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

by Sonia Parin

  The gates opened silently. Abby took a moment to appreciate the copse of trees lining the driveway. They were mostly evergreens. Seeing the tall pines swaying slightly in the breeze, she thought about the rowboat drifting toward shore. It had to be a possibility…

  “I think you’d love romping around the lawn. I never stopped to think about it. You probably lived in a house surrounded by a garden.”

  Clifford opened the front door before she could ring the doorbell. “Right this way, please.”

  This time he showed her through to a conservatory. The glass structure had an indoor lily pond with a statue of a cherub in the middle.

  Miss Haverstock waved and approached her from the far end. She strode at a sedate pace, smiling and admiring the lush display of tropical plants. Out of nowhere, two whippets appeared and dashed toward Doyle. They danced around him and then leaped back and froze into a snapshot pose. Moments later, they resumed dancing around him. Poor Doyle. He looked right out of his element.

  Miss Haverstock clapped her hands. “They are delighted with Mr. Doyle. Is he naturally shy?”

  “I think he’s a little overwhelmed.”

  “I’m so glad you remembered to bring him back for a visit.”

  “Actually, there’s something I wanted to show you.” Abby drew out the photo she’d printed of Sahara.

  Miss Haverstock took the photograph and, slipping on a pair of glasses, she studied it. Without saying anything, she strode toward the end of the conservatory and held the photo up.

  It took a moment for Abby to realize Miss Haverstock was using the lake as a backdrop.

  “This is the lady of the lake.”

  Doyle hurried past Abby and beat her to the car. “If I didn't know better, I’d say you were relieved to get out of there. I don’t know what you have to complain about. You had two beautiful doggies vying for your attention.” Admittedly, they had both been overly enthusiastic…

  Doyle pawned at the car door.

  “Hold your horses.”

  As soon as she opened it, he scrambled inside and curled up into a tight ball. When they drove past the gates, he looked up as if to make sure it was safe.

  “Yeah, you can come out of your shell now.”

  He wagged his tail and leaned out the window to look back.

  As they drove away, Abby called the Gazette to let Faith know she hadn’t been kidnapped.

  “I’ve had to drink two coffees,” Faith complained. “When I came back I found you’d disappeared again and left your mom to look after the front desk. Mrs. Doggett was walking by when she heard someone calling her. It was your mom. Apparently, she greeted everyone who strode by. She sent a few people running for their lives. They thought computers had finally taken over. Anyway, I found your mom and Mrs. Doggett chatting. They were exchanging recipes. So where did you get to?”

  Abby waited a second to make sure Faith had finished her caffeine-induced speech. “I went out to get some empirical evidence.” Belatedly, Abby wished she’d mocked up a couple of photos, one with Sahara and the others with some other people. Would Miss Haverstock have picked the one with Sahara?

  The fact she had identified her as the lady of the lake really proved nothing. How did one confront a possible suspect without hard evidence?

  “I’ll talk to you soon.” She disconnected the call and called Joshua. When he actually picked up the call, Abby sounded like a maniac muttering nonsense.

  “Did you investigate the bonfire?” she asked. “There might still be a clue.”

  Joshua sighed. “Where are you going with this?”

  “I don’t know yet. Anyway, I just thought I’d tell you about the photo.”

  “Abby. Leave it alone and let the police do their job.”

  “So you’re not going to follow it up?” Before he could answer, she disconnected the call and, instead of turning toward the town, she headed in the opposite direction.

  As she approached Miranda’s farm, Abby kept an eye out for any cars approaching. She wanted to take a closer look and see if she could find any debris left from the bonfire Sahara had set, something she wouldn’t be able to do if Sahara was around.

  “We’re in luck. There’s no one here.” Seeing Doyle shrinking back, Abby laughed. “And there are no lady dogs around either. Come on.”

  Abby prodded the smoldering pile with the tip of her boot. “Ashes to ashes.” Even a forensic scientist would need luck to make any sense of the debris. Stooping down, she picked up a stick and poked around. Nothing left.

  Determined to find something, she dug around some more, poking at the pile with the stick, first with care and then with stabbing motions. Meanwhile, Doyle sniffed around, got too close and sneezed.

  “There should be a law against people burning stuff. It’s not good for the environment. I have a good mind to call the police and harass them until they issue a fine.”

  When her cell phone rang, she ignored it and continued her search. There had to be something. Her phone rang again and she suspected it wouldn’t stop until she picked up.

  A breath filled with frustration shot out of her and she answered. “Joshua, I’m busy.”

  “And I’m at the Gazette and you’re not,” he said.

  “What are you doing there again?”

  “Making sure you stay out of trouble, but I see I’m already too late and you’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Stop what you’re doing and come back.”

  Doyle whimpered.

  “Or what?”

  “Or I’ll go there and arrest you for tampering with police evidence.”

  “So you admit this could be evidence.”

  Joshua’s throaty grumble made Abby smile.

  “There’s no law that says a reporter can’t go around looking for a story.” Abby hung up and growling, she stabbed the pile of ashes. She was about to hurl the stick away when she noticed something sticking to the end. “Well, hello. What’s this?” A small clump with a tuft of hair…

  She held it up to the light. Most of it was charred beyond recognition but a couple of strands remained, the tips looking light enough to suggest this might have been part of a wig.

  Doyle barked.

  “Hush. What’s come over you? You don’t bark.”

  The distinct sound of a rifle being cocked had Abby swirling around. She’d never heard the sound in real life but she’d watched enough movies to recognize it.

  Before Abby’s fight or flight response kicked in and clogged up her throat, she managed to say, “Hi.”

  Sahara Johns didn’t answer.

  Abby rose to her feet and smiled. “I guess you’re wondering what I’m doing here.” She took a step only to stop when Sahara nudged the rifle forward.

  Abby lifted her hands. “Hey. You should be careful with that. It might be loaded.”

  “Yes, it is loaded,” Sahara said. “I made sure of it.”

  “Oh.” Abby looked around her and saw Doyle looking straight at Sahara, growling through his tightened lips. “Stay, Doyle.” She prayed he wouldn’t do anything heroic. Something told her Sahara knew how to handle a gun.

  “This is what’s going to happen,” Sahara finally said. “Yes. I am going to shoot you and you’re going to drop dead, but I don’t want you to go without knowing how the rest will unfold.”

  Abby had trouble swallowing.

  “I’m from the city so I’m not used to living in such an isolated area,” Sahara continued, “I thought I heard noises. When I came out to investigate, I saw you. Of course, I recognized you so I lowered my gun but your dog startled me and I jumped back. Then I tripped and that’s when the gun went off.”

  Abby hated to admit it but Sahara had managed to convince her. It could work. It really could.

  “Why would you go to all that trouble?” she asked.

  Sahara snorted. “Because you’re onto something. Either you’ve figured it out or you’re about to.”

  Abby forced her lips to curve into a smile
. “Oh, you give me far too much credit.”

  The back door swung open and shut. It took all of Abby’s efforts to tear her gaze away from the rifle to see who it was even though she already knew.

  William Matthews strode toward Sahara. “What are you waiting for?”

  “I’m savoring the moment. Do you realize how close she came to ruining it all for us?”

  “It was you, out at the lake,” Abby said, her voice remarkably steady. “You wore a wig and dressed in cream colored period clothes.”

  Sahara turned to William. “See? I told you. She’s a smart cookie.”

  Abby held her phone up. “Detective Joshua Ryan heard everything I just said and he’s on his way.” She wished. Why had she hung up on him?

  “Liar. You hung up on him.”

  “The police are already onto you. They’ve put everything together. They know you were at the picnic.”

  Sahara’s lips tightened.

  “Somehow you convinced Miranda to go out on the lake. When you got to the middle of the lake something happened.” Surprised by what she’d said, Abby stopped. Sahara enjoyed having an audience. Just now, she could have shot her dead, but she’d wanted to take center stage. Abby imagined her on the boat thinking about all the people arriving at the picnic. Her audience.

  “When you were out in the middle of the lake,” Abby continued, “You did exactly what you did just now. You told Miranda you’d come to the picnic to kill her.” Again she stopped but only because she needed to run through the events. Once the reality of her dilemma had sunk in, Miranda would have screamed for help. “You had bee venom with you and you blew it in her face. She breathed it in.” That would have taken care of her screaming. “And as she struggled for breath, you told her the rest. How you’d conspired to kill her.” Abby scooped in a breath. Had Sahara met William before Miranda? Had they plotted to murder her for her money? They were clearly in on this together.

  Sahara smiled. “She had everything. The big house in the glitzy suburb. The beach house. The holidays. You name it, she had it.”

  “So why did she come to live here?”

  “Because she knew she’d be able to outshine everyone in a small town.”

  “Yes, but… why kill her?” Jealousy seemed too petty.

  “She could have invested in my play but she refused unless she got to play the leading role.”

  Abby’s mouth gaped open. Yes, she could see it now. “You asked her to invest in your play and when she refused, you tried to raise the money yourself. That’s how you met William.” Or maybe she’d met William first. He worked in a bank. It would make sense if Sahara had tried to secure a loan. Then again, if she didn’t have any money, she wouldn’t have any collateral either. “How did you two hook up?”

  “I met him at an opening night for a play. He was a guest and I was serving cocktails.” Sahara shook her head. “It wasn’t fair. I had the talent but I had to work nights serving drinks just to make ends meet. Miranda had more money than she knew what to do with.”

  Okay. That took care of the motive, but how had Miranda ended up married to William?

  “I knew she wouldn’t name me in her will. I also knew my cousin inside out. The moment she saw me with William, she had to have him for herself. So I made sure she saw us together.”

  Wow. Only a devious mind looking to cut corners could work all that out. The average person would get a second job…

  “The police are on their way,” Abby insisted. “They’ll never believe you killed me by accident. I was just on the phone—”

  “I know. I heard you. And you’re lying. Just like you were lying when you said you hadn’t hung up. No one’s coming to your rescue.”

  Abby produced a smug smile. “There’s a witness. Someone saw you coming out of the lake. She identified you today.” Abby nodded. “I told her about you and how after you blew the bee venom in Miranda’s face, you dived into the lake and swam to shore.” She looked at William Matthews. “And he was waiting for you on the other side. You probably watched everything unfold. Heck, you probably even waited until the boat drifted to the shore.”

  Sahara laughed. “Just think. Now you know the truth, you can die in peace. You have to admit, I’ve been very nice about it.”

  Abby scoffed. “Your plan is not going to work. Do you think I came here without telling the others what I know? By now, word will have spread to everyone. It’s that type of town.” Shaking her head, Abby smiled as she thought two could play at the game of plotting. “This is an interesting turn of events.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Get it over and done with and shoot her,” William said.

  Abby laughed. “Yes, Sahara. Shoot. He needs you to shoot so he can finish the job.”

  “Sorry, time’s up.” Sahara took aim.

  “He’s pointing a gun straight at you. The moment you shoot me, he’ll shoot you.” Abby managed a chuckle. “Why share the money when he can get to keep it all to himself?”

  “Don’t listen to her, Sahara.”

  Abby saw her nibbling the edge of her lip. “Of course, he won’t get away with it because he doesn’t have a solid plan the way you have. I have to admit, the story about you tripping over had me convinced. But how is he going to explain two dead bodies?”

  “Shoot her. Shoot her now.” William made the mistake of stepping on a twig.

  Sahara swung around. In that split second when the gun was pointed away from her, Abby knew she had to act. Without thinking of the consequences, she lunged for her.

  Of course, she wouldn’t have taken the risk if she hadn’t spotted Joshua making his way toward them.

  Luckily, he acted quickly, sprinting toward them, his gun drawn and aimed at Sahara.

  Moments later, Abby would remember seeing Joshua’s expression turning to steel. She’d even spared a thought to how much trouble she’d be in.

  When her body connected with Sahara’s, they both tumbled to the ground. Snarling, Doyle clamped his mouth on Sahara’s hand.

  Luck was on her side. William Matthews only thought of himself as he took off and tried to save his own skin.

  Even in her moment of defeat, Sahara still tried to snatch back some ground. She somehow got her finger around the trigger and pulled.

  Epilogue

  Detective Joshua Ryan strode into the Gazette, his scowl firmly in place. “You were lucky to walk away with a few bruises. I thought I’d tell you just in case you didn’t hear it the last dozen times I said it.”

  Abby lifted her elbow. “And a scratch. Don’t forget the scratch.” Picking up her coffee cup, she smiled. “Joyce named a coffee after me. The Abby Maguire. You should try it. It’s infused with chocolate that sits at the bottom and gradually melts.”

  Joshua hitched his hands on his hips. “I’m here to issue an official police reprimand.”

  “Pull up a chair, detective. Smile and be happy.”

  The edge of his lip twitched.

  “Has William Matthews been apprehended?”

  He nodded. “Road block.” He stooped down and gave Doyle a scratch behind the ears.

  “My little hero.” Who couldn’t tell right from left, Abby thought. While he’d clamped onto Sahara’s right hand, her left hand had been free to reach the gun and pull the trigger. The gunshot had only made William run faster. He’d been lucky to walk away unscathed.

  Savoring her coffee, Abby said, “I could live to be a thousand and still not manage to get my head around the reasons why people kill for money. It goes beyond greed.”

  “You need to consider sociopathic tendencies,” Joshua offered. “They are a must if you’re going to kill someone.”

  Faith came out of the storeroom saying, “The whiteboard has been put away. I hope that’s the last time I have to bring it out.” Looking up, she smiled. “Hello, you’re back.”

  “Yes, as promised. I went to Joyce’s Café and straight back to the office. Your coffee is getting cold.”

/>   Faith smiled at Joshua. “Have you come to tell Abby off again?”

  “Don’t encourage him.”

  “Did I hear someone mention sociopaths?” her mom asked.

  Abby grumbled under her breath. “Faith, could you give me a heads up before you video chat with my mom?”

  “Sorry, I forgot. You’d stepped out to get coffee. We were chatting and she had to go answer the front door and I went to put away the whiteboard.” Faith shrugged.

  “Yes, mom. Sociopaths.” Abby made a winding motion with her finger.

  “I think everyone should be tested,” her mom said. “Before we’re allowed on the road, we have to obtain a license…”

  Faith sipped her coffee and moaned. “What is this heavenly concoction?”

  Abby grinned. “It’s the Abby Maguire. I’ve had a coffee named after me. I actually feel short-changed. Joyce usually puts more thought into naming her coffees.”

  “Maybe we could make suggestions. The Abby Maguire Action Packed Shot.” Faith lifted her mug in a salute. “The Abby Maguire Scoop.”

  Giving Doyle a final scratch, Joshua straightened. “Yes, yes. Enough with the accolades. We don’t want to encourage her. Abby could have been killed.”

  Faith wagged a finger at Abby. “You thought working in a small town newspaper would be boring.”

  Abby tapped her chest. “Be still my heart. Any more excitement, and I’ll expire.”

  Joshua frowned. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

  “I’d tell you but then that would blow my international woman of mystery cover.” Abby finished her coffee. “Joyce must have put some other secret ingredient. I want another one. I’m going back to Joyce’s. I think we should all go and celebrate… Again.”

  “Wait,” her mom said, “What about me?”

  Faith waved her cell phone. “I’ve got you, Eleanor.”

  As they headed to Joyce’s her mom said, “Oh, it’s so nice to get out of the office.”

  Joshua nudged her. “I didn’t realize you’d acquired a virtual assistant.”

  “Yes, apparently so. Actually, I can’t complain. Mom went through the annual reports Faith had downloaded and she found a photo of William Matthews and Sahara at an opening night. It proves they knew each other. That will come in handy. I’m sure she’ll insist they didn’t have any contact.”