Peaches and Crime (Sandy Bay Cozy Mystery Book 16) Read online

  PEACHES AND CRIME

  A Sandy Bay Cozy Mystery

  By

  Amber Crewes

  Published by Pen-n-a-Pad Publishing in 2019

  All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © Pen-n-a-Pad Publishing

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  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 except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  CONTENTS

  About Peaches and Crime

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  Thank You!

  About Jingle Bells and Deadly Smells

  ALSO BY AMBER CREWES

  Newsletter Signup

  About Peaches and Crime

  Released: November, 2019

  Series: Book 16 – Sandy Bay Cozy Mystery Series

  Standalone: Yes

  Cliff-hanger: No

  A suspicious fatal accident. A murder case going cold. Can a small town bakery owner overcome her personal problems and find a happy ending?

  Running one business can be stressful. Running two is murder!

  Meghan's new, yummy peach dessert range is evoking pleasant noises from her customers, including the Governor of the state. Her sense of euphoria at creating another culinary winner is cut short when she discovers that the premises of her other business, an event barn, has been vandalized.

  The rude and obnoxious behavior of an alleged expert, called in to beef up the security at The Barn, gives Meghan grief and concern. When this person is found dead on her business premises, her heart breaks for the person's loved ones.

  Could this death be accidental or intentional?

  Meghan finds herself at a crossroad as she has to make decisions that could have lasting consequences.

  The security of her customers’ needs to be guaranteed but at what cost?...

  Her long term relationship with her boyfriend has hit the rocks and seems irreparable...

  Will Meghan help to find a killer still on the loose or see everything she's worked so hard to build, come crashing down?

  THANK YOU FOR GETTING THIS BOOK IN THE SANDY BAY COZY MYSTERY SERIES. WHY DON’T YOU SIGN UP FOR UPDATES AND GET THE PREQUEL STORY SENT TO YOU FOR FREE

  Click Here to Receive Updates and the Prequel

  1

  Meghan Truman sighed contentedly as she leaned against the goose feather down comforter on the king bed in her hotel room. She was exhausted from a long day; she had woke up at four in the morning to travel to Seattle. Upon arrival at the hotel, she had dropped off her bags and dashed off to the first breakout session of the Women in Business Fellowship Conference she had decided to attend on a whim. Now, only moments after the final session of the day, she could finally relax.

  She peered around the room as she settled into the bed. The hotel room was twice the size of her apartment, and the dark wood finishing and antique furniture made Meghan feel elegant. The lights were low, but she was fine with that; she needed time to rest and process what had been a nearly eighteen hour day.

  “Ahhh,” she breathed happily as she pulled a beige wool throw blanket over her lap. “This is the nicest hotel I’ve ever stayed in. I wish my apartment were as nice as this place!”

  She heard a knock at her door. “Meghan? It’s me. Open up!”

  She groaned, rising from the bed and padding to the heavy oak door. “Kirsty? I don’t want to go to the happy hour. I’m ready for bed.”

  Meghan opened the door to find Kirsty Fisher standing before her, her hands on her hips. “I’m telling you, Meghan, you’ll regret it if you don’t go,” she lectured, her eyebrows raised. “The breakout sessions are fine, but the social events is where the real learning happens at this conference.”

  Meghan folded her arms over her chest, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Kirsty was one of the first people Meghan had met in Sandy Bay, her adopted hometown. She was a few years older than Meghan, and she had taken Meghan under her wing in her own sort of way. Kirsty was a wildly successful entrepreneur, and while she was still bouncing back from a nasty divorce, her latest business venture, a boutique event planning service, was launching soon, and it had received attention in the local and state press.

  “I invited you to this conference for a reason,” Kirsty went on, the hallway lights making her blonde bob seem even brighter. “This is an opportunity for you to learn how to grow your business and provide customers with unforgettable experiences. I’ve never invited anyone to this event before, but I thought you would be the perfect person. I am hoping I wasn’t wrong…”

  Meghan’s heart sank. She was grateful that Kirsty had invited her to the conference; Meghan’s business, a thriving bakery that had recently celebrated its one year anniversary, was growing rapidly, and she wanted to develop herself more as a professional. She had been eager to attend the conference, but now, as she stood in her pajamas, the last thing she wanted to do was network in the hotel lounge.

  “Fine,” Kirsty said, snapping her bubble-gum pink lips. “I can tell that you aren’t interested. I’ll just go by myself. It’s a pity, really…”

  “Give me five minutes,” Meghan grumbled. “I need to put on a clean outfit and run a brush through my hair.”

  Kirsty’s face brightened. “That’s the spirit,” she commended. “Here, let me help you choose an outfit. You have a white leather skirt, yes?”

  Fifteen minutes later, Meghan and Kirsty sauntered into the hotel lounge. Meghan was dressed just like Kirsty; both women wore all-white ensembles, and while Meghan’s style was typically casual, she was enjoying being dressed to the nines.

  “You look fabulous,” Kirsty complimented as Meghan blushed. “That skirt and the white turtleneck look sharp. It really complements your skin tone.”

  Meghan smiled as they sat down at a tall black table. She tucked her long, wavy hair behind her ears and peered at the menu. “What should I order?” she whispered. “It’s been forever since I’ve been out, and I don’t think I’ve ever been out at such a chic place...”

  Kirsty winked. “I’ll order the drinks. You have a bit of eyeliner on your cheek; why don’t you run to the ladies room and get it off?”

  Meghan’s dark eyes widened. “Whoops,” she lamented as she rose from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

  When Meghan returned to the table, she saw Kirsty was sitting with two other women. “The keynote speakers,” Meghan murmured as she recognized them. “Kirsty knows the keynote speakers?”

  “Meghan,” Kirsty greeted her as she sat down. “Ladies, this is my dear friend, Meghan Truman. Meghan is a business owner in Sandy Bay. She owns a bakery, and she is self-taught! This girl never even went to culinary school, and she managed to turn a profit last year. She has had a wonderful year of learning the business, and she is excited to learn more through our time together at the conference.”

  The woman to Kirsty’s left nodded warmly. She appeared to be in her mid-forties, and she was a statuesque beauty. She had long, black braids trailing down her back, and her skin was the col
or of a mocha latte.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said as she reached to shake Meghan’s hand. Her grip was firm and her smile was sincere. “I’m Kyrayah Glint. It’s always a treat to meet young business women.”

  “The pleasure is mine,” Meghan replied. “I loved your talk this afternoon. Your discussion on your experiences operating a non-profit in Somalia was eye-opening.”

  Kyrayah’s smile widened. “I’m happy to hear that. I grew up in Kenya, which neighbors Somalia, and the work I do in east Africa is near and dear to my heart.”

  Kirsty gestured to the other woman, a thin, pale woman with raven hair pulled tight into a bun atop her head. “And this is Jacqueline, Meghan. She owns and operates a beauty empire in the Midwest.”

  “An empire? That is exciting!”

  Jacqueline scowled. “It’s busy, to say the least,” she said, eyeing Meghan’s messy hair. “So, you’re a cook?”

  “I own a bakery,” Meghan politely corrected. “In Sandy Bay.”

  “That’s lovely,” Kyrayah cooed. “And what perfect timing to talk about a bakery; I spy a waiter with desserts. Let’s flag him down!”

  Kirsty waved over a uniformed waiter holding a platter of delicacies. “I shouldn’t,” she said as he placed down three small plates in front of the four women. “I’m really trying to stick to keto…”

  “Forget keto,” Kyrayah urged her. “You are with the ladies tonight! Have some treats with your fellow boss babes, Kirsty.”

  Kirsty smiled. “Only if Jacqueline will.”

  Jacqueline frowned. “You know I don’t do sugar,” she chided. “Morgan can have my dessert.”

  “It’s Meghan,” she softly interjected. “Meghan.”

  “Whatever,” Jacqueline replied. “Here, take this. It looks like a peach tart.”

  “Let’s all taste them together,” Kyrayah declared. “It will be more fun. One, two, three!”

  Kirsty, Meghan, and Kyrayah each took a small bite of the peach tarts. “This is HEAVENLY!” Kirsty exclaimed.

  “This is the best thing I have ever tasted,” Kyrayah agreed. “Meghan? What do you think? You are the baking expert.”

  She licked her lips. “It’s incredible,” she agreed. “I need to start looking into making some peach desserts! I feel inspired.”

  Kirsty laughed and playfully swatted Meghan on the shoulder. “You couldn’t possibly make something this good,” she teased as Meghan’s eyes widened. “This dessert was made by angels or something.”

  “Oh, come on,” Meghan replied good-naturedly. “I know I could come up with a good peach dessert. What if I made a honey bourbon cream to pour on top of it? Bourbon and peaches are a match made in Heaven.”

  “I don’t know,” Kirsty said. “I think a dessert of this caliber might be out of your reach, dear. Not to hurt your feelings, but it’s important to get critical feedback from like-minded women. Right, ladies?”

  Jacqueline and Kyrayah nodded. “Feedback is crucial,” Jacqueline agreed. “It’s how you get better.”

  “Maybe with some more training, you could make desserts like this,” Kyrayah suggested kindly. “Perhaps a cooking class or two?”

  Meghan’s smile faded. Kirsty’s silly jab had quickly offended her, and now she was suggesting to two of the most important, influential women Meghan had ever met that her desserts were lackluster. She struggled to remain composed as the ladies continued to chat.

  “Meghan? You look upset,” Kirsty noticed. “I was only teasing about the desserts. I’m sure you can make a fine peach tart.”

  “Of course,” she muttered as she stared down at her shoes. “Only teasing. No worries, Kirsty. No worries at all.”

  2

  Two days later, Meghan was back to work at the bakery. She was embarrassed to admit that Kirsty’s teasing had stung her so deeply, and while she had dozens of orders to attend to, she spent her first full day back in the kitchen working on peach tart recipes.

  “You know, we could use some help with the muffin orders,” Trudy, her loyal middle-aged employee grunted as she wandered into the kitchen. “Why are you so focused on those peach tarts? We don’t even have an order for peach tarts, and they’re hardly in season right now…”

  Meghan scowled. “I’m just trying to perfect a recipe,” she explained. “It’s a personal mission of mine to create the perfect peach tart. At the conference, they had these gorgeous peach desserts, and I want to make something even better.”

  “Whatever suits you,” Trudy sighed as she wandered back to the dining room. “Just don’t forget that we have a massive corporate order to fill soon. The Governor’s office called and wants another twelve dozen of our hazelnut waffle cookies. The assistant who called told me that they’ll be picking up the order first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Meghan sighed. She was frustrated with herself; she wished she could shake Kirsty’s comments, but her head was filled with the sarcastic, insulting words that had only been intended to be a joke.

  “Meghan?”

  Meghan looked up to see Pamela, the sixteen year old who worked for her part-time, staring at her in shock. “What’s wrong?”

  Pamela’s eyes were wide. “They’re here early, Meghan,” she whispered. “Trudy said they just walked in the front door.”

  “Who is here early?” she replied, raising an eyebrow and running a hand through her wavy hair. “I don’t think we’re expecting anyone for pickups today.”

  “The Governor’s assistant!” Pamela shrieked. “She said she wanted to check on the order. She said if it’s ready, she would prefer to take it today.”

  Meghan gasped. “It isn’t ready,” she muttered. “It isn’t even close. They aren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow, and they are here today?”

  Pamela shrugged. “I don’t know why they told us they would pick up the order tomorrow if they expected it today,” she said. “But the lady is here, and she wants to speak with you.”

  Meghan wiped her hands on the front of her apron. “I’m in no mood to deal with a persnickety customer,” she thought to herself as she tied her hair back into a loose braid. “Why do they think they can show up here and get their order early? Who does that?”

  Pamela dashed out of the kitchen, and Meghan followed her. A suited young woman stood in front of the counter. She was tapping her high heeled shoe impatiently, but she smiled politely as her eyes met Meghan’s. “I’m Mya, the new assistant with the Governor’s office,” she greeted.

  “Oh,” Meghan replied, unsure of how to respond. “Well, what can I do for you?”

  “I’m checking on that order of cookies,” Mya explained. “I work part-time as a real-estate agent, and part-time with the Governor’s office. Today, I’m driving through to do a showing on a house in Eastridge, and I thought I would stop by and check on those cookies. It’s on my way.”

  “I see. Well, the order was placed with the expectation that it would be finished by tomorrow,” Meghan explained. “I’m so, so sorry, but we have not completed it yet. It won’t be finished early. I am so sorry. I was out of town for a conference, and things have been a bit crazy.”

  Mya shrugged. “No problem,” she told Meghan, her eyes wandered to the kitchen door. “Say, what is that smell? It smells like peaches and cream oatmeal, my favorite!”

  Meghan grinned. “It’s a peach dessert I have been working on,” she explained. “It’s going to be delicious when I am done.”

  “Can I sneak a peak? Or a taste?”

  Meghan nodded. “That’s the least I can do,” she agreed. “You did drive all the way over here, so I can give you a sample.”

  “That would be so nice!”

  Meghan served her the sample. “What do you think?” she nervously inquired.

  “It’s amazing,” Mya told her, licking her lips. “You are the master of peach desserts! This is to die for.”

  Just then, Trudy burst through the kitchen doors. “Meghan! We finished the order early!” She ca
n take it to go.”

  Mya’s face lit up. “That is wonderful news,” she cried. “This saves me a long drive tomorrow. Thank you so much, Meghan.”

  Trudy gave the box of cookies to Mya, and she wandered out of the bakery. “Thank you for getting those finished,” Meghan sighed.

  “You need to get it together,” Trudy complained. “You have been so selfish with your time. We could have easily finished that order when it came in yesterday, but all you’ve been doing is playing around with those peach tarts. It’s ridiculous. You went to that conference and came back with your mind full of nonsense.”

  Meghan glared at Trudy. “Don’t talk to me like that, please,” she requested as she removed her apron. “I’m going upstairs and taking my break. If you need anything, you and Pamela can take care of it yourselves.”

  Meghan stormed out of the bakery and upstairs to her apartment. She sat down on the couch, and before she knew it, she was sound asleep. She awoke to her phone ringing a few minutes later. “Meghan? Get down here. That Mya character is back, and she doesn’t seem happy. We need you. What do you think you are doing, taking such a long break in the middle of the day.”

  “Oh no!” Meghan gasped as she looked down at her watch. She hadn’t been asleep for a few minutes. She had been asleep for a few hours.

  “What else could go wrong?” she grumbled as she tore through her apartment and raced downstairs to the bakery.

  3

  As Meghan tore down the narrow stairway and into the kitchen of the bakery, her phone rang again.

  “Trudy,” she grumbled as she reached to answer the call. “Can’t you wait ten seconds? I said I would be right down.”