Tea Cups and Carnage (28 page)

Jumping off the sidewalk to avoid being smashed by the wood or its carrier, she waited for the guy to slap the sheet on the saw horses set up in the middle of her front lawn. This must be the repair person Shauna hired. Something about the guy, and his short brown hair seemed familiar. In tighter than normal jeans and a faded T-shirt, at least he was easy on the eyes from the back.

“You need to watch where you’re going with that.” She muttered and turned toward the front door. Her day had been filled with bulldozing men, but this was the first one who actually could have run her over.

“Kitty Cat? Is that you?”

Crap
. Cat stood frozen to the ground, not wanting to turn around. There was only one person who called her by that nickname. No one had dared since she beat up most of the fifth grade class and put them straight that she was not a feline. Seth Howard had just laughed when she’d wrestled him to the ground. When he’d flipped her over, trapping her instead, he’d whispered in her ear. “You’ll always be Kitty Cat to me.” Then he’d let her up and shrugged for the class to see.

Slowly she turned around, banishing the memory from her mind and bringing her back to the here and now. “Seth? You’re the handyman?”

He laughed that easy laugh she remembered from too many weekend trips with the gang, camping, fishing, and drinking around the campfire. He had been her first and last boyfriend before she met Michael. The two men couldn’t have been more different. Seth was Colorado born and raised. He could fish, hunt, and build a small shack in the woods to live off the land. Michael preferred his fish gently poached and served with a little Riesling. Or had.

“I didn’t realize you were back in town.” He reached out and touched her brown hair, cut short into a pixie. “You look good, I like the new ‘do.”

She should have melted on the spot, but there was just enough ice left in her veins to cause her to nod like one of those Hawaiian dolls Uncle Pete had on his old truck’s dashboard. She licked her lips, suddenly feeling her mouth dry up like the Salt Lake Desert. She should start carrying bottled water when she walked. Yeah, that was the problem, her drinking habits. She gave in, trying not to be rude. “Thanks. You look good yourself.”

“You buy this?” He nodded to the weathered blue Victorian behind her.

Cat squirmed a little. Seth hadn’t approved of her dating Michael. And when they got married in the little church on campus, he’d snuck in the back, standing in front of the closed doors, his hands crossed in front of him as the vows were read. Then he disappeared. A total Benjamin Braddock moment, only Seth hadn’t said a word. This was the first time she’d seen him since her wedding day. “Actually, Michael left it to me.” She paused. “He died earlier this year.”

Seth nodded and walked closer, putting a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry to hear that. But weren’t you divorced?”

So he had kept up on the gossip about her.
For some reason, this made her gut tighten, just a bit. “Three years now. Believe me, I never thought he’d keep me in the will. I hadn’t even talked to him since the day the papers were signed.”

He searched her face, looking for something, what, she didn’t know. He lowered his voice when he responded. “I am sorry.”

She wondered exactly what he was sorry about, but didn’t want to ask. They’d gone their separate ways and now she was back and single. That didn’t mean that he was available. For all she knew, he had a wife and six kids stashed somewhere in the woods. She dropped her gaze to his hand still on her arm. His left hand with no ring. He noticed her look and dropped his arm back to his side.

“About the house. Shauna tells me you’re opening some kind of hotel?” He took a step back, increasing the distance between them.

Cat wanted to step forward, close the space back up. Hell, if she was honest with herself, she wanted to step into his arms, kiss him and drag him up to her bedroom. But no ring didn’t mean no attachments. She’d learned that early in her LA dating years. Besides, how cliché was it to fall back in bed with your high school love? She banished the thoughts of what they could be doing and turned toward the house so she wouldn’t have to look into those dark brown eyes.

“Actually, I’m opening a writer’s retreat. People come for a week, we feed them breakfast and a few dinners, set up time for them in the college library and a couple seminars, but mostly, they are on their own to write.” She regarded him. He didn’t seem bored with the conversation topic yet. “I’m an author now.”

Seth nodded. “Sounds about right. You always were good with stories.” He nodded to the wood. “You’ve got some flooring that needs replaced in most of the second floor bedrooms. I should be able to get that done today and I can paint tomorrow.”

She stared at him, wondering if there was something more to his comment about “stories.” “Sounds good. Let me know if you need anything.”

Then she turned and ran into her house, up the three flights of stairs and into her office, shutting the door behind her. When she’d caught her breath, she stood at the end window and watched him work, willing him not to look up so she wouldn’t get caught.

A knock came at the door. “Cat, you want some lunch?” Shauna rarely came into the office if the door was closed, assuming Cat was writing, unless she was dropping off coffee or food.

Which she should be doing, rather than watch the way Seth’s muscles rippled in the sun, especially after he surrendered to the heat and stripped off the t-shirt to the tank underneath. “I’m not hungry right now,” she called back.

Well, she was hungry, just not for the soup and sandwich Shauna had prepared.

Lynn Cahoon is the author of the
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling Tourist Trap cozy mystery series. Guidebook to Murder, book 1 of the series won the Reader's Crown for Mystery Fiction in 2015. She's also the author of the soon to be released, Cat Latimer series, with the first book, A STORY TO KILL, releasing in mass market paperback September 2016.She lives in a small town like the ones she loves to write about with her husband and two fur babies. Sign up for her newsletter at www.lynncahoon.com

In the gentle coastal town of South Cove, California, all Jill Gardner wants is to keep her store—Coffee, Books, and More—open and running. So why is she caught up in the business of murder?

When Jill’s elderly friend, Miss Emily, calls in a fit of pique, she already knows the city council is trying to force Emily to sell her dilapidated old house. But Emily’s gumption goes for naught when she dies unexpectedly and leaves the house to Jill—along with all of her problems…
and
her enemies. Convinced her friend was murdered, Jill is finding the list of suspects longer than the list of repairs needed on the house. But Jill is determined to uncover the culprit—especially if it gets her closer to South Cove's finest, Detective Greg King. Problem is, the killer knows she’s on the case—and is determined to close the book on Jill
permanently
…

In the California coastal town of South Cove, history is one of its many tourist attractions—until it becomes deadly…

Jill Gardner, proprietor of Coffee, Books, and More, has discovered that the old stone wall on her property might be a centuries-old mission worthy of being declared a landmark. But Craig Morgan, the obnoxious owner of South Cove’s most popular tourist spot, The Castle, makes it his business to contest her claim. When Morgan is found murdered at The Castle shortly after a heated argument with Jill, even her detective boyfriend has to ask her for an alibi. Jill decides she must find the real murderer to clear her name. But when the killer comes for her, she’ll need to jump from historic preservation to self-preservation…

The tourist town of South Cove, California, is a lovely place to spend the holidays. But this year, shop owner Jill Gardner discovers there’s no place like home for homicide…

As owner of Coffee, Books, and More, Jill Gardner looks forward to the hustle and bustle of holiday shoppers. But when the mayor ropes her into being liaison for a new work program, ‘tis the season to be wary. Local businesses are afraid the interns will be delinquents, punks, or worse. For Jill, nothing’s worse than Ted Hendricks—the jerk who runs the program. After a few run-ins, Jill’s ready to kill the guy. That, however, turns out to be unnecessary when she finds Ted in his car—dead as a doornail. Detective Greg King assumes it’s a suicide; Jill thinks it’s murder. And if the holidays weren’t stressful enough, a spoiled blonde wants to sue the city for breaking her heel. Jill has to act fast to solve this mess—before the other shoe drops…

Jill Gardner is not particularly thrilled to be portraying a twenties flapper for the dinner theater murder mystery. Though it
is
for charity…