Murder in the Mystery Suite (A Book Retreat Mystery) Read Online Free Page A

the walls to give her the creeps. Following her husband’s death and her acceptance of her great-aunt and -uncle’s offer to take over as resort manager, Jane had done much to lighten up the lodge’s dark, masculine décor. The house was markedly different from what it had been the day she’d shown up at Storyton Hall, newly widowed and pregnant. Aunt Octavia and Uncle Aloysius had welcomed her with open arms and immediately began grooming her to inherit Mr. Blake’s position. Mr. Blake had run the resort for thirty years and was ready to retire to Florida.
    “Fitz! Hem!” Jane called as she opened the door and stepped into the kitchen. She and the boys lived in the back half of the house. Mr. Sterling, the head chauffer, occupied the front half. He had the main entrance and the garages while the Steward family shared three bedrooms, two baths, a kitchen with breakfast nook, and a cozy living room with a fireplace, lots of bookshelves, and a window seat overlooking the orchard. Jane loved their house. Her favorite room in any home was the kitchen, and hers was large, sunlit, merry, and constantly filled with wildflowers, delicious aromas, and commotion.
    “We’re upstairs!” Hem yelled after such a long pause that Jane knew he and Fitz were up to no good. This was hardly a surprise, seeing as the twins spent most of their time getting into mischief.
    “I’m going into the village,” she said. “And it’s Saturday, which means I owe a certain pair of boys their allowance.”
    A resounding cheer arose from the top of the stairs and the boys barreled down, leaping from the fourth step from the bottom and landing with loud thuds on the hardwood floor. “Can we go to Geppetto’s?” Fitz asked, holding out a dirt-encrusted palm for his earnings.
    The twins’ hands had been spotless at teatime, but the boys were hopelessly attracted to all things muddy, sticky, gooey, slimy, and grime covered. Jane spent a small fortune on laundry detergent and stain-fighting products each week and had given up trying to keep her sons clean until it was time for baths and bed.
    “Yes, we can go to Geppetto’s. I also have to pop into La Grand Dame and pick up Aunt Octavia’s new dress.”
    The twins let out a unified groan. “Not clothes
again
!”
    “Oh, please.” Jane cuffed the closer boy lightly on the head. “You only have to go clothes shopping twice a year.”
    Fitz grimaced. “That’s two times too much. We should wear ours until we look like characters from
Robinson Crusoe
.”
    Jane glanced at his tattered army shorts and soiled T-shirt. “Mission complete. Come on, get your bikes.”
    The three of them took their bikes from the shed and started for the village. This was a regular outing for the family and one of Jane’s favorite pastimes. She never grew tired of the quiet country lane that wound its way through tree-covered hills, rolling cow pastures, and cornfields. The grassy shoulders were dotted with wildflowers and, just before they reached the little bridge straddling the Red Fox River, a chestnut pony would be waiting at the fence, hoping for an apple or a lump of sugar.
    The last bend was a sharp one, so Jane and the boys would squawk the horns affixed to their handlebars to alert other cyclists or motorists of their presence. Many a tourist had driven off the road at that curve, plunging into thickets of blackberry bushes and poison ivy if they were lucky or slamming into a tree if they weren’t. Dubbed Broken Arm Bend by the locals, that bit of road had the village’s only doctor stocking fiberglass for casts all year long.
    “Last one to the Cheshire Cat is a rotten egg!” Hem taunted and shot off like a loosed arrow.
    Fitz reacted to the challenge, pumping his thin legs—speckled with bruises and scrapes—as fast as he could.
    “That’s how boys should look,” Aunt Octavia would say. “Let them wear themselves to the bone during the day and, at night, fall asleep with a book and