Read Online Pink Velvet Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 9 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) by Carol Durand, Summer Prescott - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Carol Durand, Summer Prescott
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knowing that
the girl who worked at the ice cream shop just happened to be an honor student,
he wrote a misspelled message in red crayon on the wall to point the
investigation in her direction so that he’d have the freedom to steal artwork
for his business without scrutiny from the police,” she explained.
“When
the Home Ec teacher’s house was robbed after her murder, it was art that was
taken,” Chas nodded.
“And
my grandmother’s painting is what was taken from here,” she reminded him.
“But
what about the dog toys, and your clothes?”
“Carlton
has Chauncey, so that would explain the dog toys. The clothes…who knows, maybe
he’s just creepy,” she shuddered.
A
light dawned in Chas’s eyes. “Or maybe he’s holding Donna Chesman captive,” he
proposed. “I need to make some phone calls. Pick up what you need and head back
to my house, I’ll catch up with you when I know what’s going on,” he
instructed. As she turned to go upstairs, he caught her by the hand, bringing
her in close. “Hey,” he said softly.
“What?”
was her breathless reply.
“You’re
pretty terrific, you know that?” he smiled tenderly, brushing the back of his
hand along her jaw and kissing her.
“Must
be the company I keep,” she grinned and danced away, heading up the stairs. “Go
solve a murder!” she called out on her way up.
Chapter 16
“What
have we got?” Chas asked the lab tech that handed him the reports.
“It
all checks out, Detective,” the young woman replied. “The prints on the glass
that you provided after the perp drank from it at the Gladstone house, match
the ones at Mrs. Dowler’s home, Miss Gladstone’s home, and on the windows at
the homes on the north side that reported a Peeping Tom. The scrapings from the
Gladstone house are definitely red crayon, and an officer picked up Mr. Dobbs’
suit from the dry cleaner this morning before it was cleaned, and the substance
on the jacket was determined to be the same color of red crayon,” she said,
reading from the report.
Chas
nodded. “And the autopsy?”
“Cause
of death was determined to be poison. Apparently the killer sprinkled it onto
the cake that the victim consumed.”
The
detective digested the information, tying up any loose threads. “Anything found
at Donna Chesman’s house that would indicate her whereabouts?” he asked.
“No,
but officers did find a box of crayons with the red one missing.”
“Okay,
thanks,” Beckett dialed a number on his phone and turned away, giving the tech
her cue to leave. “Hello, this is Chas Beckett, I’m going to need a warrant.”
When
Carlton Dobbs was arrested without incident in the mayor’s dining room, Chas
and a team of officers went to his opulent historical home on the north side,
and used the murderer’s keys to open the front door. Upon entering, the
detective was shocked to see Donna Chesman reclined on a sofa that seemed to be
the only piece of furniture in a house stacked with paintings and sculptures,
watching TV like a kid on summer vacation.
“Miss
Chesman, are you here of your own free will?” Beckett asked, astonished that he
had not found the teen bound and gagged in the basement.
“I’m
in trouble, aren’t I?” the girl asked, eyes wide.
“So
it would seem,” Chas answered grimly. “Come with me.”
After
booking the young lady who had the misfortune to hook up with a charming gentleman
who promised her a world of travel and riches if she kept her mouth shut,
Detective Beckett went home to tell Missy that her deductions at the scene of
the crime had been instrumental in solving the case. When he walked into the
living room however, he found her so peacefully asleep, tousled blonde curls
hiding her face, and dogs curled up on the floor below her, he couldn’t bring
himself to disturb the peaceful scene.
Chapter 17
“Well,
with the groom in jail, it looks like I won’t have to plan Priscilla’s wedding
after all,” Missy observed, more
the girl who worked at the ice cream shop just happened to be an honor student,
he wrote a misspelled message in red crayon on the wall to point the
investigation in her direction so that he’d have the freedom to steal artwork
for his business without scrutiny from the police,” she explained.
“When
the Home Ec teacher’s house was robbed after her murder, it was art that was
taken,” Chas nodded.
“And
my grandmother’s painting is what was taken from here,” she reminded him.
“But
what about the dog toys, and your clothes?”
“Carlton
has Chauncey, so that would explain the dog toys. The clothes…who knows, maybe
he’s just creepy,” she shuddered.
A
light dawned in Chas’s eyes. “Or maybe he’s holding Donna Chesman captive,” he
proposed. “I need to make some phone calls. Pick up what you need and head back
to my house, I’ll catch up with you when I know what’s going on,” he
instructed. As she turned to go upstairs, he caught her by the hand, bringing
her in close. “Hey,” he said softly.
“What?”
was her breathless reply.
“You’re
pretty terrific, you know that?” he smiled tenderly, brushing the back of his
hand along her jaw and kissing her.
“Must
be the company I keep,” she grinned and danced away, heading up the stairs. “Go
solve a murder!” she called out on her way up.
Chapter 16
“What
have we got?” Chas asked the lab tech that handed him the reports.
“It
all checks out, Detective,” the young woman replied. “The prints on the glass
that you provided after the perp drank from it at the Gladstone house, match
the ones at Mrs. Dowler’s home, Miss Gladstone’s home, and on the windows at
the homes on the north side that reported a Peeping Tom. The scrapings from the
Gladstone house are definitely red crayon, and an officer picked up Mr. Dobbs’
suit from the dry cleaner this morning before it was cleaned, and the substance
on the jacket was determined to be the same color of red crayon,” she said,
reading from the report.
Chas
nodded. “And the autopsy?”
“Cause
of death was determined to be poison. Apparently the killer sprinkled it onto
the cake that the victim consumed.”
The
detective digested the information, tying up any loose threads. “Anything found
at Donna Chesman’s house that would indicate her whereabouts?” he asked.
“No,
but officers did find a box of crayons with the red one missing.”
“Okay,
thanks,” Beckett dialed a number on his phone and turned away, giving the tech
her cue to leave. “Hello, this is Chas Beckett, I’m going to need a warrant.”
When
Carlton Dobbs was arrested without incident in the mayor’s dining room, Chas
and a team of officers went to his opulent historical home on the north side,
and used the murderer’s keys to open the front door. Upon entering, the
detective was shocked to see Donna Chesman reclined on a sofa that seemed to be
the only piece of furniture in a house stacked with paintings and sculptures,
watching TV like a kid on summer vacation.
“Miss
Chesman, are you here of your own free will?” Beckett asked, astonished that he
had not found the teen bound and gagged in the basement.
“I’m
in trouble, aren’t I?” the girl asked, eyes wide.
“So
it would seem,” Chas answered grimly. “Come with me.”
After
booking the young lady who had the misfortune to hook up with a charming gentleman
who promised her a world of travel and riches if she kept her mouth shut,
Detective Beckett went home to tell Missy that her deductions at the scene of
the crime had been instrumental in solving the case. When he walked into the
living room however, he found her so peacefully asleep, tousled blonde curls
hiding her face, and dogs curled up on the floor below her, he couldn’t bring
himself to disturb the peaceful scene.
Chapter 17
“Well,
with the groom in jail, it looks like I won’t have to plan Priscilla’s wedding
after all,” Missy observed, more
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