Chapter 2
Beatrice and Jon were having breakfast at Elsie’s B and B. Elsie had invited them several times and they had finally run out of excuses. Jon didn’t mind Elsie, but Beatrice would rather not spend any more time with her than necessary. In fact, there weren’t many people with whom Beatrice liked to spend time.
“This is delicious,” Jon said.
The stuffed French toast was a bit rich for Bea’s taste, but she had to agree that it was delicious—perfectly spiced with cinnamon, sugar, and nutmeg.
“What kind of cheese is inside?” His slight French accent was even slighter since he had moved to the States to be with Beatrice.
“Ricotta.” Elsie beamed. “I’m so glad you like it, Jon.” The woman sparkled every time Beatrice’s new husband was around her.
Bea was not a jealous woman, but it was beginning to annoy her. She harrumphed and Jon’s eyes met hers. He knew what she was thinking. He grinned and sipped his coffee.
Beatrice turned toward the commotion she heard at the front door. In walked Randy, Paige, and Earl.
What on earth are they doing here at six AM?
“Do you have any bourbon?” Paige asked, frantic.
“What? Why? Of course, I do,” Elsie said.
Beatrice’s estimation of her went up. Just a tad. “What on earth is wrong? Whiskey so early in the morning?”
Paige led Randy to an overstuffed chair.
“Randy discovered a dead body this morning at the Pie Palace,” Earl said after a moment. “Just a little drink will calm his nerves. It’s always worked before.”
“A dead body?” Jon exclaimed.
Beatrice’s heart jumped and Elsie gasped.
Randy nodded. “In the freezer. I went in early to help move the sugar. It had been sitting there . . . I don’t know . . . a few days. I opened the door, turned the light on, and saw this heap. Turned out it was Marina.”
Elsie handed him a glass filled with a few shots of whiskey poured over ice. Randy took a sip and closed his eyes.
“Good Lord,” Beatrice said. “How did that happen?”
Randy shrugged and stared off into space.
“They don’t know if was an accident, suicide, or foul play,” Paige said.
“Foul play?” Elsie said, her eyes widening and face whitening.
Beatrice knew Elsie was thinking of the incident that had occurred right in her beloved B and B. She and Jon had been shot in the very room and were lucky to have survived. Maybe that’s why Beatrice put up with her busybody ways and her flirting with Jon.
Paige shrugged. “Nobody knows anything at this point.” She sighed. “Of course.”
“I’ve got to get to work,” Earl said. “Take it easy, Randy.”
“I’ll try,” Randy said, looking up at his father. “Thanks for everything, Dad.”
“Sure, thing. You’re going to be fine,” Earl said, as if trying to convince himself as much as Randy. Earl shuffled his feet awkwardly and walked out to his car.
Beatrice was glad to see Earl and Randy once again in the same room and speaking with one another after their years of estrangement. But Randy did not look well at all. He had never struck Beatrice as a fragile sort, but then again, walking in on a dead body was no way to start the day.
“Can I get you something to eat?” Elsie asked Randy.
He waved his hand and shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m fine with the whiskey. Almost lost the breakfast I already had. Don’t want to rock the boat.”
The place went silent as Beatrice and Jon sipped their coffee and finished their French toast.
“Who is Marina?” Beatrice finally asked. “Is she from Cumberland Creek?”
Randy swallowed his next sip of whiskey and shook his head. “No. She’s from Mexico.”
“Good heavens,” Elsie said. “She was so far from home. What was she doing here?”
“Working and sending money home, from what I understand,” Randy said, his eyes watering. “She was just so sweet.” He took another drink as his color gradually returned. “She made the most magnificent mango pie,” he muttered.
The front door of the house opened and Bea turned to see the new arrival. It was Annie, thank goodness. Maybe she could shed some light on the situation.
“Hey Bea, Jon, Elsie. Where can I find—”
Beatrice nodded in Randy’s direction before Annie could finish her question.
“Annie!” Randy sat up straighter in his chair. “What did you find out? Anything?”
“Unfortunately, no. I talked to the sheriff, talked with the ME. It’s all speculation at this point. But how are you?”
Randy shrugged. “I’ve never seen anything like that.... You must think I’m such a coward.”
“Not at all,” Annie said, pulling a dining room chair over to him. “I’ve seen a lot of murder victims and while you sort of get used to it, it never gets any easier. It bothers me every single time.”
“Of course it does,” Beatrice said. “You’re human. It would bother anybody.”
“Now I understand a bit about how Sheila felt on the cruise,” he mumbled. “Tripping over a dead body. Thank God I didn’t trip over Marina.”
“How long had that sugar been sitting in front of the freezer?” Annie asked.
“I don’t know. I think a couple days. Too long,” he said. “We’ve been having staffing problems and the person who usually takes care of stock was out sick. I finally got tired of it sitting there and I needed to get into the damn freezer. I’ve really never seen such lackadaisical handling of stock. It would never go over in New York.”
Annie nodded.
“I’m not surprised to hear it,” Beatrice said.
Transitioning from New York City to Cumberland Creek was no easy task—even for a young man who grew up and had family there. Being openly gay was just an additional part of Randy’s challenge as he tried to settle back down in his hometown.
“All the time I spent in the big city . . . well, let’s just say I never once ran into a dead body,” Randy said.
Beatrice grimaced. She knew Paige and Earl were ecstatic to have their only child back in the area—but she wondered how long Randy was going to be happy in Cumberland Creek.