Draft Beers & Drop Bears: Trouble Down Under, #3

By P.A. Mason

Flying solo at a wedding. A poisoned guest. Suddenly a suspect.

 

Finally fitting into the small town of Myrtleglen, Kat is thrilled when she's invited to a wedding, and hopes a certain landscaper will be there. But as she makes small talk with a fellow single gal at the reception, her hopes of romance are dashed when the woman collapses after vomiting all over Kat's shoes.

 

When it turned out the woman died in hospital, Kat becomes a suspect for the murder, even though she'd known the victim for all of five minutes. Scrutiny from the regular law was one thing, but as a registered magic user with a flare for all things botanical, Kat had to evade the attention of the magical Inquisition. And with the imminent launch of her nursery venture, clearing her name before her mug shot made it into the paper had to be the number one priority.

 

Getting the jump on the surly detective on the case wasn't so hard.. But getting to the bottom of the murder was going to be tougher than Kat thought. Finding the motive to murder someone she barely knew would take all the magical and mundane resources she could get her hands on.

 

Draft Beers & Drop Bears is the third book in the Trouble Down Under series—a paranormal cozy mystery with a horticultural twist. If you enjoy travel, small town mysteries, a dash of gardening and a splash of magic, you'll love P.A. Mason's quirky Aussie take on small town cozies.

• Language: English
• Publisher: P.A. Mason
• Release date: Mar 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224991525

Book preview

Chapter 1

I caught myself staring at the lacquered, green sign on the shopfront as I watered the newly arrived pots from the nursery wholesaler. I hadn’t quite decided if it was a monstrosity or not. Bill was too polite to give me feedback, and when pressed had only said it was the right color. Did that mean he didn’t care for the new name? Garden Gate Nursery & Supplies might not have been all that inventive, but it had to be an improvement from the faded red lettering underneath which had simply read ‘Sand and Soil’ when I bought the place.

I blinked as I realized the hose was spraying the mesh-wrapped lattice, which served as a border for the nursery instead of the plants on the stand. Distraction was becoming an occupational hazard as the launch date drew near. It wasn’t like I was a perfectionist, but somehow, I imagined an empty lot come time to fire up the barbecue with limp balloons mocking my dreams. I took a deep breath and cut the hose with a shake of my head. I was being irrational. The people of Myrtleglen had been nothing but supportive since I’d taken over the landscaping supplies business, and I had every reason to believe this new venture would be successful. There was no dedicated nursery in the small town, and the offerings at places like Jim’s Hardware were basic, to say the least.

Perhaps it was the notion of wasting the capital I’d invested in getting everything set up. It wasn’t like I had an outstanding track record as a businesswoman. But putting grandiose expectations of making it all back before the end of the month aside, it was called an investment for a reason. And nothing was without risk. Winding the hose back up, I chided myself for having my head in the clouds and returned to the office to double check my day planner. I was sure the woman—Vicki, I thought—said she’d be here by two PM.

By the time I pulled up a stool at the counter, I saw a white van pull up in the front lot. Thumbing the business card Marlene Pike had given me, I confirmed her name was Vicki Greengrass and watched the woman climb out with an armful of folders. Blonde, shoulder length hair framed her face, and she wore a loose linen tunic and sandals. With oversized sunglasses, I couldn’t tell what her first thoughts of my set-up were. I was nervous that she might scoff at the scant products on the shelves inside. Or my attempt to bring the interior up to date with a coat of white paint and neglecting to do anything about the cracked linoleum.

The new bell over the door jingled as she let herself in, and I stood with a smile. She perched her sunglasses on top of her head and returned the grin with a cock of her head.

Kat? she asked.

Sure am. You must be Vicki. I extended my hand as I rounded the counter and Vicki juggled her folders to clasp mine in a brief shake. Glad you could come out on short notice.

No trouble at all, she beamed. I’m in Myrtleglen all the time. I make it my business to be available in regional areas. Now, you said you were launching the place this weekend?

I puffed out my cheeks and nodded. I took over the landscape supply six months ago, but it's the nursery which is a recent addition. It wasn’t going to be a big deal, but Marlene insisted I call you.

Vicki set her folders on the counter and pressed her lips into a firm line as she ran her eyes over the collection of wind chimes and succulents in small ceramic pots which I’d spread out to make the room seem less empty. It hadn’t been that long ago that plants completely overran the entire office, but they were now in neat rows in the front lot.

I do take care of a nursery or two closer to Melbourne, and they’re telling me giftware and coffee make a big difference to their bottom line.

Coffee? I squeaked.

Vicki shrugged. The longer you can keep customers in the shop, the better. I don’t think the two are mutually exclusive, but with something like a launch, you could be leaving money on the table if you don’t have knickknacks for people to spend their money on. But that’s okay, I’ve got you covered.

I exhaled and waved Vicki to a stool at the counter. I’d decided to get rid of the velour sofa which usually sat in the corner, and for a moment pictured the office crammed with people sitting at small garden tables with steaming cups of coffee in front of them. Ugh. I couldn’t imagine anything worse.

I know this is all very eleventh hour, so I understand—

Not at all! Vicki waved a dismissive hand. I’m in wholesale, but my husband and I keep the warehouse well stocked, and our entire business model runs on getting products out of the city and into shops right across the state. We might not have everything you want this week, but we can make a good start. Now, I was thinking in the van about a few collections which might appeal.

Vicki arranged her folders and flicked through them with immaculate French-tipped nails. She started chattering about what people typically see at nurseries nowadays in the city, and I tried to keep up as she pointed out everything from lanterns with candle inserts, infusers, vases and ceramics, wicker ornaments, and faux bronze statuettes of animals alongside more rustic metal-worked chicken likenesses. I made the appropriate sounds of appreciation and swallowed, wondering just how much all of it would cost as Vicki took a tablet out of her purse.

We deal in both high end locally manufactured stock as well as your cheaper imports. Some businesses I work with will either have one or the other exclusively to cater to their customers’ tastes, but a mix of both is what I usually advise. Particularly when you’re starting out.

Umm. I tried to buy myself a little thinking time. I mean, there’s just a lot of choice.

Vicki gave me a shrewd look and glanced over her shoulder at the plants out the front. I’ll bet giftware is the last thing you’re interested in selling. I completely understand. This business is your baby, and you want to see the pots out the front fly off the shelf. But retail is fickle. You’d be surprised how many people will walk into your nursery with every intention of buying a rose bush, can’t find the color they like, and instead walk out with an expensive vase.

Oh, I’m sure they do. And these products look super cute. I’m just… managing my budget. I’ve spent a good amount of cash getting this far.

Ah. Vicki folded her hands in front of her and bit her lip. If budget is going to be a big issue… there are some things we can do as a workaround. So long as you’re good for getting a modest amount of cheaper items, I can get some boutique stuff on consignment. There’s a potter not too far from here who does that kind of thing, and… she cleared her throat. Well, I’ve not long launched my own line of organic cosmetics. I’d have no problem leaving a starter selection here to see if there’s an appetite for them.

Cosmetics? I wondered. At a nursery? Seemed silly to me. But I didn’t want to offend the woman who was trying to help me out. Consignments sounded like a very good way to fill the place up without having to fork over more than I had already on the launch.

Ah, sure. I mean, that sounds great, actually. It’s very generous of you.

Vicki smiled. It’s really just good business. If we work together long term, it’s in my interest that you succeed. Getting started is tough. So long as you know if you break it, you bought it.

I laughed and rolled my eyes. Let’s hope I don’t get too many clumsy customers.

We returned to the discussion of what cheaper items Vicki had in stock that she could get to me by the end of the week, and how they would talk to my point of sales system. The end total tallied on Vicki’s tablet was still eye-popping by my estimation—close to what I’d paid for the setup out front—but I had money in the bank and a small voice in my mind told me to roll the dice.

It’s a deal. I offered my hand, which Vicki looked at a little quizzically before shaking it. I’ll make sure I pay the invoice this afternoon. Usually, I’m a lot more organized than this, I promise.

Vicki smirked and went to open her mouth but turned as the bell over the door rang out. I lifted my gaze, surprised I didn’t notice someone approaching, and met the eyes of Travis Larkins, the landscaper with a penchant for making my heart skip a beat whenever he came in. Not that he did it on purpose. I didn’t think so, anyway.

He lifted his eyebrows and gave a polite smile to us both. It made his green eyes twinkle, which accentuated his bronzed features. Afternoon.

Vicki looked back to me, biting her lip like she was thinking the same thoughts as me, so I cleared my throat and smiled right back. Hey Travis. You wanna give me a minute here? I’m almost finished up.

No, no, Vicki interjected. You go ahead. I’ve got everything I need. I’ll be back on Thursday with what I’ve got in the warehouse ready to go.

Sure. Let me see you out. I stood as Vicki slipped her tablet into her purse and gathered her folders.

No need. Vicki gave me the subtlest of smirks. I never get in between a customer and… well, a customer. And here, I’ve got a lip balm here for you to sample. I’ll bring out a box of stuff next time.

I took the tiny box with a nod and Travis held the door open as Vicki let herself out. My breath caught in my throat as I wondered if I should explain the woman’s presence to the hunky landscaper or simply ask what he was after this time.

Lip balm? Travis gave me a questioning look as he sauntered over. As much as one could expect to saunter in dusty boots and shorts. He took up the stool Vicki left vacated.

Ah, yeah, apparently I’m selling cosmetics now. I chuckled and shook my head.

Business that bad? My sister did those party things years ago.

I snorted. You won’t catch me hounding people for Tupperware parties. No, I just ordered some giftware for the shop and the cosmetics are a side hustle of hers. She kindly offered some on consignment.

Here? Travis made a face and looked around the shop. Don’t tell me you plan on turning this into some new age place that does coffee and sells crystals.

I draw the line at coffee, I countered. And I’m sure Jan Thorpe has the crystal market covered. But why the face? I’m sure a guy like you out in the sun all day could use a good quality lip balm.

His eyes widened, and he glanced at the box I proffered. I’ll pass.

I rolled my eyes theatrically and turned it over to read out the label. C’mon. Citrus infused with vitamin C.

He snatched the small pot from my palm with a playful smile and unscrewed the tiny lid. The scent which escaped reminded me of my morning blend of tea, and I inhaled deeply with an appreciative murmur.

Travis held it up to his nose, then reached over the counter to grab my empty mug and, much to my horror, sniffed the dregs. Clever. I wonder how many flavors she had in that bag.

You think she was manipulating me based on my tea preference? I giggled and took my mug back to slide it further down the counter out of arm's reach. I was more than a little miffed that Travis had noticed something as personal as that about me.

He shrugged and ran a calloused fingertip over the balm. He dabbed his lips with it as I tried to keep my mouth from hanging open, then screwed the lid shut again. No, just a saleswoman. But you’re gonna give me a complex if you fill the place up with fancy stuff. I’ll have to take my boots off at the door before coming in.

It's a nursery, I protested. You’re supposed to come in with boots on.

Unless they’re here for lip balm. He smacked his lips, and I tried not to think inappropriate thoughts of sampling the balm directly. Nevertheless, my cheeks began warming.

Well, the jury is still out on the cosmetics. Most likely they’ll gather dust on the shelf and Vicki will end up taking them elsewhere. Now, I expect you didn’t come here to help me plan a launch, so what is it I can do for you?

Busy, huh? Travis slid his phone out of his pocket and tapped away to bring up what I presumed was a list of supplies for a new job he was working on. When is it again?

Annoyance flared in my chest, and I tapped the printed leaflet right on the counter which announced in bold and green lettering that the launch was this weekend. Are we really having this conversation again?

His face cracked, and he burst out laughing as he handed his phone to me to tally up his order. I’m teasing, Kat. I’ll be there.

You better be, I smirked as I looked over his list with my hand hovering over the keyboard.

I just hoped it wasn’t Travis, my employee Bill, and I standing around awkwardly waiting on the cavalry come Sunday. Talk about excruciating on every level.

Chapter 2

Really? Candles and ornaments? I dunno, I would have thought gardening gloves, some rakes… even gumboots would make sense. Kelly dragged a bucket of flowers across my kitchen floor and set a finished bouquet on the counter.

I wasn’t surprised that my friend and neighbor, who almost exclusively wore rubber boots with a pair of gardening gloves hanging out her back pocket, didn’t vibe with giftware. I’ve got some tools out the front, but you’re probably right. Marlene talked me into it when I saw her at the grocery store. I guess I’ll just have to see if it sells.

Maybe you should put posters up in Goldbury and see if you can coax the tourists over the border. Kelly smirked.

I sighed dramatically but grinned at the notion. The Murray River separated Myrtleglen from Goldbury, which marked the state border. I’d never encountered a rivalry quite like the two Australian towns. Myrtleglen belonged to the locals, and despite the abundance of gift shops, folks grumbled about tourists flooding in as soon as the weather got warm. Goldbury, on the other hand, was filled with resorts, venues with poker machines, and franchise retail.

Let’s leave the launch for the locals. Was your mother able to put the leaflet up in the thrift store?

Op shop, Kelly corrected. And yes. But it’s the word of mouth you want, and Mum talks the ear off anyone who comes in. Trust me, you put on a sausage sizzle, and everyone will be there.

Or maybe some shrimp on the barbie, just for Graham, I teased.

That elicited a snort from Kelly, whose husband enjoyed teasing