Midnight sun murder, p.1
Midnight Sun Murder, page 1
MIDNIGHT SUN MURDER
GOLD RUSH ALASKA COZY MYSTERIES
MARTINA DALTON
CONTENTS
Midnight Sun Murder
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
Epilogue
About the Author
Acknowledgments
MIDNIGHT SUN MURDER
Gold Rush Alaska Cozy Mysteries
MARTINA DALTON
Write as Rain Books
Midnight Sun Murder
Copyright © 2023 by Martina Dalton.
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
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.
For information contact :
Martina Dalton
http://www.martinadalton.com
Book and Cover design by Martina Dalton
ISBN: 978-1-7331168-8-6
First Edition: October 2023
Created with Vellum
This book is dedicated to my hometown of
Sitka, Alaska—the magical place where I grew up. It still has a piece of my heart.
CHAPTER 1
Today was the day. A rush of exhilaration surged through me as I signed my name on the dotted line, sealing our fate with Bijou Beach. The new store would be a high-end beachwear and accessory boutique Ivy and I had dreamed up during our late nights brainstorming over glasses of wine. After two years of meticulous planning and elbow grease, our vision had finally come to life in the heart of glamorous Beverly Hills.
“Thank you, Denali.” The leasing agent flashed her brilliant white smile. “A three-year contract is the perfect starting point for a new venture like this. And with your unique line of products, I’m confident you’ll thrive here.”
My face hurt from smiling. “I can’t wait to get everything up and running.” I envisioned the empty space transformed into a sanctuary of breezy elegance and beachy style.
“Wonderful,” she replied, reaching into her Prada tote. “I’m sorry your partner Ivy isn’t able to join us this morning, so please pass along my congratulations.” She revealed a bottle of Armand de Brignac champagne and two flutes. “My compliments.”
I admired the striking gold bottle and read the label, stunned by the kind gesture. “This is too generous. Ivy and I will certainly toast you and all your help in making this dream a reality.”
The woman shook my hand. “Wonderful. So glad I could help.” She turned and walked out the open door into the sunshine.
My heart swelled with excitement, eager to share the news with Ivy and imagining the adventures that awaited us on glitzy Rodeo Drive. Our hard work was finally paying off in the most spectacular way we could imagine.
I grinned, taking in the smooth white floors that resembled sun-kissed sand. The building owner had graciously allowed us to install the unique flooring, knowing it would lend an airy beach vibe. A sleek glass counter stood near the back wall, soon to house the register where we'd ring up sales.
My laptop sat open on the counter, ready for me to dive into ordering displays, racks, and mannequins to bring our vision to life. My fingers twitched, eager to get started.
“Denali!” Ivy strode through the propped-open front door, a vibrant bouquet of dahlias in hand. Her face lit up with excitement, accentuating her flawless complexion and dramatic cheekbones. With her glossy platinum hair and dark, smoky eyes, she looked like she'd just stepped off a runway.
“Ivy!” I rushed to embrace her, nearly crushing the flowers between us. “It's official—I just signed the lease!”
She shoved the bouquet at me, beaming. “We did it, girl.”
I stepped back, eyeing her crisp Burberry shirtdress and nude Manolo Blahnik heels. “New outfit for the occasion? Looks incredible.” Suddenly self-conscious, I smoothed my simple off-the-rack skirt and blouse.
Ivy took in my outfit. “You look nice too. Except for those shoes.” She scowled at my store brand flats. “We need to upgrade them, stat.”
I shrugged. “Maybe later.” I’d poured every inheritance penny into this shop after my parents’ tragic passing. This was my whole world now. Ivy had agreed to cover the cost of our first and second shipment of merchandise. The rest, we hoped, would come from the profits of our sales.
Ivy gave me a sly grin and smoothed her dress. “So, you like? A gift from Jean Pierre for our three-month anniversary.”
I raised my brows. “Impressive. He must be doing well.”
“He’s a keeper.” She whisked past me to the counter. “Champagne? How thoughtful!”
“The leasing agent left it for us. She told me to tell you congratulations.”
“What a nice gesture.” Ivy studied the bottle with a sparkle in her eyes. “Not a cheap champagne either.” She busied herself by popping the cork, then poured a generous amount of bubbly into each glass. “Cheers to Bijou Beach!”
“Cheers!” I clinked her glass and took a sip. “Delicious.”
Just as we declared a second toast to our upcoming good fortune, Jean Pierre sauntered through the open front door. “Looks like I’m just in time.” He flashed a grin. Ivy greeted him flirtatiously, the two clearly smitten. I could see why she was attracted to him. With his dark hair, deep brown eyes, and sexy French accent, he attracted women effortlessly. Though something about him unsettled me, I was happy Ivy had found love. I just hoped this one would treat her well.
Ivy flipped her hair over her shoulder and handed him the glass. “Looks like we only have two glasses. We’ll have to share.”
“Not scared of my germs?” He winked, then took the champagne flute and chugged the entire glass.
Jean Pierre was handsome, but a bit odd, in my humble opinion.
Ivy blinked, her smile frozen in place. “The alcohol will kill the germs.” She took the glass from him and poured herself a few sips more.
The sound of a rumbling engine outside caught my attention. A UPS man hopped out of a truck and wheeled in a dolly of boxes—our first shipment for the new store! This was really happening. “Denali Dahlgren?” He glanced at the three of us.
“That’s me.” I stepped forward and signed the electronic device he held out.
“I’ve got one more load to bring in.” He slipped the dolly out from under the stack and went out for the other boxes.
“Must be the parts for the clothing racks. I’ll put them in the storeroom. The painters will be arriving early tomorrow to paint the walls. And the muralist arrives in the afternoon.”
“Fab!” Ivy said. She closed my open laptop. “Your battery was running low.”
“Oh, shoot. I forgot my power cord.” I placed my computer in a large tote and set it against the wall.
Neither Ivy nor Jean Pierre made any attempt to help me carry the boxes. So, I continued loading, huffing and puffing as I carried the boxes, one at a time, to the back room.
Once the freight was stashed, I rubbed my hands together eagerly. “Well, we can set up a couple of these racks in the storage room. Might as well get a head start.”
But Jean Pierre waved his hand dismissively. “Nonsense. That can wait until after the painting is done. Right now, I’m taking mademoiselle out for a special three-month anniversary dinner.” He pulled Ivy close, gazing into her eyes.
“Oh, gosh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get in the way of your anniversary,” I said feeling foolish.
“No worries, babe.” Ivy kissed my cheek. “I know you’re excited to get everything set up.” She grabbed Jean Pierre’s hand and tugged him toward the door. “I’ll be here tomorrow to help. See you bright and early!”
“Have a good time, you two.” I went to the storage room and stared at the stacks of boxes, gears turning. “I’ll just put together one rack for now.”
The next morning, I arrived energized and ready to roll. I stood at the counter with my laptop open and reviewed business projections, tweaking details where necessary.
In two years, we hoped to be profitable. It seemed far off but rent here didn't come cheap. For now, I had downsized to a tiny studio apartment and sold all the furniture I’d stored after my parents’ death and the sale of their home. It was hard to part with their possessions, but I knew they’d want this for me. I wanted to make them proud.
Soon, the painters arrived, bustling about as they painted the walls a beach glass blue. As soon as they left, I texted Ivy. “Hope you and Jean Pierre had a good time on your date. The painters just left. Looks great! When will you be in?”
“After lunch,” she texted back. “Can’t wait to see it.”
I grabbed my purse, locked up the shop, and went to grab an over-priced salad.
After lunch and no word from Ivy, I dragged one of the boxes from the storage room and began assembling a rack. I wasn’t sure when the merch
When Ivy still hadn’t shown up, I texted her again. “The muralist just got here. Are you coming? I know you wanted to supervise.”
I waited for an answer, and when she didn’t respond, I helped the painter by handing her supplies as she worked. The scene was beautiful. Turquoise water, white sand beaches, palm trees, and tanned ladies sunning themselves under colorful umbrellas.
At five o’clock, the artist packed up her paints. “I’ll be back at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“Great. See you then.” I followed behind her and locked up the shop.
In the evening, my phone pinged with a text from Ivy. “So sorry.”
I frowned, wondering what could’ve kept her away all day. A fender bender? Family emergency?
“Jean Pierre surprised me with lunch, which turned into a long dinner, which turned into… well, you know.” Even via text, I could envision her sly grin and coy tone.
“Ah, I see,” I replied, relief washing over me that she was okay. Just preoccupied with her beau. “No worries. You’ll be here tomorrow for the swimwear shipment, right?”
“For sure, around 10.”
I sent a thumbs up emoji, understanding that Ivy was head-over-heels. I couldn’t resent her for being in love. Still, a twinge of sadness lingered that she hadn’t been at the store to share these monumental first steps.
Pushing away my feelings, I settled in to focus on finalizing marketing plans for our grand opening. My stomach fluttered picturing the elegant displays stocked with our chic merchandise, stylish patrons perusing beachwear on the white sandy floors, and Ivy and I toasting to our success.
With a contented sigh, I closed my laptop and snuggled into bed, my mind dancing with dreams of success. Everything was falling into place.
CHAPTER 2
The next morning, a surge of energized purpose propelled me out of bed before sunrise. By six o’clock, I’d scheduled our press release in the Rodeo Drive Shopping Guide, created flashy social media graphics, and even scored a local news interview.
After churning out a month’s worth of social posts and snappy video scripts, I raced to the shop, eager to let the muralist into the store so she could continue painting. She was already standing outside when I arrived.
“Morning!” I chirped, holding the door as she hauled her gear inside.
With the artist busily painting away, I settled in at the counter and opened my laptop, relieved I’d remembered the power cord this time. I checked the time—after ten. Where was Ivy?
My phone pinged with a message from my best friend Mags: “Yay new store!! Is it all set up yet?? Can't wait to see!”
I quickly typed back: “Not yet. Mural going up today and our first shipment coming this afternoon!!”
“Awesome,” Mags replied. “Crazy day at work but def coming by tomorrow.”
I smiled, envisioning Mags’ infectious enthusiasm lighting up our little boutique. My finger hovered over Ivy’s name in my contacts’ list. I was tempted to check in, but I didn't want to seem pushy or needy. She’d sworn she’d be here this morning...I just had to be patient.
To distract myself, I reviewed our punchy social captions and snappy video scripts. In my mind’s eye, I could already envision elegantly displayed racks brimming with fluttery coverups and colorful sarongs, and Chic patrons admiring themselves in the lit mirrors. Ivy and I were finally living our dream.
This was only the beginning, I told myself. Ivy deserved this love and happiness she’d found. And nothing would stop me from manifesting our shared vision into reality. The flutter of excitement in my chest now felt like a flock of birds soaring with optimism.
With still no word from Ivy as noon approached, I hauled the boxes from the back room and began assembling the rest of the clothing racks and sleek mannequins. Losing myself in the task, I didn’t notice the muralist finish up her work until she called out, “All done!”
I glanced up and a delighted squeal escaped my lips. “It’s absolutely incredible! You've outdone yourself.”
The tropical paradise sprawled across the wall in vivid detail, making it feel as if we'd been transported straight onto the warm sands of Bora Bora. Gentle blue waves lapped at the shore, while palm trees swayed under an azure sky. Bronzed women lounged beneath the palms, draped in flowy caftans and wide-brimmed hats.
The painter beamed, snapping photos of her work. “Thank you, I'm so glad you like it. The lighting in here is just perfect.”
As she gathered her supplies, I couldn't take my eyes off the mural, envisioning our racks filled with coordinate bathing suits, gauzy cover-ups, and stylish sunhats. For a moment, I could almost feel the balmy tropical breeze and hear the soothing rush of the painted turquoise waves.
“Just let me know if you ever want to commission another one,” the artist added as she headed out. “I'd love to work with you again.”
“I definitely will!” I called after her.
Energized by the day’s progress, I enthusiastically returned to assembling displays and furnishings. The space was really coming to life now. With or without Ivy here to share this moment, I felt incredibly proud of all I’d accomplished so far.
My stomach growled. I was surprised when I looked at my watch and noticed it was already five o’clock. Where was Ivy? A tiny flare of anger lit inside me. This wasn’t like her. She was usually responsible and dedicated to our plan. What had changed? Was it all due to her relationship with Jean Pierre?
This was ridiculous. I pulled out my phone and texted her. “I thought you were going to be here today. Are you okay?” I watched the screen for the message to go through but frowned when it remained undelivered. Was she out of cell phone range? I stared at the screen for several minutes, hoping for a response. When none came, I sighed, packed up my laptop, and headed home.
The next day, I was busy working on a design for store signage when Mags breezed in, holding two coffees. She handed me one and took a sip of hers. Then turned to stare at the new mural. “Oh my gawd!” Mags squealed as she gazed at the beach mural and the floors that were made to look like white sand. “This is so fun! And did you assemble those racks and display boxes all by yourself?”
I grinned. “Yup. I’m glad you like it. Ivy didn’t show up, so I did it myself.” By this time, I was feeling pretty confident in my ability to get things done—even without help.
Mags turned toward me, giving me a curious glance. “Yeah… what’s up with Ivy? She’s never been flaky like this before.”
“I know. It’s kind of disappointing. I get that she’s in love with this Jean Pierre guy, but the two of us have been preparing for this moment for two years now.”
Mags shrugged. “I think it’s pretty crappy of her to do this to you—new relationship or not.”
“You never liked her, did you?” I studied my friend’s disdainful expression.
“I don’t dislike her.” Mags bit her lip. “I just think she can be a bit fake—you know what I mean?”
I hesitated. “I’m not sure. Maybe you have to get to know her better. On the surface, she likes nice things and spends a lot of time on her appearance, but I think she’s a good person at heart.”
Mags frowned. “She doesn’t seem down to earth like you. But I can see your point. I don’t know her like you do.”
“I’m sure she’ll be in soon, and we can hit the ground running. We’re expecting the first shipment of beachwear and accessories today.” I glanced at my watch. “Actually, it should be here within the hour.”
Mags gave me a side hug, careful not to spill her coffee on her designer outfit. She also worked in the fashion industry and always looked beautifully put together. “Well, I’m excited to see what you ordered. I’ve got to get to work, but let me know if you need any help at the grand opening. It’s next week, right?”
