Malice in Puzzle Land

Book 3: Alice Pepper Lonely Hearts and Puzzle Club Mystery

by Roz Noonan

Genres: Amateur Sleuth; Craft & Hobby Cozy Mysteries; Mystery

Synopsis

If her life were a puzzle, librarian Alice Pepper would be constantly adding pieces to it. Starting over after a divorce has opened up her world. Everyone in the small Oregon town that Alice calls home has something to add to the big picture. But the murder of one of their own leaves a gaping hole . . .

Alice is excited that the library is going to host its first-ever speed-puzzling competition—until time runs out on a prominent local woman. Glamorous realtor to the rich, Babe Kinkaid, is found floating in her own infinity pool. What police first suspect is an accident or medical crisis turns out to be a homicide when the autopsy reveals that Babe has been shot.

Babe’s complicated love life leaves no shortage of suspects—including two ex-husbands and a fiancé. Then there’s her family, complete with a spoiled daughter, a ne’er-do-well son, and an always overlooked sister. All of them have the same motive: Babe’s massive inheritance.  

Alice faces a ticking clock in this investigation. There are a lot of moving pieces, and before she can shake loose a killer, an explosion and disappearance throw the town into even more of a tumult. It’s up to Alice to click all the clues into place before those nearest and dearest to her become the next victims . . .

Release date: July 28, 2026

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 368

Sample

Blue sky was a killer.

Alice Pepper winced, scanning the puzzle pieces she’d rapidly spread on the table. The beginning of the puzzle had gone quickly, as she’d assembled the border and then built the castle with its windows and turrets and towers. The mountain terrain offered craggy stone cliffs, trees, flowers, and shrubs. Details, colors, and patterns could provide a multitude of clues to the puzzler, and she had a few clusters ready to insert. But blue sky, endless seas, blurs of leafy canopy—those monotonous one-color areas forced you to work harder. You had to switch to a different mode, shift focus from the puzzle art to details of individual pieces—their size, number of pegs and holes, overall shape.

Two dozen brilliant blue pieces of the sky stared up at her, bright and taunting. Too many to place quickly. Her face felt warm, her fingers awkward. She was losing time, falling down the rabbit hole. A square piece with two pegs took her nowhere. Here was a piece with a fat, slanted peg; hadn’t she seen a hole in that shape?

Sweat dampened her brow and her pulse surged as she struggled against the clock. Every second counted in speed puzzling.

Go, Alice. Go! She squeezed a four-holed piece between her fingers. Why was she stressing? This was a mock trial, a test to assist the organizers of the first Puzzle Land contest to be held at her library. Just a practice run. But the clock was ticking, and the urge to win was strong, and …

“Time’s up!” Charlie, the moderator, called cheerfully.

Sighs and hoots and scattered applause erupted from the dozen or so people in the room—all volunteers for the speed puzzling competition, the newest event to be held at Alice’s beloved West Hazel Library. Alice sank back in her chair with a mixture of relief and disappointment. At last, it was over.

There were two things Alice had learned in the trial. Charlie would make a fine moderator for the competition, and Alice would not be competing. A mere twenty minutes of the test trial had left her with an achy back and tense shoulders. Of course those aches and pains had originated long before today. The act of rescuing a friend from a sinking car had caused a few minor injuries that had led her to physical therapy. But still, it was easier to blame the aches on this tense competition.

“Let’s see how our contestants did.” Charlie Kinkaid’s dark brows rose with amplified interest as he gestured to the handful of puzzlers at various tables in the library’s event room. Although it was just a trial run, he exuded the delight and interest of a game show host ready to give away a million bucks. A tall, thin young man in his mid-twenties with a thick head of tumbling dark curls and a penchant for silk bowling-style shirts that hung on his spare, broad shoulders, Charlie was a veteran of these competitions. In fact, he had been the one to champion the speed puzzling event.

At some point in the organization process, Charlie and his sidekick, Bean, had become besties with Alice’s granddaughter Taylor, and the threesome had adopted the Puzzle Land Tournament as their cause. When they had approached Alice to pitch the event at the library, she’d been impressed by their enthusiasm, but daunted by their lack of organization. “Where’s your budget? You’ll need money to purchase puzzles for the competitors. Have you drawn up registration plans and rules?” Alice had asked.

“My mom would probably finance us if she can get some publicity out of it,” Charlie had offered. “She’s a Realtor, and she loves to see her photo splashed around town.”

Alice had assured him there were some funds available for library events through their Friends organization, and the registration fees would cover much of the cost. “But you need to finalize your budget.”

“Picky, picky,” Taylor had said, rolling her eyes.

Despite the flaws in the proposal, Alice couldn’t say no. She was a puzzle fan, with a kitchen table set not with silverware and plates but with an open box and a jigsaw puzzle in progress. Besides, speed puzzling was hot. Word from her librarian friends in Boston and Chicago was that puzzle races were a hit, and the events attracted folks of all ages from twenty-somethings to seniors. Alice was up for any ploy to lure Gen X, Y, and Z to the library. In her experience, folks who’d grown up scrolling on cell phones were often charmed into reading when they had access to free books.

“All right, puzzle fans, we have first-place winners in two categories during our thirty-minute trial.” Charlie gestured to two of the tables to the right of Alice. “Congratulations to Carrie Preston in the senior puzzling category, and Taylor Denham in our general puzzling.”

More applause, accompanied by hoots and whistles from Taylor and Bean, who rose from the tables and threw their arms around each other.

“Great job!” Bean told Taylor, cocking her bald head to one side so that one long silver earring brushed her shoulder. Alice didn’t know what Bean’s real name was, but the nickname fit the trim young woman with dark eyes, high cheekbones, forearms dark with tattoos, and a shiny shaved head that resembled a bean in the most exotic way possible. Bean was further evidence of Taylor’s ability to make friends everywhere, a gift that brought interesting young people passing through Alice’s rather buttoned-down life. “And you, too, Mrs. Preston,” Bean added. “You were amazing!”

Alice joined in applauding Carrie, a long-term acquaintance and friend of the library. A caretaker for her husband, Carrie had recently hired some in-home care to buy herself a few hours of relief each day. Since then, Alice was happy to see her spending time at the library a few days each week. “You made quick work of that one,” Alice agreed.

“It’s what I do every day.” Carrie waved off the praise and snapped open a flip phone. “Now I’ve got to take a photo, right? To prove that I finished it?”

“Exactly, right,” said Charlie, and he went on to explain that, during the contest, a photo of the puzzle would prove time of completion in the competition.

Alice smiled, impressed by Charlie’s smooth delivery of the rules. It looked as if Puzzle Land was in good hands.

As the others drew together to marvel over Carrie’s feat, Alice checked her cell phone for the time, fielded a few e-mails, and lobbed a text message to the library’s brilliant and essential manager, Julia. It was important for Alice to stay on schedule today with meetings and e-mails and phone calls and any other duties that needed tending by the town’s head librarian. She was hosting a dinner at home tonight—a small group of family and friends—and her daughter Lauren had promised to join in.

Lauren’s first official dinner at home after a long estrangement.

Alice wanted the meal to be scrumptious, the mood welcoming and warm. She needed Lauren to know that there was a place for her in Alice’s home. That she had an important place in her life. In her heart.

“How did it go?”

Alice looked up to find Bean and Taylor hunched over her table. “I struggled with the sky,” Alice admitted.

“You did well, Gran.” A curled strand of Taylor’s coppery-bronze hair slid over the table as she leaned in close to count the remaining puzzle pieces. Like many young women her age, twenty-two-year-old Taylor had stopped getting real haircuts years ago. Taylor’s choice, of course, though those mile-long hairs wreaked havoc on the vacuum at home. While Taylor’s twin sister, Madison, had her own apartment, Taylor lived in a tent pitched in one of Alice’s downstairs bedrooms. Squatting, Alice called it, thought she tried to accept her granddaughter’s hesitancy to launch with grace and humor. “Want me to tell you your speed? As in pieces per minute?”

“That’s okay. You can help someone else.” Alice tried to shoo her along.

“It’s fun, right?” asked Bean, so expressive, with her oval head and chocolate-brown eyes encircled with black liner. When Alice had met Bean just a few weeks ago, she’d been impressed with the part-time actress, part-time produce clerk’s courage to buck the Rapunzel trend.

“The time pressure was spine-tingling.” Alice tried to put a positive spin on the experience as she began to put the pieces back in the box. “But you know me. Puzzles are my meditation. I savor the process without racing against the clock.”

“Maybe you’d be happier on a team?” Taylor suggested. “We do teams of two, and I know Carrie is looking for a senior partner. Let’s ask her if—”

“I have to decline, dear,” Alice said firmly. “I’m representing the library, an event host. It’s best to remain neutral and available to oversee.”

“I agree with Alice.” Bean nodded. “Someone needs to be in charge. That’s why I’m moderating the team competition so that you and Charlie can compete as partners.”

“Still, you’re a skilled puzzler, Gran. You should cash in on that,” Taylor insisted.

“Need I remind you that there is no cash prize?” Alice teased. Though some tournaments gave out trophies, they were taking an ecofriendly approach. Just bragging rights. “If it’s any consolation, I think we have a duo coming from Hazel Gardens. Aunt Gildy and her friend Mitzy have been practicing.”

“Really? Aunt Gildy might just rock this competition.” Taylor slunk into a chair beside Alice as Charlie called for everyone’s attention once again.

“Just a few more final arrangements before we go. Our good friend Bean has created a fantastic piece of artwork for our Puzzle Land event.” He gestured to Bean, who lifted a poster bursting with bright color, an orange sign that read: NOW ENTERING PUZZLE LAND. Beside the sign, a contorted yellow clock appeared to be ringing wildly. All this against a purple background in which teal puzzle pieces were falling from the sky, floating in the air. The time, place, and details of the event were listed on assembled white puzzle pieces at the bottom. But looking closely, Alice began to make out illustrations on the falling pieces. The Queen of Hearts. A white rabbit. A smiling cat. The Mad Hatter.

“The Alice in Wonderland imagery is fabulous!” Alice had been given Lewis Carroll’s book as a child, and she’d always been intrigued by the wild characters. “Bravo, Bean.”

Bean’s smile warmed her face. “Thanks. We have a dozen copies, so if everyone could take one or two and put it up in your neighborhood? We’d like to build awareness, and we still have a few openings for puzzlers if people want to participate.”

Charlie went on to discuss the actual puzzles, which were ready for pickup at the Book Nook down the street—a task for Alice.

“As you know, our budget is limited.” Charlie clasped his hands together. “No money for trophies, but I’m going to make four floral arrangements to bestow upon the first-place winners. I recently started a floral business, and I’m happy to spread the cheer. Also, if any of you are hosting weddings, anniversaries, or mitzvahs, bar or bat, I’m your man!”

“Lovely!” Carrie said, amid resounding approval.

“What’s the prize for second place?” someone asked.

“A library card,” Alice suggested, evoking some laughter.

As Charlie went over the final arrangements, Alice felt a swell of pleasure at how the threesome had pulled the Puzzle Land Tournament together. She loved a success story! She wiggled her fingers at Taylor and slipped out the door to return to her duties.

Exiting the meeting room, she strolled through the children’s section, a colorful, inviting room with bright green-and-blue print carpeting and low-slung bookshelves for easy reach. The top of each shelf held an array of picture books, inviting temporary possession. “Hold me in your arms!” They cried for a momentary escape, a bedtime read with a grown-up.

With the eleven o’clock toddler story time beginning in a few minutes, Alice was glad to see small children pulling out books, some reading belly down on the floor, some monkeying around the lower shelves, grabbing at board books and making off with them.

The sight of toddlers accessing books made Alice’s heart sing.

Caretakers corralled the children, suggesting that they collect books to take home or read on the spot. She chatted with a few patrons as she passed through, then headed up the stairs.

Things seemed under control on the main floor, where a few of the self-checkout kiosks were occupied. At the main desk, Beto discussed lasagna recipes with a man wearing a leather biker jacket.

“One of my favorites is a white lasagna, with mushrooms, spinach, and lots of cheese,” Beto said.

“Sounds amazing,” the man said. “Where’d you find that?”

“It’s in one of the books you checked out …”

Able to find common ground with every reader, Beto enjoyed being positioned front and center at the main desk.

Alice continued up the wide stairs to the third floor, which housed nonfiction, rows of computers for public use, a quiet section, and a few glass-walled rooms for meetings. She had taken a turn into the rows housing books on the environment when her phone buzzed in her pocket.

It was her aunt, Gildy Goldberg, a woman of vast experience and strong opinions. Although Gildy had lived out west for decades, she still spoke with a New York accent, and she carried on the Jewish traditions of her husband, Norm, who’d been “gone for twenty years, may he rest in peace.” Alice adored her.

“Aunt Gildy, so good to hear from you,” Alice answered, enunciating carefully in case Gildy was having a hearing aid malfunction. “Looking forward to seeing you this evening.”

“Or sooner,” Gildy said. “I’m out on a little excursion right now, and I might need a ride home, if it’s not too much. I would Uber, but you know how tricky that is for me. It’s so distracting when they show you that diagram on your phone. You know the one with all the little cars tooling around on the map. I try to pick a car that looks close, but it never works for me.”

Alice let out a breath, recalling the half-dozen times she’d coached her aunt on the app, to no avail. “Of course I can pick you up.” Not a good day for such a time sucker, but when your octogenarian aunt needed a lift, you grabbed your keys and hit the road. Alice would take an early lunch, maybe pick up a few last-minute grocery items on the way back from Hazel Gardens. “Do you want me to come now? Where are you?”

“Ellery and I are in a big, beautiful house. Really gorgeous. Everything is top-shelf and brand-new! Soup to nuts!”

For a moment it seemed that Gildy was hallucinating, but then the mansion part made a little sense, as Gildy’s friend Ellery was the matriarch of a family fortune. “Must be fabulous, as you’re not easily impressed. What’s the address? I can’t wait to see it.”

“Yes, well”—Gildy’s voice dropped an octave—“you’re not going to like it now that everything’s been ruined. Once you see a dead body floating around, you can’t unsee it. Death is not an image you can easily shake.”

“Death?” Alice turned away from a little skull illustration on the spine of a book about toxins and tried to muffle her voice against a wall of magazines. “What body? What are you talking about?”

“A woman’s body, floating in the pool two stories down. Ellery and I can’t make it down there to save her, but it’s too late anyway. I know dead when I see it, and that lady is a goner.”

The prospect of death sweeping so near her aunt provoked a multitude of questions. Alice ducked behind a stack of engineering books—usually a dead section—and lowered her voice. “Are you safe there? Actually, you need to hang up right now and call nine-one-one. Get the police there.”

“We called them, doll. They’re on their way, along with an ambulance. Probably too late for that, though Ellery might need a few puffs of oxygen to get her through this. She thinks the dead woman is her niece, Babe.”

“How awful! What happened?”

“We don’t know. One minute Babe was up here, making us tea. Next thing you know, she went downstairs for something and didn’t come back. Took her a long time, and here we were, waiting on our tea. You know how I like my tea parties. So I took the bull by the horns. Ellery’s in a wheelchair now—not much she can do—but I got my walker. Babe had filled the teapot, using the Instahot thingy, and the tea had been steeping for a while. In my china teapot, by the way. I brought it from home, the cups, too. It’s a crime to drink tea out of paper cups. Terrible mouth feel. So I put the tray with cups on Ellery’s lap, and she wheeled herself out onto the balcony—a huge balcony, like in a restaurant where they put tables out? Then I made it out to the balcony with my walker and the teapot. I’ll tell you, that wasn’t easy.”

Alice’s pulse was beginning to accelerate as the crisis was masked by the extended details of the ladies’ tea party. “Aunt Gildy, what about Ellery’s niece? Baby?”

“Babe. She’s a big-shot Realtor, and she’s been trying to sell this place. That’s why we didn’t think much when she went downstairs to check something out. Once we had our tea, we kicked back a bit, not worried about Babe taking so long on account of her being in charge of the place and all. We figured she was doing Realtor stuff, talking on the phone or moving a chair to cover a stain in the rug. Realtor stuff.”

“I see.” Alice raked her silvery hair back with one hand. If she wasn’t completely gray yet, the tortured pace of this conversation would get her there. “So Babe’s body seems to be floating in the pool. A tea party gone awry.”

“That was the hook—the tea party—but I think the real reason she brought us here is that she wants to buy this place, and she needs Ellery’s money to close the deal. You see, Babe put some money into the house with the builder—Rob the Builder, they call him. Ellery says he’s Babe’s boyfriend. And now that the place isn’t flying off the market, Babe wants to buy it. Maybe cut the guy loose, maybe just have the house for herself. Who knows what her plan is? Or was. If that’s her body down there.”

“How tragic that her plans weren’t realized,” Alice said. “How is Ellery taking it?”

“She’s all shook up. I left her out on the balcony so I could call you and … you hear that? Sirens, I think. The cops.”

Alice breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good. You go meet them at the door. I’ll grab my keys and head out.” She checked the locator app on her phone and found Gildy at an address in Oregon City. “I’ve got you on Noir Lane, near the Gardenia Vineyard?”

“Overlooking the hills of grapes. We’re in a house on the new Serenity Circle, a real dream home.”

Funny how dreams could morph so quickly into nightmares.

Alice was already on her way downstairs, heading into her office to grab her bag. “I’m on my way.”

“I’m outta here,” Alice said, giving the library manager, Julia Abe, a quick update.

“I got you covered,” Julia called after her. Alice was about to flee through the glass doors when she had a second thought and darted downstairs to pluck Taylor from her friends.

In the car, Taylor waited for Alice to pull out of the parking lot before springing her question. “Okay, Batman. You dragged me out of there with a slim explanation but a strong sense of purpose. What evildoer is menacing the good people of Gotham City?”

“I’m not sure there’s any evil involved, but I won’t take chances when it comes to Aunt Gildy.” Alice explained about her aunt’s concerning call: a tea party in a Serenity Circle mansion. The disappearance of their host, Ellery’s niece Babe. Gildy and Ellery stuck two stories above a body floating in a pool.

“No, no, no, no. Gran, you know I can’t be around a dead body. Freaks me out.” Taylor covered her ears with her hands, as if to block out the bad vibes. “Some cultures believe unsettled spirits roam and try to attach themselves to nearby innocents. I can’t go.”

“We’ll keep you two stories away. You’ll be safe. And tell me, are you supposed to be the innocent?”

“Pure in mind and spirit,” Taylor insisted. “Stop the car and let me out. There’s a Starbucks up ahead. I’ll get an Uber.”

“But think of Aunt Gildy. She might need your help.”

“What could I do?”

“You’re observant. Curious. Sympathetic. She likes you.”

“And I love her, but—”

“Come for Gildy. I promise, I won’t send you down to scout the body. Besides, the police will probably keep us miles away.” The light turned green and Alice pressed on the gas, confident that it was too late to turn back now. “The police … We need to call your sister.” Taylor’s twin sister, Madison, was a rookie cop with the West Hazel Police. “See if she can meet us there.”

Taylor scrolled and tapped on her phone. “Okay, but I’m pretty sure today is her day off.”

“Tell her we need her.”

Within seconds, Taylor was talking with Madison, explaining the few details she had in hand. From her limited side of the conversation, Alice deduced that Madison could not get away from whatever she was doing. “Yes, the police were called. Okay. Okay. Cool. Thanks.”

“She’s on her way?”

Taylor shook her head. “She can’t come, but she’ll see us tonight at dinner with Mom. She said to remind you to let the police handle the situation. Your job is to look after Gildy.”

“Of course. My heart won’t rest till I know she’s okay.” Alice’s aunt was her number one priority, but who wouldn’t want to glean some information about a body floating in a pool on a quiet November afternoon? “You know I’ve been wanting to see these Serenity Circle houses. The vineyard setting is supposed to be lovely.”

“Meh.” Taylor crossed her arms. “As if the world needs more wine. I don’t like the sound of the place. I read some negative articles about this Serenity Circle,” Taylor said as Alice tried to drive quickly within legal limits. “It got some pushback from environmentalists who claim that the builders bulldozed a pristine valley and scarred the land with McMansions and asphalt and chemical fertilizers.”

“The age-old conflict between preservation and development,” Alice said, eyes on the road.

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t build houses in the world.” Taylor looked out the window, absently winding a strand of hair around one finger. “People have to live. But there are ways to build without taking a toll on the environment. New houses consume timber and steel and destroy natural habitats. They diminish air and water quality. The Serenity people would be smart to make their projects more ecoconscious.”

Her granddaughter, usually so passionate and vehement in her support of a cause, now realized the complex pros and cons of the argument. It was a sign of maturity in the young woman Alice had helped to raise over the past decade. “I agree, it’s a complicated issue,” Alice said.

“What is Serenity Circle, anyway?” Taylor asked. “It sounds like a cult.”

“It’s a poufed-up name for a small, high-end development of homes. They’re built in small batches each year, usually six or seven houses at a time, not always circles. A consortium of Oregon builders pool resources and build a group of fancy homes in a Portland suburb each year for promotional purposes. Each home is constructed by a different builder, and they rely on various architects, designers, landscapers to pull it all together for the big reveal in July, when the general public can buy tickets to tour the luxury homes. It’s a chance for people in the industry to have their work seen and gain exposure. Over the years your grandfather and I toured some of the Circles, and last year Ruby and I checked it out. Very swell.”

Ruby Milliner, Alice’s childhood friend, might have been the only person Alice knew who could cough up a million or two for a new home. Ruby had made her fortune through Ruby’s House of Wigs, a successful online business “Helping women around the world feel beautiful,” according to their motto.

“What did Ruby think?”

“Too big, and overdone, but many with lovely features. The houses had fireplaces inside and out. Outdoor water features and kitchens. Cooking islands large enough to pitch a tent on and sparkling quartz countertops. Cathedral ceilings and wine cellars and mini movie theaters.”

“What did you think, Gran?”

“Most of them too grand for me, with my modest taste in homes.”

“Right. You’re slumming in the house with ninety ensuite bedrooms.”

Alice chuckled. “I do love living in Alice’s Palace. It allows me to keep the people I love close,” she said with a pointed look at her granddaughter.

“Is that a push?” Taylor groaned. “I know, it’s time to launch. I’m pulling things together.”

“I’m grateful that you have a home base with me.”

“Pushing thirty and I live at home!”

“You are twenty-two; you’ve got time to figure things out. For now, try to enjoy. Not many people get to live in a house with three fabulous women.” Right now Taylor had the support of Alice, Alice’s younger sister Violet, and good friend Ruby. A trifecta of knowledge and experience.

“You’re all great,” Taylor said, “though I wouldn’t mind one housemate my age.”

The directions on Alice’s phone revealed a turn ahead into Gardenia Hills. At last. She was on edge, worrying over her aunt. “Here’s Serenity Circle.”

Taylor’s head swung back and forth, taking it all in as they entered through limestone gates reminiscent of a Tuscan farm. “Wow. Whoa.”

“Looks like they’re going with a Tuscan theme to go with the vineyard.”

“Kind of weird to put a vineyard smack in the middle of a neighborhood.” Taylor lifted her sunglasses. “Where are the grapes?”

Alice paused at a stop sign, noting the houses on the ridge road, the hill sloping down to a graceful valley, and the grapevines in the distance strung along the far slopes like rough stitching tethering the land in neat rows. “Over there, on the hills.”

“Hmm. Sort of like looking out over farmland.” Taylor frowned. “And that’s supposed to be romantic?”

“So they say.” Alice continued down the road, flashing a glance at her map app. Almost there.

“Look at that white house back there, like a stack of sugar cubes, straight out of Miami. These people must have beaucoup bucks.”

“I told you, pretty fancy.” Alice was trying to hug the curves of Noir Lane and not veer into a private driveway. The street had been built to meander like a country lane.

“And that house back there looks like a Tudor on steroids. It’s got a big fountain and a matching guest house. Gran, it’s like a movie set. This is the big time.”

“Indeed.” Alice followed the lane around a curve, where the shrubs thinned and gave way to a clear view down the hill to green fields, a pond, and a lodgelike building m. . .