Hunt for the Truth: Wines, Spines, & Crimes Book Club Cozy Mysteries, #6

By Elodie Hart

Buried treasure on an island was a thing of legend until Harper found herself roped into a treasure hunt—and another murder.

 

After a week off the island, Harper Lansbury returns to find the locals in a tizzy over a treasure hunt. When Harper and the book club ladies find Leonard Shaw dead, it's all hands on deck to figure out if the Shaw family treasure really exists—and if it's worth killing for. Treasure hunters converge on the island and any one of them could have wanted Leonard dead. With so many suspects to choose from and little evidence to go off of, it comes down to finding the treasure first. The book club ladies put their heads together to solve the treasure-hunting riddle before the killer does. And when Harper becomes a target for the treasure hunters, things go from bad to worse. She has a library to run, a treasure map to decode, a treasure to find, and a budding romance with a handsome detective to figure out—all while solving a murder. It's going to take all the book club ladies working together to solve this one, and maybe a push from the others for Harper to figure out her love life.

 

Will Harper and the book club ladies uncover where the treasure is buried or will the killer get to it first?

 

Hunt for the Truth is the sixth story in the Wines, Spines, and Crimes Book Club Cozy Mystery series. Buy your copy today to join Harper and the book club ladies as they hunt for buried treasure along the way to finding the killer in this fast-paced installment in the Wines, Spines, and Crimes Book Club Cozy Mystery series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elodie Hart
• Release date: Jul 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223316121

Elodie Hart

Elodie Hart was raised on old detective movies and mystery books. She loves a good puzzle (literally and figuratively), cuddling with dogs, and exploring small towns. The Tea Room Cozy Mystery Series is the first of many books she’ll write.

Book preview

Chapter 1

There was nothing quite like this, Harper decided as she dug her toes into the sand and stared out over the ocean. For the past week, she’d been on the mainland of California visiting her family. Now that she was back on Marilee Island, she realized how much she missed the slower pace of life.

In the distance, surfers danced across the waves even in the cooler water. Harper Lansbury smiled at the slightly cooler weather, glad for sweater weather, but loved that it wasn’t cool like it would be in New England. Marilee Island was just off the coast of Southern California and had only two seasons—warm and hot. Thankfully, it had veered off from hot and settled into a pleasant warm now that it was September.

Standing, she brushed the sand off her jeans and walked up to where she left her sunny yellow beach cruiser bicycle. On an island this small, a bike was an excellent means of transportation. The island didn’t allow regular vehicles except for emergency services, which meant residents and visitors walked, rode bicycles, or drove golf carts.

Harper enjoyed the short ride to the island’s small public library where she worked as a librarian. She would be inside for most of the day, so she soaked in the sun while she could.

Pulling up to the bike rack at the library, she left her beach cruiser there and bypassed the library in favor of Bouncing Beans. Right next to the library, Bouncing Beans sat like a beacon of hope for anyone who wanted the best-tasting coffee on the island. It was a luxury Harper indulged in often.

Turning into the small courtyard that held tables and chairs for customers, she threaded her way through the throngs of people and stepped inside—right into a wall of people.

It was packed. That in and of itself wasn’t unusual. After all, Bouncing Beans was the best coffee shop on the island and a main tourist attraction. But it wasn’t summer anymore and while the island had tourists year-round, the amount of tourists packed into the coffee shop was more than normal for the beginning of autumn.

What’s going on? Harper asked.

Sorry, no time to chat, Libby said as she quickly passed by Harper.

Libby Hernandez was Harper’s best friend and the owner of Bouncing Beans. Normally, she had plenty of time for a quick chat in the morning when Harper stopped for coffee on the way to the library. Not today.

Who were all these people? And why were they in the coffee shop?

Harper waited patiently in line while she pondered that, grateful she left home early enough to stop for coffee. Around her, little snippets of conversation floated by.

Will we find the treasure first? a man asked.

Hey, I’ll split it with you fifty-fifty if you want to team up, another man said.

Forget it. There’s not even a map, another man said.

What in the world were they talking about? Harper listened closely but couldn’t make it out. It sounded like they were looking for something and there was some kind of a reward.

She tuned them out when she reached the counter and ordered an iced latte. The frazzled barista quickly took her order and then Harper was sent off to the side to wait for it.

Hushed conversations continued as men and women stood in groups, whispering about something just beyond Harper’s hearing. When her coffee was ready, the weary barista raised it in her direction and set it down on the counter. As a local and a regular customer, the barista knew Harper on sight.

Disappointed that she hadn’t figured out what everyone was talking about, a glance at her watch reminded her that she had a library to get to. Whatever these people were up to, it would have to wait until later when Libby had a chance to talk.

Waving quickly at Libby, Harper pushed her way out of the coffee shop only to immediately be surrounded by a sea of people in the outdoor seating area.

From the snippets of conversation she heard as she passed by, it was more of the same as what everyone talked about inside. Whatever it was, it had everyone all worked up.

Leaving the chaos behind her, Harper walked over to the library. As soon as she stepped inside, she left behind the buzz of morning activity on the island and entered the hushed quiet of the library. Carpet softened her footsteps and quiet murmurs punctured the otherwise silent space.

Inhaling deeply, Harper breathed in the smell of books and that scent that could only ever be known as library. Ever since she was a little girl, that was one of her favorite smells. So much so, that she became a librarian when she grew up.

And there she was, at her own little personal haven on the quaint island that she called home. It was a dream come true and sometimes she had to pinch herself.

Meow!

Glancing over to her left, Harper smiled at Pippin’s soft greeting. The sleek black cat sat on the checkout counter, peering up at her with eerie green eyes. After he sneaked into the library a few years ago and nearly gave Harper a heart attack, the librarians all unanimously decided he could be an honorary librarian. Now he lived at the library and greeted anyone who walked through the doors.

Good morning, Pippin. What kind of mischief have you gotten up to today? she murmured, scratching under his chin the way he liked and laughing at his loud, motorboat purr.

He blinked at her and squinted his eyes when she stopped scratching his chin.

I would pet you all day but I have work to do. You don’t want Martin to fire me, do you? she asked.

Meow.

I didn’t think so. Come along.

She headed for the employee lounge to set her purse down before heading to her desk. Bypassing the rows and aisles of books, she strode through the center of the library—her favorite place. A large dome rose up in the center of the ceiling, with skylights fanning out in a starburst to let natural light rain down on the cozy reading space below. Comfy chairs sat over a large rug, with individual reading lamps next to each for a relaxed reading environment.

Along the far wall was the computer and research section. Near that were the study tables, each with their own desk lamp.

Pippin followed along, brushing against her leg whenever she stopped to straighten a bookshelf or scoot a step stool over so nobody tripped. After she set her purse down, she went straight to the employee-only area.

Settling down at her desk, Harper turned her computer on and checked her to-do list for the day. Now that the summer reading program was over, it was time to turn her attention to the fall events at the library. They liked to keep kids busy and engaged with books year-round, so they always had some kind of event going on.

Are you ready? Reb asked, her round face popping up over the top of Harper’s computer, nearly scaring her witless.

Harper gasped and asked, Ready for what?

For the treasure hunt!

The what?

Reb sighed and set her hands on her plump hips. The treasure hunt. You know, the Shaw family treasure?

I’m drawing a blank, Harper said, furrowing her eyebrows as she thought but then wondered if the murmured conversations at the coffee shop were about that.

Reb sighed. Sometimes, I forget that you aren’t originally from the island.

Rebecca Reb Devon was one of the assistant librarians and had been at the library for what seemed like forever. When Harper used to visit the island to stay with Grandma Angie for the summer, she remembered Reb being at the library back then. Her blonde bob swung against her shoulders as she shook her head at Harper in mock disappointment.

Are we not going to do library work today? Martin asked, frowning at them over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses as he walked over to his desk with a cup of coffee in his hand.

But the treasure! We can’t ignore that, Reb insisted dramatically.

Martin sighed. As the head librarian, he had been at the library for as long as Reb and was used to her antics. He was the only professional librarian other than Harper on the island. In his mid-fifties, Martin Hayworth had the patience of a saint and was kind to a fault. He stared at Reb with his friendly blue eyes, then sighed and sat down at his own desk near Harper before he waved his hand for Reb to continue.

Grinning, Reb slapped a white flyer down on Harper’s desk and stabbed at it with a red-painted fingernail. Cautiously picking it up, Harper read the information and then stared up at Reb in shock.

A treasure hunt. A real, live treasure hunt.

When did this happen? Harper asked.

Over the weekend. They popped up all over town and Leonard put an official announcement in the newspaper, Martin said tiredly.

Reading the flyer again, Harper frowned. It sounded like the whole town was invited on a treasure hunt on the island. Real treasure. There was a partial map included on the flyer, too, along with a riddle. Studying the map, she realized there was no X-marks-the-spot and no trail leading to the treasure. It was just a modern-day map of the island with visible landmarks like the residential neighborhoods, the observatory, the lighthouse, and the gazebo.

I was on the mainland visiting my family and just got back last night, Harper murmured, thinking the peace of the past week with her family was about to vanish.

That’s why you didn’t know about it, Reb said, nodding.

So, what’s it about? I mean, is there real treasure or is this just a town event? How did this even start?

Martin sighed as Reb’s grin grew even wider. When he nodded, Reb began.

The Shaw family founded the island 150 years ago. There’s a local legend that says Carter Shaw, the founder of Marilee Island, buried his family’s secret treasure on the island somewhere. But Carter Shaw never told anyone where it was, Reb said