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Last Chance for Murder (Lisa Chance Cozy Mysteries Book 1)
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LAST CHANCE FOR MURDER
Lisa Chance Cozy Mysteries, book 1
Estelle Richards
This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
LAST CHANCE FOR MURDER
First edition.
Copyright © 2017 Estelle Richards
Cover by Spencer Pierson
Edited by Ella Medler
One last chance to get things right.
Too old for Hollywood at age 29, Lisa Chance leaves her failed acting career and a cheating boyfriend in LA and goes home to Moss Creek, Arizona.
The Folly, a stately 1870s mansion in the middle of her hometown, has always drawn Lisa like a magnet. She thought she was done with that place, but now she has the chance to turn it into the coffee shop of her dreams.
But when a dead body turns up on the property, she’s the prime suspect in the murder. Can Lisa figure out whodunit, or will she lose her last chance at happiness?
Chapter 1
It's 687 miles from Hollywood, California, to Moss Creek, Arizona. On a day with light traffic, no construction, and a driver who doesn't have to pull over every few miles to cry, the drive takes about eight and a half hours. Crying and driving, Lisa Chance took twelve hours on the road home to Moss Creek.
Two miles outside Barstow, Lisa decided she wouldn’t even stop in her hometown, but keep driving the rest of the way to the Grand Canyon and throw herself in. That would serve Dylan right for breaking her heart.
But Barstow is a notoriously depressing town. By the time Lisa reached Needles, at the Arizona border, she decided Dylan wasn’t worth killing herself over.
Pulling into the gas station in Kingman, she decided to go to the canyon, yes, but fling her engagement ring over the edge instead of herself. She would Instagram it with an artistic filter.
By the time she reached Moss Creek, the idea of another hour of driving to get to the rim of the canyon just seemed like too much. Besides, the light would be better in the morning.
She parked in front of her childhood home. A new compact SUV sat in the driveway. Lisa took a deep breath, grabbed her suitcase and hauled it to the front door.
“Mom? Dad? It’s me!”
Penny Baldwin-Chance bustled to the front door, impeccable in a cream suit with gold jewelry. “Lisa, darling, what are you doing home?”
“Gee, thanks, Mom. I’m glad to see you, too.”
“Oh, honey, of course I’m glad to see you. I’m just surprised. Did we have plans this weekend?”
Lisa thought of their many upcoming wedding planning sessions and burst into tears.
“No, no, no, don’t cry!” Penny embraced Lisa, first placing a linen hankie on her shoulder to catch any tears or smudges. “Tell Mommy what’s wrong. It’s not Dylan, is it?”
Shuddering, Lisa nodded. “He left me. Oh, Mom, it was awful. One day we’re planning the wedding, and the next day it’s over and I need to find my own place.” Lisa didn’t mention the rest of the sordid story. It was bad enough to admit to this much.
Penny shook her head. “He claimed the apartment? That little weasel. After I helped you find it. He would be stuck in some Van Nuys rathole if it weren’t for you. Come on, let’s have a cup of tea, and you can tell me all about it.”
Lisa hesitated. Telling her mother all about her love life was not in her plans.
“Where’s Daddy?” Her father, Lou Chance, had always been easier to talk to than her mother.
Penny winced and looked away. “He’s,” she waved her hand, “not here. Now let’s get that cup of tea. Unless you want something stronger. Us ladies of a certain age have a right to a drop of the good stuff now and again.” She flashed her megawatt smile at Lisa. No doubt her mother was still a highly attractive woman, even into her sixties. Lisa knew she looked a lot like her, though she still wore her sunshine blond hair down her back instead of in a meticulously cut pageboy like Penny. She thought of the comments on the call sheet at her last acting job before she left. She had played a patient in a pharmaceutical commercial, and the call sheet described her as Female Patient, Middle-Aged.
“Mom, is twenty-nine too old to wear my hair like this?”
Penny stood back and studied her daughter, giving it some thought. “You don’t look your age, but an update never hurts. I can call my stylist and get you an appointment. How long are you in town?”
Lisa perched on a barstool at the kitchen counter and stared at her reflection in the gleaming granite. “I don’t know. A week? A month?” She lowered her voice and dipped her head. “Forever?”
Penny studied her daughter’s face until Lisa started to squirm. The kettle whistled, pulling her mother’s attention away.
With a steaming mug of tea in front of her, Lisa looked at her mother again. Penny had the telltale expression that said she was planning out her daughter’s life. Lisa tried not to groan. Why had it been her mother at home instead of her father, and when would he be back so she could relax into his comforting hug?
“If you’re staying more than a week,” Penny said, “you’re going to want your own place. I know of a couple of rentals coming on the market soon, so that’s no problem.”
“Mom.”
“You’re going to want a job. I’ll put you to work at the real estate office. That flaky new receptionist seems to have trouble making up her mind whether she wants a job or a hobby in real estate, so it’ll be good to have a backup. Of course, if she does actually decide to show up for work, we can always find you something. Passing out fliers and so on.”
“Mom.”
“I know you don’t think you’re ready to date yet, but I have the perfect prospect for you. He’s young, he’s handsome, he’s a real go-getter.”
“Mom!”
Penny looked at her daughter and raised her eyebrows. “If you give him a chance, I know you’ll like him. He even changed the oil on my car, wouldn’t hear of me taking it to the shop.”
Lisa groaned. She wasn’t sure what kind of guy her mother thought would be an appropriate setup for a freshly broken heart, but a real go-getter did not sound like Lisa’s idea of the right kind of guy for her.
“If you’re done sounding like a petulant teenager who thinks that interrupting is acceptable conversational behavior, I have something to tell you.”
“What is it, Mom, and please don’t say you’ve already set up a blind date for me and this real go-getter.”
Penny pursed her lips and looked down her nose at her daughter. “You’re slouching,” she said.
Lisa sat up straighter and looked into her mug of tea.
“There’s no way to say but to say it. Your father and I are getting a divorce.”
“What?!” Lisa nearly fell off her barstool. “How can you get a divorce now, of all times? Daddy just retired, and his heart problems, and… and… I don’t know, you just can’t.”
“Why, because we’re supposed to spend our golden years together?” Penny made air quotes when she said golden years and gave a disdainful sniff. “Just because Lou wants to laze around and go hiking doesn’t mean I’m finished having real accomplishments in my life.”
“But don’t you love Daddy?”
Penny sighed. “It’s complicated, Lisa.” She came over to Lisa’s side and stroked her hair like she used to when Lisa was a little girl. “Why don’t you go get some rest now? You’ve had a long day in the car.”
*
Lisa couldn’t sleep. The bed was soft and comfortable. The curtains blocked the moonlight so the room was dark. The ceiling fan kept a constant so
othing breeze over the bed. And still, Lisa couldn’t sleep.
She rolled over and checked the time. Just past midnight. If she spent the whole night tossing in bed and worrying about everything, she wouldn’t have the energy to deal with tomorrow. Better to get up and do something.
She sat on the side of the bed and pulled the curtain aside. The moon was bright. It was reflected in the front window of her car below.
Lisa found herself pulling on her jeans and a hoodie over her baggy sleep shirt. She slipped her feet into her shoes and grabbed her keys. A drive around town might help her relax and feel sleepy. And it would get her out of her mother’s house. Even asleep, Penny emitted a strong field of expectation.
The town of Moss Creek by moonlight looked much the same as it had when Lisa was in high school. She’d done a lot of driving around with her friends back then, wishing they had somewhere to go. Of course, there was the canyon, and Flagstaff, but both were just a little too far to go if you wanted to get home by curfew.
The historic downtown district was buttoned up for the night. The stoplights flashed red, and Lisa saw no other cars.
She drove by the house where Dylan had lived growing up. The tree outside his old bedroom window had been cut down. He’d climbed out the window and down the tree so many times their senior year, she wondered if all that climbing had contributed to the tree’s demise.
She drove by the high school. A subsequent graduating class had put up a new sign out front, with a light-up display. It flashed: 12:02. 58*. Go Tigers.
Swinging around to head back up Main Street, Lisa slowed way down and then stopped in front of her favorite building, the Folly.
The Folly had been built in the initial heady days of the town. While settlers pouring in lived in row after row of tents and hastily constructed shacks, the Comstock family built a grand mansion right in the center of town.
Lisa sat in her car and looked at the house surrounded by a wrought iron fence and tall trees.
A song she associated with Dylan came on the radio, and she turned it off, then turned off the car entirely. The last thing she wanted was to listen to some sappy love song and start crying right here.
A tap on her window made her nearly jump out of her skin. A police cruiser was stopped behind her. She rolled down the window.
“Can I help you, officer?”
“Step out of the vehicle, please.”
She sighed and opened the door. Would she have to do the stupid human tricks?
“Do you need my driver’s license?” she said, climbing out of the car.
“Put your hands where I can see them, and now turn around and give your cousin a hug!”
Lisa spun around. “Toby, you jerk!” she squealed, throwing her arms around him.
Toby picked her up in a big bear hug and twirled her around. “When’d you get into town, stranger? If it’s more than a day, you’re going to be in trouble.”
“I got in tonight. I was going to call you tomorrow.”
Toby squeezed her tight and put her down. She looked up at him, buzz-cut six-foot-whatever and all cop on the outside, but still her little cousin on the inside.
“Long as you don’t call too early. New chief’s got me doing these night shifts, which is fine, but try to convince my mother I don’t need to see a sunrise.”
Lisa laughed. Aunt Olivia was an artist, and held a deep-seated belief that witnessing natural beauty was necessary for the health of the soul. Lisa could well believe that her aunt would not hesitate to wake Toby to be sure he witnessed a particularly lovely sunrise.
She leaned on Toby’s arm and gazed up at the Folly. His gaze followed hers. Up atop the three stories, the decorative iron railings perched on the mansard roof like a crown on a head of state.
Neither of them spoke. Lisa was sure Toby was also remembering the old days. As kids, they and their friends had snuck into the Folly every chance they got, exploring the dusty, high-ceilinged rooms and playing hide-and-seek. As teens, the hide-and-seek turned into more of a pairing off with a crush and finding a private spot. The night someone had called the police on them things had changed.
After that night, the front gate was padlocked, and Lisa hadn’t been back inside the mansion since.
Lisa shivered. The air was taking on a definite chill. September in the mountains could get cold at night.
“You should get home,” Toby said, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
She yawned. “I owe you lunch.”
Toby’s face was sober. “I owe you a lot more than just lunch.”
The memory of her time in jail floated to the surface of her mind, and she pushed it away. “Never mind.” She opened her car door. “Lunch tomorrow?”
“You know it.”
Chapter 2
The curtains on the windows in the guest room of Penny’s beautifully appointed home could not compete with the early morning beam of sunshine that had come all the way through millions of miles of space to dodge the evergreen needles of the ponderosa pine forest outside the log-and-glass house, sneak around the curtains and hit Lisa directly in the face. Lisa would have put a pillow over her head and ignored the light but the insistent chirping of her phone’s message alert dragged her into full wakefulness.
She grabbed her phone and silenced it, then looked at the time. 5:27. Who thought that 5:27 in the morning was a good time to send a text? She looked at the phone again. Of course. Aunt Olivia.
“Beautiful sunrise today! Don’t miss it! Toby says you’re in town. Come to breakfast, coffee is perking!” the text said.
Lisa flopped back on her pillow and groaned. Toby had ratted her out to his mother. She loved Olivia, would be glad to see her, but really missed that extra couple hours of sleep.
She sat up in bed as another thought hit her. Her mother didn’t want to talk about the big news — the divorce — but Aunt Olivia should have the inside scoop.
She hopped out of bed and pulled together an outfit from the stuffed suitcase at the foot of the bed. Not her fashion best, and a little wrinkled, but acceptable for an early breakfast.
*
“Aunt Olivia? It’s Lisa!”
The front door of her aunt’s house had a new piece of art since the last time Lisa had visited. A brass sculpture of a Scottish terrier gazed out at the neighborhood from Olivia’s door. After looking at it a moment, Lisa realized the sculpture was a door knocker, and the dog’s tail was the handle. She took the tail and lifted it to rap on the door.
A moment later, the door opened and her aunt, Olivia Baldwin, stood there in a smock covered in paint splotches. She folded Lisa into a hug and pulled her inside.
“Good morning, Lisa, dear. I’m so glad you were up.”
“I see you have a new door knocker,” Lisa said.
Olivia laughed. “Yes, that is a bit of fun. Last winter I was keeping company with a Scottish sculptor. He had to go back to Dun Burnie or some such place but he said he hoped the piece would remind me of him.”
“And does it?”
“Only when someone asks about it. Now come in and get a mug. I have a new coffee blend you should just love.”
Lisa tried the coffee and held back a grimace. Her aunt had blended two flavored coffees (chocolate and blueberry) and added chicory.
“Spicy, isn’t it?”
Lisa nodded. “You could call it that.”
“Did you have anything like this at that fancy coffee shop you worked at in Hollywood?”
Lisa thought of the Coffee Spot, her home away from home for the last five years. The shop was tucked away in a strip mall in a shady intersection in Studio City, and was frequented by a constant assortment of hopefuls. Actors, writers, musicians, comedians, even an aspiring producer or two, all used the shop like their own little office. An office with some of the best, most freshly roasted coffee in the greater Los Angeles area. Lisa knew all the regulars, by drink order and face if not always by name. The famous ones liked it when she referred to them as Doub
le Espresso or Iced Soy Latte rather than by name like some star-struck fan. She felt a pang of longing. Dylan had taken away more than just her romantic hopes. He’d stolen her sense of community. Even though she’d grown up in a small town, which popular lore would have you believe automatically means a sense of community, it wasn’t until she started working at the Coffee Spot that she truly felt at home.
At the Coffee Spot, Lisa had been in charge of taste-testing new coffee blends, and her aunt’s chocolate-blueberry-chicory monstrosity would never have made it on the menu.
She shook her head and tried another sip. Nope, still not good. Moss Creek could really use a good coffee shop, not just for the coffee but for the community.
“Now sit down right here and look at this view.”
Olivia led her out onto the deck, where she revealed a platter of bacon and ham under a cloche on the table. Looking over the side of the deck, Lisa saw that the vegetable garden had been transformed into a sculpture garden. More metal dogs cavorted on the lawn. A giant metal cat towered over them, seemingly a heartbeat away from pouncing.
Lisa took a bite of bacon. This seemed like a good time to try to pump her aunt for information about her parents.
“So, Aunt Olivia, how have you been lately? Have you been spending much time with my mom?”
Olivia munched on a piece of bacon and shrugged. “Oh, you know how it is with us. She’s busy buying and selling pieces of Mother Earth, I’m busy helping people commune with the artistic spirit in all of us.”
Lisa nodded. For sisters, her mother and aunt really didn’t seem to have much in common. “And how is the gallery these days?”
Olivia shook her head. “People don’t understand how much they need art in their lives. And in their homes, and on their walls. But I’m hanging in there. So few great artists are discovered in their own lifetimes, I suppose it’s hubris to expect to be one of them.”
“How about Daddy? How is he taking the, um, news?”
Olivia squinted at her. “Now why would I know that?”