Plotting for Murder (Cozy Mystery Bookshop Series Book 1) Read online

  Okay. He’s definitely flirting with me now.

  My mother the amateur matchmaker is probably behind his attraction. I’m trying to decide if I’m annoyed at my mom or flattered that he’d be attracted. Maybe a bit of both. “How about we keep those dinners and drinks all about business? At least until the restaurant is open.”

  His smile fades as if I’d just hit his dimmer switch. “Sounds disappointing but reasonable. Luckily, I’m a patient man. See you in a few days with some papers to sign.” He squats and pets Cooper. “You be good for Sawyer, little man.” Cooper rolls on his back to alert Gage that there’s a belly to be rubbed too.

  “Thanks, Gage. I appreciate it.” I hate to disappoint the guy, and maybe myself just a bit, because the man is incredibly good-looking, but I don’t have time for anyone else right now. Maybe one day.

  I return Gage’s wave, and then my new puppy and I watch him walk away. Not a bad view from this side either. He’s always dressed in sharp suits that fit his toned body well.

  “New dog?” A deep voice that haunts me still even after so many years makes me cringe.

  I turn around and have to lift my chin to meet the annoying sheriff’s gaze. Dylan Cooper’s blue eyes always twinkle like he has a secret. Because he does. He’s seen me in my birthday suit. Luckily, I was way thinner back then. “Shouldn’t you be harassing jaywalkers or something?”

  He leans his body with way too many muscles closer. “I’d rather harass you.” Then he crouches and pets Cooper. The dog clearly has no taste, because Cooper is practically sitting on Dylan’s lap now. “This is a cute pooch. What’s his name?”

  Why can’t the earth open right now and save me from having this embarrassing conversation? “Oh, look. I think someone is robbing Renee’s store.” I point across the park, to the ice-cream shop my only friend from high school runs.

  Dylan ignores me as he lifts the little metal name tag hanging from my dog’s collar I had no idea was there. Then a big grin lights up Dylan’s face. His shoulders shake as he laughs. “Is this your way of telling me you still love me?”

  I want to taser myself with Dylan’s weapon. “My mother’s idea. Not mine. Obviously.”

  He stands, snuggles the pup against his chest, and scratches Cooper’s ears. “Alexandra and Collin are going to love him.”

  Why my sister had to go and marry Dylan’s brother, ruining family Christmas gatherings for the rest of my life, is a mystery I’ll never solve. Yet, Dylan and I both love our niece and nephew more than we enjoy fighting, so we tolerate each other. At least in front of the kids.

  “Yeah. Well, gotta run.” I hold my hands out for the dog, but Dylan makes no move to hand Cooper over. It’s doggie blackmail.

  He says, “Heard you were resuming book club tonight. And that you’re cooking. Need another member?”

  Brittany must’ve tattled. She doesn’t say a word to paying customers all day, but Dylan comes in with his wavy dark hair, pretty smile, and dazzling blue eyes and the kid sings like the fat lady at the opera. My plan is to try out some recipes I’m considering for my new restaurant on the book group.

  “Didn’t make enough. You eat like a starving pack of wolves. Dog, please.” I hold out my hands again, and this time, he passes Cooper over.

  “How’re you holding up? Anything I can do to help?” Sincerity beams from within his gorgeous eyes.

  I don’t want him to be nice to me right now. I might cry. And he’s the last person I’d want to see my tears. Ever again. “I’m okay. Thanks, though.” I have to blink hard to stop the burning in the back of my eyes.

  I put Cooper on all fours, and we head back toward the bookstore. “If we have any leftovers tonight, I’ll have Brittany run them by your office tomorrow.”

  Dylan, a self-proclaimed foodie, has a better palate than even my highly trained one, having traveled the world during his time in the military. Not that I’d ever tell him that. Still, I’d like to know what he thinks of my new crab cake recipe because he never holds back. He’s always brutally honest.

  He calls out from behind, “See? You do still love me.”

  Brother. Moving back to Chicago is looking better and better. On the other hand, my mom only ever asked one thing of me. Right before she died, she asked me to try living here again. So, I’m trying.

  Dylan living here again isn’t going to make things any easier. He and I dated in high school and through my years at MIT, after which we planned to be married. Unfortunately, then his father left his mother after thirty-five years of marriage. Shortly after, his mom died in a car crash. Some say running her car over a cliff wasn’t an accident. She’d done it on purpose because of her grief. As a result, Dylan lost faith in his father and in the institution of marriage, and it left him questioning his love for me.

  We’re both thirty-two now, haven’t been together for almost eight years, and because our sibs fell in love, we’ve found a way to be around each other at holidays that seems to work.

  Besides, I can’t leave and let my uncle win. He disrespected my mom every chance he got, and if I don’t accept the terms of the trust my grandparents set up, it all goes to him. I’ll just have to learn to live in the same small town along with Dylan Cooper. And Gage. And any other men my mother probably guilted or cajoled into asking me out after she’d passed, in case I don’t take Dylan back.

  Dylan will be the toughest. The man broke my heart so badly, it’s never been the same.

  Chapter 2

  Cooper and Brittany watch as I shove around a few tables and chairs in the small dining area in the bookstore to prepare for the Thursday-evening book club. I ask my black-clad employee, “Do we have enough coffee left for everyone?” Our daily delivery doesn’t always last the whole day, what with all the people who stop by because the croissants and coffee are always free. Hearing the latest gossip is fun, but it’d be nice if a few actually bought a book now and then too.

  Brittany shrugs. “Don’t know.”

  I close my eyes and count to five. “Perhaps you could go check for me?”

  “Dude. This is a book club. They drink alcohol.”

  I stop my arranging. “We can serve alcohol in the store?”

  “Not legally.” Brittany rolls her eyes. “There’s a bunch of cases of wine in the back by the heater, and that old fridge in the other corner is filled with beer. I put the glasses out by the front door like I always do. Zoe never let me handle the booze. That’s your job.”

  “Good. Because I could use some wine right now myself.” I hadn’t noticed the wine because I haven’t begun to tackle the messy storage room. I’ve been too busy trying to make the storefront look organized and neat the past few weeks. Just like my mom always did.

  She’d arranged little reading nooks scattered about, themed and organized by author. The Black Crow nook consists of two comfy chairs behind some bookcases surrounded by works of Poe. Around another set of bookshelves is the Agatha Christie Parlor, with its wingback chairs near the fireplace surrounded by the works of the grand dame of mystery. And in the rear, the more modern J. D. Robb futuristic futon and chairs beckoned for relaxed reading comforts. My mother wanted people to come and stay for a while, and I want to keep that tradition going.

  Before I go into the back room, I look around to see if the two customers in the store need anything. One, a middle-aged, dark-haired man I don’t know, is busy reading the back cover of a book, and the other person had been my nemesis in high school, red-haired bombshell Crystal Meyers. She’d always had a crush on Dylan and therefore hated me. Why she’s been hanging around so much lately was another mystery. Probably scouting the place to see if Dylan ever comes to visit me now that I’m back. Well, he doesn’t, so Crystal can have Dylan Cooper all to herself.

  I go into the dusty back room, stacked to the roof with old books, pass the bathroom, and find the many cases of wine. My mom must’ve found a sale or something, because there must be twenty cases of the inexpensive California vintage.

/>   We’re having crab cakes, truffle mac and cheese, and spicy corn on the cob, so I grab two bottles of white wine. There’s a cooler by the fridge, and I load that up with ice and throw the beer and wine inside. Then I haul it all out to the dining area with Cooper on my heels.

  He hasn’t let me out of his sight all afternoon, poor guy. His life is in upheaval too, being torn from his mom and siblings. And now all we have is each other. My sneaky mother might have done me a huge favor by giving me Cooper after all, because her matchmaking attempts from the grave certainly aren’t going to work.

  While I was busy being a barback, Brittany has been busy arranging the appetizers I brought from home. She says, “These look pretty good.”

  I quickly make plates for her and her mother, then wrap them up in cellophane. As I hand over their food, I ask, “How many do we usually have for book club?”

  Brittany looks at her phone and then starts packing up her things. “Five regulars plus a few randoms sometimes. Wade and Chad only showed up because Julie wanted to get a night off from her kid. The googly eyes they make at her makes me want to barf. Admiral Wright is the one who runs it mostly.”

  It’s surprising that the Admiral runs the book club. He has a screw loose. And no one actually knows if he was really ever in the navy or not.

  Julie Boyle steps inside the front door along with Chad Fellows and Wade Peters. All three went to school with me, although the guys were a few years ahead. Wade and Chad were always competitive with each other and got into all kinds of trouble because of their stupid dares. I’ve heard nothing has changed, and Dylan had to throw them both in jail last weekend for being drunk and disorderly when they got in a fight about a pool game at Skippy’s, our local dive bar.

  My mom paid Chad, our top local gardener, through the rest of the year to care for the massive flower beds at my house. He and his cute smile had been by earlier to spray. No way my mom the matchmaker would hire a wrinkly old man to tend her gardens. That wouldn’t work into her bombard-Sawyer-with-choices-in-men plan.

  Chad’s a nice guy, though. And mom hired Wade to tackle a huge carpentry project at our crumbling Victorian before she died. I’m afraid the termites are winning the war, but Wade assures me he can fix all the bad woodwork. I think my handsome blond carpenter might still be there by Christmas at the rate he’s moving. I suspect my mother has implanted Wade in my home as a dating option as well. Like give me a buffet to choose from, and maybe I’ll end up with one choice. “Hi, guys.”

  Chad lifts a hand, and before Julie can say anything, Crystal grabs his arm and drags him to the other side of the store for a hushed conversation. Like she’d been waiting for him because she knew he came to book club. Maybe that’s why she’s been hanging around so much?

  Chad’s gardening gloves still stick out of the back pocket of his jeans as his hands wave with expression at whatever they’re arguing about.

  Wade smiles. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day. You’re an amazing cook, Sawyer.”

  “Thanks.” My mother probably told him to say that to get on my good side.

  As Julie, who always reminded me of a delicate pixie, lifts her perfect chin in greeting my way, Wade grabs an empty beer mug from the front counter, hands a wineglass to Julie, and then they both head to the dining area toward the food and liquor. Since Wade is practically a fixture at my house lately, I’ll let him serve himself. Like he does with the leftovers in my fridge at home on a regular basis. The guy is always hungry. Speaking of which, I need to refill the mac and cheese already.

  By the time I’m done, the tables are filling with the members of the club. Chad has finished his fight with Crystal, and she’s left and so has the lone man who was browsing. Chad pulls out a chair and sits with Julie and Wade. Looks like the food is holding up, but we might need more wine. Mostly for me.

  Brittany mumbles, “I’m out,” and then says something that might have actually been a “thanks for the food.”

  I’m busy watching Madge Wallace, the dispatcher at the police station who wears ugly Christmas sweaters year-round, trip through the front door spilling her bag full of yarn and needles everywhere. Luckily, the Admiral, who is tall, white-haired, and still spry is right behind and catches her before the middle-aged woman falls. He has to be in his seventies. I’m impressed he can still move that fast. He calls out, “Hello, Sailor.”

  He’s always called me that instead of Sawyer. I’ve never figured out if he does it on purpose or actually thinks that’s my name. “Hi, Admiral. Nice catch.”

  He blinks at me like he’s confused. “Catch?”

  “You know, Madge? Never mind. Nice to see you guys.”

  Cooper sees the yarn on the floor and yelps with glee. Before I can stop him, he’s across the store. He grabs a mouthful of purple yarn and takes off. He’s running circles around people’s feet, hog-tying everyone with yarn. The ones sitting down have their legs tied to their chairs.

  Amid all the confusion, I yell, “Nobody move. I’ll get some scissors.”

  Wade leans down and catches Cooper. Then he gets in his face and growls, “Stop it! You could’ve hurt someone!”

  Cooper is whining and shaking with fear. Before I can intervene, Brittany sets her things on the counter and snatches Cooper from Wade. “He’s just a puppy, bro. Calm down.”

  Okay. Brittany is all right after all. Maybe I can teach her and the dog some manners at the same time.

  After I cut everyone loose, I tie Cooper’s leash to the front door handle and flip the CLOSED sign over as Brittany leaves.

  “Nite.” I wave to Brittany as she passes by, and then I lock the door behind her. I’m starving, so I grab a plate and pour myself a jumbo glass of wine. I sit with Wade, Julie, and Chad and then dig in too.

  The baked crab cake is light and flaky with just the right amount of bay seasoning. Might need a little more salt next time, but pretty close to perfect. The truffle mac and cheese makes Julie moan with pleasure every time she puts a forkful into her mouth, and I see that Chad and Wade have had three servings of the corn each, judging by the empty cobs. I glance at the Admiral’s and Madge’s empty plates at the next table, and I declare it a winner, winner chicken dinner. The crab cakes and spicy corn on the cob are going on my menu for sure. The truffle mac and cheese will be a signature side offering. It’s a good start.

  As I clear the plates from our table, Chad, who’s looking a little red-faced, says, “Be right back.” Then he heads for the bathroom in the back room while holding his stomach.

  I hope he isn’t allergic to the crab. The rest of the group looks happy and full as they stand and make their way to the couches and chairs set up as a little reading area in the corner to start their meeting.

  I get busy stacking the dishes I have to wash by hand in the little sink in the corner. After things are tidy again, I check on Cooper. He’s nowhere to be found, but his collar is hanging from the leash still tied to the front door. Where has he gone off to?

  “Cooper?” I call out, and after a moment, my little dog appears, weaving around the bookcases and holding some cloth object in his mouth. I lean down and take it from him. It’s a glove. Like the ones Chad had in his back pocket. I lift my head to see if Chad has rejoined the group, but he hasn’t.

  My stomach drops. I hope he didn’t get sick from my food. If that news gets out, my restaurant might never get off the ground without local support. That is after it’s built and I spring the news on my uncle that I own the restaurant.

  Julie, as blonde and blue-eyed as Wade, walks my way with her empty wineglass. “Need a refill. Thanks for the awesome food, Sawyer.”

  “My pleasure.” I grab an almost empty wine bottle and pour the rest into her glass. It’s only a half pour. “I’ll grab another bottle from the back.”

  Julie points to the glove I’d laid on the counter. “Chad must’ve dropped that. Is he still in the back?” She puts her glass down and heads for the rear. “I’ll get another bottle while
I go check on him.”

  Dropping to Cooper’s level, I whisper, “I guess everyone knows where the liquor stash is around here. Or maybe that was a ploy for some alone time to make googly eyes at each other. You need to go outside, Coop?”

  A loud scream from the back startles me. Was that Julie?

  I run to investigate. Julie is at the other end of the stockroom, leaning over Chad’s prone body. He’s facedown on the floor and not moving. My stomach lurches before I squeak out, “I’ll dial 9-1-1. Does he have a shellfish allergy, Julie?”

  She shakes her head. “We eat crab all the time.” Tears stream down her cheeks as she shakes Chad’s shoulder to wake him.

  I head to the kitchen to find my cell, but dispatcher Madge has beat me to it. She’s already talking to the rescue crew. After she disconnects, she calls out in a take-charge voice, “Help’s on the way. Does anyone know CPR?”

  Wade and the Admiral both nod and then head back to help. A few moments later, Julie reappears, white as a ghost and shaking. “He’s having trouble breathing.”

  Madge and I each take one of Julie’s arms and lead her to a couch. “Help will be here any second.” Then I glance at Madge. “Should we call Dylan too?”

  “Just texted him.”

  The front door is still locked, so I jog across the store and turn the bolt to let the emergency crew in when they arrive. My mind is racing for what we should do next. Cooper barking at all the excitement isn’t helping me think.

  Madge sits next to Julie on the couch and rubs her back in comfort. Madge is used to taking emergency calls for her job at the station and is the only calm person. I’m totally freaking out inside, but I’m trying to stay calm too.

  Thankfully, the fire station is right down the street, and two paramedics arrive. One of the men asks, “Where is he?”

  I point to the storage area. “In the back. Right through there.”

  Dylan arrives next and runs past me to the storage room too. Moments later, the Admiral and Wade return to the couches. Wade puts an arm around Julie’s shoulders and lets her cry on his shirt. I don’t know what to do except hug my dog and hope Chad is going to be okay.