Contents

Title Page

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Also by Sue Hollowell

Morning Muffins Recipe

MUFFINS AND MISDEEDS

A Belle Harbor Cozy Mystery

Book 2

Sue Hollowell

Muffins and Misdeeds

Copyright © 2020 Sue Hollowell. All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher.

Cover by

Donna L. Rogers - DLR Cover Designs

Editing by

Tiffany White at Writers Untapped

CHAPTER ONE

I switched off the TV and plunked into the lone chair in the cottage. The sparsely furnished room cried out for more pieces to appear like someone lived here. The wide-open windows beckoned the ocean air and sound to permeate the place. I wanted the full ambiance of beach living to envelope every aspect of my life. My move to Belle Harbor from Boston was intended to begin anew. And it was off to a great start.

Upon my exit from Boston, I left everything behind that I could. Certainly my ex and his new girlfriend. How was I to know that when I decided to enroll in culinary school that he would hook up with the instructor? I always wondered if that was payback in some way for my bold move to follow my dreams. He was never one to be supportive of much of anything other than what he wanted. Our life together had begun as a fairytale. He was from a prominent family, attended good schools, and was the perfect choice for my mate. I was so swept up in the fantasy I lost myself in the mix.

If not for Grandma Luna’s urging from her deathbed to follow my heart, I would not be in Belle Harbor. She was always one to set the trend. And it was usually not what everyone else was doing. Her free spirit was the guide for her life.

My parents were not fans of Grandma Luna. Their references to her hippie ways and lazy lifestyle always hurt my heart to hear. She was an amazing baker who owned a thriving bakery. Her friends and neighbors adored her, and she was generous to a fault, giving back on a regular basis to the local homeless kids. It was no doubt her hippie-looking appearance set my parents off. She changed her hair color monthly and dressed in outlandish clothes. She was by all accounts a very colorful character, not concerned about what others thought of her life. I secretly admired her moxie and wished for just a dollop of that to land on me.

I was sure my mom’s choices in life were deliberately in direct opposition to everything my grandma would have done. My prim and proper mom attended an Ivy League school to become an attorney. In the process she met my dad, who hailed from a prominent family. If she had a checklist of criteria for her ideal life, she would have ticked off every single item, right on schedule.

Circumstances deviated her from that roadmap as soon as her children arrived on the scene. Despite the overbearing parenting, neither my brother nor I fit into our parents’ mold. It wasn’t for lack of their trying to develop a mini-me. We attended private school, wore uniforms, and signed up for extracurricular activities to rub elbows with the elite.

At some point around middle school, my mom concluded that all hope was lost for her kids. She had been shipping me off every summer to visit with Uncle Jack and Uncle Frank in Belle Harbor. Just like my grandma, those two were living their best lives. The pull I felt toward that life ran deep. But it wasn’t until the culinary instructor incident that I finally chose for myself.

I was now on a path to open my own bakery just as Grandma Luna had done many years before. Surprisingly, I felt an emptiness for parts of my former life. I did miss my parents. And my loving younger brother. But establishing my own identity and life was now my priority.

Uncle Jack had welcomed me with open arms. His Checkered Past Antiques shop sat along the boardwalk on the beach. He and Uncle Frank had run that store for as long as I could remember. With Uncle Frank’s recent passing, I was glad that the timing of my move could provide Uncle Jack some family company. He graciously renovated a corner of his shop for my temporary baking kitchen.

Today, my new friend Fiona was meeting me at Unkie’s shop to look for items to decorate my cottage. I was all in for the beach theme and would take just about anything. Except for the small mirror by the door, my walls were bare. My teal-colored chair patiently waited for more furniture to fill the room. Truth be told, Uncle Jack had antiques toppling over one another. He couldn’t say no to an estate sale, always a sucker for more history. I think he liked the stories behind the pieces as much as he did selling them.

Uncle Jack and his friend Barney, the chief of police, had taken me out for a celebration to Fiona’s bar. Those two were in the matchmaking business, and in this case I was all in. Fiona was my age and full of energy. I had a feeling we were going to be great friends.

I looked around the room to size up what might be needed to make it feel more like my home. The white shiplap walls needed color. And if I wanted to entertain at all I needed more seating. I wouldn’t find that at the antique shop, but Uncle Jack had plenty of decor in his inventory to get me started.

The sounds of the sea soothed my mind. They were a far cry from the horns and sirens of the big city. And my neighbor’s little barnyard of chickens had become a gentle, lulling background noise. Last night at my arrival home on my moped, I had to dodge a couple of those wandering hens.

My phone buzzed. I stood and pulled it out of my pocket. Fiona was already at the antique shop, setting aside some things for me to look at. I hoped she had a better eye for design than I did. Left to my own devices I might not get much further than what I already had. Simple and minimal spoke to me.

I grabbed my backpack and latched the window so it remained open just a crack. My confidence had eked up a notch with my baking skills. And I was really looking forward to delivering the muffin samples today to Mocha Joe’s. I needed to get a cute name for them because calling them bran flax muffins wasn’t going to make them fly off the shelves.

Partnering with Joe was my first business collaboration. I was nervous about the reception of my product, but what was the worst that could happen? Nobody would like them and I could try something else. My ego would take a hit, but I was determined to be persistent toward my goals.

Thoughts of Joe made my stomach gurgle, and not just from the anxiety about my baking. I shook my head free of those thoughts. I couldn’t go there, not with so much on my plate with building a new life. I swung my leg over the moped seat, started the engine, and headed the short distance to Checkered Past Antiques.

CHAPTER TWO

I powered down the moped and leaned it again the front wall of Unkie’s antique shop. Thankfully, after that first malfunction it had been running like a charm, and I was getting the hang of maneuvering it. A low murmur of voices drifted through the open door. I peered through the window and saw Fiona and Uncle Jack with their heads together over one of the antique display tables. I grabbed my backpack and headed inside.

“Hey, you two,” I said on my way to the back of the store.

Uncle Jack took a step back, placed his hand over his heart, and steadied himself. “Whoa, Tilly. Give an old guy a heart attack.”

I deposited my backpack and helmet and joined them. They had placed a small card table in the middle of the aisle along with a couple of items for me to look at. “Sorry about that. You guys have been busy.” I picked up a large rusty anchor with a small rope through the hole at the top. It was large enough to go on the wall or stand on my mantle above the fireplace. “This is cool,” I said and put it back down.

Fiona looked up, her face slack, far from her normal vim and vigor. I looked at Uncle Jack. His face mirrored Fiona’s expression.

“What’s wrong?” I asked and placed my hand on Fiona’s arm.

Neither said a word. Uncle Jack picked up a round piece of sea glass and situated it next to the anchor on the small table. He shook his head.

“I’m just bummed,” Fiona started. She stepped away from the table. “I heard this morning that Kevin Packton was found dead in his pig pen.”

I turned my head toward Uncle Jack for an explanation. He seemed to know everyone in town. “Kevin owned a local distillery. Sandbar Distillery is a little ways out of town. They’ve been in existence for a long time.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “Do they know how he died?”

Fiona shook her head. “I mean, he was a rival of our family’s distillery. But there’s no way I’d ever want him dead. Their business did really well and was just about to go international.”

“And . . .” Uncle Jack started. He picked up a second piece of sparkling blue-green sea glass and set it next to the first.

The ocean-colored orbs started to roll off the table. I grabbed them both to avoid another tragedy. They would look adorable displayed on a white tray on a coffee or side table.

“Spit it out, Unkie,” I ordered.

He took a deep breath. I wondered if they had been friends. As he aged, my uncle had lost a few in his friend group. That must’ve made you wonder sometimes if your number was coming next. “Barney hinted that based on the evidence he was murdered.”

I shivered and goosebumps sprung up on my arms. Our town police chief Barney was besties with Uncle Jack. They were like brothers. I was grateful that Barney hung around so much after my Uncle Frank had passed away. Unkie jokingly complained about it, but I think he secretly appreciated the comfort of his friend.

“I can’t say too much,” Uncle Jack said. I didn’t want to push it. The details would come out soon enough. And we had a task to do. “Let’s get back to decorating that cottage of yours.”

“You don’t have to do this, Jack,” Fiona said. She held up a lighthouse lamp. “This is cute.” She set it next to the anchor. “And Tilly, you can nix any and all of our choices. You have to live there, so this should be your decision.”

I scanned the stacks of antiques for something I could use to hold the sea glass. “I like what you have so far,” I said. I seized a large bowl and put it on the table with the sea glass inside. “I like the glass. Let’s see if we can find some other shapes to go with these.”

The three of us silently picked through the hodge-podge of items. “What all are you thinking you want?” Fiona asked.

“Not sure,” I said. “I like the variety we have so far. Let’s just keep looking.” I held up a small china cup. “Unkie, what in the world is this?” The cup had a shelf inside covering half the cup and a hole in the shelf. I turned it around to get a good look at it.

Uncle Jack chuckled. “That’s a mustache cup,” he said and starting rummaging through another stack of items on a table against the wall. “Here it is.” He held up the matching pair.

I swiveled my head toward Fiona. Her eyes widened and she shrugged.

“A what?” I asked.

Unkie joined us and held out the cup. He pointed to the inside and said, “These started in the 1800s. That part inside was designed to keep the mustache away from the hot beverage.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense.” I shrugged and handed him the cup.

“Men used to wax their mustaches to keep every hair in place. And when they drank hot liquids, the wax would melt into the cup. These keep that from happening.” His face was dead serious. I waited for the punchline.

I turned toward Fiona so Unkie wouldn’t see me cracking up. “I guess I don’t need those. But now you at least have a pair you can sell.”

Uncle Jack ambled over to a shelf near the front of the store. Window shoppers could see the displayed wares. He arranged the two cups next to a stack of small plates with a similar pattern.

“Do you think you have a whole set of dishware in here with that pattern?” I asked. Uncle Jack’s organization system was nonexistent. He hypothesized that customers looking for antiques like to hunt for treasures. And that discovery was just as much an enjoyable part of the journey as the actual find. Maybe. But ever since our new business neighbor who owned the bookstore had described the place as junkie, Uncle Jack had been slowly getting more orderly. I think the comments stung, but subtly he made a few small changes almost every day.

I stepped next to Fiona to continue our search. I didn’t disagree that it was intriguing to explore the wide variety of items on the tables and shelves. I could see how people would spend hours here.

“Oh, this is fun,” Fiona said. “I think my grandma might still have one of these.” She carefully hoisted an ancient typewriter out of the stacks. “I don’t know if it will go in your cottage. Maybe I’ll get it for myself.” She held it up, rotating it in her hands. She set it on the card table and pressed several of the letter keys. “Seems to be in good shape.” She hit the carriage return and a small piece of paper jutted out from the top portion of the carriage. Fiona bent to get a closer look. “I think it’s an old letter.” She gently tugged to release the paper.

Uncle Jack joined us and looked over Fiona’s shoulder. The faded letters were difficult to make out. “May I?” Uncle Jack asked and held out his hand. He pulled the paper within inches of his nose. “It says something about if you find this, you need to investigate the property on old Highway 99 next to the old cattle farm.”

“What does that mean?” I asked. Two mysteries in one day.

“I don’t know. But I think that’s near the Sandbar Distillery.” Uncle Jack looked at Fiona. “May I keep this? I think we need to call Barney. It may be nothing but doesn’t hurt to get it checked out.”

“Of course,” she said. “Do you need the typewriter too?” She picked it up and held it out.

He shook his head. “Maybe just to be safe. I’m going to get on the horn with Barney,” he said and walked away.

“Why don’t we call it good for now?” I said. “I think this is a good start. And I need to get started on the muffin samples I’m making for Mocha Joe’s.”

Fiona’s chin was on her chest, obviously distracted by the suspicious death of Kevin.

I reached out my hand. “One step at a time. I’m sure Barney will figure it out.”

“I know. It’s just hard to take. Kevin and I had discussed some exciting collaborations. . . .” Her voice trailed off. She looked at me. “Let’s talk happier stuff. I’m having a tequila tasting at the bar tomorrow night. Say you’ll come,” she said, reaching out her hand.

I smiled. This was going to be a beautiful friendship. “Fiona, I wouldn’t miss it.”

CHAPTER THREE

“What’s on the docket for today, darlin?” Uncle Jack asked.

I had arrived early at the antique shop to begin baking the muffins I planned to take to Mocha Joe’s today. I loved my little corner kitchen that Uncle Jack had created for me in the back section of his shop. For now, it was just right. But soon I planned to increase my production, and I would need a much bigger space.

I hoped today was a happier start than yesterday after learning about Fiona’s friend being killed.

“I’m making the Morning Muffins,” I said. I had the second batch in the oven.

“Is that what smells so good?” He stepped over to the cooling rack and pointed.

I loaded the dishes into the dishwasher and put the ingredients away. “Yep. Why don’t you try one? They’re great with coffee.”

He tipped his head up toward me. “Are you trying to trick me with something healthy?”

I snatched a muffin and extended my hand. “You have to sample it before you can say you don’t like it. Besides, it’s not going to sound good if word gets out that my uncle won’t eat my muffins.”

He looked down. “Is that carrots?”

“Eat it!” I laughed. “Look, I’ll have one with you. I’ll even go first.”

He took the muffin and examined it by all angles. “I guess if I get the good stuff, it means I have to try these too.” He headed to the table and chairs and poured himself a cup of coffee.

I joined him and began peeling the paper from my muffin. I took a bite and saw him slowly studying the muffin. You would think I was asking him to eat dirt. He sipped his coffee and nibbled. He took another drink and a nibble. His gaze lifted to meet mine. I knew he would probably like it, but the suspense was killing me.

“Mmmm,” he said and smiled with crumbs in his beard. He ate the remainder of the muffin in two bites. “You got me. Those are deceptively good.”

My body tingled, my confidence growing. I might be able to make something of this business after all and do Grandma Luna proud.

“Just don’t tell people they have bran and flax in there,” Uncle Jack said in all seriousness.

“OK.” I pursed my lips to keep from laughing. “I’m going to package these up and head off to Joe’s. I’m optimistic they will do well.”

I moved to the kitchen and started boxing up the muffins. Uncle Jack followed. I held out another muffin for seconds. He quickly grabbed it and peeled the paper. I turned away so he couldn’t see my wide grin. No comment.

“After Mocha Joe’s, what’s next?” he mumbled with his mouth full.

I closed the box. “One step at a time,” I said. Putting myself out there didn’t come easily to me. Especially since I was such a new baker. I really couldn’t judge my success by Uncle Jack’s and Barney’s reactions. The real test would come with paying customers who didn’t know me.

Uncle Jack took a napkin and wiped his mouth, peering down to see what crumbs had fallen into his beard. “If I know you, Til, you’ve already got big plans.”

I fidgeted with the pile of napkins and the empty muffin tin liners. I shrugged. “I do have some ideas. But I just don’t know.”

He waited, staring me down.

I continued to straighten the already straight baking tools on the counter. “I would like expand into catering. But that’s a whole other deal on a larger scale,” I said.

“I knew it!” He turned and headed for another cup of coffee. I followed. “I’m here for you. Just let me know what you need for that expansion.”

We both turned our heads to the sound of something falling in the opposite corner of the store. We hadn’t heard anyone enter, but in some areas, the stacks of antiques were high enough to hide a small person. We looked at each other and Uncle Jack held out his arm to halt me in my place. He wove through the aisle on the opposite side of the sound.

Moving toward the noise, he said, “Just as I suspected.” He scooped up Willie and righted the tipped-over vase teetering on the edge of the shelf. “I think this little guy spends more time here than he does upstairs.”

I realized my heart was racing. I inhaled deeply to calm my nerves. “Maybe you should just give him a bed here and make it official,” I said.

“Not a bad idea,” Uncle Jack replied and sat with Willie on his lap. “Better to make him at home so he doesn’t venture next door to Florence’s Bookstore.” Willie lifted his head and closed his eyes as if he was imagining the comfy new digs.

“Yeah, she wasn’t too keen on Willie fraternizing with her fussy cat,” I said. I grabbed Willie and placed him on my lap. His purr rumbled throughout his body.

“I can smell those delicious cupcakes all the way down the sidewalk.” Barney made his way to join us in the back of the store.

“Don’t let that fool you. She’s trying to get me eating healthier with some—” Uncle Jack hesitated.

I glared at him. Don’t you dare call them poop producers.

“Muffins,” he finished. Message received.

“Right on time. I’ll get you a sample,” I said. I put Willie on the floor and headed back to the kitchen.

“What brings you here so early?” Uncle Jack asked.

I handed the muffin on a napkin to Barney, who inhaled it in two bites. “Another winner,” he mumbled. He finished chewing and swallowing and dabbed his mouth with the napkin. “I thought we could rummage through and see if there might be any more clues besides that letter you found.”

Uncle Jack shrugged. “Sure. I’m trying to remember what else might have come in from that estate sale at the same time as the typewriter.” He wandered around a few aisles until he stopped and started moving some items. Barney joined him and watched the process. “I think it was from the Jefferson sale. But it was quite a while ago.” He retrieved the card table from the back of the store and began placing items on it to make room. “It was an eclectic collection. Really just a few things but quite the variety.” He grabbed an ornate wall sconce and held it up to the light. “This beautiful Tiffany fleur-de-lis might have been from there.” He put it on the small table and continued picking through the mountain of merchandise.

This wasn’t just a store with products to sell. These were memories and stories of people’s lives. I joined the duo as they dug further looking for more clues. I picked up the sconce from the small table. I felt the pull from my former life. Our home was filled with this style of decor. My chest tightened. That life seemed so far away now. My ex-husband insisted that we decorate in a high-society lifestyle. My own home appeared more like a museum than a residence. The fussiness of it made it hard to be comfortable.

I put the piece down and shook off the memories. “I’m going to leave you two for the scavenging and head out to Mocha Joe’s.”

Uncle Jack must have observed me with the sconce because he said, “Be patient, dear.”

I smiled.

“Here’s the early bird crew.” Justin bounded into the store. Uncle Jack’s upstairs neighbor rented the apartment above the antique store and was Willie’s owner. Well, as much as anyone can own a cat. “Just checking on my little guy. I think you’re going to have to charge him rent soon if he keeps invading your space.”

Uncle Jack tipped his head back and laughed. “As a matter of fact, I am going to set him up a little place in the corner. Make it official. He’s more than welcome.”

Willie meandered into the conversation, and Justin picked him up. “That’s kind of you. Just let me know if he gets to be any trouble. Hey Tilly.” Justin waved to me in the kitchen corner. “Well, I’ll leave you all to your business. See ya ’round.” He turned and headed toward the door, then abruptly stopped and pivoted. “Oh, yeah. See you tonight at the tequila tasting, Tilly.”

I almost dropped the box of muffins, which wouldn’t have been my first disaster since arriving in Belle Harbor.

“Um, yeah,” I muttered. I was looking forward to a no-stress evening with Fiona. Now the stakes were raised with the hunky, surfer dude also in attendance. My shaking hands grabbed the muffin box, and I secured my grip. I followed Justin from the store, my mind completely distracted. The salt air hit my face and startled me back to the present. I put my game face on for my business meeting with Joe. Let’s hope he liked the muffins.

CHAPTER FOUR

I slowed my pace to gather my wits about me. Mocha Joe’s Coffee Shop was a few doors down the sidewalk from Checkered Past Antiques, and I wanted to be composed for my first official business transaction. The waves gently washed onto the shore, the sound soothing my nerves. The neon sign in the window of Mocha Joe’s blinked a welcome to customers. I peeked through the glass to see Joe and his employees serving coffee like a well-oiled machine.

I pushed the door open with my backside and entered the store. Customer chatter obscured all other sounds. I had never seen Joe’s coffee shop empty. I hoped that was a good sign for my baked goods as well. I found a two-person table along the wall and sat down with my box of muffins. Joe raised a hand with one finger in the air, signaling he would join me in just a minute.

I wiped my moist, jittery hands on my pants. I sat tall to allow maximum air into my lungs. I closed my eyes and visualized my muffins soaring off the shelf while the sound of families gearing up for a day at the beach warmed my heart.

“Sorry about that,” Joe said.

I jumped, a little embarrassed I got caught with my eyes closed. I sat on my hands for a few seconds to still my racing heart. “No worries.” I looked around. “Are you never not this busy?”

Joe followed my gaze and smiled. “I love it. I figure I’m just adding to the happiness of the community. So what do you have?” He looked at my box.

I opened the lid. The warm, comforting smell of the muffins escaped right on cue.

“Mmmm. They look great! Do I see carrots in there?” Joe looked up.

“Yes. They are on the healthier side, but don’t let that fool you. They are incredibly moist and flavorful.” I took a muffin from the box and situated it on a napkin in front of Joe.

He took a bite and his eyes widened. Oh no. What could possibly have gone wrong? I double-checked everything!

“Are they OK?” I asked.

“Tilly, they’re excellent,” he said and finished the remainder of the muffin. “They’re going to fly off the shelf. What else can you supply?”

“Really?” I asked. I wasn’t quite prepared for more. Or, let’s be honest, I wasn’t prepared at all. “Ummmm.” I paused. “I do have my grandmother’s cream-filled cupcake recipe. They’re pretty good.” I sat on my hands again, steeling my nerves. This was progressing much sooner than I had expected.

“Let’s start with both the muffins and cupcakes. How about two dozen each, Tuesdays and Thursdays? Can you do that?” he asked.

“Yes!” I practically yelled. Was this really happening? Was my bakery actually going to make money?

“What’s your price?” he asked. Of course he wanted to know what they cost—a normal business question that I was completely unprepared for.

“Well, honestly, I hadn’t gotten that far.” I nervously chuckled. My brain needed to kick into gear before I looked like a complete amateur. “How about fifteen dollars a dozen?” I bit my tongue, scared of the response. Was that way out of line? Would I even make a profit at that price point? I had such a steep learning curve for both my baking and my business. Note to self: pick Uncle Jack’s brain about running a business.

“Perfect,” he said and scanned the room full of customers. He glanced back at the counter and must have decided his employees had things well under control.

“If you have another minute, I have a question.” I was sticking my nose in other people’s business. But I wanted to help out my new friend Fiona. She was so down about Kevin’s death. I swallowed. My face warmed. I forged ahead. Looking around the room, I asked, “You’re always so busy here. I was wondering if you happened to hear anything about the” . . . I lowered my voice . . . “murder of Kevin Packton.” I was convinced my heart was going to pound right through my chest.

He shook his head and crumpled the napkin in front of him. “That’s so sad. And scary too.”

“Did you know him?” I asked.

Joe sighed. I hoped I wasn’t causing him distress with the questions. “Yeah, it’s a small town. And an even smaller number of business owners.” He scooted his chair back. I assumed our conversation was done and did the same. He continued, “I have a fondness for his family and that business. When I was young, we lived next to the Jefferson Distillery. It was no longer in operation at that point. So us kids would go play hide-and-seek behind the old stills and barrels in the field.”

I didn’t move. If he kept talking, he might just share something that could clue me in to the mysterious death. “I’m sorry,” I said.

“This is a pretty tight-knit community. When something like that happens, it feels like a part of your family is gone.” He pulled the box of muffins to his side of the table.

“Even in my short time in Belle Harbor, I’m beginning to quickly understand that. Uncle Jack found a letter in an old typewriter at his shop that had some cryptic note about clues at the old distillery. Do you know what those might be?”

He rose from his seat and grabbed the muffin box. I felt so close to a break in the clues. Would he be forthcoming?

I stood, waiting until the last second to say goodbye.

“There’s a lot of rumors about what happened at the Jefferson place during prohibition. I don’t know what might be folklore or what might be the truth. It’s all probably somewhere in between.” He bowed his head, then looked at me. “It wasn’t long after Jefferson was shut down that the Packton Distillery started.”

The door opened to another large group of customers looking for their caffeinated beverages. Joe held the box up. “Thank you for these. And I can’t wait for the cupcakes. Gotta get back to work.” He scurried to the counter to care for the crowd.

“Thank you for the business,” I said. Did he know more than he said? If this town was so small that when one neighbor sneezed, another said bless you, then someone knew something.

I scooted along the perimeter of the room to get to the door. When I hit the sidewalk, I exhaled a long breath. This bakery was happening. Uncle Jack would be so proud of me. I slowly strolled back to the antique shop, pondering my newfound information from Joe about the distillery. I wondered what that letter meant. Maybe it was a joke? Or in fact a clue to a decades-old family mystery.

I stopped at the railing along the sidewalk, leaned up against a post, and crossed my arms. The waves were in a gentle mood this morning, slowly lapping the shore. The beach filled with families and vacationers escaping from reality. Belle Harbor was becoming my escape from my former life. My new friend Fiona had invited me out, and Justin was also going to the tequila tasting. I smiled. Was Justin just another friend? Was there something else there? Too soon to tell. And too soon for any of that.

My priority was my business. And of course, my uncle. I turned and headed back to give him the good news. I had my very first order. I knew for sure I could make the muffins and cupcakes. I daydreamed about more. I had so many ideas, and I couldn’t wait to try them all.

CHAPTER FIVE

The heels of my short boots clicked on the sidewalk as I approached Fiona’s. My floral, jersey-knit swing dress brushed my knees, and my navy cardigan sweater hung over my arm. I had gone home after my day to change clothes before coming to the tequila tasting. My work clothes smelled of delicious baked goods. But I still wanted to get out of them and change my mindset for a fun evening. Truthfully, my feet were accustomed to wearing Converse and were revolting against the more formal boot wear.

When I had seen the caramel-colored boots in the shoe store window I had no idea where I had planned to wear them. I only knew that they were adorable and something I never would have chosen in the past. That meant I had to have them. I deserved to enjoy what I wanted in my life. Tonight would be another celebration at Fiona’s. After the excitement from my first sale to Mocha Joe’s, I had spent the day planning. I needed to get on a regular schedule for grocery shopping and baking. And I looked forward to experimenting with crumpet baking. I was determined to soften the bookstore owner up with my samples for her tea and book club.

The door to Fiona’s was wide open, inviting the ocean air in and letting the joyful sounds of good times out. I stepped inside and scanned the room. The booths were filled with customers enjoying their meals. The horseshoe bar in the center of the room held one empty seat. Fiona called and waved me over. I draped my sweater over the back of the chair and sat. I had only ever been to wine tasting back in Boston. My ex insisted the high-brow bottles were the only alcohol allowed in the house.

“Tilly, I saved the seat for you,” Fiona welcomed me. “And you look great!”

My face warmed. I wasn’t one for attention. “I’m so glad you invited me.” Justin was located to my right. He sat up straight and turned toward me with a comforting smile. How could I be so nervous around him but so relaxed at the same time?

“I think you’re going to enjoy this,” he said.

I looked at Fiona. She shrugged as if she hadn’t arranged for me to sit right next to Justin.

Fiona clapped her hands. Her eyes darted toward Justin and back at me. She and I would have a conversation later. A new friend? Great. A new love? Not so much right now.

“Do you know Anna?” Justin gestured to the younger woman sitting to my left.

I hadn’t even noticed her when I sat down. She stuck out her right hand to shake. “Nice to meet you,” she said.

“Anna, this is Jack’s niece who moved from Boston. She’s opened up a bakery,” Justin said.

“Well . . .” I held up my hand. “I haven’t—”

“I adore that man. I’m so glad you’re here now that Frank has passed,” she said.

“Alright, everyone,” Fiona began. “Tonight in our tequila flights we have a blanco.” She pointed to the clear liquid in a tulip-shaped glass. “Next, we have an extra-anejo.” She held up the glass containing an amber liquid. “This is my favorite. It’s aged more than three years, proving that good things take time.”

“That’s my favorite too,” Justin leaned over and whispered to me.

“Finally, the mezcal, made from the agave plant.” Fiona set the glass back on the wooden display holding all three tequilas. She set it in front of me and smiled. The bartenders filled glasses for the remainder of the tasters seated at the bar.

I sat back in my chair, my brain finally kicking in. “Wait. Are you Anna that used to work at the moped rental store?” I asked, turning to my left. I mean, how many Annas could there be in this small town?

She nodded, her long blonde ponytail, held in place by a loose tie, bobbed up and down. “I was. Until that jerk Cal fired me.” Her hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes widened.

“Yeah, I hear he didn’t make many friends,” I said.

“Well, good riddance to that place. They said I would get my job back, but I never did. I’m meant for bigger and better things, anyway,” she said, flipping her head back toward her drinks.

I reached for my first glass of tequila. The middle amber-colored one spoke to me. I picked it up and held the glass out to clink with Justin and Anna. “Cheers.” I sipped a small amount. The flavor warmed my mouth like my childhood favorite cinnamon Red Hots candy. My eyes watered, and I set the glass down.

“That one is unique because you can only age it in barrels with no more than six hundred liters,” Anna said.

I looked at her and then Justin. That was quite the random fact to know. Justin laughed. “Anna knows her stuff about tequila.”

She shook her head. “You’d think it would be enough to get hired on at a distillery. But noooo,” she said, drawing out the word. She placed her arm on the bar and rested her chin on her hand, leaning toward Justin. “And that’s so nice of you to say, Justin.” She batted her eyes in the most obvious flirtatious manner.

“How’s it going, you two?” Fiona had made her way to our side of the horseshoe. She looked back and forth between Justin and me, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’ve only tried the middle one. But I like it,” I said. “Thank you again for inviting me. This is a nice break.”

“My favorite is the mezcal,” Anna blurted loudly, holding her glass as high as her arm would stretch.

Fiona adjusted her baseball cap, refusing to acknowledge Anna’s outburst.

“Justin, what do you think of this one?” Anna held her arm in front of me, as if Justin couldn’t see what she referred to.

“I think I’m with Tilly. Extra-anejo it is for me too,” he said in a quiet voice.

“You two are adorable.” Fiona looked back and forth between Justin and me.

Anna returned the glass to the wooden display with a thud. The liquid sloshed out, discoloring the light oak. She stood, looked around, and huffed. Quickly she took her seat, bumping me in the process. Her light green hair tie escaped and her long blonde hair flowed over her shoulder. I couldn’t tell if that was a move to get Justin’s attention or an accident. She picked up the tie and placed it on the bar, leaning into my space and staring at Justin. She was getting no traction but didn’t appear to take no for an answer.

“Tilly,” Justin started. He looked down, then back at me. I gulped. His tone implied a question that I wasn’t sure I was ready for. “What do you say I show you the town? You can get to know some of the local activities.”

I studied his face, unsure if I was being asked out on a date. It would be fun to have some more adventure. Though, Uncle Jack did provide quite a bit of that. He kept encouraging me to spend time with people more my age. Why not?

“Sure. That sounds nice,” I said, still not clear whether this was a date.

“One of my favorite things to do is get out on the water,” he said. That was evidenced by his muscled, surfer physique.

I shook my head.

“Well, we can do something else if you want,” he said.

I realized he thought I had declined his request as I attempted to remove the distracting thoughts from my brain. “No. That sounds nice.”

Justin grabbed one of his glasses, sipping the remainder of the tequila. “Great. There’s a kayak rental that we can use to head out into the bay,” he said.

I heard another glass thump onto the wooden tray to my left. From my peripheral vision, I could see Anna’s three glasses from her flight were empty.

“Hey everyone,” Fiona was calling the tasters to attention. “Thank you again for coming. Our next event will be game night.” Fiona distributed small plates around the bar with fresh fruit, guacamole with tortilla chips, and cocktail meatballs.

“Yes!” Anna yelled. “I can’t wait for that. I cleaned up last time.”

What a wonderful evening. Just what I needed. Next time I planned to arrive early enough to get a seat away from Anna. She obviously had designs on Justin, and I didn’t need to be caught in a middle-school drama.

CHAPTER SIX

I spent the day in my happy place. My first batch of muffins and cupcakes were delivered to Joe’s. Would I ever not feel like an impostor? I had so far to go before I felt like I had an official business and I was a professional baker. Dropping out of culinary school didn’t help the situation. Though, getting that degree didn’t guarantee I would be a success. The true test would be what Joe’s customers thought of the pastries. There was no better feedback than those eating the goods.

I had promised Uncle Jack when I moved here from Boston that I would return to culinary school. Grandma Luna had paid my tuition and I at least owed her that much. I only hoped when I delivered my second batch to Joe that he had good news to share about how everyone raved about my work. OK, at this point, I would take them not getting sick. Or even not complaining. Raving fans would come in time.

Fiona had arranged for her manager to cover the bar tonight so we could have some girl time and work on decorating my cottage. After my baking, I had scoured the local furniture stores to find another chair and side table. Eventually, I wanted to have more than two seats to accommodate a larger group. My friend circle was growing, and I looked forward to having a get together at some point when I was more settled. The treasures from Uncle Jack’s antique shop were stashed in the corner until Fiona and I could decide how best to display them. I might be all right at baking, but I had nowhere near a decorator’s eye. I didn’t know if Fiona did either, but at least we could brainstorm ideas together.

While I waited for Fiona to arrive with our takeout, I grabbed a notebook to continue my bakery planning. I enjoyed this part of the process almost as much as whipping up the next batch of treats. Cupcakes, check. Muffins, check. Cookies? That was next up. I planned to surprise Uncle Jack at his poker party with his good ole boys. That would be a good way to trial. I was pretty sure they would eat anything, though. Cakes. Hmmm. The cake business was somewhat of an entirely different animal. Cakes offered an opportunity for a lot of creativity, but they were also a pretty big commitment. Maybe I would add those when I was busy enough to hire an assistant.

A loud knock rattled the front door, startling me from my quiet planning time. Through the window I saw two large takeout bags in Fiona’s arms from Tuscany Grove. I was enjoying time with my new friend. Her energy was contagious. And she was nice to boot.

I opened the door and reached for one of the bags. “Hey. I’m so glad you’re here,” I said and led the way into the kitchen. “Italian sounds great. What did you get?”

Fiona pulled the boxes from the bag and garlic filled the entire room. “I got us a couple of salads and spinach ravioli with pesto.”

I went to the cabinet and got a couple of plates. We started dishing up the servings. “Thank you again for your help decorating. I really have no idea what I’m doing.”

She laughed. “Happy to do it.”

We moved to the living room and dove into our meal. “I really do need to get out more and explore the town. Are all of the restaurants this good?” I took a bite of the ravioli and savored the flavors.

Fiona tucked her legs under her on the chair and leaned on the arm. “Tuscany is excellent. They have a fried ravioli that I’m thinking of adding to the bar menu.”

I choked on my mouthful and my eyes watered. I swallowed and said, “You had me at fried.” My muscles relaxed as I thought about how my new life was shaping up in a beautiful way.

Fiona smiled big. She was so easy to be around. The clucking from the neighbor’s chickens coupled with the gentle ocean waves provided soothing background ambiance.

“I’m so sorry about Kevin. I haven’t heard a word yet from Barney regarding any theories. What do you think happened?” I treaded lightly, not wanting to upset Fiona.

She kept her head tipped over her plate, moving the food around with her fork. “Honestly, I’d rather not think about it right now.” She lifted her head. “What I really want to know . . .” Her voice trailed off.

I chuckled, knowing full well what she hinted at. I cut a small piece of the ravioli and put it in my mouth. I saw from my peripheral vision she continued to stare at me. I slowly chewed and swallowed, not sure what to say. I wasn’t even sure what I felt. “For one thing, it’s not a date,” I said, still averting my gaze from Fiona. “He’s just taking me on a kayak ride as my new friend.” I peeked at her.

She untucked her legs and readjusted in the chair. “OK. You might not see it yet. I won’t push.”

“Even if I was interested, I might have to fight Anna for him. Did you see the way she fawned over him at the tasting?” I asked.

“She’s not his type. She’s too pushy. Hopefully she moves on soon. It really annoys me how she behaves trying to get his attention.” Fiona moved to the kitchen to rinse her plate. “If you aren’t having any more, I’ll box this up and put it in the fridge.”

I joined her in the kitchen. “You’d assume I would have dessert on hand at all times. I wasn’t thinking. Sorry about that.” I rinsed my plate and put them both in the dishwasher, then got two high-ball glasses from the cupboard. “I do have ingredients for the paloma cocktail, if you’d like one of those.”

Fiona laughed and returned to the living room. “Well, yes I would. Thank you.”

I gathered the tequila, lime juice, Squirt soda, and my written recipe. I had Googled it after my first visit to Fiona’s where she had served their signature cocktail. The taste was incredibly light and refreshing. “Don’t judge my bartending skills, though.” I carefully measured and poured the ingredients. I examined one of the drinks. It actually looked quite close to Fiona’s, but looks could be deceiving. I sipped it. Not bad.

I brought the drinks into the living room and handed one to Fiona. “If you ever want to learn to bartend, let me know. I’ll teach you.” We quietly sipped our beverages. “I have an idea.” She set her glass on the side table and scooted to the edge of her chair. “Hear me out.”

Oh boy. I looked at her.

“I think we should go snoop around Kevin’s farm.” She held her hand up. “I know Barney is doing his detective thing and all, but what if we could nudge the progress along? Just a bit.”

I uncrossed my legs and cradled my glass in my lap. “I don’t know.”

“We won’t interfere. Just another set of eyes. We’ll only go as far as you’re comfortable with.”

I was not comfortable at all. But was there any harm? Maybe it could help. I wanted more adventure and living in my life. This wasn’t quite what I had in mind. “I guess. But as soon as we see anything, we have to get out of there.” I was pretty sure Barney wouldn’t approve. But if we happened to find a clue to the murder, how could he complain?

CHAPTER SEVEN

Kayaks were stacked on racks lining the shore. Two paddles inserted into each, ready for the rentals. Early birds were already on the water, dotting the harbor with brightly colored watercrafts. The weather was perfect, a slight breeze brushing through the air, not too warm yet to break out into a sweat. What did one wear for a kayak ride? I needed to be comfortable and not so fancy that it appeared as if we were on a date. I chose a light yellow cotton sleeveless blouse, a tropical patterned skort, and matching pale yellow Converse shoes. Cute but sporty, if I said so myself.

My nerves were already a bit frayed. The mellow splashing of the waves lulled me into a calm. I surveyed the beach in search of Justin. I was a few minutes early, so I walked to the bench next to the rental shack to wait for him. I had never been on a kayak ride. What was I thinking? I was going to make a fool of myself. I shook my head and stood. Maybe this was a bad idea. I looked at my watch. Justin should be here by now. If I left now I could avoid the embarrassment.

Get it together, Tilly.

I plopped onto the bench. This was all part of my new journey. I needed to adjust my mindset to embrace each adventure. I sat back and crossed my legs while the sun warmed my bare skin. I surreptitiously examined my armpit to see if I had already sweated through my blouse. Not yet.

Exiting from the shrubs to my left, Justin arrived. No turning back now. “Tilly, so sorry I’m late,” he said.

I looked at my watch. “Actually, you’re right on time.” I stood and met him.

Justin’s brow beaded with moisture. He appeared as anxious as I felt. Well, at least we were in this together.

“Are you OK?” I asked. He was not normally this jittery. Not that I had a lot of firsthand knowledge. But he generally exuded the calmness of the sea.

Justin fiddled with his wallet, turning it over in his hands. “Sure. I was just rushing to get here so you didn’t have to wait long.” He stepped forward to the rental shack to secure us a kayak.

I pulled money out of my pocket and extended my hand. “Here’s my share,” I said.

He looked at me and smiled. “Nah, I got this. You can get the next one.” He paid the attendant, who pointed to a red kayak at the end of the row. Justin put his wallet away. “Weather cooperated. That’s cool,” he said.

We headed to our kayak. “Is it ever not this nice in Belle Harbor?” I asked.

“We do have an occasional storm. But overall, the weather doesn’t stray far from how it is today,” he said. We arrived at the kayak, and Justin removed the paddles and set them to the side. He pushed it about one-third of the way into the water. “Why don’t you get in first? Then I’ll shove us off and jump in.”

I stepped into the kayak with my left leg, facing the shore. He steadied it and my right leg followed. I sat back, waiting for Justin to enter.

He moved to the bow and grabbed the handle. After lifting one end he moved it a bit further into the water. Any more and he would get wet before he could get in. He looked up at me, his sideburns dripping. Hopefully a relaxing trip on the water would allow him to cool off. He picked up the kayak and shoved off to begin our float without jumping in. With outstretched arms, his eyes widened. Unable to stop the momentum of the kayak, he let it go. I drifted farther from the shore. By myself. With no paddles.

“Sorry. Oh, what a dunce.” He knocked himself in the head with his fist. “I forget the paddles at the last minute.” He looked around.

I floated further from the shore, the waves drawing me out into the harbor.

Justin tried to get another kayak removed from the rope that held the rentals together. He pulled and tugged, unable to free it. He looked around again and scrambled to a pedalboat, dragging it to the water. He looked up. “Hang on. I’ll be there in a minute.” Just as he jumped into the boat to shove off, he said, “Arghhh,” and got out. He raced to gather the two kayak paddles and reentered the pedal boat. Now on the water, he peddled like a madman, pumping his legs as fast as they would go.

I put my hands to the sides of my mouth and hollered, “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

He gripped each side of the pedal boat and continued his furious peddling, now close enough to say, “Tilly, I can’t believe I did that. I don’t know where my head was at. Hopefully you don’t think I’m a total birdbrain and you’ll give me another chance.”

He maneuvered the pedal boat to the side of the kayak and handed me a paddle. “Why don’t you take one just in case?”

I tucked the paddle to the side of my seat.

“Grab a hold of this one and I’ll tow you in.” Justin’s T-shirt was now completely pitted out. That poor guy.

I grabbed the end of the second paddle. “Justin?”

He tipped his head up, frowning.

“It’s really OK. Think of the story we’ll have to tell.”

He sat back and took a deep breath. “Thank you for being such a good sport.” He took the other end of the paddle I held, turned, and began peddling us back to shore.

I certainly got a kayak ride. Just not exactly as planned. Justin let go of the paddle just as his boat hit the sand. He jumped out, quickly turned, and grabbed the handle of the kayak to pull it onto shore. We reversed the previous steps, and I exited the kayak. He pulled the kayak all the way onto shore and bent over, hands on his knees.

“Are you OK?” I asked, placing my hand on his clammy back. He had quite the workout to rescue me.

“I’m just so embarrassed at my blunder.” He straightened up.

“Forget it. I did get my kayak ride, after all,” I said.

“Nope, I owe you a real one. With paddles next time.” He walked over to the pedal boat to drag it fully onto the shore. He hunched over the side and pulled out a pair of shoes. Converse, dark gray. “These are just like yours. Except they stink to high heaven. I must have been so distracted that I didn’t see them when I got in. Or smell them.”

Even ten feet away, the odor of the shoes assaulted my nose. I put my hand over it and pointed to the rental shack. “Maybe they have a lost and found.”

Justin held the shoes at arm’s length, and I followed him from a distance. He chatted with the attendant and dropped the shoes to the side of the shack. He turned and pulled at the front of his T-shirt, which was plastered to his skin, to cool off.

“Even though it didn’t go as planned, I had fun. And we’ll give it another try,” I said. “I should be going. I’m making some treats for Uncle Jack’s poker game tonight.”

“It’s a da—” he started. “It’s a deal.” His face reddened. He turned, waved, and disappeared down the same pathway he had arrived.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The house on the hill. That’s how I had known Uncle Frank and Jack’s home from all of my summer visits when I was younger. The view made you feel like you were on top of the world. I would sit on the deck, overlooking the expanse of the ocean, and daydream about possibilities for my life. Some of my fondest memories were conversations with my uncles encouraging me to follow my dreams. I even had visions of living in one of the cottages that were lower down the hill. Never in my wildest imagination did I think it would become a reality.

I entered the front door with my two boxes of surprise treats. I had to sneak around so that Uncle Jack hadn’t gotten a preview of what I made. It would either be a resounding success or a total flop. I stopped in the middle of the kitchen, gazing ahead at the wall of windows. The white foam of the waves pounded the shore. The horizon turned a shade of light orange as the sun descended into the far reaches of the ocean.

I called out, “Uncle Jack.” I set my boxes on the kitchen counter and continued on to the deck. I stood there grasping the railing, absorbing the moment. This was real. This was my life now.

“Hey sweetheart,” Uncle Jack said and joined me at the railing.

I looked up at his sun-weathered face. “Thank you,” I said. My new life was becoming everything I had dreamed of. With Uncle Jack’s encouragement, my bakery was taking off. I owed him a debt of gratitude for always believing in me.

He took my hand in his and patted it. “It’s all you, girl. I’m just along for the ride.” He returned through the sliding glass doors to the dining room, which was actually an extension of the kitchen. The poker table held stacks of cards and multi-colored chips. Uncle Jack entered the kitchen, heading for my secret box.

“Don’t you dare,” I said and rushed inside. I reached in front of him and pushed the boxes further back on the counter. “Wait until everyone gets here.”

The back of his hand brushed my cheek. “You got some sun today,” he said.

It was what he didn’t say that I knew he hinted at. I laughed and led him from the kitchen and the temptation. “Yes, Justin and I went on a kayak ride. At least we tried to.” I moved to the living area and sat in an overstuffed chair angled toward the large window. “You’ll have to ask him about it.”

“Well, that’s mysterious,” he said and joined me in the matching chair.

“More like hilarious. At least by the time you talk to him, I hope he thinks of it that way,” I said.

I stood and eased over to the wall of photos. Family memories covered the entire surface. The one that caught my eye was of Uncle Jack and Frank at the opening of Checkered Past Antiques. It must have been taken at least forty years prior.

“Someday, the legacy could be yours. No pressure, but think about it,” Uncle Jack said. “Frank and I talked about it. We would love nothing more than to pass this on to you.”

I turned and smiled. A loud pounding on the front door startled us from the walk down memory lane.

“Those turds. Never ones for a subtle entrance.” Uncle Jack retraced his steps through the kitchen to let in the rowdy crowd. I was hot on his heels so he didn’t take the opportunity to sneak a peek. He opened the door and Barney, Micky, and Gary entered, fully loaded with beer, chips, and pepperoni sticks.

“Tilly, what a pleasure. Didn’t expect to see you,” Barney said. The group filed in and deposited their goods on the kitchen counter. Barney gave me a peck on the cheek.

“I brought some sweets. Though looking at the haul you guys brought, I should have offered fruits or vegetables,” I said.

The guys made their way to the poker table and each took a seat. “Let’s get this party started,” Gary said. “Tilly, you joining us?”

I stood at the edge of the table and laughed. “No, I don’t want to intrude. Plus, I don’t really know how to play.”

They were all seated now, ready to kick off. Uncle Jack already had a deck of cards in his hand, ready to deal. “You couldn’t be any worse than Barney. Maybe his excuse is that he’s been distracted lately. And not from the murder investigation.” Unkie grinned widely and stared at his friend.

“How is Florence?” Micky asked.

They each scooped up the cards Uncle Jack dealt.

“She’s fine. And you all could do with the culture she’s just trying to bring to this town.” Barney firmly pushed a stack of chips to the center of the table. “Are we going to chitchat or get down to business?” The other three smirked and took the hint. Subject closed.

I returned to the deck and closed the screen door. I hoped when I was that age I had a strong friend group like Unkie did. Despite the jousting, they were true blue to each other.

“Speaking of business,” Gary started. The sound of cards and chips hitting the table continued.

“It’s a head scratcher,” Barney said. Talk had turned to his murder investigation. My ears perked up, and I was hopeful I would hear some news to share with Fiona and could avoid our snooping outing.

“All I know is now that he’s gone, that tainted water has stopped flowing onto my property,” Gary said.

The poker sounds halted. “What do you mean?” Barney asked.

“Kevin’s irrigation system was contaminating my well from the pig poop,” Gary said. “We finally figure out why we’d all been sick.”

“Gary, play and talk at the same time, or stop talking,” Micky said.

That promptly resumed the game.

“I never knew that,” Barney said.

Maybe my cookies could ease some tension. I headed to the kitchen for one of my boxes.

“Everyone thought Kevin was such a great guy. I think he had a lot of people fooled,” Micky interjected.

Poker night turned out to be much more enlightening than I ever imagined. I opened a box and placed the cookies on a large serving platter. I was pretty sure these guys would eat anything, but I was proud of my experiment with the poker-themed cookies.

“This is the first I’m hearing that you guys felt that way,” Barney said. The hand must have ended because someone had scooted a pile of chips across the table.

“Yeah, he wanted everyone to think he was this philanthropic businessman. But behind closed doors, he royally screwed you,” Micky said.

“Micky!” Uncle Jack admonished.

“Oh, sorry. But with every deal we did, he kept chiseling me down to almost nothing for my profit margin. I had to sever the business relationship before he bankrupted me,” Micky said.

Well, that put a damper on the game.

I entered the dining room and presented my cookie tray to the guys. “All right. I’m unveiling my surprise.” They all stood. I started laughing so hard the cookies almost slipped off the tray. I set it in the middle of the poker game. “You can sit,” I said.

“Tilly, you’ve outdone yourself!” Barney said. He grabbed a cookie in the shape of a club, frosted black, and took a huge bite. “Mmmm,” he murmured and smiled, his lips tinged dark from the frosting.

“Save some for us,” Unkie said.

They all reached for a cookie. This was my joy. Baking treats that made people happy. Researching themed sugar cookies provided me with endless ideas for catering events. It would definitely provide me a creative outlet. I had designed four different patterns: rectangle cards decorated as aces; shapes of each of the four suits: club, spade, heart, and diamond; poker chips; and dice.

“I brought two boxes. Eat up,” I said.

Micky patted his belly. “Stand back. This thing is going to be expanding quickly at this rate.”

“Can I leave you four unsupervised?” I asked and refilled the plate of cookies. “I’ve got to get up early for my delivery to Joe’s.”

“I doubt it,” Uncle Jack said. He rose and kissed my cheek. “Thank you, Tilly. You’re spoiling us.”

I held his hand for a second. My heart was full.

CHAPTER NINE

Today was my second official delivery to Mocha Joe’s Coffee Shop. I arrived early to bake up the muffins and cupcakes that we had agreed on. My fledgling bakery was off the ground. Joe shared feedback with me that his customers had raved about them. That warmed my heart. My goal now was to ensure consistency as I worked to improve my processes. As the number of orders increased I needed to be efficient in my production.

I sat at the coffee corner in the quiet of the antique store, enjoying my coffee and planning my day. Uncle Jack’s birthday was coming up, and I intended to do everything I could to make it special for the man that deserved it.

The early mornings on the beach were magical. With the sun not quite bathing the beach in warmth yet and the tide out, there were few people. It felt like starting every day anew with so many possibilities. When the crowds eventually arrived, the party atmosphere ensued. At all times there was something for everyone. Feeling the freedom and choice I had with my life gave me a peace I hadn’t experienced in a long time, if ever. The move to Belle Harbor was a leap of faith. And it hadn’t disappointed one bit.

“Ah, I could smell the coffee and sweets from the sidewalk.” Uncle Jack arrived at the shop. “If that doesn’t increase the traffic for the antique business, I don’t know what would.”

I raised from my chair, grabbed the carafe, and poured him a steaming cup. “You guys must have had a late night, Unkie,” I said. I retrieved a muffin and a cupcake I had set aside from Joe’s order. “This should perk you up.” I handed him the plate. I refilled my cup and joined him.

He munched a huge bite of the cupcake and closed his eyes. “That hits the spot. Yeah, it got pretty competitive after you left.”

“How long have you been hosting your poker game?” I asked.

He jammed the remaining cupcake into his mouth and followed it with a swig of coffee. “It’s been quite a few years.”

“Those were some stories Gary and Micky had about Kevin,” I said. “The more I hear, the more it sounds like people didn’t really like him.”

“Yeah, they’ve been grousing about him off and on over the years. I usually don’t pay much mind to it. Just yapping during poker time,” he said. He picked up the muffin and examined it from all sides. “I don’t know how you do it. Making something healthy taste so good.” He dove into the muffin and chased it with more coffee.

“Unkie?” I started. I didn’t want to create a rift with his friends. But the thoughts about those two niggled my brain all night. Someone killed Kevin. And sometimes the killer hid in plain sight. Could it be one of those two who were friends with the chief of police? Would they have teamed up to take out someone who had threatened the safety of their family and business?

Uncle Jack looked at me.

“I don’t know how to say this,” I said.

His cheeks drooped and he sat still.

“Do you think Gary or Micky had anything to do with Kevin’s death?” There. I said it. I just couldn’t shake the thought that there was more than met the eye.

He vigorously shook his head. “No way.”

“No way, what?” Barney arrived and made his way back to the coffee corner.

Uncle Jack rose and got Barney a cup of coffee. They both sat. “You’ve known Mick and Gary as long as I have. Now, I know they had a beef with Kevin. But killers?” He looked at Barney.

Barney’s head bowed as he stared at his cup. “They regularly spouted off about Kevin, but I just can’t see it.”

“I’m just asking the questions,” I said. “I’m not accusing them of anything.”

“Yeah,” Barney said and took a drink. “It pains me, but I do have to look into every possibility. I really can’t say much more right now.”

Uncle Jack swung his head toward me, eyes wide. This development would devastate him if one of his friends was a murderer. We needed to let Barney do his job and see this to its natural conclusion.

I shivered, more to shake the sinking feeling than from any chill in the air.

“I think we need to focus on a happier topic,” I said. I pointed at Uncle Jack. “I’m planning a birthday bash for this guy. Unkie, do you have any special requests?”

He shook his head. “I love having you here, Tilly. Don’t go crazy. You’ve got enough to do with your business.”

“I’ve got some ideas I think you’ll love. And you deserve to be spoiled.”

“I agree, Tilly. And I’ll help however I can,” Barney said.

A crash from the opposite side of the room startled us all out of our seats. We stood and, in unison, proceeded to investigate. In a pile of antiques on a table against the wall, two little eyes peeked out.

“I should have known,” Uncle Jack said. “Come here, you little squirt.” Unkie reached in to extract Willie without toppling everything on the table. He pulled him out and cradled him, a loud purr following. “He burrowed himself right in between this stash of bottles.”

I retrieved one of the dusty and weathered bottles. “It says Jefferson Distillery.” I looked at Uncle Jack. “Do you remember if these came in at the same time as the typewriter from that estate sale?”

“That would make sense. But I don’t exactly remember. I’d have the paperwork somewhere,” he said, continuing to generate a loud purr from the cat.

I picked up another bottle and wiped the label to clearly confirm it was from the Jefferson Distillery. I looked at Barney. “Forgive my amateur sleuthing, but do you think these might have something to do with Kevin’s murder?” I quickly put the bottles back on the table and wiped my hands on my shorts, more to rid myself of any connection to that horrid thought than to clear them of the dust.

“I’m not ruling anything out right now. Jack, if you could get me a box, I should probably take these in for potential evidence,” Barney said.

I stepped away from the table. “I’ll go get a box,” I said and rubbed my arms to smooth over the goosebumps. “Here you go.” I put the box on the floor next to the table.

“Willie, as much of a stinker as you can be, you might have just helped the case along,” Barney said. He retrieved all of the bottles he could find and filled the box. “Jack, if you could do me a favor and look for more. Let me know what you find.”

“Sure thing. You heading out so soon?” Uncle Jack asked and put Willie on the floor to scoot away to his hiding spot.

“Yep. Going next door to pick up my book for the book club,” Barney said, daring Uncle Jack to tease him.

Right on cue. “What a nerd. You crack me up. I hope you enjoy,” Uncle Jack said.

Barney picked up the box of bottles. “Florence thought I might enjoy Crime and Punishment. That’s our first book.” He turned and left the shop.

“I just like to tease him about behaving like a love-struck teenager. But I am happy for him,” Uncle Jack said.

I wondered if he was envious of the relationship, wishing he had a love in his life. If so, I might just have to accept the mission to make it happen.

CHAPTER TEN

Fiona and I rolled to a quiet stop in her VW bug. My pulse pounded in my ears. I considered whether I should have dressed in all black for our excursion. My amateur sleuthing skills might just get me in trouble. Thankfully I had packed flashlights, as the dark of the country road hid our arrival. She parked her car on a wide part of the road that led to the driveway of the farm. Fiona had donned a black beanie and dressed dark from head to toe, including shoes. This didn’t appear to be her first time sneaking around. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know about her previous experience.

She pointed. “I think we can go down the driveway for a bit. We have to stay on the side where there’s dirt so we don’t crunch the gravel. We might have to cut through the trees about halfway down.”

How in the world did she know those details about the lay of the land? I looked at her. “Maybe we should rethink this. It doesn’t feel right to sneak around on someone’s property.” The night air had cooled significantly, but I was still sweating bullets. I wanted to help my friend out, but was this the right way to do it?

“It’ll be fine. If it looks like anyone sees us, I know a shortcut to get us back to the car.” Fiona looked me up and down. “I should have said something before. But your shoes are probably going to get wrecked.”

The problem was I didn’t have sneaking-onto-a-farm-at-night shoes. My collection consisted of ten different-colored pairs of Converse and my booties for fancier events. I shrugged. “I guess I’m sacrificing them for the cause.”

We exited the car and gently clicked the doors closed. Fiona started first and waved me along. The sounds of silence were filled with crickets and the occasional frog in the distance. We continued down the driveway until we got to the cutoff leading to the farm. Once we had the cover of some trees I released a breath I didn’t realize I had held.

I whispered, “Fiona.”

She stopped.

“Can we make a plan when we get there?” I wanted the exit strategy clearly laid out.

“Oh, yeah. Good idea. When we come to the clearing there will be a big red barn. On the other side of that is the pig pen where Kevin was found. If we stay to the right and sidle up to the barn, nobody from the house will be able to see us.” She stared at me.

I nodded. “OK.”

“And if lights come on or we hear noise, we’ll hide behind the barn.” She turned and we worked our way along the path to the clearing. She looked at me again, probably trying to assess my willpower to continue. “You OK?” she asked.

I closed my eyes. We had come this far, might as well go all in. “Yes,” I whispered.

The corner of the barn had a spotlight. The space between the edge of the trees and the barn was the only area exposed to the house. We scurried over and stopped to regroup. Fiona grabbed my hand and giggled.

I held a finger up to my mouth to shush her. We tiptoed along the path next to the barn to reach the pig pen. We stopped and scanned the area. So far, so good. Three pigs snored hard in their pen. I was sure we would laugh later about the similarity to the fairytale. For now, we had to remain focused. I only hoped pigs were heavy sleepers. I couldn’t imagine what they would do if we startled them awake. All we needed were squealing pigs.

We stepped to the fence housing the pigs and walked the perimeter. Fiona gestured that she was going inside. I grabbed her arm and shook my head. “Let’s see what we can find outside first.”

“I need to see it from Kevin’s perspective,” she said.

My chin dropped to my chest. Up ’til now, I was OK. She was pushing our luck. For sure those pigs would wake up, and who knew? Would they charge us in their excitement? I would hate for my new life in Belle Harbor to end with being rammed by swine. I gazed back from the location where we had arrived to make sure I had a clear path for an escape. I gulped.

Fiona lifted the latch on the gate and stepped inside. “You can wait here if you want.” She moved to the center of the pen and began rotating to view all angles. I joined her. In one corner was the feed trough. Next to it was a watering trough. The pigs were undisturbed in the little hut laying on some hay. We might just get lucky. Fiona pointed to a stick in a corner. It looked like a handle of a prod that had broken. I looked at her. Was that the murder weapon? Kevin had been hit over the head. Would it have broken the tool?

We continued rotating, taking in every detail of the scene. Nothing else seemed out of place to me. The killer must have sneaked up on Kevin. Or they knew him. That didn’t narrow down the list of suspects one bit. I took a step toward the gate, more than ready to leave. Fiona grabbed my arm and gestured to the side of the pen. I squinted in the direction she pointed. I shook my head, not connecting with her message.

“Footprints that don’t look like work boots,” she whispered.

Ah, OK. “Can we get out of here now?” Clues or not, I was at the end of my tolerance for investigating.

“Never mind. Those look like your shoes.” Fiona led us to the gate—and freedom.

I wasn’t sure our adventure netted any new clues. But it sure convinced me I would never make a good criminal. My stomach would take hours to unknot. We quickly left the sleeping pigs and retraced our steps back to the car. We jogged the last leg of our trip and reached the car holding our sides and giggling.

“Fiona, never again. That was stressful,” I said. “And I think I’m going to have to burn these smelly clothes and shoes.”

She opened the door of the bug and threw me a towel to wipe off. She was prepared. I sat in the passenger seat, removed my shoes, and wrapped them in the towel.

“Tilly, Barney probably already knows this. But that handle might have been part of the murder weapon.”

“That’s what I thought. But who would come out here and do that?” I asked.

We finished cleaning up and sped away into the night, the windows down to air out the car. The next time I saw Barney I would have to see if he would share progress and find a way to steer the conversation to murder weapon. If it was someone that Kevin knew, who would be angry enough at him to kill him? Was it an argument that went too far? And what was the motive?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“OK, Willie. If you’re going to be a constant fixture here, we’ve got to properly set you up.” Uncle Jack had prepared a bed for Willie behind the checkout counter, but that wasn’t enough. Clearly, that cat treated the antique shop as an extension of his home from the apartment upstairs that he shared with Justin.

A small display table nested between a couple of shelves would be perfect. I carefully transferred the antiques to a new location and wheeled the table to the kitchen. I retrieved Willie’s bed and placed it on the table, situating the whole thing next to the wall. Willie would have a front row seat to my workspace.

“All right, you spoiled little one, here you go,” I said and picked him up. He lifted his head and began purring. “You stay here, though. Can’t have cat fur showing up in my pastries. Not good for business.”

“What’s not good for business?” Unkie’s voice boomed from the open door. He held two Mocha Joe’s coffee cups and offered one to me.

“Thank you.” I nodded my head toward Willie’s new perch. “That one.” I took a sip of the coffee and closed my eyes. I needed about ten of these to perk me up after last night’s excursion with Fiona. “He’s been pestering me ever since I whipped up this cream cheese frosting.”

Uncle Jack stared at me.

“What?” I took another sip of coffee. I just knew he could see bags protruding from under my eyes, giving away my secret.

“Did you have a late night?” he asked and smiled.

“It’s not what you think. It was just Fiona and me hanging out.”

I set the coffee to the side and picked up my bowl of frosting. Willie let out a loud yowl. I got a small mixing bowl and placed a teaspoon of frosting in it and tucked it into the corner of Willie’s bed. He now had a new bowl. He jammed his face in, practically wearing the bowl like a hat. I resumed icing the three-layer chocolate cake.

“Joe said your muffins and cupcakes are flying off the shelf. Way to go hon,” Unkie said.

“Did you go down there to buy my cupcakes?” I looked up at him. “You know I’ll make them for you whenever you want.”

He scooped another teaspoon of icing for Willie to shush the mewing cat. Justin would wonder why his cat was up all night from the sugar high. “Well, I did have one. But I met Micky for coffee. He’s pretty upset about Kevin.”

I looked up, my spatula mid-swipe on the cake.

“Don’t worry. Micky’s a good guy. I don’t think he had anything to do with Kevin’s death.” Uncle Jack got a new spoon and sneaked a taste of the frosting. “Mmmm.”

“You don’t think?” I looked down, and my spatula had stabbed the cake. I withdrew it and scooped some frosting to repair the break.

“Tilly, let Barney do his job. And you keep making these incredible creations.”

I smiled. “This is for you. I made two samples of cake for you to choose for your birthday party.”

He looked at the end of the counter as I pointed to a covered plate.

“I made carrot cake, and this is a classic chocolate that will be covered in sprinkles.”

He laughed. “Why do you keep trying to sneak vegetables into the sweets? That’s just not right.” He reached in for another sample of the frosting.

I playfully slapped his hand. “No double-dipping. And you can’t even taste them. They add a depth of flavor and moisture too.”

“Well, not because of the vegetables, but you had me at sprinkles with this one. That sounds more like me,” he said.

“Sprinkles it is. And lots of them,” I said.

Unkie and I turned our heads at the sound of footsteps. Barney approached us with his police hat tucked under his arm. “Jack, do you ever work anymore now that you have a bakery in the corner of your store?”

“You old fart. I’ll have you know this bakery has more than doubled my business. Might have to give Tilly a cut of the profits,” Uncle Jack said. “Enough about me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you visit as much as you have until that bookstore opened next door.”

I continued frosting the cake as Willie beckoned for more samples and Unkie and Barney traded jabs.

“How was the book club?” Uncle Jack inquired.

Barney’s typically stoic demeanor immediately transformed into flustered, fidgeting hands. “Excellent. A nice change of pace from the good ole boys club. Florence knows how to do it right,” he said. “I’d invite you, but I think you’d just goof off the whole time.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Say, I had coffee with Mick this morning. He’s pretty nervous about being considered a suspect. What gives?” Uncle Jack asked.

“I know. But it can’t be helped. He certainly had a motive. That bad business deal with Kevin last year sent him reeling from the financial losses. He lost his house. They had to move in with his mom.”

“But that don’t make a killer.” Uncle Jack held a hand up. “I know. You’ve told me a thousand times. People stay on the suspect list until you have a compelling reason to remove them.”

“I wish I was farther along so I could ease some people’s minds.” Barney looked around the store and leaned in. “I think the killer surprised Kevin when he was feeding his pigs. But I think he knew who it was. I can’t say more than that.” Barney stepped back.

Goosebumps raised on my entire body. Fiona and I were literally at the nexus of the scene of the crime last night. It creeped me out to envision Kevin’s last minutes and what might have happened. I rotated the cake on the little round table and applied the finishing touches. I scooted the carrot cake to the center of the counter and lifted the cover, then retrieved two plates and forks.

“Could I trust you two to sample the cakes and decide which will be the winner for the birthday bash?” I asked.

Barney’s eyes lit up. “All day long,” he said, grabbing a knife to begin slicing and serving. “Carrot is my favorite.”

“That figures,” Unkie said and elbowed Barney. “I already chose the chocolate with sprinkles. You can keep the one with veggies.”

Resuming his yowl, Willie chimed in for more frosting. I rolled my eyes. What a hoot these three were.

“You heading out?” Uncle Jack asked with his mouth full of carrot cake.

Don’t like vegetables in desserts? I snickered. Put enough sugar in anything, and Unkie would eat it. “I thought I’d go back and reserve a kayak for Justin and me since our first outing was kind of a disaster.”

“You never did tell me what happened,” Uncle Jack said and inhaled the rest of the carrot cake slice.

“That’s not for me to tell.” I untied my apron and put it on the hook. I grabbed my backpack and helmet. “Don’t eat that whole thing, you’ll ruin your dinner. I don’t want to come back here and find you both splayed on the floor in a sugar coma.” I shook my head. Just like a couple of teenage boys.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I didn’t like to lie to Unkie. Truthfully, I was headed to the kayak rental, but not only to book one for another outing with Justin. I was really bothered by those shoes he found in the paddle boat. There was something about them being there that day that just didn’t sit right. I puttered out to the street on my moped, the sun warming my face. I zoomed past the rows of cottages lining the street, the little places similar to mine.

The kayak rental shop was at the far end of the harbor, near the lighthouse. I slowed down and turned into the entrance, pulling into a parking spot. I removed my helmet and shook out my hair. I was due for another tint, but not sure what color to go with this time. I loved the blue, but it was fading into my natural brown. I felt bold enough to go for a brighter shade. Coloring my hair like Grandma Luna had done for herself somehow made me feel closer to her.

I approached the kayak rental shack, glad to see it was the same guy working as it was the other day Justin and I came. I gulped and stopped. Maybe this was a dumb idea. What if he wouldn’t tell me? What if he got mad at me? I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, steeling my nerves. OK, let’s do this. I pasted a smile on my face and said, “Hello.”

The guy looked up from his phone and hopped off the stool. “Hey.” He squinted at me. “Weren’t you here the other day? I’d remember that hair anywhere.”

I inhaled, and upon my exhale, said, “I have a question.”

He furrowed his brows. “OK.”

“Can you tell me who rented the paddle boat before we used it the other day?” I unclenched my hands and wiggled my fingers.

He stepped back and shook his head, pulling the registration book away from me. “Nah, can’t do that.”

I shrugged. “Well, OK. How about—”

“But if you wanted to reserve a kayak, you would need to write your name in the registration book.” He stared at me.

Message received. “Yes, I want to reserve a kayak for this weekend.” He was really going to let me look at the book.

“What time?” He turned the book to face me and handed me a pen.

“Well, uh,” I started and tapped the pen on my chin. I hadn’t cleared this with Justin, but there was no stopping me now. “I think ten should work.” My hand jostled the last of my entry. I looked up. “Do I owe you anything today?” I hoped he hadn’t seen my nervous gesture.

He stared, probably thinking I was a loon, wondering if I could be trusted with a kayak rental. “Nope, you’re good. See you Saturday.”

I turned and sped away, at the last minute yelling over my shoulder, “Thank you.”

My heart raced. I did it. This detective stuff wasn’t for the faint of heart. I returned to my moped and headed to my next errand. I was beside myself with excitement about planning Unkie’s birthday party. The wharf was located at the opposite end of town from the kayak rental. This moped was a genius purchase idea from Uncle Jack. Getting around this way was fun and simple. Thankfully, the machine hadn’t pooped out after the initial problems, and my confidence riding it increased each time. I sat tall, working my way to the wharf parking lot. On my right side a woman was handing out cotton candy samples, and she handed me one as I drove by. I stopped the moped and took a bite of the sweet puff. Hmmm, that gave me some ideas for pastry flavors. That’s something I could work with.

I headed down the wharf to the cruise rental office. The sun sparkled on the rotating Ferris wheel, laughter coming from the riders. Happy sounds. I shaded my eyes. About halfway down the pier, I spotted a person that looked like Micky seated with another man at an outdoor cafe table. I slowed my pace to study him. The man had a baseball cap tipped to the side of his head, partially obscuring his face. I couldn’t miss that beard. And his tie-dyed shirt was awfully similar to the one he wore at poker the other day. I was sure that was him. He seemed to be trying to hide from observation.

I quickly entered the cruise ship office, shaking my head. What was up with that?

“I see you met Cristie,” the woman said and pointed to my hand that held the cotton candy.

I smiled. “That made my day.”

“She’s opening a new shop and giving out samples,” the woman said. She wore a navy, collared, short-sleeved shirt with an anchor on the arm and white shorts.

“It’s really good. I’d like to see about a rental for my uncle’s birthday party.”

“Great,” she said. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Well, I’m new in town. There will be about ten of us. What do you suggest?”

The woman got a brochure and placed it on the counter. “We actually have a super fun cruise for smaller groups on our vintage Thomas International school bus. It’s been refurbished and made to float.”

I looked at the brochure. “That couldn’t be more perfect! My uncle is Jack Steele, owner of Checkered Past Antiques. I’m Tilly.” I reached my non-sticky hand across the counter to shake.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Ruthie,” the woman said, stepping to my side of the counter. “If you want, we can take a quick look,” she offered.

I looked at the door, contemplating. “I think it will be fine. Do I need to put down a deposit?” I continued looking at the door, unable to get the scene with Micky out of my head.

“Yes. Ten percent will hold it,” she said. “We also have packages of party supplies that you can add. Would you like to see those?” She reached for a notebook on the end of the counter.

“Umm.” Where had my manners gone? “I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind. I’m going to supply everything. Thank you, though.” I paid the deposit and wandered from the office, mindlessly finishing my cotton candy sample. I retraced my steps to the moped and set my backpack on the ground, pulling out my phone. She would know what to do about Micky.

I dialed Fiona’s number. Ugh. Voicemail. She was a busy business owner, so what did I expect? “Fiona, it’s Tilly. I’m not sure how to say this.” I looked up to see if anyone else was nearby. “I just saw Uncle Jack’s friend Micky at the wharf. He was with another guy, and I don’t know. It just seemed sketchy. I’m sure it’s nothing. But call me back when you get this.” I paused before the message cut me off. “Can’t wait for game night tomorrow. If I don’t talk to you before, I’ll see you then.”

I hung up and sat on my moped, watching the growing crowd head toward the Ferris wheel. I looked at the top of it. I bet you could see the whole town from there.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Uncle Jack had finally relented and let me help him organize some of the antiques into more presentable displays. After the incident with the broken vase he had knocked onto the floor, he admitted he could use some help. We had plowed through about half of the store today, and I had to say, it looked incredible. A few regular customers had loaded up on purchases, more than ever before. After they left the shop, Unkie winked at me, approval for a job well done. My specialty was order.

I was glad to be in a routine of making the cupcakes and muffins for Mocha Joe’s Coffee Shop, but that was not going to sustain me in business. I needed much bigger orders to make this a viable operation. I’d spotted a party store on my way to the wharf yesterday that I would visit and see if I could forge a partnership. That was bound to be an opportunity to provide goodies for all kinds of celebrations.

I decided on casual clothes for the game night at Fiona’s. A graphic print tee with a whimsical lobster, shorts, and my standard Converse shoes, today in neon green. I didn’t want any fancier clothes to give Justin an inkling about my feelings, whatever they were.

Every time I entered Fiona’s, the energy enveloped me. Tonight was no different. The place was packed. Servers buzzed around for the customers. The bar was full. I hoped I wasn’t too late to join in the games.

“Tilly, right on time,” Fiona yelled and gestured for me to get closer in toward the bar. “OK, everyone. We’re just about to get started. You know the drill. Two teams.” She returned to making several drinks, filling the glasses quickly and handing them to a server.

I looked around to see what I was supposed to be doing. Justin started my direction when Anna grabbed his arm and pulled him into the small group forming on the other side of the bar.

“No you don’t,” Anna said. “You’re with me.” She glared at me over her shoulder as if to say she won that round. She whipped her head around, her long blonde ponytail smacking Justin in the face.

We were teams of five each. I had no idea how this worked; I just didn’t want to make a fool of myself. Fiona reiterated the rules and read the first question. “Henry the eighth introduced which tax in England in 1535?”

“Beard,” Anna screamed and raised her hands in victory formation. She turned and gripped Justin in an awkward hug. He pushed her away. How would anyone know that? I felt defeated. There was no way I could help my team.

Fiona continued with nine more questions. “OK, team one”—she glanced down at her paper and pointed toward Justin and Anna—“has eight. Team two has two.” She pointed in my direction. “Break time for ten minutes, then we finish up.” Anna attempted another hug with Justin, who straight-armed her this time.

Fiona called me into the corner for a little quiet. “Sorry I didn’t call back. What are you thinking about Micky? Who was the other guy?”

I shrugged. “Not sure. It might be nothing. But my instincts are telling me otherwise.”

“Was it a tall guy, dark hair, mustache?” she asked.

My eyes widened. “Do you know him?”

“I think it might be his new business partner.” She furrowed her brow. “I’ve seen them together too.”

“What?” I asked.

“I’m with you. Could be nothing. But maybe we should let Barney know. I just wonder if the two of them together did something to Kevin for revenge.” Fiona looked at her watch and gazed around the bar.

I gasped. One of Uncle Jack’s poker buddies. I hoped for my uncle’s sake that it wasn’t true. But we needed to find out for certain.

“We should get started again. We have a lot of games left,” Fiona said and returned to the center of the horseshoe bar. She clapped her hands for attention, and the players resumed their positions.

“Team two, you better get it in gear if you want a chance at winning tonight,” Fiona teased.

She began the second half of the game. Several questions in and our team was within one point of team one.

“Come on, losers, I need the money,” Anna belted toward her team. She stepped back, red-faced at her outburst, bumping into Justin.

Fiona scowled, holding up the cards for the last two questions. With prize money on the line, the game had turned serious. Truthfully, Anna seemed to be the only one not taking it in stride.

Fiona read the last question. “What is Scooby Doo’s full name?”

“I know it.” Anna’s hand shot up. At this point we all wanted to let her have it and be done. The game had become not so fun anymore. “Scoobert Doo!” She looked around for the adoration from her team. Seeing none, she leapt into Justin’s arms and kissed his cheek.

That guy was quite the gentleman to put up with that. I was sure Fiona was contemplating changes to the game to avoid Anna’s antics in the future. Seeing a need to rescue Justin, Fiona approached and grabbed his hand, leading him to my side of the bar. Anna continued to high five her teammates, who were attempting to distance themselves from her.

“Maybe next time you can be on my team,” Justin said.

I smiled. “Hey, I booked us another kayak ride, if you’re game.”

“Always. I need to redeem myself. Thanks for doing that.” He turned toward Fiona. “I have to go. Thanks for a fun time,” he said and left.

Fiona stepped closer to me. “Another date?”

“Stop it. He’s just showing me the town. Hey, something else occurred to me.” I grabbed Fiona’s arm and pulled her in to whisper in her ear. I shared my revised theory. It felt really over the top. If I accused someone who wasn’t guilty of killing Kevin, it could ruin their life. But if I was right, I had to follow my gut. Nobody should get away with murder.

“What do you think?” I asked. I nervously shook my hands. If Fiona said go for it, I would.

“I think you need to call Barney.”

“I do too.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked around the busy bar. Too noisy in here and I didn’t want anyone to overhear. I held up the phone. “I’ll step outside.”

Fiona nodded. “Trust your instincts, Tilly,” she said. “We’ll start our next round of games when you get back.”

I turned and left the crowded bar.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The evening air had cooled, splashing my face for a reality wakeup. I sat on the bench next to the front wall of Fiona’s, confirming I was alone. I held the phone in my hands, the number entered. I took a deep breath and pushed the dial button. After two rings Barney answered. There was no turning back now. I put the phone to my ear.

“Hey, Tilly. You calling about the old man’s birthday bash plans?” Barney asked.

I smiled.

“Not this time. I have something else for you. It might seem like a crazy idea. But I have to share what I know and let the professional do his work.” I stood and walked further from the front door of Fiona’s. A few small bonfires dotted the beach from the evening crowd. I forced the words out of my mouth. Once I began, they continued to flow, spilling out my premise for Kevin’s murder. Barney was silent the entire time. I held my phone away from my ear and looked to be sure I was still connected. “Barney?”

“I’m here,” he said. “I’m making notes.”

“I know it’s far-fetched. But do you think it’s possible?” I asked.

“You’d be surprised how reality is stranger than fiction, hon,” he said. “And Tilly?”

He waited for me to answer. “Yes?”

“Don’t say anything. I think you’re on the right track,” Barney said.

I shuddered. Fiona stuck her head outside and looked up and down the sidewalk. She waved at me. I nodded and held up a finger, signaling I was almost done.

“You don’t have to worry. I’ll take it from here,” Barney said.

“Thank you. And yes, I’ve got plans in the works for Unkie’s party,” I said, ending the call on a happy note.

I was so pumped for the shindig, to be able to treat Uncle Jack for all of the kindness and love he showed me.

I gulped in the cool, clear air before returning inside. The dinner crowd had thinned a bit, and the remaining customers were primarily at the bar, ready for round two of games.

Fiona held two hula hoops in her hand. She instructed the two teams on the rules of the game. It was a head-to-head competition. The person on the team to hula longer than the other would get a point. Two rounds.

She finished her explanation, which promoted a response from Anna. “Boo. This is lame. Let’s do more trivia.”

Anna’s team glared at her. I was pretty sure that outburst might just get her banned from game night. Fiona intended for fun, but the competition for the prize was making it too serious.

Anna stepped forward and grabbed a hoop. “Well, let’s get on with it.” She looked at me, daring me to take her on.

Fiona deliberately handed the hoop to someone else on my team. I needed to thank her later for helping me avoid that direct confrontation.

“OK. As soon as the hoop hits the floor, you’re out,” Fiona advised.

We all stepped back and the two hula contestants began on Fiona’s “ready, set, go.” Anna had taken the lead, smoothly swirling the hoop around her waist. Her opponent wildly swiveled his hips, trying to keep the hoop in flight, but to no avail.

Anna raised her hands in victory, letting the hoop drop to the floor. As she picked it up to hand it to the next in line, I noticed she had shoes identical to mine. Not a big deal. A lot of people liked Converse brand shoes. But the kicker was the rest of her outfit was identical to the one I wore the other day at the beach with Justin. I shivered. This was more than coincidence. It creeped me out.

I took a seat at the bar to wait my turn, nursing another paloma cocktail. Anna plopped into the chair next to me. I fixed my eyes on the next hula duo.

“Whew, that’s a workout,” Anna said.

I glanced down as I sipped my beverage. “Nice shoes.” I couldn’t help myself. “Just like mine.” I stuck my leg out for her to see.

“Oh, you’re copying me,” she said and straightened in her seat.

“Yours look pretty new,” I said. I hopped off the chair and grabbed the hula hoop to take my turn. “Did those replace the stinky pair from the pig pen?”

Her eyes widened. She reached for her drink and took a long swig, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’ve had these forever. I’m just now wearing them.”

“Except,” I started. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Barney enter the doorway. He stepped to the side and scanned the room. “You left your other pair behind in the paddle boat.” I moved to the center of the room to begin the next round of hooping.

Anna slipped off the bar stool. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You think you can come to this town and just take over? With your stupid little cupcakes that aren’t even very good.”

I held the hoop, ready to begin. Her jab hurt my ego a bit. I was still learning the baking thing, but people told me they liked my cupcakes.

Anna continued slinking toward the door.

“Tilly,” Fiona said. I looked at her, ready to begin hooping. I was under no illusion that I would be any good, ready to hand the victory over to my opponent. Fiona tilted her head toward Anna. Message received.

I removed the hoop and rushed toward Anna, looping it over her shoulders, capturing her in place. She squirmed to get loose, stomping on my shoes. I quickly moved my foot and she lost her balance. Barney stepped forward and took the hoop from me. “Tilly, I think you’ve just invented a new police tactic. Nice work,” he said.

I grinned. My attempted doppelganger hung her head and sobbed. “It’s not fair,” she said as she sniffled.

Barney let the hoop drop and pulled cuffs from his belt. “Anna Bridges. You are under the arrest for the murder of Kevin Packton,” Barney finished reciting her Miranda rights.

“You’ll pay for this, Tilly,” Anna hollered over her shoulder as Barney led her from the bar.

I turned and the room exploded in a round of applause. Shouts of “congratulations,” “way to go,” “buy that girl another drink” rang out. My hands shook.

Fiona rushed and enveloped me in a huge hug. She held me at arm’s length, holding up her hand for a high five. “You are so brave.”

I shook my head as she escorted me to a bar stool. “My instincts took over, thankfully. With my energy amped up, I feel like I could whip everyone at this hooping contest.” I laughed.

“I think game night is over for now,” she said. “Actually, I was considering canceling it all together. Every time Anna came, it got weird and too serious. I’m all about the fun.”

“I’m figuring that out,” I said.

Fiona gave me a squeeze and returned to bartend. “I think you and I are just getting started, my friend.” She set out several glasses and started mixing the cocktails like a pro.

I was pretty sure Unkie would have a lot of questions next time I saw him. Word traveled fast in this town, and no telling how the story would evolve by the time it got to him. He would probably be high fiving me as well.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Thank you, Steven.” The grocery delivery boy set the bags of ingredients and supplies on the kitchen counter in the back of Uncle Jack’s antique shop. My space was wall-to-wall with baking items. I could barely move to do what I needed. I loved seeing Unkie every day and didn’t want to think about my own place yet. I had to find a way to make this work as long as possible. I wasn’t ready for that change.

“You’re welcome, ma’am,” the teenager said and slightly bowed.

How did I get old enough to be a ma’am? I certainly didn’t feel that old. But with the events from the last several days, I sure did feel tired. Sleuthing with my new friend Fiona and capturing a murderer sapped my energy. I needed to perk up for Uncle Jack’s party. I wanted it to be epic.

I began unpacking the bags.

“Need any help?” Uncle Jack asked.

His business boomed as well. He could actually use the space where he had built my kitchen in his shop to display more antiques if he wanted. It warmed my heart that he traded that for having me here.

I chuckled.

“What? My organization is getting better,” he said and extracted the remainder of the groceries and folded the paper bags.

I held up a hand. “You’re right.” I looked around. Since I had arrived in town, Unkie had significantly improved the layout of the store. Almost every customer who shopped now bought something. He was a bit stubborn at first to make any changes. He and his brother Frank had run the store for decades and did well. I think the idea to change ultimately became his. Then there was no stopping him.

“Til, you’re so busy. You don’t have to worry about my birthday. We can just go to Fiona’s.” He looked at me.

Uncle Jack was a people person. No way was I letting his birthday celebration be that tame.

“That ship has sailed, so to speak,” I said. Booking that cruise was a brilliant stroke, if I don’t say so myself.

“If you’re sure.” His jowls drooped. He had gotten all serious on me, which was unlike him.

I rounded the kitchen counter and grabbed one of his hands in mine. I peered into his eyes. “You deserve this and more. Let me do it for you.” I returned his glare. “It’s settled. So I have the guest list drafted. I’m assuming poker buddies for sure.”

“Yep. Although, I don’t know if we can invite Barney without Florence. Seems they are getting along quite well.” Uncle Jack smirked. He really loved to tease his friend, and this gave him a whole new line for the kidding.

“The more the merrier,” I said. “But . . .” I started. I busied myself with some sugar cookies cutters. “Are you sure about Micky? I mean, I know he didn’t kill Kevin. But his behavior at the wharf really bothered me.”

Uncle Jack took a couple of cookie cutters and held them up to his eyes like star-shaped glasses. What a goof. Always trying to ease the tension. “It was his brother visiting. The two of them hadn’t been on good terms for a long time. Micky’s trying to mend the relationship.”

“Give me those.” I reached for the cutters and returned them to the box. My repertoire of baked items was growing. Getting into frosted sugar cookies was one of my next major steps. I had so many ideas of shape, colors, and designs, and I couldn’t wait.

“Tilly, I can’t figure out how you suspected Anna of killing Kevin?” Uncle Jack shuffled his feet. He fashioned himself as a good judge of character. He had known Anna when she worked at the moped shop until she had been fired for badmouthing the boss.

“I made an educated guess. Her shoes definitely caught my eye. And Fiona told me about her trying to get hired by Kevin. That her family had owned the Jefferson Distillery that went out of business quite a long time ago. I wonder if she wanted revenge.”

Unkie took a step back and put his hand on his heart. I think it hurt him to see a young person go bad. “She must have held a grudge for quite a long time.” He shook his head. “Barney said that letter we found in the typewriter led him to an old chest on the Jefferson property. There was another letter in there of a confession of a murder during prohibition of someone that tried to put them out of business.”

“Well, and Fiona and I snooped on Kevin’s property,” I blurted. I had to get it out in the open. I kept my head down, ready for the backlash.

“Tilly!” And there it was.

I slowly lifted my head. “I know, I know. But I don’t think I would have put the clues together otherwise,” I said.

“You certainly have a streak of your grandma Luna’s boldness in you. But it also nicely complements your logical, organized side.”

We both whipped our heads around at a yowl coming from the front door. It didn’t sound like Willie. We followed the noise, and sure enough, Florence’s cat Gwinnie had arrived for a visit. Willie strutted from his bed behind the checkout counter like he was expecting a visitor. The two of them circled each other for a second, then began nuzzling.

I felt like we were watching a show. Willie led Gwinnie to the back of the store, and they disappeared behind the counter. I looked at Uncle Jack, my eyes wide and my hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Oh boy. Those two really seem to like each other. We should probably return Gwinnie to Florence before she starts to worry.” Uncle Jack followed the duo and scooped Gwinnie up. Willie looked at her as if to acknowledge he would see her again soon.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s the last time you’ll have to do that,” I said and followed Uncle Jack.

He exited the store and stopped. “Oh no.”

I looked around him and saw a reddish-colored chicken that looked suspiciously like my one from my neighbor enter Florence’s Bookstore. We followed the hen.

Florence looked up from the box of books she was unpacking. “What are you doing with my Gwinnie?”

Uncle Jack handed the cat to Florence. “She was visiting Willie. I didn’t want you to worry about her. If you are ever looking for her, she’s probably next door.” He wiped his hand on his shorts to rid them of cat fur.

Florence looked down and took a step back, seeing the chicken in her bookstore. “Well, keep your mangy cat away from my princess.” She hugged Gwinnie closer and pointed with a free hand. “And take that chicken with you.”

The chicken had found a space in a reading nook between the bookshelves and was perched in the corner.

“Got it,” Uncle Jack said. He squeezed between the chair and the wall and hoisted the chicken into his arms. He paused mid-lift and turned to look at me over his shoulder. He grinned widely, his face hidden from Florence. Sure enough, underneath the chicken right next to the table lay an egg.

Uncle Jack scooped up the egg, turned, and sped from the store.

I quickly followed. “Bye Florence.” I waved, snickering under my breath. That’s all we needed to add to this crazy mix. A rogue chicken who adopted the bookstore as her new laying nest.

***

Click the link below to get Fiona’s recipe for deep fried ravioli, and sign up for my newsletter.

Fiona’s Deep Fried Ravioli Recipe

***

Ready for more sand in your toes and warmth on your face?

***

Scrumptious sprinkle cake, bookstore chickens, and seeing double......

Order your copy of Birthday Cake and Burglary (Book 3) today!

A note from Sue

If you enjoyed Muffins and Misdeeds, please consider letting other readers know so they can also enjoy the yumminess of Tilly’s baked goods.

Thank you so much.

Muffins and Misdeeds Review Link

***

Also by Sue Hollowell

The Treehouse Hotel Mysteries Series

The return home to her small town comes with a cantankerous mama, a family hotel that needs some love, and a doozy of a murder mystery…

Start Reading Peonies and Peril (Book 1) Today

Morning Muffins

INGREDIENTS:

1-1/2 cups Whole Wheat Flour or Organic Whole Wheat Flour

3/4 cup Flaxseed Meal

3/4 cup Oat Bran Cereal or Organic Oat Bran Cereal

1 cup Brown Sugar

2 tsp Baking Soda

1 tsp Baking Powder

1/2 tsp Salt

2 tsp Ground Cinnamon

1-1/2 cups Carrots finely shredded

2 Apples peeled & shredded

1/2 cup Raisins (optional)

1 cup Chopped Nuts

3/4 cup Milk

2 Eggs beaten

1 tsp Vanilla Extract

DIRECTIONS

Mix together flour, flaxseed meal, oat bran, brown sugar, baking soda, baking powder, salt and cinnamon in a large bowl.

Stir in carrots, apples, raisins (if desired) and nuts. Combine milk, beaten eggs and vanilla. Pour liquid ingredients into dry ingredients. Stir until ingredients are moistened. DO NOT OVER MIX.

Fill muffin cups 3/4 full. Bake at 350 degrees F for 15-20 minutes.

Yield 15 medium muffins

ENJOY!