Murder Turns the Page Read online

  Murder Turns the Page

  Rooftop Garden Cozy Mysteries, Book 8

  Thea Cambert

  Summer Prescott Books Publishing

  Copyright 2020 Summer Prescott Books

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying, or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.

  **This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Author’s Note

  Contact Summer Prescott Books Publishing

  Chapter 1

  Blue Valley, Tennessee, is a song in the early evening. That’s what Alice Maguire, who’d lived there all her life, thought as she stood at the railing of her rooftop garden and breathed in deeply the smells of summer.

  In the distance, the sun was sitting just above the outline of the Smoky Mountains that butted up against the horizon. Swaths of clouds had formed in such a way that visible rays of light shot up and out in all directions. Moving inward from the mountains were bands of trees—the spruce and fir, followed by birch and beech and maple, then pine, oak, and hickory. Then there were bushes of blueberries, huckleberries, and the myrtles and grape-scented mountain laurels.

  And finally, at the innermost circle, was the town of Blue Valley itself. Nestled along with a large lake into the valley—just far enough off the beaten path that not everyone found it, but those who were willing to venture a little further eventually stumbled upon it—it was the best place on earth. In Alice’s opinion, anyway.

  The rooftop garden, which overlooked a Main Street that was bustling this evening, was a true haven smack in the middle of town. When Alice had moved into the tiny apartment above her bookstore, The Paper Owl, almost nine years ago, she’d instantly fallen in love with the bookshelf-lined living room, the simple kitchen, the cozy bedroom . . . And when she’d stepped through the windowed French doors that led from the living room out onto the rooftop, she’d looked across the blank canvas of a space and visualized a garden.

  Shortly after Alice had moved in and started gradually purchasing plants and outdoor furniture, her best friend Franny, who had just opened her coffee shop, Joe’s, downstairs, moved into the apartment next door, and a year later, Owen James bought the bakery on the other side of The Paper Owl and named it Sourdough. Owen, too, was thrilled to have a living space above his business, and both he and Franny pitched in to transform the rooftop into a lush garden, with huge pots of fresh herbs, small trees, flowering vines that climbed over archways, and Alice’s signature twinkle lights strung around for a touch of cozy light in the evenings. The friends had added comfortable seating and a café table, a small fountain to attract birds, and a fire ring for chilly days. They loved nothing better than to meet in the garden in the early morning before heading downstairs to work—and then again in the evenings over a glass of wine after a long day.

  The Paper Owl, Joe’s, and Sourdough were all housed in the same large, historic building on Main Street. Like many of the other shops and restaurants in downtown Blue Valley, their building had started as one big business and through the years, had evolved and adapted, and now seemed quite perfect as three. There was a cased opening between The Paper Owl and Joe’s, and Alice and Franny were always gratified to see their customers wandering back and forth between the two businesses, sipping steaming cups of coffee and reading a new book or the day’s newspaper. It was not uncommon to see them settle into a seat at one of the little tables at the coffee shop or comfy chairs at the bookstore, open a paper sack from Sourdough, and pull out one of Owen’s famous sin-amon rolls or a freshly baked croissant.

  The three friends were thrilled that their individual businesses melded together so seamlessly. And the fact that they were neighbors to boot—well, that was the cherry on the top. Even more wonderful was the fact that the previous fall, Franny had married Alice’s brother, Blue Valley Police Captain Ben Maguire, and their first baby was due at any moment.

  To say that Ben was a concerned father-to-be was a vast understatement.

  “We’re staying in the apartment until the baby’s born,” Ben, who had just come out into the garden, announced. He took a seat in his usual Adirondack chair and Alice’s cat, Poppy, immediately jumped up into his lap and purred loudly.

  When Franny and Ben got married, they’d decided to split their time between Franny’s cozy apartment over Joe’s and Ben’s little house on the banks of Blue Lake. They’d loved both places too much to choose, and nowadays, generally stayed in town on weekends and during the many Main Street festivals and fairs, and stayed out at the lake during the week. The two locations were literally ten minutes apart, so were equally convenient.

  “Why?” asked Alice—although she was pretty sure she already knew the reason why.

  “Let me guess,” said Owen, setting a bakery box on the table. “Because this way, you know Franny will have round-the-clock surveillance.

  “Maybe it’s because of the closer proximity to Joe’s,” Luke Evans, head (and only) detective at the BVPD and Alice’s fiancé, ventured. “He plans to stay up all night every night until the baby’s born, and needs a ready source of extra caffeine.”

  Alice came to sit down beside Luke. “You’re all wrong,” she said, grinning at her brother. “We’re closer to the hospital here.”

  “What? Isn’t it about the same?” asked Luke with a chuckle.

  “How can you say that?” Ben asked. “The hospital is at the corner of Azalea and Phlox! I can see the roof from here!”

  All the streets in Blue Valley’s historic district were named for flowers that grow in the Smoky Mountains.

  “Yeah, but—”

  “There’s a difference of point-seven miles!”

  Owen scoffed. “Really, Luke. You dropped the ball on that one.”

  “Mock me if you will,” said Ben. “None of you are expecting a baby at any moment.”

  “But Franny is,” Alice said, pointing at Franny, who was happily sitting in her chair, sipping lemonade. “And she doesn’t look one bit worried.”

  “All I can say is, if this baby comes tonight, it won’t be too soon for me. I’m huge, I’m burning up, and I’m ready for little Oscar to come into the world.”

  “Oscar?” Owen jumped up. “So, it’s a boy?”

  “You mean little Sarah,” said Ben.

  “Sarah?” asked Alice. “So, you’re having a girl?”

  Franny giggled. “I’ve told you both a thousand times. We honestly don’t know. We’re going to be surprised right along with everyone else.”

  Indeed, Franny and Ben had chosen not to learn the baby’s gender in advance, saying they’d be equally happy no matter what, and that they were just thrilled to know that a new little soul would be coming into their lives. Together, they had decorated the nursery at the lake house accordingly, in beautiful, soothing, earthy neutrals, and the little apartment above the coffee shop now had a dedicated baby corner in the bedroom, with a crib, a mobile, and Alice’s contribution, a selection of board books that could be both rea
d and gnawed upon.

  “Hello? Anybody home?” a voice called from Alice’s apartment, where the French doors stood open to the July evening.

  “Out here, Helen!” Alice called, getting up to greet Helen Hart, head librarian at Blue Valley Public Library.

  Helen and Alice had been working hard over the past few months to prepare for a brand new Blue Valley event they were co-hosting: Midsummer Night’s Read. The festival would bring together authors—both published and aspiring—as well as readers, lovers of Shakespeare, agents, and publishers for two days of book-themed events. There would be classes, writers panels, an open-air book market, and chances for writers to meet one-on-one with authors to pitch their best ideas and get advice. The event would wrap up with a magical Shakespearean gala in the park where guests would dress up as their favorite characters from the Bard’s plays to mix, mingle, and dance the night away.

  Helen took a seat and accepted a glass of wine from Alice. Owen opened the bakery box to reveal a delicious selection of fruit-studded tarts.

  “I’ve been craving these!” said Franny, reaching for a raspberry tart and taking a huge bite.

  “I know,” said Owen. “You’ve been going through about a ten a week for a while now.”

  “All set for tomorrow, Helen?” Alice asked, taking a blueberry tart from the box.

  “All set,” said Helen. “That is, unless we’ve forgotten something.”

  “You haven’t,” said Owen. “Alice has been in charge of everything from Hometown Holidays to the Fall Festival to the Independence Day Celebration. She’s the hostess with the most-ess, and if she can’t think of anything you’ve forgotten, then you haven’t forgotten anything.”

  “Thank you for that vote of confidence, Owen,” said Alice. She reached into the messenger bag she’d slung over the back of her chair and heaved out a giant green binder.

  “Oh, gracious,” said Owen. “She’s taking out the binder.”

  Alice opened the binder to reveal neatly organized, color-coded sections. Pinned to the inside cover were two lists. There was the Before the Event list and the During the Event list—which was broken down by hours. Alice ran a finger down the Before the Event list, noting that every last item had been checked off.

  “We’re all set. Next in line is setting up the Bard’s Bookstop down on Main Street in the morning. The segment of Main that runs along this whole block will be closed off to traffic, so that people can walk and chat, browse the books, and grab food from the vendors.”

  “We’re going to raise so much money for the library!” said Helen.

  “A very worthy cause,” said Ben.

  “I love the library,” said Franny through a mouthful of tart.

  “And next,” Alice said, looking at her list and flipping to the correct section of her notebook, “we’ll need to welcome our esteemed author’s panel members and head over to the Community Center, where Blanche Miller will be giving the keynote address. I’ll present her with her gift there.”

  “Blanche Miller? Didn’t she write Gods of Zeus?” asked Luke.

  “Yep—among others. That one was her very first novel. An international bestseller,” said Alice. “She’s been on a winning streak ever since.”

  “What’s the gift?” asked Owen.

  “One of our custom-designed, commemorative Blue Valley Shakespeare busts,” said Alice.

  “How useful!” said Owen with a snicker.

  “Hey, those things are going to sell like hotcakes,” said Alice.

  “Hot cakes?” said Franny. “Yum.”

  “I’m going to be meeting one-on-one with Lawrence Spraggins for my author’s pitch,” said Owen.

  “Owen! I didn’t know you were a writer,” said Helen.

  “I’m writing a series of culinary mysteries,” said Owen. “I call them the Bakers Dozen Mysteries. There are going to be thirteen of them. The first book in the series is called Killer Kolache.”

  “Ooh, sounds tasty,” said Franny, taking a big bite of Ben’s strawberry tart.

  “Well, I think you’ll enjoy talking to Mr. Spraggins,” said Helen. “Of course, I don’t know him personally. But I love his work. He’s a genius.”

  “A poet and a novelist,” added Alice.

  “I hear he’s an eccentric,” said Owen.

  “Creative geniuses often are,” said Helen. “I heard him speak at the Nashville Writers Conference this past spring. I was so thrilled when he agreed to come to Blue Valley. He’s just exceptional in every way.”

  “We’ve got a whole group of amazing authors coming from the Chattanooga area, like Mr. Spraggins,” said Alice. “And tons more from around the state. Even a few nationally-known authors. I hear Sonia Blake, the poet, is going to be stopping in as well.”

  “So exciting!” said Helen. “Well, I’d better be going. Just wanted to touch base, Alice. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Thanks for coming by, Helen,” said Alice. “And don’t worry. We haven’t forgotten a thing.”

  Helen was gone with a smile and a wave.

  “Besotted,” said Alice, looking after her.

  “With who?” asked Franny.

  “Duh,” said Owen. “Weren’t you listening as she gushed over that Lawrence Spraggins? Didn’t you notice the dreamy look in her eyes?”

  “Well, sort of,” said Franny. “I was distracted because the baby kept kicking me in the ribcage.”

  “Oh, my gosh,” said Ben, putting a hand on Franny’s belly. “Are you sure that’s all it was? Are you experiencing a tightening sensation in your abdomen? Cramps? Back pain? Hold it. Does this mean the baby’s head is facing downward—as in, getting ready to be born?”

  Franny took both of Ben’s hands in hers. “My dearest,” she said, smiling at her husband. “I promise you, I will let you know when I go into labor. Doc Howard says everything is fine and we’re right on track. The baby’s fine. I’m fine. You relax and let’s all enjoy the weekend.”

  Ben swallowed and nodded, then kissed Franny on the cheek.

  “So, what other authors are coming to town for the event?” asked Luke, peering at Alice’s binder.

  “Phillip Bennet. Addy Bachman. Saladin Raeve.”

  “Saladin Raeve?” Ben said. “He wrote Apprentice of the North Wind! That’s one of my favorites!”

  “He’s written several best-selling fantasy epics,” said Alice, nodding. “He’ll be doing autographs at the Bard’s Bookstop during the weekend.”

  “Wow!”

  “And we’re all going to the gala Saturday night, right?” asked Luke.

  “Yep,” said Alice. “Hope you all have your costumes ready.”

  “I’m going as Robin Goodfellow,” said Owen.

  “Better known as Puck,” added Alice. “From A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

  “And then we have Granny’s wedding on Sunday afternoon,” said Ben. “This is going to be one crazy weekend.”

  Granny Maguire, Alice and Ben’s grandmother, had been happily married to their grandfather for forty-five years. After he’d passed away, Granny had hit the open road and spent about a decade seeing the world—only to come home and fall in love for a second time, with her dear old friend, Chester Lehman, the boy next door. Literally, Chester lived next door to Granny on Azalea Street. On New Year’s Day, with the whole family present, Chester had dropped to one knee and proposed and Granny had joyfully accepted.

  “It works out perfectly that the wedding reception is at the park,” said Alice. “We’re leaving up some of the decorations from the gala the night before. The ceremony will be at St. Helena’s, and then the whole town can stop by the park to wish the happy couple well.”

  “The whole town?” said Owen. “I’d better make a bigger cake.”

  “A bigger cake,” Franny repeated blissfully.

  “I’ll be taking notes,” said Alice, putting an arm around Luke.

  “That’s right. We’re getting married too, and we need all the help we can get.�
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  “I can’t wait to see the wedding binder,” said Owen with a giggle.

  Luke had lived in Blue Valley for just under two years. He owned a cabin on the lake just a short walk from Ben and Franny’s house. In the spring, Owen had bought the cottage just around the curve of the lake from Luke’s cabin, and the three friends got quite a kick out of the fact that their lake homes were arranged in the same order as their Main Street apartments. But, Alice always said that life is best spent near the ones you love the most, and she was tickled pink that they would all be neighbors forever. She was already looking forward to mornings down on the dock with Owen’s sin-amon rolls and Franny’s coffee—and one day, watching their children play together.

  “I’m sure our wedding planning will be nothing compared to your renovation planning,” said Alice, raising a brow at Owen.

  “How’s that going, by the way?” asked Franny. “Ben and I saw the roof going on when we were out for our morning walk yesterday.”

  “A standing seam metal roof,” said Owen, smiling proudly. “With a shed dormer and triple windows overlooking the lake from the second floor.”

  “You’ll be able to sit and listen to the rain on that roof,” said Alice.

  “I know,” said Owen with a satisfied sigh. “And we’re starting work on the back deck next week. I’ll be moving in come fall.”

  “We’ll have to fire up the grill and celebrate out by the water,” said Luke.

  “Grill . . .” said Franny. She looked at Ben. “I’m pretty sure the baby wants a hamburger.”

  Alice laughed and helped Franny up. “Let’s get this woman some dinner!”

  Chapter 2

  “So, this ring has been in Luke’s family for how many generations?” Franny asked, examining the ring on Alice’s left hand.