Flea Market Magic (Southern Relics Cozy Mysteries Book 1) by Falls Bella

Author:Falls, Bella [Falls, Bella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Evermore Press
Published: 2019-10-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

I n the morning, Dani dragged me down to the cafe where she plied me with sticky buns and coffee until I promised I would meet her and the others of our informal coffee coven out for drinks sometime soon.

“I think if it’s at night and we’re imbibing alcohol, then maybe we should call ourselves the cocktail coven instead,” I suggested, trying not to spill the dark roast lifeline of my mornings on the counter when the diner next to me scooted over to make space and accidentally bumped my elbow.

My cousin threw me a towel to mop up any mess and zipped over to another set of new customers to give them breakfast menus. When Aunt Delia had mentioned the cafe was getting busier with all the curiosity about the murder, she hadn’t been exaggerating. People occupied every table, and a dull hum of conversation filled the space. Unwilling to be rushed off my stool at the counter, I took small bites of my third sticky bun to make it last.

“I heard that he was caught trying to steal something valuable, so one of the owners hit him over the head,” some man I didn’t recognize declared.

My ears perked up, and I listened with renewed intensity to hear the latest scuttlebutt.

“Naw, I don’t think anyone from the family was involved in it at all. I heard that young man was trespassing, and he touched something he wasn’t supposed to and it exploded on him,” countered another unknown customer.

If regular speculation in this locale was as inaccurate as the tourists’ tittle-tattle in the cafe, then perhaps I had more time than I thought to try and solve the mystery at hand and keep my uncle safe. Draining my cup of the last drops of coffee, I slid off the stool and placed some money underneath the saucer.

Aunt Delia appeared out of nowhere with two plates of sunny side eggs over her special morning hash for the customers next to me. With experienced quick hands, she scooped up my dollar bills and handed them back to me. “As if I would let you pay.”

“Would you keep it if you boxed up a half-dozen sticky buns for me to take away?” I begged, thrusting my money back at her.

Without a word, she winked at me and pushed through the swinging doors to the kitchen. A new person bumped me out of the way as they took my abandoned seat, and I huddled closer to the wall. A few others gave even more ridiculous accounts as to what had happened to Croy, amusing me by how much people didn’t care about the truth as long as they had something to talk about and act as if they were in the know.

“Do any of you read newspapers or watch the news?” a man bellowed, slapping his hand on the table loud enough that everyone else stopped to listen to him. “There’s only been one person of interest since they reported the body, and that’s one of the Jewell brothers.

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