Mission Inn-possible 06 - Chocolate Chills Read online

  CHOCOLATE CHILLS

  A Mission Inn-possible Cozy Mystery Book 6

  ROSIE A. POINT

  CONTENTS

  Meet the Characters

  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

  What’s Next for Charlie and Gamma?

  Dear Reader,

  More for you…

  Copyright Rosie A. Point 2021.

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  MEET THE CHARACTERS

  Charlie Smith (Mission)—A spy-in-hiding, Charlie’s come to her grandmother’s inn in Gossip, Texas, under the guise of being an assistant. Really, she’s hiding out from her ex-husband, Kyle Turner, a rogue spy who is out to get her.

  Georgina Franklin (Mission)—Charlie’s super-spy grandmother who raised her. Georgina (or Gamma, as Charlie calls her) is the most decorated spy in the history of the NSIB. She’s retired, but still as smart and spry as ever.

  Brian Marble (Smulder)—Charlie’s agent partner who came to Gossip to keep her from getting into any more trouble than she is already. Handsome and smart, he usually does the right thing, even if it means hurting his friends. But with Charlie around, that’s becoming increasingly difficult.

  Lauren Harris—The happy-go-lucky chef at the Gossip Inn. A master baker, she’s always got a delicious cupcake prepared for the inn’s lunches and dinners. She’s jolly, with bright red hair she wears in pigtails. She recently had a baby.

  Jason Harris—Lauren’s perpetually stressed-out husband. Jason works a lot and doesn’t have a lot of time to hang out at home but tries his best. Short, with brown hair, and a bit of a belly.

  Jordan Ames—Once homeless, Jordan is now the live-in carer for the cats at the kitten foster center attached to the Gossip Inn. Red hair, often prone to sniffles, and keeps to himself.

  Cocoa Puff—Georgina’s chocolate brown cat. He’s friendly as can be, at least with people he trusts. Often sleeps on Charlie’s bed and accompanies her around the inn, helping her dust the various trinkets and tables.

  Sunlight—A ginger adolescent cat who stayed on in the kitten foster center. He is particularly attached to Charlie, who’s considering adopting him. Not that she can—she might have to leave soon…

  Jessie Belle-Blue—Jessie is Georgina’s worst nightmare. As the owner of the local cattery, she hates the fact that Georgina has opened a kitten foster center in direct competition to her. Will do whatever it takes to come out on top.

  Detective Crowley—The local detective who’s often saddled with the cases that Charlie and Gamma wind up investigating. May or may not have a stupendous, unrequited crush on Charlie.

  Hannah Greerson—The newest assistant in the kitten foster center in the Gossip Inn. She’s tiny but dynamite comes in small packages, as they always say. She doesn’t like Jordan Ames at all!

  Kayla Wart—One of the twin sisters currently staying in the inn. She’s sweet and kind but struggles to express her emotions with her sister.

  Josephine Wart—The angrier, meaner twin who doesn’t approve of most of what her sister does. She’s convinced that Kayla is always going to do the wrong thing. What can she do to stop her from making those mistakes?

  Dr. Barry Briggs—The local medical examiner. He works closely with the sheriff’s department, the DA, and the local detective, but has been acting a little strange of late. Why could that be?

  1

  “Operation Burger is a go. I repeat, Operation Burger is a go.” My grandmother’s voice came through my earpiece, soft but crystal clear.

  It was the signal that Brian, my boyfriend who was one of many special agents from the NSIB in and around the Gossip Inn, was out of the way. Occupied with a gardening emergency in the Shroom Shed—another of the inn’s eclectic spots.

  I scratched the resident cat, Cocoa Puff, behind his furry chocolate brown ears, then stowed my feather duster in the hall closet and made my way to the head of the stairs.

  “I’m inbound to the rendezvous point,” I breathed, the mic on my throat—a flesh-colored patch that was undetectable, even by the NSIB’s standards—picking me up.

  “Copy.”

  I moved down two flights of stairs, took a hard right, and entered the kitten foster center that was attached to the inn. My grandmother’s side project. The interior was empty at this time of the evening, most of the kittens curled up in their favorite spots. The doorway that led to the room where the youngest kittens were kept, fed, and incubated if they needed it, leaked light.

  Jordan Ames was the assistant on duty, but he napped between seven and eight in the evening.

  I paused to scratch my favorite kitty, Sunlight, behind the ears, then paused beside the back doors of the inn, not daring to peep out of the window next to them.

  This was it.

  It had boiled down to this moment.

  After an entire month of being trapped inside the inn, my every move monitored, with my boss, Special Agent in Charge Grant hiding out in the grounds and calling the shots, I was about to do it.

  It being a quick trip to the Hungry Steer to get a hamburger.

  While I adored everything our chef at the inn, Lauren, cooked up, I needed a reason to sneak out of the inn.

  It had been an entire month since I’d returned to the small town, Gossip, to find out that my rogue ex-husband, Kyle Turner, knew where I was and was on his way to exact his revenge. Since then, the NSIB had started their undercover operation, using me as bait, hiding out in the Gossip Inn’s grounds, and waiting to ambush my ex.

  Except he hadn’t showed up yet, and Special Agent in Charge Grant’s command was that I remain inside the inn’s grounds at all times.

  That meant I had done nothing in Gossip, had gone nowhere in a month. The locals had started gossiping about me, for Pete’s sake.

  The kitten foster center’s door opened, and my grandmother, dressed in black, entered.

  “How long do we have?” I whispered.

  “It’s confirmed. A window of five minutes,” Gamma answered me, evenly, and checked her watch.

  All around the inn, the agents who had been guarding it during the day shift would be swapped out at intervals of a minute each. That meant we had five sections to pass, five minutes total to make our way, quietly, toward the exit we’d chosen. A point along the inn’s walls near the front of the grounds.

  “I wish I could get down there.” Gamma, or Georgina as I called her in front of others, pursed her lips. Since the arrival of the agents, she’d shut down her secret armory. If the NSIB, her previous employer, found out that she had a stash of weapons, some of them illegal, she would be disciplined severely.

  Luckily, Gamma had a small amount of tech and weaponry she kept behind the false back in her closet.

  “Prepare yourself,” Gamma said. “We need to make this neat and quick. Once we’re out of the grounds, we remain on high alert in case of the mark’s appearance.”


  The mark was my ex.

  “We get to the target location, complete the operation, and return,” Gamma continued. “Once we’ve completed the operation, there’s nothing Grant or anyone else can do about our ‘lapse’.”

  “Yeah, what are they going to do? Lock me in the inn?” I rolled my eyes.

  What my grandmother was saying was that we’d escape notice until we’d gotten our burgers and returned to the inn. Along the way, we’d be on high alert for Kyle, but would most likely encounter nothing but the servers at the restaurant.

  “Ready?” Gamma asked. “We need to move in three, two—” She opened the door and exited the inn.

  I followed closely, my heart thumping against the inside of my rib cage.

  We hadn’t done a practice run, but my grandmother was the most decorated spy in the NSIB’s history. If anyone could pull off an untested operation, it was her. She had more years of experience than I’d been alive.

  We whispered along the back path near the inn, stopping when Gamma raised a fist. She was a shadow, barely noticeable, whereas I felt as obvious as an elephant in a tutu at a dance recital.

  Four stop-starts later and we reached the exit point along the wall of the inn. Gamma produced a length of cord and a carabiner, then looped it around my middle and clipped me onto another cord she’d affixed around her waist.

  She didn’t speak, but patted my arms, signaling that I hold on to her. We’d discussed this part of the plan before. She would grapple us over the wall, using the only grapple gun she had—she’d saved one in her false closet.

  Man, I hate grapple guns. I tightened my grip around my grandmother, the scent of her petal perfume settling my nerves.

  Gamma held up a gloved hand and counted down from five on her fingers. As she made a fist, my grandmother hit the trigger on her grapple gun and launched a projectile over the wall. She hooked it into the stone, tugged to make sure it was firmly lodged in place, then hit the second button.

  When I tried using the grapple gun like this, I’d shoot over the wall like a stone launched out of a slingshot.

  My Gamma, however, was a pro.

  We glided upward, walking along the wall, and dropped down on the other side of it gracefully.

  Gamma detached me from the cord.

  I sucked in a breath of night air, joy curling through my stomach.

  “We’re free!” I hissed.

  Outside the inn’s grounds. Away from the prying eyes of the NSIB task team.

  “We’re not out of the woods yet, Charlotte,” Gamma replied, in her prim British accent. “There’s no way Grant doesn’t have agents watching the road. It’s a long walk into Gossip, and we’ll have to set a swift pace if we want to get to the Hungry Steer before it closes.”

  “Fine by me.”

  “Check that bush.” Gamma pointed off to the side.

  I did as I was told and retrieved a duffel bag containing a change of shirt for both me and her, and a wallet holding enough cash for our meal.

  “Place your dark shirt and gloves in there and put it back in the bush. I’ll have Lauren bring it to me later. She knows better than to ask too many questions or check what’s inside the bag.”

  Quickly, my grandmother and I changed out of our dark shirts, gloves, and beanies and into a blouse apiece. Gamma fluffed her hair, applied a layer of light pink lipstick, then nodded. “Perfect. Let’s move.”

  I tossed the duffel bag into the bushes and followed her along the road that led from the inn.

  A shrub rustled along the path, and Gamma dropped into a defensive stance. Before I had the presence of mind to follow suit, a man stepped onto the street.

  “Really, Charlotte? Georgina? You thought I wouldn’t realize?” Special Agent in Charge Grant approached us, his jowls wobbling. The man had always reminded me of an over-sized Pitbull, and he’d never looked as threatening as he did now.

  “Hi, Grandpa,” I said, lamely raising a hand. Grandpa was our codename for him while we were at the inn.

  “Of all the irresponsible things to do!” He blustered, spittle flying from thin lips. “Of all the—are you so determined to endanger yourself that you would put the entire operation at risk? This is a matter of national security!”

  “I was just… look, it’s been a month, and our friend hasn’t showed up. Don’t you think we deserve time away from the inn?”

  “No,” he growled. “Not until you’re safe. Not until our friend has been apprehended. I’m disappointed in you, Georgina.”

  “But impressed we made it this far,” Gamma said, sniffing.

  Another growl from my boss. He bore down on us. “You’re never going to do this again. I’m always watching. Do you understand me? Always watching. For your safety.” He clicked his fingers and two other agents, clad in camo and bulletproof vests, materialized from the landscape.

  The first was tall, burly, and redheaded, while the other was dark-skinned and serious, a perpetual frown on his brow.

  “Ensure they return to the inn. Don’t be seen,” Grant commanded.

  The men saluted and marched over to us, one taking my arm roughly, the other placing a hand on Gamma’s shoulder.

  So much for Operation Burger.

  Even my Gamma couldn’t outsmart Grant and the NSIB, not without having all her equipment at her disposal.

  “And Charlotte? If you pull another stunt like this, I’ll make it so you’re not allowed to leave the building, let alone the grounds.”

  I didn’t dare look back at him in case he saw my anger.

  Could I take another month of this? I doubted it.

  Something had to change, fast. Maybe it was time I took matters into my own hands. Rather than waiting for Kyle to find me, why not go out and find him?

  2

  The following morning…

  Working at the Gossip Inn was a lot like herding cats. Ironic, since we had kittens to take care of. But the cats in this case were the people. There was always something going on. Either it was a guest who didn’t like another, or an argument between a husband at wife at breakfast, or Lauren was on the brink of passing out because she was so tired because of the baby. And her insufferable husband.

  Today was no different, and after last night’s operation failure and embarrassment, I wasn’t in the mood to be polite.

  “Idiot!” The cry had come from the kitten foster center’s incubation room.

  I stopped stroking Sunlight, my favorite kitty in the world—Cocoa was my grandmother’s cat and a close second—and straightened.

  Here we go again.

  “No need to be like that.” Jordan’s voice drifted from the room in reply to the shout. Jordan was our live-in assistant, here for the night shifts with the kittens and to help ease the process of adoption for interested parties.

  He was practically a fixture in the Gossip Inn at this point.

  My steps creaked on the wooden boards as I headed for the incubation room, with its half-door separating it from the primary area where the older kittens slept, played, and ate.

  Jordan, red-haired, pale, and wearing an oversized shirt, faced off against our newest assistant, Hannah Greerson.

  Hannah was a firecracker—a short, barely out of college young woman with a ton of sass. I liked that about her, though it caused problems with the other helpers in the center.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, the words snapping out of me. I took a breath, calming myself so I could maintain my cover: the wilting maid and server for the Gossip Inn, Charlotte Smith. “I mean, are you two all right?”

  “No,” Hannah replied, running fingers through her short platinum blonde hair so it stood on end. “Jordan is being weird again.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” he said, raising his palms. “I fed the babies as usual.”

  “Kittens! They’re kittens, not babies. You’re such a friggin’ weirdo.” Hannah said things how she saw them, even if she saw them in a distinctly rude manner. “I caught him watching
me, Miss Smith. He was watching me.”

  “Call me Charlotte,” I said.

  “I wasn’t watching her.” Jordan backed away from us like he could avoid the confrontation. “I was watching the kittens. That’s what I do.”

  I checked my watch. Lauren needed my help in the kitchen for breakfast, and I couldn’t mediate yet another argument between Hannah and Jordan. They hadn’t had a peaceful day since she’d started working at the center.

  “Look,” I said, “just avoid each other today, OK? And stop fighting. If you don’t, I’ll have to call Georgina to talk to you.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes. Jordan nodded.

  I left them to their tense silence, already tired, though I’d barely done anything except stew over the failure last night.

  The Gossip Inn’s kitchen was filled with glistening steel counters, the clock on the timid green wall ticking away, telling me I was a couple of minutes late. Lauren, her red hair tied up in a messy bun, stood at the rough wooden kitchen table, turning pages in her sacred recipe book.

  “Morning, Charlie,” she said, flashing me a bright smile. “How are you today?”

  “I’m good,” I lied. “How are you? How’s the baby?” Lauren had a four-month-old son, Tyson, and a husband whom I wasn’t a fan of.

  “Ty’s doing good. He’s a little angel now that he’s gotten into a sleeping rhythm.” Lauren tapped a page in her recipe book. “I think we’ll do chocolate cupcakes this week. With a raspberry coulis. Oh, and we’ll do eggs over easy, omelets, fresh-baked bread, bacon, and sausages for breakfast. What do you think?”

  I rolled up my sleeves and slipped an apron from the peg on the wall. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

  “Right. Let’s get working on the cupcakes batter and the bread dough.” Lauren checked her watch. “We’ll have to make it quick. We only have a couple hours to proof it.”

  Breakfast was at 9am this morning, and I was already starving. I distracted myself by following Lauren’s instructions exactly. We’d fallen into an easy pattern in the kitchen—Lauren enjoyed controlling how things were made, and I was useless at reading and following recipes. So, she told me exactly what she wanted, and I followed her words exactly.