Caramel Drip Murder (A Spies and Food Truck Cozy Mystery Book 3) by Rosie A. Point

Author:Rosie A. Point [Point, Rosie A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-08-20T00:00:00+00:00

Twelve

I waited until everyone had gone to bed, until the guesthouse was creaking and groaning, settling after a long day under the sun. Trouble snoozed at the end of my bed, unbothered as I changed into stark black clothing with matching black leather gloves and strapped on my utility belt.

I switched off the lights in my bedroom, checked the door was locked, then slid my window open and slipped out into the night.

The police had been quiet about what was happening with the case, which was great for the investigation, but not great for Sam. She’d spent the evening serving food while tears welled in her eyes, and she’d taken plenty of breaks.

I didn’t blame the guests for being suspicious of her after the rumors that had spread, but I couldn’t let this continue. I needed evidence. Clues. Something that would point me toward an answer or a trail I could follow.

The bottles washing up on the shore were fascinating.

They had to be connected to the murder.

I slunk down the street, keeping to the shadows, and heading into the suburbs where the Clark’s stayed. Mr. Clark had let it drop that he spent most of his time at his assistant’s house, preparing for the upcoming election, which meant his home should be empty. An easy target.

Sam had told me his address.

That was the benefit of staying in a small town. Everyone knew everyone else and their business. Which meant it wasn’t that strange to ask where someone stayed. Gossip was rife, and people were expected to show interest in the lives of others. What else was there to do around here?

The Clark residence was a cozy home without any fencing. The garden was neatly kept, and a paved brick path led up to the front steps that led onto a broad porch. The Clark’s clearly cared about their double story home. The flower beds were neat, the law raked free of leaves, and there was a cute gnome hiding in the bushes that flanked the steps, peaking out as if to greet visitors.

The mailbox was decorative, another gnome painted on its side, tipping its hat, with the word “The Clarks” underneath it.

A happy home. Or the appearance of one.

I checked the coast was clear then hurried up onto the porch. I checked flowerpots and under the mat for a key, found one and inserted it into the lock.

Hurriedly, I unzipped my fanny pack and removed a flat silver cylinder from within. I ran my gloved finger over the smooth surface then tapped it. The device glowed red then green.

It was an incredibly hi-tech device—a jammer that could disable security systems with a single click in a localized area, with the added benefit of hacking the code as well. Meaning I could set the alarm once I left the house, to make sure that the occupants never knew I’d been inside.

Common thieves used jammers, but this one was in a class of its own.

I checked the code that scrolled along the

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