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

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Forgive me if I’ve overstepped my boundaries, but I’ve done background checks on all the residents and there are holes that need to be filled in. There will be questionnaires passed out at the end of the meeting. Please fill these out in their entirety and return to me. There will also be a sign-up sheet for volunteers willing to take turns patrolling the neighborhood.”

  “I’m not doing any patrolling at night when there is a murderer running loose,” Mrs. Olson said. “That’s a job best left to the police.”

  “I agree.” Sarah Thompson stood. “As an aspiring writer of crime dramas, I’m as interested in anyone about the identity of the killer, but I’m not going to put myself out there to be killed. If you know something about someone, it is your duty to come clean, Miss Nelson.”

  “Yes, Miss Nelson, please do tell us what you know,” Matt said before setting his mouth into a firm line.

  “I will inform the police of my findings within the next few days.” There. That should be the match to the flame I needed. “Any more questions? No? Then meeting adjourned. Enjoy the food.”

  I stepped down from the podium only to find my arm firmly grasped by Matt and myself dragged from the room. “Slow down.”

  “What in the heck do you think you’re doing?” He stopped in a small alcove away from the main hall. “Do you want to get yourself killed?”

  “I’m trying to draw out the killer. I think this will work.”

  “Most likely you’ll be dead in three days.” He raked his fingers through his hair, leaving the wheat-colored strands standing up like stalks of grain. “Do I need to put you under house arrest?”

  “That won’t stop the guilty party from coming after me.” I crossed my arms and set my jaw. “I have a big dog, a Taser, and a houseful of people. Once the killer shows up, we’ll call you. You can be there in two minutes.”

  “Woman, you’re killing me. Haven’t you thought of your family at all?”

  Tears pricked my eyes. “That’s why I’m doing this. I made a stupid decision just to write a book and now it has gone too far for me to back out now.”

  “I give up.” His shoulders slumped. “I’ll assign a police officer to sit outside your house until this is over.”

  I shook my head. “That will deter the killer.”

  “I’ll have him in an unmarked car. Just, please, keep your mother from taking him food or it will be a dead giveaway.”

  I cringed at his choice of words. “Are you even close to catching this person?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “That means no.”

  “It means I can’t tell you.” He rolled his neck on his shoulders. “I have a primary suspect, yes.”

  “Good. The case is almost solved. You’re welcome.” I turned to go.

  He stepped in front of me to stop me. “Welcome for what?”

  “Helping you.” I flashed him a grin, blinked away the tears, and went back to the meeting room to mingle with my suspects.

  Mary Ann rushed toward me. “You are the bravest person I’ve ever met. Everyone is talking about what you could possibly know about them. The Edgares are talking about moving and Mrs. Henley is mad enough to chew glass because you’ve been snooping in her house.” She planted fists on her slim hips. “And you didn’t call me to go with you, naughty girl. Sarah Thompson is fuming because she says you are determined to write a better book than her and that you are stealing all of her notes. Everyone is leaving the meeting, taking their food with them.”

  It seemed as if I set the whole neighborhood on edge, which was exactly what I had intended. Now, I needed to warn Sarah from saying too much. If the killer thought she knew more than me, she could be the next target. I stood on my tip-toes to see over Mary Ann’s head. The Thompsons were nowhere in sight.

  I fetched Mom and hurried outside. “We need to find Sarah Thompson.”

  “Why? I need to gather up my dishes before we leave.”

  “I think she might be the next victim.” I strained to see down the street. The sun had not fully set yet, but the couple were nowhere in sight. Instead, the setting sun cast long shadows along the sidewalk and in-between the houses, providing perfect places for someone to hide in wait. “I need to warn her.”

  “I’ll go with you while Ann collects her things,” Mary Ann offered.

  “No, I need you to tell your brother to check Rusty’s apartment for a wall full of photographs.”

  Her eyebrows rose into her hairline. “Excuse me?”

  “He’ll see when he goes in there. Come on.” I took her hand and set off at a run toward the Thompson house.

  A dark van drove past and we dove into the bushes. “Was that Mrs. Henley?”

  Mary Ann shrugged. “It could have been the Edgars’, I guess. They drive a van. They use it to cart around all the stuff they’re clearing out of the house. They said something to Matt about donating most of it to charity. I guess they bought an estate sale, complete with everything in it, including the older model van.”

  I shook my head and stood. “Come on. We’re wasting time.”

  A scream reverberated from the Thompson’s ranch house.

  21

  Matt dashed past us and banged on the Thompson’s front door. Within seconds, it opened and he rushed inside.

  Mary Ann and I followed close on his heels, only to be greeted with scowls from both Matt and the Thompsons. “We heard a scream,” I said, one hand on my pocket where I kept my Taser.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Sarah huffed and shook her head. “My imbecile of a husband spilled coffee all over my manuscript. Now, I have to start all over.”

  Not exactly bad news in my book. “Didn’t you save it on your computer?”

  “I typed it on a typewriter. After all,” She tossed her head, “all the greats were done on a typewriter or by longhand. I want to be like those who have gone before.”

  Then she needed a different subject matter. “We have reason to believe you may be in danger.”

  “Stormi,” Matt warned. He gave an imperceptible nod of his head, which I chose to ignore. Someone’s life might be at stake.

  “No, I’m sorry, but I will not be quiet.” I focused a stern look on Sarah. “Regardless of our disagreements, I believe that your talking about research for your novel has put a target on your back. If you know who the killer is, you need to tell Matt. If you don’t know, then you need to stop acting as if you do.”

  “This is the pot calling the kettle black.” Sarah crossed her arms. “You’re doing the very same thing.”

  “We’re not talking about me.”

  “Enough.” Matt stepped between us. “Both of you need to stop the nonsense and stop messing with a police investigation. Mrs. Thompson, be careful. I’d advise you not to go anywhere alone for a while. Stormi, go home. You, too, Mary Ann.”

  “Fine.” Mary Ann grabbed my arm and dragged me outside. “Let’s go to your house.”

  Once we were inside and helped Mom clean up the pot luck dishes the three of us sat around the table. “Has anyone heard anything from Torie’s boyfriend?” Mom asked. “Isn’t it suspicious that he’s been gone all this time? That the last time he was seen was moments before she was killed? I can’t stop thinking about that.”

  How could I have forgotten about him? Now, not only was Rusty missing in action, but so was the volatile Bob.

  A knock on the backdoor sent us all into a screaming fit. Mom and I whipped out our Tasers while Mary Ann hid behind us. Matt walked through the door and shook his head. “Good grief.”

  “What are you doing here?” Mary Ann resumed her seat.

  “Warning the three of you, again, to let me do my job.”

  “Then you need to take a look at the photos plastered in Rusty’s apartment.” Since I’d dragged Mary Ann with me to the Thompson house, she hadn’t had time to tell her brother of my discovery. “There are tons of them. All of the people in this neighborhood. The victims have been crossed out with a red mar
ker.”

  His features set into granite. For several seconds, he did nothing but stare stonily at me, most likely piecing together that I was the one who had trespassed in Mrs. Henley’s home. I might as well write off any chance of romance with the delectable Matthew Steele. The thought was a knife to the gut.

  “Stay here.” He whirled and marched out.

  “Ooooh, he likes you.” Mary Ann wiggles her eyebrows.

  “Hardly.”

  “If he didn’t, he would have arrested you just now.” She cocked her head. “So, what’s our next plan of action? Obviously, we have two, possibly three, main suspects. The Edgars, Mrs. Henley, and Bob. Since Bob is gone, let’s focus on the other two and rule them out by process of elimination.”

  “I can help with that.” Angela appeared in the doorway. “The Edgars are here via the Witness Protection Program and will soon be moved because of all the hoopla.” She studied her manicure. “My dear little sister disrupts lives wherever she goes.”

  Not until I’d decided to write a book about the body I stumbled over, but I would let my sister believe what she wanted. It obviously made her feel important. I moved to the front window and peered through a crack in the curtains. “Matt is talking to someone in a dark sedan. That must be the cop he’s assigned to watch the house.”

  “Good deduction, Sherlock.” Angela joined me. “That’s my boyfriend, Wayne Jones. He volunteered so he could keep me safe.”

  Good. The man had a vested interest in us, then. Soon after, Matt jogged back to the house and entered through the unlocked front door. Hadn’t we learned anything over the last few weeks? I turned and glared at Mom.

  She shrugged. “I thought I locked it.”

  “There are no photos in Rusty’s apartment,” Matt said.

  “Then someone removed them.” I sagged onto the sofa. “They were probably gone soon after I found them.”

  “So, it was you that went into Mrs. Henley’s home. Who helped you?”

  I clamped my lips shut.

  “You are treading on dangerous ground. Who. Helped. You?”

  “I did.” Dakota stepped into the room. “Aunt Stormi and I make a good team. I’m also the one who found out that old bat served time in jail. Are you going to arrest me?” Despite the belligerent posture in which he stood, shoulders back, arms crossed, I couldn’t miss the look of vulnerability in his eyes.

  “You dragged my son along with you?” Angela bent over, her face mere inches from mine. “Are you stupid?”

  “I made her let me come. If she would have said no, I would have followed her.” Dakota plopped down next to me. “There’s nothing else to do around here.”

  She threw her hands up in the air. “This whole family is crazy.”

  “Who’s in the car out front?” Cheyenne sidled through the front door wearing cut off shorts over her bikini. “It’s creepy.”

  “Where have you been?” Angela whirled.

  “At the lake.” Cheyenne scowled and headed upstairs. “Don’t have a conniption fit,” she tossed over her shoulder.

  “You need to watch your children better.” Mom turned and headed for the kitchen.

  Matt’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he shook his head. “This family is going to kill me.” He turned and slammed the front door behind him as he left.

  I got off the couch and locked the door. “Now what?”

  Mary Ann shrugged. “I’d better go home and prepare myself for a long lecture. I’ll call you tomorrow. No more snooping without me, okay? I have a GPS on my phone. That way, if something happens to us, Matt can find us.” She flashed a grin, unlocked the door, and followed her brother.

  I relocked the door, avoiding my sister’s angry looks. “I’m headed to bed. See you tomorrow.” With it being Saturday, the entire family would be home. Maybe I’d hole up in my office like a hermit. Oh, how I missed my solitary life.

  I headed through my bedroom and into the office to get a clear view of the street. Wouldn’t it be more inconspicuous if the detective out front was hidden? Everyone knew every car. Except for the rash of gray vans, that is. Anyone interested would know the police had set Detective Jones up as a lookout.

  A light flicked on in Rusty’s apartment. The plump figure of Mrs. Henley passed back and forth a couple of times before the light turned off. What could she be looking for? The photos had disappeared, and most likely the notepad. I palmed my forehead. I had completely forgot to tell Matt about the note stating the bad man did it.

  Could Rusty be the killer and his guilt-stricken mother covering for him? She’d said many times she would do anything to protect him because of giving him up so many years ago. I turned the blinds to closed.

  I was very close to discovering the killer’s identity. I knew it in my gut. Ugh. I’d also forgotten to ask Angela why the Edgars’ were in protective custody. She wouldn’t tell me anything now. Not after dragging her little boy into possible danger.

  She was right. I should have locked him in his room rather than let him accompany me. Still, his presence had provided a measure of comfort. I wasn’t cut out to be a crime-solver. I was a romance writer! I was in my element writing about hunky heroes and strong women who knew what they wanted out of life.

  What did I want? I fell backward across my bed. To be a successful author … check. To own a beautiful home … check. To find a man to grow old with … no check.

  Although solving a crime of murder hadn’t been on my bucket list, and I’d spent most of the last few weeks scared out of my mind for the safety of my family, I’d gone too far to turn back now. Not to mention the thrill of playing detective. It was like a drug that once taken, stayed in your blood stream. Still, it might be time to take the family on an extended vacation until everything blew over.

  I could still finish my book. The crime would be in all the newspapers once it was solved. I could fill in the blanks. I wrote fiction, after all. But the adventure, while dangerous, had brought Mom and I closer than I had ever thought possible. Add in the fact that I didn’t want anyone to have to die like my father had, and I thought I had a perfectly good reason for finding the killer.

  My whole life had been spent in my older sister’s shadow, until I published that first book. Then, everything changed. While Mom still thought Angela needed more attention than I did, I had no longer cared. Which I knew now to be a lie. Mom and I shared a common sense of adventure, and I wasn’t ready to let that go.

  If only my selfish desire hadn’t cost me the possibility of a relationship with Matt. I got up and undressed, then slipped into a short summer nightgown and got under the sheet I covered with in the summer.

  Around me, the sounds of the household and neighborhood quieted. Sadie plopped onto her dog bed with a sigh. Ebony and Ivory spread across my feet. No matter what might happen the next day, that night all was right with my world. My family, including the pets, was safe. I’d accomplished, I hoped, what I meant to with the neighborhood meeting. Only time would tell what was to come. I said a prayer for safety and wisdom and closed my eyes.

  So much for quiet. Angela shouted some more at Dakota, doors slammed, and footsteps pounded down the hall. Cheyenne added her two cents worth, and Mom said something about waking the neighbors. I shook my head and slapped a pillow over my ears.

  Once things seemed to settle down again, I rolled to my back and stared through the dim light at my ceiling. Notes, suspects, and guesses whirled like water down a drain. Certain pieces would slow, then speed back up before I could make sense of them. The killer was right there at the edge of my brain, yet continued to slip out of reach. Wait.

  I bolted upright. Had Matt thought to trace the shears that had killed Mrs. Lincoln? Of course, he had. He was a detective. Rusty had once called Bob a bad man. His note stated the bad man did it. Had the police found any evidence of who had ransacked my office shortly after Mom’s arrival? Where was Bob?

  I searched my memory for anything in Mrs. Lincoln’s home or Mrs. He
nley’s that would fill in a blank. I focused on the women’s kitchens and the wood blocks of knives that had set on their counters, a block very similar to the one Mom brought into my house. Mrs. Lincoln’s block had been full.

  The final piece clicked into place as a gunshot rang out from next door.

  22

  I met Mom in the hall. “Stay here. Keep Sadie in the house. I’ll be right back.”

  “Take your Taser,” she said. “And get that cop out of his car to go with you. I’ll call Matt.” She grabbed the landline off a hall table. She turned to me, a stricken look on her face. “Phone’s dead. I’ll try to find a cell phone.”

  “I think mine is on my bed somewhere.” I was pretty sure I fell asleep with it beside me. She would most likely find it tangled in the blanket. “If you can’t find it, get yours.” I grabbed my Taser, and dashed outside.

  Mrs. Henley rushed toward me. “Get in the house,” she said. “There’s a murderer running loose.”

  “But the Edgars—”

  “They’re on their own.” She shoved me. “I’m scared out of my mind, Stormi. Get me inside where it’s safe.”

  “Okay, but—” I had distinctly heard a gunshot. “You go on in. I’ll be there after I check on them. On second thought, why don’t you come with me? There is safety in numbers.” No way, did I want her going into my house.

  She grabbed my arm and dragged me inside, locking the front door behind us. “Where’s the rest of your brood?”

  “Upstairs. Why—”

  “Stop yapping.” She pulled a hand gun from inside her house dress. How could anyone hide a gun in their bra? “Get them all into the kitchen. Now.”

  “I knew it was you. When I saw the missing knife, well, I didn’t realize it then, but I just put the pieces—” She put the gun to my head. I stopped talking and yelled for the others to come downstairs. My heart sank upon hearing their footsteps and complaints at being woken in the middle of the night. Their annoyance was nothing compared to what waited for them in the kitchen.

  Tears blurred my vision as one-by-one by family trooped down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mom sniffed and gave Mrs. Henley a look that should have killed her where she stood. “You.”