Salted Caramel Crime (A Seaside Ice Cream Shop Mystery, Book 3), Ebook

Salted Caramel Crime is Book Three in the Seaside Ice Cream Shop Mysteries.

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An afternoon with friends is sweeter than ice cream… unless it’s cut short by murder.

 

Anna takes a break from her busy ice cream shop for a long-awaited lunch with friends at Rosie’s inn.

 

But a pleasant afternoon turns deadly when the housekeeper is murdered.

 

Now, Anna and Rosie must do some clean-up of their own if they are to discover the killer and save the inn’s reputation.

 

Meanwhile, nothing seems to be going right in Anna’s search for her sister, especially after Joe Wiggins mysteriously pulls back from the case. That is, until Anna’s search brings her and Jeremy undercover at a beauty school in Maine.

 

If you love small New England seaside towns, endearing characters, page-turner mysteries, and ice cream parlors, you’ll love the Seaside Ice Cream Shop Mysteries.

 

Grab your copy now!

 

 

" I like how descriptive Angela is with her stories. Makes you feel like you are right there. Wish I had an ice cream store like hers in my town. It also keeps you guessing who the murderer is too."
   - Brenda

"As soon as you think you have figured out who the murderer is, another bit of information takes your thinking in a different direction. A fun book to read anytime."
   - Patricia

"The friends of the ice cream shop are back together. Well worth the price!"
   - Dan Q

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Prefer paperbacks? Click here.

Excerpt

Chapter 1

Anna gasped when she caught sight of the view from the sunroom at the Inn at Seagull Cove.

“This must be the most beautiful room in town,” Anna exclaimed to Rosie DeLuca, her friend who was also the inn’s owner.

Rosie smiled proudly. “I think it’s the most beautiful room on the entire North Shore. But then again, I’m biased.”

The sunroom jetted out from the side of the majestic cream-colored structure. Anna was drawn like a magnet toward the wall of windows facing a grove of towering trees with just enough space between them to reveal the cove below in the distance. Even the grey skies that mid-August afternoon couldn’t damper the view.

“I could stand here all day.” Anna glanced back at her friends, who were already seated at the wicker table. Sonja, who owned Cove Coffee and Ruthie, the owner of The Book Cove, were also present for the four women’s long-awaited lunch. They had been trying to get together for weeks and were finally able to find an afternoon that they could all take off from their busy businesses. “Oh, my goodness, where are my manners? It’s wonderful to see you all.” 

Anna handed Rosie two containers of ice cream, which she had brought from her shop, Bella’s Dream. The first, a pint of salted caramel, was for Gabby, one of Rosie’s housekeepers. Gabby had helped Anna clean the shop after the previous evening’s open mic night, so Anna brought it as a thank-you gift. The container of cookies and cream was for dessert.  

“Gabby will be thrilled. Salted caramel is her favorite flavor,” Rosie said, taking the ice cream to the freezer in the kitchen, which was only steps from the sunroom. 

Anna chuckled. “It’s her preferred flavor this month. She changes favorites so often I can barely keep up.”

Rosie scooped generous servings of her homemade tomato basil soup into hand-painted ceramic bowls for her guests, and brought the food to the table in the sunroom, where fresh tossed salad was already waiting for them.

“How do your guests access the sunroom?” Sonja asked. “Wouldn’t they have to pass through your private quarters to get here?”

Rosie pushed back a strand of her short red hair. “That’s exactly why they don’t. It may be selfish of me, but I continued my parents’ tradition of keeping this room as my own special refuge. It is by far the best fringe benefit of running the inn.” 

The inn had been in Rosie’s family for many years. Rosie only recently convinced her parents to retire and allow her to take over.

“Did you live here while you were growing up?” Sonja asked.

“No. This apartment is too small for a family, but after my brother and I graduated college, my parents moved in until I took over.”

The women each served themselves a helping of salad. 

“All of these vegetables are from my garden,” Rosie said proudly. 

“It looks delicious. Tomato soup is one of my favorite comfort foods,” Anna said. 

“I’m so glad we finally managed to do this,” Sonja said. 

“Me, too. We need to make this a regular occurrence,” Ruthie added. 

Since they were all passionate about their businesses, the four women naturally talked shop over lunch. They discussed various tactics they had each tried for gaining new customers. They frequently recommended one another’s businesses to their customers, but this afternoon, they also agreed to promote one another’s business happenings on their various social media sites whenever possible. 

“When any one of us brings business to our area of Main Street, we all benefit,” Ruthie said. Anna’s ice cream shop was only steps from Ruthie’s bookstore and Sonja’s coffee shop.  

They also vented about impatient tourists. “I know they are the lifeblood of my business, but sometimes it gets tiring,” Ruthie said. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for the busy tourist season, but…”

“But August can be exhausting,” Sonja said, finishing her sentence.

“Exactly.”

“How’s your book of poetry coming along?” Anna asked Ruthie. Ruthie had been the first artist to take the stage at Anna’s very first open mic night in July. She shared a poem about a seaside cottage, which was such a hit among attendees that Anna and a few others managed to convince the reluctant poet to self-publish some of her poems. 

“I’ve pulled together some selections that I thought would work nicely together, but that’s as far as I got. The rest will have to wait until business slows down in the fall. I was thinking of including a couple of Christmas poems and publishing it in time for the holidays.”

“Great idea!” Sonja said. “Keep us posted. I’ll sell them in my coffee shop and scatter a few copies around, so people can read while they sip their coffee or tea.”

“I’ll do the same,” Rosie said. “And I’ll keep a copy on the coffee table in my parlor to pique my guests’ interests.”

“I will, too,” Anna said. “We’ll make a famous poet out of you yet.”

Rosie’s eyes twinkled. “Then we’ll be able to say ‘we knew you back when.’ Ladies, we should get our autographed copies sooner rather than later, just in case she forgets all about us.”

“There’s not a chance of that happening,” Ruthie said.

The women cleared the dishes from the table, and Rosie and Anna scooped four generous helpings of cookies and cream. 

“Has running Bella’s Dream helped you to feel closer to your sister?” Rosie asked.

Anna didn’t keep it a secret that she named her ice cream shop in honor of her sister, Bella. For the past four years, Anna had believed that her sister died in a boating accident off the shores of Seagull Cove, but she recently uncovered some information that led her to believe that her sister may not have died that fateful October day, after all. 

Bella and Anna had shared a counseling practice in Boston, and Bella had often fantasized about opening an ice cream shop that would also serve as a community hub, hosting events and serving as a gathering place for residents and tourists. When Anna needed a life change, she opened Bella’s Dream in Seagull Cove, a coastal Massachusetts town that she and Bella had loved and where their family had frequently vacationed.

“It’s brought me a lot of peace, and, yes, I do feel closer to my sister. In fact, I recently discovered some information that has me wondering if Bella truly did die in that accident.”

Anna couldn’t believe she said that out loud. So far, she hadn’t told anyone except Joe Wiggins, who was a former P.I., and Jeremy Russo, a local journalist and friend of Joe’s who agreed to help in any way he could in exchange for being the first to interview Bella if she was truly alive and wanted to tell her story. 

The women appeared stunned by Anna’s news, and she immediately wished she could take back her words. “It’s a long shot, of course, but Joe Wiggins and I discovered a few things that I need to follow through on. Jeremy Russo, a friend of Joe’s, has also been helping. Please don’t tell anyone. I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’ve known Joe my whole life,” Rosie said. “He and my father have been friends since they were kids. If Joe thinks there’s a chance, then you should definitely follow up on it.”

“Wait a minute!” Sonja said. “Is that what you and Jeremy were talking about in my coffee shop last month?” She turned to the other women. “You should have seen the way they were looking at each other.”

Anna blushed. “He was just helping me figure out my next move.”

“And planning his next move,” Sonja said.

A voice came from the kitchen. “Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt.” It was Gabby.

Anna was relieved to see Gabby. She didn’t want to talk about Bella or Jeremy.

“Hi, Gabby,” Rosie said. “What brings you here on your day off?”

Gabby waved at the women. “I just popped in to make plans for later. Five of my friends from high school are in town and are staying at the inn. Avery told me you were all having lunch in here, so I thought I’d come in and say hello.” 

Avery was Rosie’s weekday receptionist.

“I brought you a container of salted caramel ice cream to thank you for your help last night,” Anna said.

“I can’t believe you remembered that it was my favorite,” Gabby said. “Especially since I change favorite flavors by the month. It’s totally unnecessary, but of course I accept.”

“Come in and join us for a few minutes,” Rosie said.

“I wish I could, but I have to get some work done. Since my friends are in town for the next couple of weeks, I don’t expect to have much time to work.” Gabby was starting up an online candle business.

Anna hopped up and got Gabby’s ice cream from Rosie’s freezer. “Maybe this will help keep you energized as you work,” she said, handing the container to Gabby.

Her eyes widened. “It definitely will.”

As Gabby was about to leave, a man who appeared to be in his late thirties with light brown hair that nearly reached his shoulders also appeared in the doorway. He wore a hunter green t-shirt and khaki pants.

“Rosie, I was just about to clock out for the day. Is there anything else you need from me?” the man asked.

“Deacon, come on in for a moment. I’d like to introduce you to my friends. Ladies, this is Deacon, my phenomenal groundskeeper. He’s the man responsible for our breathtaking gardens and landscaping.”

“Nice to meet you, ladies. Excuse me for not shaking your hands. I’m a bit sweaty from working outside.”

“If you’ve done everything on the list I left you this morning, that should do it,” Rosie said. “Thanks, Deacon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As he was leaving, he glanced over at a potted basil plant in the kitchen, whose leaves had been picked over. “I’ll bring a new one up tomorrow.”

“Thank you. I stripped the poor plant bare and used the last of the leaves in our salad this afternoon.”

“I see some babies growing,” he said, taking the plant from the counter. “I’ll put this one in a sunny spot to give them some time to grow.”

Gabby had been looking at the floor and shifting her weight from one side to the other while Rosie and Deacon talked. “I’ve got to go,” she blurted out. She was already on the other side of the kitchen before the women could say goodbye.

Deacon shrugged his shoulders and left right after Gabby, while the women sat down to enjoy their cookies and cream.

“You’re going to have to roll me back to work,” Ruthie said, taking a large spoonful of ice cream.

“I don’t care,” Sonja said. “We work hard. We deserve a treat.”

“With the rest of the container in the freezer tonight, I doubt this will be all the ice cream I eat today,” Rosie said.

Suddenly, the women heard a loud thud through the wall on the far side of the kitchen, followed by a series of smaller similar noises. Shortly after came a succession of quick footsteps, as if someone was either running up or down a flight of stairs.

“That didn’t sound good,” Rosie said. “I think it came from the basement stairs. I’d better go see what happened.”

Rosie took off, and the other three women followed. 

They passed by the reception desk, but Avery wasn’t there.

Rosie looked at the at the empty chair, then she glanced into the parlor just to the left.

“Avery?” she called out tentatively.

Anna pointed to their right at a trembling young woman with dark frizzy hair and fair skin standing next to an opened white door that led to the basement. 

Avery looked at the women, then back down the stairs. “Help!” she finally managed to say. 

Rosie ran to Avery, with Anna, Ruthie, and Sonja right behind her. 

Rosie shrieked when she looked down the stairs.

Gabby lay motionless on the cement floor at the bottom of the staircase, and the container of salted caramel ice cream had splattered all over the walls and stairs.

Anna raced down the stairs as quickly as her legs would carry her, yelling, “Rosie, call an ambulance!” 

But she had a feeling it was too late.