The Inn at Holiday Bay: Verification in the Video

Book 40: The Inn at Holiday Bay

by Kathi Daley

Genres: Mystery; Animal Cozy Mysteries; Culinary Cozy Mysteries; Amateur Sleuth; Cozy Mystery; Female Sleuths

Synopsis

Summer has arrived in Maine, bringing heat, humidity, and an influx of visitors to the seaside community of Holiday Bay. Known for its enthusiasm for festivals and special events, the town thrives during the busy summer season. While the crowds are good for business, they leave employees and business owners stretched thin as they struggle to keep up with the demands of another record-breaking tourist season.

Hoping to expand her skills and bring even more value to her role at the inn, Haven enrolls in a summer cooking class taught by a popular food vlogger and culinary influencer. The instructor's unconventional approach to cooking is a hit with many of the students, including Haven. Everything seems to be going well until an outdoor cooking demonstration ends in tragedy when a gunshot rings out, leaving one person dead and a long list of suspects in its wake.

Meanwhile, Abby finds herself dealing with the consequences of a promise Colt's mother made on her behalf to the local middle school principal. Soccer season approaches, creating controversial draft-day tension between Lacy and one of her daughters. Haven makes an unexpected new friend, and Colt and Lonnie join forces with Dawson and Sully to form a classic rock band, proving that life in Holiday Bay is never dull, even when murder isn't on the agenda.

Join Abby, Haven, and the rest of the gang as they navigate friendship, family, love, second chances, and a mystery that threatens to turn a carefree summer into a season no one will soon forget.

Release date: July 28, 2026

Publisher: Kathi Daley Books

Print pages: 195

Sample

Chapter 1

“Hey, Abby. Check this out,” my daughter by choice, Haven Hanson, called to me as we
scoured the stalls at Holiday Bay’s farmers market for fresh produce for the inn I owned and we
both resided at. “These watermelon radishes are all the thing.” She grabbed a fistful of the trendy
vegetable, exposing large white bulbs dangling from wavy green stalks.
“They don’t look like a watermelon,” I responded. In fact, the vegetable that had Haven
smiling from ear to ear looked fairly ordinary to me. “Do they taste like watermelons?”
“No,” Haven admitted as she put several bunches into a bag. “They don’t taste like
watermelons, but they resemble a watermelon inside when you cut them open. Sort of. They’re
really very pretty.”
“I can’t wait to try one.”
Haven put the bag of watermelon radishes in our basket. “I think you’re going to be both
pleased and surprised by the crisp peppery taste.”
“I’m sure I will be.” I couldn’t help but smile at Haven’s enthusiasm for something as
ordinary as a vegetable. Haven came to me three and a half years ago, a lost soul with no one in
the world other than her faithful dog, Baxter. She’d been looking for a job, but from the moment
I first laid eyes on her, I knew we were destined to become a family. “The dragon fruit you
introduced me to a while back wasn’t at all what I was expecting.”
“I think that was my favorite new discovery so far, although it isn’t easy to find. Should we
get peaches and make a cobbler?”
“Peach cobbler sounds good to me.”
Haven tossed a guava melon into the basket. “I need to make a dessert for my class on
Thursday, and the assignment is to make something that feels like a mother’s hug. I can barely
remember my mother’s hug, but I suspect it felt a lot like peach cobbler tastes, so maybe I’ll use
that for my homework assignment.”

Haven’s family died in a house fire when she was twelve. She’d been home at the time of the
fire, and managed to climb out a window, run to a neighbor’s house, and call nine-one-one.
Haven had tried to save her family, but in the end, both her parents, as well as her three brothers,
perished in the fire.
I began sorting through the honeydew melons. “I have to say that the woman who teaches
your Thursday night cooking class has an interesting, yet fun, approach to cooking. Is she one of
the regular culinary arts teachers at the college or a guest instructor for the summer term?”
“She’s a guest instructor. Vikki’s a different sort of cooking instructor. She never went to
culinary school or worked at a fancy restaurant or anything like that, but she is famous in her
own sort of way.”
“You mentioned that she has a YouTube channel.”
Haven tossed a couple of cantaloupes into the basket. “Snack Chat with Vikki. It’s super
popular and totally non-traditional. I subscribe to her channel. She also has a vlog and social
media presence. We’ll watch her show together sometime.”
I put my arm around Haven and gave her an affectionate hug. “You have no idea how happy I
am that you’ve found something that you’re passionate about. Not everyone finds their true
calling, but it seems like you have.”
Haven grinned. “I guess I have. Switching my major to cooking just felt right, and cooking is
a useful skill. My English Lit coursework didn’t really make me an asset to the inn, but with my
new cooking skills, I can really pitch in and help.”
Haven made a good point. While I never wanted my girls to make life choices based on my
needs at the inn, I had to admit that Haven really had stepped up in the kitchen. Georgia Carter-
Peyton, my best friend, business partner, and head chef, had recently had a baby and wasn’t
available to work at the inn as often as she’d once been. My backup chef, Jeremy Slater, was
pretty overloaded managing both the additional tasks required to cover for Georgia’s reduction in
hours and the slack created after his wife, Mylie, my activities director and all-around helper,
announced she was pregnant and struggling with the side effects of her pregnancy.
“Oh, look, there’s Lacy.” Haven raised her arm and waved.
Lacy Parker, my second-best friend next to Georgia, waved back and then headed in our
direction.
“I see you found the watermelon radishes,” Lacy said, peeking into our basket.
“Aren’t they fun?” Haven grinned. “Even though it’s past peak season for these little cuties,
the farmers market has a good selection this week.”
“This farmers market seems to do a good job of finding both early and late season produce.”
Lacy picked one of the peaches Haven had grabbed and gave it a squeeze. “It looks like you’ve
cleaned out their stock of peaches.”
“I’m making peach cobbler,” Haven replied.
Lacy set the peach back in our basket. “I was thinking about making a berry cobbler this
week.”

Lacy had a large family and usually needed to stretch the grocery budget as far as it would
stretch. She shared that since boysenberries were on sale this week, she’d decided to take
advantage of the sale to make one of her husband, Lonnie’s, favorite desserts.
“I love boysenberry cobbler,” Haven said. “Probably even more than peach cobbler, but I
figured that peach cobbler felt more like a mother’s hug.”
Given the look on her face, Lacy was confused by that statement, but rather than
commenting, she asked Haven if she’d noticed the new delivery of butter lettuce.
Haven hurried off to grab several different varieties of lettuce to be used at the inn over the
next few days, so Lacy turned her attention to me. “Haven really seems to be into this cooking
thing.”
“She really is. She’s taking a couple of cooking classes this summer, and she seems to be
enjoying them, especially the class being taught by a cooking influencer named Vikki VanDyke.”
“I love her.” Lacy smiled. “She’s funny and creative and has this way of expressing herself
that really brings home the idea of food as an art. I assume that the mother’s hug comment Haven
made earlier was an assignment for Vikki’s class.”
I verified that to be the case.
“If I’d known Vikki was going to teach a class at the community college this summer, I
might have taken it myself,” Lacy commented.
“It’s a beginning cooking class, so you may have been bored, although, as you just pointed
out, the woman has a knack for pulling her students into whatever project they’re tackling. Last
week, Haven spent half a day in the kitchen coming up with a menu designed to not only feed the
body but the soul.”
“I totally get that,” Lacy said. “With six kids all going different directions, I’m forced to cook
on the run most of the time, but every now and then, I cook for myself. When I do, I try to create
something that satisfies not only my appetite but my emotional needs as well.”
“Like homemade soup on a snowy day or peach ice cream you churned yourself on a hot
summer evening.”
“Exactly. Ideally, food should fuel every aspect of your mind, body, and soul. Personally, for
me, one of those soul-satisfying desserts is strawberry shortcake with freshly whipped cream.”
“That does sound good, although I’ve been in the mood for something with chocolate.”
“I have a good recipe for chocolate sundae cheesecake. Are you coming with Colt when he
comes by for band practice tonight? Because if you are, I have all the fixings and we can whip up
a batch.”
“I wasn’t going to come, but if you’re making chocolate sundae cheesecake, I can change my
plans.”
My fiancé, Detective Colt Wilder, used to be in a band with Lacy’s husband, Lonnie. The
men had really enjoyed the pastime, but life got in the way, and things happened, causing the
band to break up several years ago. Then our good friend, the Bistro’s bartender and bar
manager, computer genius, and all-around good guy, Dawson Westwood, expressed interest in
putting a band together. Dawson had actually given up a career with the NSA to pursue his

music, but that dream had fallen by the wayside when he was forced to take a job to supplement
his income. As it turned out, not only had Dawson fallen in love with the bar where he worked,
but he’d fallen in love with the proprietress who owned it as well.
“Excellent,” Lacy grinned. “I hoped you’d come. I want to discuss a strategy for the soccer
tryouts this Saturday.”
Last year, Lacy and I had been pressured into coaching a ragtag group of girls who had never
played soccer after the woman who’d signed up to coach had to back out at the last minute. The
girls we inherited knew very little about soccer, and we knew that coaching the team was going
to be an uphill battle, but both Lacy’s twins, Mary and Meghan, and Colt’s niece, Mackey
Hudson, had wanted to play, so Lacy and I agreed to pitch in and do what we could. As expected,
we’d ended up getting slaughtered for the majority of the season, although we had somehow
managed to win our final game, which let us go out on a winner’s high.
The team should be more competitive this year. Although we’d lost a few of our team
members from the previous year, including our star player, Anna, who’d moved away after her
mother completed rehab and they went to live with Anna’s aunt, most of the girls were returning.
“We need to recruit four girls from the pool of new players,” Lacy said. “We’re lucky to have
as many returning as we do, but the four new players really are going to have a huge impact on
the overall performance of the team.”
“Do we get first choice since our team came in last place last year?” I asked.
“We do.”
“So we can grab the number one seed.”
Lacy nodded. “We can. The new girl in Mary’s class, Estella, has a strong leg. She’s played
before and is only participating in the draft because she’s new to our town and our soccer league.
I think she’ll be the number one pick overall. The problem is that Meghan’s best friend decided
to play this year, and Meghan has been begging me to pick her in the first round. Macy’s a good
kid with a great attitude and team spirit, but she’s never played before.”
“So the smart thing to do for the team as a whole would be to choose Estella in the first round
since she definitely won’t still be there for the second round, and then hope that Macy is still
there for the second round.”
“Exactly. But Meghan’s afraid that someone will grab Macy and she won’t be available as a
second-round pick since Macy’s so popular at school.”
I could see that the upcoming soccer draft was going to get trickier than I’d thought.
Lacy continued. “On the one hand, I did agree to coach in the first place so my girls could
have the experience of being on a team with their friends. If ensuring a pleasurable experience
for my girls is my priority, then I’d choose Macy right away. But on the other hand, my girls are
only part of a much larger team. A team that suffered through major losses all last season and
hung in there anyway. One could argue that those girls deserve to have a winning season this
year, and the best chance those kids have at winning is Estella.” She let out a slow breath. “What
am I going to do?”
“I’ll come over tonight with Colt, and you and I will look at all the girls who are trying out
and consider our options.”

Lacy looked relieved that the decision would be made by both of us as a team, taking some
of the responsibility off her shoulders.
Haven wandered back with a basket full of fresh lettuce, tomatoes, and other fruits and
veggies. Since I knew that Jeremy was waiting for the salad fixings, Haven and I said our
goodbyes to Lacy, and I promised to see her in a few hours.
“Lacy looked stressed when I walked up. Is everything okay?” Haven asked.
“Soccer tryouts are this Saturday.”
“Ah. I take it the two of you are going to coach again.”
“We are.”
Haven’s smile fell. “And your team is going to be bad again.”
“Actually,” I countered. “Our team should be very competitive this year. The problem Lacy’s
struggling with has to do with a conflict between doing the best thing for the team and the best
thing for Meghan.” I went on to explain the conflict.
Haven narrowed her gaze. “I see. That is a tough one. I’m not a parent, but I can see that
parenting is hard.”
“It definitely can be.”
“But you think it’s worth it. Right?”
That seemed like an odd question from my very single daughter by choice. “It is,” I
responded. “I didn’t have time to do much parenting with Johnathan, but I feel like I’m getting
my feet wet with Mackey.”
“You’re doing great with Mackey, and even though Bailey and I both came to you as
teenagers, you did pretty darn fantastic with us as well.”
I reached over and clasped Haven’s hand. “Being a friend and fill-in parent to you and Bailey
has truly been one of the very best things in my life.”
When we arrived at the inn, we found Jeremy, Bailey, Annabelle, Mackey, Hazel, and Danny
in the kitchen. Jeremy and Bailey were doing the prep work for dinner, while Annabelle, who
was fourteen and heading into high school, and Mackey, who was twelve and heading into
middle school, were keeping an eye on two-year-old Danny and twenty-month-old Hazel.
“Something smells good,” I said as I set the bag of produce I’d carried in on the kitchen
counter.
“I’m cooking a pork roast for tonight,” Jeremy informed me. “I was going to grill, but since
the forecast this morning predicted rain, I decided to go with an indoor dining option.”
“It doesn’t look like rain,” I commented.
“In this case, I think that the Channel Two weather girl was wrong,” Jeremy acknowledged.
“Of course, Danny woke up at five-thirty and wouldn’t go back to sleep. I didn’t want him to
wake Mylie since she hasn’t been sleeping well since entering her second trimester, so I took him
downstairs to watch the morning news with me. I was half asleep when the weather came on, so I
may have gotten it wrong. Maybe I should have grilled as I was originally going to do.”

“Mr. Baker from suite two came through a while ago and went on and on about how much he
loves pork roast, so I think your change in plan is going to make him happy at least,” Annabelle
said.
The inn was full to capacity and had been for the entire summer, which made juggling our
guests’ various personalities tricky at times. In this instance, we had an inn full of happy and
enthusiastic visitors, except for Mr. Baker, who seemed bent on finding fault with everything.
“If my pork roast can make Mr. Baker happy, then I guess the mix-up with the forecast will
have been a good thing,” Jeremy acknowledged. He looked at me. “Did you find the salad
dressing I asked about while you were at the farmers market?”
“I did, and the woman selling it assured me that it was made fresh this morning.”
“I have a new salad dressing I’d like to try sometime,” Haven said. “Maybe later in the week
or even next week. It’s slightly sweet and would go really well with the pear salad Georgia
occasionally makes.”
“Speaking of Georgia, did she leave already?” Georgia had been here with her seven-month-
old daughter, Charlee, when I’d left with Haven to head into town.
“You just missed her,” Jeremy answered my inquiry. “Tanner called, and she stepped outside
to take the call. When she came back in, she said she needed to leave.”
“Was everything okay?” I asked.
Jeremy answered. “I think so. She didn’t sound upset when she left. Just hurried. If I had to
guess, Tanner got home early from wherever he was today and called to let Georgia know.”
Maybe I’d call her once I got back to my cottage. Colt wouldn’t be home for another hour, so
I had plenty of time to check in with my best friend and get cleaned up to go to the Parkers’
house with Colt this evening.

Chapter 2

There were four members of the band Lonnie put together: Lonnie, Colt, Dawson, and a man
named Sully Sullivan. Sully, a retired high school principal, was new to the area, having moved
to Holiday Bay a couple of years ago to work on a novel he was writing. After moving to the
area, he was asked to fill in for the elementary school principal who had to take an unexpected
leave of absence, which was where I’d met him. Sully was a great guy and fantastic principal,
and I knew the kids would miss him when their old principal returned for the new school year
that started just after Labor Day. Of course, Mackey would be attending middle school this year,
so the change wouldn’t affect her the way it would the younger kids.
“Shelby, I’m so happy you came.” I leaned over and gave Shelby Morris, owner of the Bistro
at Holiday Bay, a hug. “It seems like forever since we had a chance to talk.”
“It’s been a busy summer,” Shelby agreed. “I hadn’t planned to come, but then Lonnie
mentioned to Dawson that you were coming with Colt, so I decided to call Lacy to ask if it was
okay for me to come with Dawson.”
“And of course, I said that I’d be delighted if she came,” Lacy responded.
I looked around the room. “Is Piper coming?”
Piper Fairchild had been dating Sully for about a year now, so since Shelby and I were both
here, I fully expected that Piper had been invited as well.
“After I spoke to Shelby, I called and invited Piper, but she has an event tonight,” Lacy
replied. “A wedding, I think.”
Piper was an event planner who owned and operated Piper Fairchild Events and shared office
space with her best friend, Paisley Bradford, owner of the local bakeshop in the courtyard.
Courtyard Bakery shared the courtyard with Firehouse Books, which I frequently visited to sign
copies of my books or drop off bookmarks, so I often stopped to visit Piper and Paisley when I
was in town. But it seemed that things had gotten away from me, and I hadn’t seen either friend
in months.

“I’m sorry Piper couldn’t make it, but I’m happy to hear that her business is doing so well,” I
said.
“She’s been busy all summer,” Shelby confirmed. “Almost as busy as the Bistro has been.”
“I’ve tried to pop in for lunch a couple of times this summer, and the line to be seated has
been out the door,” Lacy commented.
“If you’re in town and feel like grabbing something to eat or drink, give me a call. I’ll make
sure you get in,” Shelby promised.
“I hate to use my connections to jump the line. I’ll wait until after Labor Day, when things
slow down. I bet your staff is getting anxious for Labor Day as well.”
Shelby responded to Lacy’s statement. “I know my staff is overworked and exhausted, but I
think they also really appreciate the bump in income. If I polled my staff about the slow season,
I’m pretty sure they’d be divided between needing a day off and the desire to be able to live off
one salary rather than having multiple jobs as a lot of my waitstaff needs to do over the winter.”
“I heard you’re doing deliveries now,” I said. “That seems like a good idea.”
“Just for the summer, but it wasn’t my idea. A young woman, Callie Rosenthall, came to me
at the beginning of summer and pitched the idea of a delivery service. I wasn’t sure I wanted to
deal with all of that when she first came to me, especially given the parking nightmare this town
has during the summer. Callie explained that she had a plan to make deliveries to a limited area
via bicycle and wouldn’t need to worry about parking. She was willing to do it for tips plus a
small delivery charge the Bistro adds to the bill and collects from the customer, so I agreed to let
her give it a try.”
“And has it worked out?”
Shelby nodded in my direction. “It really has. Callie is such a sweet little thing, and her
customers love her. She has regulars she delivers to every day. I think part of the appeal is that
she’ll stop and talk to her regulars when she makes her delivery if she has time and isn’t stacked
up. A lot of the men and women she delivers to are shut-ins who look forward to her visit every
day.”
“That’s awesome, Shelby,” I said. “I’m really glad to hear things are working out for you and
your staff.”
“It has been nice to have a summer staff I can depend on. I’ve even been able to take some
time for myself and visit with my sisters while they’re in town.”
“I heard that Sierra and Sage are home for the summer,” Lacy said as she handed both Shelby
and me a glass of wine.
“It’s been really nice having them here.”
I first met Shelby Morris, Sierra Danielson, and Sage Wilson when they stayed at the inn
after they inherited a fortune from a grandmother they never even knew existed. The half-sisters,
who had the same dad but different moms, had never met their biological father or his family, so
it came as a complete surprise to them to learn that they not only had a grandmother but also
sisters.

The grandmother’s will stipulated that the sisters solve some puzzles as a team before they
could collect their inheritance, which included a bunch of cash and one-third of an ocean view
mansion. At first, I thought the terms of the will were crazy, but the requirement to work together
to receive their inheritance allowed the sisters to get to know each other, and they’ve been close
ever since.
“Sierra’s doing research this summer, and since she’s able to do it remotely, she’s locked
herself up in our grandmother’s old office,” Shelby continued. “Sage spent most of the spring
working on her formalwear line in Los Angeles and came to Maine to work on her outerwear
line this summer, although she doesn’t seem to have done much since she’s been here. At first, I
thought she was burned out and just needed to rest, but now I’m beginning to worry that
something’s wrong.”
“Does she seem ill?” Lacy asked.
“No,” Shelby answered. “Not ill. And not even depressed. It’s more like she just isn’t
herself.”
“Maybe she’s just burned out,” Lacy offered. “That woman has more irons in the fire than
anyone I’ve ever met.”
“Maybe,” Shelby said, although she didn’t look convinced. “It seems like she’s been a bit
perkier the past few days. She hasn’t really gone back to work, but she has read through a good
portion of the library that was left to us when we inherited the house. Maybe she really did need
some downtime. By the way,” Shelby added, “I’ve been meaning to ask how Mylie is doing. I
heard she’s pregnant and has been having a rough time.”
Shelby wasn’t wrong about that. “It does seem that this pregnancy has been hard on her,” I
confirmed. “She’s had nonstop morning sickness, but she’s at the point in the pregnancy where
that should start to ease up.”
“It sounds awful,” Shelby said. She looked at Lacy. “I can’t believe you did this six times.”
“Not six,” Lacy corrected. “Three. One set of triplets, one set of twins, and a single birth with
Maddie.”
“I guess that’s true, but even three pregnancies seem like three too many.”
I’d often wondered if Shelby and Dawson would ever get married and start a family. It
sounded like I had my answer.
“I know three pregnancies, or even one, sounds like a lot to go through just to have another
human who will demand all your attention and ensure that you never have another minute to
yourself for as long as you live. But there are a lot of really good reasons to push through the
morning sickness, weight gain, swollen ankles, and hemorrhoids,” Lacy assured Shelby.
Shelby made a face. “Such as?”
Lacy reached behind her and grabbed a framed photo from the shelf. The photo featured her
six children sitting at the table making Christmas ornaments last year. The boys, who were
thirteen at the time, were helping the girls, who ranged in age between seven and ten. They were
covered in glitter, but every one of those six children had a huge smile on their face.

“I guess that is pretty sweet,” Shelby admitted. “And I guess kids might be fun if you were
able to make it through the infant and toddler stage.”
“The infant and toddler stage is the best stage,” Lacy said, with a wisp of longing in her tone.
I knew that Lacy had been having a hard time with the fact that her babies were no longer babies,
but both she and Lonnie agreed that six was enough.
Shelby turned her attention to me. “I heard there are going to be a bunch of extra bedrooms
in the new house you and Colt are building. Any little Wilders in your future?”
“No,” I answered. “Colt and I agreed that we’re too old for that. But we have Mackey, and
we hope Tyler might come home for the summer if he has his own space.”
“Plus, you have Hazel, Danny, Charlee, and Mylie and Jeremy’s new baby whenever you get
the urge to rock someone,” Lacy reminded me.
“We have a lot of babies to dote on,” I agreed. “I’m very content with my diverse family by
choice.” Even as I said it, I wasn’t sure it was true, but if we don’t decide on a specific course of
action, sometimes fate decides for us. After losing Johnathan, I supposed I’d always assumed I’d
have another child one day, but the timing had never been right, and now I really was past my
child-rearing prime.
“Speaking of honorary family, I saw Haven at that new club down by the wharf a few nights
ago,” Shelby said. “She was with a guy. A very good-looking guy. Does she have a new
boyfriend?”
“No,” I answered. “At least not that she’s said. Haven’s an adult, and she comes and goes
without checking in with me, but she usually fills me in on the important stuff. Having a
boyfriend seems like something one would classify as important. Did you see her on a Tuesday
or Thursday?”
“I’m not sure which night it was.”
“Haven has cooking classes on Tuesday and Thursday evenings this summer, and sometimes
she goes out with some of the students from her class.”
“I guess she might have just been out with another student, and the topic of conversation
might have been cooking, but if you ask me, Haven and her cute date looked pretty cozy to just
be classmates.”
I decided not to respond to that. Haven was an adult and entitled to make her own decisions
and live her life as she chose, and discussing her behind her back made me uncomfortable. But
maybe I’d ask her about it if the opportunity presented itself. Haven was a mature young woman
and was more cautious than most. Since I’d never seen her date anyone since she’d lived with
me, I would be surprised to learn that she’d started dating and hadn’t mentioned it. Haven,
however, was the sort of person who kept her thoughts and emotions private. She was a hard
worker whose greatest inner need seemed to be to be useful and spent very little time on leisure
activities. Still, it would be normal for someone her age to develop romantic relationships.
Maybe I’d been so focused on my life since becoming engaged that I hadn’t even noticed that
Haven was undergoing important changes in her life as well. ...