Nosy Neighbor: All 7 complete Nosy Neighbor cozy mysteries PLUS: 2 short Christmas stories (A Nosy Neighbor mystery)

by Cynthia Hickey

  Guaranteed, Sadie would accompany me on my weekly scouts around the neighborhood. A chicken or not, her size ought to deter any more people from getting close enough to hit me.

  The proverbial light bulb went off over my head. Maybe it was time to move away from romances and on to writing mysteries. This could be a sign from God. I could still implement romance. The night’s happenings would make the perfect springboard for me to begin, and I’d model the hero after Detective Steele. “Sadie, tomorrow, we’re going back to the place it all began.” After all, I would need to take notes for my finest novel yet.

  *

  For the first time that I could remember, I gave thanks my family were late sleepers. Not that I got any sleep next to my mother who snored like a chainsaw. The sooner she unloaded her bed, the better. If they woke as early as I did, it’d be impossible for me to sneak out without company. I slipped my feet into slippers and darted down the stairs, Sadie at my heels. My flannel pants and tee-shirt were perfectly respectable for taking a dog for a walk at seven a.m. No one would suspect a thing.

  I snagged the leash from under the leather chair. Cherokee rolled over and grunted. When she didn’t wake, I released the breath I held, clipped the leash to Sadie’s collar, and then tiptoed out the front door.

  A few people were out, doing what early risers do. Collect the paper, take out the garbage, walk their Chihuahuas. The delicate scent of honeysuckle drifted on a light breeze. No one seemed to pay me undue attention except raise a hand in greeting, which I returned. I couldn’t look suspicious.

  Yellow crime scene tape surrounded the back yard of the house I’d visited. Sad in its wavy journey across a lawn covered in weeds and mid-calf high grass. Sadie barked, and I put a hand on her muzzle. We turned down the alley. When I spotted the doghouse, I paused to study the ground. Where had I seen the shadowy mound? There, or there? Why wasn’t a chalk figure drawn in the grass? Isn’t that what the crime scene investigators did?

  “Okay, girl. I’m leaving it up to you to find me inside the house.” I nonchalantly let the leash slide out of my hands. Sadie took off around the corner of the house like a rocket. I glanced around. “Oh, no. She yanked free.”

  “She did, did she?”

  I squealed and whirled as Detective Steele emerged from the bushes. “You scared me.” I planted my fists on my hips.

  “Sorry.” He crossed his arms and studied me with those delicious eyes. “What are you doing here, Miss Nelson?”

  “Um,” I twirled a strand of hair around my finger and tried to ignore the fact that I stood in front of him wearing wrinkled pajamas. “Looking for the dog’s dish. Yeah.”

  “Then why would you tell the dog to find you a way inside the house?” He motioned his head toward a stainless steel bowl next to the back stairs. “Look. You can’t be here. This is a crime scene. Your being here and wanting to get inside might put you a notch up on the suspect list.”

  My heart skipped a beat, and not in the good, oh he’s so handsome kind of way. “I’m just walking my dog. That’s not against the law.”

  “Miss Nelson.” He frowned and raked a hand through his hair.

  “Call me Stormi, please.” Especially if I was going to run into him every time I turned around. “Aren’t y’all finished here, anyway?”

  “I’m investigating a murder. I won’t be finished for a while.” A muscle twitched in his jaw.

  “Me too!” Something we had in common.

  “I thought you were walking your dog.” He crossed his arms, making the muscles in his arms bulge against his tee-shirt.

  “Oh, all right.” I slapped my thigh to call Sadie over when I spotted her rooting beneath a bush. “I’m going to write a mystery novel about what happened to me, and the dead body, and wanted to take notes. Whatever I couldn’t find out by coming and talking to neighbors, I’d make up.”

  He grabbed my elbow and pulled me into the shade of a large oak tree. A delightful scent of musk teased my nostrils and I leaned a little closer to him. “A murder occurred here last night. You were allegedly attacked. It isn’t the smartest idea for you to start nosing around.”

  O-kay. He thinks it’s one of the neighbors. That was no more pleasant than him thinking I was the culprit. The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention, and I pulled back from sniffing him. Maybe I’d gather more clues by getting to know the people who lived around me. Ugh. Talk to people I didn’t know?

  But I’d do almost anything for research that couldn’t be found on the internet. Anything for a story and all that, right? “Who do you think it is?”

  He groaned. “Go home, Miss … Stormi.” He grabbed Sadie’s leash and handed her over to me. “And don’t forget to go to the station to fill out a report.”

  Mulling over the unsuccessful last half hour, I tugged Sadie’s leash so we could continue our exercise while my mind leaped into hyper-drive. Detective Steele had stepped from the bushes. Was he hiding or searching for something? He could be a dirty cop. How could I get back over there without getting caught? I didn’t even know the dead neighbor’s name. Some crime-solver I was.

  Two houses over, I spotted an elderly woman wearing a high-lighter-yellow-colored housecoat. She hummed as she watered a bed of petunias and rose bushes. Spotting me, she waved. “Hello. I’m Marion Henley. You’re the new neighbor over on Hickory.”

  “Yes.” I might as well start asking questions, and this woman seemed eager to welcome me. “I’m Stormi Nelson. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Yes, yes, we’re all a twitter over the new author on the block.” She moved her dentures back and forth with her tongue. “I ain’t talking about excitement, you understand.” She peered at me over wire-rimmed glasses. “I’m talking about that newfangled thing on the computer that folks use to communicate. Twitter. The gossip is flying back and forth faster than a bee’s wings.”

  The neighbors are talking about me? My smile faded.

  “We don’t all take too kindly to a romance novel writer on the street. No telling what kind of things goes on in your house in the name of research.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “But personally, I’m not adverse to a little bodice ripping once in awhile, if you know what I mean.”

  I literally didn’t know what to say.

  Marion splashed some water on the sidewalk for Sadie to lap up. “I guess you’ve heard about the tragedy at Ethel’s.”

  I perked up. “Ethel?”

  “Yeah. My neighbor. Ethel Lincoln” Marion picked up a large set of pruning shears. “Seems she was stabbed in the back with these, and you have her dog.” She chuckled at my shocked look. “Not these in particular, but stabbed with shears. Last night. She doesn’t have any family so no one knows if anything was taken.” Snip. A faded rose fell to the ground. “My opinion … someone wanted to Shut. Her. Up.”

  I took a step back from the potential weapon in her hands. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, she’s filed about one too many complaints with the Home Owners Association. This person’s grass is too long, that one doesn’t take their garbage can back by six, the list is endless. My opinion … she sicced the HOA on somebody with a secret to hide.” Marion winked at me. “We aren’t the perfect community we appear to be.”

  3

  I completed the rest of the walk home in a state of shock. One of my neighbors was a murderer and the rest, if Mrs. Henley was any indication, were most likely just plain nuts. I stopped two doors down and stared at my house.

  What was Detective Steele doing in front of my house and why was he carrying boxes? I moved to the edge of the driveway and stared as he laughed at something Mom said. If I thought he looked good last night in pants and a shirt and tie, he looked gorgeous in jeans and a tee shirt. Funny how I hadn’t noticed when I saw him half an hour ago. Too busy covering up my lie for being at the crime scene, I supposed.

  “What’s going on?” I held tight to Sadie’s leash as she tried to rip my arm out of its socket in her attemp
t to welcome Detective Steele.

  “Matthew here is one of our neighbors,” Mom gushed. “He saw us working and offered to help. We’ll have things set up inside in no time.”

  I cringed at the sight of a flowered sateen sofa being carried through the front door. “Matthew?”

  “Or Matt.” Laugh lines flirted around the corners of his eyes. “I live one block over. I’m off duty today; saw your mother struggling with a box, so I offered my services.”

  I nodded and narrowed my eyes. Off duty and still snooping around the dead lady’s house? Something was fishy in Oak Meadow Estates and the most handsome fish of all might just be a shark. A person heard about cops on the take all the time. Matthew Steele would need somebody to keep an eye on him. I mentally volunteered my services. No, just because cops were sometimes on the take in books and movies didn’t make it true in life. My thoughts were ridiculous. Still, I would keep an eye on the gorgeous, I mean, suspicious, detective.

  “I’ll go put on a pot of coffee.” I unclipped Sadie’s leash and let her cavort around the workers’ heels. Who knew where my mother managed to drum up help, but she did. My house fairly burst at the seams with muscled men. My nerves prickled my skin, itching to burst free. I really needed to overcome this phobia of crowds, of people, especially if I was going to nose around asking questions.

  I scooped aromatic granules into the filter and pressed the on button. Soon, the wonderful smell of fresh ground coffee filled my kitchen and my stress began to melt away. Until Matt walked in and lounged, oh, so casually, against my counter.

  “How’s your head today?”

  “Fine.” I reached in the cabinet above my head for mugs. “If I don’t touch it or move too fast.”

  “This is a beautiful house.” Matt stepped closer. “I’m in the process of fixing mine up but it’s more of a cottage style.”

  Cutting a sideways look at him, I took a step away. “My mother will manage to take away some of its beauty with her decorating.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, she’s got some wild-patterned furniture. It’s nice of you to let them stay.”

  Not that I had a choice, really. “Just until they find their own place.” I hoped.

  “Still,” he shrugged. “It’s a good gesture.”

  Maybe, but I didn’t want to talk about my family. “Why didn’t you tell me Mrs. Lincoln was stabbed with pruning shears? Why didn’t the killer stab me? Do you know what he hit me with?” The startled look on his face as I peppered him with questions was priceless. I bit my lip to keep from grinning.

  Matt held up his hands. “Whoa. Where did you find out this information?”

  I gave him my version of the Cheshire cat. “People talk. Probably more to me than they will to you, seeing as I’m a woman, and you’re a cop.” Coffee finished, I grabbed the pot and started pouring drinks. I handed him the first one. “Well?”

  “The shears were found in the bushes. We think you were hit with a rock. We found one with a smear of blood and a few strands of hair that look like yours.” He took a sip. “And we are not entitled to share information with a civilian.”

  “Oh, really. Then I won’t share whatever I find out with you.” I filled a mug for myself and marched out of the room.

  He followed. “That would be impeding an investigation. Meaning, it’s against the law.”

  “Coffee’s on!” I yelled out the front door then headed to the living room and gasped. It looked like a florist shop vomited across my hardwood floors.

  Every piece of furniture was covered with flowered fabric. Even my leather armchair had a floral throw tossed across the back. I wanted to throttle my mother. “I’m going to my office.”

  “Stormi.”

  “What?”

  “If you know anything, you have to tell me.” Matt stopped at the bottom of the stairs and stared up at me. I had to admit it gave me a small sense of power. The fact that if I swooned I’d land in his arms didn’t escape me either, but I had never swooned in my life. “Or at least another officer. Did you go fill out the report?”

  Oops. “Okay.” I smiled and continued to my office. Ah, sanctuary. I sank into my plush leather chair and swiveled to look out the window.

  Acre lots afforded a lot of privacy but I could still make out my next door neighbors. A middle-aged couple lounging beside their pool. Raised voices drifted through my open window. A marital spat perhaps? I smiled and lifted my mug. Now that I’d decided to write a romantic mystery, I’d see sinister motives around every corner. What fun.

  Mom sashayed to the fence, waved a hand in greeting. “Hello!”

  The couple tossed half-hearted gestures in return, stood, and disappeared into their ranch-style house. Mom’s shoulders slumped before she turned back to the house. How could someone be so mean? Sure, Mom could be annoying, but she meant well. I set my mug down hard enough to splash the dark liquid onto my cherry wood desk.

  The window to their kitchen faced my direction and from the body language and arm swinging, it looked like they still argued. I leaned forward. The chubby man wasn’t going to hit his rail-thin wife, was he? I decided to keep an eye on the two while I enjoyed my morning beverage. After wiping up the spill, I propped my feet on the windowsill and crossed my ankles. This must be what my agent meant about people watching. I kind of liked being the nosy neighbor.

  “Does it matter which bedrooms we all choose?” Mom stuck her head in the door.

  “As long as it isn’t mine.”

  “Gotcha.” She withdrew.

  My bedroom adjoined my office with the bathroom connecting to the other side. If I stood in one, I could see all the way to the other, if the doors were open. An improvement I’d designed myself. That way, if I really got to pacing while stuck writing, I had plenty of room.

  My neighbors finally moved away from the window, and I scooted my chair back. I booted up my computer and jotted down notes for the new story. Then, I sent off an email to my agent letting her know the new path I’d decided to take. Hopefully, she’d be as excited about it as I was.

  Loud laughter bounced up the stairs and slid under the door, pulling me away from my thoughts. Sounded like Mom already hosting her first party. It wouldn’t occur to her to let the movers leave without fixing them a meal. I thought of my empty pantry and full freezer and wondered what she’d managed to throw together. Curiosity got the better of me, and I turned off my laptop and headed to the kitchen.

  Most of the crowd seemed to have gathered in the backyard by then, and my sister, Angela was in her element passing out sodas and water to the men. I sent a puzzled look in my mother’s direction.

  “Matthew made a run for me.” She waved a pizza box over her head. “I hope you didn’t mind. Your purse was on the table.”

  I glanced at my watch … three o’clock? I’d spent more time in my office than I’d thought.

  Matthew strode my way with a grin and holding a tall glass of Diet Coke. “Where’d you hide all day?”

  “Working. Thanks.” I closed my eyes and took a drink of icy heaven. “So, you and Mom are on a first-name basis?”

  He laughed and sat on a camping stool. Seems Mom managed to collect a menagerie of seats for her impromptu gathering. “I think she’s on a first-name basis with everyone here, your sister, too. Most of these guys are fellow officers, glad for a day off and willing to help.”

  I nodded and collapsed into the nearest lawn chair. “How long have you lived here?”

  “About two years.”

  “How are the neighbors? I mean, are they friendly? I haven’t had much of an opportunity to mingle in the few months I’ve been here.”

  “True and all the neighbors have been speculating about you.” He winked. “I convinced them you weren’t a raving homicidal maniac, but haven’t been able to steer them from the immoral romance author angle.”

  “Thanks for that. Who lives nearest to me?” I motioned to my right.

  He craned his neck to peer around me. “That would
be Herman and Cecelia Edgars. They stay pretty much to themselves. There are a few families in the development, people with kids around your niece’s and nephew’s ages. A lot of retired people and a few of us single ones.”

  “Anyone capable of murder?” Sadie pushed her snout under my hand. “Where you been, sweetie? Enjoying the party?”

  His eyes hardened. “Everyone is capable of murder under the right circumstances.”

  I took a gulp of my drink and instantly recoiled in pain. Brain freeze. My face contorted.

  “Put your tongue on the top of your mouth.”

  I did, and the roof eventually warmed. Now, people might not be my favorite animal, but I liked to believe there was more good in the human race than bad. “I disagree.”

  “Then I hope you never have cause to find out what you’re capable of.” Matt crushed his can and stood. “I’m getting another. Want anything?”

  “A slice of pizza please.” I admired the view as he moved away. Firm, tall, muscular, very nice back side. An alpha male. Yeah, I could see how he might be able to kill under the right circumstances. After all, he’d been trained. I hoped his weapon of choice wasn’t garden tools.

  Angela squealed as a burly man wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. Cherokee sashayed by with a young man hanging on her shoulders. Mom skipped by with a platter of hot wings. The only family member unaccounted for was Dakota. He’d most likely holed up somewhere with his video games since there weren’t any young girls his age. It never failed to surprise me how amorous people, even strangers, seemed to get during springtime.

  “Your order, madam.” Matt plopped on the grass at my feet and leaned against my knees.