Cappuccino (A Zion Sawyer Cozy Mystery Book 1) Read online

  Cappuccino

  A Zion Sawyer Cozy Mystery

  Volume 1

  ML Hamilton

  www.authormlhamilton.net

  Cappuccino

  © 2016 ML Hamilton, Sacramento, CA

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed by a newspaper, magazine or journal.

  First print

  All Characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  To my readers, this new series is dedicated to you. I believe I’ve taken the best of the Peyton Brooks’ Mysteries and the Avery Nolan Adventures to embark on a new cozy mystery series.

  As always, thank you for your continued loyalty.

  And all my love to my family.

  “I like cappuccino, actually. But even a bad cup of coffee is better than no coffee at all.”

  ~ David Lynch

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  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

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  Zion’s phone rang on her desk. Staring at her computer screen, she reached up blindly and clicked on the headset, connecting the call, then she said, “Zion Sawyer, Judicious Insurance, how can I help you?”

  “Ms. Sawyer, I’m David Bennett from the Bennett, Coleman & Cox Law Firm.”

  Zion stared at the display on the desk phone. She didn’t recognize the number. “Excuse me? Who did you say you were?”

  “I’m David Bennett. I’m a lawyer in Sequoia, California.”

  “Sequoia, California?” Zion frowned. She’d never heard of such a place, but then she didn’t know a lot of the little tourist towns that dotted the northern part of the state. “Where’s that?”

  “We’re east of Visalia, up in the Sierras.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.” She smoothed a hand over her straight auburn hair.

  “Our population hovers around 15,000 permanent residents, but during summer and ski season, we climb to 20,000 or so.”

  “Wow.” Zion’s attention was drawn back to her computer as she reviewed the most current formulary list. “How can I help you, Mr. Bennett?”

  “I’m calling on behalf of your mother.”

  “My mother?”

  “Your biological mother.”

  That got Zion’s attention. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not interested, Mr. Bennett.”

  “I understand that, but if you’d just hear me out.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bennett. That woman gave me up for adoption twenty-six years ago and never had a part in my life. My mother is Gabrielle Sawyer and that’s the only mother I’ve ever known. I appreciate you calling, but I’m not interested in anything to do with that other woman.”

  “She’s dead, Ms. Sawyer.”

  Zion went still. For some reason, that statement wasn’t sinking into her brain. She blinked a few times, then exhaled. “Well, condolences to her family. Thank you for calling, Mr. Bennett, but I’m very busy right now and I need…”

  “She named you as her only beneficiary in her will.”

  That also brought her to a stop. Beneficiary? Why would she do something like that? Zion had never had contact with her, although she knew her parents had kept in touch throughout the years. Zion herself had never felt the need to know anything about her, though.

  She shook herself. “Again, I’m not interested.” She didn’t need anything from a woman who’d tossed her away like unwanted baggage when she was an infant.

  “What if I wanted to give you a million dollars?”

  “Do you want to give me a million dollars?”

  “No,” said Bennett in defeat.

  Zion thought as much. “Thank you for informing me, Mr. Bennett. I appreciate the call, but I’m very busy.”

  “Listen, I know this is a bit of a shock.”

  “Not really.”

  “Ms. Sawyer, please listen to me. Take down my number and think this over. Then give me a call. Nothing has to be decided today, but I do need you to call me before the week is out.”

  Zion sighed. Her real mother, Gabrielle, would be annoyed if she didn’t show this man the basic courtesy he deserved. She grabbed a pen out of the holder on her desk, dragged her notepad over to herself, and clicked the pen on. “Okay, Mr. Bennett. Give me the number.”

  He rattled it off. “Please think about this, Ms. Sawyer. You are the beneficiary of your mother’s entire estate.”

  “Estate?” she said skeptically. “Fine. I’ll keep it in mind, but I really have to go now. Again, I appreciate the call.”

  She disconnected the phone and sat staring at the number she’d written on the pad. She wasn’t sure how she felt, but she didn’t feel grief. How did you feel grief over what you’d never known? She didn’t know this woman and her death, while empirically sad, really had no effect on her whatsoever.

  Rebekah poked her head around the corner of Zion’s cubicle. “Where do you want to go for lunch?”

  Zion tore off the paper and pulled open her lower desk drawer, shoving it into her Cartier handbag. “What about Alta?”

  “Perfect.” Rebekah’s heavily lashed dark eyes narrowed on Zion. “You look upset. Don’t frown. It creates wrinkles.”

  Zion smoothed her fingers over her brow. She didn’t need wrinkles to add to her abundant freckles. Besides, she couldn’t lie. She’d always been envious of Rebekah’s olive skin and perfect complexion. Her mix of Pakistani and white blood blended to give her straight shining black hair, dark exotic eyes, and creamy naturally tanned skin. She and Zion were nearly the same height at 5’6”, neither short nor tall, but Rebekah’s curves were in all the right places, while Zion’s were…well, bustier. The latest fashions that they both coveted draped over Rebekah’s frame, while Zion always looked like she was about to give someone a peep show.

  “So, what’s wrong?” Rebekah waved a manicured hand.

  “That was a lawyer for…” She hesitated. Rebekah knew she was adopted. That hadn’t been anything neither Zion’s parents nor she hid from anyone, but it wasn’t something she discussed regularly either. “…my biological mother. She’s dead.”

  Rebekah gasped and covered her mouth. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry.”

  Zion waved her off. “It’s nothing, Becks. I never knew the woman. What’s there to be sorry about?”

  Rebekah leaned closer as if she were sharing a secret. “It’s still your mother. If I lost my mother, I’d be devastated.”

  Zion raised a brow at that. Rebekah was regularly at war with her mother. Veda wanted her daughter to get married and settle down, but Rebekah was having too much fun in the City by the Bay to do any such thing.

  “How are you taking it?”

  “I’m fine.”

  When Rebekah gave her a skeptical look, Zion held up her own manicured hand. “I’m really fine. Look, Becks, if we want to go to lunch at noon, I’ve got to review these formularies and make sure they’re accurate.”

  “Sure. I’ll be just over there if you need me.”

  Zion waved goodbye to her and Rebekah reluctantly walked back to her cubicle. Turning to the computer, Zion tried to concentrate on the screen, but her mind kept going back to the conversation with the lawyer. Her mother had made her sole beneficiary of her estate. What the hell did that mean? What estate? What had she left her?

  Probably some moldy old clothes and an equally moldy trailer.

  She shuddered and drove the thought out of her head. Whatever it was, Zion certainly didn’t need it.

  * * *

  Zion reached over the counter and snagged a cherry tomato out of the salad, popping it in her mouth before Gabrielle could slap her hand. She crunched it, then lifted her wine glass and took a swig. On Wednesday nights she left San Francisco and drove out to San Bruno where she had dinner at her parents’ house. It was a routine they’d maintained since she returned from college.

  She heard the front door open, followed by the scrabble of her parents’ terrier on the wooden floor.

  “There’s my big boy,” came her father’s booming voice.

  “In the kitchen,” called her mother, reaching for the salad tongs.

  A moment later, Joseph Sawyer appeared in the kitchen archway, holding a wiggling Rascal in his arms. “Hey, kiddo,” he said, moving toward Zion and kissing her on the top of the head.

  “Hey, Daddy,” she said, taking Rascal from him.

  The scruffy brown wiggle worm licked Zion’s chin. She settled him on her lap and took another sip of wine as she watched her father circle around the counter to give his wife a kiss. Zion had always envied her parents’ marriage. They’d outlasted most of her friends’ parents and even a few of her friends. Zion herself hadn’t had the
best luck in romance. Her latest boyfriend had lasted a full year, longer than the others had, but it had still ended badly. Her parents, however, were still as devoted to each other as they’d been thirty years before.

  “How was work?” asked Gabi.

  “You know how it is in the salt mines,” Joe said, reaching for a cherry tomato himself.

  Gabi swatted at him too, but he danced away before she could get him. Not that she tried very hard.

  Zion smiled. Joe Sawyer was a hospital administrator. Gabi had been an emergency room nurse until she’d retired last year. Now she’d taken up piano playing, a hobby that caused poor Rascal dismay. Zion had caught the little terrier howling this very night as she arrived at her parents’ door, only to hear the discordant tones coming from the living room.

  “How did your lesson go today?” asked Joe.

  Gabi shrugged. “Roger said I’m improving.”

  Joe shot a look at his daughter. Zion ducked her head, hiding her smile. Improvement up from abysmal was still in the lower registers of awful. In the last year, Gabi had tried her hand at a number of things. There’d been canning and macramé, and who could forget the disastrous attempts at reupholstering. Her father said many times that he hardly missed his favorite recliner anymore.

  Gabi shoved a glass of wine at him. “Try this. Zion brought it.”

  He took a sip, then smacked his lips. “Very nice bouquet.”

  Zion rolled her eyes. Her father didn’t know a damn thing about bouquet or really anything to do with wine. He was a domestic beer man, always had been.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said and disappeared into the hallway to change out of his business suit.

  Zion settled Rascal on the floor, giving his ear a scratch. “Can I help you with anything?”

  “Not a thing. We just need the lasagna to finish cooking, then I’ll put in the garlic bread.” Gabi lifted her wine glass. “So, how was work?”

  Zion chewed her inner lip. She wanted to talk to her parents about the strange call she’d received today, but she didn’t want to hurt them. Although they’d been open about her adoption and had urged her to talk to them about it, she’d always feared it might hurt them if she seemed too curious about her biological parents.

  Gabi set down the wine glass, eying Zion closely from behind her wire-framed glasses. “Zion?”

  “I got a strange call today.”

  “Go on.” Then Gabi’s face twisted. “Oh, lord, you didn’t hear from Lucas, did you?”

  Lucas Walters had been Zion’s last boyfriend, he who’d lasted that full year.

  “No, no.” She took another sip of her wine. “God no.” The relationship had ended when she caught Lucas stealing from her mother’s purse during a weekend visit over the holidays.

  Joe came into the room, moving to the refrigerator and pulling it open. He took out a can of beer and popped it open, walking around the counter to take a seat on a barstool next to Zion. “What are we talking about?”

  “Zion got a strange phone call today,” said Gabi, moving aside the salad bowl and leaning on the counter.

  “Oh, from who?”

  “Whom,” corrected Gabi.

  “Whom? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, dear, I’m sure.”

  Zion didn’t interrupt them. Maybe if they went off on a tangent, she could avoid telling them about the call, but Gabi had a mother’s intuition and she knew something was bothering Zion.

  “Back to the call,” she prompted.

  “It was from a lawyer in Sequoia, California.”

  Gabi frowned. “Where’s Sequoia?”

  “I know where it is,” said Joe.

  “No, you don’t,” scolded Gabi, “you just think you do.”

  “You don’t know all the places I know.”

  “Okay, then where is Sequoia?”

  “It’s in…California,” said Joe, taking a swig of beer.

  Zion smiled at that. God, she loved both of them so much and didn’t want to hurt them.

  Gabi shook her head. “I swear,” she grumbled, then her attention zeroed in on Zion again. “Go on, dear,” she urged.

  “Sequoia’s east of Visalia,” Zion said for her father’s benefit.

  “Exactly what I thought,” he answered.

  “Mmmhmmm,” said Gabi.

  “He said…” Zion’s voice faltered and she glanced at the two of them. They’d always been enough for her. She’d never felt the need so many adoptive kids felt to find their biological families, but that didn’t mean her parents weren’t concerned about it. “He said my biological mother died.”

  Gabi and Joe went still. Zion felt both of their eyes fixated on her and she wanted to squirm. Then Gabi blindly reached for her wineglass and took a swig.

  “I’m so sorry, kiddo,” said Joe, draping an arm over her shoulders and pulling her against him. “That must have been a shock.”

  “How did she die?” asked Gabi.

  “I don’t know. He didn’t say. I mean the lawyer didn’t say.” Zion leaned into her father and ran a finger over the top of her wine glass. “He said I was her sole beneficiary, but I told him I wasn’t interested.” She gave her mother a speculative look. “Weren’t you in touch with her?”

  “We haven’t spoken in years. I think the last communication was during your high school graduation. I sent her some graduation pictures.”

  “Where was she living then?”

  Gabi thought for a moment. “I think it was Los Angeles, now that you mention it.”

  “What do you think it means that I’m her sole beneficiary? What do you think she could have possibly had?”

  “Maybe some family jewelry,” said Joe.

  “She might have squirreled away a little money,” offered Gabi.

  Zion shrugged, picking up her wine glass again. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care what it was. They can give it to charity.”

  “I don’t think it works that way, kiddo,” said her father. “I think you’ll have to give it away yourself.”

  “Why?” Zion realized her voice came out sharper than she intended. “She was nothing to me.”

  “She was your biological mother, Zion,” said Gabi in that mother’s disapproving tone.

  “What does that mean? You’re my parents. You’re the only parents I’ve known. She gave me up.”

  “She gave you to us,” said Gabi reasonably. “I have always loved her for the gift she gave us.”

  “She did what she thought was best for you, kiddo. That was a pretty big sacrifice. She made us a family,” said Joe.

  Leave it to her parents to get all schmaltzy and emotional. This was the very reason she adored them. They were such nerds. She leaned over and kissed her father’s cheek, then covered her mother’s hand with her own.

  “I love you goofy hippies,” she said, laughing.

  Gabi smiled in return and Joe hugged her tight. Grasping Zion’s hand in both her own, Gabi leaned on the counter. “I think you should call that lawyer back. Do you remember his name?”

  “He made me write down his number on a piece of paper at the office.”

  “Then you call him tomorrow.” Gabi squeezed her hand and released her, turning to the stove and grabbing a pot holder. She opened the oven and picked up the garlic bread on its cookie sheet, shoving it on top of the lasagna.

  Zion watched her complete these familiar chores, thinking about the lawyer and a mother she’d never met. “What was she like?”

  Gabi went still for a moment, then she closed the oven and removed the pot holder, setting it on the counter. Joe’s arm slipped off Zion’s shoulders and he picked up his beer, swigging it.

  Zion glanced between them. “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

  Gabi smiled, her eyes crinkling behind her glasses. She was shorter than Zion, about five three and pear shaped, more hips than bust. Her short shag had started to grey, but it was a silvery grey that complemented her dark blue eyes. Her natural hair color had been black, which had always drawn attention when she and Zion went out in public because Zion’s own hair trended more toward red/orange unless she added a burgundy wash to it.

  “She had the most glorious head of red curls,” she said.

  “And freckles, so many freckles. They were adorable,” added Joe.

  Zion scoffed at that. She hated her own freckles and her inclination to burst into flames like a damn vampire if she got the least bit of sun on her.