Read Online Murder in the Rose Garden: A Scent with Love Cozy Mystery (Scent with Love Cozy Mysteries) by Tabitha Tate - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tabitha Tate
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in an alleyway between two large warehouse buildings, turned off the
lights and poured herself a cup of hot coffee from the thermos flask. The
industrial part of the harbor was quiet, which was a stark contrast to the busy
waterfront marina next to the hotel which was lined with sail boats, yachts,
rusty fishing boats and restaurant patrons enjoying an after-dinner stroll
through the marina.
By ten p.m.
Beth was getting impatient—there was no sign of a drug boat and the five cups
of coffee she had drunk meant that she was desperate to find a bathroom. Beth
scanned the dock for any sign of activity but it was just as quiet as it had
been for the last three and a half hours. Beth couldn’t hold on any longer so
she got out of the car and went in search of a toilet.
The first
two doors Beth tried were locked. The pressure on her bladder was growing more
intense by the minute and she was convinced that there would be a toilet inside
one of the warehouse buildings. She was in a hurry to get back to her car, in
case she missed the drug boat. Shit, she thought, I need to make this
quick. She tried a third door at the back of the building; it was also
locked. Beth was frustrated. She looked at the rickety wooden door, which
appeared to have grown soft, and decided to give it a kick. Her foot landed on
the door with a large thud. Her leg hurt but she did notice the door had moved
an inch. She had to give it two more kicks before the door burst open. Beth was
impressed with herself. Wow, who says stuff like this only happens in the
movies?
Beth entered
a dark narrow hallway at the back of the building. The sound of running water was
audible in the distance and there was a dank smell in the air. Beth headed off
towards the sound of water, judging each step carefully in order to avoid
stepping in the dark gaping holes in the floor. Thin slivers of light from the
security lights outside streamed in through the boarded-up window boards and
Beth could make out a restroom sign on a door a few feet away.
“Thank
Goodness,” she whispered under her breath. The toilet was not very clean and
the washbasin was covered in a thick layer of dust. Beth finished up, washed
her hands and dried them on the back of her pants before heading back out into
the hallway.
She was
halfway down the corridor when she heard the sound of voices coming from the
eastern wing of the building. The knot in her stomach turned to panic when she
heard the sound of a roller door, the screech of tires and the sound of a
woman’s voice followed by a gunshot. Her first instinct was to hot foot it out
of there as fast as her comfy sneakers would take her but a little voice inside
kept telling her that she had better go and see if anyone had been injured. Beth
worried that Piper Pots may have been shot—if so she would need urgent medical
assistance.
Beth sprang
into action. She ran down the hallway, darting and jumping to avoid the holes
in the floor. She ran towards the part of the building that the gunshot had
sounded from, trying to stay in the shadows to avoid being seen. At the end of
the hallway she saw a large open storage space. She slowed down and crept
behind a large container to assess the scene playing out in front of her.
A thin woman
in her mid-twenties with a head of wild curly blonde hair stood chatting to a
plump older woman with a mop of bright red hair as three young men in black
clothes unpacked black plastic bags from a white minivan with the words “Al’s
Diner” written on the side in bold lettering. Beth gasped. She did not
recognize the young woman with the blonde curly hair but she had no doubt as to
the identity of the second woman. She recognized Allison Landon’s plump stature
and red hair immediately and the words “Al’s Diner” on the side of the minivan
were a dead giveaway. What on earth was Allison Landon doing in a deserted
warehouse at the harbor at this time of night?
Beth scanned
the floor and she could see no
lights and poured herself a cup of hot coffee from the thermos flask. The
industrial part of the harbor was quiet, which was a stark contrast to the busy
waterfront marina next to the hotel which was lined with sail boats, yachts,
rusty fishing boats and restaurant patrons enjoying an after-dinner stroll
through the marina.
By ten p.m.
Beth was getting impatient—there was no sign of a drug boat and the five cups
of coffee she had drunk meant that she was desperate to find a bathroom. Beth
scanned the dock for any sign of activity but it was just as quiet as it had
been for the last three and a half hours. Beth couldn’t hold on any longer so
she got out of the car and went in search of a toilet.
The first
two doors Beth tried were locked. The pressure on her bladder was growing more
intense by the minute and she was convinced that there would be a toilet inside
one of the warehouse buildings. She was in a hurry to get back to her car, in
case she missed the drug boat. Shit, she thought, I need to make this
quick. She tried a third door at the back of the building; it was also
locked. Beth was frustrated. She looked at the rickety wooden door, which
appeared to have grown soft, and decided to give it a kick. Her foot landed on
the door with a large thud. Her leg hurt but she did notice the door had moved
an inch. She had to give it two more kicks before the door burst open. Beth was
impressed with herself. Wow, who says stuff like this only happens in the
movies?
Beth entered
a dark narrow hallway at the back of the building. The sound of running water was
audible in the distance and there was a dank smell in the air. Beth headed off
towards the sound of water, judging each step carefully in order to avoid
stepping in the dark gaping holes in the floor. Thin slivers of light from the
security lights outside streamed in through the boarded-up window boards and
Beth could make out a restroom sign on a door a few feet away.
“Thank
Goodness,” she whispered under her breath. The toilet was not very clean and
the washbasin was covered in a thick layer of dust. Beth finished up, washed
her hands and dried them on the back of her pants before heading back out into
the hallway.
She was
halfway down the corridor when she heard the sound of voices coming from the
eastern wing of the building. The knot in her stomach turned to panic when she
heard the sound of a roller door, the screech of tires and the sound of a
woman’s voice followed by a gunshot. Her first instinct was to hot foot it out
of there as fast as her comfy sneakers would take her but a little voice inside
kept telling her that she had better go and see if anyone had been injured. Beth
worried that Piper Pots may have been shot—if so she would need urgent medical
assistance.
Beth sprang
into action. She ran down the hallway, darting and jumping to avoid the holes
in the floor. She ran towards the part of the building that the gunshot had
sounded from, trying to stay in the shadows to avoid being seen. At the end of
the hallway she saw a large open storage space. She slowed down and crept
behind a large container to assess the scene playing out in front of her.
A thin woman
in her mid-twenties with a head of wild curly blonde hair stood chatting to a
plump older woman with a mop of bright red hair as three young men in black
clothes unpacked black plastic bags from a white minivan with the words “Al’s
Diner” written on the side in bold lettering. Beth gasped. She did not
recognize the young woman with the blonde curly hair but she had no doubt as to
the identity of the second woman. She recognized Allison Landon’s plump stature
and red hair immediately and the words “Al’s Diner” on the side of the minivan
were a dead giveaway. What on earth was Allison Landon doing in a deserted
warehouse at the harbor at this time of night?
Beth scanned
the floor and she could see no
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