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

by Cynthia Hickey

  Dakota barreled through the back door, sliding to a halt on the asphalt before he tripped over the dog. “What’s for supper?”

  “Where have you been?” I glanced at the clock. Usually everyone was home by five and it was crowding six o’clock.

  “Mom is working late.” He put hypothetical quotes with his fingers around the word working. “Cherokee is studying with a friend,” again the quotes around studying, “and I saw Grandma leave with her banker boyfriend. It’s just me and you. Wanna come see what I found?”

  “What’s that?”

  “A dropped love letter by Mrs. Worthington to her heart throb.”

  7

  The envelope looked as if a truck had run over it. “You opened it?”

  “No.” He looked taken aback. “Even I know that’s against the law. I found it on the road past Main Street.”

  The boy did cover a lot of distance on his skateboard. I turned the envelope over in my hands. No address. Just the name Dennis Franklin in curly writing on the front. I sniffed and raised it to my nose. Was that perfume? It had to be a love letter.

  I narrowed my eyes at my nephew. “How did you know I would want this?”

  “Really? I can snoop with the best.” He grinned and crossed his arms. “I’ve been listening to everything you and Grandma say. Look behind the toaster.”

  Why, the little sneak. Hidden behind my stainless steel toaster was a small recording device. “Why?”

  “Practice. I want to be a detective like Matt. Or go into business for myself as a Private Investigator. Either way, I intend on making money solving crimes.”

  “Do you have any more equipment like this?”

  “Spy stuff? Yeah. I have several tiny cameras that will fit almost anywhere. You can borrow whatever you like.” He opened the fridge and grabbed a can of soda.

  “Does your Mom buy this for you?” I couldn’t see Angela spending hard cash on something she would see as frivolous.

  “I’ve been working part-time at the electronics store. It’s perfect.” He saluted me with his aluminum can and headed upstairs.

  While I admired his ingenuity, I really hoped he wasn’t recording private moments. Such as when Mom was with Robert or Angela with whoever her latest flavor of the month was. I shuddered. Oh. He’d better not be taping me and Matt. I’d skin him alive! I glared at the ceiling as if he could hear my thoughts. Still, his equipment might come in handy someday.

  I sat at the table and opened the letter.

  My Dearest Dennis:

  Things are progressing exactly as they should. I will have the funds in a matter of days and we can escape to a tropical place and live as if we are young lovers, frolicking in the waves. My heart yearns for the day ….

  I thought I’d be sick. Being a respectable romance writer, I’d never talk like that.

  When we can follow our dreams. You’re such a different man than Jim. What did I ever do to get so lucky?

  When the letter turned to what she wanted to do once they got together, I skipped to the signature. Ida.

  I grabbed my cell phone and called Mary Ann. “What’s Mrs. Worthington’s first name?”

  “Ida, why?”

  I grinned. “I’m holding a love letter from her to one Dennis Franklin.”

  “The mailman? No way!”

  “Yes. It’s pretty disgusting, but at least we now know who the boyfriend is.” I leaned back in the chair, glancing toward the stairs. I was constantly telling Dakota not to do what I was just doing. It wasn’t good for the kitchen chair. “And, she mentions funds coming in soon. That has to be from the sale of the store. They plan on moving somewhere tropical.”

  “What are you going to do with the letter?”

  “I guess I should turn it in to Wayne.” After I made a copy, of course. “We want to keep him happy so he stays off our back. Who was the cutie I saw you with earlier?”

  “Michael Barker. He was patrolling the street and saw me loitering in the alley.” She sighed. “It took some fancy talking to divert his attention off of you guys.”

  The doorbell rang, sending Sadie barking like a maniac to the front of the house. She rammed the chair I was in. My arms flailed. The chair slid out from under me. I crashed onto the floor, my cell phone skidding across the floor. I lay there and stared at the ceiling. If I didn’t stop falling on my backside, I’d end up with a broken tail bone for sure.

  Steps thundered down the stairs. Dakota raced into the kitchen and bent over me. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded, and motioned for my phone. When he handed it to me, I gasped, “Doorbell.”

  “Got it.”

  “Stormi Nelson!” Mary Ann screeched. “If you don’t answer me right now, I’m calling 911.”

  “My … chair … fell over.” I struggled to a sitting position as Dakota shuffled into the kitchen holding a paper bag by his fingertips. “What’s that?”

  “Dog poop.” He dropped the offending object on the table.

  “Not there! Outside in the garbage.” I was going to march right over and confront Mrs. Rogers once I could walk without bending over like an old woman. Who else would pull such a childish prank?

  Dakota rushed to do what I’d told him. When he returned, I set him to work bleaching the table.

  “I’ve got to go,” I told Mary Ann. “See you in the morning.” I hung up and glared out the front window toward Mrs. Roger’s house. Her curtains were open enough for me to see her shape outlined in the window.

  Dakota handed me a bag of frozen peas. “What do you want to do? I can rig some of those paper poppers in her mailbox. They might give her a heart attack.”

  I held the bag on my backside. “I’m not sure what to do yet, but I don’t want to hurt her.” Maybe I could find a Homeowners Association violation or something. But, if I retaliated, this little feud of hers could go on and on. If I were actually going to murder her, she wasn’t helping her case any.

  “Sorry about the lack of supper,” I said, closing my curtains. “But, I’m taking a hot bath and going to bed.”

  “No problem. I’ll call Mom and tell her to bring me a hamburger.” He bounded back up the stairs.

  That boy was going to make some woman a wonderful husband someday.

  As I lay in a tub of hot bubbly scented water, drinking lemonade out of a crystal wine glass, I thought of Mrs. Worthington and her sweetheart. I didn’t blame her, really, especially if her husband was abusive as Mom claimed. But, would the woman kill in order to escape the abuse? It had happened before. Women reached their breaking point and killed their husbands.

  I might drive Matt nuts with my snooping, but the darling man would never lay a finger on me in anger. Why couldn’t people just kill each other off in books like I did?

  Someone knocked on the bathroom door. I ducked under the bubbles, leaving only my face exposed. “Come in, unless you’re Dakota. Then, stay out.”

  “It’s me.” Angela came in and perched on the counter. “My son showed me the love letter he found and his spy equipment.” She swung her legs, staring at the floor.

  I knew she had more to say. Her forehead was creased with worry wrinkles, the makeup settling into the lines and making her appear older than she was. “What’s wrong?”

  “Am I a bad mother?”

  Wow. Not what I expected. “Why would you ask me such a thing?”

  “My son has to go looking for excitement. Things that might get him killed, or worse, in trouble with the law.” She kicked off her stilettos. “Your snooping has made him want to be a detective.”

  “There are worse things to do as a career.”

  “But this one is dangerous.”

  “Dakota is a good boy, Angela, but he’s going to do what he wants to do. I wouldn’t worry too much about him. I’d worry more about Cherokee. I haven’t seen her in two days.”

  “She’s working at the grocery store. I forgot to tell you.” She raised her head and grinned. “My kids are both working and making
good grades. I guess that does make me a good parent.”

  I nodded. “Anything else? The water is getting cold.” Not to mention my bubbles were disappearing.

  “Oh, Mom texted me wanting to know where they found her rolling pin. I did some investigating. They found it stuffed behind the toilet. Goodnight.”

  It sure was a good thing to have a family member who worked at the police station. Hopefully, she was discreet. As a single mother, she needed her job. I didn’t charge her a lot of rent, just enough to make up for the electricity she uses with long showers and the extra food, but she still needed money of her own.

  I stood and drained the water from the tub. Clues were falling into place. I might actually have Jim’s death solved before Matt returned from his latest job.

  I slipped on my pajamas and grabbed the latest mystery I’d purchased. Oh. I’d bought it the same day Jim was killed. I ran my hands over the red and black cover. If we’d only known.

  Sliding under the covers, I said a quick prayer for discernment and wisdom. I’d learned from prior experience that asking for God’s help makes the journey a bit less rockier and the gumshoeing a bit less dangerous.

  My phone rang, eliciting a smile when I recognized the number as Matt’s. “I miss you.”

  He chuckled. “I miss you.”

  “How much longer?”

  “No more than a week, I hope. What did you do today?”

  “I’m glad you asked.” I scooted against the headboard. “I need your advice. Before you get mad, hear me out.”

  He sighed.

  “They’ve already processed the crime scene at the bakery, but the tape is still up. Mom and I went looking for her rolling pin—”

  “I thought they found that.”

  “Mom was convinced it wasn’t hers. She was right. Her rolling pin was right where she left it. High on a shelf in a box. The one Wayne has was found behind the toilet.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Uh, someone told me, or maybe I overheard it?”

  He groaned. “You’re killing me here. What’s the advice?”

  “Do I come clean with Wayne? Will he arrest us?”

  “He won’t arrest you. I’ll tell him what you’ve done. I doubt he’ll be too mad since they have processed the scene. I’ll also ask him to take down the tape so Anne can get back to work. How’s that?”

  “You’re the best boyfriend ever.”

  “I know.”

  I told him about the love letter with promises to turn it in to Wayne in the morning. He congratulated me on what I’d discovered so far, but pressed on me the seriousness of being careful.

  “This person has killed once already,” he said, “for something as trivial as a storefront. If they find out how close you’re getting to knowing their identity, you could be in real danger. I’ll ask Wayne to keep a better eye on you. He’s going to be my new partner when I return, anyway.”

  “Does he know that?”

  “Yes.”

  “That must have given him the chills. Your last partner got killed because of me.”

  “He was a dirty cop.” Sorrow laced his words. “A good man who sold out. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “He acted the way he did, because his family needed something. Don’t be too harsh on Koontz. I’d be dead if not for him.”

  “And for that, I’ll be forever grateful to him. Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  We hung up, leaving me to wonder how his partnership with Wayne was going to affect my snooping and my sister’s crush. I figured it would be torture for me, and Angela would be on cloud nine, drooling every time the man came over. And he would come over on a regular basis. When Matt was in town, he spent a lot of time at my house.

  I grinned. I might be able to have some fun with the big guy, knowing that whatever I did would, in some small way, make his life a little more exasperating.

  8

  The next morning, I locked the front door and set the alarm since everyone else had already gone their separate ways. Mom got the okay to return to the bakery, Angela went to the station, and the kids to school. I was on my way to pick up Mary Ann for our first visit of the day. As I headed for my car, I glanced toward Mrs. Rogers house.

  She stood out front in a faded housedress and watered a myriad of flowers. I took a deep breath for courage and headed her way.

  When she saw me approaching, she aimed the water hose in my direction like a weapon. “Don’t come any closer. I’m not afraid to use this.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not afraid to get wet.” The last thing I wanted was to start my day soaking, but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that. I held out my hands. “I just want to talk. I’m unarmed.”

  She raised the hose a little higher. “So, talk. I’m keeping this aimed right where it is.”

  “I’ve been informed that you’ve been eavesdropping and heard something you shouldn’t.” I kept my gaze glued to the hose in her hand.

  “I think I heard exactly what I needed to hear.” Her hose-holding hand twitched. “Now, I can be on my guard against a murdering romance author such as yourself.”

  “Mrs. Rogers, please.” I tilted my head and implored with my eyes for her to understand. “You’ve been, shall we say, opinionated and difficult?” I held up a hand to halt her protests. “We both know you have, so don’t deny it. What you heard was merely the plot of another mystery novel with the victim modeled after you.” I grinned. “It was a harmless way for me to let slide your over-the-top grievances against me. I promise not to use your real name in my book.”

  “Don’t patronize me! I know that you write your books after real life crimes, and I don’t intend to be your next bestseller.” She raised the hose. “Get off my property.”

  The hose hit me full in the face with the force of a sledgehammer. Water went up my nose and in my mouth. I slipped to the grass. She continued to spray as I struggled to my feet, my shoes sliding on the grass like a cartoon character trying to run and getting nowhere.

  “Get out!”

  I fled her screeching as if bullets followed until I leaned against my Mercedes to catch my breath. The woman was insane. I glanced across the street. “I’m filing a police report!” I wrung out my hair and stomped back into the house to change.

  When I exited again, fifteen minutes later, with dry clothes and wet hair, Mary Ann was coming up the sidewalk. I glared at where Mrs. Rogers had stood across the street and slid into my car where I waited for Mary Ann to join me. Where had the old bat gone?

  “I thought you were picking me up?” she said.

  “I was, but the witch across the street sprayed me with the hose.” I turned the key in the ignition. “Like I was a stray dog taking a doodie on her lawn.” I roared from the driveway and down the street, hoping, praying, there were no police officers around.

  “Where are we going first?”

  I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and slowed down. “The police station. I’m filing a complaint and turning over the letter.”

  “Did you talk to Matt?”

  “Yes. He advised I turn it over.” I cut her a sideways glance. “Did you know that Wayne is now his partner?”

  She gave a sheepish grin. “Yeah, but I didn’t know how to tell you. It’s more fun to watch the two of you bicker.”

  Good grief. I parked in front of the station and marched to the front door.

  Angela glanced up from her desk. “Officer Jones is busy.”

  “How did you know I was here to see him?” I glanced toward his office.

  “Because Mrs. Rogers is here.”

  This was so unfair. “We’ll wait.” I sat on a hard plastic chair and crossed my arms. I should file a charge against her for assault. But, I had stepped off the sidewalk onto her lawn. Would that void any complaint I had?

  The door to Wayne’s office opened. Mrs. Rogers sauntered out looking like the proverbial cat who swallowed t
he canary. At least she had changed her housedress for polyester pants and a floral blouse. She gave me a smug look and waltzed out the door.

  I bolted from my seat and down the hall to Wayne’s office. “I want to file a complaint.”

  “Join the club.” He waved me toward a seat. “Please stay off Mrs. Rogers’s lawn.”

  “She assaulted me. All I wanted to do was make amends.”

  He steepled his fingers. “Look, Stormi. She’s a lonely old woman with nothing to do and no friends. Harassing you gives her purpose. Let it go.”

  Well, when he put it that way. “Fine. I’ll try. But that isn’t the only reason I’m here.” I dug the letter out of my pocket and slid it across his desk. “My nephew found this while skateboarding, and since he knows I’m working this case, brought me the letter.”

  “You are not working the case.” He narrowed his eyes. “You’re snooping.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “Thank you for bringing this in. Matt told me you had it.” He stared across the desk. “Did you make a copy?”

  Duh. I raised my eyebrows. I knew what he was silently screaming at me and it had nothing to do with the letter. “We went into the bakery and found mom’s rolling pin. The one you have is not hers. Are you going to arrest us?”

  “I should, but I won’t.” He straightened. “That, and the letter, are actually very good evidence. Have you ever thought of becoming a police officer?”

  “Wow, is that a compliment?”

  “You can go now.”

  I stood, grinning. “Yes, sir. I shall return with more evidence.”

  His loud sigh followed me from the room. My mood was definitely lighter when I joined Mary Ann in the lobby. Wayne Jones actually thought I’d make a good police officer. While nice to know, I preferred putting words to paper and snooping without the stringent rules police had to follow.

  “What did he say?” Mary Ann asked as we headed back to my car.

  “To leave Mrs. Rogers alone because she doesn’t have a life, and that I should consider becoming a police officer. I’m that good.” I grinned and got into the car.