Decaffeinated Scandal: A Cozy Mystery (A Killer Coffee Mystery Series) Read online

  Decaffeinated

  Scandal

  A Killer Coffee Mystery

  Book Five

  CONTENTS

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Afterwords

  Recipes Made and Served at The Bean Hive

  About the Author

  Also by Tonya Kappes

  Copyright

  One

  “It’s looking like you’re going to be ready after all.” I stood on the steps of The Cocoon Inn with one hand gripping a commercial coffee carafe and the other holding a to-go Bean Hive coffeehouse box filled with Lunch Lady Brownie Bars.

  “I’m not sure, but Camey sure is working me like crazy.” “I’m not sure there are enough hours in the day, but I’m doin’ my best.” Newton Oakley hunched over the flowerbed next to the front steps, digging up enough dirt to place an orange mum. Pepper, my curious little Schnauzer, was standing next to him, watching his every move.

  Newton sat back on his haunches, took his gloves off, and gave Pepper a few scratches under his salt and pepper beard.

  “I think we’re all working hard to make sure this year’s Neewollah Festival is the best yet.” The name of our three day fall festival – Halloween backwards – still did not roll off my tongue easily. It was something I was going to have to learn to say since making the small, quaint town of Honey Springs, Kentucky, my home. “You be sure you grab a cup of coffee this morning. It’s a new fall blend that I’m sure you’re going to love.”

  “I’ll have to come in and warm up after I get this row of mums planted.” He gestured over his shoulders at the orange, yellow, and red mums sitting in the leafy grass behind him, ready to be planted.

  “Good morning!” Camey Montgomery met me at the top of the steps. There was a plaid blanket draped over her forearm. “Let me throw this on the rocking chair and I’ll help you.”

  The sound of Camey’s voice made Pepper dart up the steps. My nosey little dog loved everyone, but he particularly loved Camey. She was the treat lady.

  “I’ve got it.” I protested, but she’d already put the blanket over one of the many white rocking chairs lining the large plantation porch.

  “Don’t be silly.” She pushed her long red hair over one shoulder and took the box from me. “I can’t risk you dropping my box of goodies,” she laughed and nodded towards the door.

  “Every time I walk in here, it still takes my breath away.” Pepper and I stepped into the white mansion, built circa 1841, that was situated right on Lake Honey Springs and I turned around to look out one of the floor to ceiling windows that offered guests a spectacular view.

  “Yeah. I’m so lucky,” she said, reaching into the bowl of dog treats she kept on the counter for the furry guests that accompanied their families.

  “Yes, you are.” I heard the familiar voice of Walker Peavler, Honey Springs’ most recent transplant.

  “Walker.” I couldn’t stop smiling while he and Camey embraced into a sweet kiss on the lips. “I’ve not seen you in a while, but I’ve seen Amelia. I can’t believe how she’s grown.”

  Walker had been a single man with custody of his granddaughter. He’d stolen Camey’s heart while staying at the Cocoon Inn. Since he had a sales job and traveled all the time, he could live anywhere. It truly was a perfect union. He and Camey were both in their fifties and Honey Springs was a fantastic place to raise a child. If you didn’t know their back story and saw Walker, Camey, and Amelia out and about around town, you’d never know that Amelia wasn’t Camey’s biological granddaughter. The only thing the three of them did not share was the same last name. Camey had decided to keep her last name when they got married due to her business and how much time it’d take to get all the documents changed.

  “Amelia sure is something special.” He leaned back and looked into the hospitality room. “She’s going to be late for school if she doesn’t hurry up.”

  “She’s eating her oatmeal. Run upstairs and grab her coat.” Camey shooed him off to their living quarters in the inn.

  I followed her into the hospitality room where I replaced the commercial coffee carafe with the new one. The focal point of the room was a large, beautiful fireplace directly across from the entryway. A few snaps and pops filled the room as the wood crackled in the fireplace, making the unseasonably cool morning cozy and the room very inviting.

  “Roxy! Pepper!” Amelia jumped up from a small café table and ran over to greet us. “Did you see my pumpkin?” She giggled as Pepper gave her a sweet kiss along her nose.

  “I didn’t, but I know without seeing it that it’s going to win the pumpkin carving contest.” I bent down and gave her a hug. Pepper demanded one too, so of course I gave him one.

  “Your granddaddy went to grab your coat, so you better eat up before you’re late to school.” Camey gave Amelia a scrub on the head with her fingertips, sending her back to the table. “She’s more excited about the pumpkins than her costume.”

  “To be a kid again.” I laughed and took the box of brownie bars from Camey. “I’ll get these arranged and then I’ve got to get back. I left Bunny alone.”

  “Oh, dear.” Camey and I both knew my senior citizen assistant, Bunny Bowowski, wasn’t the best person to leave alone. “I hope the Bean Hive is still standing when you get back.”

  Both of us laughed, me a little more nervously than her.

  “Let’s go, squirt.” Walker shook the lightweight coat with an extended arm, summoning Amelia.

  “Don’t forget to look at my pumpkin,” she reminded me as she darted past us. “Love you, mama,” she called to Camey. “Bye, Pepper.”

  “I love you too. Have a great day,” Camey called out to Amelia.

  “Come down to the coffeehouse later and I’ll let you take Pepper for a walk.” I waved goodbye.

  “I will,” Amelia said with a giggle and waved over her granddad as he lifted her in the air and placed her over his shoulder.

  “I’m so happy for you,” I said to Camey as I arranged the brownies on the three-tiered platter. “You look so happy and content.”

  “I am and I can’t wait for you to join us.” She peeked around my arm and reached for a brownie. “Have you and Patrick set a date yet?”

  “We have plans to meet that Justice of the Peace, Brandy Cliff.” The thought of marrying Patrick Cane sent a wave of joy through my body that I never thought I would experience.

  I had been married once before and it wasn’t pretty. I knew when he asked me to marry him something was off when I didn’t get the giggles and squeals. But with Patrick, I instantly knew the first time I saw him and that was when we were teens. Life went on and we ended up losing touch. Here we were eleven years later and happy as could be.

  “I told him it was fine for Brandy to perform the ceremony, like she did for you and Walker. I’ve gone through one marriage and another lifetime to get back to Honey Springs, so any way I become Roxanne Bloom Cane is perfect for me.” I smacked Camey’s hand away when she went for another brownie. “If you don’t stop, your customers aren’t going to get any.”

  “It’s crazy. I’ve been craving chocolate and I just can’t get enough of y
our fresh baked goodies.” She licked her lips and brushed her hands together. “I better get to work before I lose my customers.”

  “You’re not going to lose anyone. Not only do they love you, but you’re the only place for them to stay during the Neewollah Festival.” I picked up the empty coffee carafe and followed her out to the entrance.

  “Not from what I hear.” She shook her head with a frown on her face.

  “What did you hear?” Apparently, the gossip hadn’t gotten to me yet, which was unusual.

  “There’s been this guy snooping around the courthouse and PVA office about land near or on Honey Springs Lake. Asking about how the economy is each season.” She gnawed on the edge of her lip as she referred to the Property Valuation Administration office.

  “A guy?” I questioned. “There are a lot of tourists that come into the Bean Hive asking about our small town, but it was just chit-chat. I’d chalk it up to just being nosey.”

  Her brows pulled. “Some property along the lake over at the Bee Farm.”

  “The Bee Farm?” The more she talked, the more confused I got.

  “Ask around today,” she leaned over and whispered as a mom and dad and their little boy walked up to the check in desk.

  It wasn’t the whispering that made me want to call my mom right away, but the quick head nod Camey had gestured towards the family standing inside her inn. My mom was a local realtor, so maybe she’d heard.

  “Have a good day, Roxy,” Newton called as I hurried down the steps to get back to the coffeehouse. He’d only gotten a couple more mums planted.

  “Bye!” I yelled, with a ton of questions in my mind about the possibility of the Bee Farm selling its land. “Come on, Pepper.”

  Two

  “Why the long face?” asked Bunny as she waddled up to me at the bar top along the front of the Bean Hive.

  When I moved to Honey Springs after my divorce, Aunt Maxi decided I was going to open a coffeehouse since I had always loved coffee and all things related to the magical bean. I was lucky to find a prime location in the middle of the Lake Honey Springs boardwalk. The windows along the front of the shop were perfect for a long bar top with stools so customers could enjoy the amazing views Kentucky offered each season.

  “Don’t tell me you and Patrick are having issues.” There was concern in her voice.

  “No, not at all.” I held the warm mug of coffee between my hands, my elbows propped up on the bar. I barely swiveled the stool and glanced at her. “When I delivered the coffee and goodies for Camey’s hospitality room, she mentioned that the Bee Farm might be selling off some land.”

  “I’m not sure why that’d be on your mind.” Bunny used the edge of her apron to wipe down some of the bar.

  “The Bean Hive, the Cocoon Inn, the Bee’s Knees - all the shops in Honey Springs count on our abundance of bees. The Bee Farm is our primary tourist destination. Visitors love taking the ferry from the marina, spending the day learning about the bees, and getting fresh honey.” There was a pit of sadness in my stomach. “If the Bee Farm sells some of its land, what will happen to the bees?”

  “Well, I didn’t think about that.” Bunny unpinned the bobby pin she’d put next to her ear to keep her gray, chin-length bob out of her face and repositioned it. She also took the opportunity to adjust the shawl that she wore over her apron. “I reckon you’re gonna need to look into that.”

  “I guess.” Not that I could really do anything about it. If Andrew and Kayla Noro wanted to sell, they could sell. “But if they did sell, it would be a great place for a resort,” I murmured to myself as I took the last sip of coffee from the mug and glanced over the boardwalk and across the lake at the Bee Farm, which was an island in Lake Honey Springs.

  Sometimes it was nice to go to the marina and get ferried over for a late afternoon visit to the Bee Farm, tasting the samples or just hiking the nature trails.

  “I can’t worry about that right now.” I got off the stool and looked around the coffeehouse .

  The breakfast rush had come and gone. Soon we’d see the lunch crowd. Though we were a coffeehouse , I kept items on the menu to appeal to everyone.

  The Bean Hive was located in the middle of the boardwalk, right across from the pier. The exposed brick walls and wooden ceiling beams were already there when I’d decided to take Aunt Maxi up on her offer and rent the building from her.

  I wanted the coffeehouse to be as adorable as Wild and Whimsy Antiques, Walk In The Bark Pet Boutique, The Crooked Cat Bookstore, and the Buzz-in-and-out Diner, to name a few other shops along the boardwalk.

  I’d watched a few DIY videos on YouTube to learn how to make the coffeehouse exactly what I wanted. I couldn’t be more pleased with the shiplap wall I’d created out of plywood painted white.

  I’d bought the four large chalkboards that were hanging from the ceiling over the L-shaped glass countertop.

  The first chalkboard menu was over the pie counter and listed the pies and cookies with their prices. The second menu was above the tortes and quiches. The third menu, before the L-shaped counter curved, listed the breakfast casseroles and specialty drinks. The fourth and last chalkboard displayed lunch options and catering information.

  There was a coffee bar at one end of the counter and a tea bar at the opposite end. Both operated on the honor system.

  Customers who wanted regular, brewed coffee could fill their own mugs or cups and drop their payment in a mason jar I provided. I made sure to keep regular coffee and some specialty blends stocked and refreshed in commercial coffee carafes.

  The tea bar was the same, only I also provided antique teapots from Wild and Whimsy. There were different blends of tea in bags as well as glass jars of loose tea. All the honey was purchased from the Bee Farm and I sure didn’t want to have to buy products for the coffeehouse that weren’t local.

  “I’ve got to get lunch on.” The crackle of the fireplace caught my attention. I walked over to add a few more logs to last the rest of the afternoon and couldn’t resist the urge to fluff up the pillows made from coffee bean sacks that were scattered all over the couches.

  When I looked up, the slim tree I’d set up in the corner of the coffeehouse made me smile. It was covered with twinkling lights and a combination of fall and coffee-themed ornaments. There were even a few that resembled shops here on the boardwalk and the thought of someone from the outside building something here like Camey said made me sad.

  My heart sank when I looked at the cute honey pots from the Bee Farm. My eyes shifted to the café tables dotting the inside of the shop. They were decorated with fresh cut swamp sunflowers and garden mums in beautiful fall colors from Jean Hill’s garden in milk glass vases of all shapes and sizes from Wild and Whimsy. It was what a shop owner in a small town did - support the other shops in town - and the Bee Farm kept us in honey. I glanced across the lake at the island and blinked when a couple of tourists on rental bikes rode by along the boardwalk.

  “Earth to Roxy.” Bunny waved the dry broom handle in front of my face. “It’s almost time for dinner and you’ve still got the northern beans boiling.”

  “That’s right.” I snapped out of my thoughts. “I’m not going to get a thing done if I don’t stop this daydreaming.”

  Dinner around here was what most people referred to as lunch. Then we had supper, which most of the world called dinner. Southern was a way of life. You had to be born into it, not transplanted, and I wondered if this guy who was snooping around Honey Springs had realized this yet.

  “Come on, Pepper,” I called Pepper to come back to the kitchen with me while I took the beans off the stove and added celery, carrots, onions, and a bay leaf along with a nice big ham hock.

  It wasn’t too long before I heard a familiar voice screeching my name.

  “Rocks-ann, where are you?” Loretta Bebe pushed through the kitchen door with her pocketbook swinging from the crook of her arm. Her short hair was as black as the midnight sky and matched her brows.


  “Good Lord,” Aunt Maxi pushed through after her. “Low-retta, if you don’t stop going to the fake and bake, your skin is going to be the same color as the L’Oreal black excellence cream you keep pasting on that hair.”

  “Are you crazy, Maxine Bloom?” Loretta dug her glittery long nails into the edges of her hair. “This is natural and I’m Cherokee.” She tugged up the sleeve of her sweater and rotated her arm around so Aunt Maxi could take a gander at all sides. “Purebred Cherokee.”

  “Unless the fake and bake beds down at the salon are made by a company called Cherokee, then you ain’t real Cherokee.” Aunt Maxi wasn’t going to let it go.

  “Look at you.” Loretta did the unthinkable. She pointed at Aunt Maxi. “That hair of yours is all stuck up around your head like a bird’s nest.” She curled up on her tiptoes and tried to get a look at the top of Aunt Maxi’s head. “Are you deliverin’ a bird from the Pet Palace for Louise?”

  “Don’t you be goin’ and pointin’ no finger at me.” Aunt Maxi glared.

  “You two, it’s almost dinnertime and I’ve got to get this bean and ham soup done. I don’t have time to fuss with you.” I grabbed the white pepper and put a dash in each pot of soup. “What do y’all want?”

  “My, my.” Aunt Maxi drew her hand up to her chest. “Someone’s testy today.” She nudged Loretta with her elbow.

  “Seems to be.” Loretta and Aunt Maxi had now turned on me.

  “I guess I have a lot on my mind and I’ve got too many things to do without trying to cram my brain with you two.” I gestured my wooden spoon between them before I stirred each pot, combining all the ingredients.

  “What’s on your mind?” Loretta dragged one of the steel stools up to the kitchen’s island workstation, Aunt Maxi quickly doing the same. “We are all ears.”

  “Hold on.” Aunt Maxi took her coat off and hung it on one of the hooks. “I’m gonna grab us a coffee. I’ll be right back.”

  “While she’s gone, I wanted to make sure we were all set for the Halloween treats for the animals that you said you’d donate during the Neewollah Festival.” Low-retta - that’s how she pronounced her own name in a deep southern drawl - said.