I stared around, horrified at the sight of my perfect little cottage in flames. Beyond the cottage was a man. I noticed the green hoodie first and then I saw the black mask.
“Jane,” I said. “Jane! See that guy…don’t look!”
Jane frowned at me and I said, “Show him to Simon!”
She simply pulled out her phone and called him. “Rose wants you to look behind you and see the guy in the green hoodie.”
I saw him tense at the words green hoodie. He didn’t ‘look’ though. His gaze met mine and he nodded at me once and then turned to Officer Marks—all without looking at the man. Officer Marks was pretty young and pretty fit. Simon had just come out of a fire and was coughing. Very casually, Officer Marks strode through two of the cottages and towards the man.
I blinked as Simon turned, very dramatically saw the green hoodie guy, and took off towards him. It took mere seconds for Green Hoodie to take off. And he went towards Nehalem Street as Simon had guessed. I walked to the end of my breathing tubes and stood on my toes. Green Hoodie went darting by and Officer Marks tackled him.
Simon came staggering after, but as Officer Marks handcuffed Green Hoodie, I looked beyond them and saw Shawn Robinette. She was standing in the trees on the other side of the cottages.
My gaze met hers, and I saw sheer hatred. I left the dogs with Jane and crossed to Simon.
“Shawn was here,” I said. “She left.”
“We’ll find her,” he said.
“You can’t do this,” Green Hoodie was shouting.
Simon ignored him, cupped my cheeks and laid a kiss on me that took away what little breath I had.
I coughed into his chest after a moment, and he wrapped his arms around me.
“Simon and Rosemary sitting in a tree,” Zee’s voice came from the side, not bothering to finish the chant when we turned to face her. “I guess Shawn was the killer.”
“Her and this fellow,” Simon said.
“You don’t have proof,” Green Hoodie shouted.
“Yet,” Simon replied flatly.
“Jenny has pictures of the group,” Zee replied.
Green Hoodie choked and then cursed.
Zee glanced at him and then said, “Az and I called Jenny and…persuaded her to help us. She said she didn’t have anything to do with the blackmailing, but Donna sent her a package recently with the instructions to not open it.”
I didn’t believe that for a second. Given Zee’s tone, she didn’t either. Simon just nodded and said, “Make sure she rests, Zee.”
“I’m right here,” I said, but there was a bit of a letdown post investigation. I was sure we had it, and that I was probably safe again, and that was what I needed to sleep.
“I want to go to the resort,” I told Zee, “I want room service and a massage.”
Simon handed me over, but Zee took me back to Jane rather than to the spa. It took a good 45 minutes and a long breathing treatment before Jane let me go.
“I’ll bring you meds later,” she said as she put me and the dogs into the car. I sat in the back, holding the dogs close.
“Thank goodness it’s over,” I told Zee.
“You’ll be taking time off. I’ve got an idea about staff.”
I didn’t even argue.
Chapter 15
I walked into the diner ten days later. They were a beautiful ten days with massages and soaks and a good amount of shopping given I had no possessions after my cottage burned to the ground. I paused when I arrived and glanced around. I was, of course, late. Because getting up at 5:00 am when I had been sleeping until noon was pretty hard.
Roxy smiled at me as I started taking off my scarf. The Christmas tree had been put up.
“Merry Christmas,” she said, her eyes shining, and I realized she was worried I was going to fire her.
“Hello,” I said brightly. Then I crossed to her and said, “This is The 2nd Chance Diner. Not just for me. But you too.”
Her lip trembled, and she nodded once, wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye and choked out, “Thank you.”
“My Rose,” Az called from the kitchen. “Simon said you couldn’t have pancakes until he arrived. We going light for him?”
I grinned but shook my head. “I made pecan pie pancakes for the special.”
“Well now,” I said, feeling bummed that I’d missed out on the debate over those and whatever else had been happening. “That does sound good.”
—THE END—
Thanks so much for reading my new story! I had so much fun writing it. If you enjoyed this story, I would be so grateful for a review. Reviews mean a lot to writers like me, as well as to readers.
Coming in December: Poison and Pie. When Zee and Rose go head to head at a pie competition, everyone knew there would be a loser, but no one expected a body!
The author, Beth Byers, also writes under the name Amanda A. Allen. Books and updates for both names are available through my newsletter If you’d like to sign up, click here.
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Also By Beth Byers
The 2nd Chance Diner Mysteries
Spaghetti, Meatballs, and Murder
The Brightwater Bay Mysteries
(co-written with Carolyn L. Dean and Angela Blackmoore)
A Little Taste of Murder (found in the Christmas boxset)
A Tiny Dash of Death
The Mystic Cove Mommy Mysteries
Bedtimes & Broomsticks
Runes & Roller Skates
Costumes and Cauldrons (found in the anthology Witch or Treat)
Banshees and Babysitters
Spellbooks and Sleepovers: A Mystic Cove Short Story
Hobgoblins and Homework
Gifts and Ghouls (found in the anthology Spells and Jinglebells)
Christmas and Curses (coming in November)
The Zinnia West 1950s Mysteries (co-written with Christina Hill)
Zinnia West & The Corpse Served Cold
Zinnia West & The Corpse Burnt Crisp
The Rue Hallow Mysteries
Hallow Graves
Hungry Graves
Lonely Graves
Sisters and Graves
Yule Graves
Fated Graves
Ruby Graves
The Inept Witches Mysteries (co-written with Auburn Seal)
Inconvenient Murder
Moonlight Murder
Bewitched Murder
Presidium Vignettes (with Rue Hallow)
Prague Murder
Paris Murder
Murder By Degrees
Curses of the Witch Queen
Fairy Tales Re-Imagined
Song of Sorrow: A Prelude to Rapunzel
Snow White
Kendawyn Paranormal Regency Romances
Compelled by Love
Bewildered by Love
Persuaded to Love
Other Novels
These Lying Eyes
Copyright © 2017 by Amanda A. Allen, Angela C Blackmoore and Carolyn L. Dean
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
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