Queer and Cozy Mysteries E-Book

J.J. Brass

• Herausgeber: Rainbow Crush
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Looking for the perfect cozy mystery to read tonight? In Queer and Cozy Mysteries, you’ll be treated to THREE tales of blackmail and murder featuring amusing incidents, hilarious dialogue and LGBT characters! In MURDER AT THE OFFICE, Sharon and her teenage daughter haven’t been on the best of terms since the divorce. When Kate shows up at the office, the only thing that could surprise Sharon more is finding the boss strangled to death! Can mother and daughter put their squabbles aside long enough to solve a murder? Or will the killer strike again… closer to home? When the inimitable Miss Agatha Vanderjagt receives a blackmail letter alongside copies of scandalous photographs from her youth, trans guy Chris is the only person she can turn to for help. Will Chris and Agatha be able to figure out who’s extorting the elderly woman… or will a dangerous blackmailer find them first? Find out today in SMALL TOWN SCANDAL! In THE TURKEY WORE SATIN, Thanksgiving at Mayfair Manor is an elegant affair: polished silver, sparkling crystal, not to mention the Amazing Annual Mayfair Family Drag Show!  But when the perennial winner drops dead before the performance, can the newest member of the Mayfair family prove it was murder… and figure out whodunit? Three tales perfectly suited to any reader looking for cozy mysteries where queer characters take centre stage!

Leseprobe

Queer and Cozy Mysteries

© 2017 by J.J. Brass

All rights reserved.

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

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

Cover design © 2017

First Edition 2017

Queer and Cozy Mysteries

3 LGBT Mystery Stories

By J.J. Brass

Table of Contents

Murder at the Office

Small Town Scandal

The Turkey Wore Satin

Murder at the Office

A Mother Daughter Mystery

Chapter One

When the call came in from reception, Sharon growled unapologetically. Swiping the phone from its cradle, she asked, “Rosa, what’s up?”

“You’ve got a visitor!” Rosa replied with a giggle.

Must be Nora surprising her with an indulgent afternoon snack from the froufrou cupcake bakery downstairs.

“Send her in,” Sharon said. “She knows the way.”

“Aren’t you even going to ask who it is?”

Sharon sighed. “Fine. Who is it, Rosa?”

The receptionist squealed into the phone before shouting, “It’s Kate!”

Sharon’s heart just about jumped out through her mouth. Kate? Couldn’t be. Kate didn’t even return her phone calls these days. That girl would never show up at the office unannounced.

Unless there was some sort of emergency.

Or maybe it was some other Kate Sharon’s mind had misplaced. A client perhaps?

Sharon asked Rosa, “Katewho?”

“Katewho!?” Rosa howled. “Your daughter Kate, of course! Lady, you’ve been working too hard.”

Goodness, it reallywasKate.

Excitement and apprehension wrapped their fingers around Sharon’s heart as she said, “Tell her to wait. I’ll be right out.”

No time to check her teeth for spinach or make sure her hair was relatively tame. She wouldn’t have worn such a frumpy outfit if she’d known she’d be seeing her daughter today. Oh well. Nothing she could do about it now. She popped out of her boxy little office and walk-ran through the labyrinthine hallways. She worried that if she took too long getting to reception her daughter might give up on her and jet.

Sharon took a brief moment to compose herself before stepping through the glass double-doors and into the finely-appointed reception area.

“There she is!” Rosa sang, as though Sharon’s daughter were Miss America.

Fat chance of that ever happening. Just look at the girl: blonde hair dyed pink and twisted into dreadlocks. Sharon couldn’t help but cringe internally. She pictured her daughter as a child: expressive eyes, sweet spirit, kind demeanor. What ever happened to that version of Kate?

Trying not to let her feelings show, Sharon wrapped her arms around her teen daughter. “Katie, honey, it’s so good to see you! Is everything okay?”

“Mom!” Kate growled, struggling out of Sharon’s hug. “Get your hands off me.”

“I’m sorry,” Sharon apologized, still clutching her daughter’s shoulder. “I’m just so happy you’re here. It isn’t an emergency, is it?”

“No emergency.”

“Your dad’s okay?”

“Dad’s fine, Mom.”

“You didn’t have a fight or anything?”

“No, Mom. We never fight.Himand me are nothing likeyouand me.”

Those words were a dagger to Sharon’s heart. Kate had always been Daddy’s Little Girl, but ever more so since Kate had developed her current sense of personal rebellion. It sometimes seemed she and Kate couldn’t be in the same room for more than five minutes without Sharon nagging the girl and Kate screaming obscenities. Living apart ripped at Sharon’s heartstrings daily, but she knew it was for the best.

“What brings you downtown?” Sharon asked. “Did you want to go out for lunch?

“Lunch?” Kate scoffed. “It’s almost 4:30.”

Sharon glanced at her watch. “So it is. Did you want to go out for a bite once I’m done for the day? Get a coffee? See a movie?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “You mean you don’t have plans with Nora?”

“Not tonight,” Sharon said matter-of-factly. “Nora has her sign language class on Thursdays.”

“Okay, well here’s the thing…” Kate unzipped her backpack, which she’d doodled unrepentantly upon with permanent marker—and which was now sitting on one of reception’s white leather chairs.

Right on cue the elevator dinged and who should emerge but the big boss Min and her favourite client Gwilym: a handsome younger man dressed in dark jeans and a neat jacket. He smelled like money and looked like a model. Even Kate’s jaw dropped as he entered the reception area next to Min, whose outfit was equally chic: a gold-toned sleeveless silk blouse with ruffles down the front, red skirt cut to the knee but so fitted it left little to the imagination. Her black hair was done up in a neat bun, and a circular red pendant hung on a chunky chain around her neck. It reminded Sharon of the Japanese flag. Perhaps Min wore it to highlight her Japanese heritage.

“Any messages?” Min asked Rosa.

As Rosa handed the boss a stack of message slips, Min’s gaze shifted across the reception area. Staring at Kate’s ripped black jeans and ratty hoodie, she asked, “Who have we here?”

“Min,” Sharon said. “You remember my little girl Kate.”

“Not so little anymore, I see.”

Sharon forced a laugh. “No, she’s grown into a young woman in her own right.”

“How old are you now?” Min asked.

“Almost seventeen,” Kate said.

“Almost seventeen?” Sharon chuckled. “Honey, you just turned sixteen three months ago.”

Kate scowled at her mother, then turned her gaze to Min. “I like your necklace. Where’d you get it?”

Min’s eyes widened as she fingered the red circle against her chest. “Oh, this? It was a gift. A gift from my husband.”

“He’s got good taste,” said Kate.

Gwilym’s brow furrowed. His lips pursed noticeably as he glanced in Min’s direction.

Min noticed the client’s oppressive stare and stopped touching the pendant. She folded her hands behind her back, which was a rare pose for her. Usually it was hands on hips or crossed angrily over her chest.

“I gather your visit to your mother’s workplace was unplanned,” Min said crisply. “Otherwise I imagine you’d have worn clothing more suitable for a business office.”

Kate’s face fell. Perhaps she’d understand now why Sharon complained so much about the boss. Even around the office, nobody seemed to realize how much work the boss heaved on Sharon’s head. No, that’s not quite true. Min’s assistant Hildred knew all too well how difficult the boss could be. Same went for Olga, the office cleaning woman. Olga had more than once been the target of Min’s wrath, and always for silly things like failing to leave straight vacuum patterns on the office carpeting. Poor Olga. Poor Hildred! Poor everybody who answered to Min the Terrible.

And now Kate was seeing that dreadful side of Min.

Pulling a colourful poster from her backpack, Kate said, “My band’s got a gig coming up. I’m here to make copies of the poster so we can put them up all over the city. We get paid a percentage of what they take in at the door, so we really need to get people out.”

“You didn’t invite me to this gig,” Sharon said. “Where is it? What time?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about it, Mom. You don’t want to come.”

“My baby on stage? Of course I do!”

“Mom, I really don’t think it’s your kind of music.”

“That’s not important, honey. I want to support you. I’ll be there for sure, and I’ll bring Nora.”

Min interrupted their mother-daughter discussion with a harsh interjection. “I’m sure your mother informed you that we do not allow office equipment to be used for personal gain.”

Kate’s eyes widened. “Oh. Sorry. My dad said it would be okay.”

“Does your father work here?” Min asked haughtily.

“No.”

“But I do,” Min went on. “And, furthermore, I am the boss. What I say goes. Is that understood?”

Kate’s eyes filled with tears, but that old routine didn’t work on Min. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“I’m surprised your mother would have allowed such an infraction.”

“I wouldn’t have!” Sharon jumped in, feeling like a bit of a traitor for throwing her daughter under the bus. “I’m only hearing about this now, Min. I would have told her to make the copies at home.”

“We don’t have a colour printer,” Kate mumbled.

“Well, then, at a copy shop. Whatever.”

“Colour copies cost money,” Kate said.

Min replied, “Exactly.”

Surprisingly, Gwilym jumped in to say, “Have a heart, Min. You were young once.”

Min smirked and said, “Lies.”

Gwilym pulled out his wallet and fished for cash. “How much will it cost to have them done at that place across the street? Fifty dollars? Sixty?” He handed three bills to Kate. “Here, take sixty.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly accept money from a stranger,” Kate said as she plucked the bills from Gwilym’s hand. “You’re too kind, really.”

Sharon felt in awe of her daughter’s artful appropriation of the client’s money.

“It’s my pleasure,” Gwilym said, tilting his head to get a look at the poster. “Next Saturday at the Roxie? Maybe I’ll check it out.”

“You should!” Kate said excitedly. “I mean, if you’re into lesbian feminist punk.”

Gwilym smirked. “Who isn’t?”

Kate glared at her mother. “A lot of people.”

Min pushed her client toward the glass double-doors. “Enough fraternizing, Gwilym. Let’s go to my office and get those papers signed.”

When they were gone, Kate said, “Wow! That guy looks like a movie star.”

“I didn’t realize you could tell a handsome man from a homely one,” Sharon clucked.

“I have eyes, don’t I?”

When the girl started shoving her band poster back in her bag, Sharon asked, “Why are you putting that away? You should get down to the copy place before they close. I’ll come with you if you’re nervous about crossing the street.”

“I’m not a kid, Mom! I got here on my own, didn’t I?” Kate glanced at Rosa, renowned office gossip, who seemed to be taking notes. “First can you show me your new office? I haven’t been here since you worked in a cubicle.”

Sharon’s heart swelled, knowing that her daughter cared about her day to day life. “Sure, of course. Right this way.”

Min’s office door was closed as they passed by, which was just as well. Min obviously wouldn’t have approved of Kate traipsing around the office in such an unbecoming outfit. Sharon knew Kate had better clothes in her closet because she’d picked them out herself, but her daughter never wore nice outfits. Kate seemed to want the world to think she was a bum.

“Here it is,” Sharon said escorting her daughter into the office. “What do you think?”

“It’s tiny,” Kate said. “Why are there papers all over the floor?”

“That’s my filing system.”

“Why don’t you use the filing cabinets?”

“I do. They’re full.”

“Doesn’t your boss get mad that your office is such a mess?”

Sharon thought back to all the times Min had howled at her for keeping such an unkempt workspace. In fact, she’d been moved into an office from her cubicle so Min could close the disaster zone behind a door when clients were around.

Kate shook her head. “And you used to scream at me because my bedroom was a mess.”

“I didn’t scream,” Sharon countered. “And your bedroom wasn’t just messy—you were growing mushrooms in there.”

“Mushrooms are a sustainable food source,” Kate said with a guarded smirk. “Everyone should grow mushrooms in their bedroom.”

Sharon smirked too. “Whatever you say. You want a cranberry juice? Or a can of pop?”

“Isn’t that stuff for clients? Min’ll probably beat you if she catches us stealing juice.”

“Okay,” Sharon said. “Well, the copy place closes at five. You’d better get your butt down there. Sure you don’t want me to come?”

Kate waved a hand in her mother’s direction. “Oh, I’m not going there.”

“Whereareyou going?”

Kate shrugged. “Nowhere.”

Sharon cocked her head in confusion.

“Do I have to explain this?” Kate asked.

“Obviously.”

The girl growled and then closed Sharon’s office door, tossing her knapsack on the floor. “You’ve got a perfectly good colour copy machine right here. Why would I go anywhere else?”

“Because Min said you couldn’t use the copier. Were you not listening?”

“Sure I was listening. I just don’t care.”

“You don’t care that your mother could lose her job because you refuse to follow the rules?”

Kate heaved herself against the closed door. “Gimme a break, Mom! You’re not gonna get fired for making a few photocopies.”

“Oh, you think so? Well, I’ll tell you why that rule is in place.”

“I don’t care!”

“You may not care, but you’re going to listen.”

Kate covered her eyes with both hands and growled.

“Because two former employees here started moonlighting.”

“Whatever that is…”

“Moonlighting: working a second job. You’ve never heard that term?”

“No. When is it from, the 1800s?”

“Well, there was a TV show calledMoonlightingin the 80s.”

“Exactly.”

“The 80s were not the 1800s.”

“If it’s before I was born, it’s all the same to me.”

“You’re getting me off-track,” Sharon said. “Listen: these two employees were using company resources, including the photocopier, to build a very successful small business after hours. When Phil from IT found out about their little scheme, Min fired those two on the spot.”

“But the side business was successful?” Kate asked.

“Yes, very. One was a graphic designer, the other was in sales. They built up quite a host of clients looking for design work.”

“So when they got fired from here, couldn’t they do their side business full-time?”

“Yes, I believe that’s exactly what they did.”

“Well then so what? It all worked out in the end.”

“For them,” Sharon said. “Not for Min.”

“But I thought you didn’t like Min.”

“I don’t particularly.”

“So why do you care if people screw her business over?”

That one stopped Sharon in her tracks. She hated to agree with her daughter, but Kate had a point, there. So she changed gears: “Anyway, Min’s client gave you sixty dollars for copies.”

“Yeah, but if I use your copier for free, I can spend that sixty bucks on… other things.”

Sharon sighed. “Katie, honey, I sincerely hope you don’t plan to spend Gwilym’s money on illegal substances.”

Kate scoffed. “Who, me? I never!”

“Mmm-hmm…”

“Hey, wait, what’s that guy’s name?”

“Gwilym.”

“Gwilym?” Kate cackled. “Oh my God, that’s awesome.”

“It’s Welsh, I believe.”

“It’s weird. I love it. I want to change my name to Gwilym.”

“It’s a man’s name.”

“Then I’ll be Gwilyma. How’s that?”

Sharon couldn’t help but laugh. Irritating as her daughter could be at times, Kate was a truly funny kid. If only they could have more moments of mirth and fewer headaches maybe it would be possible to rebuild the fun-loving relationship they’d enjoyed when Kate was younger. Before the divorce. Before Nora.

“If you really want to use the copier, we’ll have to wait until afterhours.”

Kate made a face. “What am I supposed to do until then?”

“Your homework, perhaps?”

Kate stuck a finger down her throat and faux-gagged.

“Your father sent me a copy of your latest report card, Kate. There’s room for improvement, to say the least.”

“School is stupid. As soon as I turn eighteen I’m dropping out.”

A burst of anger shot through Sharon’s body as she recalled the time and money spent on tutors and enrichment classes when Kate was younger. “You most certainly will not be dropping out of high school, young lady. You will work your butt off to get into a good university, and you will earn a degree just like we planned.”

Kate shrugged nonchalantly. “Dad says I don’t have to.”

“There is no way your father’s going to let you drop out of high school.”

Another shrug. “When I’m eighteen it won’t matter what you and dad say. I’ll live with Grandpa. He dropped out of Grade Eight.”

“Times were different back then.”

“Times are different now. You can get a PhD and still end up working at a coffee house. What’s the point of spending all that money on a useless piece of paper? Anyway, I’m in a band.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I’m gonna be a musician. I don’t need school for that.”

Sharon collapsed in her swivel chair. “God help me!”

“See? This is why I never talk to you. You don’t support my dreams.”

“That’s because your dreams are idiotic!”

Kate’s jaw dropped. Sharon could practically feel her daughter’s teeth clenching.

“Not idiotic,” Sharon self-corrected. “That’s the wrong word. I should have said your dreams are… unlikely. Pie in the sky.”

“Oh okay,” Kate snapped. “I’ll just get a degree in music appreciation, then pump out a kid and be someone’s secretary for the next forty years.”

A typical Kate pot-shot at her mother, but it hurt Sharon to the core. “I’m not Min’s secretary.”

Kate raised a brow, glancing around at the stacks of paperwork piled on the floor. “Could have fooled me.”

Sharon’s phone rang. She took a cleansing breath before answering. It was a client trying to track down information she was sure she’d sent in an email. She spent so long on the phone Kate actually sat on the floor and pulled a math text from her bag. When the call was over, Sharon returned emails in silence, afraid of breaking her daughter’s concentration.

Around 5:30, Sharon heard a familiar voice outside her door. It was Min asking someone, “Has Sharon left for the day?”

The voice that answered belonged to Phil from IT, whose office was next to Sharon’s. “I heard yelling earlier, but it’s been quiet for a while.”

“Her daughter was here,” Min said. “They probably left early. I’ll have her make up the time tomorrow.”

Sharon rolled her eyes. She worked late every night. She was working late now! If she wanted to head out a couple minutes early, she was more than entitled.

Another voice piped up—that of Min’s dutiful assistant Hildred. “Her door is closed. She must be gone.”

Min then told Hildred, “If that’s the case then you’ll have to process these forms for me.”

“Can’t I do it in the morning?” Hildred asked. “I haven’t been to a single yoga class all week.”

Min said, “Very well, then.” She growled under her breath and went on: “Good help is hard to find.”

Phil called out, “Night, Hil.”

“Don’t work too late,” Hildred called back.

“I’m right behind you.”

Kate stared silently at the closed door, visualizing Hildred pulling her purse from the bottom drawer and changing from her office shoes to her commuter sneakers.

When silence overtook the hall, Sharon crept out from behind her desk and gingerly stepped over piles of paper. Kate quietly folded her textbook closed and set it on the floor. She picked up her poster and stood, maintaining eye contact with her mother all the while.

Sharon raised a finger to her lips and then turned the doorknob slowly.

She inched open the door and peeked into the hall.

The coast was clear.

She waved her daughter over and they slipped out of her office, closed the door, and then snuck into the copy room across the hall.

Once that door was closed behind them, Sharon breathed a sigh of relief. This was somewhat of an all-purpose room, housing a kitchenette in addition to a mailroom and storage area. Fridge, coffeemaker, photocopier, fax, postage machine—with so much heavy equipment there was a soothing buzz in the air.

“Do you think we’re safe to start copying?” Kate asked her mother.

“Should be. There’s a back exit through that door there, but I’m pretty sure Hildred and Phil have both gone.”

“What about Min?” Kate asked. “Do you think she left?”

“Doesn’t matter. Min never leaves by the back door. She’s too important to set foot in the mailroom.”

Kate opened the top of the heavy-duty photocopier and set the poster on the glass. “Facedown, right?”

“That’s right.” Sharon hovered over her daughter. “How many copies?”

“I don’t know. A thousand?”

“A thousand?” Sharon hollered.

Kate raised a finger to her lips. “Shhh, Mom! Keep your voice down.”

“Oh, nobody will hear us in here.”

Kate tried to press 1000 on the digital copier, but the screen kept defaulting to 100. Sharon wasn’t about to tell her daughter you could only program up to 999 copies at a time.

“One hundred is perfect,” Sharon said, and hit the START button.

A message popped up, which read ENTER PASSCODE.

“What’s your passcode, Mom?”

“Oh, no. We’re not using mine. Min scrutinizes everyone’s printing numbers except her own. She’s paranoid about being cheated by employees.”

Sharon punched in Min’s printer passcode. Just as she was about to hit START, the door inched open.

“Someone’s coming!” Kate squeaked.

Sharon grabbed her daughter’s arm and pulled the girl into the storage closet, swiftly pulling the double doors closed behind them. Though the closet was large, it was backed with innumerable boxes of paper, so mother and daughter had to scrunch together. In that enclosed space, Sharon got a generous whiff of her daughter’s various body odors.

“Jesus, Kate. When was the last time you took a shower?”

“Shh,” Kate said, sitting on a stack of boxes and gazing through the gap between the two doors. “Look, it’s a cleaning cart. And a cleaner.”

Sharon leaned over her daughter and peeked through the gap. “That’s Olga. She’s Russian.”

As if to prove Sharon’s point, the cleaner took out her cell phone, dialled a number with speakerphone on, and proceeded to chat in Russian with the woman who answered the call. Olga set her phone on her cart and continued her conversation while she wiped down the kitchenette countertop.

The door from the office opened again. High as Kate and Sharon jumped, Olga jumped even higher. Rushing to the cleaning cart, she smacked her phone, hanging up on her friend.

“Oh. Hello,” she said to the unseen figure who’d just entered the mailroom.

“Howdy, Olga.”

“Who is it?” Kate whispered to Sharon.

“Sounds like Phil.”

“I thought he left already.”

“So did I.”

The fridge opened and closed—they knew this by sound alone—followed by the crackle-fizz of a can of pop.

“You are drinking orange?” Olga asked. “You usually drink grape.”

“What can I say? I feel like something a little different today.”

“Ahhh.”

Phil stepped into view as he took a long swig. He then held the orange can at arm’s length and said, “Today is the first day of the rest of my life.”

“Yes,” Olga replied as Phil made his way past the mail sorting area. “Nighty-night,” he said as he opened the back door and left.

Olga returned to her phone when he’d gone, but before she’d finished redialling, the office door opened once more. Olga huffed as another unseen figure entered the room.

“Oh darn. Did you dump out the coffee already?”

Olga threw her phone at the cart like it was on fire. “Yes, Miss. Did you want a cup?”

“Yeah, I was gonna drink it on the subway.”

“I am sorry, Miss.”

Kate strained to see through the gap in the doors, and then asked her mother, “Who’s talking?”

“Sounds like Hildred,” Sharon whispered. “I thought she left ages ago.”

Hildred said, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll make a single-serve coffee at reception—just don’t tell Min. She’d freak. She always tells everyone that single-serve machine is for clients only.”

“Yes, Miss,” Olga replied.

“But I don’t care. I’m gonna make one anyway. You want one too? They’re really good.”

“No, Miss.”

“You sure? The mocha latte is sooo yummy. It’s probably ten million calories, but oh well. Sure you don’t want one?”

“I am sure, Miss.”

“Oh my God,” Hildred went on. “You should have seen Min this one time when a bicycle courier tried to make himself a cup. She started screaming at him to get his filthy hands off her Keurig. It was hilarious. I felt bad for the guy.”

“Yes, Miss.”