Read Online Murder At The Fete: A Lady Margaret Turnbull Culinary Cozy Mystery (Culinary Mystery Books Book 1) by C T Mitchell - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: C T Mitchell
Tags: Murder at the Fete
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high school.
Tom’s best friend was killed, and it triggered something in him that took
precedence over what he thought would be a future as a fisherman like his
father. As it turned out, fishing was how he spent his downtime. He had the
uncanny knack to balance work and family life, which so many people lack, and
was well known in town for being a great family man. He spent almost as much
time with his family as he did in his work, and in his moments alone, took to
the outdoors for solace. Maggie always imagined he spent his off days fishing
and contemplating revenge for her spoiling his arrests.
Once, when he was certain he’d caught the killer of
Julie Duncan, a primary school aged girl, it was Maggie’s eye for detail that
nailed what seemed like a random passer-by as her killer. Tom never would have
even suspected; in spite of his thorough yet traditional investigation. Once
again Tom’s inner anxiety was heightened; at least this time he could hide it
from prying eyes.
“Morning!” Melissa Shepherd, the baker’s daughter sang
as she waltzed through the doors of the bed and breakfast. She was here to do
two things: break Maggie’s train of thought and deliver the morning’s
pastries. Guests at Lawler’s Loft looked forwarded to their early morning
croissants and Danish pastries; something the guesthouse had become known for
with travelers who were food connoisseurs.
Maggie smiled and threw her arms around her, as she did
everyone who walked through the doors. Maggie maybe a Lady in title but she was
no stuffy aristocrat, rather a warm and endearing person that people naturally
gravitated to. “Morning, dear! You know where they go.” She pointed toward
the kitchen and followed Melissa through the foyer. “How’s Constable
Greenaway?”
Everyone knew Daniel Greenaway, the town constable, was
in love with Melissa. And why shouldn’t he be? She was as sweet as they came,
very pretty in a plain sort of way, and as quiet as a mouse. Perhaps self-imposed
as Melissa, born and bred in the district, had never ventured far from its
borders and was not aware of worldly delights that lay beyond. It embarrassed
Melissa when Maggie mentioned his name. The poor girl was smitten with the
constable, but was too naïve to really think he fancied her back, and Maggie
teased her endlessly about it.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” she answered, her cheeks
reddening as she hurried to the kitchen. “He came by the bakery this morning
and looked well enough.”
“I’m sure he did, dear.” Maggie pulled the dish towel
from her shoulder and popped Melissa with it. As a woman who had her fair share
of male suitors of the years, Maggie knew that Constable Greenaway had more
than strawberry tarts on his mind whenever he visited the bakery.
If she was any good at setting people up, she would
make it her hobby to get them together. They’d be perfect for each other, as
the constable was also a quiet sort of fellow. He didn’t speak unless he was
spoken too, and was generally revered as a vanilla kind of gentleman. He
wasn’t much to look at, Maggie thought, but when he was around Melissa his eyes
lit up like a schoolboy in a candy shop and it was adorable.
****
“Are you going to the charity fete?” Melissa asked,
changing the subject.
“Well what else will there be to do in this town next Saturday,
dear? Of course I’m going. I’ll bet the constable will be there, too,” she
teased.
“Alright alright! That’s enough out of you. What are
you, my grandmother?”
“Is your father ready to become mildly rich with that
prize money?” Maggie knew when to change the subject, and it made her giddy
thinking that old man Shepherd would finally be acknowledged for his wares.
The man knew his way around the kitchen better than any female Maggie had ever
met, and she’d been all over the world. No one, however, held a
Tom’s best friend was killed, and it triggered something in him that took
precedence over what he thought would be a future as a fisherman like his
father. As it turned out, fishing was how he spent his downtime. He had the
uncanny knack to balance work and family life, which so many people lack, and
was well known in town for being a great family man. He spent almost as much
time with his family as he did in his work, and in his moments alone, took to
the outdoors for solace. Maggie always imagined he spent his off days fishing
and contemplating revenge for her spoiling his arrests.
Once, when he was certain he’d caught the killer of
Julie Duncan, a primary school aged girl, it was Maggie’s eye for detail that
nailed what seemed like a random passer-by as her killer. Tom never would have
even suspected; in spite of his thorough yet traditional investigation. Once
again Tom’s inner anxiety was heightened; at least this time he could hide it
from prying eyes.
“Morning!” Melissa Shepherd, the baker’s daughter sang
as she waltzed through the doors of the bed and breakfast. She was here to do
two things: break Maggie’s train of thought and deliver the morning’s
pastries. Guests at Lawler’s Loft looked forwarded to their early morning
croissants and Danish pastries; something the guesthouse had become known for
with travelers who were food connoisseurs.
Maggie smiled and threw her arms around her, as she did
everyone who walked through the doors. Maggie maybe a Lady in title but she was
no stuffy aristocrat, rather a warm and endearing person that people naturally
gravitated to. “Morning, dear! You know where they go.” She pointed toward
the kitchen and followed Melissa through the foyer. “How’s Constable
Greenaway?”
Everyone knew Daniel Greenaway, the town constable, was
in love with Melissa. And why shouldn’t he be? She was as sweet as they came,
very pretty in a plain sort of way, and as quiet as a mouse. Perhaps self-imposed
as Melissa, born and bred in the district, had never ventured far from its
borders and was not aware of worldly delights that lay beyond. It embarrassed
Melissa when Maggie mentioned his name. The poor girl was smitten with the
constable, but was too naïve to really think he fancied her back, and Maggie
teased her endlessly about it.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” she answered, her cheeks
reddening as she hurried to the kitchen. “He came by the bakery this morning
and looked well enough.”
“I’m sure he did, dear.” Maggie pulled the dish towel
from her shoulder and popped Melissa with it. As a woman who had her fair share
of male suitors of the years, Maggie knew that Constable Greenaway had more
than strawberry tarts on his mind whenever he visited the bakery.
If she was any good at setting people up, she would
make it her hobby to get them together. They’d be perfect for each other, as
the constable was also a quiet sort of fellow. He didn’t speak unless he was
spoken too, and was generally revered as a vanilla kind of gentleman. He
wasn’t much to look at, Maggie thought, but when he was around Melissa his eyes
lit up like a schoolboy in a candy shop and it was adorable.
****
“Are you going to the charity fete?” Melissa asked,
changing the subject.
“Well what else will there be to do in this town next Saturday,
dear? Of course I’m going. I’ll bet the constable will be there, too,” she
teased.
“Alright alright! That’s enough out of you. What are
you, my grandmother?”
“Is your father ready to become mildly rich with that
prize money?” Maggie knew when to change the subject, and it made her giddy
thinking that old man Shepherd would finally be acknowledged for his wares.
The man knew his way around the kitchen better than any female Maggie had ever
met, and she’d been all over the world. No one, however, held a
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