While She Slumbered: The Murder Blog Mysteries #5
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While She Slumbered
The Murder Blog Mysteries #5
Pamela Frost Dennis
WHILE SHE SLUMBERED
The Murder Blog Mysteries #5
Copyright © 2021 Pamela Frost Dennis
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-9993494-3-4
* * *
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of the book without permission of the author constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property.
* * *
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing: 2021
For permission requests:
pamelafrostdennis@hotmail.com
Cover: Bookfly Design
Acknowledgments
~ Thank you to my readers ~
Your kind comments and star ratings
on Amazon and Goodreads
keep me writing.
Dr. Dorothy Dink
Your wisdom and wacky humor
continues to inspire me.
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO:
My number one fan
who thinks I can do anything!
Contents
Prologue
Welcome to My Blog
Preface
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter NIne
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Afterword
About the Author
Also by Pamela Frost Dennis
Prologue
Soft footsteps crept towards her bed. A shadowy figure loomed over her.
“Is that you?” she whispered.
There was no answer.
“Is it time for my medicine?” she asked.
“No. It’s time to say goodbye.”
Welcome to My Blog
Hi there! I’m Katy McKenna and this blog is a daily journal of my life: the good, the bad, and the boring. Only a select few have access. If you’re new to my blog, let me share a little about myself.
I’m a thirty-two-year-old unemployed freelance graphic artist. Happily divorced and financially solvent due to a stash of gold coins I found in my attic a while back. No kids. Two pets—Daisy, a sweet yellow Labrador I adopted at the pound, and Tabitha, a gray tabby cat who adopted me.
I live in Santa Lucia—a quaint, quiet college town on the California Central Coast. I have a great relationship with my folks, Kurt and Marybeth Melby, who live nearby. Mom owns a hair salon, “Cut and Caboodles,” so I get freebies. My step-dad, Pop, was a cop who took a bullet in the knee while answering a domestic disturbance call several years ago. That forced him into early retirement. Now he repairs appliances in his shop, “Pop’s Fix-It Shop,” next door to Mom’s salon.
My younger sister by nine years, Emily, lives in Santa Monica with her significant other, Dawn, and works at Roxy Studios. My bio-dad, Bert McKenna, is a plastic surgeon in Palm Springs. He was a non-existent father to me—Pop raised me from the age of two. Now Bert is married to a woman half his age, and they have a toddler. Recently, he and I have forged a friendly relationship. I’m happy he’s a devoted daddy to my baby brother.
I have a small circle of good friends and a bestie since grade school. Samantha lives in Santa Lucia and is married with two kids and one on the way. Sam is my rock.
That brings me to my other rock. What can I say about my glamorous, vivacious, and sometimes extremely exasperating grandmother, Ruby? She’s not a cookie-baking kind of grandma—she’s my partner in crime.
Eventually all things fall into place.
Until then, laugh at the confusion,
live for the moments,
And know everything happens for a reason.
* * *
~ Albert Schweitzer ~
1875-1965
Chapter One
Sunday • May 31
Posted by Katy McKenna
Yesterday
Lunch at the Clamshell Café
We were sitting outside on the deck, enjoying the ocean view and eating fish tacos, when Ruby said to me, “I have a little confession to make.”
“Oh, God. What did you do?”
My grandma pulled her cell phone out of the side pocket of her red organizer bag. “I need to show you something, and I want you to keep an open mind.” She scrolled through the umpteen apps on her phone. “Here it is.” She held the screen in front of my face, looking guilty as hell.
It was a dating app called “30-Something.”
I dropped my taco. “Oh, God, what did you do?”
“I may have signed you up.”
I thought she was joking until the “♥ Thanks For Signing Up For Love ♥” message arrived in my email inbox last night.
This morning
When I called to chastise Ruby, she wasn’t the least bit apologetic.
“I don’t know why you’re so upset, Katy. I told you at lunch yesterday that I did this.”
“You said you may have signed me up, Ruby. But I sure didn’t believe that you’d actually done it.”
“You know what they say. It’s easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission. Honey, you’re moping for a man who’s living with his ex-wife.”
“Nicole has cancer and Josh feels responsible for their marriage breaking up. Helping her is a way for him to make amends.”
Ruby continued. “I get that. He’s a great guy, but that ship has sailed. I’m not getting any younger, you know, and I—” She paused for a melodramatic sniff.
Oh, here it comes.
“Forgive me for wanting to see my granddaughter happily married before I cross the rainbow ridge and join your grandpa.”
“It’s Rainbow Bridge.”
“Ridge, bridge. Whatever.”
Chapter Two
Monday • June 1
Posted by Katy McKenna
This morning
I was lounging on the couch, sort of watching a recorded Beat Bobby Flay, and bored out of my mind. To prove to you how bored I was, I decided to do some yard work. I changed into my ratty gray sweats and was heading out the French doors to the patio when my cell phone rang. Grandma’s smiling face lit up the screen.
“Hey, Ruby. Kind of busy right now.”
“What’re you doing?” she asked.
I sat on the chaise lounge and kicked my feet up. “Working in the yard. Pulling weeds. Trimming bushes. It’s hard work, but somebody’s got to do it.”
“Well, you deserve a break. Come over for coffee in the bistro and spend some quality time with your grandma.”
“I suppose I could use a break.”
“What are you wearing?” asked Ruby.
That should’ve warned me she was up to no good.
Shady Acres Senior Community
Ruby lives on a tree-lined lane in a charming, two-bedroom cottage with a perfect sized yard for a small dog. There are nice apartments if you don’t want the fuss of a yard, and there is also assisted living. The complex has its own theater, a gourmet market, a bistro, several pools, and a fitness club. Twenty-three more years and I’ll be eligible to move in!
Still dressed in sweats, I pulled up to the security entrance and rolled down my window, ready for my usual grilling from Gate Keeper George. The skinny middle-aged man stepped out of his booth, looking authoritative with a clipboard and pen. “State your name and purpose of business, please.”
“George!” screamed Ruby, marching down the street, waving her fist. “Dammit, George. I’ve had enough of this. Always harassing my family and friends.”
George looked wild-eyed—torn between his sworn duty to protect and serve the citizens of Shady Acres, or run for his life.
“Seriously, George. She’s nuts.” I tapped my skull. “Certifiable, and getting worse every day. No telling what she’ll do.”
George scrambled into the glass booth, slammed the door, and ducked. The gate went up a split second before Ruby reached the car. Looking like a senior fashion model in teal capris and a lime green top, she smacked the hood of my 1976 orange Volvo wagon, and pointed a menacing finger at bug-eyed George, who was peeking through the window. “Final warning, George!” She hopped into the car. “Let’s roll.”
“Oh, my God. That was priceless.” I turned the corner towards the bistro.
Ruby shot me a disapproving glance. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
“No. Why would you think that?”
She huffed an exasperated sigh. “I wish you would take more pride in your appearance.”
“I didn’t realize this was a formal occasion.”
We parked in the lot next to the main building where the bistro is located. After locking the car door, I did a red carpet pose for Ruby. She shook her head and headed to the building. I dashed ahead and opened the glass door for her with a big grin.
In the glass enclosed atrium entrance, Grandma scanned the room—a cozy blend of sofas, tables, and original art done by talented residents. “Oh look! There’s Betty with someone. We should say hello.” She grabbed my hand, dragging me across the room. “Betty! Fancy meeting you here.”
Attired in her trademark caftan and matching turban, Betty removed her big round black glasses and gave me an obvious once-over, which compelled me to brush imaginary dirt off my baggy pants. “I’ve been doing yard work.”
“I’m glad you’re taking a break, dear. You must be exhausted. Do join us.”
When I was a kid, I watched Golden Girls repeats with Ruby. Betty’s commanding voice reminds me of Bea Arthur. Low and husky. She scooted her chair over and patted the seat next to her. “Ruby, you sit here. Katy? Sit next to my grandson, Royce.”
Looking very GQ-casual in his half-tucked button-down, he stood to shake hands. “Hi, Katy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I noticed how much nicer his nails were than mine. “Great to meet you, too.”
The grandmothers grinned at us like Cheshire cats who’d scored a quart of cream.
“Isn’t this delightful,” said Betty. “My single grandson is a C.P.A. with a big-time firm in San Francisco. He’s down here going over my finances. Such a sweet boy.”
“How old are you, Royce?” asked co-conspirator Ruby.
He ran a hand over his male-model stubble, obviously trying to smother a chuckle. “Thirty-five.”
Ruby smacked the wood table. “What a coincidence. Katy is thirty-two.”
“Wow!” I smacked the table. “That is a coincidence. We’re both in our thirties.” My chair screeched on the tile floor as I pushed it back. “I’ll go order. What do you want, Granny?” She hates it when I call her that.
“A regular dark roast.” She rose from her seat. “But I’ll get the coffees so you two can keep talking.”
Royce jumped to his feet. “Ruby—please allow me to help Katy.”
“Well, aren’t you a courteous young man.” She sank back into her chair and winked at Betty.
Royce trailed me to the counter. After I placed my order, he said, “You realize what’s going on, right?”
“It’s pretty obvious.” I leaned an elbow on the marble countertop. “Truthfully, I’m not into dating these days. I just got out of a serious relationship. Or I think I’m out. Not quite sure. It’s complicated.”
“Actually, I’m in a serious relationship,” he said.
“You haven’t told Betty? How come?” I gazed across the bistro at the gleeful grandmas gawking at us.
With a serious expression, Royce touched my arm lightly. “Matthew and I just celebrated our six-month anniversary.”
“I take it Betty doesn’t know.”
“She doesn’t. My folks are not thrilled about it. They’ve known I’m gay for years, but refuse to acknowledge it. I don’t want to lose Nana, too.”
“The only thing Betty will care about is whether Matthew is good enough for you.”
He sighed heavily. “I hope you’re right, because I’m tired of keeping secrets. I’ll tell Nana later.”
The barista set my order on the counter. I doctored mine, and had turned to head back to the granny barracudas when Royce said, “How about we have a little fun with this and pretend we’re going on a date?”
“Good idea. They deserve it.” I noticed my neighbor, Nina, from two doors down, across the room. “I have to say hello to a friend.” I handed Ruby’s coffee to Royce. “Tell my grandma I’ll only be a minute.”
Nina held out her arms for a hug. “My favorite neighbor. So good to see you. Sit for a moment.”
I moved an orange pillow and sat next to her on the gray loveseat. “Are you visiting a friend?”
“No. I’m hoping to move here. I put my name on the list for an apartment.”
“Hold that thought.” I waved my Grandma over. She smiled and nodded at several people as she made her way across the room. “Ruby? Do you remember my neighbor, Nina Lowen?”
She perched on an easy chair facing us. “I certainly do. Nice to see you again. You changed your hair. I love it. It reminds me of Judy Dench’s signature hairstyle.”
Nina smiled, running her fingers through her short silver pixie. “That’s what I was going for.”
“Nina wants to move to Shady Acres,” I said.
“Why on earth would you want to leave your beautiful home and garden? Don’t get me wrong, I love it here, but every time I drive by your house I slow down to admire it.” She chuckled. “I was thinking about asking if my ashes could be scattered in your garden.”
Nina laughed. “What a lovely thing to say. I doubt I’ll still be around by the time you pass. The truth is, maintaining the yard is too much work for me now. I’m ready to have some fun. You know, make new friends. Have a social life.” She held up her coffee cup. “The coffee here is good, too. There’s another reason for moving. I’m not thrilled with how our neighborhood is changing. Like those boys across the street an
d their loud music and crude language. It stopped after you talked to them, Katy, but started up again while you and Ruby were in England. That house has become a hangout for the town’s lowlifes. Frankly, I’ve had enough.”
“I’ve heard it, too. I’ll go talk to them again.”
“I hope you can convince them to stop, Katy. No one is going to want to buy a house across the street from that racket.”
Ruby stood. “I better get back to Betty, or I’ll never hear the end of it. Nina? If you have questions, please call me. I’d be happy to give you a tour.”
“I’m going to miss seeing you on my walks, Nina.”
She patted my hand. “It won’t happen overnight. But I’m tired of being alone. My Edward has been gone for over twenty years now.”
I leaned closer, giving her a coy look. “Are you by any chance looking for love?”