Crab cakes killers and a.., p.1
Crab Cakes, Killers and a Kaftan, page 1
Crab Cakes, Killers and a Kaftan
The Charlotte Denver Cozy Mystery Series
Book 6
Sherri Bryan
Table of Contents
Dedication
Cast of Characters
Prologue
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
Epilogue
A Selection of Recipes from this Book
A Message from Sherri
Acknowledgements
About Sherri Bryan
All Rights Reserved
Dedication
TO MY AMAZING SUPPORT team, who are always with me.
Cast of Characters
AMANDA – NATHAN’S ASSISTANT
Andrew Somerfield – Local news reporter.
Aunt Melanie – Spencer’s aunt.
Ava Whittington - Lifelong resident of St. Eves. Has known Charlotte since she was born.
Barry Jordan - SOCO
Ben Dillon – Detective Sergeant in the St. Eves’ police force. Is renting Charlotte’s old house. Also Jess’s boyfriend.
Betty Tubbs - Lifelong resident of St. Eves. Has known Charlotte since she was born.
Beverly Brady – Friend of Sadie’s and Keith’s wife
Bradley Tennant – Children’s entertainer and Ellie Joseph’s boyfriend.
Cathy Kagan – Yoga fanatic, friend of Sadie’s and Rick’s wife.
Charlotte Costello - Owner of Charlotte’s Plaice café on the marina in St. Eves.
Derek Whittington – Ava’s husband and champion ballroom dancer.
Ellie Joseph – Sadie’s live-in housekeeper-cum proofreader.
Fiona Farrell – Detective Sergeant in the St. Eves’ police force. Often works with Ben.
Garrett Walton - Lifelong resident of St. Eves and skipper of one of St. Eves fishing boat fleet. Also Charlotte’s godfather.
Graham Faraday – Liz and Jeremy’s brother. Odd-job man.
Harriett Lawley - Lifelong resident of St. Eves. Has known Charlotte since she was born.
Harry Jenkins - Lifelong resident of St. Eves.
Jane Robertson – Practicing aromatherapist and Sadie’s closest friend.
Jeremy Faraday – Dance studio choreographer and Liz and Graham’s brother.
Jess Beddington – Charlotte’s closest friend and co-worker at Charlotte’s Plaice. Also Ben Dillon’s girlfriend.
Keith Brady – Friend of Sadie’s and Landlord of The St. Eves’ Arms
Laura Walton - Garrett’s wife and Charlotte’s godmother.
Leo Reeves - Lifelong resident of St. Eves.
Liz Faraday – Derek’s dance partner and sister of Graham and Jeremy.
Malcolm – Sadie Grey’s Siamese cat
Mike Walton - Garrett and Laura’s nephew. Sometimes helps out at Charlotte’s Plaice.
Molly Costello – Charlotte and Nathan’s 26-month old daughter
Nathan Costello – Detective Inspector at the St. Eves’ police department. Also Charlotte’s husband.
Norman Robertson – Ex-secondary school headmaster and President of the local cricket club. Another of Sadie’s friends.
Olivia Floyd-Martin – Chef at ‘The President Hotel’.
Pippin - Charlotte’s West Highland Terrier and Molly’s closest friend.
Rick Kagan – Local Councillor.
Sadie Grey – Popular local author of crime and adult romance novels.
Sharon Donovan – Violet’s daughter and Spencer’s mum.
Spencer Donovan – Violet’s grandson.
Tracey Faraday – Jeremy’s wife.
Uncle Des – Spencer’s uncle.
Violet Leyton – Sadie’s neighbour.
Wendy Myers – Pathologist.
Yvette – Family Liaison Officer.
Prologue
MALCOLM, THE SIAMESE cat, watched from his position on the windowsill as his owner, Sadie Grey, slid off her bar stool and wobbled towards the door of the pub, the back of her tie-dyed kaftan caught up in one leg of her underwear.
“And don’t come back until you’re ready to apologise!”
With almost forty years of experience as a publican, Keith Brady was well-accustomed to dealing with clientele who’d over-indulged on alcohol. He’d dealt with verbally abusive customers, overly-affectionate customers, customers who wanted to fight the world and customers who simply fell asleep at the bar.
Sadie Grey, however, was in a class all of her own. Not only had she insulted every one of the friends who’d gathered to celebrate the success of her latest book, but she’d hurled abuse at other customers, taken a swing at Keith, and thrown up three glasses of Champagne and the half a bottle of sherry she’d quaffed before arriving at the pub, down the front of his shirt
As she reached the door, she turned and made an offensive hand gesture before straightening her kaftan and staggering out onto the pavement.
“Do you think we should see her home?” Jane Robertson’s nasally voice broke the silence.
“No, I don’t!” spluttered Norman—President of the cricket club, ex-head teacher of the local secondary school, and Jane’s husband. “With any luck, the streetlights will cut out and she’ll fall down that bloody great hole in the road outside her house...and good riddance to her!” His shoulders visibly tensed as he crossed his arms across his chest and stared at his pint of bitter, jaw clenched.
“Norm! That’s a terrible thing to say.” Sadie’s most devoted friend, Jane, chewed nervously on her bottom lip as she took a bottle of essential oil out of her handbag and massaged a couple of drops into her temples to keep her stress headache at bay.
She tolerated Sadie’s drinking and forgave her inexcusable behaviour because she knew how traumatised Sadie had been since being discarded like an old newspaper by the only man she’d ever loved. “You know what a difficult time she’s had recently.”
“Recently?! Good grief, woman! When are you going to stop making excuses for her? It was over thirty years ago she got dumped but you will insist on talking about it as though it only happened last week.”
“You know, I bet not a day goes by that he doesn’t thank his lucky stars for escaping her clutches.” Rick Kagan opened a bag of salt and vinegar crisps and dipped one into his shandy. “She really can be the most awful witch sometimes.”
Keith returned, fastening the buttons of a clean shirt. “I can’t help thinking that I’m partly to blame for this fiasco. I should never have given her that second glass of wine, she was so obviously three sheets to the wind already, but everything was going so well I never imagined the party would end like this.”
“Keith Brady, don’t you dare blame yourself!” His indignant wife, Beverley, called from the other side of the bar where she was deep in conversation with Rick’s wife, Cathy. “The only person to blame for Sadie’s appalling behaviour is Sadie. I’m so glad I was in the ladies’ room when she made a spectacle of herself—I don’t think I’d have been responsible for my actions if I hadn’t been.
“I mean, I can understand she’s not happy that none of us are in agreement with her but, really, what on earth did she expect our reaction to be when she told us her next project is going to be a semi-autobiographical exposé that includes all of us?” She shook her head and brought her Champagne flute to her coral-pink lips.
“Exactly,” agreed Cathy. “Keith, Norm, and Rick are respected members of the community now.” She checked her reflection in the mirror behind the bar, admiring the effects of her latest round of Botox. “The last thing we want is a book being published that spills the beans on what we all got up to when we were young. Even if she does use pseudonyms, everyone knows we’ve all been friends since we were kids—they’re bound to work out who the book’s about. For heaven’s sake, Rick’s constituents would never be able to look at him in the same light again.”
Local government councillor, Rick, dunked another crisp into his shandy and stared ahead, lost in his thoughts. “You know, we’d all had a little too much to drink by the time she dropped the bombshell. We all said some things we shouldn’t have but it was just the alcohol talking. If we sat down with Sadie and explained our reservations, rationally, I’m sure she’d understand why we’d rather the book wasn’t published.”
“Or even written, by the sound of it.” Sadie’s long-suffering live-in housekeeper-cum-proof-reader, Ellie Joseph, drained the remainder of her blackcurrant and lemonade. “Right, I’m off to see if she’s okay." She hooked her arms through the straps of her backpack. “Honestly, you lot are worse than a bunch of kids when you all get together.” She blew out a breath that rattled her lips and, shaking her head, set off for home.
“Oh dear, I do hate all this bad feeling. You don’t think we were a little harsh, do you, Norm? On Sadie, I mean?” Jane bent to stroke Malcolm as he mewled and brushed against her legs.
“No, I do not. Not harsh enough, if you ask me.” Norman wagged a fat finger at his wife. “Listen, I didn’t take early retirement to spend it worrying about my reputation being ruined by Sadie Grey. If you think I’m going to sit back and do nothing, you don’t know me very well, woman.” He swilled the last of his pint and wiped his hand across his mouth. “Right, who’s i
n for another round? We need to put our heads together and figure out a game plan because if that book gets published, we’re done for.”
ººººººº
“Sadie, it’s me. Are you okay?”
Ellie slipped her backpack off her shoulders as she called upstairs.
“Sadie! You up there?”
She tutted. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d come home to find Sadie sleeping off the effects of too much alcohol. Ever since the man she loved had made his indifference to her abundantly clear, she’d lost no time in seeking solace at the bottom of a bottle and now, she couldn’t get through the day without a drink. A lot of her friends had drifted away after she’d started drinking—they couldn’t deal with her moods, her temper tantrums and her wretched desire to flounder in self-pity.
Ellie didn’t have to live-in. She would have much preferred to move in with her boyfriend, Bradley. He lived in St. Eves, on the other side of town, but Sadie relied on her so much, it was easier to just stay with her during the week and see Bradley at weekends.
She loved spending time at Bradley’s place. They’d have breakfast in bed and read the papers from cover to cover before going off for a long walk along the coastline. Afternoons were spent browsing around antique or flea markets, followed by an early evening salsa class and a visit to a local restaurant for dinner. Ellie lived for her weekends. They were what kept her going through the rest of the week.
It wasn’t that she hated living-in at Sadie’s but, because she did, she’d seen every side of the temperamental author.
There was no doubt she could be charming and funny—even kind at times—but, mostly, Ellie didn’t like what she saw. She’d had to bite her tongue too many times to prevent herself from flying at her employer in a rage, but she’d kept her cool, primarily, for two reasons. One, the money was good and two, she was the sole beneficiary of Sadie’s considerable fortune.
She knew that Sadie couldn’t do without her. She’d been so disorganised when Ellie had arrived but now, everything worked like a dream. The systems she’d put in place ensured that Sadie never forgot an appointment and always knew what she had to do, and when she had to do it by. And since Ellie had come to work for her she’d never missed a deadline, which she’d been prone to do prior to her arrival, which had improved her relationship with her editor immeasurably.
The only thing Ellie couldn’t do for Sadie was stop her drinking. She’d told her more times than she cared to recall that she’d never find peace of mind at the bottom of a bottle and when she’d suggested Alcoholics Anonymous, Sadie had insisted she didn’t need them because she wasn’t an alcoholic.
The times she’d been on the verge of moving out of Sadie’s and moving in with Bradley had been many. But every time she’d packed a bag, she’d unpacked it just as quickly. It wasn’t just the money—she felt duty-bound to stay and see that Sadie was okay.
As she climbed the stairs, she hoped that she wouldn’t find Sadie in an argumentative mood. The last thing she wanted was a row.
The bedroom door was ajar and Ellie knocked gently before pushing it open. “Sadie...it’s me. Oh, for heaven’s sake! What’s wrong?”
Sitting on the bed with tears streaming down her cheeks, Sadie was a pitiful sight. “I don’t think I can take much more. Nobody wants me. He didn’t want me and now my friends don’t want me...what am I to do?” Her shoulders heaved with silent sobs.
“Listen. Of course your friends want you, you daft thing.” Ellie crouched down and mopped away the tears with the sleeve of her jumper. “They’re just a bit anxious because you’re threatening to write about stuff they’d prefer never saw the light of day. Surely you can understand that?”
Sadie shrugged a shoulder. “I thought they’d be pleased. It’s not every day that a best-selling author offers to put you in her book, you know.”
“But they don’t want to be in it. I’ve no idea what you all got up to when you were young but it’s pretty obvious they don’t want it out there for the world and his wife to read about.”
“I told them I wouldn’t use their real names.” Sadie sniffed. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about.”
“Look, everyone around here knows you’ve all been friends for years. If you put out a book that’s semi-autobiographical, they’re bound to wonder if the characters are based on real people. And who do you think they’ll look to? You really should reconsider, Sadie. It’d be for the best, I’m sure.”
Sadie shook her head. “Why should I? After the way they all turned on me, they deserve it—I shall never forgive them.” She shook her hair from her shoulders. “You and Malcolm are the only ones who care about me.” She looked around the room. “Where is Malcolm?”
“He was in the pub when I left. Don’t worry about him, he’ll come home when he’s ready—he loves it there, what with everyone fussing over him. He’ll be in no rush to get back.” Ellie stood up and groaned as her knees creaked. “Right, I’m going to get something to eat—you want anything?”
“No, I’ve completely lost my appetite. I think I’ll just have a shower and an early night.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll put some food down for Malcolm in case he comes back tonight and I’ll leave your bedroom door ajar so he can get in. See you in the morning.”
ººººººº
Sadie stood at her bedroom window, turning her face to the breeze that fluttered her kaftan.
She’d thought long and hard about the events of the evening. And her inability to forgive and forget had forced her hand.
I’ll show them. I’m going to write this book so that no one who reads it is in any doubt about who the characters are based on. Call themselves friends? I’ll teach them to gang up on me.
She closed her eyes but quickly opened them again to stop the room from spinning.
Why do I drink so much?
Clutching at the Georgian chest of drawers, the comfortable couches and the antique bureau at which she created her novels, she made her way to the dressing table and sat on the velvet upholstered stool.
She surveyed her reflection as she brushed her hair, so naturally glossy it gleamed even in the dim glow cast by the night light. Her cheeks were pink against her pale skin. Too pink, in her opinion. She always looked like she’d just run a marathon. And, of course, the drink didn’t help.
As they often did, her thoughts drifted to the man she loved. Still loved, after all these years. She’d accepted that there was no chance of them ever being together now. And she’d kept tight-lipped about his identity.
A sudden movement startled her but she relaxed when she felt the silky coat of her Siamese cat rub against her ankles. “Oh, Malcolm. I’m so glad you’ve come back—I’m sorry I came home without you.”
The cat gave her a haughty stare before padding off and slinking his sleek form through the narrow opening of the door.
Sadie sighed and promised herself for the umpteenth time that she’d get her act together. If she wasn’t careful, she’d turn Malcolm against her, too—a scenario that simply didn’t bear thinking about.
Her steps were heavy as she walked towards the turned down bed and lay on the cool sheet.
As she battled to keep her eyes from closing, it took only five minutes for her to lose the fight and succumb to her weariness, the breeze swaying the curtain back and forth as she drifted off to sleep.
If she’d only waited at the window for a minute longer, she might have seen the lone figure watching her from the shadow of the large elm tree at the end of the street...
Chapter 1
THE FOUR FRIENDS WERE gathered in the bedroom; three lounging on the bed around a box of chocolates, and one applying the finishing touches to her makeup at the dressing table.
“Oh no! There’s been a murder in St. Matlock.”
Betty Tubbs read aloud from the local newspaper about a murder investigation in the neighbouring town.
“The body of a woman was discovered in the living room of her St. Matlock home early on Thursday morning. Although police have not identified the woman, nor have they released any further details, unconfirmed rumours suggest that she may be a victim of a killer the community has dubbed the St. Matlock Murderer, and who has already attacked another woman, and remains at large.
