A Dear Abby Cozy Mystery Collection Books 1 - 3: End of the Lane, Be Still My Heart and The Last Ride

by Sonia Parin

  How had the woman died and why hadn’t anyone noticed? She had to have come with someone, and that someone should have noticed her missing.

  Abby shook her head. She needed to stop thinking about it.

  “Have some water, Doyle. And I’ll give you another biscuit. It might be a while before we get home.”

  Doyle looked around and then appeared to relax. Abby drew out a doggie biscuit for him. He sniffed it and looked away. “Not interested?” Bending down, she gave him a pat on the rump. “I think you knew there was something wrong when you went sniffing around the bushes. Sorry I pulled you away. Next time—” Heavens. Next time?

  “Hey, there you are.” Faith strode up to them, her eyes bright and her smile wide. “I don’t remember the picnic being this good last year. I hope you took lots of photos. It would be nice to put together a commemorative album.” Faith looked around. “Where’s Charles?”

  Abby sighed and, making sure no one would hear her, she told Faith everything that had happened. It took a moment for Faith to react to the news.

  “Next time, you might want to start by suggesting I sit down first,” Faith said. “My legs are wobbling and look at my hands. They’re shaking.”

  “I hope there isn’t a next time,” Abby said. “This is meant to be a quiet little town.”

  “I feel I should apologize. In fact, on behalf of everyone, I’m sorry.” Faith pressed her hand to her heart. “Heavens. My heart is pumping hard against my chest. Who could it be?”

  Abby’s gaze skipped around the picnic area. She had a vague idea but didn’t want to say for fear that she might be wrong.

  Hearing the crunch of tires on gravel, she turned. “Joshua.” She’d met the detective the first day she’d arrived in Eden. Abby remembered he’d given her a coffee from Joyce’s Café and had set her off on a road to absolute addiction to Joyce’s brew.

  A few heads turned his way but everyone resumed what they were doing. He hadn’t come alone. Nodding, he introduced Detective Inspector Quentin McNamara.

  Both detectives cast their eyes over the picnic area and then Joshua got on the phone to give the police the go-ahead.

  Apparently, Joshua had played it safe.

  “Did you think my phone call was a crank?”

  “Not at all. I just didn’t want the squad cars to drive in with the sirens blaring. It would have set everyone on a panic.”

  “Like in the movie Jaws,” Faith said.

  “The police are going to arrive now and cordon off the area. Can you show me where you found the body?”

  Abby leaned in. “Everyone knows something’s happened. I’m guessing they’ll follow.”

  “Let’s stay calm. As far as anyone knows, I’m only here to have a chat with you. They’re not mind readers.”

  “Joshua… Your clothes are a dead giveaway. You’re here on official business.”

  Both detectives wore denim jeans and sports jackets and had a hands on hips look about them that spoke of serious police business.

  “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  “It’s not white… or even eggshell white.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Joshua said.

  Abby could see everyone sitting up and straining to catch a snippet of conversation so they could add two and two together. Even the people who’d gone out into the lake had noticed something happening. The rowboats had all come to a stop, and some picnickers were making their way back to shore.

  “All right. Quentin will stay here with Faith.” He bent down and gave Doyle a scratch behind the ears. “Is this casual enough for you?”

  Abby nodded.

  Straightening, Joshua nudged her arm. “Let’s just walk nice and easy. Pretend we’re going for a stroll. Which way?”

  She signaled with her eyes.

  “Tell me how you found the body.”

  Abby tried to piece together the events but had to double back a couple of times to get the sequence right.

  “Do you have any other useful information?” Joshua asked.

  “She felt cold to the touch and now that I think about it, she also felt stiff. How long does it take for rigor mortis to set in?”

  “As soon as four hours.”

  Four hours… That would place the time of death at roughly the same time people had begun arriving. “I noticed something else.” Abby tapped her chin. “It might be nothing but I get the feeling she slumped over.” And there had been something else…

  “What?” Joshua asked, almost as if he’d read her mind.

  “I saw something but, what with calling you and checking for a pulse…” She shook her head. “This might come as a surprise, but I’m not used to seeing dead bodies. Give me a minute, it’ll come to me.” Her cell phone rang. “My mom. She’ll want to know what’s happening.”

  “Why? Did you call her?”

  “No, I’d been talking on the phone with her. Actually, we were video chatting, when we noticed something odd about the rowboat and I only disconnected the call when I rang you.”

  “You should answer,” Joshua suggested.

  “Mom, I’m fine. Joshua’s here and… I can’t talk now.” She turned the phone to face Joshua who smiled and waved at her mom.

  “Everything is under control, Eleanor. No need to worry.” Joshua’s eyes widened slightly.

  Abby looked at the screen. “Mom. Did you just scowl at Joshua? This isn’t his fault.” Promising to ring back with an update, she ended the call. “Sorry. My mom has expressive eyebrows. She can bring a room to a standstill with her look of disapproval. But she’s really quite nice.”

  They made their way toward the path as discreetly as they could. When they reached the boat, Joshua gestured for her to stand back.

  “You’re kidding. I’m the one who discovered the body.” Abby swallowed. Her heart thumped all the way up to her throat.

  “Are you all right?”

  She gave a stiff nod but that only made her realize how light-headed she felt.

  “Stay here. I need to get to the boat.”

  She watched Joshua make his way through the thick undergrowth.

  Charles, Bradford and Joyce had stepped back from the boat but only after securing it to a branch with a rope.

  Joyce hugged herself and gave Abby a small smile. “This is dreadful. I’m glad you had the courage to feel for a pulse. I don’t think I would have been able to do it.”

  “You’d be surprised what you can do when you absolutely have to do something.” Abby craned her neck for a better look. “I just remembered something. The oars. They’re not there.”

  Joshua returned, his cell phone pressed to his ear.

  Abby heard him passing some information to the ambulance officers. When he finished his call, he turned to the others and asked if they could stay a while longer.

  Taking Abby by the arm, he guided her back to the clearing. Joshua gave Abby a brisk smile and looked away. “Okay, here they are.”

  “How is the police going to contain the situation without alarming everyone?”

  “It’s what they’re trained to do.” Joshua shook his head. “I don’t think anyone will drive off without first finding out as much as they can. Although, people with children will probably want to set a safe distance.”

  “I’m sure she didn’t come alone. Surely someone is going to realize they’re missing a partner.”

  His cell phone rang.

  Abby watched him but couldn’t read his expression.

  “The ambulance is less than five minutes away. They were delayed on another emergency call. It’s been one of those days. We need to clear out everyone with small children now. There’s no need to expose them…”

  To a body bag, Abby thought.

  “You could say someone’s fallen ill.”

  He nodded. “Good idea.”

  In an ideal world, everyone would have gone home but no one actually believed the story about someone falling ill. There were simply too many police of
ficers for that story to stick. Curiosity and a sense of rising dread kept most people lingering at the picnic grounds even after the police had assured them there was nothing to see.

  Abby wondered if the police really expected people to buy into the assurance or if they assumed the message carried an underlying threat. Cross the line and you’ll suffer the consequences.

  Luckily, everyone with children agreed they needed to spare them the experience. While most lived in farms and were used to the harsh realities of life, some aspects were best avoided.

  “What’s going on?” Abby heard someone ask. A few people started making a beeline for her as if guided by a sixth sense toward the one person they assumed would have access to privileged information.

  Any minute now she expected to be mobbed but then Joshua strode up to her. “You should go home, Abby.”

  Abby didn’t want to argue with him, but that didn’t mean she’d go away. She had a job to do.

  People stood back watching in silence. A forensic team had been called in and they swept the area. Standing back from the immediate scene, Abby couldn’t tell what else was happening. With the police in full control now, Joyce and the others had been guided away from what everyone suspected had now become a crime scene.

  “Can we expect a statement from the police?” Charles asked.

  Everyone turned to Abby and she turned to look at Joshua, her eyebrow cocked. “Do you wish to make a statement?”

  “Cause of death hasn’t been determined yet,” Joshua said.

  Joyce cleared her throat. “Did you see anything that might lead you to suspect foul play?” When Joshua didn’t answer, Joyce nudged Abby and said, “I’m not the press. You ask him.”

  “Joshua, could I have a word in private, please?” Abby strode away from the group.

  Joshua folded his arms. “I can’t give you information I don’t have, Abby.”

  “It’s getting late. People need to have something to take away with them. You need to give them some sort of assurance… something to set their minds at ease.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” He brushed his hand across his brow. “It would help if we could identify the victim. We were expecting someone to approach us, worried they’re missing a companion, but so far, no one’s come forth.” He looked toward Joyce and lowered his voice. “Do you think she’d be up to it? She knows everyone in town.”

  “Joyce is a tough cookie and I’m sure she’ll be only too happy to assist. You might want to mention something about her discretion and thank her for helping to keep the area free of stragglers.”

  Joshua waited a good ten seconds before answering. “Thank you for the prompt.”

  Abby took Joyce aside. “Joyce, are you up to identifying the victim?” All color drained from her cheeks. “Sorry to put you on the spot. I’ll come with you. Oh, and we have to keep the information to ourselves until the next of kin is informed.”

  “That goes without saying.” Joyce lowered her head as if in thought. “Am I going to have nightmares? I imagine I will.”

  “Yeah, you probably will.”

  Regardless, Joyce began making her way toward the path with Bradford by her side and Charles following behind.

  The body hadn’t been removed yet but as they drew closer to the little cove, Abby could see the victim had been placed on a stretcher.

  Of all the places to have died, Abby thought, why did it have to be here and now?

  Prompted by Joshua who drew the zipper on the body bag open, Joyce stepped forward.

  For a moment, she looked reluctant.

  Abby stepped up to her and gave her a reassuring hug.

  Joyce’s shoulders lifted and dropped. “Okay. I can do this.” She looked down.

  Standing beside her, Abby looked down too.

  They both gasped.

  “Miranda. It’s Miranda Hoppers.”

  “Are you sure?” Joshua asked.

  Joyce gave a stiff nod while Abby sighed and closed her eyes, although that did nothing to erase the image of Miranda’s face from her mind.

  Joyce grabbed her hand and tugged her away. “I have a flask of brandy in my basket.”

  “Good thinking.” Abby pinched her cheeks. “I’m sure I’m looking as pale as a ghost.”

  Joyce brushed her hand across her face. “Did she… Did she look bloated to you?”

  “Ugh, I wish you hadn’t mentioned the bloating. Now the image won’t budge from my mind.”

  “And her lips looked puffy.” Joyce shook her head. “I am not going to get any sleep tonight.”

  Abby agreed and she also thought a shot of brandy wouldn’t go far enough. She wanted oblivion. “I’m going to have to find a way to bleach my memory.”

  Chapter Four

  After waving Charles off, Abby and Faith hitched a ride back to town with Joyce and Bradford. For the first time since arriving in Eden, no one talked. Not even Faith who preferred to work through anything bothering her out loud.

  Bradford pulled up outside the pub where Abby had been staying. They all looked at one another and, again, didn’t say anything.

  Abby had to force herself to move her lips. “I’ll see you all… tomorrow.” Doyle trotted ahead of her, almost looking weary. “I guess you missed your snooze time. Sorry.”

  She saw Mitch Faydon at the bar with a group of people huddled together. Seeing her, Mitch straightened.

  “Is it true?” he asked.

  Abby chortled. Her reaction caught her by surprise and then she remembered Mitch asking the same question soon after Abby had arrived in Eden and Faith answering ‘Yes, it’s true, the earth is round.’

  Nodding, she lifted her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear and belatedly remembered she still wore a hat.

  Mitch leaned against the bar. “Eddie called a while ago to say the lake was a hive of activity with police swarming the place.”

  Everyone at the bar turned to Abby.

  Doyle trotted on ahead, reached the stairs and looked back at her.

  She gave Mitch a brief, stilted rundown.

  “That’s the same information Eddie had,” he said, “I’d hoped you’d be able to throw in a name.”

  Abby sighed. “You know the drill. The police need to contact the next of kin.” Abby looked at the group and prayed there were no next of kin among them.

  “So you have a name, but you can’t share it with us.”

  Doyle whimpered. “Sorry, I… I have a story to write and Doyle is in desperate need of a snooze.” It seemed they both were. The moment Abby sat on her couch she slumped sideways and promptly fell asleep.

  A while later she nearly rolled off the couch. “I’m a lifestyle reporter,” she groaned. Before she could fully wake up, her cell phone rang. She answered in a slurred tone.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Faith asked. “Have you hit the bottle?”

  “I get the feeling I don’t respond well to death.” Shortly after discovering Dermot Cavendish’s body, she had collapsed on her bed and had fallen asleep. “I fell asleep.”

  “Narcolepsy.”

  “Huh?”

  “Daytime sleepiness can be brought on by stress,” Faith explained. “I had an aunt who constantly worried. Every bit of bad news made her drowsy. She used to spend her days taking naps. Finally, she had to stop watching the news.”

  Abby surged to her feet. She couldn’t become that type of person. She needed to stay alert and… and on the job 24/7. “So what’s up, Faith? Why did you call?”

  “I assumed you were going to work on your story. I wondered if maybe you wanted some company. I could be your sounding board.”

  “Yeah, sure. Come over.”

  A knock at the door had Abby swinging around. “Is that you?”

  “Yes.”

  And she hadn’t come alone. Joyce stood behind Faith.

  Smiling, Joyce held up a tray. “I brought coffee.” She’d changed out of her pretty 1920s ensemble switching over to a film noire persona, her bla
ck top and black tights matched with a mid-thigh length trench coat and a black beret.

  Faith set a large bag on the small dining table and drew out a couple of large notebooks. “I thought these might come in handy.” She looked around the apartment. “We could tape notes on the wall.”

  Abby must have looked sufficiently mystified because Faith added, “I thought you might want to start piecing together the events.”

  “How about we start with the coffee,” Abby suggested and gestured toward the couch. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

  Along with the coffee, Joyce had also brought a selection of pastries. “Just in case you need a hit of sugar. I find it helps to generate ideas.” Joyce shrugged. “Faith told me how you two drew up a timeline for Dermot’s case.”

  Case? “I’m a reporter not a P.I.”

  “Be that as it may, we all know Detective Joshua Ryan is not going to share information with us. Since we were the first on the scene, I think we can do a good job of piecing together some vital information.” Joyce took a sip of her coffee. “Also, you were at the picnic site for the photo shoot and you witnessed an altercation between Miranda Hoppers and Kitty Belmont.”

  “Yes, about that… How did you find out about it?” By the time Abby had returned to town, news about the altercation had already spread, beating her at her own game.

  “I have my ways.” Joyce shrugged. “And, no, I won’t reveal my sources.”

  There’d only been four people to witness the exchange, five if she included herself. Abby narrowed it down to Kitty Belmont.

  “Are you about to suggest Kitty killed Miranda?” Abby asked.

  Joyce quirked her eyebrow. “It’s a possibility. Let’s face it, they have been at it for ages.”

  Too obvious, Abby thought. If Kitty wanted to get rid of Miranda, she would not have been so open about her hostility toward her. Shaking her head, Abby helped herself to a coffee.

  “I’ll get the ball rolling.” Faith uncapped a sharpie pen and wrote Miranda’s name. Tearing the page off, she stuck it on the wall. “This would be easier with a whiteboard but I get the feeling you’re not up to going to the office.”