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Home Fries and Alibis (An All-Day Breakfast Cafe Mystery)
by Lena Gregory
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About Home Fries and Alibis
When a belligerent woman moves in across the street, café owner Gia Morelli has to call off the welcome wagon and call in the homicide squad . . .
When a nasty new neighbor moves into their peaceful community, Gia and everyone else in the neighborhood is ready to blow a fuse. The spiteful woman has quickly made a nuisance of herself, complaining to and about everyone there. Then she makes the grave mistake of falsely claiming Gia’s dog tore up her yard, and Gia goes ballistic, telling the woman to back off . . . or else. It was an impulsive move for Gia, but someone else decides an even more extreme approach is called for, and silences the woman—permanently.
Unnerved by the thought of a murderer living in her neighborhood, Gia begins digging into the victim’s life to figure out who would have wanted her dead. She soon discovers that the woman was not only malicious but was blackmailing people in the community. Even more surprising is that nearly everyone in the neighborhood has something to hide. Dead-set on rooting out the culprit, Gia has to determine who stood to lose the most if their secret was revealed, unaware that she’s perilously close to losing her own life . . .
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Character Guest Post
Rural Living
By
Gia Morelli
Hi, and thank you for having me! I’m Gia Morelli, owner of the All-Day Breakfast Café located in beautiful, sunny Boggy Creek, Florida. Moving to Florida had been a spur of the moment decision for me. After a bitter divorce and my husband’s criminal trial, I just wanted to get out of New York City. So, I figured, with much prodding from my best friend, Savannah, what better place to live than in the small town where she’d grown up and currently lived?
I honestly don’t know what I would have done without Savannah’s help. While I was suffering through the end of my marriage and the trial, Savannah found and set up my café. The stunning pale-yellow, white trimmed, two-story building stood proudly on one corner. It fit in perfectly with the other shops along Main Street in the small, artsy, tourist town of Boggy Creek. Nestled a bit south of Central Florida’s Ocala National Forest, the town was known for its festivals, art and craft shows, and seasonal fairs. My breakfast café, situated in the historic, downtown building, was the perfect addition.
Since I was stuck in New York at the time, Savannah also found my new house. While I was thrilled with the café’s location, the Rolling Pines development where my new home was located came as a bit of a surprise. As it turned out, Savannah’s definition of rural differed greatly from my own. I suppose that’s to be expected, considering she grew up in a small town on the outskirts of a forest, and I lived my whole life in New York City. I’m not sure what I’d envisioned, maybe something like the small towns on Eastern Long Island? But a house on an acre of land in a development backed by somewhere around three-hundred-thousand acres of prehistoric-looking forest was not it.
Although, I have to admit, the three-bedroom, Spanish-style ranch with cream-colored stucco siding and a scalloped terracotta tile roof was irresistible. And I couldn’t believe it was all mine. The dog Savannah insisted I needed, a gorgeous Bernese Mountain dog I named Thor, helped ease some of the solitude.Still, there were a few things that took some getting used to.
A.K.A… Critters. Lots of them. In all shapes and sizes. Before moving to Florida, the extent of my knowledge and interaction with wildlife included pigeons in the park, cats in the alley behind the deli where I worked, and an occasional rat in the subway. The first time I saw black bear cubs frolicking in my backyard, I nearly fell over. They were adorable, until their mama showed up. And then there were the snakes—some of which were venomous (not poisonous, so I’ve been told. Repeatedly). And the alligators I sometimes come across while walking. I currently have a racoon, Rocky, making a home in the tree above my garbage pail. And I’ve even run across a couple of armadillos. Of course, I had to Google what they were, since I’d never seen anything like that before.
But for me, the scariest of all the creatures sharing my rural community—spiders! The bane of my existence. They have always terrified me. Even living in New York, the spiders gave me the heebie-jeebies, and they couldn’teven carry off a small dog like these things could. Good thing Thor weighs in at over a hundred pounds. Still, walking into a room, turning on the light,and finding a huntsman spider the size of my hand staring at me from a strategic position near the ceiling brings terror like no other.
All that said, rural living is still the perfect life for me.
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Excerpt -- Chapter One
“What’s the point in closing the café and taking a day off if we don’t do something fun?” With her elbows propped on Gia Morelli’s kitchen table and her chin resting in one hand, Savannah Mills Dumont ran the tip of one long, glitter-tipped, sky-blue nail around the rim of her Blondes Have More Fun coffee mug and pouted.
Thor, Gia’s Bernese mountain dog, dropped his massive head onto Savannah’s lap, rolled his soulful brown eyes toward Gia, and sulked.
“Oh, knock it off. Both of you.” Gia stood from where she sat between the two of them and crossed the terra-cotta tile to the counter. If she was going to deal with both her best friend and her traitorous dog moping at the crack of dawn, she was going to need more coffee. She filled her mug then held the pot up toward Savannah, who shook her head moodily. Ugh. She turned and leaned back against the countertop, inhaled deeply the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and took a sip.
It wasn’t like she had any specific plans for the day, other than to relax and enjoy twenty-four stress-free hours without punching a time clock, rushing around like there weren’t enough hours to fit in everything she had to get done (which there weren’t), and fielding complaints from cranky customers. She sighed. In all fairness, most of her customers weren’t cranky, just the select few who, despite their chronic complaints, still kept returning to the All-Day Breakfast Café. Perhaps negativity was just a hobby for them. Her gaze flicked back to Savannah and Thor.
Savannah fluttered long, thick lashes that framed big blue eyes Gia had no hope of saying no to. “Okay, fine. What is it the two of you want to do?”
Thor lifted his head and barked once.
Savannah perked right up, straightened in her chair, and offered a sly grin. “Whatever you’d like.”
“I’d like to go to the nursery for some flowers and plant a garden out front,” Gia reminded her.
“Oh, please, sugar.” Savannah waved her off with a flick of her hand. “You’ve been saying that for months, and you and I both know it’s not going to happen.”
“It might.” Especially if Savannah kept insisting it wouldn’t. Nothing like a little pessimism for motivation. Besides, she’d heard gardening was a great stress reliever. And, having lived most of her life in New York City, she’d never had the opportunity to give it a try.
“Uh-huh.” Lifting one perfectly sculpted brow, Savannah shifted her long blonde hair behind her shoulder, hooked an elbow over her chair back, and pinned Gia with a knowing look. “And what happens the first time you kneel down and find a snake in the weeds? Or a bear lumbers across the yard? Or Rocky Raccoon, apparently your newest pet, stops by for a visit?”
“Okay, that’s not fair.” It wasn’t her fault she hadn’t had the heart to get rid of the little varmint after the first time she’d paid a pretty penny to have someone catch him and release him elsewhere. Then, the following day, she’d found him leisurely hanging out on his favorite moss-covered oak branch above her garbage pails, staring at her with an amused look that said, Ha ha, sucker, I’m not that easy to get rid of. But the reminder had her second-guessing the idea of a garden . . . again. The chances of her planting and caring for a garden without running into some critter or another were slim to none.
Not that she didn’t adore her home in Rolling Pines, she did. The development on the outskirts of the Ocala National Forest in Central Florida was what Savannah had called rural when she’d first found the beautiful little Spanish-style ranch Gia now called home. But it was more like the center of some prehistoric forest—at least, it was to Gia, who’d spent most of her life surrounded by concrete and steel. Of the thousand or so one-acre lots the community boasted, only about half of them had been cleared and built on. That left a lot of swampy forest, home to an abundance of wildlife—bears, coyotes, armadillos, alligators, venomous snakes, huntsman spiders—and that was the end of that. A shiver tore through her. There was nothing Gia feared more than spiders.
Savannah grinned.
“Okay, okay, point made.” It was Gia’s turn to sulk.
“So . . .” Having won the argument, as usual, Savannah sipped her coffee. “What do you feel like doing? Now that I take it gardening is out?”
Gia pinned her with her harshest glare. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you no one likes a smart aleck?”
“Come to think of it . . .” She laughed, the sound musical in the small kitchen. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”
Gia couldn’t help but smile. Since there was nothing she wouldn’t do for Savannah, who’d been Gia’s rock through the most difficult time in her life, it looked like she’d have to suck it up and choose something her friend would enjoy. Which would probably involve an hour’s drive to one mall or another followed by the afternoon in a shoe store. Then, of course, they couldn’t leave Thor out, so the day would wind up with a hike along one of the many trails Gia had come to enjoy walking—when she didn’t come across a body, that is. Or a bear. Or an alligator. Was it too late to change her mind on this? One glance at Savannah and Thor assured her it was.
“All right, we’ll—” She was awarded a brief reprieve when the doorbell rang. Although she had no idea who’d be stopping by so early in the morning. She glanced down at her oversized sweats and tattered T-shirt. Oh, well. Nothing she could do about her attire, and answering the door would save her having to make any life-altering decisions. At least, for a few minutes. “I’ll just get that.”
With Thor on her heels, his long black tail tipped with white wagging furiously at the thought of company, she headed for the front of the house. She peered through the living room window and sighed. She’d have been better off taking her chances with a hike through a viper pit. Of course, not in the new shoes, which would certainly have ridiculously high heels if Savannah was helping her pick them out.
The bell rang a second time.
Then again, a hike through a swamp in stilettos had to beat dealing with Gladys Hoffmeier at six in the morning, or any other time, really. With one last sigh, Gia opened the door to her neighbor from across the street and one house over.
Thor backed quietly away and shifted to stand behind Gia.
Gladys, arms folded across her chest, tapped her foot with about as much patience as Rocky Raccoon on clean-out-the-fridge day. Despite the early hour, the woman was already decked out in a matronly dress, sensible shoes, and full makeup. Her tight red curls clung tenaciously to her head as if they didn’t dare droop out of place, despite the humidity. Before Gia could even say good morning or invite her inside, Gladys shifted her hands to her ample hips and glared. “That dog of yours was digging up my yard again.”
First of all, it’s not your yard. Gia clamped her teeth tightly together to cage the words inside. Since Gladys had come to live with her sister (half sister, Gia reminded herself) six months ago, she’d done nothing but complain and cause trouble in the previously serene community.
Savannah came up beside Gia and lay a hand on Thor’s head.
If Gia didn’t intervene quickly, the ensuing battle would end up getting out of hand and result in Captain Hunter Quinn, Gia’s fiancé, who also happened to be Savannah’s cousin, and Detective Leo Dumont, Savannah’s husband, being called. Again. It seemed Gladys Hoffmeier had the Boggy Creek Police Department number on speed dial, since they’d banned her from dialing 911 for anything other than a life-threatening emergency the last time they’d been summoned. “Good morning, Mrs. Hoff—”
“Ms. Hoffmeier. As I’ve told you several times now. I divorced my no-good, two-timing ex-husband six months ago, and I refuse to answer to Mrs. ever again.” She lifted her chin defiantly.
When Savannah opened her mouth, no doubt to suggest, as she had on several other occasions, that Gladys revert to using her maiden name, Gia reached out and discreetly pinched her arm.
“Ouch.” Savannah scrunched up her face, aimed an exaggerated scowl at her, and rubbed the sore spot.
So much for discretion.
“Right. Sorry. Ms. Hoffmeier. As I’ve told you before, Thor never leaves the house alone. He’s either in my fenced yard with me watching him, or he’s on a leash.” At least, he’d been leashed ever since the first time Ms. Hoffmeier had come pounding on Gia’s door and accused Thor of knocking over her garbage pails. Before that, he’d enjoy romping in the yard while Gia carried in groceries or did outdoor chores. Not that she’d ever let him out of her sight, even then, but at least he enjoyed some freedom.
“And, as I’ve told you, missy . . .” She lifted a finger, shook it a couple of inches from Gia’s nose. “There are no other dogs his size on the block. And the holes on my lawn are too big to have been dug by the Carsons’ chihuahua.”
“Ms. Hoffmeier—”
“I have every bit of damage he’s done documented right here.” She tapped the side of her head with one dagger-like, blood-red nail. “As well as a physical copy stashed away. Now, either you get that dog under control, or I will.”
Gia seethed, her patience precariously close to tipping over an edge there was no coming back from.
Thor growled low in his throat.
Savannah practically vibrated beside her.
Gia sucked in a deep breath, blew it out slowly, and reminded herself there was a right way and a wrong way to deal with people like Gladys Hoffmeier. She inhaled again. One, two, three—
Before she could get any further, Gladys harrumphed. “My half brother-in-law’s shotgun hangs right over the mantel, and the very next time—”
“Now, you listen to me, Gladys.” Gia’s fuse blew. She poked Gladys in the chest, knocking her back a step. “The next time you come to my home and make threats against my dog will be the last time. Do you understand me? I’ve been patient up until now, but you pushed it too far this time. If you ever threaten Thor again, you’ll be sorry you ever moved here.”
Her dyed orange brows shot up. “Is that a threat?”
“No, ma’am, that’s a promise.” With that, Gia took a step back into the foyer.
Gladys pressed a hand against her chest. “Well, I never—”
“Well, maybe you should, honey. It might do wonders for your temperament.” Savannah grinned wickedly and slammed the door in her face. “Grr. I’d sure like to cream that woman’s corn.”
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About Lena Gregory
Lena Gregory is the author of the Bay Island Psychic Mysteries, which take place on a small island between the north and south forks of Long Island, New York, the All-Day Breakfast Café Mysteries, which are set on the outskirts of Florida’s Ocala National Forest, the Mini-Meadows Mysteries, set in a community of tiny homes in Central Florida, and the Coffee & Cream Café Mysteries, which take place in a small town on the south shore of eastern Long Island, New York.
Lena grew up in a small town on the south shore of eastern Long Island, but she recently traded in cold, damp, gray winters for the warmth and sunshine of central Florida, where she now lives with her husband, three kids, son-in-law, and four dogs. Her hobbies include spending time with family, reading, and walking. Her love for writing developed when her youngest son was born and didn’t sleep through the night. She works full time as a writer and a freelance editor and is a member of Sisters in Crime.
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