A Taste of Bliss: Book 2 of the Lyssa Jones Cozy Mystery Series

Chapter 1

I was drowning. Drowning in glitter, in sequins, in satins and silks. It wouldn’t be a terrible way to go, but I was too young, still had a lot of life left in me. I was pretty sure my brain had blocked out the sheer (no pun intended) volume of stuff I’d bought from Edna White. This was the fourth truck load of boxes and bags I’d hauled into town from the White farm, and there was at least one more trip in my future. That would be the end of it… well, the end of getting it here. Then would come the beginning of sorting, organizing, cleaning, and finally, selling.

What had I got myself into?

I hopped onto the lift gate of Jimi’s truck and carefully nudged a box down the ramp I’d rigged with a couple of boards. The shiny blue 1960s Ford would always be ‘Jimi’s truck,’ even though he was gone (from the real world, anyway) and now Jimi’s truck had become my everyday vehicle. The box slid to the sidewalk and crashed into a mountain of similar boxes and heavy duty trash bags Edna and I had used to pack almost sixty years of fantastic fashions she’d collected and loved.

“Hey, Lyssa!” a cheerful voice called out, and I smiled and waved without looking. I was in a bit of a hurry. I had a meeting with Sam Coby and the architect we’d hired to rebuild Spirits, the bar I’d inherited and Sam managed, after it was partially destroyed in a fire a month ago. But first I wanted to get the truck unloaded and all the stuff tucked safely inside the Magpie, my vintage shop, before I hustled my butt down the Riverwalk.

“Baby girl, that’s New York thinking,” my dead father Jimi’s voice said in my ear. He’d become a chatty Cathy since his passing a few months ago. Unlike most ghosts, his form never materialized, other than the night of his passing. Now his ghostly specter was limited to vocal hauntings. Sometimes he was just chatty, other times he was downright useful. Recently he’d helped me solve two murders and avoid my own! I still wasn’t sure whether Jimi was actually haunting me, or if I was experiencing a minor mental breakdown and he was a figment of my imagination. In either case, I didn’t need to broadcast my potential looniness.

Regardless, ghost Jimi was right. I could leave everything sitting here in front of my shop for a whole day and when I returned, it would still be right where I left it, untouched. Or someone would stop by and straighten it, leaving a nice little path to my door. That’s the kind of place Bliss was.

“Lyssa? Lyssa Jones?” A voice I vaguely recognized said. She sounded closer than the previous person had been, so good manners demanded I pay attention. I raised my head, took a step backward, and dropped right off the lift gate. Luckily, I landed butt first in a pile of puffer jackets. Thank goodness for 80s fashion.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” The speaker rushed forward and offered a hand to pull me out. It was Cara Reed, a good friend from high school. I hadn’t seen her in years, but she looked great. Her straight sandy blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail at her nape, and her skin was as fresh as it had been in high school. She could get away with nothing more than mascara to emphasize her large brown eyes. She wore light blue linen capris and a white button-down shirt under what I recognized as a vintage crocheted vest that gave the casual outfit an unexpected splash of style.

“Cara! It’s so great to see you. How are you? Are you just visiting or have you moved home?” I dusted myself off and snuck a glance at my smart watch when it buzzed a subtle reminder. How could it already be so late? I’d given myself plenty of time! I wouldn’t be able to get everything inside, but it was a sunny, warm day, and I wouldn’t be gone long. It’s all good, I reminded my New York brain before Jimi had a chance to chime in.

Cara made a ‘yuck, Brussels sprouts’ face I remembered from the old days. “I’m good, mostly. I broke up with my boyfriend and lost my job so I decided to lick my wounds here. But I’m not ready to see my mother.” The ‘yuck, Brussels sprouts’ face intensified into a ’gross, liver’ face. “If I can find a job and a place to stay in town, that’d be great. If not, I’ll head up to the Twin Cities and try my luck there.”

“I have a meeting at Spirits, but walk with me?” I patted the back pocket of my jeans to be sure I had the keys for the truck and the store and tipped my head to show which way I was heading. “What kind of job are you looking for?”

Cara shrugged. “I don’t really care. I’ve been a graphic designer for years, but I need a break. I was going to see if the Bookmark was hiring but…” But the Bookmark had closed a while back. I was trying to persuade my aunt Maybee to reopen it, but she was up to her elbows with her new Secret Supper Dinner Club enterprise.

“You know, I need some help, if you have any interest in vintage clothes and accessories?” We moved to the side of the brick walk that ran along the shops of the Riverwalk, to give room to a family checking out the front window of Flour + Spoon, the bakery-slash-ice cream parlor. The indigo blue storefront had two doors and two large glass windows. The door on the left was under the word “Flour” and the door on the right was under the word “Spoon,” with each word surrounded by intricate white scrollwork designs that emphasized the shop’s old-fashioned feel. Through the large glass windows, the Flour side featured a bakery case, and on the Spoon side of the shop, a long ice cream case held thirty-something flavors of delectable frozen delight. Although Bliss Bakery had been around since the 1950s, it was bought two years ago by a woman named Evie Austin. She’d come up with the idea to bring the two treats together under one roof, and had updated the overall aesthetic, giving it a French boulangerie feel and old-world charm.

I waved to Edna White, our old high school English teacher, when she honked at us. “And you don’t mind working in retail. It’s a bit different than sitting at a computer all day.”

“Seriously? I love clothes! That would be heaven!” Cara laughed. “It might be dangerous heaven. Please tell me you don’t give employee discounts.”

I grinned. “You’d be the first employee, so we’d figure out the policies together.”

“If you’ll have me, I’d love to join you. Maybe I could do some marketing, too. I’ve built and managed a number of online stores.” Cara’s smile turned to a frown, and she sighed. “That just leaves the issue of somewhere to live. I refuse to go home. I haven’t quite figured out how to approach my mother about her plans for our family farm, but having a job and a place to live will give me breathing room to figure it all out.”

I nodded. “Totally get that. Until just a few months ago I had no idea what I wanted out of my future.”

We arrived at Spirits Blues Bar & Grill. Or what was left of Spirits.

“What the heck happened here?” Cara gaped at the blackened building that had been an anchor in Bliss for as long as anyone could remember. Now, the structure was just a shell, most of the external walls intact but discolored from smoke and water damage. The missing windows made it easy to see the inside was the bigger issue. The cleaning team had done an excellent job of removing the debris. Now it was just sad.

“There was a fire. Sam and I—she’s the manager—were nearly killed. It’s a long story. But we’re rebuilding.” I explained.

Sam, my pint-sized punk rock bar manager, was waiting, demolishing an ice cream cone. She smiled and headed toward us. Her short, spikey blond hair was tipped in Kelly green today. It was summer in Iowa, meaning hot and humid, so she was wearing shorts and a matching green tank top that showed off the beautiful floral tattoos on her arms. I wasn’t always a tattoo fan, but on Sam, it was literally art. “Hey, boss.”

I stuck my tongue out at her. I’d made her a partner in the business. Sure, it was a 51/49 split in my favor, but still. She liked to bring it up. “Cara, this is Sam Coby. Sam, this is Cara Reed. She’s just coming back to town after being gone a bit and is looking for a place to stay. Are you going to replace whatsherface?” I could never remember the name of Sam’s recently vacated roommate.

“Hadn’t decided, but I’m for sure open to talking about it,” Sam nodded. She smiled at Cara. “Lyss and I have to meet with an architect right now, but what about we catch up after? You gonna be around?”

Cara lifted a shoulder and smiled. “I don’t have anywhere to go but my car, so yes, I’ll be around! That ice cream looks amazing and I’m starving.”

I could tell Sam was ready to ask Cara to bring her another cone, and I shook my head. “Don’t even think about it.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Cream is an excellent sources of protein and calcium. Pistachios are nuts, and nuts are good for you.”

“Cara, give me your number and we’ll text you when we’re done.” I ignored Sam, whose attention had been caught by something else, anyway.

“Great! Talk in a bit,” Cara trotted back toward Flour + Spoon, and I turned to see what had caught Sam’s eye this time.