Murder in the Margins: Seabrook Haven Book Club Cozy Mystery by Rosie Sams

Author:Rosie Sams [Sams, Rosie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sweet Book Hub
Published: 2024-10-07T00:00:00+00:00

MYSTERIES AT THE SEASIDE BEAN

The Seaside Bean Café, nestled by the harbor, was a beacon of warmth on the cool, dark evening. Its yellow lights spilled out onto the damp flagstones, casting a welcoming glow that seemed to beckon locals and visitors alike.

Inside, the café hummed with a cozy busyness, the air rich with the scent of roasted coffee beans and the sweet aroma of freshly baked pastries. The walls, adorned with nautical decor—nets, old ship wheels, and paintings of the stormy sea—added to its rustic charm. The tables were covered with red and white checkered tablecloths, each with a lighthouse printed with the menu in the middle.

As Izzy, Watson, Jo, Arthur, and Maggie stepped inside, they were greeted by the sounds of light chatter and the occasional clink of coffee cups. Most of the patrons appeared to be out-of-towners. Their excited talk about walks on the beach filled the air with an infectious energy.

Behind the counter stood the café's old barista, Hank, a wiry man with spectacles sliding perpetually down his nose. His white hair stood out in tufts as if he had just removed a hat, and his apron was adorned with an array of quirky badges from bygone festivals. Hank's eyes twinkled with a mischievous light as he spotted the group.

"Ah, it’s not often we get such a distinguished crowd," Hank said with a grin, his voice as rich and warm as the espresso he expertly poured.

“Can you tell us about Colin Bradford, if he ever visited here, and if so, who he was with?” Izzy asked. At her feet, Watson was trying to gain Hank’s attention. Begging like a mere cat and twirling in front of the man.

Hank looked at Arthur and raised a busy gray eyelid. "Colin? Oh, yes, the chap was here often. Always sat at that table by the window," he nodded toward the spot just as a family began to gather their things. "He came in with Arthur here.” He pointed at Arthur, who looked smug, as this half proved his point.

“If not, he was usually with a mysterious woman—rather butch, she was. I think I heard him call her Lila," he added, his cheeks coloring slightly. “He left me some books each time he came in and was happy to sign autographs if he gave me the nod.”

“The nod?” Maggie asked.

“Yes, I think he liked his privacy, so he would often sit unnoticed. But if he was up to interruptions, he would nod at me, and I would let the customers know we had a world-famous author with us. They would buy books, and he would sign them.”

“That never happened when I was here,” Arthur said.

“No, he never gave me the nod when he was with you… or with the err… woman.”

“Did he leave anything other than books?” Izzy asked.

“No. What do you mean?” Confusion clouded Hank’s eyes.

“A clue to why he was murdered,” Izzy said.

"No, I’m sorry. Let me clean that table for you and bring over some menus," Hank offered, shuffling over to tidy up the space with an efficiency that belied his years.

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