A Pumpkin Spice Killing Read online

  A Pumpkin Spice Killing

  By Lynn Cahoon

  The Farm-to-Fork Mysteries

  Killer Comfort Food

  Deep Fried Revenge

  One Potato, Two Potato, Dead

  Killer Green Tomatoes

  Who Moved My Goat Cheese?

  Novellas

  A Pumpkin Spice Killing

  Penned In

  Have a Deadly New Year

  The Tourist Trap Mysteries

  Picture Perfect Frame

  Murder in Waiting

  Memories and Murder

  Killer Party

  Hospitality and Homicide

  Tea Cups and Carnage

  Murder on Wheels

  Killer Run

  Dressed to Kill

  If the Shoe Kills

  Mission to Murder

  Guidebook to Murder

  Novellas

  A Very Mummy Holiday

  Mother’s Day Mayhem

  Corned Beef and Casualties

  Santa Puppy

  A Deadly Brew

  Rockets’ Dead Glare

  The Kitchen Witch Mysteries

  One Poison Pie

  Two Wicked Desserts

  Novellas

  Murder 101

  Chili Cauldron Curse

  The Cat Latimer Mysteries

  A Field Guide to Homicide

  Sconed to Death

  Slay in Character

  Of Murder and Men

  Fatality by Firelight

  A Story to Kill

  Table of Contents

  By Lynn Cahoon

  Dedication

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Recipe – Baked Apple Cider Muffins

  Teaser Chapter

  A Pumpkin Spice Killing

  A Farm-to-Fork novella

  Lynn Cahoon

  LYRICAL UNDERGROUND

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  LYRICAL UNDERGROUND BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2021 by Lynn Cahoon

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund-raising, educational, or institutional use.

  Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Sales Manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 119 West 40th Street, New York, NY 10018. Attn. Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

  Lyrical Underground and Lyrical Underground logo Reg. US Pat. & TM Off.

  First Electronic Edition: July 2021

  ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-1028-5 (ebook)

  ISBN-10: 1-5161-1028-5 (ebook)

  Dedication

  To the everyday heroes who work at and manage homes for our disabled and elderly.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Working in adult services (Medicaid, long-term care, and social services), you hear a lot of horror stories about homes where our most vulnerable populations live. But rarely do you hear about the good things and the well-run homes. I’ve heard about and worked at some of these where the residents are more like family than paying guests. If you are part of this industry, thank you for your kindness and watchfulness.

  As always, a heartfelt thank you to my agent, Jill Marsal, and the crew at Kensington Publishing, including my editor, Esi Sogah, and the digital diva, Alex Nicholajsen.

  Chapter 1

  Angie Turner leaned back in the shotgun seat in one of the two minivans she’d rented for the County Seat’s most recent team building session. Hope Anderson, the restaurant’s newest line cook, had been in charge of planning the session this quarter and she’d wanted to get the team building started as soon as the vans left the County Seat’s parking lot.

  “Pull the van into that coffee place and let’s get something to drink. My treat.” She pointed Ian McNeal, van driver and her boyfriend, to the upcoming coffeehouse. “I’ll let Felicia know we’re stopping at the drive-thru.”

  “Your wish.” Ian grinned at her, then looked into the back of the van at Hope and Bleak Hubbard. They’d chosen to ride together in the front van with the addition of Dom, Angie’s St. Bernard and County Seat mascot. The girls had become fast friends as soon as Bleak had arrived in River Vista. “You two old enough for coffee or should we get you hot chocolate?”

  “I’ve been drinking coffee for years.” Bleak tossed her hair back out of her eyes. She’d dropped the goth look, but her hair was still long and black. Now it had a healthy shine to it and Angie noticed she and Hope had matching pedicures with what looked like animals painted on the nails. “Anyway, get me a pumpkin spice latte. It’s time to welcome fall.”

  “Yes, it is.” Angie finished texting their stop to Felicia and, looking up from her phone, grinned at the newest member of the restaurant family. Bleak was still in high school, but she’d talked her school counselor into approving this community service trip even though it meant she’d miss three days of school. “I’ll have the same. Large, please.”

  “You mean venti,” Hope corrected her. “I’m in for the PSL too.”

  Ian shook his head. “Okay, three coffee light drinks and a real cup of coffee for me.”

  “Don’t be that way. PSL is amazing.” Hope curled her leg up underneath her and reached back to stroke Dom’s back. He was back on the third seat sleeping. He lifted his head and gave Hope’s hand a quick lick before plopping his head back down on the seat. “Does Dom need some water?”

  “I gave him some before we left town and I’ve got a couple of bottles in that backpack on the floor. He’ll let you know if he’s thirsty.” Angie loved how well Dom fit in with the group. He was as much of a family member as any of her staff.

  “Depending on how many more stops I have to make, we should be there in about two hours.” Ian glanced at the GPS he’d brought with him.

  “Angie, do you think Matt bought that we were going to a knitting retreat?” Hope leaned forward toward the front of the van. “Did you see his face when I handed him the bag with yarn and knitting needles?”

  “I thought the mini lesson/project sheet you gave him was awesome. He should be trying to figure out how to hold the needles right now. Nancy said she’d help him on the ride.” Angie turned to face Hope. “When you set up a prank, you go all in.”

  “I can’t believe he took us to a haunted prison last fall. It really wasn’t fun. Especially after that guard was killed. If we make it through
the next four days with no one dying, I’m calling this a success.” Hope leaned back in her seat. “Especially when Matt finds out we’re helping clean up this veteran’s home instead of knitting.”

  “He’s going to whine about that too.” Bleak didn’t look up from her fashion magazine. “Matt always whines when there’s actual work to be done. I’m surprised Estebe hasn’t moved him back to dishwasher as much as he complains about things.”

  “He’s just young,” Ian said as he pulled up to the speaker at the coffeehouse. “Hey, they have pumpkin bread too. Four slices?”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Angie opened her planner and started to make notes about the new menu she wanted to propose at the staff meeting they would have in a few days out at the farmhouse before they would pack up for home. She’d told the center’s owner that the group would handle food for the center for the time they were there. She and Felicia would see what they needed and check for any specific dietary issues with the residents, then head to the local grocery store to stock the center’s shelves.

  They’d had to make the quarterly team building event smaller for the last few quarters, but this time, she was going all out. And she’d have time to test some of the recipes she wanted to propose.

  Angie took the cups of pumpkin spice latte Ian handed her and passed two back to Hope and Bleak. She was getting into the road trip mood. The team building was going to be an amazing four days. Especially once Matt got over being tricked with the yarn.

  By the time they reached River Vista Veteran’s home, it was almost eleven. Angie got out of the van and took in the house and surrounding area. It was an old ranch-style home that needed a touch up. According to Hope, the woman who ran it, Mrs. Stewart, had been managing the center for over ten years. The house looked like it hadn’t been painted in at least that long. The front yard needed weeding and grass planted. They had their work cut out for them.

  Ian stood by her and whistled. “I didn’t think it would be this bad. Hopefully the inside is better off, or we’ll have to prioritize what we get done this time. I’ll get my men’s group to come out next month. We’ll get this place ready for new residents. Don’t worry.”

  “I didn’t say I was worried,” Angie responded.

  He laughed and pulled her into a hug. “Honey, sometimes your face tells the whole story. It will be fine. I promise.”

  The other van pulled up and the rest of the crew joined them in front of the house. Matt stepped out and went to stand by Hope. “Wow. This place looks like it needs some work. Are you sure we’re at the right place?”

  “How’s your knitting going?” Hope didn’t look at him but Bleak snickered.

  He glared at the young women. “This isn’t a knitting retreat, is it? We’re here to fix this place up.”

  “He gets it right on the first guess.” Hope stepped forward to greet the woman who walked out of the house and onto the rundown porch. “Mrs. Stewart? I’m Hope Anderson and this is the County Seat crew. Angie and Felicia are our fearless leaders.”

  Angie and Felicia held up their hands.

  “Well, isn’t this nice. I so appreciate young people taking an interest in the people who served our country so many years ago. We have only two men in residence right now. Randy Owens and Kendrick Trickle. Both men saw the fall of Saigon and have a lot of stories to tell about their time. Randy’s not been feeling well recently so he’s probably not up to having visitors. It’s sad when they’re in the last days.” Mrs. Stewart waved them forward. “Come on in, I’ll show you your rooms.”

  “This is going to be an amazing few days.” Hope took Bleak’s hand and they were the first on the porch. Felicia and Angie exchanged a look and followed the crew into the house.

  Yes, this was going to be an interesting team building session, Angie thought. She hoped that Bleak and Hope were up to the challenge. Although Angie didn’t know why she was worried. Both of the young women came from families where service to others was something expected rather than just a once-a-year thing.

  Mrs. Stewart stopped at a room and opened the door. “Girls room here. Boys will be on the other side of the hallway. I’ve left linens for the beds. I have iced tea and cookies in the parlor and I’ll give you the to-do list. Now, don’t think you have to get everything done in four days. Choose your projects. I’m sure God will send more helpers to our doorstep soon.”

  “My dad’s men’s group is planning a weekend to come up next month to help.” Hope pointed toward Ian. “So you’ll get to see that guy again. It’s okay though, he’s cool.”

  Mrs. Stewart smiled and nodded. “I’ve been talking to a third group out of River Vista who are coming soon. God really is good. Men, come this way and I’ll show you your room.”

  Inside their room, Hope dropped her bag onto a top bunk. “Bleak, do you want top or bottom. Or you could have that top over there and we could talk?”

  “Don’t think you two girls are going to be chatting all night. I need my eight hours or I’m a bear. Just ask my kids.” Nancy nodded to Angie. “Boss, do you want the single or do you and Felicia want the bottom bunks?”

  “We’ll take the bottom bunks.” Felicia ran over to claim her bed. “This is so much fun. It’s like camp.”

  “I don’t know what camp you went to but we were in actual tents.” Angie followed her over and motioned Dom to sit on the floor between the two bunks. “Let’s get our beds made and stuff situated and then we can get busy. Daylight’s wasting.”

  “Yes, mother,” Felicia said behind her.

  “I’d hit you with my pillow but I’m afraid it might break apart.” Angie stuffed her pillow into a well-worn pillowcase with faded embroidery on the edge. “We may want to buy linens for the residents’ rooms as our company Christmas charity.”

  “Great idea. I’ll check it out and see what’s needed.” Felicia grabbed her phone and made a note.

  Angie finished putting her clothes away in a drawer, then grabbed Dom’s backpack and started unloading his stuff on top of the dresser. She put his canned food at the back and his bag of treats on top of that. Maybe he wouldn’t sniff them out. “It’s bad when I pack lighter for me than my dog, isn’t it?”

  “You spoil him.” Felicia stood by the door. “Come on slowpoke. The girls are already heading to the living room for cookies.”

  Angie and Dom followed Felicia out but as she walked past a room, she heard a noise.

  “Carol? Is that you?” A man’s voice called out.

  Angie glanced in the room and saw an elderly man sitting in a chair near the window looking outside. “Sorry, it’s not Carol. My name is Angie Turner and this is my dog, Dom.”

  “He sure is a big fellow.” The man reached out a withered hand and Dom went over to sit where the man could pet him.

  Dom seemed to know when his services as a big fuzzy love puppy were needed. And this was one of those times. Angie moved closer so the older man could see her face. There was a metal folding chair near the wall, and she set it up so she could sit down for a minute. “How are you today? We’re here to work on the house. I hope we won’t be too noisy for you.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” The man grinned. “I’m only glad to have someone to talk to besides Carol. She means well, but she has a lot of work to do to keep all of us going. I’m Randy Owens. It’s genuinely nice to meet you and Dom.”

  Angie noticed he hadn’t taken his hand off the large dog’s head and Dom didn’t seem to mind at all. He had on the happy face that he got after they walked or went for a drive. “Did you have dogs?”

  “All my life until I moved here. My last dog died a week before I fell and broke my hip. It’s like he knew something was going to happen and didn’t want me to worry about him. But I sure do miss Gideon.” He absently stroked Dom’s fur. “He was a Bernese Mountain dog. They don’t live long lives, not like those yippy small dogs people carry ar
ound in their purse. I was lucky with Gideon, he survived fifteen years. Would have been sixteen that fall.”

  “That’s a long time to be with a best friend.” Angie reached out and touched Dom’s face. “I hope I get twenty years out of this guy.”

  “You treat him right, you might.”

  “Angie, Angie Turner, are you back here?” A female voice called out from somewhere in the house.

  “Sounds like you’re being summoned.” The grin made Randy’s face look younger somehow. “And maybe you’re in trouble. Carol doesn’t like troublemakers.”

  Angie smiled and stood up, putting the chair back. “Then how are you still around?”

  He chuckled and as they were leaving the room said, “You and Dom are always welcome to come visit me.”

  “Believe me, we’ll be here so much, you’ll get tired of seeing us.” She paused at the doorway. Hadn’t Carol said Randy was on his deathbed? The guy was old, sure, but he seemed to be coherent and alert. Maybe she’d been talking about the other resident.

  “Miss Turner?” The woman called again, bringing Angie out of her thoughts.

  “Coming.” She was going to be spending more time with Randy. He loved dogs as much as she did.

  Chapter 2

  After they’d gotten a tour of the house and the crew had picked their three top projects, Angie and Felicia headed to the kitchen to get lunch started. Mrs. Stewart, or Carol, followed them. She pulled out a notebook from the bookshelf that held several recipe books.

  “This is Randy’s and Kendrick’s dietary plan. There is a state dietician who comes quarterly to look at the food plan and make changes. She’s been worried about Randy’s weight lately, so she’s backed off on some of the normal limitations. Mainly, she just wants him to eat. Kendrick is on a low-sugar diet due to his diabetes but other than that, you have free rein in planning meals.” Carol handed the book to Angie. “Of course, if it’s too much, I could just make them something separate from the main meal.”