Deadly Devices: A Small Town Cozy Mystery

By E.Z. Pennington

Relaxation, a little quiet contemplation...what could go wrong?
Becky was finally doing the one thing that made her the happiest: painting. She had started on a painting that was just missing something, much like her life was missing a little excitement. Though she was now taking care of both her store and teaching a painting class, things had become dull in her life. That was until Summer, the Cookie Queen, was discovered murdered just a few blocks away from her store.
Becky knows that she can’t return to a peaceful life of painting and running her shop until Summer’s murderer is found. But the closer Becky gets to the truth, the more dangerous things become.
This Cozy Mystery Novel is packed with quirky characters, rousing romps and a whodunnit that wraps up cleanly. No cliffhangers, no curse words and no obscenity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gizmo Media
• Release date: May 21, 2021

Book preview

17

Chapter 1

Becky stared at the easel in front of her, a paintbrush in her hand. Paint caked her fingers and oversized sweater. Thankfully her hair was pulled out of her eyes. She stared at her work, a sweeping sunset over a landscape. She really was in a landscape mood and dabbed a little more color into the sun. She listened for a moment to the song that was playing on her phone. She would admit that she had a rather basic taste in music and that she was listening to a playlist that curated all the best songs of the nineties. She looked at her new phone for a minute, the memories of why she had to get a new phone momentarily disrupting her though process. She blocked the memory from her mind and focused back on her painting .

Becky Olson had forty minutes until her class began, and if she tried she could finish this painting before then.

She didn’t realize how much she had missed painting till she started doing it again. She was grateful the community center, and for her neighbor Mickey Dunner who had put these classes together. She had two jobs now that she was both teaching art classes and running a shop in town, but she was also now able to spend the majority of her time painting, which she liked.

It was the second week of classes and she was surprised at how quickly Mickey was able to pull everything together. The minute Becky said she would teach, there were sign ups and supplies drives that Mickey had spearheaded.

It was amazing.

Outside of the window, the night snowstorm raged on. Luckily, Rose Hollow was a very small town and she only have a couple minutes’ walk from her home. Becky could just picture getting into bed with the new kitten she’d adopted, Celia, named for a character in one of her favorite Shakespeare plays, and go to bed, curling under her thick weighted blanket and not moving until her alarm went off at six in the morning.

But before that, she had a class to teach.

She had closed her store, Carnegie's Antiques, a few hours ago and had come directly from there to the center, sure that she could finish the painting she had been working on for almost a week.

She adjusted the sleeves of her sweater and exhaled quietly. Something was missing, but she wasn't sure what.

Becky put her paintbrush in the mug of her left, and lifted the mug that sat to her right to her lips. She soon realized that instead she had made a grave mistake, putting her paintbrush in her coffee and sipped instead the dirty paint water.

It wasn't the first time she had done so, and it wouldn't be the last. Becky pursed her lips and put her mug down. She then started rinsing off her paintbrush before the coffee ruined the nice brush. She rinsed her hands of the caked on paint and was pleased that her hands washed clean easily. What she needed now was to step away from the canvas on her easel before she got into any more trouble. After all, it wasn’t going anywhere.

What she needed now was a new mug of coffee. She picked up the mug to the left. She had tons of time to make a new pot and return in time for class.

And even if she didn't, everyone in her class knew where she would be there. She wouldn't be hard to find.

The community center had a little break room and Becky found herself there as she brewed more coffee. She rinsed out the mug and set it on the counter, changing the song on her phone as she waited for the coffee to finish brewing.

She could never decide what to listen to. The hits of the nineties were not helping her get into a painting mood. Instead, Becky tried to focus on what she would have her class paint that night. They were working on still life paintings, but she had grown bored of the typical bowl of fruit. She was too kind to do that to her own students.

Becky wanted to introduce live models, but that would have to wait until her students became more experienced. Her class consisted of twelve people and all of them were relatively new to art.

She stared at her mug sitting on the counter. Maybe that would do.

I thought I would find you here. The voice made her jump. It was barely audible over her music. She turned to see her neighbor, Mickey, dressed in a thick, warm sweater and a pair of soft jeans, watching her carefully.

I needed to top up for before class, Becky said.

Of course you did, Mickey said. Mickey was Becky's closest friend in Rose Hollow, and the older woman was much like a surrogate mother to her. She didn’t take Becky's class, but came to watch and make sure things were moving along.

I had to get a new cup of coffee after I put my paintbrush in it. Becky explained. Mickey nodded wisely. Surely she understood the mix up.

Are you ready for class tonight? Mickey asked.

Yes, Becky said. Since she had started teaching, she found that she hadn't been able to stop smiling. She was really enjoying this new adventure. How is Celia?

She's good. On your bed, Mickey said. She was asleep when I left. Celia was only a few months old and Becky had adopted the kitten on a whim, an impulse to make her store and apartment not feel so lonely. Becky sometimes envied the kitten who spent much of her time sleeping. None the less, she wasn’t willing to leave the kitten alone for so many hours. She was thankful that Mickey was willing to stop by and check on the little feline.

Good. Thank you for checking in on her, Becky said. The coffee machine beeped and Becky took the pot and refilled her mug.

How’s your painting coming along? Mickey asked.

It’s missing something, Becky said honestly. But I'll find out what it is eventually. She picked up her mug and resisted the urge to take the pot of coffee with her. Do you want to take a look?

Of course, Mickey said. Oh, I bought a pie from Rachel.

Oh, good, Becky said. She was seeing a lot less of her friend, Rachel Davis, the diner’s famous pie baker, since Rachel started taking acting classes that required her to go into Portland three times a week. I miss her. I hope she's doing okay.

She's doing fine, Mickey assured her. She said she would stop by the store tomorrow.

Wonderful, Becky said. They made their way back to the multipurpose room. Becky set her mug down while Mickey stared at the easel.

It's nice. Mickey said diplomatically.

But? Becky asked, raising an eyebrow.

It's boring, Mickey admitted. Becky winced, but that was what she was thinking too as well.

Maybe I should just paint over the whole thing and started again, Becky said. Perhaps try something new. Paint something that hasn't been painted one million times.

Wow, you've gotten dramatic, Mickey said with a chuckle. Becky nodded. It was true. She felt as if spending hours in the quiet multipurpose room, staring at something she had made, had made her a whole lot more dramatic.

I can't help it, Becky said. Anyways, I could use the help setting up. Together, Mickey and Becky set up the easels in a half circle, setting fresh canvasses on them and placing paintbrushes and paints and fresh cups of water at every work station.

This was always the best part, setting up for class before it began. Becky always thought that the empty canvasses held so much potential that was just waiting to be used.

She sat back down at her own easel. She would have to move the canvas she was painting.

Don’t doubt yourself, Becky. You are good at painting, Mickey said.

Yeah, I guess. I'm just rusty or something, Becky said. I need to really challenge myself.

Or you could take it slow, Mickey offered. Jillian Tarbard is looking to commission something new for her house. I'm sure she would love to hear from you. Becky paused. It would be nice to really try something new. She had met Jillian Tarbard a couple of times when she was in the store.

I'm sure I can come up with something, Becky said. Mickey smiled, glad to hear her younger friend was able to consider something different.

Good, Mickey said. I'm glad to hear it. What is everyone painting today?

The coffee pot, Becky said. She knew it was a last minute decision, but she sort of liked it. At least it was different and would provide some sort of depth for her students to try to capture with paint.

You're sure going to make things interesting for your students, Mickey said with a chuckle. They still had twenty minutes before class was supposed to start, but Becky knew that people would be trickling in soon. She taught people coming straight from work, all of which were wanting to try something new. She liked that. It was always a very relaxed atmosphere.

So, Mickey said. I heard two of your students, Emily and Jonathon, are sort of interested in each other. Mickey was a fountain of gossip, much like most of the people in this town. Becky tried not to pay attention to the Rose Hollow rumor mill, especially because she so often was a part of it. She thought it was bad karma to participate.

They'd be a nice couple, Becky said, uninterested. Mickey nodded seriously.

You should get them to sit next to each other, or something. Mickey said.

I don't assign seats. This isn't a high school, Becky said. Mickey raised an eyebrow. She was always gossiping, and loved playing matchmaker. It was funny, but only when Becky wasn't at the other end of Mickey's schemes.

You should consider it at least, Mickey said seriously.

I will do just that. I’ll consider it, Becky said. The door opened and the first of her students began to trickle in. They took places at easels, talking between themselves as they noticed Becky was already in deep conversation. Becky usually let them get set up on their own, and she would do the same thing.

---

Looks good, Jonathon, Becky said. The majority of her class was her walking around her students and checking on their progress. By luck, Jonathon, a dentist who was divorced with three kids, and Emily, a librarian, were seated next to each other without any influence from Becky. Emily was dressed in the way Becky knew she wanted someone to notice. Emily pursed her red lips as she stared at the half full coffee pot.

You need to add a little more color here, Emily, Becky said gently.

All I want to do is drink this coffee, Emily told her seriously. Becky grinned.

Try to picture it as a liquid, Becky added. You'll get it. An hour of the class had already past and she was making sure that her students were on the right track.

How did you do that? Emily whispered, leaning into Jonathon. Across the room, Mickey raised her eyebrows. Becky shook her head. She circled around her students again. She was playing the same nineties playlist and some people were singing along.

She realized that she was smiling. She was happy, which felt weird. Becky seated herself at her own station and lifted her paintbrush. She often liked to do the same things she assigned her class. It kept it fun and interesting.

I was thinking that, at the end of the month, we could hold a little art show, Becky said to her students as she leaned around her canvas. We could show off how much you all have improved. Might be fun.

My kids would like that, Jonathon said. Becky still didn't believe that he was old enough to have a teenager in high school and twins in middle school. He still looked young, perhaps even her age. He must have had children at a young age.

Which was staggering to think about.

Well, how about we all think it over? Becky asked as the rest of her class murmured their agreement. It was something she would have to organize, and she wasn't sure she was up to the task. It would be good exposure if she wanted these classes to continue, and she did want them to continue.

Becky! David called from behind his paitning, another employee of Minnie's Diner where Rachel worked. She didn't know him too well, but he was clever and quiet and those were character traits she liked.She got back up and moved to where David was sitting. He was the closest to the window, and if he felt the draft coming in from the window he didn't say anything at all. He never complained.

Yes? Becky asked, leaning over him.

I don't think I get this, David said. He was a perfectionist. He was always trying to do something perfectly on the first try, whether or not there was a learning curve that everyone expected from learning how to paint for the first time.

In just two weeks, however, he had improved by leaps and bounds. She wondered what he had been practicing on at home.

It looks good, Becky said. I would add some shading over here, and I would add a little bit of grey to make the glass look more shiny. He did as he was told. Becky could appreciate that he was an eager student who wanted to succeed each time her tried.

She returned to her station. She dipped her paintbrush in her cup of water and raised it again.

Are you considering doing anything for the festival? Mickey asked. Becky had been under the impression that Rose Hollow didn't hold a party or a festival every other week like fake small towns on TV. This was untrue. There was a party, a gala, a function, something going on all the time.

I'm gonna have a table. Just small things, Becky said.

I love the late winter festival, Emily added from across the room. She looked up from her easel, her features bright. Have you ever been? It's more like a carnival really, with games and snacks and all the businesses trying to sell everything. It's so much fun.

Becky nodded. Well, I'll be there. She didn't have a choice. She had a table of antique jewelry in her store that she wanted to sell as soon as possible.

I'll be running the hot chocolate station, Jonathon added. My kids love it. Or, they used to at least.

They're just getting older, Becky said, trying to comfort him. I'm sure it's a thing the kids do. As her students talked about the upcoming festival, Becky turned back to her work. She put her paintbrush back down.

"Since you have LJ working for you, you'll be able to actually