Lemonade and Lies (Peridale Cafe Cozy Mystery Book 2)

  Lemonade and Lies

  A Peridale Café Cozy Mystery Book 2

  By Agatha Frost

  About This Book

  Released: February 2017

  Words: 40,000

  Series: Book 2 - Peridale Cozy Café Mystery Series

  Standalone: Yes

  Cliff-hanger: No

  When the entire village is invited to a garden party for a mysterious ‘special announcement’, nobody expected that party to end with a man being thrown to his death from a window. The murder is committed at Julia South’s estranged father’s manor, so all eyes in Peridale turn to her to solve the case. In a race against the clock, Julia must juggle her blossoming romance with Detective Inspector Brown, and her young lodger, Jessie’s, sudden strange behaviour, to uncover the truth behind the man’s untimely death. With members of her own family in the frame, will Julia like what she discovers?

  ***

  Copyright © Agatha Frost

  Cover designed by Ashley Mcloughlin

  Edited by Keri Lierman

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  For questions and comments about this book, please contact the author at agathafrostauthor@gmail.com

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  OTHER BOOKS IN THE PERIDALE CAFÉ COZY MYSTERY SERIES

  Pancakes and Corpses (Book 1)

  OUT NOW!

  Lemonade and Lies (Book 2)

  OUT NOW!

  Doughnuts and Deception (Book 3)

  COMING MARCH 7th 2017!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Book 3 Sneak Peek!

  Julia awoke to the sound of banging again. She stared at her bedroom ceiling, darkness suffocating her vision. She tossed and turned, clutching at her eyes, forgetting she was wearing an eye mask. The first hints of the oncoming sunrise were slipping through the darkness. It was earlier in the morning than she would like to acknowledge.

  Yanking off her eye mask, she looked at the dark beams in her small cottage’s low ceiling. Another low thud echoed through the darkness to remind her why she had awoken.

  Julia tossed back her satin duvet and slid her feet into the warm sheepskin slippers her gran had given to her for Christmas. She stood up, her knees creaking more with each day. A quick glance in the mirror at her pale pink nightie and her wild curly hair reminded her that she was only thirty-seven. She wouldn’t have to start worrying about her knees giving way for another couple of years, or so she hoped. She thought of her octogenarian gran, who was still darting around the village like a woman in her twenties.

  She hurried along the hallway, a chill brushing against her exposed legs. Her grey Maine Coon, Mowgli, was softly purring in a fluffy ball on the doormat, unaware of the night-time disturbance.

  Julia stopped outside of her guest bedroom, which was currently being occupied by her new sixteen-year-old lodger, Jessika, who went by the name Jessie. Julia had never expected to take a young girl into her home, but she also hadn’t expected to find that same girl breaking into her café and stealing cakes on a regular basis. Julia could have taken the homeless girl to the police, but she decided to do the kinder thing. She gave the girl a home, and a job helping out in Julia’s café.

  Hovering her knuckles over the wood, she almost knocked, but she decided against waking Jessie. She knew how dangerous that could be for a sleepwalker.

  Julia pried open Jessie’s bedroom door as silently as she could, which wasn’t easy in the centuries old cottage. She felt the entire timber frame scream out, a piercing creak cracking like a whip through the silence. In the corner of her eye, Mowgli looked up from his slumber, before tucking his nose back under his paw.

  Jessie had been living with Julia for nearly a month but the sleepwalking was new. This was the fourth time it had woken Julia. She had felt useless to help her young lodger at first, but after a quick internet search, she was more equipped to deal with the situation.

  She made out the shadow of Jessie through the dark as she delicately and rhythmically pounded her head against her wardrobe door. Her long, dark hair hung over her face, contrasting against her stark white nightie, making her look like she had crawled out of the screen of a horror film. Julia wasn’t scared; she was just an ordinary girl after all.

  Julia did the only thing she could do. She placed her hand between Jessie’s forehead and the wood, softening the blow. As though she could consciously sense the change, the movement stopped, but she didn’t wake. Without saying a word, Julia guided Jessie back to her bed, which she climbed back into with ease. It hadn’t been as simple the night before.

  After tucking Jessie back in, Julia gazed down at the girl, wondering how she had survived living on the streets for so long. Jessie hadn’t talked much about it, so Julia hadn’t asked, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t curious.

  Julia turned and spotted a book on Jessie’s nightstand. The cover and title made her smile. She picked up ‘Baking For Beginners’ and flicked to the front page. It seemed that Jessie had borrowed it from Peridale’s tiny library without Julia’s knowledge. In the weeks Jessie had been working in the café, she had been clearing tables, washing up, and assisting in Julia’s baking. Julia could sense Jessie was itching to get her hands properly stuck into baking her own creations.

  When she seemed at peace in bed, Julia placed the cookbook exactly where she had found it. She backed out of the room, cautiously closing the creaking door. She walked past her own bedroom and straight into the kitchen. She dropped one of her favourite peppermint and liquorice teabags into a cup and filled the kettle.

  She flicked on her under-counter lights and pulled up a stool. The cat clock with the flickering eyes and swishing tail told her it was a little after six. Letting out a slow yawn, she knew she would pay for her early start later in the café. Saturdays were always the busiest days but at least she had Jessie’s help now.

  Julia cast her eyes to the white envelope sitting on the corner of her counter. The divorce papers enclosed within had been read over and signed, and the envelope resealed ready for posting to her solicitor. She wanted to post them, but just like a bad cold, she was finding it difficult to get rid of them.

  The moment they were with her solicitor again, she would be divorced. Considering she didn’t much like her soon-to-be ex-husband, she should have been happy about finally cutting ties from him, but happiness was an emotion that evaded anything surrounding the break up. More than anything, she felt she had failed, not just her marriage, but herself. She had changed so much and abandoned her village to join her husband, Jerrad, in London. Twelve years later, she found her bags on the doorstep along with a note telling her he had changed the locks because he w
as in love with his secretary, who was ten years Julia’s junior and twenty pounds lighter around the middle.

  Two years later, Julia now owned her small cottage on the outskirts of Peridale, the village she had grown up in. She had opened her own café in the heart of the community, and now she had a lodger, as well as her cat. She felt she was truly content with her life, which didn’t explain to her why she was clinging onto the envelope.

  Tossing back the last of her tea, she cursed herself under her breath. She promised herself today would be the day she dropped them in at the post office.

  No more excuses.

  Jessie woke with her alarm clock at eight. The sun was high in the clear sky and Julia was already washed and dressed for work. She had also already made good progress with her usual morning baking to fill the display cases in her café.

  “This was on the doormat,” Jessie grumbled as she scratched her hair, flinging a lavender envelope on top of the divorce papers. “I had the craziest dream last night.”

  “Oh?” Julia asked, avoiding Jessie’s still half-closed eyes. “What about?”

  “It’s already gone,” Jessie said with a shrug. “What are you baking?”

  “I’m trying to perfect Sally and Richard’s wedding cake recipe,” Julia said, pushing a finished cupcake in front of Jessie. “I just can’t seem to get the balance right.”

  Jessie took a big bite out of the cupcake. Julia didn’t have to wait long for the verdict. Jessie immediately spat the mixture back into the cake casing and pulled a face that reminded Julia of the time Mowgli licked chilli powder off the counter.

  “Oh, God. What’s in that?”

  “Cinnamon, orange and rose,” Julia said with a heavy sigh, looking at the dozen cupcakes she had just baked, hoping to be able to sell them in the café. “I might just have to tell Sally it can’t be done. Was there too much rose?”

  “There was too much everything,” Jessie said, shaking her head, looking down at the cupcake with disgust. “Who wants a cinnamon, orange and rose wedding cake, anyway?”

  Julia had to wonder. She was often people’s first port of call when they wanted a wedding cake but didn’t want to pay the out of town bakery prices. Julia prided herself on her baking, humbly accepting that she was the best baker in the village, but even she sometimes got it wrong. She had quickly learned she could count on Jessie to tell the truth. She was a girl who did not mince her words.

  “Can I have one of your fancy teabag things?” Jessie asked as she wandered over to the kettle. “And some painkillers? My head is banging.”

  Julia fished two painkillers out of her designation junk drawer in her kitchen, and slid them across the counter to Jessie. She thought about telling her about the sleepwalking, but she didn’t want to alarm her. Julia was hoping it would stop before it got too serious, but from her research, it could be a recurring problem that usually intensified when somebody was under extreme pressure or stress. Julia thought giving Jessie a home and a job had taken that stress off her young shoulders. Had she given her too much responsibility too soon?

  Julia sat at the counter and pulled a corner off one of the cupcakes. As usual, Jessie had been right about the overpowering flavour. It wasn’t often her baking found its way straight into the bin, but these were nowhere near the high standard the villagers of Peridale expected from her café.

  Jessie put a cup of peppermint and liquorice tea in front of Julia, and pulled up the chair next to her. Julia turned her attention to the lavender coloured envelope, suddenly realising it was far too early for the postman to have made his way up to her cottage.

  “You found this on the doormat?” Julia asked as she picked up the envelope.

  “That’s what I said.”

  Julia turned it over in her hands. It had no stamp, and it was simply addressed to ‘Julia’ in such ornate and delicate lettering it resembled art.

  “Who hand delivers letters this early in the morning?” Julia wondered aloud.

  “A nutter. I’m going for a shower. I smell like Mowgli after he’s been rolling in the garden.”

  Leaving her tea unfinished, Jessie shuffled to the bathroom, and it wasn’t long before rushing water and the sound of Jessie’s singing floated through the cottage. Julia smiled to herself. She had come to enjoy Jessie’s company more than she had expected.

  After taking a sip of her hot tea, Julia tore open the tight seal of the envelope, the overpowering scent of lavender filling her nostrils. She winced. Her mother had hated the smell of lavender and Julia had inherited that quirk. As she pulled the letter out of the envelope, Mowgli jumped up onto the counter. He sniffed the unfinished cupcake, then the letter; he turned his nose up at both.

  “Alright, I get it!” she said, tickling under Mowgli’s chin. “It’s awful!’

  The heavily scented letter appeared to be an invitation, handwritten in the same ornate lettering as her name on the envelope. She scanned the invitation, her eyes honing in on the signature at the bottom. Her stomach knotted when she saw ‘Katie Wellington-South’.

  Starting back at the top where her own name was, she read through the detailed invitation:

  Dear Julia,

  It gives me great pleasure to invite you to Peridale Manor for a very special garden party, where I, Katie Wellington-South, and my dear husband, Brian South, will be making an exciting announcement.

  Please arrive at Peridale Manor at noon on Sunday March 11th. You are welcome to bring one guest.

  We look forward to your attendance, and we cannot wait to share our very special news with you.

  With hugs and kisses,

  Katie Wellington-South.

  Julia didn’t know how many times she read over the invitation, picking over every word, trying to decode what secrets were going to be revealed at the ‘very special garden party’. She didn’t like where her imagination was taking her.

  “Katie Wellington-South?” Jessie mumbled as she read the invitation over Julia’s shoulder, breaking her from her thoughts. “Who’s that?”

  “My father’s wife,” Julia said, pushing the scented paper back into its envelope. “She’s inviting us to a garden party tomorrow.”

  “Don’t you mean your step-mother?” Jessie asked as she rubbed a towel through her dark hair. “I’ve been with enough families to know your dad’s missus is your step-mum.”

  “Katie Wellington is not my step-mother,” Julia said quickly. “Come on, get dressed. We’re going to be late to open the café.”

  Jessie rolled her eyes and headed off to her bedroom, leaving Julia to read over the note again. When her sister and gran both called one after the other asking if she too had received an invitation, she was only surprised it had taken them so long to call.

  “Are you going?” Sue had asked.

  “Are you going?” her gran had asked.

  Julia had given them both the same response.

  “I don’t know.”

  And she didn’t. As they drove towards the centre of Peridale village with the morning’s bakes carefully fastened in on the backseat, Julia drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, wondering what kind of announcement could be so important that it needed a garden party to make it. In the depths of her mind, she heard the sound of a baby crying, and every hair on her body stood on end.

  It wasn’t until she was pulling into her parking space between her café and the post office that she realised she had, once again, forgotten to pick up the divorce papers off the kitchen counter.

  Julia was surprised to find herself at Peridale Manor the next morning. Looking up at the sandstone bricks of the old enormous manor house, she felt comfort in knowing most of the village had also received hand delivered lavender invitations. One of the many perks of owning a café was that Julia didn’t have to seek out gossip, it usually found her.

  “You’ve never spoken about your dad before,” Jessie said carefully, appearing to sense Julia’s tension. “Are you close?”

  “Not anymore,�
� Julia said, her fingers tightening around the Victoria sponge cake she had baked that morning. “Should we ring the doorbell? I’m surprised more people aren’t here yet.”

  Julia checked her silver wristwatch, wondering why she had thought it was a good idea to get there an hour early. She had hoped to ease herself into the day, but she hadn’t expected to be the only one to show up so soon.

  “Maybe we should wait in the car for more people to show?” Jessie suggested, hooking her thumb back to Julia’s vintage aqua blue Ford Anglia, which was sitting quietly on the gravel driveway.

  “That might look a little odd.”

  “And standing on the doorstep doesn’t? What’s so bad about your dad and his missus anyway?”

  Before Julia could answer, Jessie jabbed a finger on the ivory doorbell. It tinkled throughout the house, bouncing off the various wooden and marble surfaces that Julia knew lay beyond the front door. Jessie unapologetically winked at Julia, and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her scruffy jeans. She had refused Julia’s offer of driving to the late-night mall out of town to buy a dress for the occasion.

  The door opened and Julia was relieved not to see Katie or her father. Instead, the flushed and frowning face of someone she assumed was the housekeeper greeted them.

  “Yes?” the short, dumpy woman snapped, her fierce eyes darting from Julia to Jessie, then to the cake tin. “The garden party doesn’t start for another an hour. You’ll have to come back later. We’re not ready.”

  Julia knew most faces in the village, but she didn’t recognise this one. The woman’s lined skin and pulled back wiry hair made it obvious she should have taken her retirement long ago. Charcoal black lined her bulging eyes, making them look like they could pop out and roll down the driveway at any moment.