8 Dead To The Last Drop Read online

  Dead to the

  Last Drop

  A Killer Coffee Mystery

  Book Eight

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Cover by Covervault, Mariah Sinclair. Edits by Red Adept Editing Services.

  Copyright © 2019 by Tonya Kappes. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information email [email protected] .

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Gayle Shanahan! Thank you so much for submitting your Pecan Ball cookie recipe to the annual Kappes Christmas Cookie exchange. I’m so excited to have it featured here at The Bean Hive.

  Also by Tonya Kappes

  Magical Cures Mystery Series

  A CHARMING CRIME

  A CHARMING CURE

  A CHARMING POTION (novella)

  A CHARMING WISH

  A CHARMING SPELL

  A CHARMING MAGIC

  A CHARMING SECRET

  A CHARMING CHRISTMAS (novella)

  A CHARMING FATALITY

  A CHARMING DEATH (novella)

  A CHARMING GHOST

  A CHARMING HEX

  A CHARMING VOODOO

  A CHARMING CORPSE

  A CHARMING MISFORTUNE

  A Camper and Criminals Cozy Mystery

  BEACHES, BUNGALOWS, & BURGLARIES

  DESERTS, DRIVERS, & DERELICTS

  FORESTS, FISHING, & FORGERY

  CHRISTMAS, CRIMINALS, & CAMPERS

  MOTORHOMES, MAPS, & MURDER

  CANYONS, CARAVANS, & CADAVERS

  HITCHES, HIDEOUTS, & HOMICIDE

  ASSAILANTS, ASPHALT, & ALIBIS

  VALLEYS, VEHICLES & VICTIMS

  SUNSETS, SABBATICAL, & SCANDAL

  A Southern Cake Baker Series

  (under the pen name of Maymee Bell)

  CAKE AND PUNISHMENT

  BATTER OFF DEAD

  A Ghostly Southern Mystery Series

  A GHOSTLY UNDERTAKING

  A GHOSTLY GRAVE

  A GHOSTLY DEMISE

  A GHOSTLY MURDER

  A GHOSTLY REUNION

  A GHOSTLY MORTALITY

  A GHOSTLY SECRET

  A GHOSTLY SUSPECT

  Killer Coffee Mystery Series

  SCENE OF THE GRIND

  MOCHA AND MURDER

  FRESHLY GROUND MURDER

  COLD BLOODED BREW

  DECAFFEINATED SCANDAL

  A KILLER LATTE

  HOLIDAY ROAST MORTEM

  DEAD TO THE LAST DROP

  Mail Carrier Cozy Mystery

  STAMPED OUT

  ADDRESSED FOR MURDER

  Kenni Lowry Mystery Series

  FIXIN’ TO DIE

  SOUTHERN FRIED

  AX TO GRIND

  SIX FEET UNDER

  DEAD AS A DOORNAIL

  TANGLED UP IN TINSEL

  DIGGIN’ UP DIRT

  Spies and Spells Mystery Series

  SPIES AND SPELLS

  BETTING OFF DEAD

  GET WITCH or DIE TRYING

  A Laurel London Mystery Series

  CHECKERED CRIME

  CHECKERED PAST

  CHECKERED THIEF

  A Divorced Diva Beading Mystery Series

  A BEAD OF DOUBT SHORT STORY

  STRUNG OUT TO DIE

  CRIMPED TO DEATH

  Olivia Davis Paranormal Mystery Series

  SPLITSVILLE.COM

  COLOR ME LOVE (novella)

  COLOR ME A CRIME

  CONTENTS

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  Recipes from The Bean Hive

  Also by Tonya Kappes

  About the Author

  ONE

  I liked nothing better than the smell of the freshly made coffees that brewed in the industrial coffee makers. The rich scent of my very own Peruvian roast curled around me like a warm blanket, and Pepper lay at my feet, warming them with his body heat.

  Who knew how much a sweet Schnauzer could warm not only my feet but my heart? I reached down and patted him on his sleepy head, but he didn’t move. The fireplace glowed with an orange flame and heated the Bean Hive to a perfect temperature for the customers who would arrive when we opened.

  The coffee makers beeped to let me know the coffee had been fully brewed, sounding like a wonderful melody. The sound was music to my ears and a signal to get up off the couch and put the breakfast treats in the oven so they’d be hot, fresh, and ready for anyone who needed a little sweet with their morning coffee.

  Pepper lifted his head to see what I was doing. “I better get those in the oven,” I told him. “It’s still coming down pretty good out there.”

  The entire front of the Bean Hive consisted of windows with a long counter-type bar in front of them. Behind the long bar stood stools for the customers who wanted to enjoy their coffee while taking in the magnificent view of Lake Honey Springs, the actual reason why Honey Springs, Kentucky, was a tourist town. Even in the winter.

  “So pretty,” I said with a sigh as I looked out at the freshly fallen snow down the pier and across the boardwalk. Then I turned to head back toward the kitchen of my coffee shop.

  Bunny Bowowski, my only full-time employee, would be here soon. We took turns opening, and today was my day, which I didn’t mind. I’d left my husband, Patrick, and our poodle, Sassy, at home and fast asleep, tucked into the warm bed.

  After I went to Pet Palace, our local no-kill shelter version of the SPCA, Pepper had adopted me as his human, and Sassy and Patrick came along later. That reminded me to keep my ears peeled for Louise Carlton, owner of Pet Palace. She said she had a new cat for me to showcase at the Bean Hive this week.

  I had gone through a lot of hoops to get the health department to even agree to let me showcase an animal from Pet Palace. Everyone deserved a loving home, and having an animal that needed a home here during the week was a perfect way for people to see how the animal acted and how they might fit together with that animal. I was proud to have been able to help all the animals I’d had in the coffee shop. They were all adopted out and living their best lives.

  Louise had already told me a little about the sweet feline, so I was excited to get her into the shop to give her some good loving. It was still a little too early for Louise to show up, but you never knew whether someone was going to be early or not. I certainly didn’t want her waiting outside in the snow with the cat.

  I dragged the coat rack sitting next to the counter and used the rack to prop open the swinging door connected to the coffee shop and the kitchen just so I could hear if anyone was knocking.

  The Bean Hive opened at six a.m. during the week and a little later on the weekends. There wasn’t an exact time I opened, but six a.m. was when we got up and moved around. During the winter months I didn’t open on Sundays, but I did come in to order and prepare the food for the upcoming week.

  We were technically a coffee shop, but I liked to make everyone feel welcome and at home. Coffee was great for that, but a little something for the belly was also good. Each week on the menu I had a breakfast item out
side of the usual donuts, scones, and muffins. I provided something like a quiche or breakfast-type casserole with a little more oomph for the hungrier customers. I offered a light lunch as well. These food items were the exact same for a week, so I made them in bulk on Sunday.

  The kitchen had a big workstation in the middle where I could mix, stir, add, cut, or do whatever I needed to do to get all the recipes made. Someone might look at it and call it a big kitchen island, but it was where all the magic happened. There was a huge walk-in freezer as well as a big refrigerator. I had several shelving units that held all the dry ingredients and a big pantry that stored many of the bags of coffee beans I’d ordered from all over the world. I liked to roast my own beans and make my own combinations, but the coffee shop had pretty much reached its capacity of what I could roast, and the small roaster was in much need of a bigger upgrade. However, I rented the space from my aunt Maxine Bloom, and there was no room to expand on the boardwalk where we were located. On my right was the Queen for the Day spa, and to the left of me was Knick Knacks, a little boutique store with a variety of items. Aunt Maxi didn’t own those, so expanding was pretty much out of the question because they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  Quickly I put the muffin tins in the oven to get them heated up and ready to put in the glass display counter. Then I grabbed the dry ingredients I needed to make the coffee soufflé, which would sell out so fast. Every time I made it, it was a hit. Of course it was amazing. Who didn’t like sugar, vanilla, and coffee?

  “One envelope unflavored gelatin, sugar, salt and vanilla,” I said to myself, plucking the items off the shelf as I found them. “Now for a little brewed coffee.” I grabbed the carafe out of the small pot of coffee I kept in the kitchen for me and put it on the workstation with the dry ingredients. Then I went to the refrigerator to grab the milk and eggs.

  Eggs didn’t really need to be refrigerated, but for some reason I refrigerated them. Everything in the coffee shop was prepared with the freshest of ingredients. If I could get it locally, I did. My honey came from the honey farm across the lake from the boardwalk. The vegetables and eggs came from Hill’s Orchard, and the coffee beans came from all over the world.

  “Hi do!” From the coffee shop, I heard the familiar greeting from my Aunt Maxi. “It’s me! Maxi!” she called out like I didn’t recognize her voice.

  But I knew she did it to let me know she wasn’t some random burglar. Aunt Maxi owned the building where my coffee shop was located, and she had a key. She showed up whenever she wanted.

  “Back here!” I hollered back just as I finished pouring the soufflé into a serving dish and putting it into the chiller to set. I had already made some earlier this morning, so I took those out of the chiller and was pleased with how they turned out.

  “Oh, coffee soufflé today?” Aunt Maxi walked into the kitchen. She wore a bright-red wool coat with big purple buttons.

  “Yes.” I couldn’t stop from smiling when I saw her.

  She also wore a pair of snow boots with her polyester brown pants tucked in. She tugged off the purple knit cap that matched the color of her hair.

  “What?” She used the tips of her fingers to lift her already-high hair in place.

  “Your hair. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it that purple.” I walked over and kissed her.

  “Honey, it’s a new year. New me.” She unbuttoned her coat and hung it up on the coat rack that continued to prop the kitchen door open. Her patchwork hobo bag hung across her body. She dug down deep in it to retrieve a big can of hair spray.

  “Seriously?” I asked. “My food,” I reminded her, but it didn’t stop her from spraying.

  “I’ve got an image to keep up now that I’m in the new play.” And that was why she was here.

  “Play?” I took the bait to hear all about her new adventure.

  Aunt Maxi was always getting into something. I always enjoyed hearing about them even if not all of them had come to be. She was the reason I moved to Honey Springs after my divorce.

  Aunt Maxi had always lived here, and when I was a little girl, my father would come to visit, bringing me with him. I loved being here so much I even started to spend my summers here. It wasn’t until I’d gone off to college, earned my law degree, gotten married to another lawyer, and opened a law firm with my spouse that I realized our client policy was to help all our clients in more than just law.

  Well… that was when I found my now-ex-husband, Kirk, doing counseling than was more than verbal, if you knew what I meant. It was then that I ran off into the arms of my aunt, who just so happened to have this space open while Honey Springs was in desperate need of a coffee shop.

  I was still a lawyer and kept my license up. Good thing, too, because I give out so much advice around here that I find it soothes my lawyer side. But coffee was my passion. I loved all things surrounding coffee, and gathering with friends for a little gossip just might be my favorite thing of all. Gossip happened all day long at the Bean Hive. So technically, working here didn’t feel like work to me.

  “Mmmhhhh. Didn’t you notice the new dowel rod flags on the lights around town?” she asked.

  Aunt Maxi was referring to the dowel rods on the carriage lights that were all over Honey Springs and the boardwalk. Every season or occasion, the beautification committee had special flags to hang on the rods. It was a special touch to add to our small southern lake town.

  “Well, I want you to know that Bunny Bowowski didn’t vote for them, and neither did Mae Belle Donovan.” She shrugged and curled her nose in disgust. “Low-retta Bebe is the producer of this year’s local theater.”

  Aunt Maxi didn’t have to say any more than that. I knew this conversation would need a cup of coffee.

  “Grab those muffins and the stack of cookies,” I told her. I grabbed the soufflés and the serving tray of mini breakfast quiches I’d made. The pastries were all ready to go in the display case “While we fill the display case, you can tell me all about it.”

  When both of us were through the door, I put down the items in my hand and moved the coat tree back. Turning back around to look at the inside of the coffee shop, I gasped at the beauty of the coffee shop.

  “I’ll tell you after I go to the bathroom.” Aunt Maxi headed there.

  Even though Aunt Maxi owned the building, she didn’t give me a cut on the rent. I didn’t expect her to since it was part of her income. Rent was a little steep, but I’d watched a few DIY videos on YouTube to figure out how to make the necessary repairs for inspection when I first decided to open the coffee shop. I couldn’t’ve been more pleased with the shiplap wall, which I’d created myself out of plywood and painted white so it would look like real shiplap.

  Instead of investing in a fancy menu or even menu boards that attached to the wall, I’d bought four large chalkboards that hung down from the ceiling over the L-shaped glass countertop.

  The first chalkboard menu hung over the pie counter and listed the pies and cookies with their prices. The second menu hung over the tortes and quiches. The third menu over the L-shaped counter curved listed the breakfast casseroles and drinks. Above the other counter, the chalkboard listed lunch options, including soups, as well as catering information.

  On each side of the counter was a drink stand. One was a coffee bar with six industrial thermoses containing different blends of my specialty coffees as well as one filled with a decaffeinated blend, even though I never clearly understood the concept of that. But Aunt Maxi made sure I understood some people drank only the unleaded stuff. The coffee bar had everything you needed to take a coffee with you, even an honor system that let you pay and go.

  The drink bar on the opposite end of the counter was a tea bar. Hot tea, cold tea. There was a nice selection of gourmet teas and loose-leaf teas along with cold teas. I’d even gotten a few antique tea pots from the Wild and Whimsy Antique Shop, which happened to be the first shop on the boardwalk. If a customer came in and wanted a pot of hot tea, I could fix it
for them, or they could fix their own to their taste.

  A few café tables dotted the inside, as did two long window tables that had stools butted up to them on each side of the front door. It was a perfect spot to sit, enjoy the beautiful Lake Honey Springs, and sip on your favorite beverage. It was actually my favorite spot, and today would be a gorgeous view of the frozen lake with all the fresh snow lying on top.

  “Burrrrr. It’s cold.” Bunny Bowowski walked through the door, flipping the sign to Open. “Me and Floyd enjoyed your soufflé so much last night.” She loved talking about her new relationship with Floyd.

  Bunny’s little brown coat had great big buttons up the front, and her pillbox hat matched it perfectly. The brown pocketbook hung from the crease of her arm and swung back and forth as she made her way back to the coffee bar. There, she’d grab a coffee before she hung up her coat and put on her apron.

  “Did you notice the new lamppost flags?” she asked and waddled back over to the coat tree. Slowly she unbuttoned her coat and hung her purse and her coat on the coat tree. The sound of the water running in the bathroom caught her attention. “What was that?”

  “Aunt Maxi is here, so maybe you shouldn’t talk about the flags,” I suggested, since they were probably talking about the same thing and clearly on opposite sides of whatever it was they spoke of. If it was no big deal to either of them, neither would’ve brought it up.

  “Good thing she’s here. I’m gonna give her a piece of my mind.” Bunny brought the mug up to take a sip.

  “Were you flapping your lips about me?” Aunt Maxi stood, glaring at Bunny with her fists on her hips. Her purple hair glistened in the light of the coffee shop.

  “What are you doing here so early?” Bunny gave Aunt Maxi the once-over. “You trying to get to Roxy before me, huh?”

  “Listen, we are open, and I don’t have time for all of this.” I looked between the two of them.

  “Did you not see that snow out there?” Bunny asked. “It took Floyd almost an hour to get me here.”