Slain at Siren's Lake: Rosie Reynolds Paranormal Mysteries, #4

By Ron Tucker

What should be a wonderful winter weekend trip turns into a murder scene!

 

When Rosie and friends travel to Siren's Lake Resort, they are expecting a wonderful weekend getaway. What they don't expect is the owner of the resort to turn up dead.

 

The owner, Cassandra, had come to Greylock Cove multiple times to ask Rosie for help. When Cassandra winds up dead, it's ruled as an accident, but Rosie thinks there has to be something more.

 

She's determined to find out what really happened, but as she investigates more, she may have stumbled across a sinister plot. As Rosie gets closer to what she thinks really happened to Cassandra, she discovers the truth is even more devious than she believed.

 

Slain at Siren's Lake is the fourth book in the Rosie Reynolds Paranormal Mysteries. It's filled with paranormal characters and a pinch of magic.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ron Tucker
• Release date: Apr 16, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224509959

Book preview

Chapter

One

The life of a baker can sometimes be like crème brûlée. A lot of times, you have to break through the hard shell on top in order to enjoy the benefits of the creamy, delicious inside.

At least, that was what I tried to explain to Hillary as I worked with her in the bakery. It was a special day—not only because I’d been helping Hillary learn the ropes of the bakery for nearly a month and a half since I’d hired her, but because Trish was in town too.

Trish had been my assistant manager at Rosie Cakes, my Los Angeles bakery. It was nice to finally have her visit my new spot. She was only a couple of years younger than me, and she was a wolf shifter from down in Southern California.

Okay, I think I got it, Hillary said as she eyed the small cake in front of her.

For the past week, I’d been helping Hillary learn the ropes of piping royal icing. Though there were a number of tools one could use, really nailing icing and getting the perfect curve could take a while. I was impressed with Hillary’s determination and her knack for picking up a lot of baking skills. It also helped that Trish had decided to stay a little while and help her. I always thought of Trish as a whiz when it came to piping icing on cakes.

Trish and I both watched as Hillary leaned over the front counter of the bakery. Her eyes narrowed at the small vanilla cupcake in front of her. Her fingers tightened a little more around the piping bag. She tucked a strand of her light-brown hair behind her ear and then squeezed out some icing using the petal nozzle she was practicing with. Carefully, she spread yellow frosted petals around the vanilla cupcake while twisting the small treat around with her other hand. When she finished, she’d done cute little yellow petals almost in the shape of a daisy.

She didn’t look up at Trish or me for confirmation. She set the yellow piping bag down and picked up a second one, filled with white frosting and bearing a star tip. She went right for the center of the cupcake, placing little dollops of frosting in the middle. She finished placing the small dots in the middle and looked over at me anxiously.

Perfect, I told her with a smile.

Yay! She shimmied her shoulders.

Now, let’s move on to advanced piping techniques for wedding cakes.

Her face dropped.

Okay, maybe not yet. I giggled, which earned a smile of relief from her.

Thank you so much, Trish, she said. As she did, she eyed her cupcake with pride. Those tips you gave me really came in handy.

Everything I learned, I learned from Rosie here.

She’s being modest, I told Hillary, poking Trish in the side. Trish is an amazing baker, and I wouldn’t be doing this with anyone else. That’s how much I trust her.

"And I wouldn’t be doing this with anyone else, either. I mean, having you as a consultant puts my mind at ease, to say the least."

Trish smiled as the bakery door chimed. Dasha walked in, bright and smiley, as she usually did. She gave Hillary and me both a wave before she looked over at Trish with a confused smile.

Hey, Dasha, I called over to her. How was school?

I received the usual shrug from her. Two more days and I’m on winter break. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to it. Sliding her backpack under the counter, she slipped on her apron and started to tie it in front.

Dasha, before you do that, I’m afraid I have some bad news.

She gave me a curious look.

I’ve hired a replacement for you. I just need someone who’s here when you’re not available for school. I’m sorry.

Her eyes widened in horror. They snapped over to Trish and Hillary, who both looked back at me, stunned. It was an impromptu joke that had just hit me, so neither of them knew what I was talking about. As I looked over at Dasha, I could tell the joke had definitely not landed. Her eyes began to water, and her usual smile morphed into a frown.

What? she squeaked.

Oh, no! No, no, no. I hurried over to her, wrapping my arms around the young witch. I’m joking. I’m only kidding.

You’re kidding? she whispered.

Yes. I’m sorry.

Wow, way to go, Rosie, Trish said sarcastically.

I held Dasha at arm’s length. Are you okay?

She nodded, letting out a sniff. Yeah, just don’t do that anymore.

I nodded back, giving her a chuckle. I won’t. Trish, this is Dasha. Dasha, this is Trish.

Seeming to regain her composure, Dasha smiled. Trish? From Los Angeles?

That’s me. Trish smiled. I’ve heard so many good things about you, Dasha.

Really? Dasha smiled as a light splash of red floated over her face.

Rosie says you’re a great baker.

Thank you. Dasha stared down at the marble-tiled floor for a minute in embarrassment.

I do have news, and it’s not bad, I explained, giving Dasha another hug. It’s actually great news.

Really? Dasha asked.

Trish is now the new owner of Rosie Cakes.

Dasha’s eyes widened in shock.

I’ve come to realize it’s a little too much to continue as the owner of the LA bakery when I’m always here. I want to be here without feeling like I’m neglecting Rosie Cakes so much. So Trish and I worked out a deal, and she’s the new owner. I’ll be helping with a few things here and there, almost like a consultant. Plus she gets exclusive rights to any new recipes I concoct going forward.

Trish smiled, taking off her apron and walking over to hang it up on the far wall. Like I said, I wouldn’t do this with anyone else. But I love Rosie Cakes, and I can’t wait to keep it going. You’ve been fabulous to work for, Rosie.

Well, you’ve been an amazing assistant manager. How are the other bakers you hired last month?

They’re good. She grabbed her purse from under the counter then walked over to give me a hug. Speaking of, I guess I should head back to San Francisco to make sure I’m not late for my flight back home. Thank you again for this opportunity.

I should be thanking you, I replied. If I wasn’t so confident that you’d keep it running as smoothly as it has been these last few months, I would’ve considered simply closing it down. I’m so glad it gets to keep thriving with you.

She smiled and then offered a wave to Hillary and Dasha. Take care, Hillary. Nice to finally meet you, Dasha.

Bye, both called back as she walked through the front door and out to her car.

With the two girls next to me, I smiled at them both.

I can’t believe you’re selling Rosie Cakes, Dasha said.

I like to think of it as Trish inheriting it. She’s a fabulous baker. It really got to be a little much. This way, I know it’s in good hands, and I’m still attached to it a little.

Hillary giggled. Yeah, plus now you’ve got time for more dates with Miles.

I narrowed my eyes, giving her a grin. That had nothing to do with it.

But it didn’t hurt, right? she teased.

Dasha tried to keep a smile from her face as I shook my head. Miles and I had gone on a real date once we got back from Bonnie’s wedding. Since then, we’d gone on a few of them. It was finally feeling as if we had a real relationship. No more uncertain pondering how he’d felt since our first coffee date. We had another one in a few hours, and I’d have been lying if I’d said I wasn’t looking forward to it.

I turned and walked back toward the counter and Hillary’s piping attempts. Anyway, enough about dates. Let’s get back to your training.

How’s the piping coming along? Dasha asked as she finished tying her apron.

She’s a natural, I answered.

I really like it, Hillary said. It’s so much fun. I didn’t think I’d find this stuff as creative as I do. I thought it was just measuring out ingredients and popping things into ovens. But there’s a real art to this stuff.

Dasha bumped her shoulder against her friend’s, grinning ear to ear. Hillary was a good six inches taller than her, only an inch or two shorter than me.

I truly believe there’s a magic to baking that doesn’t have anything to do with potions or spells, I said, admiring Hillary’s frosted cupcake. Once we get to the magical ingredients, though, it gets extra fun.

I can’t wait. Mom and Dad use their magic so sparingly. I’m not very proficient with mine.

Don’t worry, Dasha said. Rosie will get you casting delicious spells in a heartbeat.

I laughed. "Well, I don’t know about that. Most of my magical recipes are ingredient based, but it can be fun."

The front door chimed, and we all looked up to see Cassandra Mathis come in.

In the last month, she’d visited the shop once a week. Not to buy any baked treats, mind you, but to ask me to work for her. Not as a private baker or for a catering job, but she seemed to think I was a magical investigator of sorts.

Apparently, rumors had traveled out to Coral Reef Island about a few of my encounters with unsavory characters, such as a former high school classmate who had tried to kill me with dark magic and a vampire I inadvertently threw down the staircase of the Greylock lighthouse.

Dasha and Hillary both left my side, walking to the other end of the counter. They looked like they were organizing the baked goods case, but I knew they were simply staying out of the way. Cassandra had been less than cordial with them the last couple of times she had come into the shop.

Hello, Cassandra, I said, trying not to sound frustrated. I already knew what she was going to ask.

On all her previous visits, she’d implored me to work for her and to find out who was fiddling with Siren’s Lake Resort. Apparently, a number of odd things had happened at her family’s resort, located an hour away in Greylock Forest. I’d told her to talk to Sheriff Variks for help or some other form of assistance, but she was adamant that it had to be handled independent of any official police or sheriff investigation.

She was a tall woman, at least six inches taller than my five-foot-six height. She had sun-kissed skin that almost sparkled a light bronze, and she looked very fit. However, I wasn’t sure whether it was just the determined look she kept in place that was giving me that impression. Oh, and she was a siren.

Her long black hair was slicked back as if she’d walked out of the ocean only minutes beforehand. Like the previous times she’d been in the bakery, she wore business attire. Today, it was a sleek black suit jacket and pants with a teal blouse underneath. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have thought she was a lawyer of some sort. But knowing she was part of the Mathis family, I knew she wasn’t.

The Mathis family was almost like royalty to the sirens. They owned half of Coral Reef Island plus several paranormal properties around the country, including Siren’s Lake Resort, which she no doubt was about to inquire about again.

Rosie, how are you?

I’m fine, thank you. I think I know better by now, but can I interest you in a pastry? We have some fresh turnovers.

She pinched her lips to the side and shook her head. No, I don’t think so. I take it by that response your answer is still no?

Cassandra, I really wish I could help, but I’m just a baker.

"You may be just a baker, but you’re resourceful. You’ve caught witches and vampires."

"I didn’t catch anyone. I was only trying to help my friends."

Like I said, resourceful.

Look, I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t know the first thing to do for whatever kind of investigation you’re trying to get me to look into.

It’s sabotage! I need someone I can trust.

Then you should go to Sheriff Variks. Siren’s Lake is in Greylock County.

She let out a long sigh. She gently tapped her clutch with a couple of fingers, staring at me. Her amber eyes pierced me, almost as if she was trying to figure out another way to convince me. Then, for the first time in weeks, I saw something I hadn’t seen before: a smile. It was faint, almost as if she was fighting it, but it was there.

You know what? I’m sorry, she said. I’ve wanted someone to investigate this problem for so long … I mean, it’s causing a great deal of stress for my family. Siren’s Lake is one of our most profitable properties. I guess it’s just been weighing on me, that’s all.

I was genuinely taken aback but grateful for her understanding. I know you said you didn’t want any official investigation with the sheriff’s station, but I really do suggest you talk to the sheriff. He’s a good man.

She shook her head hesitantly. Maybe. Would you mind if I used your ladies’ room for a moment before I left?

Of course not.

She walked around the display case, and I escorted her through the doors that separated the front of the bakery from the back room, stopping at the entry.

It’s right there in the corner. I pointed over to the left side of the building.

Thank you.

As I walked back to my spot behind the counter, Dasha and Hillary came over to me. Wow, I didn’t expect her to be so … nice, Dasha said.

I wouldn’t call it nice, Hillary replied. More like cordial. But, yeah, a little unexpected.

I lifted my shoulders with a smirk and began moving a couple of trays around in the bake case. Sometimes you just have to know when to give up.

Still, you’re not the least bit curious about what she’s trying to hire you for? Hillary asked.

I’m curious, sure. But not enough to be hired for some sort of investigation job. I’m a baker, not a detective.

The door chimed, and in walked a customer, Sarah. She was a local.

Hello, girls, she greeted us all.

Hi, Sarah, Dasha responded with a chipper voice. You’re back for the cherry-fairy cupcakes, aren’t you?

Sarah smiled widely, nodding. You were right the last time I was in. They were just too good.

Dasha went over to the bake case as Cassandra came out from the back room.

Thank you, Rosie, Cassandra said. Can I speak with you for a moment outside?

Sure, I