Hearth Fire - Hearth & Cauldron Mysteries, Book 4 (PAPERBACK)
Hearth Fire - Hearth & Cauldron Mysteries, Book 4 (PAPERBACK)
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As Whispering Pines’ busiest tourist season ever draws to a close, Reeva Long, Ruby McLaughlin, and the other villagers are ready for things to quiet down.
Instead, a break-in and a small fire set near Hearth & Cauldron puts everyone on edge. The only clue, a melted candle stub, gives the amateur sleuths little to work with.
Soon other fires flare up, threatening the entire village, so Deputy Jayne O’Shea takes charge of the investigation. Can Jayne, with Reeva’s and Ruby’s help, catch the firestarter before someone gets hurt or worse?
If you like your witchy mysteries on the cozy side with plenty of quirky characters, and a dash of paranormal, you’ll love the Hearth & Cauldron Mysteries series.
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Chapter 1
“Just give it a good shove,” Keiko Shen suggested.
“I don’t want to break anything.” Sighing hard, I stood back and peeled my shirt away from my back. I’d worked up a sweat. “That’s it, I’m calling it. We can only fit one more thing.”
I reached for the pair of accent lamps I’d found at an estate sale a couple of years ago. They sported crackled amber glass cylinders instead of traditional shades and cast an orangey glow that would be the perfect addition to a seasonal display. And they made me smile every time I looked at them.
“The color is perfect for this time of year,” I insisted. “Labor Day weekend starts in two days, and shoppers are thinking fall.”
My shop assistant and boarder held up a set of antique candle molds she was sure would sell in a heartbeat. Tapers and votives made from these tin molds would have a slightly rustic appearance, and although I agreed they probably would sell quickly, so would the lamps. The problem was the cargo area of my SUV was packed so full there was only room for one or the other.
Voices coming from somewhere nearby stalled our debate. We walked around to the back of my storage locker and found a man, a woman, and a small white dog gathered near another unit.
Keiko pointed. “Isn’t that—”
“Yes.”
Instead of a single larger building providing storage for the people of Whispering Pines, Wisconsin, small ones scattered throughout the woods were more in keeping with the village’s aesthetic. All the units looked like small log cabins and were placed eight to ten feet apart. This one that Deputy Jayne O’Shea and Mr. Powell were standing near was different, however. It was a simple, steel shipping container that held my sister’s belongings and was set twenty feet away from the next closest locker.
“What’s going on?” I called out as we closed the distance.
“We’ve got a bit of a problem,” Jayne answered. “Guess that’s obvious. Why would I be here otherwise?”
Mr. Powell spun to face me, got his feet twisted together, and ended up in a heap on the ground. The owner/operator of The Busted Knuckle, the jack-of-all-trades village services business that kept Whispering Pines operating seamlessly, was the most accident-prone person I’d ever met.
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