The Mayor is a dog, B&B guests are fugitives, and the pancakes
are burnt.
Recipe For Murder
Pine Cove Mystery, #2
by Marla A. White
Genre: Cozy Mystery
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“Dang, woman. You want to take my
certification test for me?” She noticed with no small amount of satisfaction
that, although he’d done a decent job, she’d bested him. Again.
“You’ll do fine,” she teased as she
ejected the clip, put the gun down, and began to reload. Even with the EZ
loader she’d gotten as a birthday gift from her parents a few years ago, she
struggled to get the bullets in. Her father, an ex-cop himself, thought her
lack of dexterity was hilarious.
“Here, let me help you.” Gregg
closed the distance between them, standing so close she felt the heat of his
body. The tang of cordite, pine trees, and the summer blooms scattered around
the outdoor firing range tickled her nose, conspiring to make the moment sort
of romantic as his rough, calloused hands met hers. The thought sent a zing of
electricity through her that she couldn’t quite explain. Before this got any
weirder, she stepped away.
“Gah, I could hear the ‘little
lady’ part of that statement even without you saying it. I’ve got this, thanks
anyway.”
Rather than be offended, he
laughed. They continued practicing their firearm skills for another twenty
minutes until Gregg complained the sound of Mel’s stomach rumbling was loud
enough to be heard even through his protective ear gear. “It’s throwing off my
aim. Are you ready to call it a day?” She felt the heat rise to her cheeks in
embarrassment. “Pizza?”
“You haven’t by chance changed your
stance on the sushi spaghetti combo restaurant, have you?”
He laughed. “No way. You’re welcome
to a sausage caterpillar roll. It’s a hard pass for me. Besides, the pizza
joint carries Redrum beer.”
As they headed to his car, she
teased him. “You can’t fool me, you’re a secret wine lover. And you “know the
name for a type of sushi? I’m impressed.”
She slammed into him when he
suddenly stopped walking. He turned and glanced down at her, standing a good
six inches taller. There was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he put one
hand out to steady her, the other to her lips. “Shh, I have a reputation to
protect.”
For a moment, it looked like he was
going to move in to kiss her. For a moment, Mel wanted him to. But whatever
spark had been in his eyes wavered to uncertainty, and he ushered her to his
car without another word.
****
“You’d better hope your boss never
finds out you know all the words to that musical or he’ll insist on drug
testing you.” Mel laughed as Gregg opened the lobby door for her, still
murmuring away in a surprisingly pleasant singing voice. She didn’t normally
wait for any man to open a door, but her hands were full, holding the box of
pizza they’d gotten to bring back for the vultures she knew would be waiting
for her at the inn. He held the door with one hand, a bottle of wine they
planned on sharing while binging episodes of a British cop series they loved
gripped in the other.
As she expected, Gemma, Grandma,
and Poppy materialized from the great room at a speed that suggested they’d
been sitting near the window watching for their return. Their grim expressions,
however, made her stop short. “All right, out with it. Why are you three acting
so weird? We’re twenty feet inside the door, and there hasn’t been one smart
ass remark yet. Who died?” When no one answered, a cold dread bloomed in the
pit of her stomach. She might have dropped the pizza if Poppy hadn’t snatched
it out of her numb hands. “Seriously, is everyone okay? Did something happen?
Is it Liam?”
“No, Mel, it’s me,” a voice said
with a distinctly more pronounced Southern drawl than he’d had the last time
they spoke. An exhausted, pale, but determined Jackson emerged from the
shadows, rubbing at his temple as if to ease an ache. “I really need your
help.”
Relief, anger, hope, and about a
dozen other emotions Mel couldn’t identify came crashing down all at once. “I’m
going to need you to open that wine,” she told Gregg.
He twisted the top off with his
bare hand since their favorite brand of chardonnay didn’t use a “cork. “Done,”
he said as he handed her the chilled bottle, the outside damp with sweat.
She took a healthy gulp straight
out of the bottle before addressing Jackson. “All right, out with it. What do
you want, and it better be good after the bullshit you pulled on me.”
“There’s been a murder.”
Framed For Murder
Pine Cove Mystery, #1
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Marla White is an award-winning novelist who prefers killing people who annoy her on paper rather than in real life. Her first full-length mystery novel, “Cause for Elimination,” placed in several contests including Killer Nashville, The RONE Awards, The Reader’s Favorite, and finishing second in the Orange County Romance Writers for Romantic Suspense. Originally from Oklahoma, she lived in a lot of other states before settling down in Los Angeles to work in the television industry. She currently teaches at UCLA Extension and gives seminars about the art of script coverage. When she’s not working on the next book, she’s out in the garden, hiking, cheering on the LA Kings, or discovering new craft cocktails.
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