Murder marks the page, p.1
Murder Marks the Page, page 1
Books by Karen Rose Smith
Caprice DeLuca Mysteries
STAGED TO DEATH
DEADLY DÉCOR
GILT BY ASSOCIATION
DRAPE EXPECTATIONS
SILENCE OF THE LAMPS
SHADES OF WRATH
SLAY BELLS RING
CUT TO THE CHAISE
Daisy’s Tea Garden Mysteries
MURDER WITH LEMON TEA CAKES
MURDER WITH CINAMMON SCONES
MURDER WITH CUCUMBER SANDWICHES
MURDER WITH CHERRY TARTS
MURDER WITH CLOTTED CREAM
MURDER WITH OOLONG TEA
MURDER WITH ORANGE PEKOE TEA
MURDER WITH DARJEELING TEA
MURDER WITH EARL GREY TEA
MURDER WITH CHOCOLATE TEA
Tomes & Tea Mysteries
MURDER MARKS THE PAGE
Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.
Murder Marks the Page
Karen Rose Smith
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
Table of Contents
Also by
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2023 by Karen Rose Smith
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
KENSINGTON and the KENSINGTON COZIES teapot logo Reg. US Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-1-4967-4703-7
First Kensington Hardcover Edition: April 2024
Library of Congress Card Catalog Number: 2023949926
ISBN: 978-1-4967-4705-1 (ebook)
To my husband and son, who have taken this thirty-five-year writing adventure with me. I love you both to the moon and back.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to Officer Greg Berry, my professional law enforcement consultant, who always provides the answers to my questions and as much information as I need.
Chapter One
Jazzi Swanson’s fishtail braid slid across her back as she managed to steady a mini-paddleboard hanging on wall pegs. She was giving it a last pat into place above bookshelf cubicles when the bell sounded and the front door of Tomes & Tea opened and closed. From her perch, Jazzi glanced over her shoulder.
Theo Carstead was striding toward her. She suspected he was going to ask her a question she didn’t want to answer.
At age twenty-five, Jazzi could count at least ten reasons why she didn’t date . . . or want to. The last time Theo had come into the store, he’d started to approach her but she’d been called away by a customer. Maybe he’d simply wanted to buy a particular book. But if she listened to her woman’s intuition, as well as interpreted correctly that twinkle in his eyes . . .
She brushed her Cleopatra bangs aside as he closed the space between them.
Theo blasted her with his thousand-watt smile and tilted his head in a way that made his cleft chin even cockier. “Need help up there?”
She stayed put even though pressing her shins against the ladder rung was uncomfortable. “Nope. I got it.”
“How about help getting down?” Theo’s brown hair hung long to his neck. It was thick enough that when he brushed his hair over his brow to the side, it stayed put. He was amazingly attractive.
She studied his outstretched hand and stepped down under her own power. Then she faced him. “Can I help you with finding something to read . . . or maybe iced or hot tea?”
“It’s May, Jazzi. Who drinks hot tea in May?”
Everyone who came into the store knew her name. “Tea lovers,” she answered lightly. She closed the ladder and carefully propped it against the sea-glass-colored cubicles that were lit by neon green and blue LED lights.
“No book. No tea.” His gaze ran over her royal-blue tank top and white wraparound skort with blue polka dots. “I just stopped in to see if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight. Any restaurant you’d like.”
Wow, that was an offer. In the lake resort of Belltower Landing there were scads of restaurants to choose from, some with entrées that would cost more than her monthly food budget. Although she could possibly be attracted to Theo, she suspected he was only in town for the summer. She wasn’t in the market for a summer romance . . . or any romance.
Dawn Fernsby, Jazzi’s partner in Tomes & Tea, had finished with a customer at the tea bar and crossed to Theo. “Jazzi and I have a business dinner after closing. She’s not free tonight.”
Theo narrowed his gaze at the two of them. “A business dinner? I suppose partners need to do that now and then. Or you could postpone your dinner and I could expand your horizons.”
Belltower Landing might attract thousands of tourists during its summer season, but it was still basically a small town. Residents with less than six degrees of separation knew everyone who lived here year round. Most kept track of the tourists and summer renters. Theo Carstead had brought his deejay business to the resort town for the summer and had already played parties for a few of Belltower Landing’s wealthiest and well-known residents.
Keeping her tone calm and gentle, she met his gaze. “As Dawn said, I’m busy tonight.” She hoped she was telling the truth. They hadn’t planned a dinner. After all, they lived together in an apartment upstairs. But maybe something had come up that Jazzi wasn’t aware of.
He gave them both prolonged stares. “I’ll try again another time.”
Theo was wearing olive cargo shorts and a dark brown tee. As he left, Dawn tore her gaze from his lean but fit back. “It’s a shame he knows he’s a babe magnet,” she mused.
Jazzi took hold of the ladder, ready to return it to the storeroom. “I was ready to tell Theo no.”
Dawn’s short brown hair was streaked with blond. Bangs emanated from a high side part and she had a habit of brushing them away from her green eyes. “I just gave you a little more breathing room. Maybe you’ll want to reconsider,” she said as she helped Jazzi with the ladder.
They passed Erica Garcia at a stand-alone bookshelf. Erica was in her late forties and loved books as much as Jazzi and Dawn. She’d been clerking for them since Tomes & Tea opened three years ago. She’d taken Jazzi and Dawn under her motherly wing and often offered them advice.
Jazzi and Dawn carried the ladder between round tables with metal and enamel chairs in various colors. They kept the shop bright and cheery during all four seasons in New York State.
As they passed through the doorway into the storeroom, Dawn assured Jazzi, “I wasn’t simply giving you an out for tonight. We do have to have a serious discussion and it is business. How about dinner at The Wild Kangaroo after closing?”
The Wild Kangaroo was an upscale pub that was one of Jazzi’s favorite places to eat. It was run by Oliver Patel, a thirty-something with a killer Australian accent. If Dawn’s discussion about Tomes & Tea was a serious one, Jazzi would prefer to have the discussion at The Wild Kangaroo.
* * *
As Jazzi and Dawn walked past the town green with its three-story-high bell tower, its large clock facing the shops along Lakeview Boulevard, Jazzi felt the breeze coming off the surface of Lake Harding. The town and surrounding community of Belltower Landing spread around a lake with a perimeter of about thirty miles. Verdant grass had just been mowed at the edge of the green along the shore, its scent growing stronger in the damp dusk settling around the town. The police station, firehouse, and steepled stone church spread in the opposite direction from where Jazzi and Dawn walked. They were heading toward the marina and dock but wouldn’t be going that far. Jazzi often wondered why the philanthropist Phineas J. Harding, who built the community for the purpose of recreation and a harmonious life, didn’t name the resort after himself rather than the bell tower.
The bell in the tower chimed eight times as she and Dawn passed art galleries, a wine store, a leather shop, and a variety of other businesses to approach the strikingly red door of The Wild Kangaroo. After Jazzi pulled open the door, the usual sounds from the pub spilled out—chatter, laughter, the clink of glasses and serving trays.
Oliver Patel himself welcomed them into the pub with a smile. Even thou
He motioned to a table in the corner that had just been vacated. “It will be cleaned off in two shakes of a kangaroo’s tail,” he said in that accent Jazzi loved.
The Wild Kangaroo was distinctive, just like its owner. The brick serving-bar fronted dark wooden shelves that held all the bottles and bar implements. Silver barstools stood in front of the bar. The silver theme held with the metal chairs at the solid black round tables while gray and black triangle squares decorated the border around the shelves. A large wooden kangaroo hung in the center behind the bar with smaller versions on each wall. The smaller versions were surrounded with framed photos of Australia. The large blackboard listed the day’s specials, which today included barbecued snags, curry pie, crab sticks, fish and chips, and pavlova. The round high table in the corner would be adequate for any discussion Jazzi and Dawn had to have, also offering a bit of privacy.
They settled in at the table and a waitress dressed in black shorts and a black top with a kangaroo logo printed on the pocket came to take their drink orders. Dawn ordered a draft beer while Jazzi ordered lemonade. After the table had been cleaned and the waitress brought their drinks, Jazzi took a swallow of her lemonade and studied Dawn.
Jazzi’s journey to becoming an adult had taken a few twists and turns that she hadn’t expected. But Dawn Fernsby had been a gift. They’d met in college when they’d both attended a group for adoptees. They’d later become roommates, bonding over the emotional road adoptees traveled. Although Jazzi had searched for her birth mother when she was in high school and found her, Dawn hadn’t taken that step. She was still considering it.
Instead of jumping into a discussion about the bookstore, Dawn said, “Tell me again why you don’t want to date Theo. He throws the best parties and has all kinds of fun connections, including people in the entertainment industry. Besides that, he’s good to look at, and he’s intelligent enough to have a decent conversation with.”
Jazzi laughed. “Are those my three requirements?”
“I don’t know what your requirements are.”
“I know Theo might be a fun date,” Jazzi admitted. “If you want to date him, you’re welcome.”
Dawn shook her head. “He wants to date you. That’s evident whenever he comes into Tomes and eyes you. Sometime you’re going to have to get over that breakup you had in college.”
Jazzi thought about it. As a sophomore in college, she had transferred to her boyfriend’s college at the University of Delaware, fully intending to continue her Bachelor of Science degree in human services. But after she transferred, she and Mark broke up instead of growing closer. That had been a huge disappointment. He’d been her first serious relationship.
“I’m over it. But I changed my life for Mark. I was happy where I was, but I thought we were serious. He kept bugging me to transfer to be with him. So I did, and you saw what happened. I won’t ever change my life for a man again.”
“I think finding out about your birth dad has something to do with you keeping up your guard.”
Jazzi had decided to search for her birth father around the time she’d met Dawn. Dawn had supported her in her search but . . . Jazzi had discovered her birth dad had died during his service in Afghanistan. That knowledge along with her breakup had thrown her into a tailspin. “Probably so.”
All of it had just made her feel . . . protective of her heart. Although she loved her family in Willow Creek, Pennsylvania, she’d often come home with Dawn to this town that was quirky and different. She’d learned how to paddleboard, kayak, and enjoy afternoons on Dawn’s parents’ pontoon boat. Since Dawn’s parents owned an outfitters shop, Jazzi and Dawn had both worked in the shop during their sophomore and junior summers. Her senior year, Jazzi had decided she didn’t want to pursue a master’s and a PhD degree in human services. She’d wanted to be done with school.
Around that time, her grandparents had sold their decades-established nursery business in Willow Creek and decided to bestow on her and her sister a monetary gift to help them establish their lives. Jazzi had decided to open the bookstore in Belltower Landing and convinced Dawn to opt into the project with her savings too. Jazzi and Dawn were serious about adult-ing and wanted to establish their own lives around the bookstore and tea bar.
“What you’re saying is that I don’t want to attach to a man because he’ll just leave.” In her more self-reflective moments, Jazzi believed that was probably true.
“Something like that. And you’re aware enough of it to know it, so you might have to fight against it.” Dawn was staring at Jazzi through her brushed-over bangs, and Jazzi had to smile.
“Maybe I do. So tell me what’s going on.”
“Let’s wait until dinner comes,” Dawn said with a sigh, as if she wasn’t in a hurry to talk about whatever it was.
The waitress came over and took their orders. Soon, over barbecued snags served with mashed potatoes and grilled onions, they were ready to talk.
After a last forkful, Dawn wiped her fingers on her napkin and leaned back in her chair. “I don’t want you to freak out.”
“I don’t ever freak out.”
Dawn leaned forward again, moved her fork to the side then back into place. Evidently whatever she wanted to say was difficult.
Jazzi braced herself as best she could, not knowing what was coming.
“My parents want me to sell my share of Tomes and Tea.”
Jazzi felt her mouth drop open, and she swallowed hard, trying not to let her mind spin into disaster thoughts.
“My dad examined our profit and loss statements,” Dawn went on.
“Those statements showed profits before the tourist season even started,” Jazzi pointed out.
“Maybe so. This summer could equal last summer, or be better or worse. Of course, we don’t know. But the bookstore is barely paying a living wage for you and me. We’re hardly even pulling in enough to pay Erica and temporary help.”
Jazzi and Dawn lived in the apartment above the bookstore and tea bar for a reason. Neither of them was extravagant, and they budgeted monthly for food and utilities.
“Maybe I should talk to your parents,” Jazzi offered.
“That won’t do any good.”
“They blame me for you wanting to search for your birth parents, don’t they?” Aware of that fact, Jazzi didn’t know how to breach the distance between her and Dawn’s parents.
“No, they don’t blame you. They know I was attending the adoptees group in college before I even met you. But they do think if I find my birth parents, I’ll pull away from them.”
“I still think they believe I’m leading you down the wrong path. I would never convince you to do something you don’t want to do.”
“I know that. Jazzi, I’ll be honest. I don’t want to find someone to buy me out. That means we need to do anything we can to bring in more income, especially over the quieter months.”
Jazzi’s supper felt like a rock in her stomach. “I know one thing that would help. We need to up our social media presence. We need the attention of a few bookstore influencers that would not only help us, but draw people to Belltower Landing. We need ideas on how to do that.”
“Yes, we do, and I know how to get them,” Dawn offered.
“You know someone with connections?”
Shaking her head, Dawn answered, “No. But I know a group of people we can rely on—our book club. We’re meeting tomorrow night and I think we should bring this up. Our core members want to keep Tomes and Tea thriving. What do you think?”
“I think it’s a start.”
* * *
Jazzi’s personal style was eclectic. Tonight she’d braided her Rapunzel-length black hair into a part fishtail braid and part Dutch braid hanging to one side. When she’d turned twenty-one, she’d gotten a butterfly tattoo behind her right ear. Rebellion? A chance to assert her adult power? Something fanciful that for the most part was her own secret adornment? She had attached lapis pierced earrings to accompany her overall denim shorts and white crop top. She wore sandals all summer for practicality’s sake, whether she was working in the bookshop or slipping them off for a water sport.
