Mistletoe & Missing Persons Read online

  PRAISE FOR MISTLETOE & MISSING PERSONS:

  “Teresa Michael has done it again with her first holiday cozy mystery novella! What a fantastic trip through the holiday season – Mariposa Café-style, meaning there’s another dead body and a brand new murder to solve. The Mariposa Beach shopkeepers are not only hanging mistletoe, they’re all abuzz about a missing person from forty years ago, and the skeleton now in one of their closets. What fun!”

  --- D. D. Scott, International Bestselling Author

  MISTLETOE AND MISSING PERSONS

  A Mariposa Café Holiday Mystery

  By Teresa Michael

  Copyright © 2019 by Teresa Michael. All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author or publisher.

  First Electronic Edition: November 2019

  eBook design & formatting by D. D. Scott’s LetLoveGlow Author Services

  To My Mom,

  Grace Costello

  Who always made sure we

  Had a family Christmas Eve

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Mid-November, Late afternoon, Mariposa Beach, Florida

  There’s a New Guy in Town

  Chapter 2

  Spread the News

  Chapter 3

  The Discovery

  Chapter 4

  Photographs and Memories

  Chapter 5

  Return to the Scene of the Crime

  Chapter 6

  Time Line

  Chapter 7

  Make the Call

  Chapter 8

  Mid-morning, Thanksgiving Day, Mariposa Beach

  Scones, Pies and a Drive-by

  Chapter 9

  Black Friday

  Chapter 10

  Late Monday Afternoon

  Smudge

  Chapter 11

  A Few Days Later – Early December

  The List Narrows

  Chapter 12

  A Few Days Later

  Follow the Lead

  Chapter 13

  Later that Afternoon

  Accomplices

  Chapter 14

  Saturday Morning

  Shame, Embarrassment, and Guilt

  Chapter 15

  Saturday Evening

  The Boat Parade

  Chapter 16

  Mariposa Beach

  The Launch Party

  Chapter 17

  Happy New Year

  Mariposa Beach Café Recipes

  Grandma Grace’s Chocolate Meringue Pie

  Note From The Author

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  Books by Teresa Michael

  Chapter 1

  Mid-November, Late afternoon, Mariposa Beach, Florida

  There’s a New Guy in Town

  When Libby Marshall stepped out of the bank on Mariposa Boulevard, an open door in the shop across the street caught her eye. She had just dropped off the deposit from the Mariposa Café, which she ran with her business partner, Mimi, when she noticed the door to the boarded up shop was wide open.

  Eleanor’s Gifts was sandwiched between The Village Dress Shoppe and The Surf Shop in a typical, small town city block of three conjoined buildings with storefronts on the first floor and apartments upstairs. The shop had been shuttered since the previous February. The eclectic gift shop had been a staple in Mariposa Beach for about forty years until Eleanor, at almost seventy years old, suffered a stroke standing at the cash register while ringing up purchases for Canadian visitors. Within a few days, Eleanor passed away, and her shop was boarded up. The furniture and shop inventory as well as the contents of her upstairs apartment were as she had left them, as if waiting for her return.

  Libby glanced toward the café on the next block, and then to the beach two blocks beyond. The café was not busy mid-afternoon, and Mimi wouldn’t expect her back too soon on such a beautiful autumn day. Libby was known to occasionally take the scenic route back to the café after making the bank deposit.

  She checked for traffic before jogging across the street. She stopped on the sidewalk and peeked in the open door. The boarded up windows and yellowish glow of the table lamps created eerie shadows that bounced off the china animals, crystal vases, and carnival masks. The interior of the shop was the same as the day Eleanor was wheeled out on the gurney, albeit quite a bit dustier.

  A tall, fair-haired man that Libby estimated to be in his early to mid-thirties was standing in the middle of the cluttered, dusty shop with a well-dressed, shorter Asian man.

  “Hello,” Libby said.

  The men turned. “Hello,” the tall man said with a smile.

  “I’m Libby Marshall from the Mariposa Café down the street. I couldn’t help but notice the open door.”

  “I’m Steve Devereaux,” he said with a soft Southern drawl.

  Steve was wearing dusty cargo shorts, a faded T-shirt and a dark baseball cap.

  “This is Kenji,” he said, pointing to the shorter man who wore a form-fitting, black T-shirt and tan trousers. He fingered a short gold chain necklace as he nodded a greeting.

  “Sorry for intruding, but the door was open, and my curiosity got the best of me.”

  “We’re cleaning out the building in preparation for some renovations,” Steve said.

  “I’m so glad someone bought this building,” Libby said. “The whole block looks depressed with this shop all boarded up.”

  “It was my Aunt Eleanor’s shop,” he said. “I decided to buy out my relatives, renovate the building and open a photography studio and art gallery.”

  “Did you decide on a name for the gallery?” Kenji asked.

  “I’m thinking about calling it The Devereaux Gallery. What do you think?” he asked. “I have a couple of other ideas, but I keep coming back to that one.”

  “I like it,” Libby said. “It’s classy.”

  “It works,” Kenji said. With his left hand on his hip and his right hand outstretched to the room, he asked, “What are you going to do with all this…this stuff?”

  “She had so much inventory,” Libby said. “There’s knick-knacks, candles and figurines in every nook and cranny.” Libby picked up a black porcelain cat and blew off the dust.

  “I have to clear it all out before I can see what I need to do. I have a reseller coming in today to give me a price on taking it all away.”

  Libby scanned the room, taking notice of the armoires, shelves and tabletops covered with pretty little, dusty things and sighed. “Everybody in town loved Eleanor. She used to come to the café every morning before opening the store. We miss her.”

  “She was my favorite aunt,” Steve said. “She loved this little town.”

  Kenji walked around. He wore Italian loafers with no socks. “Steve, do you think you can pull this together before the holidays?” He brushed at the leg of his trousers.

  “The holidays? That’s an aggressive schedule,” Libby said. “Christmas is only six weeks away, and renovations always take longer than you and your contractor expect.”

  “Probate and the associated paperwork took much longer than I anticipated, too,” Steve said. “I was hoping to have a gallery opening of Kenji’s work, and I also want to include some of my stuff.” He held up his hands, as if in defeat. “But there’s so much more to do than I realized. This place is a mess.”

&nbs
p; “Exactly how much renovation are you planning on doing?” Libby asked.

  “New paint and flooring, open up that storage closet,” he said, pointing to a small closet that jutted into the main room. “But from there, it all depends on what the inspectors find,” Steve said. “They’re coming in a few days. I hope this stuff is all gone by then.”

  “Steve,” Kenji said, “a New Year’s Eve launch would be so awesome! My sculptures are almost ready. A New York gallery owner I know is going to be spending the holidays on Siesta Key. I’m sure I could get him to come to the opening. That would be so fabulous for both of us.”

  “That’s amazing,” Libby said.

  Steve chuckled. “He’s been stalking the guy on social media for weeks.”

  Kenji shook his head, rolled his eyes, and said, “I’ll talk to you in a couple of days after the inspectors come by.” With keys in hand, he headed for the open door.

  “I think he was worried that he’d get his pants dirty,” Libby said, after she heard an ignition turn over.

  “He is a bit of a germophobe and quite the clothes horse, but he’s not a bad guy. I’ve known him since college, and his work is quite good,” Steve said. “And I need an artist besides myself for the grand opening.”

  “Do you have a contractor?”

  “I was hoping to do a lot of clean-up work myself, but if the inspector finds anything serious, I’m going to have to hire an electrician and maybe a plumber,” he said and sighed. “Do you happen to know any?”

  “Yes, I’ll give you the names of the contractors we used when we had to do repairs after the café was vandalized last summer.”

  “Vandalized? I thought Mariposa Beach was a sleepy little, old, Southwest Florida town.”

  “It is. Don’t worry. Those guys are long gone.”

  Chapter 2

  Spread the News

  When Libby returned to the café, she found her neighbor, Ida Sullivan, and her white Maltese dog, Zsa Zsa, in their favorite spot in the courtyard near the fountain with the green-tailed mermaids dancing around the bowl. They were sitting just outside the café’s open, sliding doors with an excellent view of the foot traffic along Mariposa Boulevard and the flags flapping on the twin, red-domed spires of the Mariposa Inn across the street. Ida was an active seventy-five, but for stability, she used a walker for support during her daily walks. The small pink pillow in the basket was for Zsa Zsa’s comfort and to cushion an occasional thermos of Ida’s favorite beverage.

  When she saw Libby, Zsa Zsa sat up from her spot on the ground, tail wagging. Libby bent down and scratched the dog behind the ears.

  “Hello, Ida. It’s so good to see you and Zsa Zsa out and about on this beautiful day.”

  “My favorite time of year,” Ida said.

  Mimi appeared carrying a tray with a bowl of chili and a slice of homemade bread. She placed the food on the table in front of Ida, who closed her eyes and inhaled.

  “Smells wonderful,” she said.

  “Libby, I was getting ready to send out the search party for you. It’s almost time for me to pick up the kids from school.” Mimi had two young children in elementary school.

  “Did you notice the activity in Eleanor’s shop?” Libby asked.

  “Cheryl was in here yesterday and told me that her realty office had taken care of the closing and paperwork for Eleanor’s estate,” Mimi said. “She said the new owner is one of Eleanor’s relatives, maybe a nephew or a cousin.” She screwed up her cute little, turned-up nose, then added, “She also said that he’s quite handsome.” Mimi raised her eyebrows and winked.

  Libby rolled her eyes as Mimi’s crystal blue ones had the nerve to twinkle. Mimi was such a romantic, a walking-talking Hallmark movie in the flesh. “His name is Steve Devereaux, and he’s going to open an art gallery and call it The Devereaux Gallery.”

  “Devereaux? That’s Eleanor’s maiden name,” Ida said, tearing off a piece of bread and dipping it in the chili.

  “He’s her nephew,” Libby said.

  “He must be her brother’s kid. Eleanor never had children of her own, and she doted on that boy. Her brother is a jerk. He lives up in Charleston. Most all the family is up there.”

  Ida and Eleanor had been friends for more than forty years, so she should know, Libby figured.

  “I was wondering where his accent came from.”

  “So he’s opening an art gallery?” Mimi asked.

  Ida scoffed. “We already have one art gallery right here.” She gestured towards the opposite corner of the courtyard.

  Libby laughed and said, “Ida, The Devereaux Gallery will be at least one step above Willy’s beachy art shop.”

  “What’s he doing with all her junk?” Ida asked, between bites of chili.

  “Junk? Eleanor had some cute stuff, but it’s going to be hauled away by a reseller.”

  “I should go over to see if she has any Christmas decorations left from last year. He might sell them to me instead. Last year, I bought a cute crystal ornament with mistletoe on the top. Maybe Eleanor had things left over from last year,” Mimi said, pacing back and forth between Libby and Ida, tapping her right index finger against her lips. “I’m going to put up our Christmas decorations right after Thanksgiving.”

  Mimi loved to decorate almost as much as she loved to bake for any holiday. Her turkey-shaped cookies flew out of the shop barely before they had a chance to cool off.

  “When did you say they were coming to haul it away?”

  “Soon. Steve is meeting with the resellers today.”

  “Eleanor will turn over in her grave when the junk man comes to haul away her stuff. I worked in her shop for years. She was always picky about where her stuff was, especially when a customer moved something from one place to another.” Ida laughed. “And I don’t think anyone has seen those walls in forty years.”

  Leaving Ida to her lunch, Libby followed Mimi back inside. Mimi set the tray on the edge of the bar. In a previous life, the café had been a tavern, and parts of the old bar were found in the café’s attic. During the recent renovation, as a tribute to the building’s past and because the wood was beautiful, they decided to use a portion of the bar as high-top seating against one wall and for the internet café on the opposite wall.

  “Well?” Mimi asked.

  “Well, what?”

  “Are you suddenly blind?” Mimi asked, hands on hips. “You are no fun since you started dating the detective.”

  “Mimi, I wasn’t crazy about you fixing me up on blind dates when I was single,” Libby said, following her through the saloon doors that divided the kitchen from the cafe. “There were a few doozies, if you remember correctly.”

  “So, you’re saying that you’re not single?”

  “I’m not looking for anyone else.”

  “You weren’t looking for someone when you met Jack,” Mimi continued. “Who, I might add, is a great guy, so don’t screw it up.” Mimi shook her finger at Libby as if she were a naughty child.

  “Who me?” she asked, pointing to herself. “I can’t disagree. Jack is a great guy, and, in all honestly, Steve is quite handsome, and that southern accent makes him even cuter.”

  “Steve?” Mimi asked. “First name basis already?”

  Chapter 3

  The Discovery

  A few days later, Libby was on her afternoon walk to the bank and beyond, when she heard hammering and banging coming from the open door of Eleanor’s Gifts, though the sign was down and the boards were pulled off the windows and leaning against the front of the building.

  “Hello,” Libby called out from the door.

  The room, which had previously been packed from wall to wall with tables, bureaus and miscellaneous inventory was now bare except for a makeshift work table set up on saw horses. A metal tool box was open with hammers, screw drivers and various tools scattered about on the table. There were a couple of wooden dining chairs at the table. Libby remembered seeing them in Eleanor’s apartment and wondered
if the frilly cushions that used to occupy the chairs had gone the way of the junk man.

  Steve turned and smiled. “Hello there.”

  “It looks bigger without all the stuff in here,” Libby said, surveying the empty, dusty store.

  Steve shrugged. “The last truck load got hauled away yesterday. I’m glad Mimi was able to find a few things she liked.”

  “A few things? She came back with two bags of stuff. It was very nice of you to give those things to her, but I have no idea what she’s going to do with a whole box of mistletoe balls.”

  “I’m sure Aunt Eleanor would rather Mimi have them instead of an anonymous reseller, and I think the box said they were crystal ornaments adorned with mistletoe.”

  Libby began to laugh, pointing at the wall. “I love the way she painted around the furniture.” There was a fuzzy line of soft gray that morphed to a dark blue forming the distinct outline of the furniture Eleanor had painted around.

  “My Aunt Eleanor, the time saver. No one looks behind the furniture, so why move it, just paint around the cabinet. Her philosophy, not mine.”

  “Looks like demo day,” Libby said, gesturing to the half-disassembled storage closet.

  “I decided to start breaking down that closet. Once I get it cleared out, I want to go ahead and open up this room.”

  “I have a few minutes before I need to get back to the café,” Libby said. “I can give you a hand for little while. It looks like you could use one.” She reached for the hammer.

  “That looks like a fresh scar on your hand. Are you sure you’re up to pulling down boards and drywall?” he asked, taking her hand and looking at it.