Murder among the Palms

  The Birchwood Academy Files 3

  Murder among the Palms

  by

  Jade Astor

  Published by Jade Astor at Kindle Direct Publishing

  Copyright 2021 Jade Astor

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is strictly coincidental.

  Other titles by Jade Astor:

  The Birchwood Academy Files 1 (Murder at Birchwood Pond)

  The Birchwood Academy Files 2 (Murder in the Shadows)

  Snow Bite, Blood Red (Once Upon a Man 1)

  Bachelor and the Beast (Once Upon a Man 2)

  Ebb Tide

  Tapestry of Lust

  Darius (Moon Lake Wolves Book 1)

  Caleb (Moon Lake Wolves Book 2)

  Serge (Moon Lake Wolves Book 3)

  Artemis Gardens

  Passionate Lessons

  Passion Unmasked

  Journey to Passion

  The Birchwood Academy Files 3

  Murder among the Palms

  Now that his relationship with Sheriff Argo Sullivan is back on track, Darian looks forward to introducing him to his two mothers during his holiday break from teaching. Unfortunately, their romantic getaway to Florida soon turns out to be anything but relaxing. As soon as they arrive, Darian is shocked to find his family in disarray. Gabrielle Duval, a wealthy hotel owner, has given one of his moms a prestigious job and seems to have more on her mind than just business. Thanks to her meddling, the atmosphere at home is toxic with secrets, suspicion, and even talk of divorce.

  Before long, things go from bad to worse when Darian and Argo find Gabrielle murdered after a confrontation at a swanky holiday party. With the local police on the verge of arresting one or both of his moms, and Argo far from his own jurisdiction, Darian must solve yet another murder if he has any chance for a happy ending of his own.

  And speaking of domestic drama, what exactly is the reason for Detective Stuart Lanislaw’s special interest in Argo?

  Chapter 1

  “Tinsel and lights on palm trees?” Argo feigned amazement. They were driving through the center of Darian’s hometown, where festive decorations mixed the traditional with the tropical. One shopfront featured an entire row of life-sized plastic reindeer wearing colorful bathing suits and snorkeling gear. “Puts a whole new twist on the concept of a Christmas vacation.”

  “You haven’t lived till you’ve seen Santa and his elves decked out in Hawaiian shirts and aviator sunglasses. And don’t get me started on the socks and sandals.”

  “A gay man’s nightmare, for sure.”

  The two of them shared a laugh that turned a bit desperate on the last note. Behind the wheel, Angela Winter, one of Darian’s two mothers, joined in without enthusiasm.

  “I think I was ten years old before I ever saw a mitten in real life,” Darian tried again, leaning between the seats. He had insisted that Argo sit in the front with his mom, both so he could scope out the local landmarks and in hopes that his boyfriend and his mom would strike up a conversation. So far, it hadn’t been working too well—or, if he were being honest with himself, not at all. She had driven them from the airport in near silence, and the atmosphere in the car remained tense. “Do you remember, Mom?”

  Angela nodded without smiling. “We’d gone up north to spend Thanksgiving with Rikki’s cousins,” she recalled, her gaze focused on the road. “You thought they were baking mitts. You were so disappointed we ended up making chocolate chip cookies instead of building a snowman, the way we’d planned.”

  “I think, given the choice, I’d have gone for the cookies, too,” Argo said. “That was good thinking, Mrs. Winter.”

  “Call me Ange, please,” Darian’s mom said stiffly. “No need for formality. Darian has always called Rikki and me by our first names. It makes things easier. Otherwise we wouldn’t know which of us he was trying to wheedle.”

  Argo laughed while Darian struggled to come up with another witty anecdote, but after a twenty-minute drive that seemed to take hours, the well had run dry. He contented himself with pointing out his old high school, a restaurant where he once worked as a busboy, and a local park that had been his favorite hangout as a teenager. The entrance featured a life-sized statue of a mermaid riding a dolphin.

  “That caused quite a controversy when they first put it up,” he told Argo. “Some of our stodgier citizens objected to the fact that the mermaid was beckoning to passersby without a shirt on. A pair of strategically placed clamshells and a few strands of long hair weren’t modest enough for their tastes. No sooner did they back off than the local sea mammal rescue group joined in. They feared tourists might try to saddle up on some of our marine wildlife and go for a joy ride.”

  “They might have had a point there,” Argo said, thankfully preventing another awkward silence. “In my experience, there’s no telling what kind of crazy ideas people will try to act out.”

  Both Darian’s mothers considered themselves animal advocates, and the college where Angela—or Ange—taught maintained a bird rehabilitation center. He expected she would take Argo’s comment as an invitation to discuss her volunteer work there. But that subject, like all the others, dropped like a stone between the seats of Ange’s compact car.

  “I suppose working with the public must be frustrating,” was as far as she would go.

  “You have no idea,” Argo replied.

  At last, they pulled up at the coral-colored, fern-shaded house Darian still missed when the icy wind battered his drafty cottage late on those northern nights. Or at least on those nights when Argo wasn’t around to shield him from the cold.

  Right away, he noticed something missing. Rikki’s side of the driveway sat empty. He’d wondered why his other mom hadn’t come to the airport, but Ange had batted away his questions and he’d opted not to press. He assumed she would be waiting at the house, possibly baking a treat or preparing a meal to welcome him home. Six months had passed since he’d moved north to take a job as a private school teacher, and he had no doubt his moms missed him as much as he missed them. Yet only one of them showed up to meet his flight from Logan Airport in Boston.

  Ange seemed to read his mind as she parked. “Rikki had to work today,” she said before Darian could ask about her whereabouts again. “She has a lot to do at the hotel, dealing with the Christmas rush and getting ready for the big holiday party they’re throwing. She said to tell you she was sorry she couldn’t be here to greet you, Argo. But she promises to be home in time for dinner.”

  “Sure, no worries,” Argo said as the three of them got out of the car and retrieved their luggage from the trunk. Discreetly, he flashed Darian a questioning look. “If anyone understands about being called away for work at inconvenient times, it’s me.”

  “Yes, I suppose you would,” Ange agreed, leading the way to the house. Darian winced as he followed the two of them. Argo’s career in law enforcement, particularly when it placed Darian in the pathway of bullets as it had earlier in the fall, was a constant bone of contention between him and both his moms. Darian had cautioned Argo not to bring it up any more often than necessary. He suspected there would be no avoiding the issue for long, though.

  “This is nice,” Argo said once they stepped inside. He moved to the cen
ter of the living room, where he stood bathed in the bright, warm light pushing through the sliding glass doors. Beyond them lay the screened-in patio and sparkling blue pool Darian had anticipated sharing with him. Unfortunately, the reality of introducing Argo to the delights of Floridian life was proving much less satisfying than the fantasy. “Sunny.”

  “Yes,” Ange said. “Florida’s known for that. Hence the name The Sunshine State.”

  “Makes sense.”

  Darian, too, looked around in surprise. “No decorations yet? No Christmas tree?” He glanced at Argo, who had raised a brow. “Don’t worry, it’s not a palm tree draped with garlands. We’ve always had a fake pine, but it’s good quality. Looks perfectly real once it’s decorated. And no, to answer your question, I didn’t know there was any other kind when I was a kid. Not until I found out about mittens.”

  “We haven’t put anything up yet because Rikki’s been so busy at work,” Ange explained, sounding defensive rather than apologetic. “We agreed it would be better to wait until you were here. It could be something we all worked on together. Argo too.”

  “Sounds perfect to me,” Argo said, though once again, Darian was struck speechless. He could understand waiting on the tree, but not a single card or strand of tinsel anywhere? That wasn’t at all like the home he remembered growing up in—or even the home he had returned to as an adult in between starting college and meeting Argo. Holidays had always been a time of closeness and tradition. The house seemed downright cold despite the balmy climate.

  His mother seemed eager to change the subject.

  “Come on, then, and I’ll get you two settled.” She headed down the short hall that led to the bedrooms. Darian half expected her to direct Argo to the guest quarters, but instead she opened the door to Darian’s old room and waved them both inside. It hadn’t changed much since he’d gone away to college and then graduate school, though a plain blue quilt replaced the sailboat-patterned one he’d had back then, and the boy-band posters his teenaged self had tacked up were mercifully absent. A fresh coat of linen-colored paint and a trio of tastefully framed beachscapes covered the tack holes and tape residue.

  “Hopefully there’ll be enough space for the two of you.” At last, a touch of humor crept into his mom’s voice. “Darian’s grown a bit since he last stayed here, of course.”

  “Thanks,” Argo said, sliding their two suitcases toward the bed and dropping his duffel bag on the desk chair. “This is great. Actually, a concrete carport would be more comfortable than that tin can we flew in on. They really pack you in these days.”

  “I don’t get it either,” Ange said, finally warming to the conversation. “Plane tickets keep going up, but the price and the quality of the services has become inversely proportional. Anyhow, I’ll leave you boys to unpack and rest a little. Meanwhile, why don’t I make us some coffee?”

  “Won’t say no.” Argo turned his most charming smile on her. After a quick wave, Ange retreated and closed the door behind her. Heaving an exhausted sigh, Darian dropped onto the bed.

  “Whew! Congratulations on surviving your first encounter with my family, Argo. Glad that’s over with.”

  “I’m glad you’re feeling so confident.” Argo sat beside him, rubbing the stress lines that had formed on his forehead. “Then again, I don’t have much basis for comparison. I know you survived a weekend with Maddy and Warren, but I’ve never had to meet and impress anyone’s parents before—or one parent, in this case.”

  “Yeah, about that—I wonder where my other mom went. It never occurred to me she wouldn’t be here. Things must be really hectic at her job.”

  “Not too surprising, this time of year. Between the holiday parties and snowbirds checking in, hotels and restaurants are probably swamped. She’s pretty high up on the command chain, you said.”

  Darian nodded. “Assistant to the new owner, as of last month. Before that she managed the on-site restaurant.”

  “One rung up, I assume? At least doubly hectic. She must be good at what she does.”

  “She is. Still, she’s always made a point of being home for family occasions. I would say your first visit qualifies as one of those.”

  “Maybe she figured we’d need some time to unwind.” Argo’s mouth flattened into a grim, dark line. “Of course, there’s another possibility. I hate to say it, but it’s getting kind of hard to discount the idea.”

  “What do you mean?” Darian asked, though he had a fairly good idea what was coming.

  “Isn’t it obvious? They hate me.”

  “Hate you? Why would they?”

  “Don’t pretend to be shocked. I can handle it, and besides, I don’t blame you. In some ways, I don’t even blame them.”

  “There’s no question the shooting really threw them for a loop. I don’t see how they can hold you responsible for what happened at Victor’s place, though. I walked into that one all on my own.”

  “Let’s look at things from their point of view.” Argo held out one hand, the skin roughened from years of hard work in northeastern weather, and ticked off each reason on his fingers. “First, in their eyes, I’m taking their only child away from them. Second, I’m a cop, and they have some valid political issues with that. Third, and this is the big one, since you’ve met me, you keep stumbling over the bodies of murder victims. Now, I know I’m handsome and charismatic, not to mention financially solvent, even if I’m not rich. In spite of all that, if a guy like me started courting my son—or even my niece—I’d most likely have a problem, too. I can’t fault them for caring about your well-being, Darian. For what it’s worth, I do, too.”

  Argo smiled until the corners of his eyes crinkled, prompting a warm rush of emotion in Darian’s chest. Impulsively he pulled Argo against him and gave that chiseled mouth a grateful kiss. “That just might be the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, Argo. Thank you for being so understanding. I definitely plan to talk to both of them about their behavior toward you. If we’re going to make this work—and I’m not just talking about our Christmas and New Year’s vacation—we’ll need to set some ground rules.”

  “Don’t clash with them on my behalf. What I’m saying is, I get where they’re coming from, and I’m okay with them not trusting me. I’m willing to give it some time. I’ll work a little harder than I planned to win them both over. But I have no doubt I can do it. You know I’m always up for a challenge.”

  “I do, yeah. In fact, that’s one of the things I like best about you. And if you didn’t feel that way, you probably wouldn’t be here with me now in the first place.”

  “Exactly.”

  They kissed again, this time deeply and more seriously. Darian felt a flash of self-consciousness, knowing his mother was hovering nearby—maybe even listening in, for all he knew. That wasn’t like Ange normally, but something had changed since the last time he’d seen her.

  Clearly sensing his attention had wandered, Argo let go of him and leaned back.

  “Spill.”

  “Well… everything you said makes sense, but I’m beginning to think there’s more going on. I mean, I had plenty of friends my moms didn’t approve of when I was a kid, and I could usually tell when they just plain don’t like someone. This feels different.”

  “If you say so.”

  They looked up when they heard a tapping on the door.

  “Come in,” Darian called.

  Ange peeked in. “Sorry to interrupt. Thought you’d like to know Rikki’s pulling into the driveway. Guess she managed to tear herself away after all.”

  “We’ll be right out.” Darian turned back to Argo, who shrugged.

  “Show time,” Argo said.

  When Rikki came through the door, she greeted Argo with more enthusiasm than her wife. She even hugged him, once she got done nearly squeezing the life out of Darian.

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you first pulled up, honey. I just had so much going on at the hotel this morning that I couldn’t even catch my breath. I s
lipped away as soon as I could.”

  “We heard about the big party coming up at the hotel,” Darian said when he managed to extricate himself. “We know you’ve been hard at work planning it.”

  “Hard at work doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Rikki said. “People have no idea how much goes into something like that. They only see the end result. The prep takes ten times longer than the party itself if you’re doing it right. And the old saying holds true—if you want it done right, you have to do it yourself.”

  While they talked, Ange was busy arranging a pot of coffee and four cups on the kitchen table. Darian didn’t miss the scowl on her face as she poured out a fortifying dose of caffeine for each of them.

  “That’s not quite true, though. You have at least two reliable helpers,” she commented without turning around. “Darian, did you know Rikki’s got a couple of your old high-school buddies working for her?”

  “Oh yeah?” Darian asked with interest. “Who?”

  “Kyle Kirk and Zara Larsen,” Rikki said. “They’ve both been fantastic this week, though there’s only so much I dare to delegate.”

  “I’m sure Gabrielle appreciates your meticulous attention to detail,” Ange commented. “She’s Rikki’s new boss at the hotel. A rather forceful personality, to say the least. You’ll meet her soon enough, I’m sure.”

  “Anyway, we’re all going, so you’ll see the results firsthand.” Ignoring her, Rikki eyed Argo hopefully. “Do you dance, Argo?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “We’ll work on that. You need to experience the way we party Florida-style.”

  “I’d probably be of more use as a bouncer.” Extending his hands, Argo theatrically cracked his knuckles.

  “No way,” Rikki said as they took their seats around the table. “You’re our guest. Besides, we have all that contracted out.”

  “I look forward to it,” Argo said. “Darian always says I’m too set in my ways.”

  “A change of scene never did anyone any harm.” Darian winked at his moms. “Look at me. I adapted to cold weather way better than any one of us ever expected. Luckily, someone sent me lots of fuzzy fleece sweaters and flannel-lined clothes from one of those outdoor-living catalogs.”