July 23, 2024

After the success of her first true crime podcast series, barista Joss Miller returns with a new season of the Cold Justice Podcast. Joss dives into the investigation of a local artist and activist, Rebecca Montgomery, who went missing three years ago. 

As Joss pieces together the puzzle, someone is determined to keep the truth buried. Now six months into dating Detective Andre Baez, Joss’ determination to find the truth could jeopardize their relationship and her life.

Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1

Stirring Mayhem

Tuesday, June 11, 10:05 a.m.

There were only a few times in my life when I’d felt my body floating, even though I was standing still. I could hear the murmur of conversations around me. Even the mixed scents of freshly brewed coffee and sweet cinnamon rolls didn’t break my focus.

Really, it was only a few seconds. But the longer I laid eyes on the man in front of me, the warmer my body felt. 

“Okay, I would normally say you two need to get a room, but Ms. Joss Miller here is supposed to be working. Detective Baez, don’t you have some case to solve?”

I tore my eyes away from the handsome detective, my cheeks warm from embarrassment, and looked at my boss. “Um, I was giving Detective Baez his order.” I snuck a glance at him. “He’s such a faithful customer.”

Fay crossed her arms, she eyed me and then Detective Baez. “Really, Joss.” She shook her head before heading to the back of Sugar Creek Café.

Detective Andre Baez came into the café every morning like clockwork. I told him he was a café resident now. We had several patrons who visited daily. While he loved our special blend of coffee, he was also my boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

I often wanted to pinch myself. We’d been dating for almost eight months. And I was very much in love.

The way Andre gave me his full attention, I felt pretty sure he was smitten with me too.

He grinned. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

I waved my hand. “It’s fine. Fay’s been in a mood the past few days. I don’t know if you heard, but the Davis family down the street is closing their boutique. They’re on the other side of the Book Nook. So there will be two empty storefronts on this block.”

Andre let out a slow whistle. “Really? That’s got to be tough. I thought everyone was united in not selling.”

I shrugged. “That’s what I thought, but apparently Rick Nelson worked his magic. Plus, Mrs. Davis is up in age and she’s been trying to get one of her children to take over the shop for years. I think she’s tired. Money looked good toward her retirement.”

This all started late last fall when the owner of the craft store next door, the Crafty Corner, was killed. There was quite a bit of fallout from Maggie Nelson’s death, including her younger brother, Rick Nelson, inheriting the property. Rick decided to shut down the craft shop, and for the past nine months, he’s been fixated on a campaign that would bring in developers. His primary goal – to build a luxury hotel.

It would only be a matter of time before Rick Nelson started hounding Fay about selling the café again. He sent a letter late last year, which both Fay and her fellow business owner, Albertine Lancaster of the Book Nook verbally protested at a city council meeting. Fay was pretty popular on social media and brought her grievances to her followers, who flooded Nelson with online posts opposing his antics.

However Rick tried to come at Fay, he would have to tread carefully.

I knew how much Fay loved this place. The café had been like home to me, and Fay had been really good to me. Not only as a mentor, but also like a big sister. When I struggled a few years ago to find my way, she gave me a chance. I’d always loved coffee, but being a barista hadn’t really crossed my mind. Now I was Fay’s right hand woman, the assistant manager of Sugar Creek Café.

“Tell Fay it will be okay. The café has quite the fanbase, and Rick Nelson doesn’t.” Andre’s cell phone beeped.

I watched as he removed the phone that was hooked to his belt. His eyebrows creased as he read the message. Then he reached for his coffee cup and looked at me. “I need to go.”

“Do you want a refill?” I hoped he would hint at what had worried his handsome face.

He shook his head. “Thanks, I’m good. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay.” My mood dropped a bit as the familiar door chimes rang and he headed out. I wondered where he was going and if it was a new case. I looked around Sugar Creek Café taking in the cozy atmosphere. The thought of losing all this to some soulless redevelopment project was even more depressing.

I walked in the back to check on Fay. I found her at her desk, staring at the laptop. “Are you okay?”

Fay sighed. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I’m glad you two are still going strong.”

“Me too.” I hadn’t had the best track record with dating and had taken long extended men fasts in between.

“Have you talked to Mrs. Davis? Any chance she might change her mind.”

“Unfortunately, no.” Fay frowned. “She said Rick offered her more money than she could ever imagine, but I felt like there was something else she wasn’t telling me.”

“Like what? Do you think he tried to intimidate her?”

Fay sighed. “I wouldn’t put it past Rick Nelson. You know more than most that the whole family is a bunch of bullies.”

Yes, I knew that well. The Nelsons and I had crossed paths too many times for me to care.

Still, I asked a question that I already knew the answer to. “Do you think Rick Nelson is going to pressure you?”

Fay smirked. “I have no doubts that he will try. He’s probably going to leave me for last. I just hope other business owners don’t cave to him. I don’t want us to be left standing alone.”

I heard the chimes of the café door, a customer had arrived or left. “Hang in there. Let me go out and take care of this customer.”

My gaze swept the customer at the counter, and my heart broke a little. Claude McKnight. The café was practically a gallery of sorts featuring all kinds of artwork by this very talented artist. One of my favorite pieces was one I commissioned him to do for me.

A large portrait of my grandfather August Manning, a charismatic young man from this community whose life was cut short fifty years ago, was seen by the many people that graced our doors.

As I approached the counter, I put on a smile to hide my concern. Claude was a handsome man, but he always looked like a starving artist. He spent most of his mornings sleeping, rising late in the afternoon and painting until the early hours of the next morning. So it was unusual to see him in the café at this time of day. And today, dirty blonde hair unkempt and dark circles under his eyes, he appeared more disheveled than usual.

“Hey, Claude,” I greeted him. “What can I get you?”

He gave me a small smile. “I’ll take an espresso and one of those banana nut muffins.”

“Sure thing.” After he swiped his card, I said, “I’ll bring it out to you.”

“Great.” He turned to look around the café. “I’m going to talk to Eleanor.”

Eleanor Olsen was one of our regular café residents and a local mystery author. Claude’s deceased father and Eleanor had been friends all their lives. I’d often wondered if the never married Eleanor had unrequited feelings for Claude’s dad. She talked about him fondly and looked after Claude like he was her own son.

I added Claude’s order to a tray and walked over to Eleanor’s table. “How’s it going, you two?”

Eleanor smiled. “It’s been a good morning, especially now being around two of my favorite people.”

I grinned. “I appreciate you, Eleanor.”

I placed the tray in front of Claude. “Is everything okay?”

He took a sip of the espresso and sat for a few seconds, almost like he needed the liquid to boost his energy before responding. “It’s been hard these past few days.”

His eyes darted around nervously as if he was afraid someone might overhear. “I know I can share this with you two,” he admitted. “You know about my friend Rebecca Montgomery, right?”

I nodded. “Yes, she went missing almost three years ago now.”

Eleanor asked, “Has there been any breaks in her case?”

Claude crossed his arms and then uncrossed them, placing his hands on the table. “The anniversary of her disappearance was Saturday. Her sister came by the studio last night. She seemed to want to talk, but then she started asking me all kinds of questions. The same ones she asked me last year and the year before last. I finally asked her to leave.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, Claude. It’s crazy how Rebecca disappeared, and all this time no one knows what happened. I know that must eat away at her sister.”

Claude placed his hands over his eyes as if he wanted to shut out the world. Then he blew out a breath. “I know Olivia and Becca weren’t all that close, but they were it. Their mother died years ago. I don’t know why, but Olivia suspected me from the beginning. The police suspected me too. Even though I don’t know anything, I can never really get out from underneath people’s suspicions.”

Claude stared down and then ate a piece of the banana nut muffin. He took a while to swallow before speaking. With a choked reply, he said. “We argued the day before. Me and Becca. I never imagined that I would never see her again. It’s truly not a good idea to stay angry with someone.”

Don’t let the sun go down while you are still angry.

That’s one of the few bible verses I had learned over the years. I glanced at Eleanor. I knew she was almost finished writing a book that was loosely based on Rebecca’s disappearance. But I wasn’t sure if Claude was aware of this.

“Well, maybe I can help.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “I’ve been thinking about what to talk about next for the Cold Justice Podcast. People keep asking me if I’m going to do a new season.“ I paused. “Do you think it would be a good idea for me to discuss Rebecca’s disappearance?”

Claude bit his lower lip before replying. “Joss, I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea. I mean, I appreciate the thought, but Rebecca’s case… it’s different.”

I placed my hand on my hips. “Different how?”

He hesitated, looking down at his hands. “Rebecca was acting off in the weeks leading up to her disappearance. I don’t want you getting involved in anything dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” I commented. “What exactly was Rebecca involved in?”

Claude sighed, his shoulders slumping. “You mean who was she involved with? You would have to talk to these people to get a podcast going, and I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.” He suddenly sat up straighter. “You’re dating Detective Baez now. He might also have the same concerns as I do with you doing the podcast.”

“Oh.” I confessed with a blush. Andre and I met just as I’d launched my first podcast. He had some choice words about me pursuing my own investigation. Since then I’d been quiet and focused on developing our relationship.

But lately I’ve been itching to do something. To get back to my podcast. I didn’t want to be a one hit wonder. I really wanted to pursue the truth in other cold cases too.

Claude interrupted my thoughts. “Maybe Detective Baez can find out about the status of Becca’s investigation.”

“Claude, if there were people around Rebecca that could have caused her harm, why didn’t the police approach them instead of bothering you?”

He shrugged. “I guess I was an easier target.”

“Oh no.”

Claude and I turned to Eleanor. She hadn’t been contributing to the conversation, but her face was paler than usual as she looked over at Claude.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Did you find something?”

Eleanor clasped her hands across her chest. “It’s all over social media. Some hiker and his dog found human remains.”

Claude gripped the table so hard his knuckles turned white. With barely a whisper, he asked what I was sure we were all thinking. “Becca? Is it her?”

Could that possibly have been the message Andre received on his phone earlier? Was that where he was headed?

If this body really was Rebecca Montgomery, what happened to her? And why was she resurfacing now?