A Suspicion in Bloom: Wines, Spines, & Crimes Book Club Cozy Mysteries, #8

By Elodie Hart

Christmas on the island was supposed to be full of cheer—not theft, murder, and mystery.

 

This was the first time Harper Lansbury hosted Christmas at her house on Marilee Island, and it was going well—until her parents stumbled on a dead body in the botanical gardens. The last thing Harper wants is to involve her parents in the investigation. That leads to secret book club meetings and sneaking around to talk to suspects. Another photojournalist in competition with the dead man makes a good suspect, but is it a simple case of jealousy? When a botanist ends up dead mere feet from where the first victim died, Harper suspects there's more to the botanical gardens than meets the eye and not everyone is who they say they are. Harper and the book club have to race against time, keep her parents away from the investigation, and solve a murder all before Christmas.

 

Can Harper and the book club ladies figure out who's behind the murders, or will Christmas be ruined?

 

A Suspicion in Bloom is the eighth book in the Wines, Spines, and Crimes Book Club Cozy Mystery series. Get your copy today to join Harper and the book club ladies as they uncover the truth in this fast-paced installment in the Wines, Spines, and Crimes Book Club Cozy Mystery series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elodie Hart
• Release date: Nov 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223120452

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

They were here. Finally.

The ferry from the mainland of California had been slower than normal that morning. Or maybe Harper Lansbury was just impatient for her parents to arrive. Either way, she waved as the ferry docked and passengers began to disembark.

I told you it was on schedule, Dana announced, giving Harper a firm look.

I know, I know. I’m just impatient, Harper said.

Nervous, too, from how you’re hopping around like you have ants in your pants, Bernie said.

It’s been a few months since I’ve seen them and the island has been so peaceful lately that I’m worried something’s going to happen.

Bernie and Dana exchanged looks as the ferry crew began unloading luggage while the passengers waited around.

What does that look mean? Did you hear about a dead body? Harper asked, turning to them as dread pooled in her stomach. These two ladies knew everything that happened on the island. Every morning, weather permitting, they went for a morning stroll along the boardwalk and always ended up at the ferry, hence why they were with her now. Along the way, they picked up tidbits of gossip and idle chatter.

Dana adjusted the turban hat on her head—a light blue one today—and wrinkled her nose. It’s not that we’ve heard anything so much as we’re as worried as you are.

"And antsy. We haven’t had a good crime to solve in months!" Bernie cried, throwing her arms out in dramatic fashion and knocking her big bug-eye sunglasses askew.

By far the more flamboyant of the two, Bernadette Bernie Alcott was sixty-five years young. The bright pink windbreaker covered the matching shirt and cardigan set she no doubt wore. Silver hair in a stylish pixie cut made her vibrant blue eyes pop and framed her heart-shaped. Whereas Dana dyed her hair a rich chestnut color, Bernie let the natural color that comes with age win out.

Her partner in crime, Dana Whitby, was a local artist on the island. At sixty-five as well, she had the youth and vigor of someone half her age. Paint stained her fingertips from hours spent in her art studio every day. Dana always said her style icons were women from the 1960s in Hollywood combined with boho fashion. That translated to turban-style hats accented by large jewels or feathers accompanied by long flowing tunics, stacks of bracelets on each wrist, and necklaces dangling around her neck.

While she waited for her parents to gather their luggage and leave the ferry dock, Harper studied them and smiled. They were so different from her and yet they welcomed her to the island with open arms when she moved there almost six years ago. They also had a point. The island had been quiet lately. Too quiet. That made Harper nervous. She didn’t want to get involved in a situation while her parents were visiting for Christmas.

Heavy green garland strung with brightly colored ornaments and holly draped around the docks. More garland decorated the large wooden that welcomed visitors to the island. It was Christmas on the island, a time when everyone decorated to the extreme and Christmas cheer hung in the air.

Marilee Island, a prime year-round tourist destination off the coast of Southern California only accessible by an hour-long ferry ride, used to be so safe that residents didn’t bother locking their front doors. Then the tourists came and with them a wave of crime. Most of it was petty theft and minor incidents but occasionally, and far more often these days, it involved murder. There hadn’t been anything other than minor incidents for nearly three months now and Harper was worried something would happen during the Christmas season.

Here they come, Bernie said, waving ecstatically at the throng of passengers that moved up the dock.

Harper spotted her parents in the crowd and stepped forward to give her mom a hug as soon as they broke free from the rest of the travelers.

Hi, honey! Oh, I’m so excited to spend Christmas here again. How many years has it been since we did that? Mom asked as she let go of Harper and turned to her husband.

At least ten, Dad said, giving Harper a bear hug.

How was the trip? she asked, helping her mom carry a bag.

Interesting.

It was a tense ferry ride, Dad muttered.

Why? Did something happen? Harper asked, frowning as she glanced at the ferry preparing to load passengers leaving the island to head back to the mainland.

Oh, don’t worry about it. It was just two men having an argument, Mom said, waving away Harper’s concern.

But Dad frowned and glanced quickly at Harper, making her think it wasn’t quite as simple as that. I don’t know. With everything that’s happened on the island lately, maybe it’s more than we think.

But Harper isn’t involved so I don’t think it will lead to murder, Mom said, winking at her in jest.

Hey! They usually die before I’m involved, Harper defended herself.

But not always! Bernie trilled as she and Dana joined them and wrapped her arms around Harper’s parents. My goodness, Jared Lansbury, you’ve sure grown up.

I’ve been grown up for a while now, Miss Bernie, but thanks for noticing, Dad responded, smiling at her and laughing. Whenever he came back to the island, they had the same exchange. Her dad grew up on the island before he moved across the channel to Los Angeles and married her mother.

Oh, that’s them, Mom whispered, nodding her head at two men who stood apart from the rest of the crowd. One, wearing jeans and a plain T-shirt, stood calmly and didn’t say anything but the second one wore a fitted suit with slicked-back hair and stabbed a finger in the other man’s face.

I’m telling you. I’m going to get the scoop on this story before you, no matter what I have to do to get it, the man in the suit yelled, a vein popping out in his forehead as his anger took hold.

I’m not in a competition with you, Landon. The best photographer gets the job. You know that, the man in the jeans said calmly, with hardly any inflection in his voice at all.

You always take projects from me. Well, this time I’m taking it from you, Landon snarled.

From what I gathered, they’re both photographers of some kind, Mom continued quietly, pointing to the camera bag the man in jeans carried over his shoulder.

That doesn’t look like a casual camera that a weekend tourist might bring, Harper noticed.

Across from them, a petite woman in a floral dress watched them with a disapproving look on her face. When she saw Harper watching, she shook her head and shrugged, as if to say men! Then she pushed a pair of sunglasses higher on her nose and rolled her suitcase away from the docks.

Were the two men like that on the ferry? Harper asked her mom.

Well, the one in the suit was. The other one was just minding his own business. A ferry crew member had to talk to the suited man and make him sit somewhere else.

Dad nodded. The crew member said they would call the police on the island if he didn’t calm down.

Harper looked around but didn’t see any of the local law enforcement out and about. I guess he calmed down if the police aren’t here.

As another wave of tourists rushed toward the docks for the ferry back to the mainland, the other two men dispersed, ending the confrontation for the time being. It was a small island so she knew they would most likely run into each other again. She just hoped it didn’t lead to something worse than an argument.

Now, enough of that. We’re on the island and ready for Christmas! Mom said, linking arms with her. Three whole weeks on beautiful Marilee Island with our daughter, Jared! This is heaven.

It’s certainly a delight, Dad said, standing on Harper’s other side.

But I really want to meet this man you started dating. Marc, right? Mom asked coyly, grinning at her.

Mother, don’t bring him up now, Harper hissed, glancing at Bernie and Dana who grinned devilishly at her and Harper knew it was too late. They overheard her mom and wouldn’t let it slide.

Oh, you mean the Viking detective! Bernie exclaimed and waved herself with her hand. "My word, that man is a treat!"

He’s delicious, is what he is, Dana corrected.

Next to Harper, her dad shifted uncomfortably, probably not at all interested in knowing his daughter—his only child—was dating a man. He’d rather think she was a prude than consider she might one day fall in love and get married.

Maybe I should talk to them about this Marc if you’re not going to share any details, Mom said, eyes twinkling at Harper’s embarrassment.

Harper grabbed Mom’s arm and kept her close so she wouldn’t run to Bernie and Dana. If you do that, you’ll have a very exaggerated version of him and then be disappointed when you meet him.

So we do get to meet him?

Harper rolled her eyes slightly. I wasn’t going to hide him in a cupboard and not let you see him.

Good.

He wouldn’t fit, anyway.

Dad sighed heavily and she smiled at him before saying, Let’s go home and you can help me decorate the Christmas tree.

That sounds like a much better idea than gossiping about a man, he mumbled.

Harper smiled wider at him and