Read Online A Frozen Scoop of Murder: A Cozy Mystery (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book 1) by Constance Barker - Free Book Online

 
     
    I heard the tinkle of the bell as a customer entered my ice cream Shoppe. I’d only been open three months, but business was booming. Of course, it was spring and who doesn’t want a scoop of almond fudge or chocolate mint to cool their senses. I hoped winter in the heart of Georgia wouldn’t dull my customer’s palate for cold concoctions.
     
    Previously I worked a dead end job as a secretary for a technology firm. Not only was it dull but it felt like it was sucking my soul right out of my body with each type written report. I wanted to be my own boss, but being a divorcee with no other support system…well, it seemed like a pipe dream. Until the day I decided to open my own ice cream Shoppe, The Frozen Scoop. Not only could you get ice cream, but frozen drinks and ice cream cakes as well. What I hadn’t counted on was the social aspect of the Shoppe. It was a meeting place where customers gathered to talk about the goings on in the town. Okay, it was a gossip hive, and oh, how I loved to listen and join into the conversations.
     
    My friend Stormi worked as an employee. She decorated the ice cream cakes and helped with the nightly cleanup. My other friend, Paige, was married with a 16-year-old daughter. She didn’t work since her husband made enough to support three families, so she’d come into the shop to help during the busy periods.
     
    I walked from the back of the store to the front to greet my customers and there she stood. Miss Greta Haglemier. She was the town snoot, snob, witch…well, you get the picture. Many people used more crass terms to describe her, including Stormi. She never married, although she was seeing a man of some importance, at least that’s what the gossip hounds reported.
     
    Miss Greta was the best at everything, according to her. Every year she won the grand champion ribbons for her peach and apple pies, except for last year, which would live on in history as the day Miss G came undone. Oh and she would win for her prized red roses as well. However, if you believed the whispers, Greta paid off the judges. Not sure if that’s true or not, as her roses were the most beautiful I’d seen. Never tasted her pies however. She treated her pies like precious gems. The tasty treats could only pass the lips of someone worthy, like the judges or her dearest friend Trixie, a widowed lady who accompanied her today.
     
    “Hello ladies,” I happily greeted the two women. Miss Greta wore her customary scowl accompanied by an oversized multicolored blouse and a red skirt. She was rather rotund, but that never slowed her down. Honestly, I wouldn’t win a foot race with her if the finish line were rimmed with bakery goodies. She wore her brown hair in a bun and her beady brown eyes bore into my flesh.
     
    Miss Trixie was the opposite of Miss Haglemier. Trim with short grey hair, she wore a fashionable taupe pantsuit with a brandy colored blouse. Trixie was steak to Greta’s ham loaf. How the heck these two were friends was beyond my comprehension.
     
    Trixie was a widow twice now and both times her husbands left her with hefty life insurance policies, the last one rumored to be in the one million dollar range. Yet, you’d never know it. While she lived in a nice home, every hair in place, and weekly manicures, she never put on airs. She was a treat to be around, unlike her best buddy Greta.
     
    Greta never married and she worked as a tax preparer in the spring. She lived in a cottage where she grew up. Her mother left it to her along with one car and a sizeable bank account that allowed her to remain largely unemployed until the social security checks would start rolling in next year. She dyed her grey hair an auburn color, but the cheap store bought color appeared odd against her stark white skin. She should have gone the same route as Trixie and left her hair au natural but not Greta. In fact she didn’t like Trixie’s hair or clothes and wasn’t afraid to let her and everyone