Weddings and Weapons, a Presley Thurman Cozy Mystery: First Chapter Friday
Chapter 1
Standing in my room, I surveyed the piles of clothes on my bed trying to narrow down what to pack. I was also trying to keep Bella, my English mastiff, off my clean clothes, since she was a shedding factory. I was horrible at packing. I inevitably packed too much, didn’t wear half of it, and then regretted it because I was stuck lugging an extra heavy suitcase around. How was a person to know in advance what they wanted to wear or what the weather was going to be like? You certainly couldn’t trust the weatherman; best job ever in my opinion, because no one expected them to be right. My outfit each day depended largely on my mood and I never knew in advance what my mood was going to be. The thought of wanting a certain look and not having it was way more stressful than packing too much. And if there was one thing I didn’t need in my life, it was more stress. The main reason I was packing to get out of town was to try to regroup and re-energize, and most importantly, de-stress.
I was exhausted. Completely and utterly exhausted, and I needed a break.
My name is Presley Thurman. I’m a thirty-something red-headed lover of food, wine, and lattes, which is why I’ll never be model thin, not that I care. I am also the owner of a high-end boutique in Chicago called Silk, which was the recent cause of my stress. I’d taken over Silk when it was failing, scared but confident at the prospect of being able to get it back to its former glory, and even more importantly; back to being a profitable business.
The road to that goal hadn’t been easy. For every step forward I took I found myself two, or even ten, steps back. At least, that’s what it seemed like. I’d already been working a crazy amount of hours when my best friend Katy, who was helping me get things off the ground, had to return home to finalize the sale of her hair salon that had been months in the making. Of course, it was absolutely the right thing to do, but it had left me without my right hand. I’d been working more than I’d ever thought possible to keep the store afloat. Don’t get me wrong; it was worth it. I loved my store, but I’d started to wonder how much longer I could keep up this pace without getting totally burned out, which was why I jumped at the chance to get away even though it probably wasn’t the optimal time to leave Silk. But then I wasn’t sure if there ever would be a good time. A friend had told me when I bought Silk that being a business owner was like having a baby, and he hadn’t been kidding. I thought, and worried, about the place constantly.
I’d recently hired a sales manager, freeing me up to take care of the business side of things and devote more time to keeping hot new merchandise in the store, the part that I loved most. I knew I needed to try and let go a little, delegating more to my team. It felt like it took forever finding them, but finally I had an awesome staff. Molly, my new sales manager, had already proven herself to me in the short month she’d been in my employ. She had a great work ethic and was smart. The customers loved her, the staff loved her, I loved her. She was a perfect fit for Silk. I was lucky to have found her. But as great as I thought she was, I still found it hard to let go. Silk was indeed my baby.
I zipped up my final suitcase and pulled it off the bed to stand upright on its wheels next to my other one, leaving a pile of unchosen clothes on the stuffed chair by my bed to deal with when I got back home. I knew I’d regret leaving a mess for when I got back but I didn’t care right now. I just wanted to be on my way.
* * *
I was up early the next morning, planning to leave Chicago at a time when traffic wouldn’t be crazy. Hopefully, the traffic in Milwaukee wasn’t too bad either so I wouldn’t have to spend hours in a car on a barely moving highway. There was nothing as frustrating as driving yet getting nowhere or having to use the bathroom when you were stuck in between exits.
Luck was with me and I hit Milwaukee at the perfect time, zipping right through the city, Bella hanging her head out the window, and it didn’t take long before I made it to my destination, pulling into the driveway of my home for the next ten days. Tires crunching on the gravel, I parked in front of the garage and shut the car off. Happy to get out and stretch my legs, I opened the back door and Bella bounded out and started exploring the yard while I stared at the beautiful house in front of me. I also kept an eye on Bella, although it wasn’t necessary. She was well trained, we had the doggy training certificates to prove it, and she never wandered far away from me.
This vacation on the coastline of Lake Michigan in Shiloh County was a gift from one of my customers, Sheryl, who owned the house and used it as a rental property. They’d had a last-minute cancelation and didn’t give refunds, so she’d offered me the place free for a week. I’d wanted to pay her something, but she refused, and I’d jumped at the chance to get away without blowing my budget. When I looked the house up online, I was shocked to learn that a week’s stay here was more than six months of payments on my condo. Even though I’d bought my condo at a steal, it still wasn’t cheap. This vacation would not be in my price range even if Silk was doing well. And I could see why. This place was gorgeous.
From the front walk I could see there was a huge deck off the back, with a hot tub, lounge chairs and tables, and it surrounded a large in-ground pool. The deck came around the house at an angle, and since it wasn’t directly behind the house, it gave the appearance of being much larger than it was. Stunning flowers were strategically planted all over and the colors were vibrant and amazing.
The exterior of this massive home was stone in all different shades of grey. I couldn’t even imagine how much it cost, but the effect was unbelievable. There were shades of grey I hadn’t even seen before. Who knew stone could be so pretty?
I walked up to the front door, Bella by my side, and dug around in my purse to find the keys Sheryl had given me. I unlocked the oversized wooden door and it swung open. The inside of the house, at least what I could see from the foyer, was as stunning as the outside.
Dark mahogany floors and matching wide crown moldings gave it such a warm, elegant feel. I loved the way dark wood looked. Even more so when it was weathered like this. It had that lived-in feel. The house had been built in the early 1900s and, from what the website said, it was still mostly original. To think of these floors being here for over a hundred years… It was hard to fathom. I walked down the hall, which opened to the biggest kitchen I’d ever seen. I wasn’t a big cook, but I was jealous of this kitchen. I could easily imagine parties with people hanging out, enjoying each other’s company, sipping on drinks and nibbling on food.
I don’t think I’d ever seen an island as big as the one I was looking at. It was a gorgeous slab of cream and silver granite that would have taken up every inch of space in my kitchen. The kitchen had obviously been updated in the last hundred years, since there were some things you just couldn’t live without. Like a microwave. Give me a bag of popcorn and I could call it dinner.
As my eyes roved around the kitchen, I spotted something that was possibly the best thing I’d ever seen. An espresso machine housed in a cabinet that had what looked like a regular wine rack built in but instead of wine, it was filled with flavored syrups. It was a coffee addict’s dream come true.
Then I noticed bottles of wine in a wine refrigerator that also seemed to be fully stocked, as I looked through the glass door. Coffee, wine, this place had my favorite things. I might not leave the house the whole time I was here. What would be the point? I had everything I ever wanted right here. Sheryl had mentioned I could help myself to any wine I wanted and I saw that the labels were in a different class than the ten dollars I usually spent on a bottle.
As much as I wanted to open one of the bottles and take a glass of wine down for a walk on the beach, I knew I needed to make myself bring everything in and unpack and get myself somewhat settled first. Then I could relax.
I made quick work of it—a walk on the beach was a great incentive—and thirty minutes later I was strolling down to the beach with a travel coffee mug full of wine and Bella. Walking about a half mile on the pebbled sand, I was quietly enjoying the sun and the sound of the water lapping at the shore. Later I ordered Chinese food to be delivered. I scarfed most of it down and put the leftovers in the fridge.
Stuffed and tired from the walk, I lay down for a quick nap, and woke to the sun setting. A perfect time for another walk, I thought, grabbing a light sweater in case it was chilly by the water.
I walked in silence, Bella walking a little ahead of me sniffing at driftwood, enjoying the beautiful night, when I spotted something off in the water just a few feet out where it was still shallow. It looked like it might be an interesting piece of driftwood.
Curious, I took a couple of steps towards it and got close enough to see what was floating in the water was not driftwood at all. I grabbed Bella right before she got wet. Shaking, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed 911 as I stared at the body of a man who was clearly beyond saving.
Thirty minutes later, I was leaning against a police cruiser, wrapped up in a blanket someone had handed me, with Bella plastered against me. The lights of the police car made her a little nervous, I thought. Despite the warm temperature of the air, and my sweater, I was still chilled to the bone.
The EMTs were now loading the body, which had been placed in a body bag, on a stretcher. They hadn’t even tried any heroic measures to revive him. He was way beyond that. I could figure that much out without being a doctor by the lifeless stare in his milky eyes and the unnatural pallor of his skin. I shivered a little, despite the blanket, thinking about what I’d seen. It would take a while to get that image out of my head.
I knew the police needed to talk to me. They’d said as much when they’d asked me to wait. I just wished they’d hurry. I wanted to go back to the house and crawl into bed and try to forget this happened. Start over tomorrow.
As if he’d heard my thoughts, one of the policemen walked over to me.
“I’m Sheriff Ted Travis. I’m really sorry you came upon this, but I was hoping to ask you a few questions while things are still fresh in your mind.”
He raised his eyebrows, cocking his head. Like I had a choice in the matter. I sighed. I shouldn’t be mad at him. I knew he had a job to do. “Sure.”
The sheriff pulled a notepad and pen from his pocket. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“Bella and I were walking on the beach and I spotted something in the water. I thought it was driftwood or something and I walked out close to the water to get a better look. That’s when I realized what it was and called 911.”
“Okay. Did you know the deceased?” His brow furrowed and, despite the circumstances, he seemed nice. Brown hair. A face that might be considered plain if it weren’t for his dark brown eyes, which seemed warm and inviting. Something told me he was a good listener and probably didn’t lack for female companionship.
I shook my head. “I’m not from here. Just here for the week, staying at that house over there,” I said and pointed. “I arrived earlier today from Chicago.”
He wrote something down before pausing to ask the next question.
“Had you ever seen him before?” His deep voice was very soothing. Perfect for someone in his profession. I was already starting to relax a little. Wonder if he used this calm manner to put suspects at ease and get them to confess.
“I just got here this afternoon and haven’t left the house except to walk on the beach.”
“So, you haven’t noticed anyone walking on the beach earlier today or anything that seemed out of place?”
“Like I said, I just got here this afternoon,” I repeated.
“Hmm. Okay.”
“Is he a local?” I asked.
Sheriff Travis frowned. “No,” he finally said. “He’s not from around here.”
“Was he murdered? Should I be worried? Am I in danger?”
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. We’re quiet around here most of the time. I’m sure this is an isolated incident.”
“Doesn’t that almost make it less safe if this is out of the norm?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t worry. Can I get your phone number in case something else comes up?” he said.
I gave him my number and he gave me his card and offered to drive me back to the house, but I declined. I thought the walk would do me good and I had Bella to protect me. In the short distance to the house, I jumped at every little sound, even though none of them seemed to faze Bella. Maybe I should have taken him up on his offer. I was much more rattled than I’d originally thought.
So much for a quiet, relaxing vacation. I’d been here less than twenty-four hours and already was off to a rocky start. I couldn’t get the image of the dead body out of my head. Nor the bullet hole I’d seen in the victim’s temple. This had been no accident. There was a murderer on the loose.
Happy reading,
Laina
