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

by Cynthia Hickey

  Mary Ann leaned close. “Mary Ann Steele and Stormi Nelson. We have an appointment.” She turned to Wayne. “Wait in the car.”

  He sighed and headed back, clearly not happy with the order. But, to his credit, he didn’t argue.

  A loud click attracted our attention back to the gate. Seconds later, it swung open.

  “Please close the gate upon entry. You’ll have to press another button to open the front door.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I felt as if I were stepping into a prison rather than a place some people called home.

  Mary Ann didn’t look disturbed in the slightest. Instead, she acted as if bars clanging shut behind her was a normal occurrence. There might be a lot more to my assistant than I’d had time to discover.

  She pressed a larger button to the right of the double metal doors. They swung open and we stepped into what looked like the front office of a school. I was pretty certain my first assessment was correct, and we were in a converted school.

  A woman glanced up from a computer behind a green metal desk. “Miss Steele?” Her eyes widened when she got to me. “Oh. The Stormi Nelson.”

  A fan and I had no makeup on and had dressed in little more than my pajamas. I grinned and offered my hand for a shake. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Are you doing research for a book?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Let me ring the headmistress. Harriet Marshall has run this facility for almost twenty years. She’s a marvel.”

  We waited, me glancing at runaway posters on the walls, until a squat woman with a military haircut approached us. “I’m Marshall. Nice to meet you.”

  “Mary Ann Steele, and I’m Stormi Nelson.”

  “Love your books.” Her smile softened her look. She motioned her head toward the posters. “Seems like we lose a girl a month, no matter how careful we are with security. Let me introduce you two to some of our angels.”

  I was pretty sure the primary angel in that place was Harriet, but I kept my mouth shut. We strolled down a hall with classrooms being used as bedrooms. Belligerent faces glared at us as we passed. We ended up in a large room where tables, chairs, and sofas were used by a variety of ages between thirteen and eighteen. The clamor of twenty plus girls hushed when we entered.

  Harriett clapped her hands. “My angels, we have a special visitor today. A famous author is here to do research. Please give her a warm welcome.”

  A few girls shrugged and returned to the television, another slapped her book closed and stormed past us, and a few more turned back to painting each others’ nails. I chewed the inside of my lip and decided to try and talk to a lone girl in the corner who seemed bent on hiding behind a mane of blond hair.

  “Hey.” I sat next to her.

  “Hey.” Her sigh seemed to carry the weight of the world. “Here to stare at the homeless, are you? Well, get on with it.”

  “My name is Stormi.”

  “Lara.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I’ll be eighteen next month and sent packing.”

  Great. I had my example. Across the room, Mary Ann attempted to speak with her own non-talkative teen.

  “Look, I’m not here to research. I need help.” I leaned close and pretended to study a hole in the knee of my jeans. “My niece disappeared. She’s about your age. I need to pretend to be your age so I can find her.”

  “Are you crazy?” She hissed, glancing toward the other girls. “People disappear and are never seen again. You want to go out there in that?”

  “I have to. The same people took my boyfriend.”

  She closed her eyes and rested her head against the wall. “What’s your plan? Your disguise?”

  “Runaway?”

  “Won’t work. You’re too old. Nobody cares if an eighteen-year-old runs away.”

  I guessed it wouldn’t be any different for a nineteen-year-old. “I’m open for suggestions.”

  “You’re a homeless drug addict peddling your body on the streets.” She opened one eye. “You’ll get grabbed for sure. Wear something slinky and act like you hate everyone unless a prospective John approaches. Then put on the charm. The right John will come along and you’ll find your niece. Pray she’s still alive.”

  “What are your plans when you leave here?”

  She shrugged. “I’m a good typist. I’m good with Photoshop and the internet.”

  “Can you remember my name?”

  “Sure. I’ll probably see it again in the obituaries.” A glimmer of a smile teased the corner of her lips. “Just kidding.”

  “Look me up. Then, send me an email. I’ll help you find a job. My mom owns a bakery and wants to expand her business to online owners. I’m sure we can get you on at least part time until you find something better.”

  “Why do you want to help me? You didn’t know I existed until ten minutes ago.”

  “You just feel like a kindred spirit.” I stood and held out my hand as if we were two business people doing business. “I meant it, Lara. I’d like to help you.”

  She returned my shake. “I’ll take you up on it. If you’re still breathing.”

  I laughed. “Then my mom will help you. Do you like it here?”

  “It’s as great as a place like this can be. Ms. Marshall really does care about us girls, but she’s a strict woman. She’ll give you anything in her power, unless you step over the line. Then, she cracks down like a prison warden. She’s exactly what us girls need.”

  I left feeling better than when I arrived. I’d made a new friend and possibly gained some insight into a disguise that would have me in the same place as Cherokee.

  14

  I stared in the mirror at my newly-dyed, ink black hair with fuschia tips and cried. The box said temporary hair color. I sure hoped so.

  After raiding Cherokee’s makeup drawer, I thought I had what I needed in order to look ten years younger. At least I hoped so. Maybe. If no one looked too closely.

  I lined my eyes with a thick black eyeliner, then put on several coats of mascara. I put on a foundation, too light for my already pale skin, then stepped back from the mirror. I looked like a blue-eyed vampire.

  Dressed all in black, with tight skinny jeans ripped at the knees, a too big sweatshirt that fell off one shoulder, showing the strap of a vibrant blue bra strap, and yellow flip-flops on my feet despite the chill in the air, I was as ready as I’d ever be. I slipped on the daisy ring and headed for the kitchen to wait for Mary Ann.

  While I waited, I grabbed Dakota’s dirtiest backpack from a hook next to the back door and dumped his school papers onto the table. If I was going to live in an abandoned warehouse, I intended to have a few comforts from home.

  I shoved my Dad’s old military green jacket inside along with a box of granola bars, some bottled water, bread, a jar of peanut butter and some cheese crackers. Food fit for a couple of homeless teens. I grabbed a couple of candles and some matches from a kitchen drawer.

  There. A threadbare blanket and we were all set.

  Mary Ann strolled in the back door, her blond hair dyed with blue streaks. She’d completely gone without makeup and looked about thirteen years old. She laughed. “You look like Morticia.”

  “Thanks. But am I young enough?”

  “I think so.” She plopped a pack on the table. “I’ve never run away before, so not really sure what to bring.”

  “We can always purchase a few odds and ends from a convenience store.” I knocked on the basement door. “Mom will drop us off a couple of blocks from the warehouses.”

  “I’m coming!” Mom yelled up the basement stairs. “Oh.” Her eyes practically bugged from her head when she entered the kitchen and got a look at us. “I hardly recognize my own daughter.”

  “What about me?” Angela, devoid of makeup, wearing a skirt of her daughter’s, fur-lined boots, and a crocheted poncho, stepped into the room. “I’m going with you.”

  I wanted to object, but in her shoes, err, boots, I’
d want the same thing. My sister was very pretty without the thick makeup. “With those, uh, your…chest, it’s hard to imagine you as a teenager.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I taped them down.”

  Wayne barged through the back door, took one look at the three of us, and backed out, calling, “I’ll come back when you’re gone.”

  “What was that all about?” I asked, hefting my pack over my shoulder.

  “He doesn’t want to interfere with our leaving or to know too much about our disguises,” Angela said. “He can’t tell anyone what he doesn’t know.”

  Smart. “Ready?” My heart pounded like a rock band.

  Angela and Mary Ann nodded and moved past me to the front door. I took a deep breath and started to follow, stopping when Mom put a hand on my arm.

  She kissed my cheek, blinking rapidly. “Be careful. Take care of those girls and bring back my granddaughter.”

  “I will.” And my Matt.

  Although I couldn’t tell by the weight of the pack on my back, but knowing my Glock was there, along with my Tazer, made me feel a bit better. That, and the hour I’d spent in prayer the night before. God made me headstrong and slightly brave. I didn’t think it came as a surprise to Him that I was venturing into the dark underbelly of my world to find those I loved. And, it didn’t come as a surprise to me that He promised to be with me while I stormed the so-called castle. We would make a good team.

  I’d expected Dakota to at least say goodbye to us, and glanced at his bedroom window. It was probably for the best. He didn’t need to know our disguises, and we definitely wouldn’t let him come along. Tossing my pack in the back with the other two, I climbed into the backseat with Mary Ann.

  We made the forty minute drive in silence. Mom stopped the van in the alley behind an adult bookstore and a liquor store in the poor suburb of Blossom. A pretty name for a town that needed to be bulldozed down. Still, it was famous for its drugs and prostitution. It held our best chance for being abducted.

  “I’ll pray,” Mom said. “Hard and without ceasing.”

  “Thank you.” I retrieved my pack and stepped back from the vehicle. As the other two did the same, Mom drove away, leaving me feeling every bit the lost little girl I was pretending to be.

  Tears stung my eyes and clogged my throat. I coughed. “Let’s find a place to call home.”

  Amidst catcalls and whistles, we trudged down what might have been a lovely small town Main Street. Now, most of the buildings sported boarded up windows. In the distance rose a row of warehouses.

  “Should we head there or find an unlocked store here?” I asked.

  “Well, you said the party was in those warehouses. I say we go there. I bet there are still cots left behind.” Mary Ann shuddered. “But, I don’t think I can sleep on one. Not knowing that a young, frightened girl had sat there.”

  “We also need to be seen around here,” Angela pointed out. “Someone will be bound to tell someone with power that three new girls have arrived.”

  She pulled a pill bottle from under her poncho and tossed a white capsule in her mouth. “What? We’re druggies. Might as well play the part. These are left over from Mom’s back injury two years ago. They might not be very potent, but if someone looks hard enough, they’ll find a bottle of pain killers with someone else’s name on them. And, that man over there is keeping a close watch on us. I’m just playing the part. You want one?”

  I shook my head, hiding behind my mane of dyed tresses. Shy runaway I could do. Druggie might be a bit harder.

  Mary Ann pretended to pop a pill and laughed shrilly, cocking her head toward the man watching. “Twenty bucks!”

  He waved us off and stepped into the convenience store on the corner. I wasn’t sure whether she was giving him the price of a bill or a moment of her time. Still, my face flushed and I increased my pace toward the warehouses looming ahead and left the other two to catch up.

  It didn’t take long before Angela and Mary Ann started bickering like the kids they were trying to imitate.

  “I only brought one blanket, Angela. You should have thought about your own.”

  “My name is Lilly.”

  “Whatever.”

  Good point, though. “I’m Dusty.”

  Mary Ann sighed. “Fine. I’ve always wanted to be a Brittany. Still, I’m not giving Lilly my blanket tonight.”

  “She can have mine,” I said. “I brought Dad’s jacket.”

  “I want the jacket!” Angela jogged to my side.

  “No. I brought it, I get to use it.” Besides, it would bring me some much needed comfort.

  “You have got to be the meanest person in Arkansas.”

  I whirled like a bear whose cub had just been threatened. “Excuse me?”

  She took a step back.

  “Am I not risking my life for your child? Do I not let you live in my house rent free? I ought to punch you in the throat!” I stomped away, letting the tears of fear and frustration fall.

  By the time we reached the warehouses, the sun hung high and heavy in the sky, showering us with unusual warmth for that time of the year. And still, Angela and Mary Ann bickered.

  Just as Wayne had left it, the warehouse where Bomberg had held his party was unlocked. I shoved against the heavy back door. It opened with a loud screech. I entered and stared at the last spot I’d seen Matt.

  When Mary Ann started to step into the room across from me, I stopped her. “That’s where the girl that I think was Cherokee was. Instead of picking a room, I think we should all stay together and bunk in the hall close to the bathroom.”

  “Good idea.” Mary Ann pulled a blanket from her pack and spread it on the floor.

  “Around the corner,” I said.

  “Right.” She picked up the blanket and headed in the direction I’d pointed.

  I touched the wall where Matt had leaned, then followed my friend. We’d find him, God and I, and Matt and Cherokee would be alive and well. I had to keep reminding myself of that. If I forgot, I wouldn’t be able to go on.

  The cheap cell phone I’d purchased so no one could track us, buzzed in my pocket. I dug it out. “Yeah?”

  “Tell those two to stop arguing,” Wayne said. “Your nephew and I don’t want to listen to hours of drama.”

  “Dakota is with you?”

  “Yes. He’s in charge of video surveillance.”

  I closed my eyes in relief. “Well, teenage girls have drama, don’t they?”

  “Just tell them to stop.” Click.

  I swiped the back of my hand across my face to dry it. “Wayne said stop fighting.”

  “He can see us?” Angela stared at the walls and the ceiling. “Are there cameras?”

  Mary Ann gave an evil grin. “I have one in my necklace and Stormi has one in her ring. I guess the spy equipment ran out before you could get one.”

  I sighed and spread out my blanket on the floor. It was going to be a long couple of days. “We need a plan. Let’s come up with one.”

  Finished squabbling, they sat cross-legged on Mary Ann’s blanket and stared at me like eager students. “I said we need a plan. Not I need a plan. I can’t do this alone.”

  “Just lead us,” Mary Ann said.

  Angela nodded.

  “This place is fine for night, but what do we do during the day? Wander the streets aimlessly?”

  Mary Ann raised her hand. “I think one of us should try robbing a store, then racing away before getting caught. It would help our disguise.”

  “Or,” Angela straightened, “we could actually try selling ourselves.”

  “What happens if someone takes us up on it?” Mary Ann glanced at her as if she’d sprouted antennas. “I’m not doing that.”

  “Me either.” Angela managed to look shocked. “I have a powder that helps you sleep. We could pour it in—”

  “Enough.” Where did she get these things? A few months ago, she’d flirted with a suspect and slipped him something to put h
im to sleep so she wouldn’t have to follow through with her flirtation. I was afraid my sister had an illegal side to her.

  I thought my hardest, trying to come up with a better plan than they’d come up with. All I had was the idea of us wandering the streets. Did runaways do that? Or did they prefer to stay hidden? Except hiding wouldn’t accomplish our goal of getting snatched.

  I wrapped my arms around my bent knees and rested my chin on them. “At dusk, we’ll go to the convenience store and buy sodas. We’ll try to look as suspicious as possible. If we’re seen enough, doing nothing but loitering, someone is bound to say something to someone.”

  “They might call the cops,” Angela pointed out.

  “Then Wayne will have to play defense for us.” I didn’t have another plan. I really was lost.

  15

  I leaped from my hard bed on the concrete floor when the sound of shuffling feet woke me. I nudged the other two women with my foot.

  “What?” Angela shouted, scooting against the wall. Not a lot of bravery there.

  “Hush.” I frowned. Seriously. I sometimes wondered what went through my sister’s head.

  “There’s an old woman looking for a storm,” a drunk man sang as he staggered past us. “She’s pacing outside waiting to see.” He focused clear eyes on me, winked, and continued on his way.

  “Stay here,” I hissed at Angela and Mary Ann. “If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, hunt that drunk down.” I whirled and sprinted from the building and around the corner.

  I stood on the sidewalk and bent over to catch my breath. Eventually, running would get easier, right?

  A bag lady pushed a shiny shopping cart piled high with bags past me, turned at the intersection, and came back in my direction. White teeth flashed in a dirty face.

  “Mom?” I peered through the dark.

  She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. “I might have something that interests you, sweetie.” Mom slash bag lady pulled a brown paper sack from her cart. “But it will cost you.” She mouthed, “We’re being watched.”

  “I don’t have a lot of money.” I fought the strong urge to turn and see who was watching. “Is five dollars enough?” I fished the bill from my pocket and handed it to her.