The Christmas Candy Killer: Black Horse Inn Mystery Series, #4

By Lucinda D. Davis

Jean Carter: capable cook, wealthy woman and now, very dead lady.

Welcome to the town of Hampton, Vermont's Best Kept Secret, with a location that defies any GPS, a resident ghost, and now, another murder.

Handsome heart-throb, Sheriff Luther King calls local inn owner and former Boston policewoman, Mo Murray into the fray. They look into the obvious murder suspects: family, family and more family, eventually discovering that the Carter clan had cash, power and position, but lies and deceptions have tainted three unsuspecting generations. When will it end?

And with Carter closets bursting with dusty, dangling skeletons the question remains: Who has the key?

Mo's travels and unravels the meaning behind an old photo, unearths a well-hidden dark family secret and listens to the half-mad ramblings of a woman whose suspicions date back decades. Mo, still dealing with her own heart wrenching loss, must put aside her own demons as she investigates while wondering, 'where did the baby go?'

This mystery weaves together betrayal, prejudice and pride. The present and the past mix and mesh with twists and turns that jump out without warning, and a last page finale that is sure to tease.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lucinda D. Davis
• Release date: Jan 16, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386502043

Lucinda D. Davis

About the Author Lucinda D. Davis has been reading and loving mystery stories since she was old enough to haunt the narrow rows of books at the small Quebec, Canada village library where she spent her summers. After decades of penning ad copy, marketing, and writing for horse sport magazines, she decided to do what people had been telling her to do for years: write some books! She presently lives in a small hamlet on the beautiful Rideau Canal in Ontario, Canada. Her living room view looks out over the locks and waterways. This idyllic setting replete with friends, and more than a few interesting characters inspired her Boddington Bay series of short 'coffee break' cozy mysteries. Her longer Coppin's Lock series brings England to the Canadian countryside! The stories introduce readers to a trendy town in Ontario, Canada that could have been plucked from the English landscape, quirky characters included! Take the essential and quintessential British tea shop, pub and antique shop, throw in two female sleuths, add a Police Chief left shaking his head and you've got the ideal cozy mystery. While the girls may roam from home from time to time, their hearts are firmly set in Coppin's Locks! Visit her website at http://www.lucindadavisauthor.com and Like her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/Lucinda-D-Davis-637648859641784/

Book preview

Chapter 1

Jean Carter gagged, panicked and clawed at her throat, stumbling to a chair in her old-fashioned kitchen. Minutes later she was dead, chocolate pooling on the floor from her open mouth. Murder had come to call nine days before Christmas. Spot, her white and black rescue cat, was the only witness, and he wouldn’t be saying a thing.

Not far from the Carter house, Polly – also known as Mad Polly – Hampton’s postmistress, small store owner, midnight rambler and, some said, witch, pulled back her store curtain and gasped. Sarah Carter was speed walking in the direction of the local police station, her scarf and long coat billowing around her in the high wind. Polly, always on the lookout for scandal or suspense, picked up her vintage avocado-colored rotary phone and dialed a number. Luther, she snapped when the town’s sheriff answered, Incoming! Sarah Carter is in high gear. Be prepared.

Luther hung up, stood up and walked towards the front door of his small office just as Sarah pushed open the front door.

Luther, she gasped, It’s Jean. She’s in the kitchen but I don’t think she’s breathing! My brother Robert is with her now. Please help me ... do something!

Luther grabbed his coat and hat, took Sarah by the arm, ran out to his patrol car and sped towards Sarah’s house, Treetops on Oak Street. In the kitchen, Jean Carter was sitting slumped on an overstuffed chair. Her eyes were open, and the contents of a mixing bowl were splattered on the floor, walls and chair. A box of chocolates sat opened on the table. Luther felt Jean’s carotid artery and then stepped back. He took a cell phone out of his pocket, dialed 911, then followed that with a call to Mo Murray at The Black Horse Inn.

Mo, can you come over here to Treetops, the Carter’s place? Something’s up.

Like what?

A killing in a kitchen.

Mo Murray, tall and slim with shoulder length blond hair, was Sheriff Luther King’s right-hand gal when crime in Hampton got past simple things like a Saturday night drunk, a lost pet, or a teenager applying a five-finger discount at the local grocery store. After years as a policewoman in Boston, she often stepped in to help Luther deal with more complicated cases.

What do you think, Mo? asked Luther, later that evening in his office after the CSI team had come and gone.

Seemed like she might have had a stroke, but we’ll know more after the autopsy.

A stroke? Do you really think so? I saw her last week and she’d just come from the doctor who’d given her a clean bill of health, said Luther, standing up wearily.

Well she died baking for the Hampton Christmas Bazaar. That was what she loved doing best. She and Robert have won the cake category every single year they entered.

Well, depending on the autopsy results, next week we’ll be getting ready for a funeral or we’ll be getting ready for a murder investigation.

***

Two days later the phone call Mo had been dreading came through. She sat down on the sofa with a gentle thud. They’re sure, Luther?

Yes, there was antifreeze inside the chocolates. This was no accident. I’ll meet you at Sarah’s house in twenty minutes.

Sarah and Robert Carter were speechless when they heard the news.

But who would want to kill her? She was a harmless woman. I suppose somebody was jealous, said Robert

Why do you say that? asked Luther, taking out his notepad.

Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? Somebody in this town is jealous of the Carter money and social position, said Robert with his usual arrogance, adjusting monogrammed gold cufflinks on a made-to-measure blue striped shirt. 

Mo ignored the remark and asked, Did Jean have any enemies? Had she upset anybody recently?

Jean? Upset anybody? She was the kindest, nicest person you could ever hope to meet, said the down to earth Sarah between sobs, but, now that I think about it, there was something peculiar she mentioned a while back.  Jean just laughed it off. She always thought the best of everybody, but I wonder now if it is important?

Can you explain? asked Mo gently.

Jean said that somebody at the church said that she and Robert won the cake baking contest every year because they gave a large annual donation to the church.’ Somebody thought it wasn’t fair that they won all the time. This person said she’d do anything to win just once.

Really, said Mo with raised eyebrows, and when was this?

About three weeks ago or so. Jean just mentioned it in passing, but never mentioned it again.

That might be important, said Luther, writing a note in his book, and we’ll look into this. Now, can you recall when the candy arrived and who it was from?

My mother’s family made their money in chocolates, the Grand Boston Chocolate Company, said Robert proudly. The company was sold years ago, but we still get a box every year. The company in Boston only makes these special boxes of chocolates at Christmas time.

Who benefits from Jean’s death? asked Mo.

Various charities and my son Frank inherits money when any of us die, said Robert, pouring himself a hefty drink of vodka from a crystal decanter.

Where does Frank live? asked Luther.

Gordon’s Pond, outside of Hampton, but what has he got to do with all this?

The family is always investigated after a murder, Robert. Surely, you’ve watched enough TV to know that, said Sarah,