A Special Delivery To Die For (A Rockcrest Cove Cozy Mystery Book 2)

A Special Delivery To Die For

A Rockcrest Cove Mystery Series

Book 2

Emily Page

Copyright © 2015 Emily Page

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher

Chapter One

The streets were slick from rain as Madeline maneuvered them with the finesse of a seasoned local. Her hands gripped the wheel a little tighter than usual and her feet held just enough tension as she prepared to apply the right amount of pressure to the brakes when needed to keep her from skidding across the slippery asphalt pavement.

The first rains of the year were always a little trickier to navigate than at any other time. Months of traffic during the dry months had left the roads with tiny droplets of oil and when mixed with the fresh rains created slippery patches slyly awaiting its first victim to send hydroplaning into another car like balls on a billiards table.

The red taillights of the car in front of her made her quickly tense up as she slammed on the brakes, hoping she wouldn’t go careening into another direction she didn’t want to go; the sudden change in speed made everything lunge forward. Instinctively, her right hand made that protective gesture to hold her packages in the passenger seat in place like a mother protecting a small child. She took her eyes off the road for a fraction of a second to make sure that her precious cargo was still safely in tact and to check the rearview mirror to make sure the car behind her was also able to stop.

A second later, the car ahead was moving again and she carefully moved her foot to the accelerator, moving forward once more, though slowly this time. Subconsciously, her hand moved a strand of lightly graying brown hair from in front of her eyes and she cursed slightly under her breath. Usually, she would be in deep meditation as she took to the roads, relishing in the freedom of time away from the bakery and a little solitude, but today traffic seemed a little more intense than usual.

Maybe it’s me
, she thought,
that is a little more tense than usual
. Her bakery had been doing quite well since that crazy fiasco with Emma Larson had finally been settled last year. The news of Emma’s death had rocked the small town of Rockcrest Cove; it took quite a while for the incessant chatter to finally settle down and people to return to their tedious, mundane lives. Granted, it had been a very stressful time for Maddie; imagine being accused of something so heinous, but it also boosted her reputation in the eyes of the quaint little town. Her business excelled in ways she would have never imagined.

She turned the wheel and the car slipped quietly from the busy main thoroughfare to the quieter, more suburban streets of town.

This part of town was just a little more “posh” than where she lived and certainly had more class than the area where her bakery was located. You could tell that the cobblestone roadways were not used to a lot of traffic crossing them and the long and winding driveways that lead up to the grand estate houses harkened back to a gentler time than what Rockcrest Cove had seen lately.

Maddie glanced down at the paper taped to her dashboard and followed the directions carefully to the street she was looking for.
Right turn here, two blocks and then a left, then a quick right.
She leaned into the steering wheel as if the few extra inches would help her to see the street signs a little better. Three minutes later, she pulled into the driveway of a beautiful Victorian house, complete with the grand wraparound porch with rocking chairs set out on the veranda. Even in the rain, you can still smell the hint of paint in the air that told her that the white building with Kelly green trim had only recently been completed. The new residents were in the process of remodeling their home and were planning on being a part of this community for many more years.

The rain had eased up and was now a fine mist that made Maddie sit in the car for a minute. She took a quick glance in the mirror to check her hair and made a quiet sign of exasperation. She made an ineffectual attempt to pat down her mossy brown hair as though that was all it needed to keep the frizzies at bay. Another glance in the mirror told her that the attempt was futile, another ill side effect of the weather turning. The summer months were definitely over, and the next few months were going to be a struggle against the elements in every aspect of her life.

Opening the door just a crack in order to get her umbrella opened, she finally stepped out of the car and moved around to the passenger side door. Reaching in, she looked down at the floor and spoke to the canvas bag sitting there.

“Astoria, you need to stay here.” She said. “I’ll only be a minute.”

A white ball of fur appeared at the top of the bag and then disappeared again into its cavernous regions again. Repositioning her handbag over her shoulder, she knelt down to pick up the three pink bakery boxes sitting on the seat and shut the door with her hip. A quick glance at the sky told her that a fresh downpour would be arriving any minute. Like a carefully practiced balancing act, she made her way to the veranda just before the downpour began.

Just before she reached the top step she felt that familiar tingle in her right hip and she was forced to set her packages down on the wrought iron table in order to grab her cell from her back pocket.

“Hello?”

“Hi Maddie, it’s Rachel.”

“Yes, Rachel.” She answered as she cradled the phone in the crook of her neck and reached for the doorbell.

“I just had a quick question about the order for Tiffany?”

“Yes?”

“Did she want delivery today or was she supposed to come in for a pick up? There’s no note on the order.”

“Um, I think she wanted to pick them up.” Maddie answered, unsure. “Her event won’t be held at her house. Big secret thing, I guess.”

“All right.”

Maddie reached up to ring the doorbell a second time, but noticed the door was slightly ajar.

“Hmmm…” she voiced inquisitively.

“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked into the phone.

Strange
, Maddie said to herself. “I’m at the Stevens’ house to make the delivery and there’s no answer at the door.”

“Maybe she’s around back,” Rachel said into the phone. “It’s a big house.”

“Perhaps,” Maddie agreed. “Don’t hang up,” she cautioned, “I want to check it out.”

“Hello?” she called out, quickly setting her cell to snap pictures and immediately took a picture of the front door ajar as she had found it. She called into the room again. “Hello?”  The house had an empty quality that echoed back to her that there was no one home. “Is anybody here?” she tried again, but still there was no response.

She reached out and gave the door a tentative push and watched as it opened wider. “Hang on the phone a minute,” she said to Rachel. “Something doesn’t feel right here.”

“Really?” Rachel asked.

Gingerly, she picked up her packages off the table and stepped over the threshold into the cavernous entrance of the house. The foyer was a plain affair with a handy coat rack in one corner and a hat and umbrella stand in the other. Next to the stand was a small wooden bench, she assumed was used for people putting on their footwear before heading out the door. The room had that exotic Asian feeling with an ample supply of house slippers next to the shoe rack.

“Um, I’m Maddie from the Cake’s Cradle with your delivery…”she said in a sing-songy voice.

The silence in the house gave her the impression that it had been empty for quite some time. There was no sound from the upstairs or the back. She stood there in the foyer for just a moment while she contemplated whether or not to go further into the house. She thought about calling the police, but they weren’t going to come just because some silly old lady thought something was wrong.

She could only see from the foyer into the spacious living room where the Stevens more than likely entertained and welcomed a long parade of guests. Since it was possible to see only partly into the room, Maddie took a tentative step forward into the large expanse and immediately turned up her nose at the nouveau riche décor.
Clearly
, she thought to herself,
here was someone who was quite proud to flaunt her money and show off her success.
It was finely decorated with an odd mixture that told of Ana’s many travels around the world. The east-meets-west motif didn’t quite come off too well with odd combinations of wall hangings from around the world, sofa pillows from India, or maybe it was Indonesia, rugs from somewhere in the Middle East, and tall, thin, African wood carvings to finish it off. On the mantle was a clutter of pictures of Ana in front of the pyramids of Egypt, the Great Wall of China, and even one at the Berlin Wall before it cam crashing down.

On the far side of the room between the living room and the dining room was a landing with a staircase that led to the more private upstairs living area. The lower half of the staircase led down into the dining area opposite the main entrance to the living room.

“Rachel, you still there?” she whispered into the phone as she walked past the staircase into the dining room.

“Yes, ma’am. Still here.”

“Ok, don’t hang up, whatever you do. I may need you to call the police, but wait until I say so.”

“All right.”

Maddie wrinkled up her nose again; it was nice stuff, but it seemed to be a bit of overkill. She called out again; she just wanted to get her delivery done and be on her way.

“Rachel, are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here,” came the reply.

“Are you sure the order was for a delivery today?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she confirmed. “They said they had to have it by early afternoon.”

“Well, I’m here and there’s not a soul around,” Maddie reiterated. “The door was open,” she said and then corrected. “Well, it was not really pulled closed is more like it.”

“Maybe they had some sort of emergency and had to leave in a hurry.”

“Yes, that would explain the door not being completely closed,” Maddie agreed as she made her way into the dining room where she left her packages on the table before heading into the kitchen. “Oh my God,” Maddie said. “Something is very wrong here.”

The room was not quite in complete disarray, but Maddie got the sense that something awful had happened there. The table was set for two, but food was still on the plates from the night before, partially eaten. Utensils were strewn across the floor and a lone wine glass with its contents splattered across the hardwood floor, the stain already set in stone. On the other side of the table was a stack of papers seemingly untouched by the chaos that occurred on the other side of the room.

“Rachel!” Maddie said into the phone. “I think something happened here.”

“Oh my gosh, Ms. Maddie. Are you sure?” Rachel gasped into the phone.

Maddie’s eyes surveyed the room observing all of the little details. She started snapping pictures of everything she saw. A stack of business papers strewn across the dining room table and a few on the floor, two plates of food half eaten, and a broken wine glass, its contents splayed across the floor. “Mmm hmm,” She said as she snapped another picture. “Pretty sure.”

She walked further into the spacious kitchen before turning back towards the way she came when she noticed something on the landing of the staircase leading upstairs.

“There’s something on the stairs,” she said, taking it upon herself to investigate.

As Maddie walked over, she suddenly stopped short. A lone foot, wearing a stylish stiletto, could be seen on the bottom step above the landing. As she rounded the corner, she could see the owner of the shoe.

“Oh my God!” Maddie exclaimed as she hurried over to the woman lying at the bottom of the last riser, a pool of dried blood surrounding her head like a halo. “She’s dead.”

“What!” Rachel wanted to confirm.

“Yes, I’m sure…but,” she hesitated for a moment. “You need to phone the police right away.”  She paused for a second to slow down the rapid beating of her heart. “Don’t hang up the phone, dear. Stay on the line with me until they come. You know how difficult Chief Conner’s can be.”

“Yes, ma’am. I do,” Rachel put down the phone and used the other extension to dial 911.