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  A Body on Fitzgerald’s Bluff

  Seaview Cottages Cozy Mystery #1

  Anna Celeste Burke

  A BODY ON FITZGERALD’S BLUFF

  Copyright © 2018 Anna Celeste Burke

  https://desertcitiesmystery.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced without written permission of the publisher except brief quotations for review purposes.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Anna Celeste Burke

  Illustration by © Jo Ann Snover | Dreamstime.com & Photo by © Miraswonderland | Dreamstime.com

  Books by USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author,

  Anna Celeste Burke

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  Dedication

  Here’s to finding the courage to start over when life throws us a curve—no matter how old we are!

  Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Cast of Characters

  1 A Body on the Bluff

  2 What Body?

  3 Home Sweet Home

  4 Dinner and a Murder

  5 Resident Sugar Daddy

  6 The County Hoosegow

  7 Money or Men?

  8 Rivals ‘Til the End?

  9 Money and Men

  10 Scarves, Scones, and Scripts

  11 A Bad Boy Shopper?

  12 A Man Named Boo

  13 Blue Shue Bribery

  14 All in the Family

  15 Murder, Men, and Motives

  16 The Blue Haven Bluejackets

  17 The Man Who’s Not on the Bridge

  18 Domino’s Game

  19 Good as Gold

  RECIPES

  MUFFINS

  QUEEN CITY CHILI

  DEATH BY CHOCOLATE CAKE

  VANILLA BEAN SCONES

  SHOO FLY PIE

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  As always, a huge thank you to my husband for his endless patience and unwavering encouragement. Without his adventurous spirit urging me on, I might never have chosen the path that led me to become a fiction writer or been able to stay the course.

  Thanks to Peggy Hyndman for hanging in there through several edits of this book. I’m grateful for her help as A Body on Fitzgerald’s Bluff has made its way from the Summer Snoops and Cozy Crimes limited edition, multi-author box set to become a slightly expanded standalone book! Her support and enthusiasm for this first book in a new series has been a big boost.

  Another big thank you for the readers who support and encourage me—especially my “ARC Angels” who read my books before they’re published. I appreciate the feedback many provide while I’m writing as well as their cheerleading. Some have even granted me permission to name a character after them! In this book it’s a long list:

  Rosemary Pfeiffer

  JoAn Varner

  Judi Stephenson

  Tara Brown

  Andrea Stoeckel

  Doward Wilson

  Valerie Bargewell

  Robyn Chappell

  Karen Vaughan

  Carmel Schneider

  Peggy Clayton

  Donna Wolz

  Jeanine Carlson

  Penny Wilfort

  Vicki Hardman

  Thank you!

  Cast of Characters

  Dear reader, if you’d prefer to be surprised as each character is introduced please skip this section!

  GRAND OLD LADY DETECTIVES:

  Miriam Webster, who lives in Hemingway Cottage, was a bookkeeper, is a talented baker, and her fur baby is a Dalmatian, named Domino. Domino discovered the body behind Fitzgerald’s Bluff.

  Penelope Parker lives in Brontë Cottage, is a member of the Seaview Cottages Walkers Club, and has a Jack Russell terrier, named Emily. Penelope prefers to be called Charly in honor of her favorite writer, Charlotte Brontë, and is a retired criminology professor.

  Cornelia “Neely” Conrad lives in Christie Cottage and is a self-proclaimed night owl who loves to read. Neely is retired and was an actress, turned costume designer and makeup artist.

  Marty Monroe lives in Fitzgerald Cottage and is a member of the Seaview Cottages Walkers Club. Before retiring, Marty spent decades working as a buyer for high-end department stores.

  Midge Gaylord lives in Austen Cottage and is a member of the Seaview Cottages Walkers Club. Midge is an ex-Army trauma care nurse, with ties to the local medical community.

  OTHER SEAVIEW COTTAGES RESIDENTS AND EMPLOYEES:

  Alyssa and Alfred “Alf” Gardener, known as The Gardeners, live in [Beatrix] Potter Cottage.

  Carl Rodgers lives in Steinbeck Cottage and is the former manager of a collection agency.

  Edgar Humphrey lives in Twain Cottage, is very rich, and loves young, attractive women.

  Greta Bishop lives in Garbo Cottage and is a realtor and a Seaview Cottages HOA board member.

  Howard Humphrey is Edgar’s nephew and rents the old Sinclair Cottage on the beach.

  JoAn Varner is the Seaview Cottages Clubhouse manager.

  Joe Torrance, who lives in Chandler Cottage, is a retired auto dealership service manager and mechanic.

  Peggy Clayton is a Seaview Cottages HOA board member.

  Robyn Chappell rents Shakespeare Cottage.

  Rosemary Pfeiffer is the receptionist for the Seaview Cottages Clubhouse.

  THE VICTIM:

  Diana Durand is the murder victim who was found behind a bluff near the beach.

  LAW ENFORCEMENT:

  Darnell Devers is a Deputy Sheriff for whom all the locals have various pet names due to his “do as little as possible attitude.”

  Henry “Hank” Miller is the personable and competent lead detective assigned to investigate the death of Diana Durand.

  Karen Vaughan, a pleasant young woman with a no-nonsense demeanor, is a Crime Scene Investigator.

  SECONDARY CHARACTERS:

  Andrea
“Andi” Stoeckel is a sales clerk at the Blue Moon Boutique.

  Blue Haven Bluejackets Summer Camp attendees, Nathan and Brandon, are young brothers who have important clues about what happened on the beach.

  Boo is the nickname for the victim’s San Francisco business partner.

  Carmel Schneider is Neely Conrad’s undercover name.

  Dave Winick is a Blue Haven executive who dreams of being the resort’s CEO.

  Donna Wolz is the retired manager at Blue Moon Boutique.

  Doward Wilson is a truck stop cook.

  Jeanine Carlson was one of the victim’s coworkers at Blue Moon Boutique.

  Judi Stephenson is a Blue Moon Boutique sales clerk.

  Mark Hudson sells merchandise at Blue Haven Pro Shop and gives golf lessons.

  Mike Evans worked in Guest Services at Blue Haven Resort.

  Penney Wilfort was the victim’s immediate supervisor at the Blue Moon Boutique.

  Tara Brown is Miriam Webster’s undercover name.

  Tony Templeton is the Dunes Club’s chef.

  Valerie Bargewell is a sales clerk at Two.

  Vicki Hardman is a sales clerk at Blue Shue.

  1 A Body on the Bluff

  “Call 911! Call the police!” Marty Monroe was out of breath as she ran into the Seaview Cottages Clubhouse and shrieked that command. “There’s a body on the bluff!”

  “Which one of us is it?” Carl Rodgers hollered. Marty blinked a couple of times without responding. The tall, lanky man in his eighties is a joker. I figured he was kidding, but Marty had come to a complete standstill as if pondering his question. I tried not to plow into her or the other women who were on her heels.

  “Not you, obviously, Carl!” Midge Gaylord replied as she veered around Marty and hurried to the reception desk. “You’d better calm yourself down, Marty, or there’ll be a body in the Clubhouse. I’m calling Deputy Dervish. It’s too late for 911. She’s already dead.”

  “No way!” Exclaimed Rosemary Pfeiffer, the receptionist, who had jumped out of her seat. I hadn’t seen the cheerful middle-aged woman move that fast since I became a resident a few months ago. She’s what folks out here on the West Coast call “laid back.” Understanding what “laid back” means is only one of the adjustments I’m trying to make after moving to California from Ohio. I’m not in SoCal—southern California—but north of Santa Barbara on the so-called American Riviera along California’s Central Coast.

  “Don’t tell me it’s the newcomer who moved into the Hemingway Cottage a while ago. The woman who wrote the dictionary.”

  “No, it’s not Miriam Webster. Good grief, Carl, I hope you’re trying to be funny and not losing your marbles. Miriam’s standing right there in the entryway, and she didn’t write the dictionary. That’s a mnemonic she gave us to help us remember her name since it sounds so much like the famous Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary.” Midge glanced at me and shook her head in exasperation. That didn’t stop Carl.

  “I don’t need a pneumatic to remember names. What good would a drill do anyway?” Carl gazed at Midge straight-faced, his mouth hanging open a little as if he might genuinely be confused. Midge wasn’t buying it. She looked skyward as though praying for strength not to wring his neck.

  “Will someone please give Carl a mnemonic to help him remember what a mnemonic is?” Midge was on the phone dialing the local police. She’d tried to call from the bluff area where we’d found the body but had given up. The reception is hit or miss out there amid the sandy hillocks and sparse brush at the edge of a sprawling coastal dune preserve. We’d rushed to the Clubhouse to use the landline instead.

  “I haven’t written anything, Carl. I’m an aspiring writer,” I said as I darted past him trying to catch up with Midge. My dog, Domino, still on her leash, pranced along beside me. Our morning walk had taken a bizarre turn adding to the growing tally of twists in my life over the past year.

  “Then it’s a good thing you’re not dead yet, isn’t it?” Carl tugged at a towel draped around his neck. His ruddy complexion was more flushed than usual. He must have just come from the fitness room.

  “That’s not funny! Miriam’s fur baby is standing right there listening to you. Dogs understand more than you might believe. Domino’s probably already traumatized since she found the dead woman lying out there near Fitzgerald’s Bluff.” Penelope Parker spoke in a chiding tone. “Charly” as she preferred to be called in honor of her favorite writer, Charlotte Brontë, was always at the ready to tame Carl’s wild side.

  Domino was anything but traumatized. She’d growled when she made that gruesome discovery, and then barked wildly which got my attention. I wasn’t the only one who had responded to her barking. Domino’s urgent cries had summoned several members of the Seaview Cottages Walkers Club who were within earshot. Marty, Midge, Charly, and her dog, Emily, had rushed to join us.

  “Don’t worry, Charly, Domino’s fine. She’s still a little wound up given all the excitement.” Not as hyper as Emily. Named for another Brontë sister Charly admires, Emily was doing a little tap dance trying to get Domino to play. Domino crouched and kinked her tail, ready to respond to the invitation when Charly scooped up Emily into her arms.

  “I would take her back to our cottage, but I don’t want to miss anything.” By cottage, Charly meant the Brontë Cottage, another in the Writers’ Circle of cottages named after famous authors.

  Our Writers’ Circle is only one of the residential “Circles” that comprise the Seaview Cottages community. Other Circles honor artists, crafts persons, and luminaries of the theater and cinema. They all pay homage to the “Dunites” who once lived nearby in what is now the Guadalupe-Nipomo Dunes Complex.

  The utopian artists’ community of Moy Mell, Gaelic for pastures of honey, has all but been erased by sand and time. Once the dunes became a preserve area, a founder’s cabin and other remnants were moved to Oceano, so visitors wouldn’t damage the dunes.

  Oceano is another small town founded on big dreams. At one point, it was slated to become the “Atlantic City of the West” by entrepreneurs aiming to turn it into a vacation mecca. I feel wistful about all the longing and ambition that was never realized. It does make the place I’ve landed in midlife intriguing, though, and I’ve just begun to explore its history.

  Charly and I must have been as tightly wound as our hounds. We both startled at the sound of a booming voice. Charly yipped making a noise much like the one her excited little Jack Russel Terrier made moments ago.

  “My lumbago is killing me!” Joe Torrance griped as he stepped into the enormous lobby from the hallway Carl had traipsed down minutes earlier. Joe held a towel wiping what looked like grease from his hands. “It’s always a sure sign there’s trouble ahead when the chain comes off the bike.”

  Shorter than Carl by half a foot, Joe was muscular by comparison. His dark hair and black eyes stood out in contrast to Carl’s sandy-gray hair and pale gray eyes. “The odd couple,” as we referred to them. The physical differences were only one of many between these two pals.

  “That can’t be true,” Carl huffed.

  “Why not? That chain comes off at least once a week now and, for some reason, the rest of my day is usually whacko after that happens.”

  “Your lumbago can’t be killing you. You had it removed last year.” Joe didn’t say a word. Instead, he shook his head and changed the subject.

  “Who’s not dead yet?”

  “Hemingway,” Carl said, pointing to me.

  “You’re losing it, amigo. That’s not Hemingway, it’s Miriam who helped write one of the great American dictionaries. I carried a copy of that book with me when I was learning English about a hundred years ago.”

  Marty, who was now sitting in a comfy armchair waving a brochure back and forth to cool herself, tsk-tsked. Joe’s lips twitched as if suppressing a smile. We had another joker in our midst. A quirky sense of humor is one of the things Carl and Joe have in common.

  “If you read it about a
hundred years ago, how did Miriam help write it? She wasn’t even born then.” I gulped, hoping the matter of my age wouldn’t draw any attention as both men stared at me.

  I adjusted the reading glasses I wear, trying to hide the worry in my eyes. Glasses, not covering my gray hair, and going without makeup are strategies I’ve adopted to appear older. I’ll bet I’m one of the only women around who doesn’t dye her hair or wear makeup to avoid looking younger. That’s part of my strategy to blend in now that I’ve taken up residence in a fifty-five plus community even though I’m not that old yet.

  When my husband, Peter Webster, died unexpectedly last year, he left me in an awful fix. The house we’d lived in for more than twenty-five years was mortgaged to the hilt. Most of our savings were gone, including the money in Pete’s IRA that he’d put into “speculative investments.”

  According to our accountant, his wild schemes had nearly bankrupted us. Neither he nor Pete had bothered to discuss the situation with me. Not even after I lost my job as a bookkeeper when The Pastry Palace shut down.

  Maybe Pete had been too embarrassed to discuss our financial difficulties. I know I am. I haven’t told a soul about how close to the edge I’m living—another of the secrets I’m keeping. Not using makeup or dying my hair has another advantage—it saves me a few bucks.

  Domino tugged at her leash, literally pulling me out of my reverie about the shock and misery of becoming a widow. Emily yelped, and Domino woofed. Joe hadn’t said anything in response to Marty’s question, but he’d given that towel a snap, putting the dogs back into hyper mode. Emily was squirming so much that Charly had to put her down.

  “Will you all please keep it quiet? I’m trying to get Deputy Dervish—” Midge quit speaking mid-sentence and held the phone away from her ear. I could hear the deputy’s voice from where I stood a couple feet away. I couldn’t make out his words, but I could guess what he was saying. Domino picked up on the tone of the conversation and stepped closer to me. She’s a sensitive creature and doesn’t like expressions of anger.