Bed & Breakfast Bedlam (A Logan Dickerson Cozy Mystery Book 1) by Abby L. Vandiver Read Free Book Online Page A

me, the people around here’ll wonder. I’ll just say you need me to help
over at the Island.”
    I was all too familiar with cover stories.
That was the reason I was in Yasamee in the first place.
    “And what will you say I need you to help
me do?” I asked.
    “Dig, of course. Isn’t that what you
people do?”
    “Are people going to believe that?”
    “Probably not, but they’re not going to
call me a liar. Not to my face. More than likely, they’ll just smile and nod
their heads trying to pacify what they think is a crazy old woman. But no one
will be able to prove I’m lying because no one is allowed to be on the Island.
It’s really perfect.”
    I arched an eyebrow. Maybe they
wouldn’t be so far off thinking she was crazy.
    “I’ll say I’m digging for Indian remains
when really we’ll be digging for clues.”
    I rolled my eyes.
    “What about Oliver?” I decided to ask
instead of voicing my opinion about the cover story she was making up. “He was
supposed to be helping me,” I said.
    “I suspect we’ll have to concoct a story
about that too.” Miss Vivee glanced at me. “If push comes to shove we might
have to let him in our little caper. We’ll see how that goes. But for right
now, mum’s the word.” She patted me on my knee. “Can’t let on to folks what
we’re doing.”
     “Oookay then.” There seemed to be no
wiggling out of this. At least for now. Plus, I was sure, at her age this
little fantasy of hers wouldn’t last long. “I’m in,” I said. “Where should we
start?”
    “Start what, honey?”
    “The murder investigation.”
    “Right.” She tightened her lips and tapped
her chin with her finger. “I think that we should start with the crime scene.”
    “That would be here,” I said and pointed
my head toward the house.
    “She may have died here, but that isn’t
where she was murdered.”
    “And how shall we deduce where exactly the
crime took place.”
    “Only one way to find that out,” she said.
“And that’s by going to talk to Viola Rose at the Jellybean Cafe.”
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Eleven
     
    Saturday
Morning, AGD (After Gemma Died)
    Head lifted up, nose jutted forward, the
aroma of freshly brewed coffee, sugary-sweet cinnamon rolls, and sizzling bacon
lifted me out of my bed. I practically floated down the stairs and followed the
mouth watery whiff of her cooking through the house and into Renmar’s Palace of
Heavenly Delights (everyone else called it a kitchen).
    I know I’d sworn off Renmar’s cooking
after Gemma died in a bowl of her bouillabaisse. And I know that it had only
been one day (I wasn’t even sure if the yellow caution tape had been removed
from the stove), but I just couldn’t resist. I had become addicted to her food
and just like a junkie, I was willing to risk my life for a fix.
    Hi. My name is Logan and I’m a Renmar Food
Junkie . . .
    I wonder does she have any of those fruit cups.
I whispered as my flight ended and my feet gently landed in the middle of the
kitchen.
    “Good morning, Sunshine,” Renmar smiled as
I came in, she was stirring something in a metal bowl. “You hungry?”
    “Yes, I am.” I sat on one of the kitchen
stools. “Good morning, Brie. Oliver.” They were congregated around the island.
    Brie reached over and rubbed my arm. “Good
morning, Honeybun. How are you this morning?”
    “Good,” I said. “Hungry.” I looked at
Renmar.
    “I’ll get you something,” she said. “But I
think Mother wants you to have breakfast with her.”
    “So, Logan.” Oliver spoke to me. He was
puffing on one of his e-cigarettes. “I hear you and Miss Vivee are taking a
drive?”
    Odd looking didn’t exactly describe Oliver
Gibbons. He wasn’t bad looking and evidently had a way about him that made
women go wild. To me, he looked like a man out of his time, of course making
that e-cigarette he always had anachronistic. In the time I imagined he’d fit
in, Oliver would have been