Valentine's Madness: A 1920s Historical Mystery Anthology Read online

  Valentine’s Madness

  Beth Byers

  Pamela Welsh

  Bettie Jane

  Emily Queen

  Carolyn L. Dean

  Copyright © 2019 by Beth Byers, Pamela Welsh, Bettie Jane, Emily Queen & Carolyn L. Dean

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Summary

  Rum & Roses

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Mercy or Murder

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  An Impractical Proposal

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  The Case of the Misdelivered Valentine

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  A Party To Die For

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Summary

  Welcome to a very flapper Valentine’s Day!

  Are you ready for the roaring twenties? For spunky young women crafting their own lives? If so, you’ll love Violet, Julia, Abigail, Evelyn, and Rosemary.

  Inside, you’ll find four short Valentine’s day adventures, 1920s style including roses, chocolates, kisses, and cocktails. With stories from The Violet Carlyle Mysteries, the Piccadilly Ladies Club Mysteries, the Abigail Dutcher Mysteries, the Jazz & Gin Cozy Mysteries, and The Lillywhite Mysteries.

  Rum & Roses

  By Beth Byers

  Author’s Note: This short story can be read as a stand alone. It does, however, fall in between the novels: A Merry Little Murder and Murder Among the Roses.

  Chapter One

  “Happy Valentine’s Day!” Kate called. The sound of Kate’s voice woke Violet, and she slowly pushed back her eye mask, luxuriating in the warmth of Cuban air. Violet curled onto her side and gazed out the long windows that overlooked the Atlantic Ocean. The sky and sea were blue, and Violet wasn’t sure that anything was more beautiful after England than Cuba.

  It wasn’t that Violet didn’t love England—she did. The rolling hills, gray skies, the frequent scent of rain, the way the wind had a slightly crisp chill. She loved it especially when the fog descended, coating the world in secrets and a touch of fairyland.

  As much as Violet adored England, the differences in Cuba were just what she needed while she recovered. She stretched out her toes while still burying her face into the pillow. She had been without pain for a week or two, but Violet hadn’t stopped appreciating being able to move and stretch without a twinge of pain. Birds were calling outside, the waves were crashing against the shore, and Violet took in a deep, salty breath and let it slowly out.

  “Is it Valentine’s Day?” Denny asked idly on the patio below. “That can’t be right.”

  Violet could imagine him slowly sipping his coffee, gaze glinting at Lila. There would be a little smirk around the edges of his lips that he was hiding behind his coffee cup. That idle humor gave Denny’s teasing away every time.

  “Darling lad,” Lila said, “as you know, I have expectation for Valentine’s Day.”

  “Ahh,” he said weakly.

  “Expectations that translate into something other than a case of Bacardi that you bought for yourself or chocolate that will melt before even you can consume it. This is why I remind you of the important days.”

  “Ahhhh.” Denny coughed and then squeaked.

  “Which is why I am certain that when you disappeared earlier this week with Victor, you were disappearing to ensure you wouldn’t have to sleep in the sand.”

  Denny laughed, and Violet decided she might as well join her friends for breakfast. She ran her fingers through her hair, exchanged her nightgown for a cream day dress, and made her way down to the patio where a long table was set up.

  Lila had an open box next to her with brown paper folded underneath, and Denny was idly stirring his coffee.

  “Taking a walk on the wild side, Denny? Risking the wrath of Lila?” Violet asked as she bypassed him for a bowl of fruit. There was a toaster, but she was far more interested in the coffee. She made herself a cup, adding a heavy dose of cream, and faced the ocean, letting the already bright sun warm her face.

  “You’ll get unbearably brown,” Lila told Violet, who considered for a moment and then shrugged. She’d rather enjoy some sunshine this morning than worry over her complexion.

  “Perhaps,” Violet said, “I am feeling very risky. Maybe Denny has contaminated me.”

  Lila laughed, holding out her wrist with a pretty gold and diamond bracelet.

  “Very nice,” Violet told Lila. “Denny, did you bring Victor to pick out something tasteful? I remember that emerald creation.”

  Denny winced and then admitted, “That was before my inheritance. I had to—make do with what I had.” He laughed, playing with a cigar before he nodded and then tucked the cigar back into his pocket. The gents had all taken up smoking cigars since coming to Cuba, and Violet expected they’d be bringing back boxes upon boxes in their luggage. It wouldn’t surprise Violet if they pushed whatever the legal limits were with bribes.

  Beyond Kate, there was only Lila and Denny at the table so far. Vi leaned back, enjoying her coffee until Jack arrived.

  “What’s this? Denny and Lila beat me to the table? Does anyone feel a distinct chill of hell freezing?” He smiled at Violet, sitting down next to her with coffee and a full breakfast plate. “Morning, love.”

  “Good morning,” Violet said cheerily, breathing in her coffee. She had been thinking of fairyland and surely it smelled of coffee and sea air.

  “Did you want to walk with me today? I’d like to visit that waterfall.”

  “Oh yes,” Violet nodded, instantly excited.

  She had been wanting to walk up to the waterfall and swim, but it had been long weeks of recovery first. She quickly finished her breakfast and then left the table to change. Beatrice had gone to the market, so Violet had no one to consider clothing options with. The complication was that they’d be driving a ways along the road before they reached the hiking trail to the waterfall. She needed normal clothes for that, but then they’d be swimming later.

  Vi pulled out her swimming costume, parasol, and considered. The swimming costume was red and white stripes on the top with a blue skirt and a white belt. It was adorable and completely unrealistic for hiking up to the waterfall. If she wore her regular loose cover-up, it would just get tangled in the jungle.

  Violet’s mouth twisted and she decided to wear her swimming costume and top it with a loose beige, linen dress. She added stockings and shoes. She’d have to sit around until she dried before she could put her dress back on. The swimming costume didn’t lend itself to the sport pants she’d have considered for a hike otherwise, but she supposed this was the best she could do without a changing room at the waterfall.

  Viol
et examined herself in the mirror. Her hair would be covered by the sunhat, which didn’t mean that Violet wouldn’t be applying her red lipstick. She applied it carefully, popped it into the leather satchel with a long strap she’d taken to using when she needed to carry more than a few pound notes, her compact, house key, and lipstick.

  She examined herself carefully in the mirror. Her features were sharp, her hair and eyes were dark, but she had the peaches and cream skin that had freckled with the excess of sunlight. She’d have to do. Violet picked up her matching sunhat and joined Jack downstairs.

  “I am in need of taking up that Müller System.” Violet stopped, holding her hand to her side, and took a seat wearily on the ground. “I hurt. What’s the promise of the system? Making weaklings strong? I need those results from lunges and push-ups or whatever tortures are included with his program.”

  Jack stood over Violet, hands on his hips. He was a large man, and when he was standing over Violet, she felt as though she were in the shadow of a mountain. Jack had rugged features, penetrating eyes, and a smile that played at the edge of his lips. His gaze glinted at Vi with silent humor as she reached out and let him haul her to her feet. He pulled a little harder than necessary, and she landed against his chest, looking up at him through her lashes.

  “Mr. Wakefield!”

  “Lady Violet,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Shall I carry you up the mountain?”

  Violet glanced up the trail with a very slight incline and smacked his arm. “The mountain? Trying to make me feel like less of a weakling?”

  “You aren’t weak, Vi. You’re recovering.”

  “I don’t hurt anymore. See.” She stretched her arms over her shoulders. “I’m all better now.”

  “You are recovering from…” He turned and frowned at the bushes behind them. He suddenly turned towards the bush, holding Violet behind his back.

  “What are you—” Violet tried to push up on her toes, but he was too tall for her to see over his shoulder.

  “Are you all right?” Jack asked, loosening his grip on Violet.

  She stepped to Jack’s side and frowned. A small boy with dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, and a frown faced them. He shook his head, and Jack cleared his throat, asking the question again in Spanish. Violet didn’t speak the language well, but she could generally follow the gist of a conversation.

  The boy shook his head. He paused and then spoke so rapidly that Violet had a hard time following. The back and forth between the boy and Jack went faster than Violet could follow, especially with the boy half-crying while he spoke.

  The boy finished with, “Please help my mama.”

  Violet had no idea what he’d told Jack, but she squatted down to his level. “Of course we’ll help.”

  She glanced back at Jack, who nodded and told the boy to show the way.

  Chapter Two

  “What’s going on?” Vi asked, grabbing Jack’s wrist. He was following the boy, keeping Violet behind him.

  “The boy says his mother needs help,” Jack said. “My Spanish isn’t all that good to start with, so I’m uncertain of the exact problem. For all I know, we’re following the boy to some hut in the woods where the woman needs help lifting a heavy box.”

  Violet could tell by the tension in Jack’s shoulder that he didn’t believe that was the nature of the problem. She tried to keep up as they moved quickly. The boy had found them on a trail to the waterfall, but once they were a few hundred meters into the jungle, they’d come out onto another trail that seemed to lead deeper into the jungle and away from the road where they’d left their auto.

  They were moving quietly now. The boy was glancing back over his shoulder, whispering something to Jack. The intensity of the boy’s quietness made Violet wince and increased her anxiety to a near trembling extent. It was too recent to her last injury for Violet not to realize a body’s fragility.

  They were in a situation here, and Violet had little doubt that there was something dangerous on the other side. She knew Jack could be a considered a dangerous man. He had, after all, been in the military police during the Great War. Since then, he’d used his skills to investigate and solve crimes simply because he was very good at it.

  Violet had long since accepted she loved him. She wasn’t prepared, however, to watch him approach a dangerous situation without any backup or even a weapon. They’d been hiking to waterfall to go swimming. The only thing they’d been prepared for was a hungry afternoon. Their picnic lunch and bottle of chilled champagne was all they had on them outside of a couple of towels and possibly a pocket knife.

  The boy stopped as they approached a break in the trees. He whispered back to Jack, who said, “Stay here with the child, Vi. Let me see what we’re getting into.”

  To Violet’s surprise, Jack dropped to the ground and crawled on his elbows towards the break in the trees. Violet crouched next to the child and took his hand. He was trembling, and it seemed that Violet and Jack helping the boy was all that was keeping him from falling to pieces.

  Jack was gone for several minutes before he crawled back to the silent Vi and boy. The boy was nearly hidden in the undergrowth, and Violet could see him trembling. She, on the other hand, was pressed into the bark of the nearest tree, trembling out of sympathy and the realization that the boy knew something Violet didn’t.

  “What is it?” she breathed.

  “I—” Jack said something in swift Spanish to the boy and listened as he whispered quick and low.

  Patience was not Violet’s strong suit, and she wanted to shake them both. She had no idea what they were facing, but she could almost be convinced that it was a monster.

  “Jack!” she hissed, keeping her voice low simply because they were all keeping their voices low. She shot him a half-exasperated, half-afraid look.

  “There’s a shack down there. A group of men seemed to be loading up a truck with crates. Both the crates and the rum looked to be half-filled with rum. The crates were topped with blankets and other Cuban type souvenirs . I suppose if customs agents don’t look too hard, it’s a good scam.”

  “Why?” Violet asked. “Can’t they just ship them?”

  “Alcohol is still illegal in the United States.”

  Violet’s brows lifted. She’d forgotten. “Remind me not to bothering visiting New York City after all.”

  “They still have it. They have it in secret.”

  “So why do they have his mother?”

  “He isn’t quite sure. He only knows they took her and she told him to run.”

  “But it’s not illegal in Cuba to have rum or even to crate it up with blankets. All of this is clearly intended to be illegal, but even if that is the end intent, nothing they’re doing right now is illegal. Not in Cuba. Why would anyone care about this?”

  Jack shook his head, and Violet waited. She could tell that Jack had some ideas, and they were making his jaw flex and his shoulders tense.

  “I would guess they’re smuggling more than rum, Vi. Drugs travel through Cuba to the United States as well. Maybe because the island is so close? Who knows? I might have an idea of exactly what we were looking at if this were Nottinghamshire or even Scotland.”

  The boy finally spoke in Spanish that Violet was able to understand, and it filled her with sympathy for the child. “Will you help my Mama?”

  Jack glanced at the boy and then back at Violet.

  “Don’t say it,” she told him.

  He couldn’t stop himself. “You don’t have any business—”

  “His mother is in danger, and I will help. The boy and his mother and you. Don’t think I’m going to let you try to do this on your own and see you stabbed or shot or whatever these folks do to people who interrupt their criminal activities.”

  “Maybe we can ransom her release,” Jack suggested.

  “With the money in your wallet? Or did you intend to write them an IOU? This isn’t your club, Jack.”

  Jack shot her a quelling loo
k, but she wasn’t impressed. They both knew that wouldn’t work. Violet wasn’t even wearing jewelry, but why would any criminal let them bribe away a captive for Jack’s pinky ring and thirty quid? They’d simply find themselves robbed and—if they were lucky—dumped in the middle of nowhere.

  “Perhaps that’s not the best idea but neither is you getting involved, Violet. You are—”

  “Not an unwitting cipher. Why don’t you give up and let me help? It’ll be easier if you simply give in.” Violet grinned and winked at him. “If you let me help, I’ll do what you say.”

  They both ignored the unstated threat that if he didn’t give her something to do, she’d find a way to help him on her own.

  He didn’t answer right away, and she tried, “It is Valentine’s Day, Jack. I’d rather have you treat me like an equal who can help than a useless damsel.”

  Jack muffled a groan and glanced over his shoulder.

  “Wait here.” Jack approached the break in the trees again, crawling forward on his elbows.

  Violet could imagine Jack sneaking through some foreign forest during the war. Even if he was with the military police, he might have had to sneak about. She wasn’t going to ask and make him relive the war. She could let him have his stories until he was willing to tell her—when and if he wanted to and not a day before.