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

by Cynthia Hickey

  “I will.” She scooted back to the table and transferred her attention back to her work.

  Coffee and sandwich in hand, Mary Ann and I jogged across the street and into Mom’s bakery. I ordered six carrot cake cupcakes and leaned against the counter eating while Mom packed them. As she worked, I filled her in on the morning’s happenings.

  “I finally got the lock fixed on the back door,” she said. “When we got in this morning, there were muddy footprints from the back door to the front. Nothing missing, just the dirt. That reminded me to call the locksmith.”

  With a box of cupcakes balanced precariously in my lap, we drove to Mrs. Davidson’s house. I’d gotten so used to seeing Mr. Franklin’s mail truck outside Ida’s house, I barely spared it a glance. Instead, I gave him a nod as he headed for her front door and I marched up the walk to Mrs. Davidson’s.

  When she answered the door, she once again led us to seats on the front porch. I’d met the mother of a hoarder a few months ago, and Mrs. Davidson showed all the signs of being one. I handed her the cupcakes. “I hope these help you feel better.”

  “Thank you, but I know you didn’t come out here to bring me cake.” She fixed her red-rimmed gaze on me.

  “No, ma’am. I was thinking about something you said the other evening at my house. Something about Phil making his money?”

  “Yes. I apologize again for hitting you. The bruise seems to have faded nicely.”

  “With the help of makeup.” I smiled to take the sting out of my words.

  “Phil had been leaving every evening, rather than meeting people in the road who stayed in their cars. He’d leave and come home with cash. Never did tell me who he was working for, but I’ve got my suspicions. Betty Caletti told me last week about the harassments they’ve been getting in town. Every one of them coincided with a night my boy was gone.” She shook her head.

  “The pranks have continued, Mrs. Davidson.”

  “Well, then, whoever hired my son, wasted no time replacing him, did they?” She heaved to her feet, wiping her eyes with a sodden Kleenex. “I’m tired. Thanks again for the cake.” She went in the house and left us sitting there.

  “Who hired Phil?” Mary Ann asked.

  “Steve Larkin is my guess.” He doesn’t know the residents of my town very well. We tended to dig in our heels when met with opposition. While a few shop owners might cave under the offer of a lot of cash or the worry of harassment, most would refuse to budge out of sheer stubbornness.

  Loud voices rose from the direction of Ida’s house. I stood and craned my neck to see over the untrimmed rose bushes surrounding Mrs. Davidson’s porch.

  Dennis Franklin, open shirt flapping around a large belly covered with a white tee shirt, bolted out the front door. A terracotta vase followed, narrowly missing his head.

  “It’s my money, Dennis! You can’t tell me what to do with it.” Ida, hands on her hips, stepped onto the porch as Dennis fled down the steps.

  “You’ve no sense, woman.” He turned. “You’re wasting our future.”

  “My future! Remember that. You’re only along for the ride.”

  “We’ll see about that, dearie.” He shrugged into his shirt and marched to his truck, muttering, “I’ve stuck my neck out for you.”

  20

  This was an encouraging morning. I grinned at Mary Ann and sprinted for my car. “Let’s follow our dear postman for an hour or so. This late in the day, his shift must be about over.”

  “If Ida is our killer,” Mary Ann said, clicking her seatbelt across her, “then Mr. Franklin might want to consider being careful of what he says. The little widow isn’t as meek as we thought she was.”

  “True, but I don’t think she’s behind the pranks.” I still thought the two were separate; Jim’s death and the harassment of the shop owners. “Also, if she did kill Jim, I doubt Dennis is too worried about it. He’s most likely her accomplice and can turn her in.”

  We followed Dennis to the post office where he traded his mail truck for a battered tan Toyota. Across one side of the small truck were the words “Bad Guy” painted in a green childish scrawl.

  “Now, who do we know that would call someone a bad guy?” I asked. “My guess is we need to talk to Rusty.”

  “He does see more than he should.”

  Dennis pulled out of the lot behind the post office and headed to a mobile home park on the outskirts of town. He parked in front of a dilapidated double-wide in need of fresh paint.

  “No wonder the man is looking for a windfall.” I entered the park and turned around in a large cul-de-sac at the end. Stopping one trailer away from the one Dennis entered, I cut the engine.

  We hadn’t sat there for more than fifteen minutes before I saw Rusty skulking in and out of the trailers. Since he carried a hoe, I assumed he had picked up a job as gardener for the park. I opened my door. “Stay here and keep an eye on Dennis, okay?” I told Mary Ann. “Text me if he comes out. I’m going to ask our local Peeping Tom a few questions.”

  I ducked behind a pink trailer and hissed Rusty’s name.

  He jumped two feet and doubled up the fist not wrapped around the garden tool. “You scared me.”

  “I’m sorry. I want to talk to you.”

  “I’m not peeping. I’m working.”

  “I can see that. I won’t bother you long.” I made sure Dennis couldn’t see me if he glanced out his window. “Did you paint the words ‘Bad Guy’ on the mailman’s truck?”

  “Yes. It’s true.”

  “Why is it true?”

  “He’s bad.”

  I tried not to appear frustrated. Any sign that Rusty wasn’t making any sense, he’d clam up and run away. “How is he bad?”

  “Mrs. Worthington is married,” Rusty whispered. “He kisses her.”

  So did a lot of men, but I let that fact lie. “Anything else?”

  “He snoops around town at night.” Rusty frowned.

  If I couldn’t get Rusty to expand on his words, we’d be there all day. “I know you have to get back to work, so why don’t you tell me everything you know so I don’t have to keep asking questions?”

  “Everything?”

  “Only about Mr. Franklin.”

  “He yells at me. Once, I saw him yell at Mrs. Rogers. She doesn’t like me.” He frowned.

  “That’s okay. She doesn’t like me either.” It took another fifteen minutes before I realized that other than Dennis messing around with Mrs. Worthington and snooping around town after dark, Rusty didn’t know anything of value about the man. Rusty promised to mow my grass tomorrow and lumbered off, shaking his head and mumbling.

  I behaved pretty much the same way as I headed back to my car. A mere second after sliding into the seat, Dennis stepped out of his trailer wearing what could only be described as his “party clothes”. A red and black western style shirt with black jeans. His graying hair was slicked back from his face. I wondered if Ida knew her man was stepping out on her.

  “I bet he’s going to that new honky-tonk bar on the east side,” Mary Ann said. “We should go, too.”

  I glanced down at my jeans and tee shirt. “I’m not really dressed for going out.”

  “Sure you are. Jeans are the perfect wear. All you need is some makeup, and I have some in my purse.”

  I groaned and texted Matt as to where we would be, then sat back and let Mary Ann paint my face. “If he isn’t at the honky-tonk, we wasted our opportunity to follow him.”

  “He’ll be there. Look up.” She slathered mascara on my bottom lashes. “A dab of rose-colored lip gloss and you’re gorgeous. Even in jeans and a plain black tee shirt. Sometimes, you make me so mad.”

  “I’m built like a stick. You have the curves men like and big eyes that make them drool.”

  “I do, don’t I?” She grinned. “We’re different kinds of beautiful. Now, drive, Red. We’ve a party to go to. Remember, though … if Dennis sees us, you’re only there as my wing man. Everyone in town knows you’r
e dating Matt.”

  “Got it. I’m there to support you as you find a date.” Good grief. I’d never been the bar-hopping type. I had no idea how to act once we got there. I went straight from a nerd in high school to a nerd in college. I’d never considered myself pretty or desirable until I saw myself through Matt’s eyes. Maybe I could fade into the background and let Mary Ann do whatever it was she was going to do.

  I started the car and followed her directions to a sprawling wood building on the town’s border. A big neon sign, waiting for night so it could glow in all its glory, stated simply “Roy’s.” “We’re too early,” I said.

  “No, this place opens at ten a.m. They serve great burgers.”

  I stared at her. “How do you know all this?”

  “Michael brought me here the—” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mention we’d gone on a date, did I?”

  “You did not. I thought we were best friends. That’s something a person normally tells their best friend.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t want to say anything until I knew where our relationship was going.”

  “And?” I shoved open my door.

  “I really like him, and I think he feels the same way about me.” She flashed a grin and got out of the car. She stood and stared at the building. “I have got to be the luckiest literary assistant in the world. How many of them get to step out of the office and do the things I get to?”

  “Their lives might be boring, but they’re a lot safer.” I linked my arm in hers, already forgiving her for her secret regarding Michael, and strolled toward the barn-like doors of Roy’s.

  Loud country music from overhead speakers assaulted our ears the moment we stepped inside. A stage sat against the far wall and a polished mahogany bar took up the other end. A mirrored wall behind the bar reflected liquor bottles in a rainbow of colors and dim lighting.

  Dennis Franklin bellied up to the bar, a bottle of beer in his hand as he surveyed the few people at the scattered round tables. In the center of the bar was a good-sized dance floor. No one danced that early in the day. Besides Dennis, two other men drank at the bar. Five of the tables were occupied, two by families. All were enjoying an early dinner.

  I inhaled the delicious aroma of barbecue. “I’m starving.” I dragged Mary Ann to a table. “Let’s eat. We can spy with sauce-covered ribs in our hands.”

  “This place will be hopping in another hour or two,” she said, sitting at a barrel-shaped chair at a table next to the dance floor. “You should text my brother to meet us here when they get off work. I’ll do the same with Michael. We can keep an eye on our prey for now and have fun later.”

  “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.” I chose a chair with a clear view of Dennis and sent Matt a text. He replied, saying he would meet us in half an hour and to order food for him. Maybe I could get him to dance later.

  The waitress, a big chested, skinny waisted woman in her mid-thirties, sidled up to our table to take our orders. We ordered four plates of ribs and fries, as Dennis called for his second beer.

  “Hey, Angel!” Dennis rotated on his chair as the waitress sashayed past. “You ready to run off with me yet?”

  “You rich yet?” She tossed back as she pushed through swinging doors to the kitchen.

  “Pretty much.” He grinned and turned back to the main part of the room.

  “It doesn’t look as if he plans on taking Ida with him once he gets his hands on her money,” I said.

  “Should we warn her?”

  “I don’t know. Isn’t squealing on a cheating boyfriend something friends do? I doubt she considers us her friends.”

  “Call your sister. Let’s see how far Dennis will go if flirted with. I’d suggest Norma, but you said she’s going out with Larkin tonight. Maybe Angela can get the mailman drunk enough to spill his secrets.”

  “Girl, you’re on a roll today with the good ideas.” I texted Angela, letting her know what we needed her to do. She replied that she’d be there in fifteen minutes. She had just the dress in her car and would put it on after she clocked out of work.

  Of course she could be ready for a night out on a moment’s notice. Not to mention that her work clothes were skimpier than anything I owned. If I wanted to look sexy, but by today’s standards, I usually borrowed something of hers.

  Angela beat Matt to the honky-tonk and made a beeline for the bar. It only took Dennis seconds to move to a stool at her side. She turned, propping her elbows on the bar’s surface, and jutting her endowed chest forward. My sister oozed sleaze and class all at the same time. If she weren’t careful, she’d be wiping Dennis’s drool off her arm. I fished my cell phone from my purse and snapped a few pictures.

  “She should be in the movies,” Mary Ann said, propping her chin in her hand. “There’s no way I could pretend to be interested in someone like Dennis Franklin. To watch her, you’d think she thought he was the handsomest man in the state.”

  “I’m just glad she agreed to do it.”

  “What did you offer her?”

  “Fifty bucks.”

  Mary Ann laughed, the sound rising above the music and drawing Angela’s attention. She frowned and shook her head, not wanting us to take Dennis’s focus off her, no doubt.

  Matt and Michael, with a tag-a-long Wayne Jones, waltzed into the building and straight for our table. Matt leaned down and greeted me with a kiss. “Wayne came along when we heard your sister was going to be here, but she looks occupied.”

  “She’s working.” I smiled. “Pull up an extra chair and watch her at her best.”

  “Working how?” Wayne asked.

  “Digging information out of a drunken Dennis.” I explained the man’s earlier fight with Ida and his comments about money. “Angela can get a man to say anything.”

  “Seeing her in that red dress makes me want to spill my secrets,” Wayne said.

  Matt and Michael wisely kept their thoughts to themselves. I raised my hand to attract the attention of Angel and asked her to add another order of ribs to our bill. I wasn’t sure what my sister would want if she decided to join us, but it would most likely be a salad. A plate of ribs and fries would not allow her to wear dresses like the slinky thing she wore now. I sighed and reached for the glass of tea our waitress had plunked in front of me.

  “Don’t look so sad,” Matt said, his lips close to my ear. “You’re twice as sexy even in overalls.”

  I playfully punched his arm. “I don’t wear overalls.”

  “Maybe not, but you’d look gorgeous in them.”

  My man always knew what to say.

  Angela pushed away from the bar, caressed Dennis’s cheek, and tossed a quick glance my way before heading for the restroom. I dashed after her.

  21

  “Well?” I blurted the moment I stepped through the door. “You’re amazing out there. You should be in the movies. You have the poor fool eating out of your hand.” I looked under each of the stalls to make sure we were alone.

  “It isn’t hard.” Angela touched up her crimson lipstick. “The idiot can’t resist a pretty face or a loose woman.” She grinned and scrubbed a dot of lipstick off her teeth. “You could just as easily have gotten him to talk if you dressed like a woman instead of a teenage boy.”

  “I dress as a woman when the situation calls for it.” Like when I’m on a date with Matt or attending a conference. Dressing like a woman didn’t mean looking like I charged on the street corner. Still, I didn’t want to fight with my sister. Her fashion style came in handy in situations such as the one we were in. “Besides, he knows I like digging up information. He’d never trust me. So, what did you find out?”

  “He’s definitely after Ida for the money she might come into.” She faced me and leaned against the sink. “He’s worried that the offer will fall through and he is trying to come up with other ways to make a chunk of money.” A shadow passed over her eyes. “You need to warn her to get rid of him. I’m afraid he might harm her to get his hands
on her money. Did you know that Jim actually did have a life insurance policy? Ida found papers to the fact in the bookstore. I think Dennis is after that money.”

  “He’d have to marry her, then kill her.” My heart stopped. We’d located Jim’s killer. All we had to do now was prove it. “Stop talking to him. Come sit with us. No information is worth your safety, and Wayne came to spend time with you. Impress him with this new information.”

  Her face lit up. “He did?”

  I nodded. “How will you get rid of Dennis?”

  She tapped sculpted fingernails against the porcelain sink. Tap tap tap. I shot out my hand and stopped her.

  “Well, I can slip him something to make him go to sleep. Then, when he appears to be too drunk, the bartender will call him a cab.”

  “Isn’t that against the law?” Who was this woman?

  “He’s a possible murderer, Stormi.” She looked at me as if I’d grown another head. “Do we care?”

  “I guess not, but there are three law enforcement officers at our table who might think otherwise. You can’t say a word about drugging him.” I chewed my bottom lip. I’d tell Matt after he took me home. He might be mad, but surely he would see the reasoning in Angela’s plan.

  “Go back to the table, scaredy-cat. That way, you aren’t a part of this.” She stared at herself in the mirror and tugged the neckline of her dress lower.

  “Thanks. Don’t give him too much. We don’t want him dead.” I pushed open the door and joined the others.

  Angela followed a few seconds later, leaned over Dennis, giving him a close-up look of her cleavage, and subtly dropped a pill into his beer. She tossed a wink over her shoulder at me, then perched back on the stool next to her prey. My sister was a beautiful, sexy, black widow spider, cleverly constructing her web to the detriment of any man who got too close.

  “Did she just slip him something?” Matt asked, his glass of tea halfway to his mouth.