Wobbly Westin

By Jennifer Oberth

Ella is enjoying a leisurely New Year’s morning when a nagging thought makes her search for her pirate father-in-law, Jasper. She finds him in an odd quandary and does her best not to double over laughing. When he requests her help with an unusual task, how can she say no? Really, how can she?

This is the 9th story in the Ella Westin Mysteries.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jennifer Oberth
• Release date: Dec 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215917350

Jennifer Oberth

Jennifer Oberth is a sweet, gorgeous, intelligent gal with a great sense of humor. She likes long walks on the beach. Oh, this is an Author Bio? In that case… Ahem, Jennifer Oberth is a sweet, gorgeous, intelligent gal with a great sense of humor. She likes to take long walks on the beach where she thinks up delicious ways to murder people and give them motives, means, opportunities and fake alibis. Don't randomly ask her what she's thinking because she'll tell you. She doesn't want a repeat of that time she was with a group of strangers and she blurted out her frustration at her car. "How on earth am I expected to kill somebody in the woods without being seen when I can't turn off the automatic headlights?" She didn't know why they shrank back and gave her a wide berth the rest of the evening. She didn't know why no one offered advice to get around this tricky annoyance. It's a coincidence she then started writing cozy mysteries set in 1875… Jennifer Oberth (the sweet, gorgeous, intelligent gal with a great sense of humor) has two cats (Copper & Outlaw). When she's not at work, cursing the computer when it doesn't work, she can be found at home, cursing the computer when it doesn't work.

Book preview

The Wobbly Westin

Ella Westin #9

By Jennifer Oberth

Copyright 2023 by Jennifer Oberth

Smashwords Edition

Cover by Ellie Oberth

http://www.jenniferoberth.com

Dedication

To my Cozy Crew

You ladies are awesome and so inspiring!

You keep me motivated and loving writing and you ladies made me believe in writing groups once again!

Acknowledgements

I thank my wonderful beta readers for their tireless attention to my words and the stories I weave. Thank you, Sabrina, Susi, Cammie, Dan E., Renae, Aunt Sue, and Mom. You make my books better. You call me to be a consistently better writer, and I’m forever grateful.

Table of Contents

Wobbly Westin

The Ella Westin Mystery Series

# 10 A Sister’s Sense (Pre-order now!)

Other Books by me!

Mystery Books by Ellie Oberth

Debut Mystery by Renae Janacek

Connect With the Author

Disclaimer, Credits, and License Statement

Ella Westin #9

The Wobbly Westin

Name: Ella Westin

Date of Incident: December 31, 1827—January 1, 1828

Location: Port Bass, Maine

Mission: Help Jasper without laughing

Report Filed: Nowhere/Extra Private Files/To Read When Feeling Low

Incident: Jasper is missing something rather important

New Year’s Day sailed in quickly, with harsh sunlight and a fresh layer of snow blanketing the quiet world outside my doors. I could comfortably say my doors now as I’d lived in Jasper’s mansion long enough. It was 1828, and this would be the first complete year I’d live here. In my new home. With my new husband. And my new pirate father-in-law and sly sister-in-law. And then there was Annie and Copra, fellow housemates we’d picked up along the way. I’d picked up along the way.

After ringing in the new year at a boisterous party with my husband, boss, fellow government agents, and friends, I withdrew for the comfort of my own bed. My husband, Joe, had stayed the night with the boss guarding a particularly unliked agent who’d gotten himself into trouble. Again.

My sister-in-law, Doris, had traveled up north with friends. I decided not to think about what mischief they were getting into.

Annie Grainger’s plans included staying locked in her room sans celebration in a bid to spur me into quicker action regarding springing her fiancé—Alvin St. James—out of jail. The problem was I was doing everything I could think of to free him safely. He’d killed a criminal in self-defense, but the deceased criminal’s cohorts posed a constant danger to both St. James and his bride-to-be. Annie seemed to understand this logically but then she’d grow weepy. I understood her position. She was to have been a Christmas bride and now she was bringing in the new year alone.

The first thing I had to do was find out who’d replace the dear departed criminal now that he was deceased, but I couldn’t find that out. The vacancy would’ve been filled immediately, but no one seemed to know who was currently in charge.

That did not bode well for any of us.

I breathed in the scent of my paprika-laced eggs. Copra had cooked them for me with a mess of parsnips and potatoes and a hash of carrot accompanied by big chunks of bread and cheese. It was a lovely breakfast in one of the warmest rooms of the mansion—the kitchen—but I had no one to share it with.

I blinked around the warm room tucked away in a corner near a large window with a stunning view of the outside. The expanse of land beyond glistened with cruel crystals, naked trees covered in snow, the stable barely holding its own against the pitiless winter. The whistling wind threatened to blow in more snow and chill.

Hovering over the plate of steaming eggs, I steeled myself. Why was it so quiet inside? It was eerie. Unnatural. I liked silence. I was used to being alone—waking up alone, eating alone, mornings alone.

I glanced across the table where Jasper usually perched on his cherry wood chair. It had become a habit that the old pirate would take breakfast with me. I wasn’t one of those people who could greet the morning with a song in my heart and lightness in my step. Especially not a wintry morning. I usually let my husband go to work before me and joined him later. Getting ready by myself was a custom I enjoyed. By the time I fully woke up, I’d invariably be sitting across the table from Jasper having a spirited conversation about…well, anything, really.

Had I grown so accustomed to the old goat I actually missed him?

No. Of course not. I’d just gotten used to it, that was all.

Like a bad habit. Quite a noisy habit. One I could do well without. I stabbed at my eggs.

Where was he?

Before Copra had left for the Stoker mansion, he said he hoped Jasper wouldn’t suffer a terrible headache when he awoke. He’d laughed, set two plates of eggs, veggies, bread, and cheese on the table in our usual spots, and bid me a good day. Then off he went on his merry way, excited to cook for his mother on the first day of the year. He left the mansion with a song in his heart and lightness in his step.

I never understood people like that. It was bad enough being a cheerful person in the dead of winter after a hard life—but to do so in the morning was downright bizarre.

Barnaby Stoker was another cheerful human being, and I suspected he’d be joyful in the dead of winter at the crack of dawn even if he’d not led a charmed life full of rich food, family, and money.

I only hoped Stoker wasn’t making a play for Copra. He was the best cook I’d ever come across and, while he was a little excitable in personality, he more than made up for it in fierce loyalty and good humor. If Stoker’s cook was allowing Copra to use the kitchen in Stoker’s mansion, it must have been on an order from Stoker himself. If he was trying to lure Copra to work for him instead of us, we might be in trouble.

Where was Jasper?

I clutched my woolen jade robe closed over my golden flannel nightdress, the sudden chill in the air bothering me more than it should. Probably because Jasper’s incessant morning speeches usually distracted me from the relentless cold seeping in through the stone walls, even the heat from the stove unable to fight against it.

When Copra attempted speaking to me this morning, all I did was grunt back, not really hearing a word except when he set food in front of me. He could’ve said the house was on fire and I’d have grunted, wondering where my eggs were.

I didn’t miss Jasper’s company of course. I was merely growing concerned he hadn’t shown up. It wasn’t like him. Getting so drunk he’d have a headache the next morning wasn’t like him either. I still hadn’t figured out if he liked to pretend he drank more than he had and so didn’t get too drunk, or if he had a high tolerance for libations.

I couldn’t eat the eggs. They smelled delicious with the heady scent of hard cheese and the sharpness of the paprika and slivers of onion. I squirmed in my chair. It was impossible to get comfortable. Glancing—again—at the empty chair across from me, I let out a frustrated groan, covered my eggs with a ceramic lid, picked myself up, and made the trek all the way up to Jasper’s bedroom.

I raised a fist to knock but paused. This was ridiculous. He was a grown man. If he wanted to sleep through breakfast, it was none of my business. Besides, the kitchen was warmer than the drafty hallway, though the scent of pine emanating from the decorated wreath on Jasper’s wood door comforted me.

I ought to get back to my eggs growing cold. A strong cup of hot drinking chocolate was all I needed. Not babbling pirates luring me into trouble.

My knuckles knocked of their own volition. Oops. I hadn’t meant to do that. When I got no answer, I struck harder. Leaning into the door, I placed my ear to the wood and held my breath, concentrating fully on any sound coming from within. I swore I heard a noise but couldn’t make out what. I pounded on the door, this time letting my cold hand rap a dozen times before I heard an aggravated, Go away!

That surprised me. Jasper? I called through the door.

I said go away!

I heard you, old man. What’s the matter?

The matter is a young woman not doing as she’s told.

That can’t be new to you.

Silence.

I’m coming in.

Don’t you dare! I am a man in my own bedroom, and this is the one place you can’t trespass.

Of all the things I could’ve said in that moment, a stroke of inspiration took hold of my lips, and I called out, I knew we were too much trouble! That’s all right, Father-in-law. I understand completely. Joe and I will move out by the end of the month.

No! No, Ella, I…just… He sighed so deeply I swore the mansion expanded. Ella?

The pleading tone traveled down then up my spine and wiggled into my heart. I almost felt bad for the old goat. I waited another second before responding. It’s all right, Jasper. Don’t worry about us.

No, it’s not…I mean to say…is anyone with you?

Now there was desperation in his tone. I eyed the empty hallway, decorated with colorful paintings, cozy brown-paneled walls, and soft, gorgeous rugs. No. It’s only you and me in the house—except for Annie, but she refuses to come out of her room.

After a long silence, I heard a dejected voice utter, Come in, then.

Opening the heavy wooden door, I kept my left hand on the hilt of my favorite dagger housed in my robe. His room was vast, of course. And opulent. The bed—made of the sturdiest cedar—adorned half the room. Large cedar dressers with intricate carvings and cherry-wood wardrobes covered two walls while a big paned window dressed with thick, velvet curtains overlooked the snow-covered yard.

I surveyed the room with a practiced eye, taking in every nook and cranny. Whenever a family member acted strangely, I had to be prepared for anything in case it was a warning—the only warning they could give. Though, if he’d been in danger, he would’ve shouted a Good at my threatening to move out, and I would’ve dashed to the stairs, chucked something heavy down them, and lay in wait for someone to investigate, my sword at my side.

But, alas, it was rarely anything so easy to deal with. Growing up an orphan, I hadn’t learned until later in life that family members acting strangely was a rather common occurrence and quite difficult to handle for altogether different grounds then being held captive.

Jasper, I hissed