Winter Festival: The Ozarks Cozy Mystery Series

Book 6: The Ozarks Cozy Mystery Series

by Dianne Harman

Genres: Mystery; Cozy Mystery

Synopsis

"Winter Festival" is a captivating tale that weaves together the strands of loss, love, and a lingering mystery. Della, the protagonist, is haunted by the memory of her late husband, Seth, which leads to a surreal encounter with him in the form of a ghost in a dream, and it appears to her as if he never left. He warns her of impending danger and insists she keep Bryce, a close FBI friend of his, nearby—a request that tangles the past with the present.

As Della navigates the complexities of her emotions and the mystery surrounding Seth's message, she finds herself at the center of another troubling puzzle—the death of Clint Rogers, the chairman of the Winter Festival, a huge event in Clover, the small Ozark town where Della lives. Clint, known for his dislike of guns, is found dead in what initially appears to be a suicide. However, as Della delves deeper into the facts surrounding his death, the truth becomes murkier. Was Clint's death really self-inflicted, or is there a more sinister force at play in the seemingly tranquil town of Clover?

Balancing her personal grief and the growing sense of unease, Della becomes an unwitting detective, piecing together clues that lead her through a labyrinth of relationships, secrets, and hidden motives. From conversations with Clint's grieving family to interactions with his ex-wife and contentious Winter Festival committee members, Della uncovers a tapestry of small-town intrigue and resentments.

"Winter Festival" is more than a simple whodunit. It's a story of how the past holds onto us, how the unseen threads of our connections shape our present, and how sometimes, the most significant mysteries are the ones that reside within the human heart.

Release date: January 30, 2024

Print pages: 212

Sample

CHAPTER ONE She was so cold. That was the only thing that kept going through Della’s mind, how cold she was. Walking through her darkened house, she rubbed her hands together, hoping to warm them. Why was she so cold? She tugged her cardigan tightly around her body and slipped her hands up into the sleeves, stretching the maroon sweater material to suit her needs. She took a few steps but then realized she was barefoot. No wonder her feet were cold. Taking a few more steps, she began to search the house, looking for the source of the cold air while at the same time looking for her house shoes. Maybe she should put on a pair of socks while she was at it. Crossing the living room, she checked the windows to make sure they were all closed up tight. It had been warm recently and she’d had a few of them open. But now this cold snap had her shutting everything up tight to hold in what warmth there was in the house. Why wasn’t the furnace working? She continued to walk from room to room, looking for the source of the cold but couldn’t find it. All the windows were closed, every door shut tight. Had she accidentally turned on the air conditioner instead of the furnace? Eventually she found her socks and shoes by her bed, so she slipped them on and continued her search. She crossed the hall to the spare bedroom, sure that she must have missed a window in there. It was the only thing that made sense. But when she flipped the light on and stepped into the room, she found it just as still and cold as every other room. She turned around and walked back to the hall, flipping the light off as she went. When she got back in the hallway a shaft of light stretching down the hallway floor caught her attention. Following its path, she saw that the door to the attic was partially open, and a light was streaming through the opening. “I don’t remember going up there,” she said to herself. She was pretty sure she hadn’t been up in the attic since she and Bryce Summers had gone up there so they could talk about her deceased husband, Seth. Even after all this time, thinking about her late husband put an ache in her chest that made it hard for her to breathe, although somehow she managed to find enough air. As she crept toward the attic door, she wondered if her missing Seth had caused her to sleepwalk and head up to his office which was located in the attic. That was the only explanation, right? The door creaked as she pulled it open far enough for her to walk through and then she stepped inside. The first thing she noticed was that it was warmer as she climbed the stairs to Seth’s old attic office. There was some soft music playing too, like when he’d be up there working. As she cleared the stairs, she was surprised to see everything just as it used to be. No stacks of plastic totes and storage boxes. No empty shelves. Everything was as it had been. Her breath caught in her throat when the desk chair spun around and Seth was seated in it, smiling at her with his glasses, like always, perched on top of his head. “Hey, baby,” he said with a smile that made her feel like she’d swallowed a whole cluster of butterflies before walking up the stairs. “Seth,” she gasped, her words almost catching in her throat. As he continued to grin at her, he slid the chair back and stood up. “You haven’t forgotten about me already, have you?” he asked playfully as he rounded his desk. “Never.” She could feel emotions welling up inside her, threatening to choke her. Had it all been a dream? “It wasn’t a dream,” he said somberly. She hadn’t realized she’d spoken the words as he leaned back against the front of his desk. His bottom barely resting on the edge of the desk. “And we need to talk.” She walked over to him, her hands reaching for the flannel shirt he was wearing over a white cotton tee. She tugged on the material, feeling it slip through her fingers. “About what?” she asked. She couldn’t stop marveling over the fact that he was here. He said it hadn’t been a dream, but she must be having a nightmare. Because Seth was here, standing right in front of her as if nothing had happened. She ran her hand down his chest and shook her head. “It was so real,” she murmured to herself. Seth took her hands in his. “That’s because it was, love. I need you to listen to me because I don’t know how long I have.” That made her look up into his eyes, searching them. “What do you mean?” “You’re in danger. I’m so sorry, it’s my fault. But I’m trying to make it right.” He shook his head as he ran his thumbs over the backs of her hands. “That’s why I’m here.” She found herself looking at every detail of his face. The fine lines around his eyes, the little scar on his upper lip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “Keep Bryce close by,” he said urgently. “I’m glad you’re having him stay at the house, but don’t push away his help. He needs to be with you, Della. Do you understand?” She nodded, trying to grasp what she was being told. “But, wait…” she began, realizing that Bryce was from her dream. “He needs to be by your side,” he insisted again. “Let him in, Della.” She frowned, still searching his face. “But you…” He shook his head as if frustrated. “I can’t protect you anymore, but he can.” Suddenly, it felt as though something was pulling her backward. As if invisible hands were tugging her away. She shivered as the cold began to seep in again. “Seth?” she asked as his hand slipped from hers. “I love you, Della,” he said softly, sadness filling his eyes. “You deserve to be happy. You know that, right?” “Seth!” she cried out, reaching for him. “Be careful, Della. But also be happy.” He watched her being pulled away as if his heart was breaking, but he didn’t move to stop her. “Seth, help!” she cried out again, this time in a much louder voice. “Please.” “You have to wake up, Della. Wake up,” he said gently. “What?” she questioned as she felt hands on her arms. “Della, wake up. It’s just a dream.” Della's eyes flew open to see Bryce, fully dressed, standing next to her bed and staring down at her, concern lining his face. “Are you okay?” he asked. “It sounded like you were having a nightmare. I heard you shout Seth’s name.” Della looked around the room and saw her big St. Bernard dog, Moose, watching nearby as if he too had been worried. “Yeah, sorry,” she said as she sat up in bed. She rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?” “It’s 5:00 in the morning,” he said softly. She looked over at him. “Did I wake you up?” She would never forgive herself if she started making him lose sleep over her stupid dreams. “No, I was already up. I couldn’t sleep,” he said as he searched her face. After a moment he said, “You in the mood for some breakfast? I’ll cook.” Della had to admit that a breakfast she didn’t have to cook sounded like an amazing idea. “Sure. Just let me get dressed.” He nodded. “I’ll go get started on it. Take your time.” He stood up and called for Moose before heading back out into the hall and down the stairs. Della climbed out of bed and quickly made herself halfway presentable. Running a brush through her hair and washing her face made her feel ten times better, but the chill she’d felt in her dream seemed to linger. It might have been the cold leeching in from outside, since, according to her phone, the temperature was only fifteen degrees outside. But she knew it was more than that. This dream hadn’t felt like the other dreams she normally had. This one had somehow felt… real. Della shook her head as she headed out into the hall. She knew the dream wasn’t real, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still lingering in her thoughts, the same as the chill was. Rubbing her hands together as she walked down the stairs, she finally started to feel as though she was warming up. Her toes were no longer feeling borderline numb, and she was no longer shivering. But Seth’s voice still lingered in her mind. “Do you need to go outside?” she heard Bryce ask Moose. He’d quickly learned Moose’s schedule when he’d moved into the guest bedroom in order to help protect her. Not that she really thought she needed to be protected. She’d been caught up in the fear at first, and had asked him to stay with her after they learned she was a target for murder. The same person who killed her husband, Seth, in order to keep their secrets quiet, was now coming after Della in order to do the same to her. She didn’t know what they thought she knew, but it had shaken her when she’d found out she was a potential murder target. Now, as the days had worn on, she wasn’t as jumpy as she’d been at first. If she were being completely honest, she was starting to feel as though she’d overreacted. The only thing keeping her from feeling like a complete idiot from the lack of danger was the fact that both Bryce and Sheriff Metcalf had felt the same way. So at least she hadn’t been too dramatic at the time, and if she had been, she was in good company. Bryce heard her approach as he let Moose out the back door and looked up. “Hey,” he said with a bright smile. “How are you feeling?” “Better,” she admitted as she leaned against the wide-open doorway to the kitchen. He nodded as if that pleased him and turned back to the stove. “I’m making biscuits and gravy. I hope that’s okay. It’s one of the few things I know how to make.” “That’s perfect,” she said as she went to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup. As she went to the fridge, she said, “I’m really sorry I disturbed you this morning.” His head whipped around to look at her. “You have nothing to apologize for. Besides, I was already awake, remember?” “I know,” she muttered as she poured some cream in her coffee. “But I still feel like I should apologize.” “Think nothing of it,” he said with a wave as he turned back to his gravy to give it a little stir. Della watched him working at the stove and smiled to herself. She and Bryce had become good friends since he’d come to Clover, the small town in the Ozark Mountains where Della lived, but living together had somehow deepened their friendship in a much faster way. Of course, living with someone did that, but it felt a little different than that. Living together brought a familiarity that was something like family. But even that description didn’t seem correct. “Would you get a hot pad out, so I have somewhere to put the biscuits?” he asked as he continued to stir the gravy. “Sure,” she responded, glad to have something to do. After pulling open the drawer where she kept the hot pads, she tossed a few on the counter just as the oven timer went off. They worked together to get the meal finished and their plates prepared just as Moose scratched at the back door to be let inside. Once he was in and fed, they sat down and began to eat. It took a couple of mouthfuls before Della noticed that the gravy was different and familiar all at the same time. She paused and looked down at it. “This gravy…” she began. Bryce nodded as he took a bite. “Seth taught me to make it this way.” Her heart stuttered in her chest. She’d never known anyone else that added both sage and maple syrup to their sausage before turning it into gravy. It gave it a certain flavor that she’d never tasted anywhere else. “It tastes just like his,” she said softly. Bryce smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Once she’d made the connection, Della found herself savoring every bite. Soaking up the feeling of tasting something so familiar while having a man around that she trusted. Having company and the companionship that was so familiar was like a cozy pair of socks. It might be small, but it warmed her to her core. “I dreamed about him,” she found herself saying. Bryce became still and looked up with a question in his eyes as she said, “Seth. I dreamed about him.” He just looked at her as he chewed, not pushing her to tell him more than she wanted to, but letting her know he was listening if she felt like talking. “At first, I was cold,” she began. She went on to tell him about walking through the house and finding him in his office like always. How he’d apologized and said she was in danger and to keep Bryce close. “Do you usually have dreams about him?” he asked gently. She shook her head. “No, not like this one,” she admitted. He nodded. “I mean, it could have been your subconscious,” he said easily as he finished the last bite on his plate. “Or it could have been Seth trying to warn you.” “I don’t know if I believe in ghosts,” she said, but she didn’t know if she believed those words as they crossed her lips. They sounded hollow, as if she were trying to convince herself. “I don’t know if I do or not,” Bryce admitted. “But I have seen some strange stuff in my day. Enough that I don’t question things that seem like signs. Plus, if anyone was going to come back from the grave to protect someone, it would have been Seth for you.” He gave her a look that was so gentle she had to look away. “I don’t know,” she said hesitantly. “I do,” he said with a nod. “Was there anything else?” Della shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She paused. “I mean, he said he wanted me to be happy.” She shrugged. “Of course he does,” he said. “And he wants to see you safe. Sounds like he’s making sure I’m holding up my end of our promise.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Don’t worry, man. I’m doing my best down here. You just keep a lookout from wherever you are.” Della could almost swear she heard Seth chuckle.