Cappuccino Criminal (A Killer Coffee Mystery Book 12) by Tonya Kappes

Author:Tonya Kappes [Kappes, Tonya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tonya Kappes Books
Published: 2023-05-24T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

As the guests filled in the room to find their name at the place they’d be sitting, the captain gave little bits and pieces of information about Honey Springs as we passed various sites. He was talking about the island and how the bee farm was a tourist destination, pointing out how some of the decorations for the night’s cruise were donations from the Noros.

I glanced around the dining area to see what Kayla had put together and noticed how the gorgeously adorned chandeliers dangling over the room cast a warm golden glow over the white linen-covered tables.

It was the centerpieces of each table that had Kayla’s signature look. Stunning bouquets of flowers, reminiscent of the unique flora that contributed to the island's famous honey.

The chatter of guests filled the room, but the underlying tension was palpable.

I gripped the handle of the chair in front of the place setting with my name inscribed on the tented nameplate that sat on the fine piece of bone china. At a closer glance, I wondered if it was the famous Featherstone bone china I was going to see if I could get a few pieces of at the estate sale.

“If you’re wondering”—Mama came up behind me—“because I saw your mind going a million miles a minute when you looked at the plate, it is the family china. Raffery thought it would be a nice touch to have the farewell cruise include the china before they sold it at the estate sale.”

I snorted and tried not to look across the table when Kirk appeared in my peripheral vision. Instead, I focused on the waitstaff, dressed in crisp white shirts and black bow ties, navigating the room with practiced grace and offering flutes of champagne and various wines to go with the dinner buffet. The scent of the gourmet dishes being prepared in the galley wafted through the air, making my stomach rumble in anticipation.

“Gotta go to my seat.” Mama patted my back before she waved at someone else she knew and darted off to find her spot.

“Roxy.” Kirk gave me a hard nod from across the table.

“Roxanne,” I corrected him. “Roxy is reserved for my friends.”

He smiled, picked up his glass of water, and tilted it toward me, then took a drink.

“Sorry. It’s just I want to know why you were on the dinghy the night Leandar was murdered,” I whispered hastily so no one else could hear me and tapped on my phone to bring up the photo I’d taken of the fingerprints of blood on the dinghy boat. “And you left this bloody handprint.”

In the back of my head, I also kept the jug-fishing story Caldwell had told me about Raffery and how he’d used red paint to distinguish his jugs from the others floating on top of the lake.

“What are you talking about?” Kirk looked offended, his fork in one hand and his knife in the other. He used his knife to part the flower arrangement so he could glare at me.

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