Valentine's Poison : A BRAND NEW addictive cozy mystery (Jim and Ginger Cozy Mysteries Book 5) by Arthur Pearce

Author:Arthur Pearce [Pearce, Arthur]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2025-01-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Early morning light filtered through the blinds as a cardinal watched from his perch on the maple branch, judging my sleeping habits with his beady stare. My phone’s alarm chimed its usual wake-up call – mercifully free of Emma’s cosmic additions for once, though I noticed three missed notifications about optimal planetary alignments for morning routines.

I reached over to silence it, already bracing for Ginger’s customary sarcastic commentary about my morning coordination or the state of my hair, which probably resembled a bird’s nest after a particularly enthusiastic hurricane.

But no witty remarks came. No observations about my bedhead or fumbling attempts to locate the snooze button. Not even a comment about my choice of pajamas, which Martha had given me as a joke – they featured tiny books arranged in proper Dewey Decimal order.

Ginger lay curled on his windowsill perch, still fast asleep. His orange fur caught the morning light, rising and falling with each steady breath. One paw twitched occasionally, suggesting dreams of chasing suspicious characters or critiquing inferior salmon. It was the first time in our months together that I’d woken before him. Usually he was already alert and ready with pointed observations before my eyes even opened.

The medication from yesterday had clearly worn off, leaving him in need of proper rest. Even the sharp knock at my front door failed to rouse him from his slumber – a sound that normally had him analyzing visitor patterns and predicting their intentions before they finished knocking.

I pulled on my robe, mentally calculating the odds of it matching given that I’d dressed in pre-coffee darkness. Through the door’s decorative window, I could make out a man in an expensive suit standing on my front porch, his posture suggesting both importance and impatience. Behind him, a sleek black BMW that probably cost more than my house gleamed in the morning sun, its German engineering practically radiating superiority over my aging Buick.

Sophie’s lawyer, I realized. She must have been quite optimistic about my burglary skills to send him first thing in the morning. Though given Martinez’s ghost pastry crisis last night, perhaps her confidence wasn’t entirely misplaced.

I opened the door to find myself face to face with the mysterious suit-wearing visitor from Sophie’s bakery. Up close, his tailoring was even more impressive – the kind of bespoke craftsmanship that made my own wardrobe look like it came from a discount bin at a thrift store. His leather briefcase alone probably cost more than my entire closet, and the watch peeking from his sleeve could likely pay off my car.

“Mr. Butterfield?” He extended a manicured hand. “Elijah Phillips. Sophie mentioned you might have something for me?” His tone carried the particular confidence of someone used to getting exactly what they want, precisely when they want it.

His grip was firm but not aggressive, the handshake of someone who’d perfected the art of professional cordiality. A faint trace of expensive cologne lingered in the air between us, making my own discount drugstore soap feel suddenly inadequate.

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