The Graveyard Thief (Florida Keys Bed & Breakfast Cozy Mystery Book 2), page 1
The Graveyard Thief
Florida Keys Bed & Breakfast Cozy Mystery, Book 2
Danielle Collins
Copyright © 2021 Danielle Collins
All Rights Reserved
Except for review quotes, this book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the written consent of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. All people, places, names, and events are products of the author’s imagination and / or used fictitiously. Any similarities to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Cover Design by Mariah Sinclair
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Thank You!
1
Eva Stewart took in a deep breath of the warm March air as she strolled along on her morning walk. The shade of the Mimosa trees that edged the street offered a delightful reprieve from the sun. Morning had dawned with a stiff breeze that now blew across the cemetery to her left.
The week had been busy, and this Thursday morning walk was just what she needed. The Key’s Bed and Breakfast, which she owned and operated in the heart of Key West, Florida had been booked solid, all seven rooms in operation despite the early time of year. She wasn’t one to complain and loved seeing the breakfast room full, as well as guests mingling on the main floor, but it had taken nearly every ounce of her time.
Things had slowed down a bit but would pick up again for the weekend. It was surprising given the early stage of the season, but it could change at any moment. No one ever knew what circumstance might blow in extra guests. Or what storm might roll in and cause guests to cancel their reservations.
Her phone vibrated in her back pocket, and she pulled it out to see a text from Ruben.
Still okay for ten?
He was leaving for Cuba that afternoon and had begged to see her for coffee before he left. Her fingers paused over the screen, debating what to say.
After the hectic nature of the first of the year, including a shocking case involving a guest impersonating someone and a murder in the alleyway next to her bed-and-breakfast, she’d relied heavily on Ruben. He’d helped install security cameras and a new alarm system for both the bed-and-breakfast and also her cottage at the back of her small property.
Ruben had invited her to dinner several times since their celebratory meal at Carmelitas when the case was over, but she’d avoided accepting his invites. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Ruben, but her friend, Vicky, insisted there was more to his invitations than just friendship.
She’d even gone so far as to put off the renovations she wanted to do on one of her guest rooms because she wasn’t sure she was ready to work closely with him. The idea of having to second-guess everything she said was stressful.
Eva bit her lip as she moved to the other side of the street to accommodate the lack of sidewalk next to the wrought iron fence that surrounded the Key West Cemetery. Perhaps she should agree to meet him. It was just coffee. And he was going to be gone for two weeks.
I’ll be there!
Message sent, she shoved her phone back into the pocket of her jean capris and focused on enjoying the peace and relative quiet of her walk. While a cemetery may not be a common place for many to find peace, it was close to her bed-and-breakfast and offered a different type of scenery than the crowded housing that filled most Key West streets.
Rounding the corner to Margaret Street, she headed into the historic cemetery founded in 1847. When she had time, like today, Eva slowed to read some of the headstones. The graves were aboveground tombs due to the high water table, and she found the sparse information listed to be intriguing.
It was always her goal to look for the oldest date she could find, a silly game she’d once played with her uncle, and today was no different. She spotted a 1915 grave and then one from 1890, but as she was rounding the corner, she caught sight of someone’s feet sticking out into the pathway.
While access to the cemetery wasn’t limited, she usually came so early that there weren’t many people around. That, as well as the fact it looked like the legs weren’t moving, caused concern to ring an alarm bell in her mind.
She turned around toward the gate she’d come in, but the pathway was clear. Then she did a quick circle, still not seeing anyone, before she moved off the path toward the feet.
Every nerve in her body was on high alert and she flashed back to the sight of a body covered by a sheet. The body they’d found in the alley next to her bed-and-breakfast. She tried to tell herself this was different, but it didn’t feel different.
“Excuse me?” she said, coming closer. The feet still hadn’t moved. “Sir, are you all right?”
Now that she was within a tombs-length from the shoes, she could see they were expensive, real leather in a dark brown color with red soles. Louboutin if she had to guess. And they definitely weren’t moving.
Avoiding every warning that sounded in her mind and instead choosing to focus on the fact that someone may need help, Eva rushed toward the feet. She slid to a stop, her tennis shoes skidding on the thin grass.
A man lay on the ground and there was blood.
Stumbling back, she steadied herself on the corner of a tomb and fought back the panic that quickly surfaced. She needed to get help. She reached for the phone in her back pocket, but her hands were shaking so badly she all but flung it forward, trying to catch it but only speeding up the process of its descent.
With a sickening crack, the phone connected with a stone tomb. When she went to pick it up, the shattered screen was black.
“No! Please turn on,” she begged it, but nothing happened.
She looked back at the man, but now, from the alternate angle, she could see that his eyes were open, staring lifelessly skyward. He was dead.
She stumbled back, careful not to let the glass from her broken screen fall into her hands. Someone needed to call the police. But how? She did another quick circle but knew that the cemetery office wouldn’t be open this early. Trying to think of who lived near there, an idea popped into her mind.
Willard and Bonnie Smith! Willard, a member of her Murder Mystery Book Club, had been put on a diet by his wife Bonnie and now, almost every time she walked this route in the mornings, she passed by them. They didn’t live close, but could she have enough luck to find them today?
Rushing away from the grave, she paused when she reached the narrow road that led through the cemetery. She mentally took a snapshot of the area, so she’d be able to find it, and then hurried toward the entrance she’d come in.
Even if she couldn’t find the Smiths, anyone with a phone would do. She reached the entrance and rushed into the road. While it wasn’t exactly that early anymore, the retirees that made up many of the residents in the area were just starting their days. Perhaps she could knock on someone’s door and ask to use their phone?
She was about to make a random choice when someone called her name.
“That you, Eva?” Willard said in his usually gruff tone.
He stood just under six feet with a few extra pounds to lose around the middle but, if pressed, Eva would say he was looking a little leaner thanks to his wife Bonnie. The woman was the picture of health in her jogging shorts and tank top, a visor covering her graying hair.
“Are you all right? Eva, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Bonnie said. Then she turned and looked at the cemetery and grinned as if she’d just realized her own joke.
“No—no I’m not all right.” She rushed up to them. “I just saw a dead body in the cemetery.”
Willard’s eyes narrowed like he was expecting a punchline and only then did she realize how that had sounded.
“I mean—a real dead body. Like a…fresh one.”
Now Willard’s eyes went wide. “What do you mean? Where?”
“In the cemetery,” she said throwing a hand in the direction of where she’d just come from. “Do either of you have a phone? Mine broke.”
She held up the shattered phone as if it were evidence.
“Oh, goodness, be careful of the glass,” Bonnie said as Willard pulled his phone out.
“Want me to call?”
“Sure,” Eva said, sending a nervous glance over her shoulder. “I think I should go back there. Make sure someone else doesn’t come by and happen upon it.” Like I did.
“Someone should go with you,” Willard said, looking between Eva and Bonnie.
“Why don’t I call and you two go,” Bonnie said, looking a bit squeamish.
“Okay. Come on Eva.”
His hand at the small of her back was meant to be reassuring but it felt a little like he was pushing her somewhere she didn’t want to go.
She didn’t want to go back to the body. Didn’t want to see those unseeing eyes again. But Willard was right, they shouldn’t be alone there.
“I’ll direct them,” Bonnie called out to them as her phone connected with her ear. “Hello? Yes, I need to report a
Murder? The word haunted Eva as she and Willard walked back toward where she’d found the shoes—the body. There was a chance it wasn’t murder though, wasn’t there? She hadn’t really looked at the man, for obvious reasons, but she had seen blood on his head. Was it possible he fell and hit his head while visiting a relative’s grave?
The thought saddened her, and she took in a deep breath.
“You okay?” Willard asked.
Was she? Not really, but only for the fact that it was a very unsettling sight to come across a dead body while seeking peace and quiet. And in a cemetery, nonetheless.
“I’ll…be okay.”
“So that means no.”
“You’re a mind reader now?” she teased, the action feeling more like a normal thing than the reason they were there.
“I may be old, but that’s given me time to learn a thing or two about women.” He slowed when he caught sight of the feet sticking out into the narrow walkway almost twenty feet from the road.
“And what have you learned?” she asked, keeping her tone light and desperately trying to keep her mind off of what they were walking back to.
“That a woman will say she’s fine no matter what.” He shrugged as if to say, Told you, it wasn’t much.
“There he is,” she said, indicating the feet.
“I can see,” Willard said, resting a hand on his abdomen. He took a step forward.
“I wouldn’t…”
“Hey—” Willard took another step, then another.
“Willard, what are you—”
“I know him.”
“What?” Now Eva took a step toward the body but halted before he came into view. It wasn’t a sight she wanted to revisit.
“Yeah, that’s Charlie Wodehouse. Well, Charles, but everyone calls—er, called him Charlie.”
Eva couldn’t believe that she’d stumbled across a dead body, and it was someone Willard knew.
“I’m so sorry Willard.” She flashed a compassionate look his way, but he was already raising a hand to stop her.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m sorry he met his end, but he wasn’t well-liked at the club.”
“The club?” Eva said, the sound of sirens finally making their way toward the cemetery.
“The Glenna Club. It’s kind of like an upscale gentleman’s club, and before you go getting the wrong idea, it’s all above board. We smoke a cigar or two, but mostly it’s just a place to go for lunch and afternoon talk for us retired folk.” He laughed. “We even let the ladies in,” he said, dipping his head toward her.
She was glad to hear that the club was forward thinking, but what truly concerned her was what he’d said before that. “What do you mean he wasn’t well-liked?”
He looked around at the tombs surrounding them and whispered, “You shouldn’t talk ill of the dead, right?”
She gave him a look and he shrugged. “I just know that those who partake in gambling—I’m not one of them.” He held up his fingers in a Scout salute. “Well, I’ve heard that he was ruthless in games. Took a guy’s boat once—a houseboat.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
A police car came into view and officers jumped out, making their way toward where Eva and Willard stood.
“Better move away from the body. Want to make sure we don’t contaminate the scene.”
Willard looked at Eva and grinned. “I remember,” he said, tapping his temple. “Guess I can thank the MMBC for inspiring me to do that.”
While the Murder Mystery Book Club was just that—a book club—they had also discovered the club had a penchant for solving real-life mysteries. All the knowledge they gained from their reading exploits was put to good use in that moment while Eva assessed the area where poor Mr. Wodehouse had died.
While she didn’t look at him again, she took in the way his body was positioned, as well as the tomb he’d fallen against. She wanted to get a better look at it to see who he might have been visiting when a familiar voice spoke up.
“Fancy meeting you here, Ms. Stewart.”
She turned to take in a handsome man with his hands on his hips, a twinkle of something in his eye. Was that amusement?
“Detective Makos, did you come to see the dead body in the cemetery?” She allowed a bit of the humor that statement deserved to show, but not too much. She didn’t fancy laughing or making others laugh where a man had met his end.
“That I did.” He slid his hands into his pockets as officers passed him to secure the scene with crime scene tape. “And imagine my surprise to see you, of all people, at my crime scene.”
“Alleged crime scene, don’t you mean?”
His shoulders hunched. “I suppose.”
“I wasn’t expecting to find a real dead body here,” she said, her tone turning somber.
“Exactly how did that happen?”
She explained how she’d come for a walk through the cemetery and how the feet had caught her attention.
The detective’s eyes narrowed as he glanced at Willard. “And you are…”
“Willard. Willard Smith,” he said, holding out his hand and shaking the detective’s.
“Detective Jerome Makos,” he replied. “You were at the, uh, book club meeting.” Jerome sent her a look before meeting Willard’s gaze again.
“I was. You only came once,” Willard said, a question and a statement wrapped into one.
“It’s been a busy season, what with the added tourism.”
“I bet.” Willard looked at Eva, then back to the body before meeting the detective’s gaze again. “My wife’s out front. What do I need to do so I can get back to her?”
Eva smiled at Willard’s natural directness. She had a feeling Jerome, originally from New York, would appreciate that.
“Officer Kent,” Jerome called out. “Will you get Mr. Smith’s statement?”
“Sure thing,” Kent said, coming over with a friendly smile.
“Another dead body,” Jerome said when they were alone again. “Should I be worried?”
She offered an unamused look. “I didn’t plan this,” she said and then realized what it sounded like. “I mean—”
“I know what you meant,” Jerome said, pulling out a pad of paper and trying and failing to hide his smile. “Let’s start from the beginning.”
“You’re taking my statement?” she asked, surprised. She thought an officer would do it, like Kent had for Willard.
“Humor me,” Jerome said, keeping his gaze on the notepad. “If I’m forced to talk with anyone before I’ve had my second cup of coffee, I’d prefer it to be a pretty woman.”
Eva felt the blush but also saw the corner of Jerome’s mouth lift. He was either goading her into saying something or…was it possible he was being honest?
At forty-eight, Eva wasn’t one for playing games. She and Jerome—or Detective Makos as she’d called him during most of their first case—hadn’t seemed to see eye to eye on anything. She’d roped the book club into helping her solve the case because she’d worried Jerome was too stubborn to ask for help, seeing as it was his first big case in Key West, but now she wondered what the real hold up had been.
She’d noticed that Detective Makos had stopped coming around after the previous case closed. He’d come to one book club meeting and seemed to enjoy himself, discussing Murder on the Orient Express as if he’d read it several times, but then he’d disappeared. And now he showed up in his deep navy-blue suit and coat, tie cinched tight, looking for all the world like he was back in the big city, but this time he was flirting with her.
Or was that her imagination?
She wasn’t really one for dating, but—
“What time is it?” she gasped.
He checked his watch. “Nine-thirty. Why, have somewhere to be?” He asked the question with genuine concern.
“Um…” There was no way she was going to make her coffee appointment with Ruben. Not if she still had to answer questions. She reached for her phone and remembered it was broken.
