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  Iced Over

  The Barks and Beans Cafe Mystery Series: Book 2

  Heather Day Gilbert

  Contents

  From the back cover

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  What to read next?

  Also by Heather Day Gilbert

  Copyright 2020 Heather Day Gilbert

  Cover Design by Elizabeth Mackey of Elizabeth Mackey Graphics

  Published by WoodHaven Press

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, posted on any website, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without written permission from the publisher, except for brief quotations in printed reviews and articles.

  Series: Gilbert, Heather Day. Barks & Beans Cafe Mystery; 2

  Subject: Detective and Mystery Stories; Coffeehouses—Fiction; Dogs—Fiction Genre: Mystery Fiction

  Author Information & Newsletter: http://www.heatherdaygilbert.com

  From the back cover

  Welcome to the Barks & Beans Cafe, a quaint place where folks pet shelter dogs while enjoying a cup of java...and where murder sometimes pays a visit.

  Black Friday turns fatal when an armored security truck hits an icy patch and runs over an embankment near the cafe. With one driver dead and the other in a coma, police are baffled by the discovery that $500,000 is missing from the truck's cache.

  When strangers show up at Barks & Beans asking nosy questions about a young cafe employee, Macy's mama bear instincts kick in. She can't ignore what her gut is telling her—that things aren't all they seem on the surface—and with a little help from her brother, Bo, and her Great Dane, Coal, Macy follows up on a few leads of her own. But if the ruthless thief beats her to the stash, the thin ice she's been skating on might just crack.

  Join siblings Macy and Bo Hatfield as they sniff out crimes in their hometown...with plenty of dogs along for the ride! The Barks & Beans Cafe cozy mystery series features a small town, an amateur sleuth, and no swearing or graphic scenes. Find all the books at heatherdaygilbert.com!

  The Barks & Beans Cafe series in order:

  Book 1: No Filter

  Book 2: Iced Over

  Book 3: Fair Trade

  Dedicated to my mother in law Jane Gilbert, who surprised us all by slipping home to heaven this year. You were a constant encouragement and friend to me. You'll never be forgotten.

  1

  If ever there were a perfect anchor for our Thanksgiving table, it was Great Aunt Athaleen's blue Carnival glass bowl. Cradling its weighty base, I carefully set it on the runner I'd smoothed out earlier. Thanksgiving this year would be so different with Auntie A gone, but I took a moment to be grateful my brother Boaz and I would be celebrating it here in the family home.

  The truth was, I owed Bo for talking me into moving back to our hometown in Lewisburg, West Virginia. He was the one who'd renovated the front of Auntie A's house into a cafe and invited me to live in the back half.

  He'd lured me in with dogs, of course. I ran the "Barks" half of the Barks & Beans Cafe, and Bo ran the cafe section. With my dog instincts and his coffee bean connections, it had turned out to be the perfect match. The cafe had only been open since September, but we'd already had to hire another employee just to keep up with business.

  My black Great Dane, Coal, shot me a polite and somewhat apologetic look from his pillow in the living room. The moment I'd started bustling around the table, he'd sat back on his haunches and made a rather Herculean effort to ignore me. His casual act didn't fool me. We both knew that if I took the time to set the table, food would show up soon—most likely arriving with Bo, who was the cook in the family.

  I'd surprised myself, though, by giving into a wild urge to replicate Auntie A's mashed potatoes for the Thanksgiving meal. After several failed attempts, I'd finally gotten my potatoes mashed to perfection, blended with just enough milk, salt and pepper, and butter. I had a bowl of potatoes sitting in the microwave, waiting for the guests to arrive, at which point I'd heat them and drown them in even more butter.

  To expand upon my mashed potato offering this Thanksgiving, I'd made yeast rolls and warmed a couple of cans of Auntie A's canned applesauce. The rolls were turning a lovely golden brown, and the house smelled of apples, cinnamon, and bread—a heady combination that seemed just right.

  Thankfully, Bo was handling the turkey, as well as the stuffing and gravy. Our pet shelter owner friend, Summer Adkins, was bringing a tossed salad and a couple of pies for dessert. Bo and I had agreed that we needed to invite a third party, simply because we'd celebrated the holiday for so many years with the two of us and Auntie A. We were used to cooking for three.

  Something thudded against my back door.

  "Let me in!" Bo's hands were likely too full to ring the doorbell, which was just as well since it tended to send Coal into a frenzy.

  "Coming!" I shot a look at Coal, who continued to feign indifference by focusing on a ladybug crawling on the wall. I couldn't help but chuckle. "Stay," I commanded, although he was well-trained enough that he didn't even need me to say it. He already knew it was Bo, and that no matter how big and intimidating my brother looked, he was not to bark at him.

  Coal instinctively got a fact some people failed to pick up on—you cross my brother, you cross me. And my loyal dog would rather roll over and die than to cross me.

  Bo looked spiffy in his plaid poplin shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He'd trimmed his red beard and smelled fresh, like he'd just showered. He handed me the long basket that held a couple of hot dishes, then returned to the car, presumably for the turkey roasting pan. I headed to the kitchen and deposited the basket on the counter, then opened the screen door for Bo.

  All this was done without the exchange of a single word. Sometimes I marveled at our strong sibling connection, although I knew ours was forged in steel the moment our parents had died. I was only two at the time, and Bo was six. Outside of Auntie A, who'd adopted us soon after, we were all we had left.

  "Something smells great," he said.

  I lapped up his uncommon praise for my cooking. "Thanks. And thanks for making the turkey. You're the only one who can get that right."

  A light voice carried into the house. "I don't know about that," Summer said, her tiered skirt flowing down to her shoes. "I make a pretty mean bird. Try me next year."

  Summer had recently abandoned her fling with purple hair and had gotten it dyed back to its natural dark honey blonde. Today she'd braided it, securing the braids in a double loop around her head.

  I took in her colorful blue and red skirt, white blouse, and perfectly pinned braids. "Anyone ever tell you that you look like a Swedish milkmaid?" I asked.

  Summer grinned. "Give me that rockin' apron so I can complete the effect."

  I glanced down at the red gingham ruffled apron tied around my waist. "Touché," I said, taking the giant wooden salad bowl from her and placing it on the table. Summer had finally loosened up around us, and we always had a fun time.

  "How's your kitty doing?" Summer asked Bo.

  A smile spread across Bo's face. Last month, Summer and I had surmised that since Bo
wasn't crazy about dogs, he might be a cat person, so we had contrived to introduce Bo to a foster kitten Summer needed to place. One day when Summer dropped the shelter dogs off at the cafe, she'd pulled the calico kitten from her pocket, and just as we'd suspected, Bo hadn't been able to resist the tiny kitten's purrs. Bo had named her Stormy because she was like a storm in a teacup. Wild as she was, Stormy was also adorable, right down to her long, soft hair and startlingly green eyes.

  "She's getting into trouble," he said. "I bought her two fancy cat towers, but where does she spend all her time? In an old box."

  "Typical cat," Summer said. She turned to me. "And how does she get along with your big brute of a dog? I wondered how a Dane would do with such a runt of a kitten."

  "Surprisingly well," I said. "He watches her every move, but if he tries to get close, she swipes at him and hisses."

  Bo chuckled. "That kitten has the personality of a mountain lion. I don't think she's afraid of anything." His cell phone rang, so he moseyed off down the hall to answer it. I hoped his ex-fiancée, Tara, wasn't checking in for the holiday. Bo had told me he wasn't hung up on her anymore, but I wasn't so sure.

  "Make yourself at home while I putter around with the last minute stuff," I told Summer, hoping Bo would carve the turkey soon. Everything else was nearly ready.

  She wandered around, finally picking up a photo album. She squealed with delight and pointed to a photo. "You two were adorable! Look at your fluffy hair—it's the same color as a fuzzy peach. And Bo's haircut!"

  Bo walked in. "Auntie A insisted on cutting it herself," he said. "I'll have you know those super short bangs were ahead of their time."

  "You would've fit right in with my Mennonite brothers," Summer said.

  "You have brothers?" I asked, astonished.

  She closed the photo album. "I do. Four of them. But I don't see them anymore. Not since I left."

  I set out the salad dressings. "Sisters, too?"

  Summer shook her head and walked my way. "Nope, like you, I was only blessed with brothers."

  Bo retrieved one of Auntie A's large yellow flowered china dishes and began carving the turkey onto it. "Hey, sis, I just got a call from Dylan. I hope you don't mind, but I asked if he wanted to drop in today. He said he's with his family right now, but he could stop in for dessert."

  I continued placing rolls in a basket. "Uh, sure."

  Dylan Butler was a local art gallery owner who'd helped Bo select artwork for the interior of Barks & Beans. I'd gone on a couple of dates with him, but I wasn't really ready to pursue a relationship with anyone yet, even though my divorce from Jake had been finalized earlier this year.

  The only reason our divorce had been finalized so quickly was because I'd been able to file in West Virginia. Thankfully, at the time we got married, I hadn't yet shifted my residency to South Carolina. If I'd had to divorce in South Carolina, I would still be married, since I'd have to wait for a full year of separation to play out before I could even file the divorce papers on that cheating toot.

  Yes, West Virginia had always treated me well.

  I had nothing against Dylan. We had a lot in common, since I'd minored in art history in college, so we always had good conversations. He could only add to our afternoon meal. "I'm glad you asked him," I said, motioning Bo and Summer over to the table.

  As they pulled out their chairs, I dropped a couple of doggie treats on the floor in front of Coal and washed my hands before settling at the table myself. Bo asked the blessing, getting a little choked up as he spoke of how Auntie A would be proud we were carrying on the tradition of a Hatfield holiday meal in her house.

  I tried to reel my thoughts in from drifting toward last Christmas, when I was still with Jake the Snake and Auntie A could no longer hide her late-stage ovarian cancer. It had been a horrible way to start a new year, and things had only slid downhill from there until I'd moved home this summer.

  I hoped and prayed we were coming up on one of the best years yet for Bo and me. I peeked around at Summer, Bo, and Coal, and knew that if nothing else, I was exactly where I was supposed to be right now. And that felt like enough.

  2

  Black Friday—which also happened to be my day off—started off with a bang. Not only did I sleep in until eleven, but I also devoured the last piece of Summer's caramel pecan pie as my decadent and utterly satisfying late breakfast. I dropped onto the couch in my soft PJs, only to jerk my head back as Coal tried to shove his massive face toward my own.

  "No treats," I said. "Get down."

  My muscular dog obeyed, but his upturned triangular ears didn't relax. They were perpetually on the alert because they'd been clipped as a puppy. Summer and I figured Coal was intended to be a show dog, but something must've fallen through since his previous owner, Gerard Fontaine, had never showed or even bred him. In fact, he'd had him neutered. The vet looked over the paperwork and concluded that Coal didn't have any genetic abnormalities, so she speculated his behavior might've changed and Gerard didn't feel he could handle him as a stud dog.

  I still wondered what was going through Gerard's head when he bought Coal as a puppy, but I'd never know. Gerard had been murdered not long ago, and while it was a brutal death, I was extremely grateful his dog had wound up going into the shelter, where Summer put a bug in my ear about him. Coal had never showed any behavioral issues with me.

  I didn't have to be at the cafe today because our new girl, Bristol Goddard, was working in the dog room today.

  Bristol was a sweet twenty-two year old who was perfectly comfy in her plus-sized frame, always wearing trendy outfits that fit her well. Her round face maintained a kind of innocence and transparency I was immediately drawn to in our interview, probably because Jake had taught me the hard way what duplicity looked like.

  Coal had snuggled in at my feet when I realized I'd nodded off watching a gardening show. My morning tea hadn't given me enough caffeine to function today. It was my own fault—I'd stayed up way too late enjoying the retro gaming system Dylan had brought over. Bo had also stayed up late, although around eleven he'd phased out of the gaming and launched into an intense conversation with Summer. By the time we'd called it a night, Dylan and I were hoarse from laughing at the sad game graphics and Summer and Bo were sitting on the couch, closer than I'd ever seen them.

  I'd call that a total win of a Thanksgiving.

  Glancing outside to see if I needed a coat, I was surprised to see a light layer of snow had fallen in the night. I opened the back door and felt a blast of cold air, so I quickly shut it and donned my hat, gloves, and scarf before taking Coal out. After he did his business in the enclosed back garden and I let him back in the house, I decided I'd rather walk to the cafe's front door than use the communicating door from my hallway into the coffee shop area. It was distracting for customers when the interior door suddenly opened, plus, I didn't like people peering into my section of the three-story house.

  As I stepped out the gate onto the sidewalk, my foot nearly slid out from under me. I managed to right myself before glancing down. My foot had pushed back the thin skiff of snow to reveal a layer of ice underneath.

  Although the roads had been treated, it would still be downright dangerous for all those Black Friday shoppers since the temperature was well below freezing. My own plan was to grab a strong coffee, then cybershop for all my Christmas deals, but I hoped the in-town shoppers would drop by the cafe for a quick warm-up.

  When I had nearly reached the cafe door, someone brushed past me on the front sidewalk, bumping into my arm. The person was wearing a scarf around their face and their gray coat hood was pulled low. I got the impression it was a teen girl, but couldn't be sure. I was about to say "Excuse you" when I realized maybe the kid was so bundled up she'd barely registered she'd touched me.

  Mildly irritated, I shoved open the cafe door, pausing to breathe in the scent of fresh-brewed coffee. We worked hard to make sure that was the first thing customers smelled. Having several dogs un
der the same roof could get stinky, but Summer had the shelter dogs bathed before they came to visit, and we had odor-eliminating devices in operation at all times.

  Glancing over to see who was working the coffee bar, I noticed one of the Stevens Security truck drivers standing behind the counter. He was very hard to miss. The wide-chested man was in uniform, with a large gun and keyring on his belt and a metal box in his hands. Bo extracted money from the register as the other employees skittered around him to fill the drink orders.

  Bristol gave me a wave from the dog area and I waved back, only to realize she wasn't even looking at me. The formidable security guard's face softened a little, and he moved his pinky finger at Bristol. They must know each other, but how, I wondered? He looked twice her age.

  I walked over and opened the gate to the doggie room, pleased to see that Bristol had all four dogs under control. The confident girl seemed to be a natural Alpha, so the shelter dogs respected her.

  Come to think of it, some part of me must be an Alpha since I also had a knack with dogs, but that certainly wouldn't be the term I'd use to describe myself. More like a blind pushover when it came to choosing men.

  "Things going okay?" I asked.

  She gathered her long, dark hair into an invisible ponytail before letting it spill back over her shoulders. "Yeah, Summer brought a really mellow group today."