The Inn at Holiday Bay: V in the Valentine

Book 32: The Inn at Holiday Bay

by Kathi Daley

Genres: Animal Cozy Mysteries; Culinary Cozy Mysteries

Synopsis

A cozy seaside Valentine Mystery that will keep you guessing.

The Inn at Holiday Bay is a heartwarming cozy mystery series about losing everything, taking a chance, and starting again.

After suffering a personal tragedy Abby Sullivan buys a huge old seaside mansion she has never even seen, packs up her life in San Francisco, and moves to Holiday Bay Maine, where she is adopted, quite against her will, by a huge Maine Coon Cat named Rufus, a drifter with her own tragic past named Georgia, and a giant dog with an inferiority complex named Ramos. What Abby thought she needed was alone time to heal. What she ended up with was, an inn she never knew she wanted, a cat she couldn't seem to convince to leave, and a new family she'd never be able to live without.

In book 32 in the series, Abby and Georgia stumble onto a new clue in an old mystery while entertaining an inn full of guests on Valentine's Day.

 

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Release date: February 4, 2025

Publisher: Kathi Daley Books

Print pages: 174

Reader says this book is...: entertaining story (1) escapist/easy read (1)

Sample

Chapter 1

“Abby, have you seen Hazel’s purple booties?” my roommate and daughter by choice, Bailey
Sullivan, called from the living room.
“Did you check to see if they’re in the laundry room?” I called back. The laundry room in
our two-bedroom cottage was more of a laundry closet, but since Hazel had come into our lives,
it seemed there was usually a basket of clean clothes sitting on top of the dryer just waiting to be
folded and put away.
“Got ‘em,” she called back as I entered the common area of the cottage, which consisted of
the kitchen, living room, small eating area, and short hallway to the laundry closet. Hazel was
happily sitting in her battery-operated swing as it gently propelled back and forth in a rhythmic
fashion.
“Are you going somewhere this morning?” I asked Bailey, who was leaning over the sofa,
loading a diaper bag as I entered the room.
“Hazel has an appointment with the pediatrician. It’s just a regular checkup, but I plan to ask
them to look at her ear.”
Bailey’s four-month-old daughter, Hazel Sullivan, had been rubbing her right ear lately,
which might indicate an ear infection, but she didn’t seem to be in any pain, so, in my mind, the
ear rubbing might merely be a means of self-soothing.
“Do you need a ride?” I asked. Bailey didn’t have her own vehicle, although she recently got
her driver’s license. I’d offered to buy Bailey a car so she didn’t have to depend on others for
rides, but Bailey was the independent sort who insisted that she’d buy her first vehicle with
money she’d saved from the salary she earned working at the inn.
“Haven’s going to take me,” Bailey answered. Haven Hanson was another teen living on the
property I owned and operated as an inn. “Since the inn is unoccupied today and Haven and I
both have the day off, we’re going to go to lunch and maybe do some shopping afterward.”
“It sounds like you have a nice day planned.”

She stood up and put her fists on her hips as she looked around the room. “I’m looking
forward to it. You didn’t happen to see where Hazel’s pacifier ended up, did you? I’m trying to
wean her from it, but since we’ll be dining in a restaurant, it might be a good idea to have it on
hand just in case.”
“I sanitized it when I did the nipples for the bottles yesterday. Check the box.”
Since two of us were sharing the responsibility of raising the little angel who had come into
our lives this past fall, we’d decided it was essential to work out a system that would allow us to
know what had been done, what needed to be done, and where everything was. One of the first
routines we’d established after Hazel’s birth was separate storage areas for sterilized nipples and
pacifiers and those needing sterilization.
Bailey grabbed the pacifier and tossed it, along with a couple bottles of breast milk, into the
insulated section of the fancy diaper bag Haven and I bought for her. Once Bailey was satisfied
that she had everything she needed, she picked her daughter up and began the lengthy process of
layering on her outerwear. It had been a cold winter in coastal Maine, and everyone knew how
important it was to keep the two babies living on the property bundled up against the frigid
temperatures.
“Okay,” Bailey said, checking her cell phone. “I think Hazel and I are ready, and it looks like
Haven has her truck all warmed up. I’m not sure what time we’ll be home. I would guess
midafternoon.”
“Take your time and have fun. And remind Haven to take it slow. The roads are icy in the
mornings.”
“I’ll remind her,” Bailey promised as she strapped Hazel into the infant seat that snapped into
the car seat that had already been loaded into Haven’s truck. “If you need to get ahold of me, I
have my cell phone.”
Once Bailey and Hazel left, I filled my coffee cup and settled in front of the fireplace to drink
it. I felt as if Bailey, Hazel, and I had settled into a companionable routine that seemed to suit
everyone, and Hazel certainly seemed to be thriving. But I had to admit that a deeply buried part
of me still feared something would occur at any moment that would send my perfect world
descending into a dark abyss. Given my history, I supposed it was natural to worry about the
“what ifs” as we navigated each day. Bailey was such a good mom, and she was very
conscientious when it came to the health and safety of her child, but I’d learned the hard way that
there were rare circumstances when even good moms lost their babies.
Georgia had counseled me not to dwell on my past. She’d cautioned that doing so would
cause me to miss the joy in Hazel’s presence. And, most of the time, I did fine with that. But
certain things continued to cause me concern, like Hazel riding around in Haven’s old and
somewhat unreliable truck. I respected Bailey’s desire to buy her own car, and was afraid that
going behind Bailey’s back and buying her a car as a gift would not only make her angry but
might cause her to doubt my belief in her ability to handle her own life now that she was
emancipated, but I also wanted her to have everything she needed to keep Hazel safe. Of course,
maybe I didn’t necessarily need to buy a car for Bailey. Perhaps I could buy myself a new SUV
and then offer to let Bailey use my old SUV until she was able to buy her own vehicle. It was
something to consider.

I glanced at the clock on my cell phone. I had plans today with my best friend and inn co-
owner, Georgia Carter-Peyton. Although we didn’t have guests today, we did have two guests
checking in tomorrow, and we expected to be fully booked by Friday, which just happened to be
Valentine’s Day. Georgia and I had arranged to take care of a few errands this morning, but we
hadn’t settled on a time, and we hadn’t determined if I was going to pick her up or if she was
planning on picking me up. Until recently, Georgia had lived in the second bedroom of the
cottage that I had called home for the past six years, which had been exceedingly convenient, but
now that Georgia married her long-time boyfriend, Tanner Peyton, and had permanently moved
to his home located on the property adjoining the inn, and I’d invited the pregnant teen I’d
befriended to live with me. I missed having Georgia around as often as she’d been when she
lived with me, but things with Bailey and Hazel seemed to be working out, and since Georgia
still worked at the inn, I still saw her nearly every day.
“Call Georgia,” I said and then waited for my automated cell phone to make the call. I
considered sending a text but calling took less effort, and I could leave a message if she was in
the shower or otherwise occupied.
“Hey, Abby. Are we still on for today?” she asked after answering.
“We are. I just wanted to verify a time and to ask if you wanted to pick me up or if I should
pick you up.”
“I’ll pick you up at ten. I thought about heading out earlier, but with no breakfast prep to
attend to, I find I’m enjoying a lazy morning.”
“I’m with you on that. Bailey, Hazel, and Haven have already left for town, and I’m still in
my pajamas. I suppose I should jump into the shower.”
“I was about to head upstairs to get ready as well. It’s been nice to have the opportunity to sip
my coffee and ease into my day these past few mornings.”
“I do enjoy the slower pace of winter. We have a full inn this weekend, but the remainder of
February is slow.”
“I noticed that. I may even take a week off and whisk my husband away on a romantic
vacation, but we can discuss that later. Right now, I need to run.”
“Okay. See you in a bit.”
After I’d firmed things up with Georgia, I decided to call Kate, my agent, before I headed
into the shower. She’d called and left two messages in the past couple of days, but all we’d
managed to do so far was play phone tag. I knew Kate liked to be in her office early, so chances
were good that she’d be there now.
“Is this my favorite author, Abigail Sullivan, finally getting back to me?” Kate teased after
answering my call.
“It is. I tried to call you back yesterday, but I just got your voicemail.”
“I had a book signing event to attend yesterday, so when I realized I’d missed your call, I
figured I’d just call you today.”
“Is something up?” It wasn’t uncommon for Kate and me to stay in touch, but she’d been
particularly insistent this past week.

“Not really. I wanted to express my gratitude to you for hosting the writers’ retreat last month
and to convey once again how impressed I was with your handling of things, especially
considering the very unusual circumstances.”
Georgia and I, along with two of our friends, Lou Prescott and Velma Crawford, recently
hosted a retreat for twelve authors at an isolated lodge north of Holiday Bay.
“Thank you. It was a challenging week, but in my opinion, we got through it okay. Now that
everyone has returned home, have you heard from any of the other authors?”
“Actually, I have,” Kate replied. She then proceeded to catch me up on all the latest news.
“The main reason I called, however, wasn’t to discuss the progress your fellow authors have
made since returning from the retreat but to ask you about your schedule. It’s been a while since
you put out anything new.”
I blew out a long breath. “I know. I have considered doing something new, but I’ve been so
busy. Is the publisher nosing around?”
“They are, actually. In fact, I’ve been asked to approach you about a trilogy.”
“Thriller?”
“Romance. The publishing house is working on next year’s publishing schedule, and they
would like to have a series of books to promote from one of their favorite authors.”
It had been a while since I’d written sweet romance, but since that was the genre that had
given me my start, maybe I should consider the idea. After Ben and Johnathan had died, I hadn’t
wanted to write anything so happy and uncomplicated. But as luck would have it, I was in a
pretty happy and content place now, so maybe writing something simple with uncomplicated
characters would be just the thing.
“Can I think about it?” I asked.
“You can, but don’t think about it too long. The publisher wants to nail down their schedule
for twenty twenty-six as soon as possible.”
“I understand. I’ll think about the idea and get back to you by the end of the month.”
“That should be fine.”
“Georgia is picking me up in an hour, and I need to run. Can I call you next week to discuss
this some more?”
“Next week would be fine. Mornings are best.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you then.”
After I hung up with Kate, I headed toward my bedroom suite. It was cold and overcast
today, so I’d need warm clothing for the outdoors, but since Georgia and I planned to spend most
of our day indoors, I supposed I’d need to dress in layers. I had warm jeans and knee-high winter
boots that would keep the bottom half of me warm. If I layered a long-sleeved shirt and a sweater
with the warm ski jacket my good friend, Shelby Morris, had given me for Christmas, I should
be ready for any weather Mother Nature could throw at me.
As she’d promised to do, Georgia picked me up at ten o’clock. Like me, she’d dressed in
layers and had worn the ski jacket Shelby had given her from one of her sisters, Sage Wilson’s,

outerwear collection. I had to admit that there were definite benefits to having a friend whose
sister owned her own clothing lines.
“I spoke to Kate this morning,” I informed Georgia as we drove toward town.
“Oh. And what did Kate have to say?”
“She said she wanted to catch me up on the progress some of the writers have made since the
retreat, but I think the real reason was that she wanted to check the temperature on the idea of my
doing a trilogy for my publisher’s twenty twenty-six schedule.”
“I guess it has been a while since you published anything new.”
“It has, and I know I should publish new work if I don’t want to lose my readers. I’ve been
focused on mystery, suspense, and thrillers, but Kate wants a sweet romance trilogy.”
“How do you feel about that?”
I frowned. “I’m not sure. At this point, all I’ve agreed to is to think it over.”
“That seems like a good way to approach things.”
Georgia pulled off the highway and headed toward the first stop on the itinerary, All About
Bluebells. All About Bluebells was the flower shop of choice for the Inn at Holiday Bay, and
Georgia had a standing order for fresh flowers every week. Cricket and Marnie Abernathy, the
southern sisters who owned the shop, usually chose the flowers they would deliver. But on those
occasions when there was a holiday or special event, Georgia liked to approve the bouquets
before they were assembled.
“The roses you ordered arrived, but the delivery of a few of the accessory flowers we chose
for the larger bouquets was delayed. I have some suggestions if you want to take a look,” Marnie
said to Georgia.
“I’d like to see what you have,” Georgia replied.
“Why don’t you come on into the back so I can show you some samples. Cricket can watch
the front.”
I decided to stay and chat with Cricket while Georgia and Marnie went into the backroom to
look at the flowers.
“So I hear you’re hosting a lovers’ retreat out at the inn this weekend,” Cricket said in her
sweet southern drawl.
“That was the idea,” I responded. “But in the end, we only have one couple staying with us
this weekend.”
She raised a brow. “No kidding. Just one couple on what many consider the most romantic
day of the year. How did that happen?”
I shrugged. “I’m not really sure. Even though we billed the weekend as a lovers’ retreat and
planned to outfit each suite with long-stem red roses, a bottle of champagne, a box of dark
chocolates, a ticket for the Valentine’s Day event at the Bistro, and a gift certificate for a couples’
massage at the new spa in town, most of the inquiries we received were from folks with
something other than romance on their minds. The one couple we have staying with us, Trevor
and Taylor Klondike, are newlyweds who requested suite six at the top of the stairs. They were

married this past Saturday and are actually on their honeymoon. They’re staying at a bed and
breakfast in Connecticut during the first part of the week and will check in with us on Thursday
for four nights.”
Cricket grinned. “I doubt you’ll see them the entire time they’re there. Who else do you have
checking in?”
“Shelly Von and Sherry Truman are sisters and have booked suites two and three for three
nights beginning on Thursday. Both are in their forties and even though both are recently
divorced and on their own, when we explained the lovers’ retreat theme, they were fine with it.
They told Georgia they enjoyed champagne and dark chocolates and that a night out on
Valentine’s Day and a massage sounded heavenly.”
“I guess I have to admire them for their commitment to living their lives to the fullest despite
their recent challenges. I don’t suppose you have any recently divorced brothers you can hook
them up with.”
I shook my head. “We have two men staying with us in addition to Trevor. Both are single,
but I’m not sure either would be a good match for the sisters. Kyle Young is at least a decade
younger than the sisters, maybe more. I’m not sure if he’s romantically entangled, but I know
he’ll be in town for a job interview, which just happened to have been scheduled for Friday the
fourteenth. I can’t remember offhand what job he’s after, but I do remember that he planned to be
in town both for the interview and to look around, so he plans to stay the weekend, although he
didn’t seem to have romance on his mind.”
“And the other single male?”
“Robert James is checking in tomorrow and checking out on Tuesday. I think the man is in
his sixties. His late sixties, if I had to guess. Like Kyle, he doesn’t seem to have romance on his
mind.”
“And why is he in town?”
“According to Georgia, Robert retired from the FBI a few years ago, and after leaving the
Bureau, he started investigating cold cases as a hobby. He told Georgia that he would be in town
to investigate one of his cold cases.”
“That certainly sounds interesting. Anyone else checking in?” Cricket asked.
“Angela Henry, a retired librarian, will be in town to track someone down. I don’t have the
whole story, but apparently, she has something to deliver. I’ll need to fill you in when I get the
rest of the details. She’s also checking in tomorrow and plans to stay through the weekend.”
“While you may not have attracted the type of guest you anticipated, it sounds like a fun
group.”
I had to agree with that.
Georgia and Marnie returned after having made the necessary flower adjustments. We
chatted for a few minutes, and then Georgia suggested we walk across the courtyard to say hi to
Lou and Velma, co-owners of Firehouse Books. Lou Prescott and Velma Crawford had helped
Georgia and me at the writers’ retreat I’d hosted a few weeks ago, but we hadn’t chatted with
them since, so it would be nice to catch up.

“It looks like there’s a new business going in where the wine bar used to be,” Georgia said to
the pair after we all greeted one another.
Astoria Walton used to own a wine bar in the courtyard, but she had experienced a personal
tragedy this past fall and decided to take some time for herself. Initially, she indicated that she’d
return to Holiday Bay at some point. Lou recently found out that after Astoria sold her inventory
to another wine shop further up the coast, she had given up the lease on her retail space and sold
her condo.
“I’m sorry Astoria left, but I guess I’m not surprised,” I said. “Sometimes life throws you a
curveball that’s so shattering that the only thing to do is to run away in the hope of finding
someplace new to start over again.”
“I guess you would know something about that,” Velma said, sending me a soft smile.
Looking back, running away to Holiday Bay was the best decision I could have made after
my son and husband died, but at the time, it was also the hardest decision I’d ever made.
“So, who’s going into that space?” I asked.
“I’m actually not sure,” Lou responded. “Someone came by and cleaned out Astoria’s
inventory, and then a man who deals in secondhand goods came in and cleared out the shelving
and storage cabinets. When I spoke to the handyman who came to clean and do minor repairs, he
merely told me there would be a new tenant moving in, and he’d been hired to get things ready,
but he didn’t seem to know who the new tenant would be.”
“The courtyard gang is so tight-knit,” Velma said. “We’re like a family. I hope whoever
moves in fits in with the rest of us.”
I understood what Velma was talking about. The employees who worked and lived at the inn
were more of a family to me than my actual family.
“Hazel was concerned about the rescue cats,” Lou added, referring to Hazel Hawthorn, who
ran the local cat rescue. “Currently, all the courtyard tenants pitch in to take care of the cats we
feature in the cat lounge when the bookstore is closed, and Velma and I aren’t available to take
care of their daily needs. I’m sure the others can manage even if the new tenant doesn’t like cats,
but things will go more smoothly if a cat lover moves into the space.”
“The cat rescue is such a good cause. It would be nice if the new tenant supported the effort,”
Georgia agreed.
Lou and Velma each commented about the cats and the importance the lounge played in the
cat rescue’s success. Since Lou lived in an apartment above the bookstore, she was on the
premises most of the time and willing to look after the cats even if the bookstore was closed, but
there were times she was away, and the others needed to pitch in.
After we finished at the bookstore, Georgia and I decided to head to the bank. Georgia
needed to make a deposit, and I needed to sign paperwork relating to a new account I’d opened
after deciding to have the deposits from my publisher go into an account separate from my
personal checking.
“There’s a long line to see a teller today,” I said after we entered the building. I looked
toward the new accounts desk, which was currently empty. “And it looks like Jasper has stepped
away from his desk.”

“Jasper takes care of the safety deposit boxes in addition to opening new accounts, so he
might just be in the back with a customer. Maybe someone will see you if you go and stand by
the desk and come over to help,” Georgia suggested.
“Okay. I guess I’ll do that.” I looked toward the front of the line Georgia was in to make her
deposit. “It looks like you might be done before me, even though there only seems to be one
teller today. If you finish first, come over to the new accounts desk.”
As Georgia suggested, I walked over to the new accounts desk even though the clerk wasn’t
there. I realized that the only teller serving customers at the window couldn’t leave to help me,
but it seemed likely that someone on the property could dig out the paperwork I needed to sign.
“Are you here to see Jasper?” a woman I recognized as one of the backroom staff asked.
“I am. Jasper called me yesterday and told me he had my paperwork ready, and I just needed
to stop by and sign it. Is he here?”
“He isn’t,” the woman answered. “Pauline is also a no-show for her teller shift. I’m not sure
what’s going on, but we really are shorthanded today. Might I ask you to come back tomorrow?
The bank president is on holiday, but he’s due to be back tomorrow, so even if Jasper doesn’t
show up again, he should be able to help you with your new account.”
I wasn’t thrilled about having to come back, but I could see that this poor woman had no idea
how to help me. It wasn’t her fault that both Jasper and Pauline were no-shows.
“I’ll call the bank tomorrow. If someone is around who can help me, I’ll make an
appointment to come back.” I stood up. “Are Jasper and Pauline ill?” There had been something
nasty going around town this winter.
“I’m not sure. All I know is that neither employee showed up for their shift today, nor did
either employee call in. I’ve tried calling them both, but my calls are sent straight to voicemail. I
plan to stop by Pauline’s place during my lunch break and check in on her. She’s likely just
playing hooky, but I have a weird feeling about things.”
“Weird, how?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Something doesn’t seem right. If one or the other missed work,
I wouldn’t be worried, although, between you and me, Jasper and Pauline seem to have
something going on outside the workplace. The popular opinion around here is that they had a
late night and flaked, but I’m not sure.” She frowned. “While Pauline has missed a lot of work in
the past, Jasper is usually pretty dependable. I really am worried about both of them.”

Chapter 2

Once Georgia made it to the front of the line, made her deposit, and walked over to the new
accounts desk, we decided to have lunch at the Bistro at Holiday Bay. Two of our good friends,
Shelby Morris and Amy Hogan, owned the popular eatery, and Georgia and I tried to stop in for
a bite, or at least a drink, whenever we were in town. As soon as we turned the corner to
approach the Bistro’s parking area, we noticed several police cars parked at the entrance to the
marina, which was located across the street from the Bistro, as well as the rather large crowd of
spectators standing around the area where the police vehicles were parked.
“I wonder what’s going on,” Georgia commented.
“I have no idea,” I responded as I searched the crowd for a sign of my boyfriend, Police
Chief Colt Wilder. “I don’t see Colt, Alex, or Brax, but it looks as if all three of their cars are
here,” I referred to Colt’s second-in-command, Officer Alex Weston, and his newest hire, Officer
Braxton Baker. “Let’s park, and then we can wander over and see if anyone nearby can fill us
in.”
“It looks like the Bistro’s parking lot is full,” Georgia said.
“Pull around to the back of the building to the employee parking. I’m sure Shelby won’t
mind if we use one of her employee spots.”
Georgia did as I suggested, and then we walked toward the crowd.
“Do you know what’s going on?” a tall man with dark hair and dark eyes sporting a bushy
dark beard asked Georgia and me after we settled in to stand beside him.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t. I just got here myself,” I responded.
“The police have blocked off the entrance to the marina, so none of us standing around have
been able to get close enough to see anything, but people are whispering about a murder,” a
woman I recognized as working at the gardening store a few blocks away provided.
“Murder? I don’t suppose you heard who?” Georgia asked.

The woman shook her head. “I’m not sure there was a murder, but that seems to be the
rumor, and I heard that the coroner, as well as the crime scene guy from the county, have been
called in.”
The tall man with the beard had wandered away while the woman from the garden shop
continued to chat with Georgia and me. The crowd was getting larger by the minute, but it was
impossible to see what was happening. I glanced across the marina to where a group of people in
uniforms stood around a yacht tied to the end of the deep-water pier.
“I wish there was a way to get closer,” a woman wearing a thick down jacket, who was
standing to my left, commented.
“Maybe the view would be better from the beach since you’d be able to get closer to the
dock,” Georgia suggested.
“Maybe, but you’d give up the vantage point of height,” the woman replied. “It looks as if
uniformed officers are urging folks to vacate the beach and dock altogether. Chances are we’ll
need to wait and watch the nightly news if we want the details.”
If I could make my way over to where Colt was likely working, I could get more
information, which I could then share with the others, but he was most assuredly busy, and I
supposed we didn’t need to know all the details at this very moment. I could see that no one in
the immediate vicinity knew much more than I did, so I suggested to Georgia that we go ahead
and head over to the Bistro as we’d planned. Even though the Bistro was further away from the
scene than where we were currently standing, chances were that someone there knew more about
what was happening than we did.
“Did you hear about the dead guys who were found on that big yacht that’s tied up to the
deep-water pier?” Georgia’s sister-in-law and Bistro employee, Nikki Peyton, asked as soon as
we walked into the eatery through the front door.
“We heard there may have been a murder,” I responded. “Do you have any details?”
“Not really,” Nikki answered. “I just heard that two men were found dead below deck. There
are a lot of rumors going around, and I don’t know anything firsthand, but I did hear that the
guys who were found have been dead for a few days and likely had already been dead when the
yacht docked.”
“Why would anyone dock with bodies below?” I asked. “If there was a murder at sea, it
seems as if the bodies would have been tossed overboard before the crew approached land.”
Nikki shrugged. “No idea. It makes no sense to me, but that’s what I heard. I imagine you can
ask Colt about it once he gets freed up.”
“I’ll do that,” I said.
“Do the two of you want a table?” Nikki asked.
“Please,” Georgia answered. “We came by in the first place to have lunch.”
“I have a nice table in the bar near the window. You can eat and keep an eye on what’s going
on over at the marina.”
“Is Dawson here today?” I asked as we walked through the bar toward the table Nikki picked
out for us. Dawson Westwood was the Bistro’s bartender/bar manager.

“He’s getting his house ready for the band we’ve booked for the weekend, so he’s off today,
but I’ll go and grab a couple glasses of water and then take your orders.”
“The band is staying with him?” I asked.
“Not with him exactly, but in his house. Dawson has been all but living with Shelby these
past few months, so his house has just been sitting there empty. He has that soundproof room he
uses for his music if the band wants to practice, so he thought the house would be a better choice
for the band than a motel.”
I’d heard that Dawson and Shelby were now officially a couple, but I hadn’t heard that he’d
all but moved in with her. Good for them. I’d always thought they were well-suited.
Once Nikki left to grab our water, Georgia and I looked at the menu. Georgia and I ate at the
Bistro often enough that we didn’t need a menu, but Amy occasionally changed out the seasonal
menu items, and it had been a while since we’d been in.
“I think I’m going to try the soup and half sandwich special,” I said. “I’ve had Amy’s red
pepper soup. It’s really very good. And the sandwich special today is a Ruben.”
“That does sound good,” Georgia agreed. “I think I’ll have the same thing.”
Nikki returned to the table, dropped off our water, took our order, and returned to the dining
room. I noticed Charmaine Kettleman and Lucy Lansing were also in the dining room. The
women were waitresses who usually worked the day shift when the Bistro was open. I hadn’t
noticed Shelby, but there was a good chance she was either in the kitchen helping Amy and her
sous chef, Cambria, or upstairs in her office taking care of the bookkeeping.
I looked out the window toward the marina. I could see Alex and Brax now that they seemed
to have made their way closer to the crowd’s edge. Both were doing their best to keep the lookie-
lous behind the tape, but I still didn’t see Colt. Chances were, he was with the crime scene guy at
the crime scene. “I wonder who the yacht belongs to.”
“No idea,” Georgia answered, “but I bet one of the staff knows.”
Charmaine showed up with our lunch just about then, so I asked her what she knew about the
vessel.
“I heard from Barney that two men showed up on Sunday, tied up to the pier, and offered the
harbor master a bunch of cash to skip the registration process and allow them to dock
anonymously for a couple days. Once that was arranged, they left.” Barney was a local fisherman
who regularly accessed the marina. “Who the men are is anyone’s guess, but Barney seemed to
think the men were from down south. Maybe Florida or even the Bahamas, but he didn’t know
that with any degree of certainty; however, he did know that another much smaller boat pulled up
next to the yacht early this morning, just after he arrived at his fishing boat. Two men exited the
boat, tied up, boarded the yacht, and left shortly after. Barney was curious about the men and
their reason for boarding the yacht, so he decided to sneak aboard and check things out. He
found the dead men below deck.”
“But he didn’t think the men who boarded killed these men,” Georgia clarified.
“No. The dead men on the yacht had been dead for a while,” Charmaine answered. “At least
that’s what Barney said. He still isn’t sure what the two men who tied up and boarded were

doing, but he seemed to think it was the dead men below that caused them to leave only a few
minutes after boarding.”
“So, did Barney call Colt after boarding the yacht and finding the dead men?” I asked.
Charmaine nodded. “That’s what he told me.” She looked over her shoulder and waved at a
couple seated at a nearby table. “I need to go. If you need anything, holler.”
I promised her I would and then turned my attention back to Georgia. “This soup is
excellent,” I said after taking my first bite.
“Amy really does have a way with soups,” Georgia agreed. “All her food really is good, but I
think that coming up with delicious soups is her special talent. I’ve even considered dedicating
an entire segment of Cooking with Georgia to soups. I have a full schedule at this point, but I
haven’t even started to work on a schedule for next winter. I’m sure I can find a place to slip the
soups in. If I do, I plan on asking Amy to come on the show as a guest chef.”
“I’m sure she’d love that. She’s always looking for the opportunity to promote the Bistro. In
fact, I heard that Shelby and Amy were kicking around the idea of hosting a cookoff where there
would not only be a grand prize but the winning recipes would be added to the Bistro’s menu for
a year, and the chef who came up with the recipe would be recognized on the menu.”
“That seems like a fun idea. I should talk to Amy and see if there’s a way that Cooking with
Georgia can support and promote their venture.”
In the past, Amy had teamed up with Georgia for cooking shows and cookoffs sponsored by
the cable television station Georgia worked for, so I was sure they’d find a way to work together
on this as well.
“It looks like Shelby is heading this way. I guess you can ask her about the idea.” I lifted a
hand and waved as Shelby came down the stairs from her office, noticed us, and headed in our
direction.
“Good afternoon, ladies. I wasn’t aware you were here, or I would have come down sooner.”
“We stopped by to have some of Amy’s soup and started chatting with Charmaine about the
hullabaloo going on at the marina,” Georgia said, glancing out the window toward the marina. “It
looks as if the crowd is beginning to disperse. Have you heard anything?”
“Nothing more than what everyone else has heard. That yacht has been tied up there since
Sunday, but I don’t know a thing about the owner or the men who were found dead.” Shelby sat
on an empty chair at our table.
“Nikki seated us when we first arrived, and she told us that the men were already dead when
the yacht docked,” I said.
“That seems to be the case,” Shelby agreed. “I guess Colt will sort it all out. And, at some
point, the vessel’s owner will return for his boat.”
I supposed that Shelby had a point about that as well.
“Are y’all coming to the Valentine’s Day shindig on Friday?” Shelby asked.
I assured her that Colt and I, Georgia and Tanner, and our good friends, Lonnie and Lacy
Parker, had reserved a table for six near the back of the room where the music from the band
wouldn’t be quite so loud. I explained that it wasn’t that there was any doubt that the band would

be excellent but that the older I got, the less I tolerated loud music. Shelby assured me she
understood completely and would ensure the six of us would have the perfect table.
I complimented Shelby on the soup, which led to Georgia asking her about the cookoff idea.
Shelby jumped in with an outline of the basic concept, although she admitted that while she and
Amy had been kicking around the idea, they didn’t have any firm plans in place at this point.
Georgia asked if there was a way the Cooking with Georgia show could support the idea, and
Shelby agreed that it would likely benefit both the Bistro and the show for them to work together.
They decided to get together at a later date to discuss the details.
Georgia and I chatted with Shelby for a little longer, and then we headed back toward the inn.
After Georgia dropped me off, I texted Colt, and he texted back to let me know that he couldn’t
speak right then but would try to stop by later if it wasn’t too late by the time he wrapped things
up. I asked about the kids, and Colt told me that he’d asked his parents to pick Mackey up from
school and to keep Tyler and Mackey overnight since he didn’t know how late he’d be. They’d
been happy to handle the kids, so he didn’t have that to worry about. I didn’t always get along
with Colt’s mother, but I did have to admit that the woman would do anything for her
grandchildren. Even though she saw me as a liability rather than an asset in her son’s life, I had
to admire her for putting herself out there for those she’d committed to.
“Haven and I went to the Bistro for lunch, and Nikki told us about the bodies,” Bailey shared
as she sat on the sofa with Hazel after I returned to the cottage. “No one knew anything when we
were there, but it sounds like you were there after we’d left. Was there any news?”
“Not really,” I answered. “There were a lot of rumors going around at that point, but nothing
concrete. Colt said he might be by later, so we can ask him about it then.”
Bailey settled Hazel on her shoulder and began to pat her back. “If Colt’s coming over, do
you want Hazel and me to clear out?”
“No. You are both welcome to stay. Colt and I certainly don’t have a romantic evening
planned. If he gets things wrapped up in time, he might come by for dinner and some
conversation.”
She grinned. “Are you sure you don’t want us to clear out? Dinner and conversation sounds
like it might be code for something else.”
I tossed a pillow at her, being careful not to hit Hazel. “I’m sure, and it’s not.”
She laughed.
“Are Jeremy and the others going to be here for dinner?” I asked.
“No,” she answered. “I ran into Jeremy, Mylie, and Danny on their way out to pick
Annabelle up from school, and Jeremy mentioned stopping for pizza after they did a few errands.
We could ask Haven to come over, and we can make dinner here. If Colt shows up in time, he
can join us, but if he doesn’t, we can make him a plate.”
“That sounds like a good plan. Do you know where Haven is?”
“She’s doing homework in her apartment. I’ll text her. Are you hungry? Should I have her
come over now?”
“I could eat.”

Haven ended up bringing her homework with her. She’d dropped out of high school when
she’d run away from the foster system to live on her own. Although recently, Haven passed the
GED and signed up for classes at the local college. She was a bright girl who admittedly was
lacking in a few areas, but she had Bailey to help her, and between Bailey’s help and Haven’s
hard work and determination, she was getting straight A’s.
“Do you have anything else to work on after this math?” Bailey asked.
“A history paper. I keep hoping that my paper will write itself if I ignore it, but so far, that
hasn’t happened.”
“I can help you if you want,” Bailey offered. “My mother had this thing for Napoleon
Bonapart and insisted that I learn everything there was to learn about the strategy and
psychology of war, specifically the French Revolution.”
Haven smiled. “Thanks, I’d appreciate that. I’m afraid that history never was my thing, even
in school, before I ran away and dropped out. I do hate to monopolize your evening, however.”
“I’m happy to help,” Bailey assured her.
“Have you given any more thought to taking classes yourself?” I asked Bailey. She’d had a
top-notch education, so I wasn’t sure the local college had much to offer her, but maybe she
could take classes from a major university online.
“Honestly, at this point, I’m just trying to master this motherhood thing, but maybe I’ll look
at doing something online in the fall.”

Chapter 3

As he indicated he would try to do, Colt stopped by later that evening. The girls and I had
already made and consumed our dinner, but we’d made a plate for Colt, which I had kept warm
in the oven. Bailey had taken Hazel and headed to Haven’s to watch TV, allowing Colt and I to
freely speak about the incident at the marina this morning.
“Have you figured out the identities of the bodies found on the yacht?” I asked.
“No, not yet. I can say with certainty that the men were not locals, and it doesn’t appear that
they were US citizens. The yacht isn’t registered here in this country, so we’re assuming the
vessel originated its voyage from a location south of us.”
If the yacht started out in Central America or South America, I wasn’t sure why it would be
this far north, especially at this time of the year, but I supposed the men who arrived in Holiday
Bay two days ago had their reasons for being here.
“How did the men die?” I wondered, curious but not necessarily needing to hear all the gory
details.
“They were shot execution style.”
I cringed. “It just seems so odd that the men who must have shot and killed our murder
victims would dock with them aboard. Why not dump the bodies while they were still out to
sea?”
Colt shrugged as I topped off his coffee. “Keeping the bodies below deck was an odd choice.
One they may have gotten away with if the men in the smaller boat who tied up and boarded
hadn’t shown up, but an odd choice all the same.”
“Maybe the dead men were the victims of some sort of contract hit, and the men who tied up
yesterday needed pictures of the bodies to offer to their employer as proof of the completion of
their contract,” I suggested.
“As crazy as that sounds, it’s almost crazy enough to be true. I guess we’ll need to see how
this all works out. My office and the county office are working together to ID the yacht and track

down the men who left after they tied up in the marina. Do you have any more of these potatoes?
They are quite tasty.”
“Haven made them, and they are good, aren’t they? I have more in the refrigerator. I’ll stick a
bowl in the microwave.”
“Thanks. I skipped breakfast and never did get lunch today, so by this point, I’m starving.”
I got up and put the bowl of leftover potatoes in the microwave. “So, is there anything else
you haven’t already covered you can tell me about the yacht or the men left below deck?”
“Not really. At this point, we’re just trying to figure out who we’re dealing with.”
“What about Jasper and Pauline? Any sign of them?”
“Jasper and Pauline from the bank?” he asked.
I nodded. “I was at the bank today and was told that Jasper and Pauline missed work. The
rumor is that they’ve been seeing each other outside of the workplace, which might mean they
merely had a late night and decided to skip work, but it sounded like at least some of their
coworkers were worried about them. One of the women who works in the backroom told me that
she planned to stop by Pauline’s home during her lunch break, and if she wasn’t there, she would
call you to see about filing a missing person report. I was just curious if that ever happened.”
“I haven’t spoken to anyone from the bank, and as far as I know, no one has called into the
station about missing bank employees. Are you saying you think Jasper and Pauline are mixed
up with whatever went down on the yacht?”
“Not necessarily. I just find it interesting that Jasper and Pauline seem to be missing on the
same day the bodies of the two men from the yacht were found shot to death.”
“I’ll stop by the bank tomorrow and check on things. If Jasper and Pauline still haven’t
shown up, I’ll file missing person reports.” ...