Chapter One
With her hands covered in a healthy dose of liquid soap, Kate Clark jerked on the handle of the water faucet to turn it off and stared in disbelief at the kitchen sink drain as if it were a gaping black mouth. A quick glance at her bare ring finger sent her stomach plummeting. The black mouth had swallowed her diamond.
Kate groaned. She was sweaty and tired and her clothes were a dusty mess from rooting through her late aunt’s pantry. All she wanted was some jelly jars for the marmalades and jams she made, used, and sold in Kate’s Coffee Shop, a small bistro she co-owned with her best friend, Melanie Houston. The last thing she needed was to have a ring sitting in a filthy trap. That is, if it really was in the trap and not sailing away to the local sewage plant.
Bemoaning her stupidity, Kate rushed to the small bathroom on the first floor and quickly washed her hands. She hurried back to the kitchen and tied a dish towel around the faucet to remind her and others not to use the water. Through the open window overlooking the sink, she heard the rattling of glass and spied Melanie stashing boxes of jars in the trunk of her car.
Kate sighed. It had started as the perfect day with plans to poke around Aunt Fay’s house, gather the jars, and hunt for old treasures they could use to decorate the bistro. Later in the week, she planned to make strawberry jam to accompany the biscuits, rolls, and breads they sold along with their various hot and cold gourmet beverages. February was strawberry month. Already, luscious plump strawberries with their irresistible sweet smell and rich red color were heaped in baskets at farmer’s markets, flea markets, and fruit stands all over the state.
From her vantage point, Kate could see the vegetation in the yard greening and growing robustly. The weather in Little Heron Shores, Florida, had been exceptionally balmy for the past few weeks as a result of a frost-free spell. With the help of brisk winds, the palm trees had already shed most of their dried undergrowth. Live oaks exploded with multitudes of tiny budding green leaves as if nature had waved a magic wand and given them a new hairstyle. Even the birds, high in the pines, warbled a chorus of cheery notes in celebration of an early spring.
Her wandering reflections were interrupted as Melanie came through the door, swiping her hands on the side of her jeans to remove the dirt and dust from the pantry and jars. “Everything is loaded and ready to go. What’s next?”
“We have a problem, Houston.” Kate winced. “I washed my ring down the sink.”
Melanie’s mouth dropped open. “Your diamond? Your Aunt Fay must be rolling over in her grave. How did it happen?” She held up a hand, palm out. “No, I know how. It vanished just like the spoon, bracelet, and nail clippers disappeared into the garbage disposal in the coffee shop’s sink. Sailed off the drain board into the mysterious black hole down under?”
“No, this time it was different. It slipped off my finger when I put too much soap on my hands. Anyway, it’s a snap to recapture objects from the garbage disposal with a pair of tongs.”
“Yeah, genius, but only if you don’t run the disposal.” Blue eyes twinkling, Melanie chuckled and pulled her phone from her pocket. She punched in a number under her favorites. “I’ll call Foster’s Hardware and Plumbing. I can take a load of jars into town and put them in the shop’s dishwasher. You stay here and wait until someone comes to clean the trap.”
Kate felt the heat of embarrassment color her cheeks. This would be the second time this week they’d made a call to Foster’s Hardware and Plumbing. Earlier in the week, a bottle cap had wedged itself between the rotating blades in the coffee shop’s disposal, and it had taken a plumber two hours to retrieve it. Jim Foster, owner and friend, was either going to think she was a total klutz or he was grinning and cheering like a crazed Florida
With her hands covered in a healthy dose of liquid soap, Kate Clark jerked on the handle of the water faucet to turn it off and stared in disbelief at the kitchen sink drain as if it were a gaping black mouth. A quick glance at her bare ring finger sent her stomach plummeting. The black mouth had swallowed her diamond.
Kate groaned. She was sweaty and tired and her clothes were a dusty mess from rooting through her late aunt’s pantry. All she wanted was some jelly jars for the marmalades and jams she made, used, and sold in Kate’s Coffee Shop, a small bistro she co-owned with her best friend, Melanie Houston. The last thing she needed was to have a ring sitting in a filthy trap. That is, if it really was in the trap and not sailing away to the local sewage plant.
Bemoaning her stupidity, Kate rushed to the small bathroom on the first floor and quickly washed her hands. She hurried back to the kitchen and tied a dish towel around the faucet to remind her and others not to use the water. Through the open window overlooking the sink, she heard the rattling of glass and spied Melanie stashing boxes of jars in the trunk of her car.
Kate sighed. It had started as the perfect day with plans to poke around Aunt Fay’s house, gather the jars, and hunt for old treasures they could use to decorate the bistro. Later in the week, she planned to make strawberry jam to accompany the biscuits, rolls, and breads they sold along with their various hot and cold gourmet beverages. February was strawberry month. Already, luscious plump strawberries with their irresistible sweet smell and rich red color were heaped in baskets at farmer’s markets, flea markets, and fruit stands all over the state.
From her vantage point, Kate could see the vegetation in the yard greening and growing robustly. The weather in Little Heron Shores, Florida, had been exceptionally balmy for the past few weeks as a result of a frost-free spell. With the help of brisk winds, the palm trees had already shed most of their dried undergrowth. Live oaks exploded with multitudes of tiny budding green leaves as if nature had waved a magic wand and given them a new hairstyle. Even the birds, high in the pines, warbled a chorus of cheery notes in celebration of an early spring.
Her wandering reflections were interrupted as Melanie came through the door, swiping her hands on the side of her jeans to remove the dirt and dust from the pantry and jars. “Everything is loaded and ready to go. What’s next?”
“We have a problem, Houston.” Kate winced. “I washed my ring down the sink.”
Melanie’s mouth dropped open. “Your diamond? Your Aunt Fay must be rolling over in her grave. How did it happen?” She held up a hand, palm out. “No, I know how. It vanished just like the spoon, bracelet, and nail clippers disappeared into the garbage disposal in the coffee shop’s sink. Sailed off the drain board into the mysterious black hole down under?”
“No, this time it was different. It slipped off my finger when I put too much soap on my hands. Anyway, it’s a snap to recapture objects from the garbage disposal with a pair of tongs.”
“Yeah, genius, but only if you don’t run the disposal.” Blue eyes twinkling, Melanie chuckled and pulled her phone from her pocket. She punched in a number under her favorites. “I’ll call Foster’s Hardware and Plumbing. I can take a load of jars into town and put them in the shop’s dishwasher. You stay here and wait until someone comes to clean the trap.”
Kate felt the heat of embarrassment color her cheeks. This would be the second time this week they’d made a call to Foster’s Hardware and Plumbing. Earlier in the week, a bottle cap had wedged itself between the rotating blades in the coffee shop’s disposal, and it had taken a plumber two hours to retrieve it. Jim Foster, owner and friend, was either going to think she was a total klutz or he was grinning and cheering like a crazed Florida
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