Brie careful what you wi.., p.1

Brie Careful What You Wish For, page 1

 

Brie Careful What You Wish For
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Brie Careful What You Wish For


  Brie Careful What You Wish For

  With the summer heat sizzling, grilled cheese restaurant owner Carly Hale is thrilled to have Ross Baxter delivering her sandwiches to local seniors. She’s never met a more polite or hardworking young man, and she brushes it off when one of her more difficult customers complains about him. But then Ross returns to the woman’s home to make another delivery—and finds her dead body. The police and half the town immediately suspect he killed her, so Carly steps in to investigate, determined to prove them wrong.

  Carly soon learns that the victim had an estranged stepson and stepdaughter, both of whom needed her money to get their lives back on track. Worse still, in her younger days the dead woman had a reputation for preying on other women’s husbands, leaving broken marriages in her wake—and a list of suspects a mile long. But Ross’s fingerprints were found on the murder weapon, leaving Carly hungry for any clue she can find. Until she comes face-to-face with the killer, and realizes this time she may have bitten off more than she can chew . . .

  Title Page

  

  Copyright

  Brie Careful What You Wish For

  Linda Reilly

  Copyright © 2024 by Linda Reilly

  Cover design and illustration by Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs

  Beyond the Page Books

  are published by

  Beyond the Page Publishing

  www.beyondthepagepub.com

  ISBN: 978-1-960511-61-4

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of both the copyright holder and the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s and Beyond the Page’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to the memory of my uncle, Ret. Massachusetts State Police Captain John J. White, not only for sharing my love of books but for patiently answering all my law enforcement questions over the years. John, you are dearly missed.

  Acknowledgments

  I have so many wonderful people to thank for bringing this book to fruition. My editor, Bill Harris, for eagerly embracing the Grilled Cheese Mysteries and for his spot-on editing. Bill, it is such a pleasure to work with you.

  Roberta Baker, attorney extraordinaire, for her expert advice on Vermont probate procedures. Wendi Murphy, for suggesting the taco salad as a summer favorite of Carly’s—and for making the recipe for me! Judy Jones, for her always insightful comments and advice, and for being my ever-present cheering squad. Abby White, for suggesting the name Paisley for a sweet little pug. Melody Walker, for naming a character—real estate agent Penelope Primrose. Melody, I hope you’ll also like your walk-on role! And Meezan Hassan Ford, for suggesting the delectably cheesy title Brie Careful What You Wish For. Meezan—you totally nailed it.

  More than anything, I owe a world of thanks to all the readers who gave me such encouragement throughout the writing of the Grilled Cheese Mysteries. A special shoutout to Kelly Vaiman, Jennifer Kovaleski, and all the hardworking admins and moderators of the Fans of Linda Reilly Facebook page. You all did a phenomenal job spreading the word about the series.

  Contents

  Brie Careful What You Wish For

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  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

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Recipes

  Books by Linda Reilly

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Carly Hale looked up from behind the counter of her Grilled Cheese Eatery. She smiled when she saw Ross Baxter lope through the front door. Over six feet tall with a mop of curly black hair and sunglasses perched on his head, the eighteen-year-old flashed a grin that made his chocolate brown eyes twinkle.

  Carly gave him a thumbs-up. “Perfect timing, Ross. Grant’s just finishing up your order.”

  “Excellent! Hey, Grant.” Tilting his chin in greeting, Ross set his insulated carrier on a free stool and unzipped the top. “Man, it’s hotter than a sauna out there. I sure hope the AC in my grandpa’s old Dodge makes it through the summer.”

  Ross was the founder of Fab Food on Wheels, a business he started just over a month ago for pickup and delivery of restaurant takeout. His clientele consisted mainly of senior citizens, most of whom were either unable or unwilling to order food online, let alone pay with a debit card. They preferred buying lunch the old-fashioned way—cash in hand.

  It was Ross’s maternal grandmother, Helen Quigley, who planted the seed in her grandson’s mind for his fledgling business. Since he was saving money to attend college in the fall, it was the ideal summer job.

  His business model was simple. Customers called him with their orders in the morning. Ross then placed his orders online to the restaurants he delivered for. He charged his customers a flat fee, and cash payments were a must. Delivery fees were based on the size of the order, but he often scored tips that were larger than the fee. Carly attributed that to the young man’s bubbly personality and efficient service.

  Grant Robinson, the eatery’s grill cook extraordinaire and an aspiring chef, set five takeout boxes on the counter. “You’re all set, Ross. There’s an extra bag with Mrs. Gray’s five pickles, just like you asked.”

  “Thanks.” Ross’s expression darkened, and his mouth curved into a frown. He began stacking the takeout boxes into his carrier. “I really wish she wouldn’t call me anymore. She’s like, so impossible to please, you know? That’s not polite to say, but she’s really a nightmare customer.”

  From the cooler, Carly fetched the drinks that went with Ross’s order and placed them in his carrier next to the takeout boxes. Since Mrs. Gray was also Carly’s customer, she refrained from commenting. She was curious, though, as to the reason Ross found her so difficult.

  “If there’s anything we can do to help, just let us know,” Carly told him. “We’re always glad to accommodate special requests.”

  “I know. You guys all rock.” With a parting smile, Ross lifted his carrier and headed for the door. “Gotta bounce!”

  “Such a great kid,” Suzanne Rivers commented, leaning across the counter to give three order slips to Grant. “If my Josh grows up to be half that polite, I’ll drop down and kiss the ground.”

  Suzanne was Carly’s part-time server, a thirtysomething who took orders and served customers at whirlwind speed. Their regular customers adored her—she knew every one of their kids’ and grandkids’ names, as well as those of their pets. Suzanne’s own son, Josh, was in middle school. According to Suzanne, he’d been having some growing pains and was going through a grumpy stage.

  “Aw, your Josh is terrific,” Carly reminded her. “Any time he’s been in here, he’s been an angel.” That was a slight exaggeration, but basically Josh was a good kid.

  “Angel?” Suzanne barked. “You haven’t seen his flip side—you know, the side where horns are sprouting from his head? Every night when I tell him it’s time to shut off his phone and go to bed, I get lip like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Maybe he needs you to cut him a little slack,” Carly suggested.

  “Says the woman who hasn’t had a kid yet,” Suzanne quipped. “You wait, your turn is coming.”

  I hope so, Carly thought.

  She stared through the eatery’s front window at the perfect June day. Across the main drag was the town green—a patch of land where visitors and locals alike stopped to relax, read, and recharge. Winding walkways and curved wooden benches graced the small area. Massive concrete flowerpots—maintained by town volunteers—overflowed with red geraniums, multicolored impatiens, and bright pink petunias.

  More than two years had passed since Carly lost her husband, Daniel. He was on a mission of mercy when his pickup, laden with wood, skidded on an icy road and tumbled down an embankment. They were living in northern Vermont at the time, but soon afterward Carly relocated to her beloved town of Balsam Dell in the southern part of the state. The grilled cheese restaurant she’d daydreamed of opening suddenly became a reality. She took over the lease of a failing ice cream parlor and made the space her own.

  It was during the renovation of her eatery when she met Ari Mitchell. A local electrician, Ari had installed the overhead lighting that reminded Carly of lamps hanging in an old barn. Her initial feelings for him terrified her. She’d been racked with guilt over her attraction to someone so soon after Daniel’s death. It didn’t take long for her to see Ari for the man he was. Caring and kind, he was also quite adorable with his dark curly hair and deep brown eyes, and a smile with enough wattage to outshine the sun.

  Her insides fluttered when she thought of how close they’d grown over the past year. More recently, Ari had made it known that he was ready for the ultimate commitment—the “M” word. Carly thought she was, too—except for that annoying Caution sign in a corner of her brain that occasionally popped up without warning.

  Carly’s near deadly encounters with killers didn’t help to soothe her apprehensions. That she’d aided the police in nabbing a few “bad guys” was only a slight consolation. She vowed to let the police handle all future murder investigations with no interference from her. Besides, how many more murders could happen in a quiet town like Balsam Dell?

  “You’re in la-la land.” Valerie Wells, Carly’s assistant manager, came up behind her and poked her in the side.

  “Oh! I didn’t hear you. Everything okay?” Moving past Valerie, Carly made a point of clearing dishes off a vacated table.

  “Everything’s great, but you looked far away there, girl. Daydreaming about Mr. Right?” she teased.

  Carly felt her cheeks flush. “No,” she fibbed. “Just thinking about how lucky we are to have Ross doing his delivery gig for the summer. It’s brought us a lot of extra business, especially at the lunch hour.”

  “Yeah, but who’s going to take over once he’s in college?” Valerie chewed one glossy lip.

  “A question that remains unanswered. For now, let’s enjoy the windfall.”

  Carly went behind the counter and deposited the dirty dishes in a large plastic tub. Valerie trailed behind her. “Hey, Carly, is it okay if I take my break around one fifteen? I’m bringing lunch over to Fred. We’re going to eat in his office.”

  “Lunch with the chief again, huh?” Carly cupped one ear theatrically and leaned closer to Valerie. “Wait. Are those . . . wedding bells I hear in the distance?”

  “Oh, you.” Valerie fussed with her brunette topknot—a nervous gesture Carly knew all too well. “You read too much into things.”

  Fred Holloway, Balsam Dell’s chief of police, had been widowed years earlier. When Valerie began working at the eatery about seven months before, she and the chief had been drawn to one another. It was a joy to watch their friendship bloom into an easy romance. Holloway was also a longtime friend of Carly’s family. His daughter, Anne, was the veterinarian for Carly’s sweet little dog—Havarti.

  The chief was also the person who threatened to toss Carly in a jail cell if she didn’t stop trying to solve murders. Carly never took him seriously, of course. It was only his way of spouting off steam because she’d placed herself in peril a few too many times.

  Thankfully, those days were behind her.

  After Valerie left for her lunch break, the eatery quieted down. At the small table in the kitchen, Carly enjoyed a salad, while Suzanne opted for a bowl of tomato soup and half of a Sweddar Weather—grilled cheddar and Swiss on artisan white bread.

  “You’re really on a salad kick these days, aren’t you?” Suzanne shoved a corner of her melty sandwich into her mouth.

  “I’m only trying to eat a bit healthier. Plus”—Carly patted her abdomen—“I’ve definitely put on a few pounds since I opened this place. And besides, Grant’s salad is delicious.”

  Suzanne nodded and swallowed. “That I agree with.”

  The eatery’s salad, a favorite side dish Grant had created, was a combo of field greens, dried cranberries, crumbled goat cheese, and sunflower seeds. He dressed it with a light blend of almond oil, balsamic vinegar, and delicate herbs that had customers begging for his recipe.

  Suzanne’s expression turned serious, and she softened her voice. “What are you going to do, Carly? Grant’ll be leaving for culinary school by the end of the summer.”

  Carly stabbed her fork into a clump of greens. Every time she thought of losing Grant, her stomach hardened into a knot. The young man had been with her from the beginning. His short dreads had grown longer, and his boyish features had transformed into a devastatingly handsome face. Most important, he’d supported her through the tough times, especially when local murders had threatened to consume her.

  “Carly?”

  “I know,” Carly finally responded. “By the end of July, I need to start interviewing. I’m honestly not sure where to start.”

  “You don’t think you should start sooner?” Suzanne said. “Where are you going to advertise?”

  “I don’t know.” Carly set down her fork and took a swig of her iced tea. “To tell you the truth, I’m so afraid of running this place without him that I wake up nights in a cold sweat.”

  The swinging door into the kitchen opened. Grant stood there for a few seconds. In one hand he held a plate with half a grilled cheddar sandwich. From his pained expression, Carly knew he’d heard at least part of their convo.

  “Grant, we—” she began to explain.

  He went over and set the sandwich on the table beside Carly, then quirked a smile. “Hey, listen, no worries, okay? You’ve been eating a lot of salad this week, so today I think some real comfort food is in order.”

  Carly grinned at him, the aroma of grilled butter and melted cheddar revving up her taste buds. She picked up the sandwich. “You’re a mind reader, you know that?” She bit off a corner and chewed slowly, savoring the sharp cheddar.

  “Listen, Carly,” Grant said, “it’s not going to be as hard as you think to replace me. I’ll help you interview if you’d like, but it’s going to end up being your choice. There’s a ton of competent cooks out there to choose from. Once you land on someone, I’ll be glad to do some training. You’ll find the right match, I promise.”

  Carly swallowed. “Thank you, Grant. I appreciate that more than I can say.”

  “Any time. Hey, as soon as you guys finish, I’ll take a quick break. And stop worrying, okay?”

  “Okay,” the women said in unison.

  But Carly knew deep down they were only paying him lip service.

  • • •

  Valerie left an hour early to catch a movie with the chief. After six, customers tended to trickle in, allowing Carly and Grant time to start closing up.

  The surprise of the day arrived in the form of a glum-looking Ross Baxter. He came into the eatery about ten minutes before its seven o’clock closing time, his usual bright smile absent.

  Grant was finishing up a few things in the kitchen while Carly tidied the grill area and put away the perishables in the fridge beneath the counter.

  “You look bummed,” Carly said, immediately sensing his mood.

  Ross shrugged and held out his arms. “I’m like, in a tough spot, Ms. Hale. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Of course. Come on, let’s sit. Want a cold drink?”

  “I wouldn’t mind a cherry soda.”

 

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