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A Deadly Beach Read: Cozy Mystery Beach Reads, #2

A Deadly Beach Read: Cozy Mystery Beach Reads, #2

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A Deadly Beach Read: Cozy Mystery Beach Reads, #2

111 Seiten
3 Stunden
Aug 21, 2017


Finding a dead body was the last thing Daisy expected. When the victim's wife sees her husband's lifeless body with a stranger standing beside him, chaos ensues and accusations fly. The nosy neighbors are watching, and life as Daisy knows it turns upside down.

Forced to search for answers that nobody is willing to give, Daisy does her best to avoid going to jail for a crime she didn't commit. With a bullseye on her back, and an over anxious cop hoping to solve his homicide investigation, Daisy must match wits and outmaneuver not only suspects but the officer ready to arrest her.  

"A Deadly Beach Read" is a family-friendly story with no foul language, no sex, and no gore.

Aug 21, 2017

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A Deadly Beach Read - Molly Dox


Chapter 1

Daisy stood beside the dead man, with two take-out containers still in hand. Her luck had run out. The streak she’d been on finally ended. She figured it was all downhill from there. Well, mostly. Okay, most certainly. It had to be...right?

The man was easily in his fifties or sixties. A single wound, and one she couldn’t look away from. She was caught like a deer in headlights, unable to tear her focus away. Time moved slowly, as if steeped in molasses.

A scream echoed through the stillness, only the scream wasn’t her own. Mrs. Franklin’s frantic voice circled her like a hungry python. Daisy froze, still in shock. Within moments, heated accusations flew at her in rapid succession like bullets from a machine gun.

Daisy wasn’t ready for this. It was going to be a bad day, probably a bad week...maybe even a bad month. She hoped things turned around quickly, because a dead man was the last thing she felt like dealing with— especially today.

The morning started well enough, a gorgeous September day, thinning crowds on the popular barrier island, and a nice boost of overtime in her paycheck. She should have sensed the tides were turning when the lunch crowd was iffy. Oh, they showed up, but tight-handed tippers left her less than stellar rewards for her service. By the time that she was ready to clock-out, her boss convinced her to run a take-out order to a customer down the way. Since they’d already paid via credit card, he told them, ‘No need for him to come in, since she’ll be going that direction anyway.’ Wow, thanks for volunteering her.

And now, there she stood on the deck of an oceanfront home worth millions of dollars with a dead body and a screaming wife to deal with. She wanted to hand the woman her take-out and run away, but that would be rude. After all, her husband was dead.

He’s dead, she shrieked, as if it weren’t obvious. The frantic woman pointed her finger at Daisy. You stay right there. I know who you are.

Daisy sighed. She tried not to stare, but it some weird twisted way, she couldn’t look away. The man seemed to have been reading. The book had since fallen to the ground. It was an interesting choice for an older man. She took note of the title, then glanced back up.

The woman before her was still in a state of panic. Her hands trembled as she tried to dial for help. She fumbled and almost dropped her cell phone.

Daisy bent and set the food containers down. The scent of garlic aioli seeped out of the Styrofoam box. Here, let me help.

The woman cautiously gave the phone to her and clasped her hands around her body as if her life depended on it.

Daisy dialed 9-1-1.

A nasal-toned operator answered. 9-1-1, what’s your emergency?

There’s there was no easy way to put it politely with his wife right there. The moment for tact was shaded. There’s a dead guy on the deck of a beach house. We’re going to need some help.

She waited for the dispatcher’s questions and fed as much information to her as she was able.  No, it doesn’t look...natural.

I know what you did, the woman shrieked again. She lunged toward Daisy. Give me my phone.

Daisy spun just far enough away so that the woman missed.

Police and an ambulance are on the way, the dispatcher said.

Thanks. She ended the call and handed the phone back to the deranged woman. I didn’t kill your husband.

How do I know? I don’t trust you. She started to back up, her face twisted in a panic.

Daisy groaned. Look, lady, I’m just here to deliver your food. We don’t even offer delivery service. It’s take-out, but for some reason, you were told that I’d bring it to you. Here I am. I’m sorry about your husband, truly I am, but I’m not his killer.

The woman’s tears fell heavy as sobs cracked in her throat. She leaned against the deck’s railing, reality sinking in. Her hand went up to her mouth. He’s gone. Why did this happen?

Daisy hoped she didn’t regret her next move. She walked beside the woman and hugged her. The woman dropped against her and held on tightly.

Come on, let’s go inside. There’s no need for you to stand here and see this, she comforted.

What about the police? she asked.

I’ll wait and flag them down, Daisy offered. The woman nodded. I’m so sorry for your loss.

The woman grew quiet. She hissed under her breath. They’re staring.

Who’s staring? Confused, Daisy looked around but didn’t see anybody.

She gestured with her chin toward the house next door. The people quickly turned away, acting like they weren’t watching. In a window, a curtain fell closed, and a shadowy figure stepped away from the glass.

Daisy glanced over, then noticed the people near the deck, and saw the others inside before the curtain dropped closed.  She figured it was innocent enough. They probably stepped outside to see what was going on after they heard the woman’s scream. She turned and brought the woman inside, then went back to the deck to wait for the police and ambulance.

The sirens brought more than a few looks from people walking by, on the beach, and from the homes beside them. The police car arrived a few minutes before the ambulance.

Officer Michaels climb the steps to the deck. Daisy stood beside the dead man who was sprawled out on a lounge chair, with the book he appeared to be reading now beside him on the deck.

The officer questioned her. Are you the one that called?

Daisy looked around, she didn't see anybody else. He seemed to be a genius. Yes, I'm the one who called.

What have you got there? He gestured with his chin toward the Styrofoam boxes sitting on the outdoor table.

A regular Einstein. They’re take-out containers.

Is there anything in them I should be aware of? Any weapons or poison that might've been used in the crime?

Let's see, we have a Chicken Caesar salad wrap and a steak sandwich with garlic aioli sauce. Unless the chef put something in the food, I think we’re safe. Of course, he hasn't eaten the food yet. I'm just here to drop it off. His wife is inside.

Can you step back away from the body? He scanned the ground and noticed the book but not much else. It was obvious where the wound was inflicted. Leave the take-out boxes outside. I’d like you to have a seat inside and we'll talk in a few moments.

The ambulance pulled up to the scene and parked. The emergency crew ran up the stairs and stopped at the site of the body. Their services would be needed to do a transport, but no life support measures were necessary. They’d have to wait for the coroner to arrive.

Daisy complied. When she turned to reach for the doorknob, Chloe was holding it on the other side ready to come outside. They startled each other.

Officer Michaels turned toward the women. Are you the victim's wife?

She nodded. When she spoke, her voice cracked. Yes I am.

I’ll need to speak with you and anybody else who may have seen anything. If you could wait inside, I'll be there shortly.

She pointed toward the neighbor’s house. They may have seen something. They were peering over earlier. They’re extremely nosy.

Maybe that will play in your favor. Don’t worry, we’ll do the best that we can to find out who committed this heinous act.

Thank you, she said, dabbing at her tears.

Daisy went back inside with the woman. She couldn't help but wonder if they were real tears or crocodile tears. She hated thinking like that, but anything was possible. Maybe the

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