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  Killer Spring

  A Deadline Cozy Mystery - Book 11

  Sonia Parin

  Other books in A Deadline Cozy Mystery series

  Sunny Side Up

  Snuffed Out

  All Tied Up

  The Last Bite

  Final Cut

  Sleeping With the Fishes

  A Kink in the Road

  The Merry Widow

  Dying Trade

  Yuletide Murder

  Killer Spring

  Collections:

  Eve Lloyd's A Deadline Cozy Mystery - Books 1 to 5

  Eve Lloyd’s A Deadline Cozy Mystery - Books 6 to 10

  Killer Spring Copyright © 2020 Sonia Parin

  No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Other books by Sonia Parin

  Chapter One

  Sunrise, Rock-Maine Island

  Eve brought the car to a stop and reached into the back seat for her basket. “There’s nothing I love more than a bright, sunny day. It puts an extra bounce to my step or should that be spring? Yes, spring. Add to that market day, and I’m in heaven.”

  “Sunny day?” Jill croaked. “What are you talking about? The sun hasn’t come up yet. You lied to me. You said it was after six. It’s five in the morning and still dark.”

  Eve refrained from saying she could have judged for herself… if only she’d been wide awake. “You know what they say about the early bird. Aren’t you glad you came with me? There’s nothing more exciting than catching the first glimpse of a sunrise. We’ll get some coffee first. Perhaps that will cheer you up. Can you take the other basket, please?” When Eve opened the back-passenger door, Jill’s Labradors, Mischief and Mr. Magoo, burst out, their tails wagging, their tongues lolling. “See, they’re happy to be here and look how pretty everything looks. It feels like Christmas in springtime with all the lights twinkling.”

  Jill shielded her eyes and looked up at the floodlights. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve this,” she grumbled. “I’m surrounded by morning people and pets.”

  Eve smiled. “Please don’t make me regret bringing you along. Although, I shouldn’t complain since your 25-year-old sluggishness makes my 30ish years look positively resplendent.”

  Jill yawned and stretched. “This is about me being your alibi. Admit it.”

  Eve lifted her chin. “I don’t need one. Actually, since that sounds like an admission of guilt, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  Shaking her head, Jill laughed. “Lately, whenever you step out of the house or the inn, you peer out the window first and then rush to the car. That strikes me as the odd behavior of someone who is trying to make sure there isn’t someone hiding behind the bushes waiting to ambush them or, to be more precise, a dead body for you to trip over.”

  “Did you have a late night?” Eve asked. “Or did you just get out of bed on the wrong side? You sound grumpy.”

  “You seem to forget, I worked the nightshift at the inn.”

  Laughing, Eve said, “That doesn’t really qualify as work. You get paid for sleeping in the downstairs room just in case there’s an emergency. Did someone wake you up?”

  Jill’s voice hitched and filled with indignation, “Yes, you did, at the crack of dawn.” Shaking her head, she rolled out of the car. “I just don’t understand you. Yesterday, you said you had all the ingredients you needed for today’s baking.”

  “I want to cheer up Mira. She’s been working hard and deserves a treat.”

  “Let me guess, Mira has a deadline and her new book is giving her trouble. She does it on purpose,” Jill murmured.

  “Pardon?”

  “She grumbles out loud so you’ll hear her and do exactly what you’re doing right now. In other words, Mira has you wrapped around her little finger and I still don’t understand why we have to come here so early. Actually, I only really need to know why I’m here.”

  “I’m being practical. In case something ever happens to me, you need to know what to do and where to shop. I have worked hard to establish certain standards at the inn and I wouldn’t want them to slip.” Eve headed toward her favorite stall. “Wallace Greenaway is always first in with the rhubarb and I want to test a few pies before introducing them to the menu. And before you complain and say I could have purchased them at any time during the day, I want to get the pick of the crop and avoid the crowds.”

  “And that’s another reason why I don’t like market day,” Jill complained. “The roads get clogged up with everyone coming in from the mainland. Half the produce here comes from there. Why do they have to invade our island?”

  Eve nodded in agreement. “I knew you’d eventually find your way to understanding me. That’s another reason why we’re here so early. People from the mainland won’t be here for hours.”

  “Oh, yeah? Look around you. I don’t recognize any of these cars.”

  Eve looked around and gaped. “Oh, heavens. Where did they all come from?”

  When Mischief and Mr. Magoo bolted toward the stalls, Eve grabbed hold of Jill’s elbow and tugged her along.

  “Hang on. What about the coffee you promised me?”

  “Come on, forget about the coffee. I don’t want to miss out on the best rhubarb. Just as well. Look, there’s a line for coffee.” Eve sniffed the air. “I think I smell pie. That means Wallace is already here. I want to test the waters and see if he’ll share his recipe with me. Come on. We’ll get the coffee later. I promise.”

  “FYI, I’m keeping track of all your broken promises. And… When did Wallace start making pies?”

  “Only recently. The man is a genius with pastry.”

  Hearing the dogs barking, Eve hurried her step, walking past several stalls already set up for business, she headed straight to the end where Wallace Greenaway always set up his rhubarb stall.

  “I don’t like the look of that,” Jill murmured.

  “What?”

  Jill pointed ahead. “Wallace is on the warpath.”

  Glancing in the direction Jill had pointed, Eve saw Wallace Greenaway.

  The rhubarb grower’s fingers had clenched into a tight fist which he waved in the air. Drawing closer, Eve heard him issue a warning.

  “Keep away.”

  “What do you think that’s about?” Eve asked.

  Sighing, Jill said, “The Wallace Greenaway feud. He’s always arguing with someone over something or other.”

  “Really?” Eve shrugged. “I never noticed. He’s always so polite with me.”

  “That’s because you don’t live next door to him.”

  Despite her remark, Eve knew the man had a foul temper. Tall, reed thin and white-ha
ired, his weather-beaten face a testament to the hours spent outdoors, Wallace Greenaway suffered no fools.

  Eve had noticed that the first time she’d come across his rhubarb stall. A customer ahead of her had handled all the produce and had then walked away without buying anything. Wallace had then proceeded to give her a piece of his mind employing the most colorful language Eve had ever heard.

  “Now that you mention it, he has on occasion struck me as being a bit cranky and gruff.”

  Jill grabbed Eve’s sleeve and tugged it. “I think we should wait.”

  “But what about my rhubarb?”

  “This looks bad. Really bad. The blueberry guy set up his stall next to Wallace.”

  “Oh, blueberries!” Eve tried to surge ahead but Jill stopped her again.

  “Wait.” Jill pulled her back. “You really don’t want to get mixed up with that.”

  “You’re probably right. It’s too early for local blueberries. I’d really like to stick with seasonal produce. However… Now I have blueberries on my mind. It doesn’t really matter if they come from out of state. I shouldn’t be so fussy…”

  “That’s your reasoning?”

  “Actually, if they are arguing then I’ll be doing a public service. I can distract them by buying their produce. I’m sure they’ll put customer service above any petty grievance.”

  Jill convinced her to hold off. “Can we please play it safe and wait a few minutes? I’d prefer to avoid getting caught up in the middle of their feud.”

  Eve relented. “Fine. But I don’t understand what they’d be arguing about.”

  While they waited, Jill filled her in. “It’s an ongoing dispute between Wallace and his neighbor. It used to be Claire Burrows. Now, her nephew, Chad Burrows, has inherited the farm and I guess Wallace has kept the feud going with him.”

  “So, what’s his problem?”

  “Chad Burrows’ farm is overgrown with wild blueberries and Wallace Greenaway has always complained they spread out to his land.”

  Eve’s eyebrows curved in surprise. “Free blueberries. I don’t see a problem with that.”

  “Yes, well… Wallace Greenaway tends to see a problem with everything.”

  Instead of easing up, the argument escalated when Wallace grabbed a handful of blueberries and flung them at Chad. The young man retaliated by lunging for Wallace, his hands stretched out and going straight for the man’s throat.

  “They’re not even your blueberries,” Wallace growled.

  “I knew it,” Eve said. “Out of state blueberries.”

  A young woman intervened and tried to break them apart.

  “That’s Bernice Glover. Chad’s girlfriend,” Jill explained.

  “You seem to be up to date with who’s who,” Eve remarked. “Why don’t I know about any of this?”

  “Because you are trying really hard to stay out of people’s business. Remember? You even wanted to have a T-shirt printed with a logo saying ‘just minding my own business’ but you couldn’t decide on an image.”

  “Oh, yes. I remember I asked you to come up with one.”

  “I did but you rejected it.”

  “A pair of eyes looking askance? That made me look shifty and suspicious. The one thing I’m trying to avoid at all cost.” Eve tipped her head back in thought. “Oh, I know. How about the three monkeys. See no evil, hear no evil and speak no evil.” Eve gasped when she saw Bernice Glover’s efforts to break apart the fight earned her a shove and she landed on her butt.

  Someone had to do something.

  When Eve took a step forward, Jill warned, “Eve, embrace Mizaru.”

  “Who?”

  “The ‘see no evil’ monkey. Remember, you’re staying right out it.”

  “But she fell.” And, instead of helping her up, Wallace Greenaway and Chad Burrows continued to argue, their voices reaching a hoarse crescendo, carrying such heated rage, Eve suspected the two men were about to come to blows; the sort that left bruises and put noses out of joint.

  She rushed toward them with Jill trailing behind her and grumbling something about living to regret it…

  “If not Mizaru or Kikazaru, could you please… please take heed from Iwazaru. Whatever you do, don’t say anything.”

  Chapter Two

  No good deed goes unpunished

  “Banned? Banned. That’s what I get for trying to be helpful.” Eve gave a woeful shake of her head. “It doesn’t pay to keep the peace.”

  “I told you to stay out of it, but did you heed my advice? Oh, no. You just couldn’t help being yourself.”

  Eve slumped back in the passenger seat. “I can’t believe I’m going home empty-handed. No blueberries and no rhubarb. Do you realize what that means?”

  Jill shrugged. “You’ll be making apple pie instead?”

  “I won’t be making any type of pie for quite a while.”

  “You should get your wrist x-rayed,” Jill suggested as she slowed down to make a turn.

  “It’s just a sprain and, no, I won’t be pressing charges. I’m sure neither Chad Barrows nor Wallace Greenaway meant to push me.”

  Jill grimaced. “I’m sorry I didn’t break your fall.”

  Eve glanced at her. “I envy you your reflexes. I’ve never seen anyone jump out of the way so quickly. And, yes, that is the sound of mockery in my voice.”

  Jill lowered her head. “If I could do it over, I promise I would stay put and catch you.”

  Eve snorted. “Instead of jumping back and letting me fall on my butt?”

  “Hey, I apologized. At least your wrist broke your fall. It could have been worse.”

  “There’s no traffic,” Eve said. “You can make the turn.”

  “Sorry. I got caught up thinking about our story.”

  “What story?”

  “We’ll have to make one up. How are you going to explain having a sprained wrist?” Jill gave a firm nod. “We need to get our stories straight. Everyone knows I always have your back and I’d hate for one little exception to put a black mark against my record of solid friendship, loyalty and unwavering support.”

  “I’m not going to lie,” Eve grumbled. “Those two deserve to be publicly shamed. They didn’t even apologize for… accidentally taking a swing at me.” Instead, they’d accused her of being a troublemaker and had then proceeded to ban her for sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. “Do they even have the right to ban me?”

  “They sure do.”

  Eve lifted her chin in defiance. “I’m not taking this lying down.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to,” Jill said in a matter of fact tone. “Don’t be surprised to get a formal letter in the mail. They like to make things official.”

  “They?”

  “The Farmers’ Market Association.”

  Eve gaped at Jill. “You are kidding.”

  “Nope. They’re one of the oldest organizations in the area.”

  “Fine. At least I now know where to lodge my complaint. Actually, where do I lodge it? Do they have an office on the island?”

  “Yes, next door to the newspaper.”

  “That’s the florist.” Eve stared straight ahead, eyes unblinking. “Hang on. Belle’s Blooms. Belle supplies the inn with flowers.”

  Jill nodded. “And she’s a member of the Farmers’ Market Association.”

  “I’ll give her a call,” Eve said. “I’m sure she’ll listen to reason.”

  Jill shook her head. “I doubt it. They’re a tight-knit group.”

  “Okay. I’ll go straight to the top. Who’s the Grand Poobah?”

  “Who?”

  “The head honcho.”

  “Oh.” Jill tapped her finger on the steering wheel. “This year? It’s Wallace Greenaway.”

  “As in… my rhubarb supplier? The man who banned me?”

  “The one and only. In fact, the Greenaway family established the association back in 1854.” Laughing at Eve’s unimpressed look, Jill added, “You really need to take an in
terest in island history.”

  “Fine. I’m sure Chad Barrows will listen to reason.”

  “He’s the Vice-President. I’d hate to say it, but I did sort of warn you not to get involved.”

  Eve grunted. “I should set up an association of my own. See how they like it.”

  Jill tipped her head back and laughed. “The Eve Lloyd Self-righteous Club or the Eve Lloyd Enterprising Busybody Association?”

  “Are you suggesting I might have been in the wrong?”

  “You can’t stand in the way of tradition, Eve. No matter how wrong something might sound. In your place, I’d leave it alone. You don’t want to come across as an outsider. It’s bad enough you weren’t born here.”

  “Huh?”

  Jill gave her a slanted eye look.

  “Fine. I’ll stand down.” Eve slumped against her seat. “Now I’ll never get the recipe for the pie. I’ve been trying to figure out what Wallace puts in his crust to make it so flaky and, so far, I’ve come up with a lot of failures. There’s also the flavor. I’ve tried all sorts of things and my pie shells just don’t taste the same.”

  “Your crusts are flaky and tasty.”

  “His crusts are exceptionally good. I bet he uses lard instead of butter.”

  Jill laughed under her breath.

  “If it’s funny enough to cheer me up, you’ll have to share.”

  “Oh, I just switched from thinking about getting our story straight to an old advertisement about lard. I think it’s from the 1940s or 50s. There’s a couple and their kid and they’re smiling. The ad reads ‘they’re happy because they eat lard.’ I wonder if it really has that effect?”