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

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Well, we are.” I flashed him a grin. My man might have resigned himself to my gumshoeing, but I didn’t think he would ever like it. “Just not together.”

  A dimple winked in his cheek. “Whatever you say, dear.” He closed my door and jogged to the driver’s side. He slid behind the wheel. “I don’t think Mrs. Rogers is very happy about us dating.” He motioned his thumb over his shoulder.

  “She isn’t happy about anything I do.” I still had no idea why the woman disliked me so much. It couldn’t be because of my profession, could it? Romance writers were some of the nicest people I knew. We often helped newbie writers get started in the business, donated books to women’s shelters and prisons. What was there not to like?

  Matt drove to a fabulous steak and seafood restaurant on the banks of Oak Meadows’s lake. Since he had a reservation, we were able to get a table at a window overlooking the water. We’d sat there before, only to have the window explode from a bullet aimed at me. Since I had yet to receive any threatening notes from anyone other than Mrs. Rogers, I felt safe enough to settle in and enjoy the evening. Somehow, I couldn’t picture the old woman shooting anything but words.

  “How did it go with telling Rusty to stop peeping in windows?” I asked after the waitress took our orders. “I’ve been telling him that since the first day I met him.”

  “He wouldn’t answer his door.” Matt shook his head. “If I get many more complaints, I’m going to have to arrest him.”

  “That won’t work. He doesn’t understand.”

  Matt reached across the table and took my hand. “I won’t arrest him unless I absolutely have to. You know that.”

  “Let’s not talk about unpleasant things.” But then again, what would we talk about? We’ve never been the sort to spout sweet nothings. Most of our conversations consisted of whatever crime I was meddling in, Matt’s concerns for my safety, and what my next move would be.

  I stared into his hazel eyes, focusing on how they softened right before he kissed me or how they hardened when I did something to upset him. He never stayed mad long. Even the times I’d tried to push him away because of insecurity when I felt unworthy of such a wonderful man. He’d still come by and convince me how silly I was being. Matthew Steele was a fabulous one-of-a-kind man, and I was a very lucky woman.

  “How is it going with your mother in the basement and Angela in the attic?” His thumb rubbed the back of my hand, sending my brain into areas it shouldn’t go.I prided myself on holding tight to my vows, even one made in my Freshman year during a church revival. I could wonder and dream what it would be like to give into the temptation of Matthew Steele, but that was all. I’d come this far, what was another year or … when was the man going to propose?

  “Lonely. Before they moved in, I wasn’t even aware I was lonely. I craved and treasured my solitude.”

  “And then your agent told you to get out more, you stumble across a dead body, meet me, and the rest is history.” He grinned.

  I laughed. “That pretty much summed up the last year.” I straightened as my filet mignon was set in front of me. “I just had a thought.”

  “Uh-oh.” He winked. “That’s always a dangerous thing.

  “Hush. If I were to pursue a private investigator’s license, would you sign off on me in a year?” My research told me I needed two years of investigative experience. With the way I was going, that wouldn’t be difficult. I already had a year under my belt.

  “Why?” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you thinking of stopping your writing?”

  “Never.” I cut into my steak, pleased to see it was the exact shade of pink I liked. “But, if I have my license, it would make researching my novels a little easier. Not to mention that people would be coming to me with story ideas. It might be safer.”

  “I’m not sure where you’re getting your logic from.” He shook his head. “But you know I would never discourage you from doing anything you set your mind to.”

  “Wayne told me I would make a good cop.”

  “He’s right.” Matt sighed. “I may be a supportive boyfriend, but I can’t help thinking once in a while how nice it would be if you sat at your computer all day doing nothing more dangerous than breaking the hearts of your characters.”

  His cell phone rang. He peered at the screen and groaned. “We’ve got to go.”

  “Now?” I stared down at the dinner I’d looked forward to devouring.

  “We’ll get the food to go.” He raised his hand, signaling the waitress. “We’ve got a dead body.”

  I perked up. “Where?”

  “Rocking Reads.”

  Five minutes later, we were out the door and speeding toward Main Street. Matt parked a few doors down from the shop where yellow crime scene tape was strewn across the front of the store. The large window, that once sported fancy letters of the book store name, sprinkled the sidewalk with sparkling shards of glass. Hanging out of the broken window was Phil Davidson. The bottom of his Nike’s were splattered with red paint. I needed to have another talk with my nephew, and fast.

  I spotted Dakota in the crowd and headed his way while Matt conversed with Wayne. Grabbing my nephew’s arm, I pulled him to the side and away from the crowd. “What were the two of you up to?”

  “Nothing.” He yanked free. “Phil was making extra money painting for some dude.”

  “What dude?”

  “He never said. Then, when you mentioned red paint on the alley wall, I started following him. He’s the one who has been pulling all the pranks on the shop owners.”

  “Then how did you get paint on your shoes?”

  “I stepped in it once while it was wet, I guess.” He shrugged. “I was going to find out who had hired him, but now he’s dead.” Tears welled in his eyes. “I might be next, Aunt Stormi. If the killer finds out I’m nosing around—”

  “We won’t let that happen. Come with me.” I marched to where Matt and Wayne studied the crime scene. “Dakota has something to say to you.”

  He explained what he had been up to the last few days, keeping his gaze averted from Phil’s body. “I’m really scared now.”

  “You should be.” A muscle ticked in Matt’s jaw as he switched his attention to me. “Your family needs their own bodyguard, Stormi. If it isn’t you in danger, it’s someone else.”

  “Does this mean you’ll assign someone to watch the house?”

  He nodded. “Dakota, you aren’t to go anywhere. No school, no job. You stay safely behind doors until we catch this killer. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll take him home,” I said. “Will you stop by when you’re finished here?”

  Matt nodded. “We’ll have some questions. Take your car. I’ll have Wayne drop me off.”

  I marched without speaking to my car. Inside, I turned to Dakota. “I guess the apple really doesn’t fall far, does it?”

  His shoulders slumped. “Mom is going to kill me, if the killer doesn’t get to me first.”

  “You’re going to be fine.” I patted his knee. “Matt will make sure of it.”

  Angela met us at the front door. “Wayne called me and told me to get home.” She wrapped her son in a hug as soon as he stepped inside. “Are you all right? You aren’t hurt?” She glared at me over his head. “Look what you’ve done.”

  “Me?” I tossed my clutch purse on the foyer table. “I was having an innocent dinner with Matt.”

  “It’s your fault he’s so nosy!” She guided him into the kitchen and into a chair. “Let me fix you some hot chocolate.”

  I sat in one of the other chairs and kicked off my heels. “I’ve decided to become a private investigator.”

  “We can be partners.” A light gleamed in my nephew’s eyes.

  “Absolutely not.” Angela clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to be a doctor.”

  “I get dizzy at the sight of blood.”

  “Nonsense.” She padded in hose-covered feet to the stove. “Did you k
now that boy you were hanging out with was a drug dealer?”

  Dakota’s wide-eyed gaze landed on me. “Uh, yes?”

  She turned. “Did you or did you not?”

  “I did. I was spying on him.”

  I almost told her he’d done more than spy on Phil, but the stony look on her face made me keep my mouth shut. The less I got involved in this little family spat, the better.

  A bright light shined through the window, lighting up the kitchen. A sharp rap on the door alerted me to the fact we had company. I peered through the curtains, noted Nancy (Rhino) Rhinehart on the porch, and ducked.

  “I know you’re home, Stormi.” She cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through the skinny window by the front door. “Your car is in the driveway, your lights are on in the house, and you were seen going inside. Now, open up.”

  “No comment!”

  “We know your nephew was with tonight’s victim.”

  I met Dakota’s startled gaze. He shook his head. “He was already dead when I got there,” he whispered. “I’m in a lot of trouble, aren’t I?”

  “No, you’re not.” Angela yanked open the front door, tossed a bucket of water outside and slammed the door shut on Nancy’s scream. “Sorry! I didn’t see you there,” she called through the closed door.

  Don’t mess with a momma bear and her cub. I scuttled back to the kitchen. “That was awesome.”

  My sister whirled on me like a badger. “Stay away from my son.”

  “That’s kind of hard to do when you’re living in my house.” I crossed my arms. I wasn’t the monster here. If she stayed home more, she might be able to keep a better eye on her children. I hadn’t seen Cherokee in days.

  “It isn’t Aunt Stormi’s fault.” Dakota plopped into a chair. “She had no idea I was involved until she found pot in my room.”

  “She found what?!”

  “I was holding it for Phil. Matt knows all about it. I went and saw him today and explained everything.”

  “You did? He didn’t mention anything at dinner.” Was my sweetie withholding information?

  “Yeah, he said they’re waiting for Phil to trip up and lead them to the person above him.” He folded his arms on the table and let his head fall forward. “I guess that will never happen now.”

  Angela fell into a chair. “What is happening to my life?”

  For crying out loud. “This isn’t about you,” I said. “Your son could be in danger. He’s a sixteen-year-old kid involved in something much bigger than he is. Matt said he’s not to leave the house for any reason.”

  “Good.” She sniffed. “My son deserves house arrest.”

  “For what?” He lifted his head.

  “Getting involved in something you had no business getting involved in. Text your sister and tell her to get home. I need my family around me.”

  “She’s working until ten.” He shook his head. “How do you not know that?”

  “I’m taking a leave of absence from work until this is resolved.” She bolted to her feet and removed the pan of boiling water from the stove. “My children need me.”

  Dakota rolled his eyes. “We aren’t babies.”

  She patted his cheek. “You’re never too old to need your mother.”

  “Look.” I couldn’t take any more of her late-in-life attempts at parenting. “Staying home isn’t going to accomplish anything but put you behind on your bills. I’m home most of the time and can keep an eye on Dakota.” Well, I was home most of the time when I was writing. When investigating? Not so much.

  Angela shook her head. “No. You got him interested in all this. Now, look what happened.”

  “Fine. I’d rather solve Mr. Worthington’s murder than babysit anyway.” I planted my palms flat on the table. “And, I will solve it.”

  16

  I sat on the front porch with Matt’s arms around me. “Did you discover anything you can share with me?”

  “No.”

  “You didn’t discover anything or you can’t share it?”

  “I can’t share it.” His chest rumbled under my cheek as he laughed. “But, I’m not surprised you asked. I believe Dakota in the fact Phil was dead when he arrived. We were able to trace the 911 call to your nephew’s phone. Since he’s never given me reason to doubt his word before now, I tend to believe him.”

  I’d sat outside while they’d questioned Dakota, per Angela’s request. It might be my house, but he was her son, and she hadn’t wanted me there. I consoled myself with the fact that I’d probably hear all about it when my sister filled my mother in on the details when Mom returned from her date with Robert.

  “Did you check to see where Ida or Steve Larkin were at the time of Phil’s death? Were there any fingerprints?” I straightened and peered through the evening light at his face. “Why the bookstore? It’s practically empty.” Or was it? I needed to make another trip to investigate a little more thoroughly.

  “Let us handle this, Stormi.” He pulled me back against his chest. “Besides, I’d rather kiss than discuss the case.”

  “Do you think everything boils down to drugs or money? In every case I’ve investigated, it seems as if one or the other, sometimes both, are behind the crime.”

  “Yes.” He sighed.

  “Which one?”

  “Pick one.”

  Really? Hmm. I gnawed my bottom lip. I just couldn’t wrap my head around Jim being murdered for marijuana. A large amount of money, yes, and Ida was still the main person to profit from his death.

  “I can hear the wheels turning in your head.” Matt tilted my face to his and kissed me.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and climbed into his lap, grateful for the ivy vines that hid my porch from the prying eyes of the neighbors. Not that it would have stopped me from indulging in a bit of heavy petting, but I wasn’t an exhibitionist. My breathing quickened as Matt’s lips traveled from my lips to my neck. I made a sound deep in my throat, something primal and guttural, before pulling his lips back to mine.

  A car pulled into the driveway and snapped us back to reality. I slid from his lap and watched as Mom and Robert made their way up the walk, hand-in-hand like a couple of teenagers. It was good to see her happy again. Dad’s murder six years ago had done a number on the whole family. It probably played a big part in my drive to find justice for other victims.

  “Is there seriously nowhere else to do that than the front porch?” she asked.

  “The house is full, and there’s nothing to hide behind in the back yard.” I laughed and kissed Matt again. “Besides, kissing out here makes us feel young.” And, knowing we could be caught at any moment, kept us from stepping over a line I wasn’t prepared to take.

  “We heard about Dakota,” Mom said, “and came home as soon as we finished eating.” She patted Robert’s cheek. “Thank you for a wonderful evening. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She planted a quick kiss on his cheek, sparing me the sight of my mother kissing her boyfriend on the lips. It was okay for me, and I reminded myself again how much she deserved happiness, but I still had a hard time seeing her with anyone other than my dad.

  “Go on.” Matt playfully slapped my behind when I stood. “I know you’re dying to hear what your sister has to say.” He gave me another deep kiss, then pulled away. “Goodnight.” He strolled down the sidewalk, tossing a wave and a cheery hello to Mrs. Rogers, who peeked at us from her living room window.

  I shook my head and followed Mom inside. The old woman across the street complained about a challenged person like Rusty peeping, and yet she did the same thing.

  “Dakota doesn’t know anything more than what he’s already told you,” Angela said, the moment Mom and I stepped into the kitchen.

  “Phil isn’t, wasn’t, the master mind,” I said, sitting at the table. “Did he give any clue as to where he got the small amount of drugs he sold?”

  Dakota shrugged. “All I know is that it’s a man. Phil said he a lot.”

  “Why would he have b
een at the bookstore?”

  “I don’t know. I was following him, then decided to stop and get a coffee. When I came back out, I heard a yell and a crash. Then, I found him dead.”

  Someone was gutsy, killing Phil Davidson on Main Street where anyone strolling by could have seen. Not that there were many people out at nine at night. Oak Meadows tended to go to bed with the birds. The only stores open until nine were the drugstore and the coffee shop. Both within sight of Rockin’ Reads. The killer had perfect timing.

  “You didn’t see anyone?” Mom asked.

  He shook his head. “The street was dead. Oh.” His face fell, then brightened. “I did see a shadow. I thought it was a trick of the light, since the streetlamp outside the bookstore flickers. But, now … maybe it was the person who killed Phil.”

  “A shadow and a person can be two very different things,” I said, reaching for the clipboard of notes. Still, it warranted looking into. We couldn’t discount anything at this point.

  “I think we should go and check out the alley in the morning,” Dakota said.

  “Not you.” I cocked my head. “You’re staying here with the alarm set on the house and Sadie to protect you. I’ll go investigate.”

  “That dog can’t protect anything.” Angela crossed her arms. “I’m taking the day off work. I can’t take any chances something will happen to my son.”

  “Why would something happen to Dakota?” Cherokee dropped her purse on the table. “Did you know the front door is open?”

  Mom and I glanced at each other. “I came in last.” I sighed and went to set the alarm.

  When I returned, Dakota was filling his sister in on what had transpired while she was at work.

  “You were helping someone who sold drugs?” Her eyes widened. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Couldn’t you stick your feet in the detective pool without doing something illegal?” She glanced at me. “This is all your fault.”

  She was so much like her mother.

  “Don’t be too hard on your aunt,” Mom said. “The mystery bug has hit me, too. Your brother has been ordered by Matthew to stay in the safety of this house. Stormi and I will solve the case without him.” She raised a hand to stop his protests. “Until you’re eighteen and can make your decisions.”