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Murder, Malice and Mischief
Murder, Malice and Mischief Read online
Murder, Malice, and Mischief
Lucy Quinn
Tonya Kappes
Agatha Ball
Jessa Archer
R.L. Syme
Daisy Robyns
Contents
Peril in Pensacola - Lucy Quinn
About this Book
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
About the Author
Also by Lucy Quinn
Who Shot the Serif? - Daisy Robyns
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
About the Author
A Murder at the Country Club - Jessa Archer
Copyright
About This Book
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
More from Jessa
About Jessa Archer
Stamped Out - Tonya Kappes
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
About the Author
Also by Tonya Kappes
The Secret of Seaside - Agatha Ball
About This Book
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
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Vangie Vale and the Murdered Macaron - R.L. Syme
Dedication
Untitled
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
Get the next Matchbaker Mystery Today!
The Murdered Macaron Recipe
Afterword
Acknowledgments
Peril in Pensacola - Lucy Quinn
Accidentally Undercover Mysteries - Book 1
Copyright © 2019 by Lucy Quinn
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by Lewellen Designs
Editing by Angie Ramey
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About this Book
Peril in Pensacola
Accidentally Undercover Mysteries - Book 1
Dora Winslow is having a hard day. Not only does she stumble upon a money laundering scheme, but the next thing she knows her boss is dead. As the prime suspect for his murder, she goes to Brian, a police officer she trusts. She soon learns things aren’t adding up because Brian’s got a mysterious scheme of his own.
With her best friend, Evie by her side, Dora is on the run. But before they can leave town to secure the evidence that could clear her name, she has to bring Brian down. With help from a hot chef, a friendly mailman, and a little white dog, Dora and Evie must balance the scales to save their bottom line.
Chapter 1
Dora Winslow crunched on a raw broccoli floret as she frowned at the spreadsheet before her. Landing a job as an accountant for Two to Mango, a popular Florida restaurant chain, was like a dream come true, especially when she discovered her office would be located on the top floor of the Asian fusion restaurant on the main strip of Pensacola Beach.
But the icing on the cake was that when she opened her window, the cool ocean breeze often wafted in, followed by the sound of the crashing waves on the powdery white sand of the beach. Although at the moment it was too hot for that, and she was enjoying the chill of the air-conditioning instead. What she hadn’t planned on was what having delicious food just two flights below her office would do to her waistline.
A carrot gave an unsatisfying snap as she bit it, and she wished she was eating the crisp, lightly-fried calamari with mango dipping sauce the restaurant was famous for. Her frown became a full-fledged scowl as she puzzled over why the Pensacola location’s marketing budget was more than ten times higher than the other restaurants in the c
hain.
The chain was owned by Steve Franklin, and his son Marco was the manager of the Pensacola location. Dora was used to Marco having more perks than the other managers. He was the kind of guy who led a flashy lifestyle and who didn’t like to take no for an answer. Fortunately for Dora, her hair was too brown and her figure too average to capture his attention, but it explained why his expense account was more lenient than his counterparts.
Even so, the nepotism didn’t explain Marco’s unusually large marketing budget, and Dora’s thoughts headed into criminal territory when she recalled an accounting conference session on how to spot money laundering in the service industry. It was what prompted her to want to dig further.
She considered sharing with her boss the troubling news about his son. Steve was a man whose ambition Dora respected. His success was an inspiring American-dream story of a boy who went from washing dishes to help his family get by to becoming a restaurant mogul in the state of Florida. But Steve also had a temper, and imagining how he would react to finding out his son was involved in something like a money laundering scheme broke her heart, and Dora wanted to be absolutely sure she had her facts straight before she did anything.
Her veggie plate scraped across her desk as she pushed it aside. What she needed was more information, and she knew how to get it. Marco’s office was two doors down, giving her easy access to his computer. Dora could smell the odor of onions cooking just like every late afternoon before Two to Mango opened for dinner, and she knew Marco would be down on the dining room floor for the next few hours, leaving her plenty of time to do some investigating.
Her practical ballet flats padded softly over the hallway carpeting as Dora made her way to Marco’s office and let herself in. The scent of his overbearing cologne lingered in the air, making her crinkle her nose as she seated herself in his chair and opened his laptop. The moment the screen lit up she sighed. His computer was password protected, but Dora was not one to give up easily. She tried a few combinations that came to her, like his birthday, his mother’s maiden name, and even his vanity license plate which read HOTSTUF. She was drawing a blank, but she knew someone who could probably spout off ideas until she lost her voice.
Dora grabbed her phone to call Evie, her polar opposite in so many ways, but also her lifelong best friend. Evie didn’t answer with hello, instead saying, “Calling me during office hours? Tell me you’re sampling drinks for the new menu, and I’ll be right there.”
Dora smiled at her friend’s eternal happiness. She was definitely Dora’s sun on the dark days, and she was thankful to have such a friend. “I wish, Evie.” She picked up a pen from Marco’s desk and rolled it between her fingers. “I need some help. Hypothetically, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Say someone wanted to figure out a password for a certain restaurant manager who drives a black BMW convertible.”
“You mean Marco?” Evie asked.
“Yes. A guy like him.”
“Start with boobs.”
“Boobs?” Dora asked skeptically, but her fingers were already moving on the keyboard.
“Trust me. It’s the only thing he sees,” Evie said, and Dora chuckled because her friend was right. Whenever Marco saw Evie, he’d home in on her sizeable breasts. Evie made a hmm sound, indicating she was thinking. “Try boobs, one. Or boobs one, two or—wait. How about boobs to mango? Boobs to touch?”
“My god, who are you, Evie?” Dora asked, amazed at her friend’s imagination. The keys were clicking with the flurry of Dora’s fast fingers as Evie continued to spit out password options. But nothing was working until Evie said, “Boobs for me using the number four.”
“Boobs4me,” Dora repeated as she typed. The password box disappeared. “I’m in!”
“Hypothetically,” Evie reminded her.
“Right,” Dora said as she brought up the list of Marco’s folders.
“I’m a hypothetical genius. You should probably bring me an order of crab cakes when you get out of work. I’m feeling the need for margarita Tuesday.”
Dora was only half listening as she noticed a series of files that began with the words Washing Machine. She corrected her friend, who didn’t always have a handle on life’s little details. “Evie, it’s Thursday.”
“Goodie! Only two days until my birthday. This is perfect. You can get snookered with me tonight to celebrate and tomorrow give casual Friday new meaning.”
Dora ignored her friend’s suggestion of showing up to work hungover the next day. Even if it was Evie’s milestone thirtieth birthday. She knew whatever they did for Evie would set the precedent for her thirtieth that would follow two months later. “Holy …” Dora’s jaw dropped when she clicked on the file named Washing Machine1 and discovered a ledger for a sleazy adult book store in town. One that showed a whole lot of cash coming in. Unless dildos had become as expensive as designer handbags and shoes, there was no way the business could be having the kind of volume she was seeing. “Evie, I’ve got to go.”
“Don’t forget my crab cakes!”
Dora didn’t bother to reply before she hung up. They both knew that not only would she show up for margarita Tuesday on a Thursday, she’d bring Evie her crab cakes too. She moved on to the next Washing Machine folder, not the least bit amused by Marco’s attempt at humor, to find he was also cooking the books at a strip club, an hourly rate motel, an alligator park, and a dive bar.
Her stomach rolled with her recently consumed crudité, and she pulled open a desk drawer in search of one of the flash drives bearing the restaurant logo that someone had ordered in bulk as swag a few years ago. Clicking the orange device into the laptop, she proceeded to download the Washing Machine folders onto it.
As she waited, she wondered how best to inform Steve of his son’s crimes. Family could be tricky, and she knew that Steve didn’t see Marco the way others did. He was proud of his son, and she’d need to be careful how she approached the sticky situation.
When the files finished downloading, Dora closed Marco’s laptop and left to go back to her office. She’d only taken a few steps before she heard the thudding steps of someone coming down the hallway behind her. She closed her fist tight around the thumb drive as her heart began to beat faster. There were three options as to who was behind her: Lindy, the older woman who was the executive assistant; Marco, who was busy in the restaurant; or Steve.
Dora scurried into her office and quickly sat at her desk just before Steve came in. She glanced up at him and tried her best to give him a casual, “Hey,” as if she’d been sitting there the whole time.
Not only did Steve not buy her attempt at appearing unfazed by his presence, but his eyes were narrowed as if he was more than concerned. “Were you just in Marco’s office?” he asked.
Dora felt her cheeks begin to heat with the shame of being chided. It wasn’t an emotion she’d ever felt with Steve, although she’d certainly seen his wrath demonstrated to careless restaurant staff or to Lindy when she’d made a mistake.
But Dora didn’t make mistakes. In fact, she’d been Steve’s darling since the first week she’d started work and waltzed into his office to present the man with significant new tax deductions she’d found.
Dora wasn’t sure why he would be annoyed with her for being in Marco’s office, but seeing his anger directed toward her for the first time shook Dora’s belief that she was invincible. He definitely wasn’t going to take it well when she told him about Marco’s schemes, and suddenly she was certain she needed hide what she’d done. She grabbed the open padded envelope sitting on her desk that she’d been preparing to send to Evie. Her friend loved getting packages, so Dora made it a point to send her one on her birthday every year to help make the day special. She slipped her hand into the bubble mailer, pretending to smooth out the tissue paper-wrapped scarf, and deposited the thumb drive as she mustered the calmest voice she could manage. “I was in Marco’s office,” she admitted to Steve.