A Score to Kettle by Eryn Scott

 A Score to Kettle

A Score to Kettle by Eryn Scott (A Pebble Cove Teahouse Mystery #3)
English | 2020 | Mystery & Thriller | ePUB | 2.8 MB

Eryn Scott is the author of heartwarming cozy mysteries and quirky women’s fiction. Her novels feature close friendships and strong families because those are the most important things in her life — a little humor doesn’t hurt either.

Pebble Cove residents were wary of the new commune at The Pines even before someone ended up dead.
Rosemary is excited to cater her first even at the newly opened commune’s full moon festival. When a young woman is found murdered in her yurt, it’s clear these rich wannabe hippies aren’t as peaceful as they pretend.
As the investigation unfolds, Rosemary realizes these commune members have more secrets than they do trust funds. She can’t help but feel Chief Clemenson is, again, one step behind.
In addition to working the case, being at The Pines provides the perfect opportunity to investigate Asher’s death. Solving any mystery is difficult; solving one over a century old seems almost impossible. But just as Rosemary starts to make headway in both cases, a violent storm rolls in from the sea. Will the wind and rain wash away any hope of finding the murderer?

My business partner and friend would bring her own contribution to the full moon festival tonight. I’d tried one of her homemade moon pies and couldn’t wait to sample one of the delicate chamomile cakes she’d created for tonight’s festivities.

In the months since I’d begun working with her, Jolene and I had not only grown close, but our collaboration had also doubled our previous monthly profits.

Asher moved toward the window as I checked the boxes for the last few things on my list. His broad shoulders sank, and I tried to remember he wasn’t being difficult for nothing. The man had been through a lot—both in his life and afterlife.

“Look,” I said, “I promise I’ll tell you every detail when I come back tonight, safe and sound. I’m sure I’ll have funny stories about quirky yurt people and something concrete to add to the Van’s actually a nice guy list I’m making to convince you.”

Asher turned toward me. His face was set in disbelief, but there was a smile hiding behind those familiar blue eyes. I caught myself again—as I often did—forgetting he wasn’t real. His spirit was at its strongest here at his old house, so he appeared as real as anyone alive did to me. But if I reached out to touch him, my hand would waft right through.

I busied myself by tucking a few last-minute napkins into my catering supplies, not sure the stack I’d already packed would be enough. “I’m sure Van will show you how much the Mills family has changed over the years. Just because you didn’t get along with his great-grandfather doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with their genetics.”

When I glanced back at Asher, the lightness in his eyes had been surpassed by darkness, like a troubling cloud rolling in over stormy seas.

I was about to ask what that expression was about when the bells on the tea shop’s front door jangled, signaling a forced end to our conversation. Jolene must be here. While I’d shared a lot about myself and my past with my friend and business partner, I’d yet to tell anyone about my ability to see and talk to ghosts.

“Well then,” Asher said, running a hand through his almost black hair. “I’ll make myself scarce. Be safe, Rosemary.”

I mouthed a quick “thank you” to him. Asher knew that I had the tendency to slip and look at or talk to him regardless of who was in the room, forgetting that I was the only one who could see and hear him. Sometimes he removed himself so I wouldn’t be tempted.

“Hello,” Jolene trilled out as she entered. “You ready?” she asked as she reached the end of the entry hallway and laid eyes on me.

Her curly black hair was streaked with silver in such a beautiful way that it almost seemed like she’d colored it that way on purpose. She’d pulled her hair into a large clip today and wore a long skirt, a tie-dyed cardigan, and about six colorful scarves.

“You’ll fit right in.” I chuckled.

Jolene spun to give me the full effect. “When in a commune.”

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