Bloody Good Marmalade Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  BLOODY GOOD MARMALADE

  DEDICATION

  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

  Bloody

  Good

  Marmalade

  Jams, Jellies and Murder

  Book 2

  Donna Walo Clancy

  Copyright 2017 Summer Prescott Books

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.

  **This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.

  Author’s Note: On the next page, you’ll find out how to access all of my books easily, as well as locate books by best-selling author, Summer Prescott. I’d love to hear your thoughts on my books, the storylines, and anything else that you’d like to comment on – reader feedback is very important to me. Please see the following page for my publisher’s contact information. If you’d like to be on her list of “folks to contact” with updates, release and sales notifications, etc…just shoot her an email and let her know. Thanks for reading!

  Also…

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  DEDICATION

  * * *

  This book is dedicated to anyone who loves Halloween as much as I do.

  When I am done decorating for the spooky holiday, my children say that my house is bathed in Halloween.

  May you run into many a friendly ghost, avoid zombies and vampires, and may your cauldron always be overflowing with Halloween treats.

  Boo!

  BLOODY GOOD

  MARMALADE

  Jams, Jellies and Murder

  Book 2

  CHAPTER 1

  * * *

  “Are you kidding me?” Tabby asked, holding two cases of newly filled jelly jars. “I can’t keep up.”

  “People sure love your Gram’s jellies,” Janice confirmed.

  “Yes, they do, don’t they?”

  Tabby stared at the wooden shelves that ran the length of one side of her shop. Her mind traveled back to opening day. The shelves were packed with jars of different colored jellies; that was the last time the shelves had been that full.

  “Not to mention you have eight weddings booked for next year,” Janice said, taking one of the cases from her boss.

  Tabitha Moon opened her new business, Jellies, Jams, and Weddings in June. With her Gram’s coveted recipes and her training as a wedding planner, Tabby’s shop was an instant success. It was so busy during the summer tourist seasons, she had to hire another part-time employee so she could concentrate on cooking the treasured jellies.

  Thelma Sprague, a childhood friend of her Gram’s, came to work four days a week from ten to two. She knew all the locals and was a social butterfly with the tourists. Her age had taken nothing away from her wit or sharpness. Tiny in stature, but powerful in personality, she would man the register at the shop which freed up Tabby and Janice to do the other things that needed to get done.

  Tabby was cooking daily. The smells filled Main Street and drew in new customers. Her most popular jelly, Blue Sin, was gone as soon as the jars hit the shelf. Blueberries were a summer fruit. Soon she would feature a new flavor jelly in the front window. She had been experimenting with Blood Orange Marmalade. It was a fitting choice for Autumn and for Halloween.

  Labor Day would be here shortly. The tourists would disappear and things would slow down except for the weekends which would remain busy until Columbus Day. The downtime during the week would give Tabby time to stockpile her jellies for the Christmas shoppers. At the end of October, summer houses would be closed up, vacant until the warm weather returned along with the beginning of a new tourist season.

  With each passing day, Tabby was gaining more confidence in her jelly making. She was creating new flavors on her own. She was adding butters and sauces to her line of jellies.

  “I hear through the town grapevine that you turned down the nomination to be chairperson for Whipper Will Haunt-A-Thon this year.”

  “I turned that down last night. Word sure travels fast around here,” Tabby laughed. “I don’t have time to do it this year.”

  “Who’s running it?” Janice inquired.

  “Lily Payne took the position. Lily’s Layover, her bed and breakfast, slows down enough that she could put the time in to run the haunt-a-thon. I think she’ll do a great job,” Tabby answered. “I did agree to co-chair the haunted house this year.”

  “Do you have any idea where you are going to hold it?”

  “I don’t know yet. When the Hanson house burnt down last December, it left us short one haunted house in town. We’d been using that place for the last ten years.”

  “What about the old Pelton farmhouse? It’s been vacant since Mrs. Pelton died. I know it was bought by the new owners, the Capri family, but they built a brand-new house on the opposite end of the farm property and don’t use the abandoned building,” Janice suggested.

  “What a great idea! I’ll have to talk to them.”

  “Actually, it wasn’t my idea. Anthony Capri came in here yesterday looking for you. It was his suggestion the old farmhouse be used this year. They told him at Roger’s Barber Shop that you were on the committee every year.”

  “Well, if he’s offering, I guess I’m accepting. That place would make an awesome haunted house. Have you ever been in there? It’s really creepy.”

  “No, I stayed away from old man Pelton and his property,” Janice shivered. “He used to shoot kids in the butt with rock salt if you went near his house.”

  “You have to admit, though, Pelton Farms had the best corn. It was so sweet. I can remember eating it every summer growing up. The locals were so upset when the farm closed down.”

  “Yeah, the corn was tasty, but the scarecrows were terrifying,” Janice admitted.

  “I’m glad the Capri family decided to grow corn again. It was just as good this summer as it was when old man Pelton grew it. Maybe I can talk Mr. Capri into doing a corn maze this year,” Tabby said, setting the last full jar on the shelf.

  “It would be nice to come out of a maze right in front of the farmhouse. People could participate in both in one night,” Janice stated as she dusted the tops of the jars.

  “Hey, it’s kind of slow today. Do you have any errands you need to run? I can watch the shop.”

  “I do need to go to the flower shop and order a plant to be sent to my mother for her birthday,” Janice commented.

  “Go, enjoy the sunshine. Take the afternoon off. You’ve been working really hard all summer.”

  “I think I will, thanks,” Janice said, grabbing her purse from under the counter. “See you tomorrow.”

>   “Say hi to Greg for me,” Tabby yelled as Janice exited the back door.

  Greg Stone was the owner of the local flower shop, Smells So Fine. His shop was located on the north end of Main Street. Tabby and Greg had been dating for a few months. A bidding war over a frog fountain brought them together and the excitement of solving mysteries kept them together. Greg was a firm believer in love at first sight, like his dad was. He knew the first time he met Tabby she was the one for him.

  The busy summer did not allow them much time away from their respective shops. Sunday, the only day that both businesses were closed were spent together. The couple was looking forward to the Fall when things would slow down.

  Tabby walked to the back room and pulled some catalogs out of the file cabinet. It was almost time to start dressing up the shop for Halloween. She had already purchased some decorations, but still needed scary items for the front window. Jellies, Jams, and Weddings had to win the Main Street window decorating contest for at least one of the upcoming holidays. Her mother’s shop, Mystic Happenings, had won the Halloween contest for the last five years. Tabby was on a mission to dethrone her.

  Two hours passed while Tabby got lost in catalogs and ordered items online. Customers came into the shop sporadically. Ghost, Tabby’s all white cat had come through the cat door and curled up on the counter next to the register in his usual spot. Marmalade, so named because of her beautiful orange fur was playing with her kitty toys under the wedding table where Tabby was sitting. The cats had been abandoned in a cardboard box and found by Greg and Tabby.

  At their new home, they had become accustomed to coming down to the shop during the day and being upstairs in the apartment at night. They were the shop’s mascots and well known by all the locals.

  “Hi, stranger,” Greg said, coming through the front door. “What’s up?”

  “Not much. What are you doing here?” Tabby asked, pushing aside the catalog she was perusing.

  “I didn’t take a lunch so I left the shop for a quick cup of coffee and a kiss from my favorite girl,” Greg smiled, his blue eyes twinkling.

  “I better be your only girl,” Tabby warned, reaching up to put her arms around Greg’s neck and running her fingers through his jet-black hair.

  “Speaking of only, what’s this I hear about a strange man asking around town about you?” Greg teased.

  “Are you talking about Anthony Capri? He’s trying to get a hold of me to donate the use of the old abandoned farmhouse on his property for our haunted house this year. Don’t worry, he’s married.”

  “You know how things get blown out of proportion around here. Gladys was sitting on her stool at the coffee shop telling anyone who would listen that this man was looking for you,” Greg laughed.

  Gladys Twittle, nicknamed ‘The Mouth’, was the town gossip. If anything was happening in town, she knew about it. And then, so did everyone else. She had a bad habit of popping up when least expected and was not liked by too many of the locals. Her husband, Donald, on the other hand, was liked by everyone.

  “I have to get back to the flower shop,” Greg said. “Supper tonight at the diner?”

  “Sure. I’ll meet you there at six-thirty.”

  Ghost woke up when he heard Greg’s voice and jumped down off the counter. He rubbed up against his favorite human’s leg.

  “Hi, buddy,” he said, bending down to pat his friend.

  “I swear Ghost is your cat, not mine,” Tabby complained, shaking her head.

  “Us guys have to stick together, right Ghost?” Greg replied, flashing his signature to-die-for smile. “Don’t tell your mistress I told you this, but someday we will live in the same house together.”

  Tabby picked up the white cat so he wouldn’t follow Greg out the door. Marmalade got jealous and wanted to be picked up too. Holding a cat in each arm, Tabby kissed Greg goodbye and watched him walk out the door. She set the cats down once the door was closed.

  “It’s almost time to close the shop, my furry friends,” Tabby said.

  She was in the backroom straightening things up on her work table when the front doorbell sounded. Tabby looked out through the lace curtain.

  A handsome, olive-skinned man in tight jeans and a flannel shirt was looking over the jellies. He looked to be of Italian decent. He picked up two jars of jelly and walked to the register.

  “Hello?” he said, placing the jars on the counter. “Anyone here besides the cats?”

  “I’m here,” Tabby replied, coming out from behind the curtain.

  “Hi, I’m Anthony Capri,” he said, offering his hand to shake.

  “I’m Tabitha Moon. People call me Tabby. Nice to meet you.”

  “You are just the person I am looking for. Rumor has it you need a new haunted house this year for the Halloween Haunt-A-Thon. I’m offering the old Pelton farmhouse if you would like to use it.”

  “That would be awesome. The Hanson house burned down over the winter; gas line explosion or something. The Pelton place would be perfect.”

  “Then it’s yours to use. Here are the keys to the front door. This way you have a couple of months to get things together and not be rushed.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you, but I do have another favor I would like to ask of you.”

  “Ask away.”

  “I know you grew corn on the farm this year; it was delicious by the way. The locals agreed it was just like old man Pelton’s corn used to taste. So, I was thinking, could you possibly do a small corn maze that would exit at the front of the farmhouse? Nothing elaborate. It could just be something easy and fun that would lead to the haunted house.”

  “I’ll tell you what. I will do your corn maze if you will help me with some detective work I need done,” Anthony bartered. “I hear you are good at solving mysteries.”

  “It’s not something I chose to do. They just seem to find me,” Tabby laughed.

  “Something is not right on my farm. I have found bones…”

  Before Tabby could ask any further questions, the front door bell chimed. Gladys Twittle walked into the shop. Tabby put her finger over her lips signaling Anthony not to say anything else. The town gossip walked up to the shelves next to the register so she could hear what was being said.

  “Can I help you with something, Gladys?” Tabby inquired.

  “Nope. Just browsing, thank you,” the nosy woman answered, picking up jars and pretending to read the labels.

  It was obvious she wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. At least not until she had some juicy gossip she could share at The Tilted Coffee Cup the next morning. Tabby had seen her walk by the shop only to return and enter a minute later. Gladys must have seen Anthony Capri standing at the counter and had to find out why he had been asking about her around town.

  “Mr. Capri, your offer for the use of the farmhouse for our Halloween celebration is wonderful. You have given us a solution to a big problem our committee was facing,” Tabby said, trying to sound professional. “Here is my business card. Please feel free to call me if you have any questions or need any help with the maze. I will be in touch to let you know when I will visit you to address the problems associated with your offer.”

  “I look forward to your call,” Anthony replied, taking her business card. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Twittle.”

  Seconds after Anthony left the shop Gladys put down the jar she was holding and ran out the front door. Tabby smiled to herself. She knew Gladys had no intention of shopping in her store. The Mouth was only there to dig up her next story. It was no wonder she was so disliked around town.

  “It’s time to lock the doors,” Tabby informed the two cats following her. “Do you want some supper?”

  Marmalade meowed as if answering her. Ghost walked through the kitty door and up the stairs to the apartment. The cats had settled into a working routine the same as Tabby had. The shop was secured for the night. Tabby shut off the lights and put Marmalade down on the stairs so she could lock the door between t
he shop and her apartment.

  The cats were eating their supper as Tabby left to join Greg at the diner. She decided to walk and enjoy the cool, crisp evening air. The trees on Main Street had started to change into their autumn costumes of color. The street lights shining on the trees gave the sky an appearance of a patchwork quilt. This was Tabby’s favorite time of year.

  It was almost six-thirty as Tabby passed the alley next to the bookstore. A dark figure popped out of the shadows and grabbed her arm. A hand was clamped over her mouth making it impossible for her to scream for help. She was dragged into the darkness of the alley.

  CHAPTER 2

  “Please, don’t scream. I am not going to hurt you. It’s me, Anthony Capri,” whispered the figure hidden by the shadows.

  “What do you think you are doing?” Tabby demanded. “You scared the life out of me!”

  “Keep your voice down. I don’t want anyone to know I am talking to you,” he pleaded. “But I had to talk to someone.”

  “Does this have something to do with what you started to tell me this afternoon?” Tabby asked, starting to relax a little.

  “Yes. I don’t know what happened on my property, but I am finding bones; lots of bones. I found a skull yesterday, a human skull,” the scared man whispered.

  “Did you call the sheriff?”

  “No, not yet. I am so new to this area I didn’t know who I can trust. All the locals think so highly of you I thought you were someone I could talk to.”

  “When did you find the bones?”

  “I found a few of them last spring when I started to turn the fields for planting. I told my wife about them. She laughed it off saying it was my overactive imagine running wild again. She said they were probably animal bones.”

  “Why would she say that?”

  “I am a closet writer. I write short stories, but never send them out for publishing. My favorite ones to write are horror stories. I guess that’s why she laughed at me.”