Murdered in the Man Cave (A Riley Reed Cozy Mystery)

By R. Barri Flowers

Copyright 2014 by R. Barri Flowers at
Smashwords. All rights reserved.

Cover Image Copyright 2014 by
Photoff

Used under license from
http://www.shutterstock.com

MURDERED IN THE MAN CAVE: A Riley Reed Cozy
Mystery is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are
used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
business establishments, or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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 Smashwords.com
and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work
of this author.

To the love of my life and my very best
friend in the whole world, the Mermaid.

And to fiction fans, Elaine Moreau and
Vincent Abbatiello; as well as to all lovers of cozy
mysteries—enjoy this one!

* * *

OTHER BOOKS BY R. BARRI FLOWERS

FICTION

Before He Kills Again (A Veronica Vasquez
Thriller)

Dark Streets of Whitechapel (A Jack the
Ripper Mystery)

Dead in the Rose City (A Dean Drake
Mystery)

Fractured Trust (A Renee Steele Legal
Mystery)

Justice Served (A Barkley and Parker
Mystery)

Killer in The Woods (A Psychological
Thriller)

Murder in Honolulu (A Skye Delaney
Mystery)

Murder in Maui (A Leila Kahana Mystery)

Persuasive Evidence (A Jordan La Fontaine
Legal Thriller)

Seduced to Kill in Kauai (An Exotic
Thriller)

State's Evidence (A Beverly Mendoza Legal
Thriller)

TEEN FICTION

Christmas Wishes: Laura's Story (A Young
Adult Holiday Fantasy)

Count Dracula's Teenage Daughter (A
Transylvanica High Novel)

Danger in Time (A Young Adult Time Travel
Mystery)

Ghost Girl in Shadow Bay (A Young Adult
Haunted House Mystery)

Out for Blood (A Transylvanica High
Novel)

Summer at Paradise Ranch (A Young Adult
Adventure Series)

Teen Ghost at Dead Lake (A Young Adult
Haunted House Mystery)

TRUE CRIME

Masters of True Crime: Chilling Stories of
Murder and the Macabre (editor)

Murders in the United
States:
Crimes, Killers, and Victims of the
20th Century

Serial Killer Couples: Bonded by Sexual
Depravity, Abduction, & Murder

The Sex Slave Murders: The True Story of
Serial Killers Gerald & Charlene Gallego

TRUE CRIME SHORTS

Dead at the Saddleworth Moor: The Crimes of
Ian Brady & Myra Hindley

Killers of the Lonely Hearts: The Tale of
Serial Killers Raymond Fernandez & Martha Beck

Mass Murder in the Sky: The Bombing of Flight
629

Murder at the Pencil Factory: The Killing of
Mary Phagan 100 Years Later

Murder of a Star Quarterback: The Tragic
Tale of Steve McNair & Sahel Kazemi

The Pickaxe Killers:
Karla Faye Tucker &
Daniel Garrett

The Sex Slave Murders 2: The Chilling Story
of Serial Killers Fred & Rosemary West

* * *

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

Ph.D in Murder - Bonus Cozy Mystery Short
Story

About the Author

* * *

CHAPTER
ONE

I went for my daily two-mile run at six in
the morning along the sandy beach, taking in the fresh autumn air
of Cozy Pines, Oregon. Located about 160 miles from Portland, the
population of Cozy Pines is less than 18,000. This grew by several
hundred people every year when spring breakers come and then the
summer vacation crowd flocks in, seeking an alternative to
better-known coastal towns, such as nearby Lincoln City and
Seaside. Those who call Cozy Pines home permanently are attracted
to its year round mild weather, ocean fishing, bicycling, hiking,
whale watching, and many festivals and exhibits.

Most locals are laidback, friendly, and
active. Many are retirees, while others have decided to live here
because it's a nice place to settle down and raise a family. I fit
somewhere in between, having lived in Cozy Pines for most of my
forty-three years. Never married and childless, the last serious
relationship I had was nearly a decade ago. Brent London nearly
stole my heart with his good looks, charm, and knack for the
unpredictable. The fact that he was a brilliant mystery novelist
was an added bonus. But, in the end, things didn't work out for us.
Instead of me becoming wife number three, we decided that
friendship would be far more enduring, which had proven to be the
case as Brent had remained one of my dearest friends over the
years.

I ran down the beach, creating fresh
footprints in the damp sand, and then headed home. As usual, my
mind was racing as I thought of fresh ideas for my popular blog
that offered advice on home décor and renovation. On the side, I
offered my services as a design consultant, equipped with a
master's degree in interior design. My parents left me a small
inheritance that afforded me the opportunity to live my life
according to my own terms, for better or worse.

Just as I turned onto my street, Hollow Lane,
I approached my neighbor and friend, Annette Buckner. She was
walking her poodle. For some reason unbeknownst to me, she had
named it Mama.

Annette was about my height, but a little
heavier. Her short blonde hair was a shade lighter than mine, which
was shoulder length. She was two years older than I was, but could
have passed for someone younger. I suspected that her husband Fred,
who was three years younger, admired that quality in her.

I had already begun my cool down trot, and
decided to come to a complete halt when I reached her, since my
house was only five houses away.

"Hey," I said, wiping sweat from my
forehead.

"Good morning," she responded.

Mama barked playfully.

I smiled as the dog brushed against my leg.
"Hello to you, too."

"I'm so envious that you run all the time,"
Annette said, "which has obviously paid off."

I smiled. What she didn't know was that
running could only go so far. Diet, other forms of exercise, not
smoking, and only moderate drinking of wine had a lot to do with
it.

"You could always join me," I suggested,
having done so before, only to have it fall on deaf ears.

She frowned. "I know, but that just isn't for
me. With tendonitis in my knee, I'd never be able to keep up."

"Well, I had to ask," I told her
politely.

Annette forced a smile. "So will you be at
the book club meeting tomorrow night?"

"Of course," I said. Annette and I, along
with several other women and one man, got together once a month to
discuss a book selection for all of us, as well as recommendations
for other titles.

"Great," Annette said. "Well, I have to get
going now."

I had a feeling it was the other way around,
as Mama seemed eager to get moving and perhaps do her thing
somewhere.

My eyes, blue with gold flecks, twinkled.
"Okay, I'll see you later. And you too, Mama."

The dog barked once as if it understood me
perfectly.

I started to walk away when I heard Annette
say, "Oh, by the way, that was a great piece of advice on your blog
about installing glass front cabinets to replace the old ones that
hide everything inside. Fred liked it, too."

I was happy to hear that, coming from a
friend. "Thanks. It seemed like a practical solution for keeping
your cabinets organized, along with an attractive alternative to
the typical cabinet doors."

"I agree," Annette said. She glanced down at
Mama and then gave me an apologetic look for keeping me from moving
on again, which in this case I had no quarrel with.

We said our goodbyes again and I headed
home.

* * *

I lived in a two-story cottage style home
that I purchased seven years ago. I was taken by its turn of the
20th century charm and its solid build that could easily withstand
coastal storms. The fact that it had been upgraded with granite
countertops, cypress hardwood flooring, and other modern amenities
won me over.

Much of the morning and afternoon was spent
working on my blog and checking in on my stock portfolio, which had
seen both better days and worse. After doing some household chores,
it was evening and time to go to the local community college where
I was taking a course in art and design. With a lifelong dream of
being a landscape and seascape artist, this was the first step in
making my dream come true.

I arrived at Elk Community College at a
quarter to six, giving me more than enough time to park my Subaru
Forester and walk to the Art Center. I was halfway there when I
spotted Emily Peterson up ahead. She was Brent London's
twenty-three-year-old niece. After his sister and brother-in-law
died tragically eight years ago in a car accident, Brent had
stepped up as Emily's only living relative and taken her in,
becoming her legal guardian. She had proven to be a handful at
times, with an on and off drug problem, landing her in and out of
rehab. In spite of this and, as Brent had put it, her tendency to
hang out with the wrong crowd, he continued to this day to provide
for her and give her a place to live, trying to do right by his
sister.

Emily was talking animatedly to a young man
and vice versa as I approached them. They stopped abruptly, turning
my way.

I made myself smile while saying to Emily, "I
thought that was you."

She seemed to force a smile of her own.
"Hey."

Emily was tall and model thin with long red
hair and green eyes. According to Brent, she was the spitting image
of his late sister, whom I'd never met.

I studied the man she had been talking to. He
was even taller, of medium build, and bald headed with a dark
goatee. He met my eyes with what I could best describe as a hard
look.

"This is Tony Sullivan," Emily said. "And
this is Riley Reed. She's a friend of my uncle's."

"Hey," he muttered.

"Hi, Tony." I had a feeling he would rather
be elsewhere or perhaps would prefer that I move on, so they could
get back to their heated conversation. I was about to oblige them,
but Emily seemed to prefer that he move along.

"I'll catch up with you later," she told
him.

He nodded. "Yeah, later." After giving me
another sharp look, he walked away.

"Hope I wasn't interrupting anything," I
said, though curious nonetheless.