Frosty Blend (A Paramour Bay Cozy Paranormal Mystery Book 15) Read online

  Your optimism will be our downfall one of these days. You’ll regret it then, trust me. Did I mention that your mother threw a shoe at my head yesterday? She should be in your boyfriend’s jail cell for assault with a deadly, smelly object.

  “That’s because you were hurling insults at her regarding the rather unusual gift that she bought Beetle. And you know that Heidi had a meeting with a client outside of town this morning,” I replied as we entered through the grand entrance of town square. “She needed her car to drive there. Mine should be ready by this afternoon, if Newt can figure out what’s wrong with it. He’s just waiting on some test results. Apparently, it was leaking oil on top of the heater being out.”

  I’m pretty sure that’s not the only thing it leaks. It’s a death trap. I hate to break it to you, Raven—it’s time to give your old Corolla a proper burial. We could make a day of it and watch as they put it into one of those car crushers. I have some idea on what our new vehicle will be, but heated seats and a secret hiding cubby to stash some of my premium organic catnip is a must.

  The tension that had been building in my shoulders had finally eased as I found myself surrounded by traditional Christmas cheer. There were carolers singing holiday songs, an epic snowball battle about to commence, and a few early stragglers taking advantage of the small embattled hill for sledding. The food booths wouldn’t open up until around lunchtime, though I suppose that was less than an hour away. I even caught the delicious scent in the air from the vendors who had already fired up their stoves and fryers.

  It had taken me over an hour to teach Wilma how to work the cash register. Elsie had been too excited to concentrate for more than one minute, but my morning had definitely gotten away from me.

  I sure hope your renter’s insurance on the teashop is up-to-date. Knitting fires are a thing, you know. They just combust out of nowhere. It’s all that friction between the needles, I think.

  “Stop that,” I chastised softly now that we were around other people. I scanned the light crowd hoping to spot Liam. We’d only had time to exchange a few texts over the last few days, and I didn’t like that we hadn’t been able to spend time with one another. “I have enough on my plate as it is without you making things worse.”

  Well, you better scrape something off that plate and into the garbage to make room for something a little less entertaining. I accept that my vision might be fading from lack of blueberry-filled edibles and all of their delicious mental and physical antioxidants, but I can still recognize the horrifying visage of the Mistress of the Dark from a distance.

  Sure enough, my mother was standing smack dab in the middle of town square.

  It was as if I was staring at myself twenty years into the future. We both had long black hair, though hers was always swooped high up on her head as if she’d come straight out of a 1960s school of women’s hairstyles. Her high cheekbones and red lips were a staple, and I didn’t need to see the color of her eyes to know they were emerald green.

  “What on earth is she doing here?” I muttered in disbelief.

  That’s a good question that I don’t really want to know the answer to, Raven. Shall we continue on our way to the inn and ignore her completely? Those caterers might very well have taken my suggestion about sprinkling some pomegranate-infused catnip on top of the icing. The red would match the accents of the cake, you know.

  “I think you’re right about Mom,” I murmured, veering off our previous course to the inn so that I could take time to speak with her. “Something is really wrong, and we need to get to the bottom of it before she breaks Beetle’s heart by imploding. She was supposed to be having her massage this morning.”

  Don’t be the reason why I hack up a hairball in the middle of town square for everyone to see. The vision of your mother getting a massage is disturbing enough. I have to keep the common folk’s respect if they are to follow me upon the commencement of the squirrelpocalypse.

  My mother seemed to have been searching for someone specific, so she didn’t catch sight of Leo and I approaching as she turned on the high heels of her black boots. She never, ever went out into public looking anything less than impeccable. Her black wool coat didn’t have a speck of lint on it, and she didn’t look cold in the least.

  Don’t let that woman fool you, Raven. She’s got ice water running through her veins. I bet that she could keep an ice rink frozen in the middle of summer.

  Before I could call out to her, Mom began walking toward the other end of town square. She was clearly still looking for someone, but I couldn’t imagine who since I was taking care of the last-minute details. Seeing as I was already running late to pay the caterers who had driven in from New York City, five more minutes couldn’t hurt to find out what my mother was up to.

  Anything to do with your mother could end up biting us in the—

  I’d gone to reprimand Leo for where he was taking this discussion, obviously not having the time to deal with two individuals in my life who were irritable, when my winter boot must have encountered a slick spot. The random thought that flashed in my mind before I went flying through the air was that someone hadn’t yet fired up the heaters that had been strategically placed all around town square.

  Needless to say, I ended up face-planting into a snowman that had been built with the pile of snow that had been shoveled up and stacked away from the main area. Whoever had built him had done a fine and dandy job with packing the three major globes, so my landing wasn’t quite as soft as it could have been.

  I see your accident-prone tendencies are getting the best of you today.

  I blinked rapidly to try and clear the snow and ice from my eyelashes, only to find that Leo was staring down at me with that bulging left eye of his. I was flat out on my back, the snowman now in three separate parts rolling around next to me. I’m pretty sure that the poor fella’s hat was squashed underneath me somewhere.

  “Please tell me that no one saw me slip face first into a snowman,” I groaned in mortification, afraid to lift my head to find that someone had witnessed my ungraceful moment. I did, however, look to my left where I could see my mother still walking away without being any the wiser that she’d been spotted. “Where is she off to now?”

  Uh, Raven?

  I dragged my gaze back to Leo, who was no longer looking down at me.

  Instead, he was staring in horror to my left.

  I knew that tone of voice well, and he also always said my name in a guarded manner that told me our morning was about take a turn for the worse. Now that I’d caught my breath and could move, I quickly scrambled back using my winter boots and hands that were protectively cased in leather gloves.

  “Is that…”

  Yep.

  “Otis?” I called out tentatively, almost afraid to touch him. The older gentleman was sprawled out much like I had been, only there was a trickle of blood running sideways down his forehead. His eyes were closed, and I couldn’t tell if he was even breathing. “Oh, dear.”

  Look at what you’ve gone and done, Raven! This is all your fault, you know. Your inherent klutziness went and killed the former sheriff. I’m not going to jail for you, so we only have one choice—we bury the old fuddy-duddy in the snow and forget we ever found him!

  Chapter Two

  “Are you sure that Otis is okay?” I asked Liam for the tenth time in the last hour. “I mean, he was literally unconscious when Leo and I stumbled upon him.”

  You should have taken my advice, Raven. We could have already paid the caterer, met with the manager of the band, eaten lunch, and then been back at the teashop for my afternoon nap while you cleaned up whatever mess was made by those two old biddies minding the shop. Instead, we’re stuck in the middle of town square explaining how we just so happened to find the former sheriff mere moments from death. You’re lucky that we aren’t suspects by now.

  Leo wasn’t wrong on any of those accounts, but my errands would have to wait.

  Someone with ill-intentions had c
ome up behind Otis and hit him in the head…hard enough that he’d been knocked unconscious. Oddly enough, he still had his wallet and everything that had been inside of it.

  Had someone been trying to rob the former sheriff?

  Had it been a personal attack of revenge?

  Had the culprit been scared off when he or she thought someone had witnessed the assault?

  These are questions that I just cannot ponder on without my blueberry-filled edibles, Raven. You know this. I have been depleted of my mental antioxidants. Don’t judge. It’s a real thing. Mental antioxidants are all over the web. You can read all about them.

  “Otis is tough, even in his old age,” Liam replied with a small grin. He couldn’t erase the concern in his dark gaze as he turned his attention toward the man who was not only his mentor, but also the man who had taken Liam and his sister in after the death of their mother. “He volunteered to help with this year’s winter festival, so he was out here early to turn on the heaters. I took his statement, and he explained that he had been leaning over to turn the LP gas tank on when he caught glimpse of a shadow. He began to turn in response, and then he claims that he was blindsided from behind. It was technically the side of his head that took the brunt of the blow. Next thing he knew, he was waking up to find you standing over him and Leo practically trying to give him CPR.”

  We should have just buried him, and then we wouldn’t be in this situation. But noooo. You wouldn’t go for the easy plan.

  We both watched as Otis’ wife fussed over him as he went about turning on the rest of the heaters that would provide warmth for those who wanted to enjoy the holiday festivities today. The paramedics had already checked him out in the back of their ambulance, though he ignored their advice to be taken to the hospital to be checked out by a doctor.

  Most likely, Otis had suffered a mild concussion.

  The trickle of blood that I’d seen near his hairline had come from the cut on the side of his head. It had been small enough that it had only needed a little additional pressure to stop the bleeding. He hadn’t even needed stitches.

  Who would want to hurt Otis, though?

  We both know that I would have covered up this crime to save you, but might I point out that the good ol’ sheriff was re-elected for a reason. I say that we should leave him to do his job while we return to the teashop for my afternoon nap. I have no idea what time it is, but it’s obvious that I missed at least two sleep periods dealing with your civic conscience.

  “I think that Otis is so looking forward to officiating your mother’s wedding tomorrow that he doesn’t want anyone at the hospital to say that he should stay in bed for a few days,” Liam revealed, taking an empty cup that I’d been holding in my hands. He’d been sweet enough to bring me a cup of coffee from one of the booths. He tossed it into the trashcan that was set back from the bench that I currently occupied. “Speaking of the wedding, were you able to complete all of your errands this morning?”

  Do I have any blueberry-filled edibles?

  “No,” I answered both of them honestly with a grimace. I then glanced at Liam and motioned to the breast pocket of his jacket, hoping that he’d get the hint. He’d taken to carrying around a small packet of cat treats, though they didn’t contain any catnip. “I still have to drop off the check to the caterer, meet with the manager of the band, pick up the pearl comb that my mother ordered, and also stop in at the florist.”

  Liam had quickly reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out the treats.

  I guess they’ll have to do, but they won’t give me any mental antioxidants. Eating those treats are like drinking milk without any vitamin D, drinking orange juice without the vitamin C, or being a witch without the ability to cast spells. It’s a good thing that the good ol’ sheriff is taking the lead on this criminal act of violence, Raven. As soon as I eat these semi-delicious treats, we can be on our way.

  “Why don’t you go and take care of things then?” Liam suggested, turning slightly when Otis and Karen began to walk over our way. “Is your car still at Newt’s garage? You’re more than welcome to borrow the truck. I’ll let you know what I find out, but this investigation doesn’t lean toward…you know.”

  Oh, I know. I get the good ol’ sheriff’s rather obscure reference, Raven. I really do. No supernatural ties to this assault. I’m almost done, so get ready to walk to the inn by yourself. My only choice to get a restful nap is if I go home to the cottage, so that’s where I’ll be until later this afternoon. Did I mention that I created a grid map of the town to scope out Skippy and his ninja squirrel’s hibernation stash? It’s called a scatter diagram. I’ll start searching on Monday after this dreaded horror show is scheduled to happen tomorrow. It’ll give me something to look forward to while…

  Leo continued on and on about his so-called war with the neighborhood squirrels in between munching on his treats. By this time, Otis and Karen had made their way over to the bench. I quickly stood so that the former sheriff could take a seat.

  “Don’t be silly, Raven,” Otis replied with a frown at my attempt to help him. “I don’t need coddling, and I certainly don’t need to be fussed over like I’m some old fool. I’m fine.”

  “No one is coddling you, Otis,” Liam said, smoothing the former sheriff’s ruffled feathers. Liam began to seal up the bag of treats to put back in his pocket as he continued talking. “We’re just concerned, is all.”

  Who is this we that the good ol’ sheriff is talking about? The only thing I’m concerned about is my blueberry-filled edibles that haven’t been restocked in my stash. Again, this is all your mother’s fault. She’s got you and my VVBFF so tied up in knots about tomorrow’s ceremony that the two of you forgot to place the orders.

  “We wouldn’t need to be concerned if there were CCTV security cameras installed around town to protect against a crime like this,” Otis grumbled as Karen patted his arm. “I have a mind to go back over to the mayor’s office this afternoon. He gave his word that he would look into why the order wasn’t placed after the council’s vote was approved, but I’m beginning to think that he was blowing steam up our—”

  “Otis, dear,” Karen chastised with another reassuring pat on his arm. “You retired years ago, and Liam is more than capable of handling these things with the mayor. Why don’t we head home where I can make you a bowl of chicken noodle soup?”

  “I wanted to tell Liam what I remembered,” Otis grumbled as he squinted his eyes in determination. He then began to point his index finger toward the area behind him where he’d been attacked. “It doesn’t make any sense, but I’m almost positive that I heard someone mumble something pertaining to how he couldn’t allow me to go through with it. At the time, I thought it was a conversation between people walking by, but now I’m not so sure.”

  Raven, what are you doing? Put that glove back on right this minute!

  The moment that Otis had begun describing the last thing that he’d heard before being knocked unconscious, the palm of my hand began to tingle in warning.

  No, it didn’t. You are clearly mistaken. Now, put the glove back on.

  You see, I had this special ability where energy would gather in the palm of my right hand when there was danger present or there was something not quite right in my presence. I could only assume that what was said right before Otis was hit from behind had something to do with my uneasiness.

  Why would you go and assume something like that? Your hand could have simply fallen asleep and is experiencing those irritating pins and needles. Did you ever consider that option? You really should think of others before making such outlandish suppositions, Raven. I have the whole rest of my day planned, and you’re trying to throw a wrench into my nap schedule. Your mother was right in the area where the old fuddy-duddy was attacked, so don’t you think that she would—

  Leo had stopped talking right when more energy had begun to coil in my hand. He’d connected the odd sighting of my mother with the attack on Otis. All
I could say is that it was a good thing that he’d consumed all of his edibles that Liam had spread out on the bench, because he might have choked on one.

  Was Mom involved in the attack on Otis?

  You just had to go there, didn’t you?

  Her odd behavior this past week had certainly been indicative of something bothering her, and now I had to wonder if her irritability might have something to do with more than the average prewedding jitters of a bride.

  We’ve been over the old saying about curiosity killing the cat, right? Do we need to cover that particular topic again? I’m more than willing to point out that I most likely am on my last life here.

  Liam hadn’t missed the fact that I’d removed my glove. He wisely remained silent while Otis tried once more to recollect the moment before someone assaulted him in broad daylight. A stranger most definitely would have been spotted by the residents milling about the winter wonderland. Then again, there hadn’t been a lot of people out so early in the morning.

  Those are the smart ones…you know, staying in bed and out of anything resembling a crime.

  “Otis, I’m glad that you’re okay,” I said to him with a small smile of encouragement before turning my attention to Liam. I’d phrased my words in a way that he understood the underlying meaning behind them. “I’m going to run my errands before I check on the matter that you and I just discussed. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  Find out? Raven, you just can’t go making decisions like that without consulting me! What about my nap schedule?

  “Be careful,” Liam murmured right before he kissed me on the cheek. “Keep in close contact. I’ll leave the truck keys with Eileen just in case you need to use it today.”

  I began to walk through the winter wonderland that had been somewhat tarnished by the assault on Otis, but he wouldn’t want the festivities to be dampened for the other residents. I could still hear Liam asking Otis if he’d upset anyone lately, but every time a particular thought went through my mind…well, a massive amount of heat began to coil within the palm of my hand.