Read Two Scoops of Murder (Felicity Bell Book 2) for Free Online

was hard to imagine the inn without him.
    And now he was gone. Impossible. She made her way over to Virgil, who stood talking to some tea room patrons. He looked grim-faced and she wasn’t surprised. The first murder in Happy Bays in ages and he was probably one of the detectives tasked to solve it. Unless Chief Whitehouse would handle this one personally.
    “Hey, Virgil,” she said by way of greeting. “Such terrible news.”
    “It is,” he sighed. “What a sad, sad day.”
    “What happened?”
    He shook his head. “We have no idea. Billy found him. Stephen Conch’s kid? He was walking his dog Boomer when he heard a gunshot. Figured people were hunting in the woods again and decided to call it in. As he was waiting for a patrol car to arrive he decided to go on and see for himself. And that’s when Boomer started yapping like crazy. Found the body soon after. Face down on his own land. Shot through the heart. Must have died instantaneously, thank God.”
    Felicity’s reporter mind instantly fired up. “Tire tracks?”
    “Nope.” Virgil eyed her curiously. “Keen on joining the force, Fe?”
    She grinned. “No way. Just curious.”
    He nodded. “Chief Whitehouse said you should. Sign up, I mean. The way you handled that Falcone case, he says you’re a natural.”
    Felicity’s cheeks reddened. Chazz Falcone, her boyfriend’s father, had been trying to get his hands on his son’s laptop, and only through Felicity’s intervention had he finally seen the light and effected a reconciliation with his son. “Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to baking for now. And writing the occasional article for the Happy Bays Gazette.”
    Though reporting crime was a hobby of hers, she didn’t see it going anywhere beyond that. And she most definitely had no aspirations to join the police force.
    A tap on her shoulder had her gazing into Stephen Fossick’s face. Speak of the devil. The editor of the Gazette was an elderly man with a lined face and a shock of white hair. As a sufferer of stomachaches he appeared perpetually bad-tempered.
    “Fe, I’ve got something for you,” he barked.
    She glanced at the man, not understanding. “Pardon?”
    He gestured to Virgil, who now stood talking to Mom. “The murder. Wanna have a crack at it?”
    Her eyes widened. She’d been writing a weekly baking column for the Gazette for some time now and had recently written a couple of short articles as well. But writing a piece about an ongoing police investigation? “I—I don’t think I’m ready for a big piece like that, Stephen,” she admitted, though the surge of excitement rushing through her system told her otherwise.
    Stephen had noticed the same thing. “But you’re dying to try, right?”
    “I—I don’t have the experience. I mean…this could take days or weeks, right? And there would be follow-up articles and, and…” Her voice died away as Stephen’s smile spread to his gray eyes.
    “Okay, that’s settled then. Give me a thousand on the murder and we’ll discuss things as they progress.” He patted her shoulder. “You’ve got the makings of a great reporter, Fe. I’ve told you so before and now you’re going to prove it to yourself.”
    She blinked and stared at the man. “If you say so,” she replied lamely.
    He grinned. “I do say so. Now get cracking and start snooping around.”
    “Snooping around?”
    “Of course! What do you think reporters do? Snoop till you drop, kid, and don’t let me catch you snoozing on the job!”
    And with these words he turned on his heel and strode off. She’d wanted to ask why he didn’t tackle the job himself but he was already heading out the door. She figured his health was troubling him again. She had noticed the sallow tone of his skin was deepening and if the bags under his eyes were any indication he wasn’t getting a lot of sleep either.
    Then, standing at the center of all the hubbub of the tea room, she realized she’d just landed the biggest