TABLE OF CONTENTS

  COCONUT CRÈME KILLER

  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

  Coconut Crème Killer

  Book Two in the INNcredibly Sweet Series

  By

  Summer Prescott

  Copyright 2016 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.

  COCONUT CREAM

  KILLER

  Book One in the INNcredibly Sweet Series

  CHAPTER 1

  Petite, blonde owner of The Beach House Bed and Breakfast, and Cupcakes in Paradise, the bake shop right next door, Melissa Gladstone-Beckett, surveyed her latest tray of cupcakes with a nod of satisfaction. She’d worked hard to perfect a recipe that would be just right for the Spring season. Things in the sleepy beachside town of Calgon, Florida tended to slow down a bit as winter’s chill lifted from states further north. Tourists visited year round, but typically things didn’t get busy again until wedding season began in late May. Thankfully, their peaceful seaside city was under the radar with the Spring Break crowd.

  The slower pace gave Missy more time to experiment with new recipes for her cupcake shop, and to spruce things up at the Inn. She was particularly grateful for this brief respite, because she had not one, but two weddings to plan this year. Picking up one of the lovely cupcakes in front of her, she bit deeply into it, chewing slowly to analyze the flavors. The creative baker had developed a coconut cream cupcake that was sure to be a hit. She’d added coconut milk to the batter, and filled the snow-white and fluffy cake with thick, luscious, vanilla coconut pudding. There was a generous dollop of coconut cream cheese frosting on each, topped with shaved fresh coconut and drizzled with caramel.

  Pleased with what she was tasting, Missy closed her eyes and smiled, still chewing. If customers didn’t like the cloud-like cakes, she might just eat them all herself.

  “Well, my, my, that’s a happy face,” a teasing voice snapped Missy out of her coconut-induced bliss.

  Echo Willis, her flame-haired, free-spirited, former Californian friend was a few minutes early for their daily coffee and cupcake get-together. The women met several mornings a week, along with Echo’s fiancé, Phillip “Kel” Kellerman, a local, but world-renowned, artist, to drink coffee, test new cupcake flavors and catch each other up on local events, relationships and scandals. While Missy and Echo were relative newcomers to Calgon, Kel had been born and raised in the town, consequently knowing everyone. He made it a point to keep his finger on the pulse of the business and social scene, filling in the ladies on the latest gossip with a sober glee.

  “Oh my goodness, Echo,” Missy breathed, blinking her eyes slowly for emphasis. “You have to try these cupcakes. I made a new recipe, and I think that I could cheerfully live on nothing but them.”

  Echo chuckled, surveying the tray of delectable-looking cakes. “I can’t wait. Which ones are vegan?”

  “The ones with an almond on top,” her friend pointed. “Did you start the coffee before you came back here?”

  “Of course. It should be just about ready,” Echo replied, delicately using a one finger and her thumb to take both vegan and regular cupcakes from the tray and put them on a plate to bring to their favorite bistro table in the eating area of Cupcakes in Paradise.

  The friends sat down across the table from each other, and munched happily for a moment.

  “You weren’t kidding, these are fabulous,” Echo said, wiping a crumb from the corner of her mouth.

  “Told you,” Missy grinned. “Where’s Kel? Is he coming this morning?”

  “Nope, he’s at the gallery already. There’s a collector coming in from somewhere exotic to take a look, so he’ll be busy schmoozing today.”

  “Well, that’s definitely something that he’s good at. Hey, how’s business at the candle store?”

  Echo had recently opened an adorable little candle shop in a historic building downtown. The whole concept had come about because she’d wanted to invent candles that were scented like Missy’s cupcakes. Once the clever gal had learned how to dip, carve and shape the heavenly scented sculptures, she sold them at the cupcake shop and Inn. The sweet-smelling and pretty candles were such a huge hit with tourists and locals alike, that it wasn’t long before she’d saved enough to open up her charming shop.

  “Business is booming,” Echo’s face lit up. “Spencer helped me make up several batches last night because my stock was getting low. He’s such a sweetheart – it never ceases to amaze me that some pretty young thing hasn’t snapped him up yet.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think that Spencer is ready to be snapped up just yet,” Missy smiled fondly.

  Spencer Bengal was a young, handsome Marine veteran who served as handyman, driver, bartender and breakfast helper at the Inn, as well as filling in at the cupcake shop and candle store as needed. He’d become like a family member to Missy and her clever and dashing husband, Detective Chas Beckett. The extremely capable young man, who could fix seemingly anything, lived in a basement apartment at the Inn, and made himself available to Missy and Chas whenever they needed him. He was in perfect physical condition, muscular and strong, and with his long, raven hair, wide intelligent eyes and a scattering of tattoos, he turned the heads of ladies, both young and old, everywhere he went.

  “Who knows?” Echo shrugged, taking a careful sip of her piping hot coffee. “Maybe he just hasn’t met the right girl yet.”

  Echo and Spencer had become close friends, despite their age difference, she being in her early forties, and him being in his mid-twenties. She’d taught him how to dip and sculpt candles, and he helped her out at the store on occasion, if he wasn’t too busy at the Inn.

  The object of their conversation came in the door just then, and the women exchanged a knowing smile, with Echo stifling a giggle.

  “Hey,” the Marine grinned, showing dimples that stopped unmarried women in their tracks. “What did I miss?”

  “Apparently nothing yet,” Missy grinned, as Echo nearly spit out the sip of coffee she had just taken. “What’s a nice boy like you doing in a place like this?” she asked, as a means of seeing what he needed.

  “Maggie sent me over to let you know that your guest will be arriving soon. She thought that you might want to be there to meet her,” Spencer replied, eyeing the plate of cupcakes on the table.

  “Take some,” Missy waved her hand in the general direction of the cupcakes. “I think you’ll like them.”

  Maggie was the Innkeeper that Missy and Chas had retained when they bought the Inn several months before. The willowy, white-haired woman ran the Inn with grace and efficiency. It was standard procedure for her to send Spencer over to run the cupcake shop when new guests were arriving, freeing Missy up to greet them.

  “Just one guest?” Missy asked, gesturing for Spencer to sit, as he wolfed down his first cupcake.

  “Yeah, it’s kind of weird, actually. She only needs one room, but she rented out the entire Inn so that she would have some privacy,” the Marine replied, popping the last half of a cupcake into his mouth, and chewing it with great relish.

  Missy set down her coffee cup and stared at him for a moment.

  “Hmm…that is odd…why would she do that?”

  Spencer swallowed his giant bite, and gratefully accepted the mug of coffee that Echo had gotten up to get for him.

  “Thanks,” he gave her his signature grin. “From what Maggie told me, I think she’s famous or something, and really needs to rest and get away from the real world,” he shrugged.

  “Well, she came to the right place. It’s a relief to be edging into the slow season around here, finally. Do you know her name?”

  The Marine shook his head because his mouth was full, then swallowed and replied. “I didn’t ask.”

  “Okay then, you know the drill – I’ll go over and take her some cupcakes, and you hold down the fort until I get back,” she directed, pushing her chair back.

  Missy dearly loved it when Spencer manned the shop for her. His Marine training kicked in and he cleaned, organized and rearranged everything in sight, and it was always an improvement. She knew that, upon her return, the kitchen would be spotless, the tables, countertops and display cases would be gleaming, and fully stocked, and not one thing would be out of place, even if there was a massive rush of people who stopped in. Leaving her shop to Spencer was definitely placing it in good hands.

  CHAPTER 2

  “Hi Maggie,” Missy greeted the Innkeeper, who had just finished placing fresh flowers on the entry table in the foyer. “Is she here yet?”

  Maggie smiled and looked at her watch. “Not just yet, but I’m expecting her at any moment. There is something that I need to warn you about, though,” she said quietly.

  Missy’s eyes widened. “What is it?”

  “This guest has rented out the entire Inn because she’s introverted, and has been trying to get away from the hustle and bustle so that she can write, so she let me know that she’d not looking to socialize or be catered to, and that we shouldn’t be offended if we almost never see her,” the Innkeeper confided.

  “Write? Is she an author?”

  Maggie nodded and grinned. “Oh you could say that,” she said, practically bursting to reveal the news. “It’s Izzy Gillmore.”

  Missy’s mouth fell open in surprise. “THE Izzy Gillmore? The horror writer?”

  “Yep, that’s her,” the white-haired woman beamed, taking the platter of cupcakes that her boss had carried over.

  “I think I’ve read everything that she’s ever written,” Missy gasped. “I can’t believe she’s going to be staying here in our own little Inn. I just love her books and I have so many questions…” she began, but settled down with a sigh when she saw Maggie’s reproving look.

  “Which is exactly what she’s trying to get away from. Okay, I get it. I’ll try my best not to be star-struck, but thanks for the warning, I would’ve died on the spot if she had just walked in here and I wasn’t expecting her.”

  “I think I see a limo pulling up now,” Maggie peered over Missy’s shoulder, as the owner smoothed down her hair and took a deep breath, preparing to meet one of her literary heroes. “I’ll go out to greet her, and you stay in here and take a deep breath,” she teased, patting her boss’s arm.

  “Good idea,” Missy nodded, trying to slow her heartbeat.

  The soft-voiced, diminutive auburn-haired young woman was not at all what one would expect a horror writer to look like. She was perhaps a bit older than Spencer, and had a fresh, unassuming air about her that Missy found endearing. Izzy Gillmore had rocketed to fame with the release of her first book, and had turned out nothing but hits ever since. It was rumored that she almost never took time off, and wrote for long hours and sometimes days at a time, only taking breaks occasionally.

  “You must be Mrs. Beckett,” Izzy shook hands with Missy. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’ll try to be a good house guest,” she promised, her wide hazel eyes sparkling.

  “It’s good to meet you too. Please, make yourself at home. If there’s anything you need, ask anyone, or shoot us a text.”

  “I will, thank you,” she nodded, turning to follow Maggie on a tour of the 1860’s mansion that had been lovingly updated in a manner consistent with its history.

  “Maggie, should I send Spencer over to help with the luggage?” Missy looked meaningfully at the Innkeeper.

  “Actually, Miss Gillmore’s driver is bringing it in,” the Innkeeper replied, with a barely perceptible shrug.

  “Okay, then I’ll see you gals later. I’m going to head back to the shop,” Missy waved and headed for the door.

  “Pleasure meeting you,” Izzy called out on her way up the stairs.

  “You too,” Missy replied, still somewhat in awe of having one of her favorite writers sleeping under her own roof.

  **

  “You knew who was coming to the Inn all along, didn’t you?” Missy accused Spencer with a grin.

  As expected, the shop was spotless. The Marine had been in constant motion since Missy left, and not one thing was out of place.

  “I thought it would be a fun surprise for you,” he shrugged, flashing his killer dimples.

  “Well, fortunately Maggie clued me in so that I had some time to prepare myself. Have you ever read any of her books? She’s amazing, and she’s around your age.”

  “I’ve read all of them, actually. She’s one of my favorites too,” he confided.

  “Somehow I knew you were a bookworm,” Missy teased.

  “Guilty as charged, ma’am,” Spencer replied, untying the pastel striped apron that he had donned to protect his clothing while he overhauled the cupcake shop.

  “Thanks for taking over here,” Missy surveyed her gleaming surroundings. “Everything looks great, as usual,” she nodded, pleased.

  “No problem,” the Marine replied easily. “I’m going to head over to the Inn. I have an unruly lawn chaise that needs to be repaired,” he explained, heading for the door.

  CHAPTER 3

  Detective Chas Beckett always found the air-conditioned, velvet-draped interior of funeral homes to be somehow soothing, despite his line of work. He’d come to Memorial Mortuary today to try to convince the new owner, Timothy Eckels, to accept a position as Calgon’s newest Medical Examiner. The previous M.E. had been fired as a result of having tried to frame the socially awkward mortician for murder. Chas had mentioned the position to Tim immediately following the former M. E.’s arrest, but so far had not received an answer.

  The pasty, doughy mortician sat at his desk, reading articles on the internet about forensic procedures, and looked up, a bit startled, when the detective appeared in his office doorway. His assistant, an interesting young woman name Fiona, was on her lunch break, so Chas had slipped in unnoticed. Tim absently pushed his coke-bottle lensed glasses up his nose with a forefinger, and regarded the detective with mild curiosity.

  “Has there been an event?” he asked, sounding eerily hopeful.

  Chas smiled. The mortician was odd, to be sure, but he respected his work.

  “No. At least, not that I’m aware of, but the day is young,” he came into the office.

  Tim seemed disappointed by the news. “True,” he replied, blinking at the detective.

  “I actually dropped by to see if you’d given the Medical Examiner position any thought,” Chas said casually, easing into a club chair across the desk from Tim.

  “I have, but I still don’t know if I’d like to accept it,” the mortician answered honestly. “I just took over the mortuary, and Fiona isn’t completely trained yet…” he began.

  The detective nodded. “I understand, and I appreciate that you’ve agreed to be the interim M.E., but I’d really like you to seriously consider taking the position. I’ve never seen anyone as thorough as you when it comes to finding minute details on a corpse. It’s impressive.”

  When Tim merely stared at him, he spoke impulsively.

  “Look, you certainly don’t have to give me an answer now. Go ahead and chew on the idea a bit, take your time. I’d love for you to come over and have dinner with my wife Missy and I. Would you be available tomorrow night?” Chas invited, making a mental note to bring home flowers tonight to break the news to his darling wife that he’d made plans without talking to her first.

  “I…available? Umm…I…” Tim stammered.

  His introverted soul recoiled at the idea of a social occasion, and as he struggled, the crafty detective sealed the deal.

  “Great, we’ll expect you around seven. My wife is an amazing cook, you’ll love it. I’ll email you the address,” he said confidently, standing and sticking out his hand.

  Tim shook it, seeming stunned by the way he’d been effectively bulldozed. Since he couldn’t come up with a valid excuse, he resigned himself to his fate.

  “I’ll bring a pie,” he murmured, staring at the top of his desk.

  “Perfect. See you then,” Chas gave a jaunty wave and beat feet out of the mortician’s office before the timid little man could change his mind.

  **

  “Oh, what did you do?” Missy asked with a grin after kissing her husband and thanking him for the beautiful bouquet that he’d brought home.

  “What? Am I not allowed to make spontaneous gestures of appreciation to my beloved?” the detective asked, with over-the-top disappointment.

  “Yes, you absolutely are,” his wife crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “Now, what are you up to, Chas Beckett?” she raised an eyebrow at him.

 

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