Up On the Bookshop, the Body Fell (Messy Bookshop Mysteries Book 3)

Book summary

"Up On the Bookshop, the Body Fell" During her first holiday with boyfriend Leo in Sevier Oak, Tennessee, Garnet Stone attends an author signing to prove herself to Leo's disapproving grandfather. The event takes a dark turn when author Yasmin Starr disappears and is later found dead, with Leo as the prime suspect. Determined, Garnet embarks on a quest to uncover the true killer amidst a lengthy list of suspects.

Excerpt from Up On the Bookshop, the Body Fell (Messy Bookshop Mysteries Book 3)

No. No. No. This can’t be happening. Not now. Not tonight.

I was already running late, now this was going to push me further behind. For the hundredth time, I checked my smartwatch. Yep, I was late. I’m late, I’m late for an important date. No time to say hello, goodbye, I’m late, I’m late, I’m late.

The White Rabbit’s voice evaporated once Chuck Berry sang through Dessert Bar’s speaker. The peppy Christmas carol made me want to run, run Garnet, cause I’m reelin’ like a merry-go-round. I tapped my foot to the beat, but mostly to indicate my urgency to leave. I counted how many folks were ahead of me in line. Five. By the end of the song, Megan, my best friend, spotted me from behind the counter and nodded for me to wait at the end of the bar counter. Dessert Bar had closed at this hour. The remaining customers, including myself, were waiting for their paid orders.

As I stood at the end of the long counter, I stole peeks out the bay windows. Rain, rain, and more rain. It had downpoured for so long that certain roads were closed from flooding. Some main roads were mini rivers in the making. It felt more like April instead of December.

Rather than focusing on the time, I admired the restaurant. Megan and her mom had decked out Dessert Bar in Christmas décor. Normally large canvases hung on the walls portraying the restaurant’s famous desserts. During the holiday season, they replaced them with more festive sweets such as peppermint brownies, fruitcake, gingerbread cookies, cakes, and so-on. A slim tree stood near the pickup section. Homemade gingerbread ornaments hung on the branches in various Christmas shapes. Warm yellow lights lit the beautiful tree, matching perfectly with the teal-colored walls. From several feet away, the ornaments’ aroma wafted to where I stood. The welcoming holiday smells eased my pressing matter to get going.

There had been a steady flow of paid customers since I’d entered fifteen minutes ago. During the few seconds when the swinging doors opened, I saw the staff boxing desserts, cleaning, or taking orders for tomorrow. The closer it got to Christmas, the more requests came in.

I couldn’t resist any longer and checked my smartwatch again. The event started in less than an hour, and I had wanted to be at Voss-of-Books by now. Yasmin Starr, a well-known science fiction romance author, was doing a signing. Tonight was important. Voss-of-Books had to close some of their stores during the previous summer, and now they needed the publicity for those remaining. An up-and-coming author was their ticket to becoming a thriving business once again. Or so Drake Voss believed.

I was neither a co-worker at Voss-of-Books nor a fan of Yasmin Starr. Leo Voss was my boyfriend, the head manager at Voss-of-Books, and Drake’s beloved grandson. I was coming for moral support and to prove my self-worth to Leo’s overbearing grandpa with amazing cookies.

“Garnet,” Megan hollered as she walked through the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the front, carrying a bakery box. She set it on the counter. “Sorry, for the wait,” she said, a little out of breath. “It’s been one of those days.”

I understood. I’d worked in retail long enough to have experienced the hustle and bustle that only comes during this season.

“How are these?” Megan asked, looking through the box’s plastic top.

I followed her gaze. A hundred yellow star cookies stared back at me. It was a simple design and a play on Yasmin’s last name in addition to the author’s genre. Besides, no one could say no to sugar cookies, especially ones baked by Megan Graham.

“They’re perfect,” I said, feeling satisfied that these were going to be a hit and score myself some brownie points with Drake.

“I can give you extra Santa Claus and wreath cookies,” said Megan. “No charge.”

Her offer was tempting. “Thanks,” I replied, “but Christmas cookies won’t match the author’s style.”

“How about a special bag with your name on it?” She gave a wicked smirk.

“Deal.”

Megan darted into the kitchen and returned with a white bag. Inside revealed at least two dozen cookies.

“I can’t take this many,” I said, thinking I’d just gained four pounds, and I’ll add another four when I eat them.

“Oh, yes you can,” Megan insisted. “Give some of them to your brother. He has a sweet tooth like you, and as skinny as he is, he can afford some calories.”

I stacked the bag over the bakery box, told Megan thanks, and headed out the door. Icy rain replaced the warm holiday vibe. Carefully, I sprinted to my car and hopped in. The heat I’d cranked inside was long gone. East Tennessee hardly got snow, but when the weather got cold, it was bone chilling.

Flipping my visor down, I studied my appearance. My straightened platinum hair wasn’t in a tizzy and the waterproof mascara wasn’t streaking down my face. I looked good for being out in this weather. Feliz Navidad played after I turned the key and drove towards Voss-of-Books.

Sevier Oak was busier than normal. My hometown didn’t have big named corporations such as Costco, Best Buy, or Dunkin’ Donuts. Small business owners flourished in this quiet town. They lured out-of-towners with unique and homemade gifts. The forest scenery alone attracted folks here, even if they didn’t intend to buy.

While driving down Copper Street, I marveled at the town’s seasonal decorations. Lit-up snowflakes hung from the sides of telephone poles. White lights wrapped around bare American Elm trees that dotted the street. One could feel the Christmas season without snow, yet I preferred it over rain. The next song played on the radio. Silent Night sang through my speakers as I cruised the twenty-five mile speed limit. The soft melody brought a sense of calmness. A perfect song before a big storm, I thought. Suddenly, tonight’s event made me nervous, and it had nothing to do with meeting an author.

What if Yasmin is a health freak and hates cookies? Drake will hold it against me, reminding Leo how useless of a girlfriend I am. What if Drake asks if I’ve read her books?

I reached into the cookie bag and pulled out a Santa Claus treat. I bit into the savoring flavor, allowing myself to moan in delight. No one in their right mind could say no to my best friend’s cookies. After scarfing it in three bites, I seized another.

A few minutes and two Santa Clauses later, I pulled into the Voss-of-Books’s parking lot. A wide banner displayed under the store’s name. The massive words loomed before me, saying Yasmin Starr along with the date and time.

The time forced me to get moving. A part of me didn’t want to get wet again, and another part (a huge part) didn’t want to go inside. I hadn’t been in Voss-of-Books since last summer. Not because I disliked reading; I loved books and worked at a used bookstore, Bind Me Again. My reluctance was caused by Drake Voss. He had a business mindset and once tried to use bullying tactics to acquire Bind Me Again. His plan failed, and a rift formed between us. Since I started dating Leo, our schism has only grown. Hopefully Yasmin would love Megan’s famous sugar cookies and gain me some favor. Voss-of-Books and Bind Me Again didn’t need to be rivals. Leo agreed with me, but convincing Drake was another story.

Just as I was about to open the door, something yellow caught my attention. I focused harder and leaned as far forward as the steering wheel permitted. Two people were talking next to a silver jeep. A man in a dark jacket had his back to me. He stood slightly under the woman’s lemon colored umbrella. Their body language suggested they were having a serious conversation.

“Stop stalling,” I scolded myself, feeling the seconds tick by. Early birds were arriving, and I wouldn’t be able to show off these cookies.

I popped a wreath-shaped cookie in my mouth, pulled my hood over my head, and climbed out while carrying the bakery box. Bitter rain pounded on me as I darted across the lot.

“Done,” the woman shouted. “I’m done with you! I’m sooo done with you.”

I glanced up, shielding my eyes with one hand to see better. The guy was speaking, but the rain disabled me from hearing.

“No.” She raised her voice and stepped away from him.

I paused, pretending to readjust the box while making sure the guy wasn’t bothering her. He was now exposed in the precipitation. His arms moved either in a praying motion, or he was reaching for her. I couldn’t tell. The light pole exposed more of the woman as she stepped back. She had long, wavy hair draped over one shoulder and wore gray knee-high boots and an ivory sweater dress. I recognized her from the flyers. Yasmin Starr.

“We’re done,” Yasmin said tightly. “Just do your job and move on.”

Was this guy her assistant? If so, breaking up with the boss was asking for work drama. One that I was glad I didn’t endure.

Yasmin turned and walked toward the bookstore. She paused and reached into her dress pocket. A moment later, she pressed a phone to her ear and stood in place. While she answered, the guy trotted to a pickup truck. The opening flap of his jacket revealed his T-shirt. I knew that font and what it said without seeing the entirety. All employees at Voss-of-Books wore a shirt saying “Go Get Voss-of-Books.” Clever on the name, yet I found the saying cheesy.

I continued on, passing Yasmin as she shouted at whoever was on the line. She sounded like an author-zilla. In the corner of my eye, vaping smoke puffed from the guy’s truck window.

Warm and dry air greeted me when I got inside Voss-of-Books. Last time I was here, the walls were painted white, giving the store a dull and plain atmosphere. Life and personality emerged after September’s rearrangement of the place. Dark laminate floors replaced the white linoleum with gray specks. The walls were a cream color and the stained bookshelves added to the elegant presence. Off to the right was the café. The new light fixtures were black cast iron, giving patrons plenty of light. Overall, the vibe spoke of simple elegance. Drake had done more than move bookshelves around. I secretly admitted the layout looked fancy.

Some folks had arrived promptly and were roaming aimlessly. The White Rabbit’s voice exclaimed in my head, I’m late, I’m late, I’m late. With no time to waste, I made my way towards the back. As I did, I admired the decorations. In the center of the bookstore nestled a tall pencil shaped Christmas tree. It was magnificent. I had to admire it. Flocked snow was laid on thick, as if a blizzard stormed through and kissed all the pine needles. All the ornaments were furry forest animals. A cream-colored ribbon read Joy to the World gave the tree its finishing touches of a winter wonderland. Now I really longed for snow.

“Where is she?” Drake’s voice bellowed just as I walked through the threshold of the employee’s area. I froze, debating if I should turn back and set up the cookies myself or eavesdrop. In the end, listening to another person’s conversation won out. “She was supposed to be greeting her fans.” Drake’s German accent came out thick and strong, as it always did when he was upset.