Buttercream Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 7 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) by Carol Durand, Summer Prescott Read Free Book Online Page A

the caller’s number was blocked. Thinking that it might be Chas calling from a phone at the police station, she answered.
    “Hello?” she breathed, her heart tripping.
    At first there was silence, but then, just as Missy was on the verge of saying hello again, there was a chuckle, that turned into a giggle that rapidly evolved into an eerie, maniacal laughter.
    “Who is this?” Missy whispered, terrified. “Who is this?” she demanded, her fear turning to anger. “Who. Is. This??” she shouted, furious. The line went dead. There had been something familiar sounding about that horrible laugh, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Toffee had leapt to her feet when Missy shouted, and was staring at her uneasily. The phone rang again, with the same Unknown showing up on her screen. She picked up the call, ready for battle. “You listen to me you sick, sad, excuse for a human being. I don’t know who you are, but I’m going to find you. You can bet on that!” she threatened, then hung up. The phone rang again almost immediately and she screamed with frustration, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. She waited for it to stop, then immediately placed a call to Chas. The detective was walking in the front door less than ten minutes later, and Missy melted into his embrace, exhausted and terrified.
    “You poor thing,” he murmured against her hair as she sobbed into the hard wall of his chest, wetting his shirt. “I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling after everything that’s been happening.” Taking matters literally into his own hands, he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the couch, where he sat, with her on his lap, just letting her cry. He rubbed her back and stroked her hair as she emitted pitiful mewling sounds muffled by his shirt. When her sobs seemed to subside, he delicately placed her on the couch, tucked a blanket around her, and promised that he’d be right back.
    Returning moments later, Chas handed Missy a cut-crystal glass with a generous measure of scotch in it, instructing her to drink. The smoky burn of the expensive beverage helped calm her, and she took another sip, finally managing to regain a sense of stability.
    “I’m sorry that I’m such a mess,” she sniffled miserably, gazing up at Chas with pain evident in her eyes.
    “Don’t be silly,” he said, brushing an unruly blonde curl away from her eyes. “You’ve been through a lot recently, and have held up like a trooper the entire time. Everyone has their moments, Missy. Even if you are a superwoman, it’s okay to need a hug every once in a while,” he teased gently, proud of her.
    She smiled up at him shyly and took another drink of her scotch. Taking a deep breath, she plunged right in. “So…what happened at my house? Why did you need to call a team in to investigate?” she asked, her voice weak but clear.
    Chas sat down next to her with his own glass of potent amber liquid, swirling it thoughtfully. “Actually, we’re still not certain what happened,” he replied, making a face.
    “What are the possibilities?”
    “Well, it’s evident that someone broke in, but whoever it was didn’t leave fingerprints. We’re assuming at the moment that he or she was wearing gloves. I know your place pretty well, and it didn’t look to me like anything had been taken, but there were some strange items left behind by the intruder.”
    “Items left behind? Why on earth would someone who broke in leave something behind?” Missy was confused.
    “Usually because they’re trying to frighten the occupant. It’s a sick, twisted game,” he ground out, his jaw muscles flexing.
    Beckett’s reaction alarmed her, he was typically cool, calm and analytical. “What was left behind Chas?” she asked, dreading the answer.
    “There was a woman’s scarf. I’m assuming it’s not yours because I’ve never seen you wear anything like it.”
    “What did it look like?”
    “It was made of a gauzy material. The