Mint Freeze Murder (A Spies and Food Truck Cozy Mystery Book 2) by Rosie A. Point

Author:Rosie A. Point [Point, Rosie A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-07-12T00:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

I spent the rest of the morning distracting myself from that phone call by serving ice cream on the truck. Hentie was a twitchy shadow of her former self who kept checking on Barkington in his crate every five minutes. He was a great emotional support to her, and it made me wish I had a dog of my own.

But the life of a spy on the run didn’t lend itself to having a dog.

Or friends, as Grant pointed out.

The customers came in droves. People who leered at Hentie after the article in the newspaper this morning. It was just our luck that the newspaper had both an online and physical edition. There were a couple of people who sat on the bench that overlooked the bay, reading their papers, staring over the tops of them.

“All right,” I said, at a quarter past one in the afternoon. “That’s it for today.”

“For the whole day?” Hentie asked. “But it’s hot. The people will want ice creams.”

“Then they can buy some store bought because I’m done with the staring. And you look like you’re one ice cream cone away from passing out from fear.”

“I’m fine. I promise.”

“Hentie, it’s okay. Let’s clean up, grab Barkington, and go check out this jewelry store.”

Hentie brushed her hands off on her cute pink and blue frilly apron. “That sounds like a plan.”

The drive over to the jewelry store was taken in silence, with Barkington harnessed in his crate, and Hentie chewing on her nails and staring out at the passing brick stores. Once we were past the boardwalk, the streets quietened down a great deal.

The jewelry store was more of a boutique, and it wasn’t a jewelry store that specialized in engagement rings or diamond necklaces. It was a specialty place, called Tink’s Jewelry, with display cases that showed off rings, necklaces, and bracelets that had been hand-made. As indicated by the signs in the windows.

I opened the door and entered the well-lit shop, with its display cases and velvety blue wallpaper.

“Hello there.” A woman smiled at us from the counter at the front of the store. She wore a strange pair of binoculars that made her look steampunk and magnified her eyes by at least three times. She lifted them off her face and placed them atop her auburn curls. “My name’s Tink. Pleasure to meet you.”

“April,” I said.

Hentie twitched. Barkington barked.

“This is Hentie and that’s Barkington.”

“Isn’t he delightful,” she said. “What an adorable dog. Cutest I’ve ever seen.”

That got Hentie smiling back at the jeweler. “Do you want to pat him on the head?”

Tink wiped her hands off on her apron then circled her counter and offered Barkington a sniff of her fingers. He gave them a perfunctory lick and whined at her.

“What can I help you with today?” Tink asked. “Are you looking for a particular style of piece? I make tiaras and bracelets, rings, necklaces, just about anything you can think of, and I fill them with all my love and care.”

“This

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