Flames, Frames, & Murder

  Flames, Frames, & Murder

  Jenna St. James

  Copyright © 2019 by Jenna St. James.

  Published by Jenna St. James

  Cover Design by Jenna St. James

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced without the written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Jenna St. James Books

  Ryli Sinclair Mystery Series (cozy)

  Picture Perfect Murder Bachelorettes and Bodies

  Girls’ Night Out Murder Rings, Veils, and Murder

  Old-Fashioned Murder Next Stop Murder

  Bed, Breakfast & Murder Gold, Frankincense & a Merry Murder

  Veiled in Murder Heartache, Hustle, & Homicide

  Sullivan Sisters Mystery Series (cozy)

  Murder on the Vine Tea Leaves, Jealousy, & Murder

  Burning Hot Murder Flames, Frames, & Murder

  PrePEAR to Die

  Copper Cove Mystery Series (cozy)

  Seaside & Homicide

  A Witch in Time Series (paranormal)

  Time After Time

  Runaway Bride Time (novella)

  Toy Time Tragedy (novella

  A Trinity Falls Series (romantic comedy)

  Blazing Trouble

  Cougar Trouble

  Dedication

  On October 8, a massive fire swept through Santa Rosa, California. I will never forget my sister, on whom my Jax character is loosely based, calling me to tell me she was okay, but that they were being evacuated. While my sister faired okay in the end, my half-sister, Jade, did not. She lost her house in Fountaingrove. But she was just one of many who would lose their house, their business, and some even their lives. There was no way I could continue in the Sullivan Sisters timeline without tackling this emotional event. I hope I have done it justice.

  And as always, this book is dedicated to my Gramps, Frank Mills…WWII Navy Fireman First Class, a prolific homebuilder in the San Francisco Bay Area, and a loving family man. His love for the Duke, John Wayne, was unparalleled. Before he died, I had the privilege to stay three weeks with him. We spent the whole time watching John Wayne movies, eating Werther’s Originals, and sipping strong, black coffee while eating toast and runny eggs. He loved to sneak up behind me in his walker and honk the horn he’d attached…I’d jump a mile every time, and he’d laugh and laugh and laugh. I love and miss him daily.

  Chapter 1

  “Jaycee, are you sure you don’t want me to stay and help you close?” Mom asked as she untied the apron around her waist.

  I gave her a one-arm hug and turned her toward the front door of my bookstore and bar, Gone with the Whiskey, a business I co-owned with my Gramps.

  “I close this place down most nights alone.” Usually Gramps opened, and I closed. “And considering it’s slow for a Thursday night, I definitely don’t need you to stick around.” I winked so my next words wouldn’t sting. “Go home, Mom.”

  She sighed and picked up her purse from under the counter. “I just don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I never realized how quiet and lonely Traveler’s Bay could be.”

  Traveler’s Bay was located in Sonoma county and was situated amid redwood and sequoia trees, myriad wineries and spas, the Pacific Ocean, and the Russian River. The bulk of the town lay between Hwy 116 and Hwy 1, and meandered along the curved streets carved out of the tall hills.

  The truth was, I understood how Mom felt. I was experiencing my own numbing emotions. We should all be shouting for joy at the fact Gramps and Tillie weren’t going to be around for a while. Instead, you’d think by the way Jax, Mom, and I had been moping around the house this week, they were never coming back.

  But they were. They were just on their honeymoon.

  Gramps and Tillie had married last weekend and left the following morning. They hadn’t gone far, just one county over. They were staying at an Airbnb in Napa county for ten days while they visited the sights in St. Helena, Calistoga, and Napa.

  “Today’s the eighth,” I said. “They come back the twelfth, right?”

  Mom nodded. “Yes. And it’s already been the longest October of my life.”

  I threw back my head and laughed. “A tad bit dramatic, Mom, don’t you think?”

  She grinned sheepishly and shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “When’s Andrew coming up next?” I asked.

  Mom had been seeing Andrew Tipton, a former FBI agent in the violent crimes division and now best-selling mystery author, for a couple months. They’d met in high school years ago then were forced to split up thanks to a little muscled help from Gramps. Andrew currently lived in Petaluma, but every minute he wasn’t writing, he was here visiting Mom.

  “Saturday,” Mom said. “We’re thinking of going into Santa Rosa to a new restaurant.”

  A customer ambled over to the register and Mom rang up their total as I went and made sure the other three customers hanging out and reading in the chairs by the windows were doing okay on drinks.

  The front door opened and Sophia Brockman strolled through with my best friends, Heidi and Bridget. They all three waved and headed toward the bar.

  “You have customers,” Mom said. “I better stay.”

  “It’s Sophia, Heidi, and Bridget. They could pour their own drinks if they had to.” I gave her a little push. “Go. It’s almost five. Jax should be closing her bakery about now. You can pester her and Trevor.”

  “Fine. But I’ll be back in the morning to help you open and stay on for a while even after Randy gets here.”

  Our family friends, Randy and Darlene Adams, fill in at Gone with the Whiskey whenever we need extra help. Randy had been taking the afternoon shift while I opened and prepped and then came back later in the afternoon to work and close.

  Mom kissed my cheek, waved goodbye to everyone, and headed out the door. Sauntering over to where the three girls sat on their barstools, I pushed a napkin toward them.

  “What’re you guys doing out this late on a Thursday night?” I asked.

  Heidi laughed. “It’s five. Time to close down the gallery and have a drink.”

  Heidi and Bridget were not only artists, but they co-owned an art gallery around the corner from Gone with the Whiskey. The two cousins were a lot alike—both nearly six feet tall and both always up for a good time.

  “Sophia came in to deliver a stunning painting,” Bridget said. “So we’re buying her a drink.”

  Sophia nodded and the diamonds sitting on her ears sparkled under the bar’s lights. “And after the week I’ve had, I could use it.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Sophia was on the cusp of greatness, and we all knew it. When I first met her a couple years ago through Heidi and Bridget, she was already well known in the area as an amazing artist. At that time Sophia could sell her abstract paintings for up to five thousand dollars. A steep price for around here. But over the last year, her artwork had skyrocketed, and Heidi recently told me Sophia sold one of her paintings in San Francisco for twenty-five thousand.

  Sonoma Crossroads had written an article on Sophia a couple months back, showcasing her art studio and the beautiful and spacious home she shared with her wealthy husband, Dr. Victor Brockman. He not only owned the vineyard on their property, but he was also a well-respected dentist.

  “I just need Victor to come home,” Sophia said. “He’s been gone since Monday at a dental convention.”

  All three ordered the monthly special, Rum-Fire Delight. An apple cri
sp cake with spiced rum and cinnamon whiskey paired with a salted caramel apple martini. I loved having a sister who boozy baked…and so did my customers.

  I slid the special in front of them and they all three attacked it like crows on roadkill.

  “So it’s been a bad week?” I asked.

  Sophia swallowed then set her fork down. “Well, it hasn’t been all bad. I’m grateful for Wyatt Davidson, the landscaper I hired to redo the front and back yards.”

  “Who’s Wyatt Davidson?” I asked, “and why are you grateful for him?”

  Sophia smiled. “Meeting Wyatt was a godsend. I was standing in the garden aisle of a home improvement store in Santa Rosa a couple weeks ago, and we happened to bump into each other. We started talking about flowers, rocks, landscaping stuff. Next thing I knew, he’s giving me ideas and pointers. Come to find out, he’s a landscaper. So I asked for his business card and some references. He started this week, and already the front yard looks amazing.”

  “That’s good,” I said.

  “Now tell her about the bad,” Bridget said.

  Sophia sighed and took a sip of her drink. “On Monday morning I was rear-ended by Carl Baxton.”

  I gasped. I knew Carl. He was bad news. The kind of guy that was always in and out of prison for drugs, battery, theft. You name it, Carl had probably been arrested for it.

  “Were you hurt?” I asked.

  Sophia shook her head. “It didn’t even do a lot of damage, just dented our fenders.” She took a sip of her martini. “But I was scared. When it first happened, no one was around. I asked for his insurance information, and he refused to give it to me. He told me if I knew what was good for me I’d get in the car and drive away. When I told him again I wanted his information, he went back to his car and got out a crowbar!”

  “Omigosh!” I exclaimed. “Did you call and tell Mike?”

  Mike Connors, a detective for the Traveler’s Bay Police Department, had been my boyfriend for four months. We’d gone through a lot together—dead bodies, car accidents, daring rescues—and were pretty solid. The fact my family liked him almost as much as they liked me helped. Or in my Gramps’ case, I was afraid he liked Mike better than he liked me. They had this military bro-code going on or something.

  Sophia laughed softly. “Mike’s a detective. He has better things to do with his time. If anything, I should have called the police. But like I said, it wasn’t that bad. Luckily another vehicle came along and they stopped and made sure everything was okay, and finally Carl handed over the information.” She shrugged. “I didn’t think anything about it until yesterday afternoon when Carl came to my house looking for me.”

  My mouth dropped open. “What? He came looking for you? What did you do?”

  “I didn’t have to do anything,” Sophia said. “The minute Carl started getting enraged, Wyatt stopped working and just stood back and listened. Then when Carl made a move toward me, Wyatt ran up to the house and put a stop to it.”

  I frowned. “How did he do that? I mean, Carl is a scary guy.”

  Sophia chuckled. “Well, he had a shovel in his hand, so that helped put meaning behind his threats to Carl that he better get off my property and stay off.”

  I patted Sophia’s hand. “Wow. I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this without Victor home. When’s he due back?”

  Sophia blinked back tears and Heidi handed her a cocktail napkin. Sophia thanked her and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought I was all cried out.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I’d cry too if that happened to me.”

  Heidi wrinkled her nose. “Well, that’s not all.”

  “I’m really starting to get worried,” I said. “What else is going on?”

  Sophia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What’s going on is that I think Victor is having an affair.”

  I let out a quick bark of laughter. “I doubt it. Victor loves you. Dotes on you.”

  Sophia looked at the ceiling and blinked back more tears. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Bonnie Stable headed our way. Not wanting her to see Sophia upset, I quickly walked over to the cash register at the end of the bar to cash her out. After she left, I called out to the other two customers and then strolled back over to where Sophia sat with Heidi and Bridget.

  “Okay,” I said. “We should be good for a few more minutes. Now, why on earth would you think Victor was having an affair?”

  Sophia sighed, pulled up something on her cell phone, then handed it to me. “On Tuesday, I received a text message from someone stating that she was having an affair with Victor.”

  I quickly read the text. “My name’s Carmen Hollins. Your husband and I are in love. He wants to leave you but is afraid to ask for a divorce.” I frowned down at the phone. “Maybe it’s a prank. Just a random person trying to make trouble.”

  “Keep scrolling,” Sophia said.

  There were two images of someone who looked a lot like Victor having an intimate dinner with another woman. I groaned inwardly. This didn’t look good. “First off, someone else took this picture, and it’s a bad picture. You can’t even see if it’s really Victor. It’s just someone with his build and haircut.”

  “That’s what we told her,” Bridget said.

  “Have you talked to Victor?” I asked.

  Sophia nodded. “He claims he has no idea what I’m talking about and we’d discuss it more when he got home.”

  “When’s he supposed to be home?” I asked.

  “Sunday.” She emptied her glass and then pushed it away. “It was a week-long dental conference in Bakersfield. He goes every year. This year he presents his speech on Friday, then Saturday they do this big closing thing. He’s going to drive home Sunday morning.”

  “How do you think she got your cell number?” I asked.

  “I have no idea,” Sophia said.

  “Wait until he gets back,” I said. “I’m sure there’s been some sort of misunderstanding.”

  Heidi shook her head. “Doesn’t look that way.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  Sophia lifted her chin. “Because Carmen paid me a visit this morning.”

  I gasped. “At your house?”

  She nodded. “I was on my way to the library where I volunteer a couple hours a week. It was around nine. Wyatt was again working on the yard. He overheard a little of what Carmen said because we were standing on the front porch. But when I asked her to leave, and she refused, saying she and Victor—” Sophia broke off in a sob. “Sorry. Saying she and Victor were in love and wanted to be together, I just lost it. I shoved her, and she almost fell down the stairs.”

  “Do you know her?” I asked. “I mean, is she from around here, do you know?”

  Sophia’s face turned pink. “I’m not proud of this, but I admit I called Victor’s office and asked Margie, his receptionist, if Carmen was a patient.”

  “And what did Margie say?” I asked.

  “At first she didn’t want to tell me, but when I told her what was going on, she admitted that Carmen had been in last month for a cleaning. It was her first visit.”

  “I take it Wyatt helped remove her from your place?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Wyatt came over and told her she needed to go and not come back.” Sophia dabbed her eyes again. “I seriously don’t know how this week could get any worse.”

  Chapter 2

  “Jaycee, wake up!” Jax shook my shoulder. “Get up now!”

  I groaned and tried to roll back over. “It’s not morning yet.”

  “Jaycee, dang it, get up!” Jax exclaimed again.

  Something in her tone forced me into a sitting position. “What’s wrong? Is it Mom? Gramps?”

  “No, but it’s bad.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “You need to come downstairs,” Jax said. “Trevor’s on his way over.”

  My cell beeped with an incoming text message. I read it then frowned at Jax. “It’s from Mike. He said he’s on his way over,
too. What the heck is going on?”

  “C’mon, get up. Mom has coffee on.”

  “What time is it?” I grumbled.

  “Almost five.”

  “In the morning!” I exclaimed.

  I never saw five. Heck, I never saw six…and rarely seven. Not when I close down the bar most nights.

  Five minutes later, I was standing in the kitchen pouring a mug of coffee, listening to the wind howl outside. Mom was on the phone with Andrew and Jax was at the front door letting Mike and Trevor in. I still had no idea what was going on.

  Gramps’ bulldog, Duke, ambled into the kitchen and snorted, his jowls shaking and sagging. He let loose a huge yawn, and I totally empathized. Plopping down next to the table, he promptly fell asleep.

  Mom hung up when Mike, Trevor, and Jax walked into the kitchen. Mike was dressed in a suit, his badge clipped on his belt buckle where everyone could see.

  “What’s going on?” I demanded.

  “About one o’clock this morning, a fire that had been outside the city limits of Santa Rosa jumped Hwy 101 and went into the city,” Mike said without preamble. “The fire is out of control and is rapidly engulfing parts of Santa Rosa thanks in part to the horrible winds outside.”

  My hands flew to my mouth. “Do you know what parts are burning?”

  “Fountaingrove is hit the worst,” Mike said. “The fear is the winds will keep up and move into Coffey Park soon. We’ve been asked to go and help. Evacuations are still going on, plus eventually there will need to be a rotation system set in place so officers have a chance to patrol and then rest. Right now my workload is light, plus I came from the Santa Rosa PD, so the Chief is sending me and five others to help out.”

  Santa Rosa was a thirty-minute drive from Traveler’s Bay, and was one of the larger cities around us.

  “What about your mom and dad?” I asked.

  “I’ve already spoken to them,” he said. “They are just on alert, not being evacuated. Right now the fire isn’t near them.”