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

by Cynthia Hickey

  Maryann cocked her head. “Hmmm, I always thought of her as being nicer. Oh, well. Come on.”

  I followed her into the dim recesses of a shop full of beads, crystals, and…were those dead things? Gross. Still, I’d never been inside a voodoo shop and I took research for my novels where I could find it. I picked up a pink stopper bottle from the shelf. “Seriously? Love Potion number 9? Isn’t that a song?”

  “Give me that.” Maryann snatched it from me. “That’s what I’m looking for.” She glanced at the price tag. “Fifteen dollars well spent…if it works.”

  I rolled my eyes and continued around the shop amazed at the variety of dolls and skull jewelry. This was the place to be if you believed in such nonsense or was a teenager lost in the world of Goth makeup and accessories.

  A garnet necklace caught my eye. The sign said it guaranteed your man would love you forever as long as you wore the necklace. I chuckled and left it on the shelf. I was already succumbing to the traditions of something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. I had no reason to add dark magic, not when my faith followed the light.

  “I’m ready.” Maryann grinned, dropped the bottle into the bag with the tee shirts, and sailed toward the door. “We have two hours to catch our dinner cruise.”

  Outside, I blinked against the late afternoon sun glinting off the reflective mirror of a hot dog stand. A woman on the opposite side of the street waved.

  “Mom?” What in the world? Whose mother came to their daughter’s bachelorette shindig?

  “In the flesh! The others said it wouldn’t matter if I tagged along, so I caught a flight in this morning.”

  “I don’t have a tee shirt for you to wear.”

  “That’s okay, I had one made.” She pulled a shirt in the same shade as ours out of her purse. This one said in bright white letters, “Mother of the Bride.” As if it couldn’t get any worse, she handed me a little white veil with crystals along the headband and fabric that stuck up like a rooster’s feathers. She tucked her arm in mine. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

  ~

  Despite trying to leave the veil behind, I led my group onboard the Steamboat Natchez with me looking like a pink chicken while the others clacked behind me. Spotting a bottle of champagne on our table, my spirits brightened immediately. Normally, I stuck to sparkling cider, but tonight, I was having a glass of champagne to celebrate.

  We sat at the round table covered with a white tablecloth and raised our glasses for the server to fill them. Looking at the faces of everyone I loved, I didn’t care if we looked tacky or were a little loud. I was going to have a blast.

  “Whoa.” I shook my head as the waiter started to fill Cherokee’s glass. “She’s only eighteen.”

  “I’ll be back with something non-alcoholic,” he said.

  “Oh, Aunt Stormi. One glass wouldn’t hurt me.” My niece, who happened to be too beautiful for words and, already having lived more in her short life than most people lived in fifty years, crossed her arms.

  “Maybe not, but jail would definitely hurt us all, and I’d be late to my wedding.” I gave her a wink and took a sip. I grimaced. Not my favorite, but I wasn’t going to be a fuddy-duddy, not tonight. Especially with my sister, Angela, narrowing her eyes at me over her glass.

  “I think my daughter can have a glass,” she said.

  “Oops. Sorry. Too late.” I grinned. Somebody needed to act like a parent. Angela and I had always suffered from sibling rivalry from the moment I was born and took over the house. Not to mention I’d had to loan her money on several occasions, and she now lived in my renovated attic. It was all a bitter pill for her to have to swallow.

  Once our drinks were filled, our server set a house salad in front of us. “Served with our cane sugar dressing,” he said. “The meal ordered for you tonight is our Filet Gumbo, Pilot House Potatoes, Creole Creamed Spinach, and for dessert…Natchez Bread Pudding. Enjoy!”

  It all sounded wonderful. I dug into my salad, closing my eyes in sheer pleasure at the sweet tang of the dressing.

  “Good evening.”

  I opened my eyes to the sight of Rachel in a clingy maxi dress and lacy shrug smiling down at us. “It seems as if I’ve crashed a bachelorette party.”

  “It’s only crashing if we let you sit down, dear,” Mom said.

  I hid my grin behind my napkin. “Nice to see you again, Rachel.”

  “Unexpected, I’m sure.” She glanced over her shoulder. “My dinner date and I always take the dinner cruise when I’m in town. I thought it rude if I didn’t stop by and say hello.” She stepped close to my chair and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Congratulations, again.” With another cool smile, she turned and returned to her table.

  “What an odd girl.” Mom snapped her napkin across her lap. “She has a lot of nerve approaching us, considering who she is.”

  My eyes widened. “You know her?”

  “She’s a famous photographer, dear, and was once engaged to Matthew.”

  I glared at Maryann. She’d left out the bit of information that they had actually been engaged.

  She mouthed “sorry” and shoved a forkful of salad into her mouth.

  “Things aren’t as rosy in Stormi’s world as they usually are.” Angela grinned and refilled her champagne glass.

  Great. I’d have to deal with a tipsy sister at my bachelorette party.

  By the time we finished our delicious and very filling meal, I wished I’d worn elastic waist pants. “Let’s take a walk around deck. I’m stuffed. Mom, you might want to hold Angela’s hand.”

  My sister said a very naughty word and pushed back from the table. When she teetered on her stiletto heels, she clutched Mom’s arm.

  Cherokee rolled her eyes and walked away, most likely to pretend she didn’t know her mother.

  I followed my friends and family and took a deep breath of Mississippi river air. Nothing like the smell of water and mud to ground a person.

  “Look.” Maryann pointed to the opposite end of the deck. “It looks as if Rachel is arguing with her date. I wish I could see more than just the back of his head.”

  “Why? You probably don’t know him.”

  “But, what if I do?”

  Good point, I guess, although I couldn’t figure out why it mattered. “Let’s ditch the others and mosey that way.”

  “It won’t matter.” Rachel flipped her hair. “I’ll get him back. It’s only a matter of time. Have you seen her? Ugh.”

  She couldn’t possibly be talking about me and Matt, could she? Oh, I’d like to wring her—”

  Maryann yanked me into an alcove. “You don’t want her to see you!”

  I guess I was approaching her at a rather rapid rate. “It sounds like she plans on going after Matt.”

  “He loves you. She doesn’t stand a chance.” She peered around the corner. “They’re gone. Come on.”

  “I really don’t want to spy or do any investigating on my bachelorette weekend.” I turned back to where Mom and the others leaned on the railing.

  “We aren’t. I just want to know if she’s actually going to try and break you and my brother apart. You don’t want to be blindsided, do you?”

  “You’re contradicting yourself, Maryann. Either I have nothing to worry about, or I do.”

  “We’re just playing it safe. Stop.” She motioned to where Rachel stood a few feet away.

  “I told you not to worry about it. I’ll have him eating out of my hand in a week.”

  My gaze locked on Maryann’s wide one. This did not sound good at all.

  2

  While I’d had a very good time in New Orleans, it was always nice to get home. Before unpacking, I took a couple of ibuprofen for a killer headache knocking on my skull, then curled up on the front porch swing and gave my hunky fiancé a call.

  “I’m home,” I said the moment he answered.

  “Already on my way. I was watching for you.”

  I stood and spott
ed him coming down the sidewalk. I turned off my phone and jumped off the porch to run toward him.

  He grabbed me in his arms and swung me around before planting a heated kiss on my lips. “Did you have a good time?”

  “Yep. I also had the displeasure of meeting your ex, Rachel.” I spotted Ethel Rogers and Mrs. Olson glaring at us from their front lawns. Oh, well. The neighbors should be used to me kissing Matt in broad daylight by now.

  “Maryann told me. I’m sorry about that. Do you feel all right?”

  “I’ve had a bad headache since yesterday. It’ll pass, eventually.” I led him to the swing. “When was the last time you saw or spoke with her?”

  “Over a year ago. Why?” He sat and pulled me onto his lap.

  “I overheard her talking with someone and it sounded suspiciously as if she were plotting to break us up.”

  He tweaked my nose. “Impossible to do. Your new private investigator mind is working overtime.”

  “I hope so.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “Can you stay for dinner?”

  “No, I’m leaving soon for a job.”

  “What? I just got home.” I straightened.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Sighing, I stood. “I know. How long will you be gone?”

  “No more than a week, I don’t think. We should be able to crack the case pretty quickly.”

  I hated that he worked dangerous undercover work, but I couldn’t blame him. Since my first accidental mystery a little over a year ago, I’d gotten hooked on not only outsmarting the crook, but the dollars writing the true crime mysteries brought in. Yes, I could relate to the rush he felt when closing a case. I leaned down and kissed him. “I love you. Be careful and call as often as you can.”

  “I will.” He stood and pulled me back into his arms. “I love you, too, Stormi. Don’t worry about Rachel. I doubt you’ll ever see her again.”

  After a kiss that left me weak in the knees, he bounded down the steps, tossed me a wave, and headed to his house.

  With a heavy sigh I trudged to my bedroom to unpack. I unzipped my case and tossed everything on the bed. While I might pack carefully for vacation, I threw the dirty clothes back in the suitcase in any way they would fit. They were only going in the washing machine.

  I rubbed the area between my eyes and plopped on the bed. What was up with this headache? I wasn’t prone to them. Could I be having a reaction to something I’d eaten?

  I headed to the restroom for a cool washrag, then lay on the bed with the wet rag over my eyes. Now, I could completely empathize with people who suffered from migraines.

  “Do you need help unpacking?”

  I lifted the rag to see Mom peering down at me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Head hurts.”

  She nodded. “I’ll throw your dirty things in the wash for you. I’ve started a load.” She gathered an armful.

  Something fell from the pile of laundry with a muffled thud. “What a creepy souvenir. Why’d you buy this?” Mom held up a rag doll with red yarn for hair. Sticking out of its head were three hat pins.

  I sat up. “I didn’t buy that. Maybe Angela stuck it in there because her suitcase was too full.”

  “I’ll ask her.” Mom tossed the doll on the bed.

  Ivory and Ebony, my elusive cats, charged from under the bed and pounced after the horrid thing. I smiled, despite my headache. I’d missed my kitties. Since I’d gotten Sadie, my giant Irish Wolfhound, the cats tended to avoid me. But, Sadie was outside doing her business, and the cats decided to play.

  Angela stomped into my room. “I didn’t stick anything in your…that’s disgusting.” She pointed at the doll. “Why would you buy that?”

  “I didn’t.” I tossed the rag on the nightstand and grabbed the doll away from the cats. It really was hideous with sewn Xs for eyes, yarn hair, and a shapeless body.

  “I know what that is.” Angela’s eyes widened. “That’s a voodoo doll. See the pins? The doll is supposed to represent you. Those pins cause pain on your body wherever they are on the doll.”

  “That explains the headache,” Mom added, coming back into the room.

  “I don’t believe in that stuff and neither should you two.” I yanked the pins from the doll’s head and laid them on the nightstand.

  “Is your headache gone?” Mom asked.

  Surprisingly, it was ebbing. “It has nothing to do with superstition. The real question is…how did it get into my suitcase?” If none of us put it there, it would have had to have been one of the hotel staff. But, why? Were they paid to put it there? This might be one mystery I never solved. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. “Throw it away.”

  “Now that the pins are out, Sadie would probably like it.” Mom picked it up by a strand of red yarn hair.

  “That’s fine. You can toss it on her bed. You’re right. The animals will enjoy it.” I swung my legs over the bed. My phone beeped, alerting me to a text message. It was from Dakota. Come to my work. Don’t tell anyone. Come alone. 911. Come quick.

  Rather cryptic. “I’m heading out for coffee. Anyone want anything?”

  “I’ll come with you,” Mom said. “I need to check in at the bakery.”

  Angela shook her head.

  Great. I’d drop Mom off, then check on Dakota. Of course, his text did seem rather urgent. “I’m leaving now, Mom. If you aren’t ready, you’ll have to drive yourself.”

  “Wow. I’ve never known anyone in such a hurry for coffee in the middle of the day. Especially, someone who was dying from a headache mere seconds ago. Go without me. I’ll probably be at the bakery longer than you want to hang around anyway.”

  “Thanks.” I bounded down the stairs, grabbed my purse, and set off toward Gadgets and More, What Every Spy Needs.

  The store was dark. The front door locked. I cupped my hands and peered through the front window. What was my nephew up to now?

  Digging my phone from my pocket, I sent him a text. Door is locked. Where are you?

  Come to back door. Don’t let anyone see you.

  Since making him an unofficial partner in my PI business, Dakota tended to be dramatic in everyday things. Still, it wasn’t like him to be this secretive.

  With a glance up and down the street and, not seeing anyone, I ducked into the alley and counted doors until I reached the fifth one. The door swung open at my touch.

  “Hello?”

  “Back here. Close the door.”

  I did as instructed and made my way through the dimly lit room to a supply closet. Dakota knelt next to a computer monitor set on the floor.

  “What’s with all the cloak and dagger?”

  “You need to see this.” He pressed a button and the screen came to life.

  “Where’s Mr. Dixon?” It bothered me that the store was closed when it should be open and that Dakota sat in the dark by himself. My gut told me something was seriously wrong.

  “I don’t know. After being here for over an hour by myself, I found this video. I think it’s a live stream of his house.”

  That got my attention. I squatted next to my nephew as the camera panned through a living room, a bedroom, and into a kitchen.

  “The camera hops from room to room. I’m trying to find out whether I can rewind the tape or not. You’ll see why in a minute.”

  I gasped. Mr. Dixon, a knife sticking out of his back, lay between the kitchen sink and the island. A pool of dark liquid spread from underneath him. “Have you called the police?”

  He glanced at me. “You think this is all real?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Last year, I found a similar tape on Halloween. It was a prank. But, this one is much better done.”

  I bit my lower lip. “Let’s go to his house and check it out. I’m calling Wayne to meet us there.” If it was a joke, it was a sick one.

  “Why not Matt?”

  “Gone on assignment.” I missed him already. “Come on. I’ll drive.”

  While w
e locked the back door, then made our way to my car, I dialed Wayne, Matt’s partner, and left a message for him to meet us at Mr. Dixon’s house. I didn’t have an address, since Dakota knew the way, but the police department would find it easily enough.

  Mr. Dixon lived in an upscale area of newly built homes. I preferred the character of my neighborhood full of Victorian fixer uppers being restored to their former glory. Still, the money spent on the houses was impressive.

  His two-story red-brick house sat in the middle of a curved driveway. White pillars graced the front porch in plantation style. I parked in front of the double wide forest green doors. “I have a really bad feeling about this.”

  “Me, too.” Dakota pushed open his car door. “I can see his jeep parked in the garage. It isn’t like him not to come to work without telling me.”

  “Maybe you should stay in the car and let me check it out.” I grabbed my pink Glock from my purse.

  “Not a chance.” He dug through my personal things until his hand came from the recesses of my purse clutching my Tazor.

  My sister was going to kill me if anything happened to her almost seventeen-year-old son. “Then, at least stay behind me.” Please, God, don’t let us die.

  I tried the front door. Locked. I led the way to the back door where the window in the kitchen door was shattered and the door swung open. “Be careful of the glass.”

  “I’m not a baby.”

  “Just saying.”

  I stepped into the kitchen, gun at the ready, and moved around the island until I found Mr. Dixon very, very dead. “Unfortunately, the video stream was real.” I leaned against the counter. “I’m sorry, Dakota.”

  “Yeah, I really liked him.” He glanced to where a camera was mounted in the corner above the cabinets. “I bet this house is loaded with cool things. One of these cameras had to have caught the killer in action.”

  “I agree. The chances of the police letting us anywhere near this place once they get here are slim, so…without touching anything…see what you can find out, and I’ll wait for Wayne. No, nevermind. You stay here, and I’ll look around.” What if the killer was still there? I couldn’t send Dakota into danger.