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

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Don’t we want people to look out? What if your stalker turns violent?”

  “I have my pepper spray.”

  “Darn it, I forgot mine.” Mom glanced around us. “Every time I go somewhere with you my life is in danger.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Let’s finish this walk and get home.”

  “Let’s go grab an ice cream.”

  “It’s cold out.”

  Mom shrugged. “I feel like a hot fudge sundae.”

  “Fine.” We continued down the street and out of the development, reaching the ice cream parlor fifteen minutes before they closed. While I didn’t understand ice cream on a cold night at almost nine o’clock, I couldn’t turn it down once we were inside, leaving Sadie tied to a lamp post outside the door. I ordered yogurt with granola on top and chose a table near the window.

  While I waited for Mom to add her five pounds of toppings to her sundae, I glanced out the window. I never tired of gazing on Main Street no matter the season. During spring the place abounded with flowers, summer brought painted window fronts and colorful flags, autumn brought fall foliage with gourds and pumpkins, while winter brought an abundant of Christmas decorations to be enjoyed through February. Tonight, though, all I could see was the coated person staring at me from across the street.

  I bolted from my seat and out the front door. “Hey!” My sneakered feet slapped the sidewalk as I sprinted after the stalker. “Stop and face me you coward.” I plunged my hand into my pocket and pulled out my pepper spray. If I caught up with the stranger, they’d regret ever following me around.

  We raced down an alley. At the end, a street lamp had burned out, casting the area into a variety of shadows. My stalker stopped at the end and turned to face me. Without being able to see their face, the person reminded me of one of those faceless mask costumes that teenagers favored at Halloween. I stopped about fifty feet from them. There was absolutely no way in Hades I was taking one step closer.

  It all came down to a stand-off until Sadie came to my side, barking her fool head off. The stranger jumped on top of some boxes and then scaled over a chain link fence, struggling a bit to get over.

  “I sent the dog to rescue you.” Mom bustled up clutching her ice cream in one hand and mine in the other. “I had to bring these because they’re closing and the teenager behind the counter was giving me dirty looks.”

  “Sadie effectively scared away the stalker. Thanks.” I took my yogurt.

  “You don’t sound happy.”

  “I was trying to discover their identity.” I tossed the yogurt into a nearby dumpster. “This is the second time I’ve seen him. I spotted them on Saturday when I went for coffee.”

  “You need to let Matt know,” she mumbled around a mouthful of fudge.

  “I will.” As soon as I checked my emails to see whether I had more to tell him. I never should have decided to switch genres. Sweet, slightly heated, romances weren’t dangerous in the least. But no, my agent wanted me to get out more. All that accomplished was me stumbling over a dead body and almost getting myself killed, not to mention this newest danger. Still, I was now hooked on using real life mysteries as plots for my books. I couldn’t see a way out.

  Thirty minutes later, we arrived home to discover Matt waiting on the front porch swing. I grinned, released Sadie from her leash, and rushed to greet him with a big kiss. I slid up under his arms, pressing close for warmth and security.

  “What’s wrong?” Matt tipped my face to his.

  “I have a stalker.”

  “I know that.”

  “No, I mean, I have someone who follows me and dresses in a trench coat and hat. Mom and I just saw him on our walk.” I laid my cheek against his chest. “I can’t tell whether they are male or female.”

  He pulled me into the house. “How long has this been going on?”

  “I first spotted him on Saturday, but wasn’t sure they were following me. Now, I’m sure. Mom and I saw him twice tonight. Sadie scared them off.”

  He frowned. “Let’s go make some coffee. I’m calling Koontz. We have some things to figure out.”

  I nodded and headed for the coffee pot while he pressed buttons on his cell phone. Mom soon joined us and set out four cups. She was no longer dressed all in black, having changed her top to a forest green, long-sleeved tee shirt, of which I was grateful. Her spy clothes only served as a reminder that danger crept closer. Soon, the heady aroma of percolating coffee filled the kitchen.

  While Matt conversed on his phone, I headed to my office to unplug my laptop and carry it back to the kitchen. If I was going to have an audience while I checked my emails, I might as well give us plenty of room to gather around the screen.

  The doorbell rang, setting Sadie barking, and Mom hurried to answer it. Koontz entered, filling the kitchen with his bulk. “So, what’s happening?” He swung a kitchen chair around and straddled it.

  “Stormi’s stalker is now appearing in physical form,” Matt said. “She spotted the person on Saturday and twice tonight.”

  “You make it sound as if we’re dealing with something alien.” Appeared in physical form. That struck me as funny, and I concentrated on pouring the coffee in order not to get caught grinning and lectured because danger wasn’t funny.

  “The culprit is escalating in their behavior,” Koontz said. “I make it a habit to frequent the coffee shop as often as possible, and there are a lot of regulars. I’m trying to chat each of them up in order to get a name to do a search on, but some of them get pretty upset about being disturbed. Seems like there are an awful lot of wannabe authors that hang out there.”

  “Free wifi,” I said, handing each of the men a cup of coffee before pouring some for Mom and I. “Plus, there’s a certain stigma to writing while surrounded by books and readers.”

  I set my coffee next to my laptop, then sat in my chair and waited until the guys decided it was time to check the emails. They stared at each other over the rim of their cups. By this time, I knew Matt well enough to know he was trying to figure out more ways of keeping me confined to my house. Need I remind him I was abducted from my home six months ago? If someone wants me, there are ways of getting close. I cared more about the safety of my family.

  “I need you to help me keep a closer eye on Stormi,” Matt said, setting his cup with precision on the table in front of him. “I know she won’t stay in the house, even though she’s recently installed a security system. I try to be around as much as possible, but with work … maybe the two of us could take turns?”

  Ooops. I keep forgetting to set the alarm, a bit of information I decided to keep to myself.

  “We have an alarm?” Mom stared wide-eyed around the table.

  Maybe it was a good thing she would soon have her own apartment in the basement. “I keep forgetting to set it.” I avoided Matt’s gaze and turned on my laptop.

  He sighed heavily. “She’s a lost cause, Ryan. Sometimes I think I’d rather be tackled by you than have to talk sense into her.”

  Koontz laughed. “College sure was fun.” He speared me with a dark-eyed gaze. “Look, girl. We’re trying to do our part to keep you breathing, but you gotta help us here. That means setting your alarm, not going anywhere alone, listening to your man—”

  “I listen.”

  “Not very well,” Matt added.

  The hurt in his voice brought tears to my eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better, I promise. But I can’t sit around and let my family be in danger. You need my help finding out who is threatening me.”

  “Then do your research from the safety of your house,” he said. “With the alarm set.”

  I nodded and pulled up my email. “I’ve got a message from my friend.”

  Matt and Koontz stood and moved to each side of me. I opened the email and read.

  “How is it possible for you to be writing while wandering the streets and having ice cream? It seems as if you have too many distractions in your life. I will have to help you cut down on them.�
�

  9

  “What do they mean?” I glanced into Matt’s worried eyes. Cut down on my distractions? That could only mean my family … or Matt. Suddenly, writing my novels had lost some of its joy. Instead of working at something I loved, I had to work in order to prevent something horrible from happening.

  I leaped from my chair. “I need to get busy on my book.”

  Matt put a hand on my shoulder and eased me back down. “No, you’ll sit here until we decide what to do.” He and Koontz resumed their seats.

  “Mom, do you still have the keys to Dad’s old hunting cabin?” I could stay there while I wrote my book. No distractions, no worries over danger to my family. My mind leaped from one possibility to the next. If we no longer owned Dad’s cabin, I’d rent one.

  “Yes---”

  “Absolutely not.” Matt glowered. “You will not head off somewhere remote on your own.”

  “I don’t know what else to do!” Tears stung my eyes. If I didn’t get away, I might lose someone very close to me. “This … this freak, is watching every move I make. They’re probably listening to us right now.”

  Matt froze then motioned his head for Koontz to head to the other room. Koontz nodded and carefully slid back his chair and soft-stepped away from us. Matt held a finger to his lips. Oh, no. I might have landed on something. I might really have an uninvited guest. Would the perpetrator be upset that I’d called them a freak? I folded my arms and rested my head on the tabletop.

  Mom patted my shoulder. “I suppose we could all take a little vacation.”

  “No. I won’t endanger you. Either I go or you go, but we won’t stay together.”

  “Hog wash.” Mom slapped the table top. “We’re family.”

  Matt put his lips against my ear. His breath sent my nerves tingling. “Stop talking,” he whispered before straightening.

  I nodded. I didn’t want any potential eavesdroppers to know what I was considering. Of course, the wacko after me would more than likely be pleased. With my family gone, I could focus on writing this story they insisted I create. A story where they took center stage.

  I pulled up my file and started to type, describing the crazed maniac killer as a poor unfortunate soul who lived alone, so severely disfigured that children ran screaming into the night at a mere glimpse of them. If my stalker wanted a story of their own, they would get one no one would soon forget.

  “What are you doing?” Mom’s horrified gasp filled the kitchen as she read over my shoulder.

  “Writing.”

  She clamped her lips closed and stomped to the other side of the room as Koontz reentered the kitchen, a small silver disc in the palm of his large hand. “Termites.”

  “Good grief,” Mom said. “I’ll call the exterminator in the morning.”

  I glanced up from my screen. Seriously? Seconds later the growl of the garbage disposer sounded as it ate our little bug. “Are there more?”

  Koontz shrugged. “I’ll have a team check it out in the morning. Please, use the alarm.”

  Angela waltzed into the room, took one look at Koontz, and simpered, batting her eyes. I shook my head, wanting to tell the big man to run as far and as fast as he could to escape her clutches, but then decided he was big enough to handle my sister.

  “What’s going on?” Angela glanced from one of us to the other.

  “We have bugs.” Mom sighed. “As if we don’t have enough to deal with. It’s these old houses. There’s always something to be done.”

  I feared the stress of back-to-back murder mysteries was affecting Mom’s mind. I typed that we were bugged on my laptop screen, showed it to Angela, then erased the words. She nodded and poured herself a cup of coffee. She blew into the hot drink while watching Mom stare out the window.

  Without having taken a sip, she set her cup on the table and exhaled heavily. “I think I’m going to take the kids away for a couple of weeks. I’ll plead a family emergency. Matt, you’ll back me up at the station, right?”

  He nodded. “Ann?”

  Mom shook her head. “Not leaving. No one is.”

  I seriously doubted everything would be wrapped up within two weeks, and I didn’t fault Mom for wanting to stay. After all, she was in the middle of opening her dream business. “Don’t go, Angela. I just need to write this book as fast as humanly possible and get it off to my editor. Then my crazy stalker will leave us all alone.” I hoped. I prayed.

  A ding sounded, signaling a new email. Immediately everyone gathered around my laptop.

  “You jumping yet?” I read.

  “What the heck does that mean?” Angela asked. “You know …” she tapped the screen with one long cotton-candy pink fingernail. “I think this person is just playing games with you to give you fodder for a new book. That’s what you get when you write about things that really happen to you. People get weird and want their own minutes of fame.”

  Although I agreed with her as to my stalker’s reasoning, I didn’t appreciate her somehow making it sound as if our current fix was my fault. “I didn’t plan this.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe not, but you sure know how to mess up things.” She grabbed her coffee, tossed Koontz a dazzling smile, and sashayed out of the kitchen, informing us on her way that maybe she wouldn’t leave after all. Why give some nutcase the satisfaction of running her out of her home?

  Again, I agreed, but my heart still raced in overdrive at the threat to my family. I met Matt’s gaze again and blinked away the tears. He pulled me out of my chair and into his arms. Never in a million years would I have thought a writer’s life could be so turbulent.

  “Show me again how to set the alarm, please.” I’d become a hermit, only leaving my house when armed with a gun, Tazer, and accompanied by a crowd.

  After planting a tender kiss on each of my eyelids, Matt led me to the front door where he once again showed me the sequence of button pushes that would help safeguard my house. “We’ll have a team in here tomorrow to check for any bugs. Possibly cameras, too. Maybe you should spend the night at a hotel?”

  I shook my head. “If someone has hidden cameras in my home, they’ve already seen everything I have to hide.” I shuddered. Perverts. What could someone possibly hope to gain by spying on me? That wouldn’t force me to write faster. Instead, I felt mud gathering in my brain, drowning the creative process.

  Wrapping my arms around Matt’s waist, I rested my forehead against his chest. “Sadie can act as a second warning system. She’d probably hide under the table, but she will at least bark first.”

  “I’m sorry about all this, sweetheart.” His arms tightened around me. “I’m doing my best to make it go away.”

  I vowed right then and there to put an end to the madness as soon as possible. I couldn’t chance anything happening to my family or Matt. Peering over his shoulder, I spotted Koontz speaking with Mom in a low voice. He put one beefy hand on her shoulder and steered her to the kitchen table. Her red-rimmed eyes increased the tears in mine. We were a family of strong women, but everyone has their breaking point, and I feared Mom was reaching hers.

  Koontz settled her into a chair and handed her a fresh cup of coffee. He cast a stern glance our way. “I’ll set up a schedule to have these folks watched at all times.”

  Mom patted his hand. “You’re such a dear. I’m fine. Go do what you need to.”

  The front door slammed, sending us all racing toward the front room in time to see Cherokee and Dakota latching the bolt as the alarm squealed a warning. They clamped their hands over their ears.

  “What did Aunt Stormi do now?” Cherokee yelled, rolling her eyes.

  “Where have you been?” Angela stood at the top of the stairs, one hand propped on her hip. “Do you know what time it is? Do you understand the danger lurking out there?”

  Matt reset the alarm. “Everything is fine. We can all relax.”

  “It’s only ten o’clock, Mom,” Dakota said. “We made curfew.”

  “Curfew is dusk unt
il this … this … whatever this person is can be put behind bars.” She whirled and stomped back to her room, leaving the teenagers with open mouths and scowls.

  “This is all so unfair.” Cherokee stormed after her mom.

  Fresh tears sprang to my eyes. Since when did I become so weepy? Maybe when fear and worry became such an integral part of me.

  Matt cupped my face in his hands, twining his fingers in my hair and touching his forehead to mine. “I know exactly what is going through that lovely mind of yours. Stop it. We will take care of this and you can go on writing your delightful stories without harassment.”

  If only I could believe him. I cast my eyes toward the window covered by thick curtains. I’d let him do his part to keep me and mine safe, but I’d also be doing everything I could, too. Sitting back and waiting for something to happen or for someone to dig up a vital piece of information wasn’t something I could do. Not after having successfully solved one murder mystery. There might be a lunatic lurking outside my door, but I resolved to catch the person before he could do any damage.

  “The wheels are turning.” Matt dragged me into the kitchen. “I can’t stress enough the importance of you laying low while we catch this guy.”

  “And I can’t tell you how important it is that I do something to help.” I pulled away. “If I sit and twiddle my thumbs, I’ll go stark-raving mad.”

  “Then snoop via the internet.” He ran his hands through his hair, causing the golden strands to stick up like porcupine quills.

  “Okay.”

  He didn’t say I had to use my internet. While I vowed to be safe, I wouldn’t be a prisoner. Angela was right in that regard. We could not let this twisted email stalker dictate our lives.

  “I’m also going to leak information that my next book will be released in the next month or two. This might help get this person to back off a little.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  I could see in his eyes that I’d already lost him and that, if anything, he thought my plan would keep me too busy to venture out and get into trouble. After a quick kiss on my lips, Matt joined Koontz by the front door, promising to check in on me in the morning. I waved him out, locked the door, and reset the alarm. If people kept coming and going, that little chore would get old very fast.