Coastal Cottage Calamity (A Logan Dickerson Cozy Mystery Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

Everyone else had left
or was instructed to leave by the sheriff or the FBI’s liaison. But no one
could get Miss Vivee to leave. Not until they were finished. And if she was
staying, I told them, so was I.
    Oliver’s body was
going to have to be transported to be autopsied. No one in Yasamee could do it.
But by the time everything was straightened out between local and federal
authorities and the place secured, it was too late to get Oliver’s body
anywhere. He was put in the one door freezer at the mortuary until the next
morning when it could travel.

Chapter Six
     
    The Maypop was dark
and quiet.
    The dining room, usually
buzzing with people and pies at this time of day was empty and all the lights
were off. The place almost looked abandoned. The bed and breakfast only served
breakfast and dessert, except on Fridays when they served lunch. Renmar’s
famous (she’s won awards) bouillabaisse was one of the favorites on the menu
and the medium sized dining area had waiting room only.
    It appeared that Renmar
and Brie had secured themselves to their part of the house because when I got
Miss Vivee home from the island, no one was around.
    “I know you must
be tired,” I said to Miss Vivee as we walked into the house. I flipped on the
light switch on the wall by the front door.
    “Don’t,” Miss
Vivee said. “Just leave the lights off. I’m sure no one will be stopping by. No
one in town is in the mood for blueberry pie or peach cobbler. Everyone is too
sad about Oliver.”
    And that sadness
was etched in Miss Vivee’s face. Her wrinkles sagged more, the brightness of
her blue eyes seemed faded.
    “I’m so sorry
about Oliver, Miss Vivee.”
    “Me too,” she said
and smiled at me. She touched my arm. “Will you help me get to my room? I feel
so tired.”
    “Sure,” I said.
    Miss Vivee was
always so full of energy. She was up with the sun, and kept going – working in
her greenhouse tending to her herbs and plants she used for healing, or helping
Renmar in the kitchen – all day. She’d go to bed around nine, but quite often
I’d seen her up grabbing a snack out of the kitchen even as late as eleven.
    I put her
umbrella, folding chair and picnic basket on the counter in the foyer and
extended my bent arm for her to take. She held onto it and walked much slower
than usual to her room. There I helped her get undressed and into bed.
    “You want me to
make you some tea?” I asked.
    “No,” she said.
“Just hand me that box of tissue. I think I’m going to have to cry this out of me.”
Then she looked at me. “You know sometimes it’s okay to cry. You don’t have to
be strong all the time.”
    “I know, Miss
Vivee,” I said. “My mother is big on crying. She cries about everything with no
shame or concern about who sees her.” I smiled at her.
    “I like your
mother,” she said pulling back the covers and climbing into bed. “I can’t wait
to meet her.”
    “She’ll love you,”
I said. I tucked her in and headed for the door.
    “Before you leave,
would you draw the curtains?”
    “Sure.”
    “And then close
the door behind you.”
    I too felt bad
about Oliver, but after leaving Miss Vivee’s room for some reason that fish I’d
found earlier that day popped into my mind.
    What was it doing
on that Island?
     
     

 
    Chapter Seven
     
    There was a jangle
of the bell over the front door and a “Hello.” The florid man that entered had
a bulbous nose and sweat was dripping off his face. He attempted to walk up to
the counter where Brie sat, but Cat, who had stood on all four as soon as the
man walked through the double oak doors, starting jumping up and down barking.
    Miss Vivee hadn’t
been exactly right, people didn’t necessarily want blueberry pie and peach
cobbler but they were interested in stopping by the Maypop – everyone curious
about what happened to Oliver. She’d gotten up from her nap and the dining room
was buzzing with people keeping Renmar and Brie busy.
     “Whoa