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

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Rose? I’m Stormi Nelson. I’ve brought you lunch.” I set the bowl on the table.

  “I know who you are.” Dark eyes peered from the folds of her face. “My daughter is obsessed with you.”

  Chills skipped up my spine. “How so?”

  “Didn’t you see the boxes of books? She buys them anywhere she can get them for a buck or two and resells them at full value. She’s nothing more than a crook and a slob.” She thinks because I can’t leave my room that I don’t know what she’s done to my house, but I have someone who comes and checks on my health once a week and I’ve been informed.”

  “Why aren’t you in a nursing home?”

  Tears sparkled in her eyes. “Cheryl refuses.”

  “Would you like to go?”

  “Yes. Very much.” She grasped my hand. “Can you make it happen?”

  “I know someone who can.” I patted her shoulder. “It was nice to meet you, Rose. I look forward to seeing you again when I can breathe properly.”

  She laughed, the sound so like the giggles of a small child that I couldn’t help but laugh along. I think Rose will be someone I enjoy visiting. “I’ll have someone stop by and help you as soon as possible.”

  “Don’t leave yet. Sit while I eat.”

  I had the feeling Cheryl left her mother alone a lot. “Will you want something else?”

  “I’d like some of those treats you brought, but I doubt my stingy daughter will share.”

  “I’ll bring you your own box.”

  She grinned. “Make sure you do. Food is my only comfort, if you can’t tell.”

  “I know of someone who can bring you the greatest comfort.”

  “You’re talking about God, aren’t you?” She shook her head. “I know, but this old body of mine can’t get to church anymore. That’s another reason I want out of this place. I feel like God can’t find me among all the junk.”

  “He knows you’re here, sweetie.” I sat back while she slurped her soup, grateful I’d come, even if I’d come under false pretenses. It warmed my heart to know I’d lessened someone’s loneliness, if only for a while. “Rose, you said Cheryl was obsessed with me. She wouldn’t be so far off the deep end that she’d stalk me, would she?”

  Rose’s hand paused halfway from the bowl to her mouth. “I don’t think so. I’m not sure how she would find the time.”

  “I don’t mean physically stalk, more like on a computer.”

  “That’s a possibility. That television of hers has the capabilities of a computer.”

  I nodded, my shoulders slumping. If someone could treat their mother the way Cheryl treated hers, it wasn’t hard to imagine them trying to kill someone who wasn’t a member of their family.

  “You almost done in there?” Cheryl called from the front of the house. “Don’t let Mom monopolize your time.”

  I sighed. “I’ll be back, Rose. I promise, and I’ll bring reinforcements.”

  “Be careful, then. My girl can carry a grudge like no other.”

  20

  One down, two more to go. By the time I’d collected a very disgusted Mary Ann from Cheryl’s clutches, Matt had already called social services, thanks to the wire in my bra. By the time they got there, Cheryl was stomping mad and had resigned as my book release planner. So sad. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over the rejection.

  “So,” I turned to Mary Ann. “What kind of ploy can we use on Norma Winston?”

  “Haven’t you angered enough people today?” Matt closed my door, then loped around to the driver’s side. Since there was no more reason for Matt to stay where Cheryl couldn’t see him, he wanted to drive.

  “I want this over with,” I said as he slid behind the wheel. “That means meeting with Norma and Ms. Dillow, preferably not at the same time. What do we know about Norma?”

  “She’s losing her home,” Mary Ann. “At least that’s the rumor through the grapevine. Not sure how that relates to her being your stalker, though. There’s no money in stalking, and she needs money.”

  “You’re right. It doesn’t make any sense for her to be the one harassing me.” I drummed my fingers on the armrest. Could it be that simple? Was it possible I’d narrowed my suspects down to two? I needed to focus on motive.

  I pulled the rubber signature stamp from my pocket. “Cheryl has been forging my signature and selling lots of my books for top dollar. Why? To make money. If she was against putting her mother in a nursing home, why the dire need for cash?”

  Matt pulled the van onto the highway. “Maybe she has an addiction we don’t know about?”

  “Yeah, chocolate,” Mary Ann said. “She didn’t offer me a single piece of those little cakes. Not that I could have eaten with that smell, but still. It really smelled as if something had died in there.”

  “I’ve called to have a clean-up crew empty out the house. The city said either Cheryl cleans it up or she’ll have to move.”

  That still didn’t give her a legitimate reason to stalk me. I gnawed my bottom lip. I couldn’t figure out a proper motive for Ms. Dillow, either. So, the library was cutting back and she could be out of a job. How did I fall into that?

  “While you three have been tossing ideas back and forth,” Ryan said, “I’ve been doing a bit of research on Norma Winston. She’s been picked up twice for solicitation and once for shop-lifting. Her Facebook page says she’s a writer of fan fiction. Guess who her model is?”

  “Me.” Now, we had a motive. “What’s the name of her book?”

  “Anything.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yep.”

  Not very creative. I ordered the ebook version on my cell phone and read drivel worse than Sarah Thompson’s fumbling sex stories. While the basic idea resembled my novel in a vague sort of way, there was enough sex scenes between the characters to stun the Pope into a coma. Still, Norma had several five star reviews and a high author ranking. She could very well be my stalker, especially if her writing depended on mine. I needed to stop by the coffee shop and talk to Tyler. I might as well create as much havoc in one day as possible, and get it out of the way.

  “I’m paying Tyler a visit while you return the van.” I stopped Matt’s protest. “I’m still wearing the wire. If I don’t talk to him, I won’t know the best way to meet with Norma.”

  “Everything you want to do goes against everything I believe in as a detective.”

  “We have to think outside the box. Take off your cop hat.”

  “I’m back to work tomorrow, Stormi.”

  I doubted the case would be solved by then. The worst part of him going back to work was the fact I’d be a prisoner in my home. How creative could I be at finding ways to sneak out? “All the more reason to do as much today as possible.”

  He pulled the van into the spot assigned to Mom’s store use and cut the engine. “We’ll wait inside, eating something wonderful.”

  I landed a kiss on his lips and bolted from the van before he could change his mind. “I’ll come get you when I know our next step.”

  The look on his face ranked on the thrill meter right above finding a spider in your salad. I hurried across the street.

  Thankfully, Tyler wasn’t waiting on customers. I spotted his dark head by the counter where customers grabbed sugar and napkins. “Hey, Tyler.”

  “Miss Nelson.” He refused to meet my eyes. “We heard you were poisoned by our coffee. Mom is devastated. How could that happen?”

  “I’m sure it was an accident.” I ducked to peer into his face. Tears shimmered under the black eyeliner. “Where’s your mother now? Maybe I could pay her a visit, show her I’m all right?”

  “She’s at home writing.” He filled the napkin dispenser. “Trying to be a writer like you and make some money.”

  There were easier ways of making money. Writing was hard work. “I’ll head over there right now and put her mind at ease.” I smiled. “What kind of dessert does she like?”

  “She’ll say nothing because s
he doesn’t want to get fat, but she loves red velvet cake.”

  Perfect. I said goodbye and headed to Mom’s shop, hoping she had something made with red velvet cake.

  “Cupcakes are all I have,” Mom stated the moment I walked through the door. “Take her two and sweeten her up. I’ll go broke at this rate.” She handed me a small white box with pink polka-dots.

  “This is pretty.”

  “The package is as important as what is inside. A lot of my supply orders are starting to trickle in. I feel very official.”

  Matt and Mary Ann followed me to my car, Ryan having headed to work for a few hours. I didn’t think Norma would mind too much having Matt around while I spoke with her, I still thought it important that I speak with her alone. “Park around the corner. I’ll walk up.”

  “Be careful,” Matt said. His eagerness to stay in the car immediately set my internal radar twanging.

  “What’s up?” I frowned. “It isn’t like you to let me go without some kind of attempt to change my mind.”

  “That woman makes my skin crawl.” He shuddered.

  I laughed. “She came on a little strong at the library, did she? Is my big bad detective afraid of a woman?”

  “I am of that one.”

  I was still grinning as I approached the small white house. In foreclosure or not, Norma’s pride of ownership showed in flowers and a white picket fence. If she were innocent, I hoped she would manage to save her home. Tyler deserved it, if nothing else. Poor kid, having a prostitute for a mother. I pressed the doorbell. Imagine what he would have to go through if his mother went to prison for two counts of attempted murder?

  “Stormi Nelson!” Again, I found myself suffocated in the perfumed bosom of Norma. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine. Tyler told me you were concerned, so I thought it would be nice to pay you a visit.” I held out the crushed box of cupcakes. “I brought you these.”

  She opened the flap. “Oh, my favorite! Come in.”

  Where Cheryl’s house had been cluttered and dirty, Norma’s, although lived in, was near spotless. A sofa and love seat, covered with furniture throws occupied the front room. Through an arched doorway, I spotted a kitchen and eating nook. On the kitchen table, mismatched chairs around it, rested a laptop. The home exuded a welcome feel. The tension in my shoulders dissipated.

  “Sit.” Norma waved me to a chair. “I’ve coffee on. It will go perfect with these.” She removed the slightly crushed cupcakes from the box and set them on a piece of vintage china.

  Nothing about the woman’s home would alert anyone to her colorful, yet scanty, wardrobe. She handed me coffee, which I watched her make, then watched as she drank.

  “I appreciate you relieving my worries.” She set her cup down. “When I heard you had been poisoned and that they thought it was from our coffee—” She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, smearing a thick trail of mascara.

  “It wasn’t the coffee. Who told you?” Still wary, I stared into my mug. Maybe I could pretend to sip and only eat the cupcake.

  “Ms. Dillow. I went into the library the next day to check out a couple of books on, uh, positions, and everyone was talking about it.”

  “I accidentally ingested some oleander.” I bit into the cupcake. “I heard you were a writer.”

  “Well, sort of. I take books from authors I love and turn them into erotica.” She grinned. “Way more fun, and it pays good money. This is why I’m eagerly awaiting your next novel. You’re one of three authors that I do this with.”

  I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or disgusted. While I wasn’t a prude, I was raised with certain values and Christian morals. “How eagerly are you waiting for the next book, Norma?”

  “What do you mean?” Her hand trembled, clattering the china coffee cup against its saucer.

  “What lengths would you go to in order to have more writing material?”

  “I’m not sure why you’re asking me this, but if I needed more material, I’d read a new author.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re treating me as if I’m being interrogated.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve heard you’re in the process of losing your home. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” I picked at the crumbs on my plate. For a possible suspect, Norma didn’t anger easily.

  “There are plenty of ways of making money. I’ve probably done most of them.” She took a gulp of coffee. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, and while money is tight, I’m no longer going to lose my home, and I’m no longer a prostitute.”

  My head snapped up. “That’s wonderful.”

  “I really thought we could be friends, Stormi. One writer to another, and all. But I feel as if you’re accusing me of something.” Her eyes glittered with unshed tears, dispelling any notion I had of her being my stalker.

  I reached across the table and took her hand. “I’d love to be your friend. Maybe we can do lunch when I finish this book. I’m releasing it next week.”

  “You know what would be sweet?” Norma got up to refill her mug, dispelling any ideas I might have of mine being tampered with. “We should start a writer’s group. Sarah Thompson would be interested, I know. There are probably others.”

  No doubt. I sighed. While the idea had merit, the last thing I needed was another obligation. What happened to staying happily at home and creating wonderful characters? Oh, yeah. My agent wanted me to get out more. “I’ll let you know.”

  I said my goodbyes and left, taking my time heading around the corner to where Matt and Mary Ann waited.

  “Why the depressed look?” Matt opened the door for me. “That visit went very well.”

  “She’s a nice woman.” I clicked my seatbelt into place. “We’re back to square one.”

  “No, we aren’t. So far, Cheryl is the top suspect. We haven’t talked to Ms. Dillow yet,” Mary Ann said, patting my shoulder. “You wait. Eventually it will all fall into place.”

  “Hopefully not with a gun pointed at my head.”

  Matt took his place behind the wheel. “That was gutsy practically asking Norma outright whether she was the unsub, but it seemed to have closed that door. I don’t think she’s the one. What’s the plan with the librarian?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” I faced him. “What if my stalker isn’t Cheryl or Ms. Dillow? What if we’re running in circles?”

  “Then your stalker is smarter than I’ve given them credit.” He pulled the car away from the curb. “Maybe tomorrow while you’re at home, you and Mary Ann can make a list of why or why not these two women might or might not be the stalker. I’ll also toss their names around at the station and see if anything comes to light.”

  It was a good plan. Not only that, but I intended to find out what secrets my neighbors held. My stalker could very well be one of them.

  21

  I still hadn’t come up with a plan on confronting Ms. Dillow by the time we pulled into the library parking lot. I was a bit curious as to how she knew I’d been poisoned. Maybe I could use that to my advantage.

  This time, Matt accompanied Mary Ann and I. Ms. Dillow wasn’t at her desk. While the other two pretended to browse for something to read, I went in search of the elusive librarian. I found her in the same conference room in which we’d held the meeting a few nights before. “Good afternoon, Ms. Dillow.”

  She stiffened. “I thought you were going to call me Janet. Friends call each other by their first names.”

  “My apologies.” I glanced around the spotless room, now void of all decorations and poisonous flowers intended to kill me.

  “I see you’re suffering no ill effects from your illness.” Her gaze flicked over me.

  “I wasn’t ill. I was poisoned. You know this, according to Cheryl Isaacson.”

  “That gossip mongrel. If you knew what was rumored that she had hidden in her house, you’d want nothing more to do with her.” Ms. Dillow, Janet, moved past me and back to the main part of the library.

  “I do know, a
nd it’s been taken care of.” I followed the woman’s fast pace.

  “Really?” She spun to face me, almost causing me to ram into her. “Then why is she still walking the streets? Seriously, the lack of law in this town … it’s a disgrace.”

  “You seem to know an awful lot of what goes on around here.”

  “Of course I do. I’m the librarian. For now.” She turned and stomped to the nonfiction side of the room.

  I followed, motioning for Matt not to follow. What could happen in a sparsely populated library? I could see why the city was making cutbacks. “It’s sad how people don’t frequent the library anymore. Have you considered children’s programs? Things to entice the young people?”

  “Of course, I’m not an idiot.” She grabbed an armful of books that weren’t shelved and thrust them at me. “That’s why I’m so excited when you release a new book. It brings people to the library. Why, we have a waiting list!”

  Really? Glee bubbled up inside me like a carbonated drink.

  “Why are you here, Stormi?”

  “Oh.” Come on, brain. Work fast. “Yeah. I need to book a room for the release party next week?”

  “Next week?” She grinned. “I thought Cheryl was in charge of all that.”

  “We had a falling out, on account of what I found in her house.”

  Janet shrugged. “If the rumors are true, I still don’t understand why she’s walking the streets. People really do get away with murder around here.”

  “Do you have an empty room for next Friday evening?” I followed as she pulled books, added to the pile in my arms, and took from the pile to re-shelve.

  “Of course. There’s nothing else going on around here. Is there any chance I can get a sneak peek? Maybe I could come up with a creative way of advertising the fact.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea.” I’d give an advance copy to Cheryl, too. “It will be released in ebook form first, but print will follow soon after.”