Bear Witness to Murder Read online

  Praise for Bearly Departed by Meg Macy

  “The first in a new series features a complex plot awash in red herrings, a perky heroine whose many problems are certain to blossom in future installments, and everything you ever wanted to know about teddy bears.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “Sasha Silverman, the narrator of Macy’s entertaining first novel and series launch, runs her family’s teddy bear business, the Silver Bear Shop and Factory, in Silver Hollow, Mich., an idyllic small town filled with excellent eateries and eccentric shops—inhabited by quirky, fully developed characters and good dogs and cats.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Teddy bears and murder may not usually go together, but in this case they make a cute start to the new Teddy Bear Mystery series. Sasha proves to be a delightful protagonist—family-oriented, compassionate, and charming. The mystery is well-plotted, the whodunit not instantly obvious . . . Tours of the factory break up the tension . . . A town full of colorful suspects add to the wit and overall quirkiness.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Macy, half of the D. E. Ireland team, launches an engaging series filled with charming details about stuffed animals. The appealing, impulsive amateur sleuth, dedicated to the family business, will appeal to fans of character-driven cozies such as Lorna Barrett’s ‘Booktown’ mysteries.”

  —Library Journal

  “Information on retail business and, in particular, on the manufacturing of teddy bears is woven throughout this satisfying cozy.”

  —Booklist

  “You’ll fall in love with this delightful debut mystery.” —Victoria Thompson, bestselling author of

  Murder in Morningside Heights

  “Teddy bears, quaint shops, and murder! Bearly Departed is stuffed with everything cozy mystery readers crave.”

  —Leigh Perry, author of The Family Skeleton series

  “Cute and cuddly on the outside, murder and mayhem on the inside—I love this book!!! Totally adorable.”

  —Duffy Brown, bestselling author of Braking for Bodies

  “Sasha Silverman is an adorable protagonist you want to root for from beginning to end of this fun small-town mystery.”

  —Nancy Coco, national bestselling author of The Candy-Coated Mystery series

  “A quaint teddy bear store in a scenic Michigan town with interesting characters make this a cozy mystery that readers will surely want to snuggle up with—and the twists and turns will make it unbearable to put down.”

  —Barbara Early, author of the Vintage Toy Shop Mysteries

  “A twisty mystery tale with a likable protagonist and a colorful supporting cast. Sure to be a very enjoyable series!”

  —Livia J. Washburn, bestselling author of Black and Blueberry Die

  Books by Meg Macy

  Bearly Departed

  Bear Witness to Murder

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  Bear Witness to Murder

  MEG MACY

  KENSINGTON BOOKS

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Praise for Bearly Departed by Meg Macy

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  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

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

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

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2018 by Meg Macy

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  eISBN-13: 978-1-4967-0966-0

  eISBN-10: 1-4967-0966-7

  First Kensington Electronic Edition: June 2018

  ISBN: 978-1-4967-0965-3

  To my little Sweet Pea

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thanks again to my beary supportive “team”—my daughters, El and Nari; the Empress (my berry best friend) for the Oktobear Fest idea; all the tea ladies; my sisters, Karen, Kris, and Janet for great times away from the laptop; Amy for the antique bears and inspiration; Eleanor (plus Piggy and Stegga) for much-needed laughter; my Little Guy (every writer needs a loyal dog at their feet); my wonderful editor, Wendy McCurdy, and her helpful assistant, Norma; Karen, Michelle, Paula, and everyone else at Kensington; my agent, John Talbot, for great chats about the mystery market; and, last but not least, faithful readers and teddy bear lovers!

  I’m always finding a bear around the house I’ve forgotten I had tucked away, or seeing a few wherever I go—that warms my heart. Gotta love sweet, fuzzy teddy bears.

  Chapter 1

  “She’s so furry! I love her.” The little girl hugged the brown bear dressed in a striped orange sweater. “Can I keep her, Mom? Please?”

  “We’ll see,” the woman said with a smile. “You have plenty of stuffed animals at home, remember, and a few teddy bears. Why do you want another one?”

  “She told me she wants to come home.” The child lifted the bear from its high chair and held it near her ear. “Her name is Daisy. She wants to play with my other teddies.”

  “Then Daddy will buy Daisy as an early birthday present.”

  I set a plate of cranberry scones on their table with a smile. Kids and their imaginations could be so precious. “I’ll update my list,” I said. “Daisy the tan bear to the young lady in the flowered blue dress, table five.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Silverman,” the mom said. “My husband will be picking us up at four o’clock and he can pay you then.”

  “Of course. And please. Call me Sasha.”

  “Everyone’s friendly here in Silver Hollow. It’s wonderful, so charming.”

  I thanked her and delivered scones to the next table. Thank goodness I’d brought several teddies to sell from the Silver Bear Shop & Factory—which my parents owned, and I managed over the last seven years. My sister, Maddie, who staffed the office, figured a few kids might forget to bring one to the tea party. I checked the list at the front register. Five had sold, a nice bonus. Maddie had also left coupons for fifteen percent off any bear and accessories at each place setting. People seemed to appreciate that.

  Things were going well for a busy Saturday on October’s first weekend, when people could be attending football games or doing yard work instead. Our event was the kickoff for the village’s Oktobear Fest, and we’d been worried. The committee insisted on changing the name to the First Annual Cran-beary Tea Party, despite the flyers we’d passed out last month, but no matter. Tickets sold out within a week. And everyone seemed to enjoy the new Queen Bess
Tea Room, housed in the former Silver Leaf Bed and Breakfast.

  Owners Arthur and Trina Wentworth, newly arrived from England, had set up tables in the parlors and the adjoining library. Laughter and chatter echoed in each redecorated room. Many of the mothers wore hats along with their daughters; at several tables, dads and little brothers joined in the fun. The children paid more attention to the teddy bears, however, than eating the quiche, salads, scones, and savory sandwiches. Maddie and I poured tea—Lady Grey, Cinnamon Spice, Black Currant, or Cranberry herbal—and waited tables.

  Despite my killer sinus headache due to fall allergy season, I was thrilled the tea party was a smashing success. I sneezed into the crook of my elbow. Thank goodness I’d worn the lavender cardigan over a sleeveless dress with butterflies on the skirt. Maddie wore a pale blue cardigan over her floral dress—our makeshift uniforms as temporary waitstaff at the tea room. The Wentworths had yet to hire anyone besides the cook, a young woman from Ann Arbor, who’d prepared the creamy butternut squash soup, sandwiches, and scones.

  My best friend, Elle Cooper, smothered a wide grin from where she sat at a nearby table with her young daughters. “I wish Mary Kate could see you as a waitress. The baby got sick this morning, and she feels terrible missing this.”

  “I wish I could refund her ticket money.”

  “She won’t care. Your nose is all red, Sasha.” Elle searched her dress pockets. “I’ve got an allergy pill. Somewhere.”

  “I took one. An hour ago.” I sneezed again. “Could be the eucalyptus in the vases. Or the goldenrod. But I’m glad the Wentworths bought this bed-and-breakfast. Converting it into a tea room was a fabulous idea.”

  “I always thought it was too small as an inn anyway, with only four bedrooms upstairs.” Elle hooked a thumb toward the back. “I hear they’re almost done converting that back closet into a second restroom with handicap access.”

  “I’m shocked they turned this place into a showpiece so fast.”

  So much had changed in the short time since “Will’s Folly.” That’s what Silver Hollow residents now called the murder of the Silver Bear Shop & Factory’s sales rep, Will Taylor, before Labor Day. Few were sad; Will hadn’t been popular with our workers. Still, others had been affected in the aftermath. Murder was a nasty business. Sales at the shop boomed from all the publicity, good and bad, and visitors to the area tripled. But I wasn’t proud of nearly getting myself killed by sleuthing. I’d learned my lesson.

  In record time, the Wentworths had hired a crew to clear out and clean the entire Queen Anne–style house from top to bottom. Then they brought in a massive black walnut sideboard for the front parlor, plus square tables and chintz-covered chairs in a pink, green, and gold rose pattern. They’d installed teacup chandeliers, four in each parlor and two in the library. Crisp linen cloths in pastel pink or green draped the tables with white lace overlays. Place settings in an eclectic array of teacups, saucers, plates, and flatware added to the charm. Gold-framed landscapes of the English countryside and castles hung on the walls.

  I had to admit the tea room was an improvement over the dowdy bed-and-breakfast.

  “Celia! Stop that,” Elle hissed to her younger daughter, who was dunking a shabby teddy bear’s nose into her full teacup.

  “Mom, she spilled all over the tablecloth,” said her older daughter, Cara.

  “I’ve got it.” I mopped the liquid with extra napkins. Both girls wore party dresses and hair ribbons, and I recognized Elle’s pale blue dress from a shopping trip we’d taken last spring. “Which of the sandwiches did you like best, girls?”

  “The strawberry cream cheese,” Celia sang out.

  “I like the peanut butter ones,” Cara said, “but they need more jelly.”

  “Jam, not jelly. And no, teddies can’t eat or drink,” Elle said. The girls giggled at the wet smear on Celia’s bear. “Now behave, or we won’t be able to come next year.”

  “I’d better get back to work. Of course I’ll bring more scones,” I said when the woman at the next table waved me over. “I hope you’re enjoying the tea party.”

  “Yes, indeed. We’re planning on a visit to the new toy and bookstore, too.”

  When she turned to speak to her friends, I noted Elle’s discomfort. Maddie, Mary Kate, and I were all worried sick for her and my cousin Matt. Bad enough that people ordered books online instead of visiting small bookstores like The Cat’s Cradle. But the competition from Holly Parker’s new toy and bookshop, Through the Looking Glass, would draw customers away and cut into their profits. I knew full well that Matt and Elle were barely surviving.

  I glanced at the large corner table where Holly sat with a red-haired woman. Holly and I shared a bitter rivalry long ago in high school; she hadn’t changed her hairstyle, still wearing it straight and long, although her tortoise-shell glasses looked modern. I tried to keep an open mind about her return to Silver Hollow, although I had to wonder why she chose to open a shop two weeks ago in direct competition. That didn’t set well with my family.

  Holly looked like an ingénue in a white dress with a row of sparkly rhinestones along the neckline. She’d always favored white, from what I recalled, which set off the natural olive hue of her complexion and tanned limbs. A bright pink jacket with silver bling spelling out THINK PINK was draped behind her chair. That reminded me of her extensive collection of Pink Panther memorabilia. Or perhaps “obsession” was more apropos.

  To each their own.

  I wasn’t pleased reading Dave Fox’s Silver Hollow Herald, which quoted Holly as saying “Our shop is already number one in sales here in Silver Hollow.” That seemed a stretch. Maddie had witnessed her double-parking in the middle of Theodore Lane and getting ticketed by the local police for it, over the weekend when she’d moved into the former Holly Jolly Christmas shop. That reminded me. I needed to ask about some lost merchandise.

  “Are you both enjoying the party?” I asked. Holly beamed at me.

  “Oh, yes! I’m so glad we got tickets. It’s so sweet, seeing all the little kids with their teddy bears. I hope you don’t mind that I passed out a few flyers for my shop.”

  Since she’d already done so, I figured it was useless to object. “Gina Lawson,” the red-haired woman said, and gave me a firm handshake. “I’m Holly’s shop assistant, marketing guru, and publicity person.”

  “Nice to meet you, Gina.” I eyed her short tomato-red pixie haircut, gelled up in a curved ridge, rocker-style, and heart-shaped face. “Sounds like you know your promo stuff. I’ve seen a lot of your social media lately. Tweets and Facebook posts about the new store.”

  “Great.”

  Gina smiled, a bit slyly I thought, so I addressed Holly. “I should have asked you long before now, but did you come across any of our silver or white teddy bears? Among all the items left behind in the Holly Jolly shop, I mean. We had half a dozen bears displayed there.”

  Holly looked sorrowful. “No. We tossed broken ornaments, scads of nonworking fairy lights, and empty boxes. It was such a mess cleaning up.”

  “Well, thanks anyway.”

  I headed toward my sister, who stood near the front entrance. Maddie snapped photos of various guests. She’d already taken multiple shots of the table settings before anyone arrived. “Isn’t Flynn coming?” she asked. “I thought I saw his name—”

  “On the guest list? I hope not. I’m shocked Mayor Bloom showed up,” I said.

  Across the room from Holly and Gina’s table, Cal Bloom sat with his wife and ninety-year-old mother-in-law. The Blooms were old friends with my parents. While the mayor’s presence in a roomful of mostly women and little girls seemed odd, he appeared to be enjoying himself. His booming laugh caused others around them to join in.

  “Mom and Mrs. Davison seem to be having a good time,” my sister said.

  Barbara Davison, in a bright orange dress and wide-brimmed straw hat, sat with our mother, Judith Silverman, whose teal outfit and fascinator clashed with her friend. The way
they giggled like schoolgirls made me wonder if Mom hadn’t topped their teacups with a nip of something else. She did love brandy. Barbara clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a huge guffaw, in fact, which brought on a glare from Mayor Bloom.

  “What are they talking about?” I muttered.

  “—and I paid a fortune. The restorer used an old fur worn by Alex’s mother to fashion a teddy bear,” Mom was saying. “And then someone snatched Minky Bear! Right out of the house, under our very noses. I have no idea how.”

  “Must have been one of the maids,” Barbara said. “Did you report it stolen?”

  “Yes, but nothing ever came of it.”

  I noted how both Holly and Gina seemed to be enraptured by their conversation. “What a tragedy,” Holly said. “A real mink bear. That must have been precious.”

  “Yes. And I wouldn’t let my girls play with it, ever.”

  That was certainly true. Not that Maddie or I ever wanted to touch it. Grandma Helen Silverman never let us do anything except sit quiet when we visited her house as children. A teddy bear made of her mink stole didn’t appeal to me, especially with its staring beady eyes and those tiny dangling paws. Minky Bear was incredibly soft, but ugh. Bad memories.

  After stacking soiled plates, I headed to the kitchen and almost collided with Maddie. She sailed past with a presumably empty teapot in each hand. Skirts swirling, her high heels muted by the carpet, she looked fresh and vibrant. My feet were killing me in flats, and although I spent most of my days standing behind the shop counter, I was exhausted. Maybe I needed to start working out more often. Instead I snitched a crab tartlet.