Chapter One
“A pinch of pumpkin spice,” I said, fully aware Pepper’s eyes were locked on me as I stuck my fingers into the small ceramic spice bowl. Slowly, I closed my finger and thumb, pinched the pumpkin spice, and tossed it into the roaster. “And now a pinch of cinnamon.”
Out of my peripheral vision, I caught Pepper’s dark eyes getting bigger as my hand moved from the coffee roaster to the little cinnamon bowl sitting on the butcher-block counter. He had no interest in my handling of the coffee beans or the cinnamon, or anything else I was doing at my small roasting station.
His attention was aimed directly at the wire cooling rack sitting three feet away.
I reached over and turned the dial on the countertop coffee roaster.
Pepper jumped to his feet.
“They aren’t cooled yet,” I told him.
The small roaster had become one of my favorite things in the Bean Hive. The piece of equipment wasn’t nearly the size of the commercial roaster in the back kitchen of my coffee shop, but this one was perfect for testing new blends without having to commit to an entire industrial batch.
Over the summer, Patrick had installed the small roaster on the counter next to the frappé machine. I’d originally wanted that roaster because I was forever running back and forth to the larger one whenever we ran low on a specialty blend.
Then something unexpected happened.
My employees started using it all on their own. They didn’t ask me if I thought their concoction would be good or if the ingredients would work together. They just started to test and experiment. I loved that so much.
Kelly Sparks, a young employee, really did outshine the others. She discovered that she loved experimenting with coffee almost as much as I did. And one of her blends ended up on this year’s fall menu.
The small roaster was like a little coffee lab right there on the counter.
A floating shelf sat above the counter roaster, bearing mason jars filled with green coffee beans, small bowls of spices, my coffee journal, a digital scale, and measuring spoons.
The roaster gave a low mechanical whir as the drum turned slowly. I leaned closer and checked the beans through the little viewing window, waiting for them to reach the color I wanted before I added anything else.
This particular batch was going to become the first official Pumpkin Spice Roast of the season at the Bean Hive, and I wanted it perfect.
Not fake-pumpkin perfect but real-fall-cozy-morning-in-Kentucky perfect.
“Hmmm,” I muttered and reached for the bowl of nutmeg. “Maybe a little nutmeg.”
Pepper’s head moved with my hand.
“You have no idea what I’m doing, but you do know there’s something amazing and delicious just for you up here,” I said and glanced down at my salt-and-pepper schnauzer.
His eyebrows rose.
“Fine,” I said and moved my hand closer to the wire cooling rack I’d placed on the counter next to me.
Pepper jumped to all fours, his tail wagging so fast that he made me giggle.
“I think they are cooled now,” I told him and picked up one of the homemade pumpkin dog treats. It was cool to the touch and still a little soft, which was when Pepper loved them best.
I’d used pumpkin puree, oats, an egg, and just enough flour to hold everything together before cutting the batter into tiny pumpkin shapes. If they were Pepper approved, they were Bean Hive approved.
“You get the first one of the season,” I said and bent down to give him one.
Before Pepper took the treat from me, a thump sounded from across the coffee shop. I didn’t have to look to know the sound of nails ticking on hardwood floors was Sassy. She’d been fast asleep on one of the couches near the fireplace. She was not a fan of coming to work with me when Patrick couldn’t take her to the construction office.
“You too, Sassy,” I called and stood up to get another one.
The black standard poodle flew around the coffee bar and made a perfect landing directly at my feet. She sat immediately, though her eyes stayed on the pumpkin treat in my hand.
“I know, girl. Waking up and going to work at four thirty a.m. is not fun,” I said in my best baby voice as I talked to her and ran my hand over the top of her head.
My fingers slid across the orange hair bow clipped neatly between her ears. Tiny pumpkin spice cups covered the ribbon, complete with little white swirls on top that were supposed to look like whipped cream. The hair decorations were compliments of Morgan Keys, the owner of the Walk in the Bark pet boutique.
“Sassy Cane,” I whispered before bending closer to inspect the bow. “You are going to be the belle of the coffee shop this morning.” I wiped my hands down my apron. “Speaking of, I’ve got to get a move on if we are going to open.”
And by “move on,” I meant enjoying the only full cup of coffee I was going to get after we turned the sign over to Open.
I watched the two dogs gobble up their treats while I poured myself a cup of coffee from the new batch.
This was the real test.
If the blend tasted as good as it smelled, I’d make a larger batch in the industrial roaster later this morning when Bunny Bowowski and Birdie Bebe arrived for work.
It was an experience for me too. I loved to romanticize when drinking the first sip of something I’d created. The idea of it made the experience so much more special.
“And you two can eat while I go sit by the window,” I told the dogs. Their food was in a plastic container under the counter along with a couple of stacked bowls. Since I was able to bring them into the coffee shop, not the kitchen, I made sure they, too, had the comforts of home.
For Pepper and Sassy, those comforts were couches, food, treats, and enough people willing to spoil them rotten.
“There you go,” I said and put their bowls on the floor on the other side of the counter. I picked up my mug and carried it over to the long bar built across the window of the coffee shop.
To me, those stools were the best seats in the house. I sat on one and looked down at my mug. I ran my finger over the Bean Hive logo on it and smiled.
“We have come a long way,” I said quietly.
I lifted the mug toward my lips and looked across the pier and over Lake Honey Springs. The sun hadn’t risen above the island in the middle of the lake yet, but the darkness was beginning to soften. A thin orange line stretched behind the trees, barely visible through the low layers of mist resting over the water.
The lake was almost perfectly still.
As the morning light grew, the trees along the shoreline came slowly into view. Fiery reds, deep auburns, rusty oranges, and bright yellows covered the hillsides around the lake. Their colors reflected across the dark water in broken ribbons that shifted whenever the lake moved.
This was leaf-peeping season in Honey Springs, and this week specifically was the peak week, which meant lots of tourists came to the town.
Soon Big Bib’s ferry would cut across the lake, taking visitors over to the Bee Farm. I needed to make a trip there today to buy more honey from Kayla and Andrew Noro.
Kelly Spark’s Leaf-Peeping Latte had been such a hit last week that we were going through honey faster than I’d expected. Who knew a little honey, cinnamon, espresso, and steamed milk would become the favorite drink around here?
“Are you worthy of a big batch?” I asked the liquid and took my first sip. The Pumpkin Spice Roast sat on my tongue for a moment. I tasted pumpkin then cinnamon then just enough nutmeg that made it rich enough without the spices taking over. “Oh, yeah. You are deserving.”
I held the mug between my hands. Very satisfied, I turned to look back at the orange line that had widened along the horizon. Soon it would turn to pink, then a lighter blue, and finally, the sun would rise over the island and wake everyone up. I wouldn’t get to see all of that because I would definitely be knee-deep in helping my regulars before they went to work.
This was my favorite time of the year.
The rattle of a key in the door caused me to turn my head.
“What are you daydreaming about now?” Bunny Bowowski asked as she flipped the sign to Open. Pepper and Sassy ran from the back of the coffee shop to greet their favorite human outside of Patrick and me. “I even walked by you and waved into the window. You were off somewhere in your own little world.”
At least, Bunny would be their favorite until my aunt Maxi came. Both of the women spoiled the dogs.
“I was just thinking about how gorgeous it was going to look in a few minutes when the sun pops up—and how amazing this new blend tastes,” I said before sighing and getting up from the stool.
Bunny waddled deeper into the coffee shop, and I followed her. Her brown pocketbook was tucked in the crook of one arm. Her silver-gray chin-length bob peeked out from beneath her little pillbox hat, while her reading rhinestone glasses dangled from a chain around her neck, and a hand-knitted shawl covered the housedress she wore underneath.
The bell over the door dinged, signaling our first customer.
“I’m so glad you are here,” Caspian Blackwood’s deep voice called out.
I looked back over my shoulder to find him hurrying inside. Dry leaves skittered in before the door shut.
“I’ll go get the broom,” Bunny said and disappeared through the swinging door between the kitchen and the coffee shop. “Every year, we have this same problem with those darn leaves.”
“Good morning,” I said and ignored Bunny. It was too early for me to hear any complaints. “Did we have a meeting this morning?” I asked and walked over to the small calendar I kept on the counter.
Caspian Blackwood was a tall, lean man with an athletic build that he must’ve been able to keep all of his life. He was well into his fifties. Well, maybe the maintaining of his physique was attributable to his very young, fit wife. Who was I to judge?
Caspian’s company, Blackwood Associates, had bought Aunt Maxi’s lakefront property and turned it into the new Honey Springs Country Club. Cane Construction had done the work, which meant Patrick had spent more time with Caspian than I ever had.
At the country club, Caspian was hosting a fall retreat, specifically during the peak week for leaf-peeping, for his vendors and employees, which was why I was creating a new blend in the small roaster.
“I haven’t gotten your final blend yet for the retreat, but I really think I might’ve hit on something this morning,” I said and turned to get a mug. Bunny came back through the kitchen door with the broom.
“I can pour you a cup if you want,” I told Caspian.
“I’m not here for that,” he said. “I’m sorry, Bunny. I can get that.”
“Don’t bother now that I went and got the broom,” she harrumphed and waddled over to the front door. We couldn’t win this battle during fall. And it was okay with me. It added to the cozy season, which happened to be my favorite.
“I’m sure what you come up with is fine,” he said. “You can run it by Victoria. I need something else from you,” Caspian said.
“Sure.” I rested one hand against the edge of the counter and waited. My first thought was that he was about to ask me to provide some sort of pastry to go with the coffee.
“From our past history, I know you have a keen sense of snooping,” Caspian said and shook his head. He slipped his hand inside of his jacket and kept his eyes on me.
“I prefer to be called ‘observant,’” I said and folded my arms over my apron.
He didn’t even smile at that. He pulled a folded sheet of paper from inside his jacket.
“I need you to find out who has been getting into my office,” he said and slipped a grainy photo across the counter toward me. The dark figure stood near the office doorway with their head lowered and one hand near the door. “I got it from my security camera.”
I picked up the photograph to get a better look, but the image didn’t become any clearer. There wasn’t enough detail to even make out if the figure was a man or woman.
“Someone breaking into the offices at the country club,” Caspian said. He tapped his finger against one corner of the photograph. “This time, they broke into my office.
“I ignored it the first couple of times because I thought someone had just gotten into the wrong building. The country club has a lot of employees.” Caspian’s voice was firm. “It’s my private office. I don’t like that.”
“Have you called Spencer?” I asked.
He shook his head.
Sheriff Spencer Shepard would’ve been the first person I called if someone had broken into the Bean Hive. Granted, I might’ve snooped around for clues before he got there, but I’d still call.
“Caspian, breaking into your office seems a lot more serious than hiring your coffee lady to look into it,” I told him.
“I don’t want the sheriff in my business unless it’s the last resort,” he said.
“But you want me nosing around your business?” I asked.
“I trust Patrick, which means I trust you.” Caspian clasped his hands in front of him and gave me a pointed look. “I need this handled quietly.”
“I’m not a detective. Just a barista,” I reminded him, even though I was the town’s lawyer whenever the mayor needed me.
“I know you can find out anything. I’ve been on the other end of that. Remember?” he asked.
“I remember plenty,” I said. Caspian and I had enough history for both of us to know he wasn’t exaggerating.
“I’m only asking you to keep your ears open during the retreat,” Caspian said. “You’re already going to be there. People talk around you. Even Victoria said you were easy to talk to.”
“You told Victoria about the break-in?” I asked, knowing his wife didn’t have a lot to do with the country club.
“No. Goodness no.” He shook his head. “She’d be worried, and there’s no need to worry her.”
“You haven’t told me what they might be looking for.” I wanted to know clearly what I would be getting into if I agreed to snoop. But the little itch I was getting from this was undeniable. I loved to snoop. It was one thing that made me a great lawyer.
“I’ll pay you,” he said, then released a long breath before looking down at his watch.
I mean, it would be good to get a little extra income going into the winter. The coffee shop did survive on selling enough coffee to be able to stay open in the harsh winter months. That was just part of owning a small business in a tourist town.
And Patrick didn’t have a whole lot of inside work coming his way for the winter, which also meant Cane Construction would be running a little on the lean side. Any way to save a buck without me having to lay off employees just might be the right thing to do.
“I don’t know what they were looking for, but on the camera, they seemed to be interested in company documents,” he said. “You can go through all the footage when you come to the event.”
I looked down at the photograph.
“What kind of documents?” I asked and looked up at him. “Financial records? Employee files? Contracts?”
“I don’t know. I need to know who first, and when you find out, I want to get my hands on them,” he said in a threatening tone.
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“What if it was your shop?” He stabbed me in the heartstrings with that question.
“Fine.” I gave in. “I’m not promising anything. You need to understand that.”
“Good enough,” he said, giving me a quick nod. He turned toward the door like the conversation was over. “See you at the club,” he called again. He passed Birdie Bebe on his way out and her way in.
“Good morning, Birdie,” I greeted her, the Bean Hive’s manager and my right hand.
“Good morning,” she said, tugging off the knit beanie that covered her blond pixie haircut. She pulled off her black leather jacket. She wore her leggings with the cobweb design on them and her long-sleeved Bean Hive shirt.
“What did Caspian want?” Bunny asked as she leaned over the coffee bar to make sure it was fully stocked. Soon the morning rush of customers who loved the honor system would come in and skip the lines just to get their cups of hot coffee.
“Just event stuff,” I said and picked up the photo. “Birdie, this afternoon, I will be heading out to the country club to check out the space.”
Really, I was just going to put my eyes on the offices and start my new little sleuth job.
“Sounds good,” she said and went about checking off her morning duties. Meanwhile, I headed over to the door to flip the sign so the world would know we were open for business and ready to caffeinate the people.
On my way over, I took one more look at the photo Caspian had given me.
“Who are you, and what are you looking for?” I swallowed down the small tickle in my belly that made my heart beat a little faster. This feeling was one I hadn’t had in a long time. In fact, the last time I had it, I was in the courtroom, defending the biggest case of my life.
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