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

by Cynthia Hickey

  I returned her grin. “I say it with love. Let me know if you hear anything of interest, okay? I’ve got a wedding to plan. Solving a murder wasn’t on my long list of things to do.”

  “Sometimes, life, or death, gets in the way,” she said.

  I knew that first hand. “What do you know about voodoo?”

  “Not much.” She cocked her head. “But, there is an old woman in the mountains who is rumored to be some kind of priestess. You might want to ask about her at the thrift store. I think her granddaughter works there. Think African princess.”

  “Thanks.” Now, I really was sure I wanted nothing to do with voodoo nonsense. A priestess on the mountain, an African princess…what else?

  “Here.” Norma handed me a cross necklace. “It’s been blessed.”

  “Oooo-kay.” I took the jewelry and dropped it into my purse. The cross had to be five inches long and weighed a ton. “I’ll talk to you later. Keep your chin up.”

  “You keep the bad ju-ju off your back.”

  Her ominous words followed me all the way to the car. Few things shook my faith, but between Angela and Norma, things were trembling a bit. I needed a cupcake to go with my coffee, so I headed across the street to Mom’s bakery. Greta was an ex-cop. Maybe she knew something about all this nonsense that could help me.

  “Welcome to Heavenly—oh, hello, dear.” Mom wiped her hands on a towel. “How’s the crime solving going?”

  “Your mom told me about Mr. Dixon,” Greta said, standing next to Mom. “A real shame.”

  I pushed through the waist high swinging doors that separated the front of the store from where the magic happened and grabbed a chocolate cupcake with chocolate frosting. “I’ve more than one mystery staring me in the face. There’s Mr. Dixon and now, it seems as if someone is trying to give me the evil eye.” I told them about the doll, the cat, and the old lady on the mountain. “Would you know anything about anything happening around here, Greta?”

  “There are still a few old timers that believe in that stuff, but it seems to be dying off with them.” She handed me a napkin. “Thank the Lord in Heaven.”

  “Do you know anything about the new barista, Jordyn?” I took a big bite and rolled my eyes with pleasure.

  “She’s a bit of a floozy, just like her mother was, bless her heart, or so the rumors go. She isn’t from around here. The mother’s dead now. Been gone about ten years. Drug overdose. That’s what I heard.” Greta leaned close as if there were someone around to hear. “Some say it was done to her. You know? Like a Marilyn Monroe type of thing.”

  Things were now sounding like a conspiracy theory. “Please tell me you agree that these two things are not related. Because, if they are, I’m afraid my nephew is going to be very disappointed. I am not going to investigate a death where the devil had played.” I shoved the last of the cupcake in my mouth.

  “I don’t think they’re related.” Greta measured flour into a large stainless steel bowl. “But, I do think you need to be careful.”

  “Not that either of you asked,” Mom said, “but I think you need to call Matthew and tell him his ex-fiance is playing dirty.”

  5

  I woke the next morning to my phone ringing. I grappled on the nightstand for it, elated to see Matt’s number. “Hello.”

  “Good morning, gorgeous.” His deep voice sent shivers up my spine, and not in a bad way. “How are you?”

  “I’m great, now that you’ve called. You?”

  “I’m doing okay. Should be home in a few days. What are you doing today?”

  Uh-oh. I could tell from the tone of his voice that he’d spoken with someone who had filled him in on some of the details. Wayne Jones had loose lips! “Your girlfriend is sending me scary gifts!” Well, not necessarily all scary. I grinned as Midnight attacked my toes under the sheets while Sadie and the other two cats watched.

  “Ex-girlfriend. What is she doing?”

  I explained about the doll and cat. “I think she’s harmless and just expressing her displeasure, but Angela thinks she’s trying to curse me.”

  “Ignore Rachel and your sister. I’ll take care of that. Now, about Mr. Dixon…”

  I spilled my guts, even going as far as letting him know about Dakota downloading the recording. “Today, I’m going to visit some old voodoo lady on the mountain while Dakota sets up his spy equipment.”

  “I said I’d take care of Rachel’s nonsense.”

  “Are you a voodoo expert?”

  “Well, no—”

  “Supposedly, this woman is. I just want to make sure I don’t need to expect your ex to lean over me with a knife while I’m sleeping.” Why couldn’t the woman have stayed at some exotic locale taking her photographs?

  “That won’t happen.” He sighed. “You need to be more worried about who killed Dixon. Why do you get involved in these things when I’m gone?”

  I couldn’t tell him that losing him was my biggest fear. That had come toot close to happening with the last two mysteries. “Dakota asked for my help. After seeing the tape, I can’t back out. You know that.”

  “Yes, I do. Please, be careful. Investigate from behind the scenes and let the police do any confronting. I’d like you alive to marry me in a couple of months.”

  I smiled. “Me, too. I’m going to pick up my dress today after I visit the mountain.”

  “I love you. See you in a few.”

  “I love you, too.” We hung up and I got out of bed to face the day. A quick call to Maryann to see whether she wanted to go with me—she did—and I headed for the shower.

  Thirty minutes later, I’d picked up my maid-of-honor and second-in-command at solving crime, stopped for coffee, and headed to the thrift store to find an African princess.

  “Speaking of voodoo,” I said, turning off the car’s ignition, “did you dump the syrup in Michael’s drink?”

  “Yeah.” Her shoulders slumped. “No proposal.”

  I laughed. “Give it time. The man loves you. A blind person can see it.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  We entered the thrift store and peered past the miles of shelves filled with dusty things. The counter close to the door was empty of all but a cash register. We could have easily grabbed the thing and dashed back out.

  “Be right there.” A throaty voice from somewhere behind a rack of clothes stated. When the woman appeared, there was no doubting why Norma described her the way she had. The store proprietor wore ethnic clothes in rich browns, greens, and gold. She easily stood five foot ten or taller. The hair piled high on her head made her a giant. She grinned, her teeth startling white against her ebony skin. I’d never seen a more striking woman. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

  “Voodoo,” Maryann blurted out. She gasped and clasped a hand over her mouth.

  “Let me guess. Unrequited love.” The Amazon glided behind the counter. “I don’t practice black magic.”

  “Ignore her.” I stepped in front of Maryann.

  “Why would two very white Christian women be interested in such things?”

  “I’ve been receiving some…well, some people think they’re threats. A doll and a black cat. I don’t believe in such things, as you say, but I’d like to talk to the old woman on the mountain to see whether I should be alarmed?”

  “Oh, you should be alarmed, all right. Black magic is never anything to scoff at, as Mamba Jane will tell you. Here.” She drew a rough map on the back of a slip of register tape. “You tell her Sissy sent you. That way…she won’t shoot you.”

  “Wow. Thanks.” I grabbed Maryann’s arm and got out of there as fast as possible. “What is wrong with you?”

  “I choked. She’s very intimidating.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t say a word at Mamba Jane’s. Let me do the talking. Your brother would prefer I stay alive.”

  She nodded. “I completely agree.” She buckled her seatbelt. “Onward.”

  According to
the map, we took Eagle Hill Road and wound our way to the top. A rarely traveled dirt road with nothing more than a rusty antique milk can as a marker took us to the right. The car bottomed out several times in potholes as big as bath tubs.

  “We’re walking.” I cut the ignition. “I’m not going to damage my car.”

  “According to the map, we have a couple of miles.” Maryann frowned.

  I glanced at her feet, glad to see we’d both had the foresight to wear gym shoes instead of flip flops. “Toughen up. We can do this.” I shoved open my door and stepped into a thick forest. A quick glance at my phone showed I had no cell phone service. Great. I said a quick prayer for protection and set off down the road with Maryann rushing to catch up.

  “We don’t have any food or water,” she said.

  “I don’t plan on spending the night.”

  “I’m a hard working literary assistant and crime solver,” she said, panting. “But hiking is not my thing.”

  “Think of it as an adventure.”

  “Ugh.”

  An hour later, I wasn’t thinking so fondly of our so-called adventure either, but we had arrived at our destination. In front of us was a log cabin, the type you might see in a magazine. Smoke drifted lazily from the chimney despite the warm autumn day.

  “It doesn’t look like a witch’s house,” Maryann said.

  “Who said anything about her being a witch?”

  “Are you afraid?”

  “No.”

  “Then why aren’t you knocking on the door?”

  Good question. Maybe I was a little fearful. Experience had taught me things were not always as welcoming as they may seem. I took a deep breath and climbed the three steps leading to the front door. I rapped three times and stepped back.

  “Who’s there?” A voice as full and throaty as the Amazon’s said.

  “We were sent by Sissy.”

  The door swung open. A little old lady with a wrinkled face and hunched back stared out at us. “What you want?”

  “I have a couple of questions.”

  “We should have brought the doll,” Maryann whispered.

  “What doll?” Mamba Jane’s eyes narrowed.

  I explained about the doll and cat. “What should I do?”

  “I could sell you a gris gris to ward off evil spirits,” she said. “But, it seems more like someone is toying with you. No fear.”

  “They aren’t warning me that they want me dead?”

  “Out of picture, yes, dead…probably not. You want buy something?”

  I shook my head. It looked as if Maryann and I had wasted our time. Except for the fact that despite my saying I wasn’t superstitious, I felt a lot better. “Thank you for answering our questions.”

  Mamba Jane’s eyes widened. “Maybe giver of doll not harm you, but harm will come. Oh, yes. You be careful and wear that cross.” She slammed the door.

  “What cross?” Maryann said.

  “Norma gave me one as a good luck charm.”

  “Where is it?”

  “In my purse in the car.” My real good luck charm, God, was always with me. “I’m not going to run scared on the words of an old woman. No one even knows I’m working on Dixon’s murder case.”

  “But somebody will.” She wagged her finger in my face. “They always find out. How did she know you had a cross in your purse?”

  I didn’t want to think about that. “Let’s go pick up my wedding dress.” We both needed something fun to overshadow the warning of Mamba Jane.

  ~

  Two hours later, I stood in front of enough full length mirrors to see every side of me. My form fitting gown with a kick out hem made me feel like a queen. The cathedral veil splayed out behind me.

  “You’re gorgeous in that.” Maryann’s eyes shimmered. “Wait until Matt sees you.”

  I glanced at her royal blue knee length sheath style dress. “That is the perfect color for you.”

  She sighed. “Getting married at the lake with autumn leaves raining down on you will be beautiful. The water will sparkle behind you. It’s perfect.”

  “I hope so. Help me out of this so we can get it home and in the closet.” Out of harm’s way of four inquisitive pets. Midnight would most likely see it as a climbing opportunity. “We need to run by the bakery. Greta wants me to show her the dress.”

  “Around all that chocolate?”

  “I’ll have her come out to the car.” I grinned and lifted my hair so Maryann could work the zipper.

  “I sincerely hope that dress is one of a kind.”

  I turned to see Rachel, arms crossed, a simpering smile on her face.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I was running errands and saw the two of you pop in, so I thought I’d follow.” She made a slow circle around me. She didn’t say anything, but I knew she found me lacking somewhere.

  “Go away, Rachel.” Maryann pulled aside the curtain to the dressing room. “You can’t stop this wedding. Matt loves Stormi in a way he never cared for you.”

  High spots of color appeared on the other woman’s cheeks. “It was I who broke off the engagement,” she said with a toss of her head. “It is I who can win him back.” With a toss of flowing locks, she whirled and marched away.

  “Don’t believe a word she says, Stormi.” Maryann let the curtain fall in place after I stepped in. “You’re Matt’s world.”

  I knew that, but Rachel’s words still stole some of the joy of the occasion. I shimmied, my dress puddling at my feet, and stared at my body in the mirror. Full bosom, although not large, a tiny waist, lean hips. I could hold my own, I decided. Even against a woman as curvy as Rachel.

  I hung the dress on the hanger, covered it with the thick plastic protective bag, and then rejoined Maryann. “Let’s go home.”

  We stopped by the bakery and let Mom and Greta ooh and ahh over my dress, then pack us a box of finger cookies to take home. Something new they were trying, Mom said.

  I explained to them about our morning adventure and seeing Rachel at the dress shop. “I should have asked her if she really is the one sending me stuff like the doll and cat. Although, I think of Midnight more as a gift. But I was in shock to see her at the wedding shop and forgot.”

  “I did a bit of background checking on her while you were gone.” Greta snatched a sheet of paper from next to the computer. “Seems our little Rachel lost her job last month for fooling around with a married co-worker.”

  And, she saw Matt as her way back to respectability.

  6

  At home, I hung my wedding dress in my closet and headed for Dakota’s lair…uh, room. This time I knocked, then knocked again, before he told me to enter.

  “Mr. Dixon has a daughter,” Dakota said, not looking up from his computer. “Strange that he never mentioned her, but she lives on the outskirts of town.” He printed off a sheet of paper and handed it to me. “Her address.”

  “You’re a marvel, oh, favorite nephew of mine.” I ruffled his hair. “Let me know if you find anything else of interest. I need to write down what I’ve learned so far…in story form…so my agent doesn’t have a coronary.”

  He didn’t acknowledge that I’d spoken. “I’m going to take a few days off of school to work on this.”

  “No, you’re not. You didn’t go today, I’m assuming. You’ll have to do your spying after school. It wouldn’t hurt for you to look for a new job, either.”

  That got his attention. He jerked his gaze away from the computer. “Aren’t you going to pay me for being your tech guy?”

  This was news to me. “If I do, you realize it won’t be every day work unless someone hires me, right?”

  “That’s fine. I don’t have any expenses.”

  I shrugged and headed for my office. It wasn’t the first time my sister was going to want to kill me because of my relationship with her kids. I tended to be a very lenient aunt.

  At my desk, I booted up my computer. Sure enough, there was an em
ail from my agent wanting to know details on my next book. I sent off a quick reply that I was just starting a doozy. Then, not to be a liar, I started my story with Rachel in Louisiana, only I changed the name of the not-so-innocent.

  Two hours later, I had the rough draft of the first chapter, ending with Dakota’s text to me. I stretched, popping kinks from my back, and rolled my chair back. When I was writing, I tended to forget to eat and drink. Now, my stomach grumbled and my mouth felt like it was filled with cotton.

  Maryann glanced up from the kitchen table when I entered. “Everything is set for your book signing tomorrow.”

  I’d forgotten. “I hate those things.”

  “They’re necessary for you to connect with your readers. Are you hungry? I ordered a pizza.”

  “You’re the best assistant ever.” I opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of strawberry flavored water and sat across from her. “Dakota seems to think he’s my tech guy and expects payment.”

  “You can afford it.”

  “True, but if this keeps up, I might have to actually advertise the fact that I’m a licensed private investigator.” I unscrewed the lid on the bottle and took several big gulps. Ah, that was better.

  “You have a lot on your plate.” She closed her laptop. “You write three books a year, solve mysteries so you have material for those three books, and got your license so you could have access to places you wouldn’t otherwise. Why do you have to hire yourself out?”

  “I don’t know. Seems like a waste of a license if I don’t.” I grinned.

  “I think Matt expects to get you pregnant as soon as possible so you’ll stop your gumshoeing.”

  I had just taken another drink and ended up spewing the water across the table. “He said that?” I wanted children of my own, I really did. Yes, I’d give up solving mysteries for them. “What would I write about?”

  “You’ll go back to making stuff up.”

  True. It was harder that way, but a whole lot safer. “Want to go visit Mr. Dixon’s daughter?”

  “Sure. I’m finished here.”

  I texted Dakota to let him know we were leaving, grabbed my purse, then headed for my car, Maryann behind me. I felt good at having carved out writing time in addition to doing more snooping. Unfortunately, solving crime sometimes pushed writing aside. This morning reinforced how much I enjoyed creating a story, whether based on fact or fiction.