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

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Who is it?”

  She sighed. “Susan Burnett.”

  “Why would she be following us?”

  “Her and I were talking the other day and I brought up the fact that I would have a daughter soon. She said the same thing. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she planned on taking this little darling here same as me.”

  “There are two of you wackos wanting my kid?” Maybe I needed to move out of Oak Meadows. It was far from the peaceful town the real estate agent had told me when I bought my house.

  “Take the next exit. Do not use your blinker. Wait until the last second to turn.” Cheryl barked orders worthy of any Army drill sergeant.

  I almost passed the exit, then yanked the wheel to the right. My shoulder screamed in pain. “It didn’t work. She’s still behind us.”

  “For crying out loud.” She turned in the seat and fired out the back window. “Maybe that will slow her down.”

  Roxi cried.

  “Do not shoot that gun around Roxi!” I slammed on the brakes, jerking us against our seatbelts. “I’ll stop right here and let you and Susan fight it out.”

  “Okay. I agree that was not the wisest course of action for a mother to take. Let’s get moving. We’re almost there.”

  We headed into the same part of town I’d almost died at the hands of a gangster girlfriend. Adult bookstores lined the street with liquor stores. Girls in gaudy clothing whistled and waved as we sped by. A group of African American youths gave us dirty looks.

  “This car sticks out like a sore thumb,” Cheryl said. “Ditch it in that alley. We walk from here.”

  That was definitely not a good idea. Still, she had the gun, and I didn’t.

  We piled out of the car and, with Roxi on my left hip, hurried down the alley toward an old apartment complex. Cheryl waved me inside.

  “Third floor, second room on the right. This is where I lived before Lance saved me. It’s only temporary. I plan on leaving the country in the morning,” Cheryl said. “I’ve already rented a car. I’ve heard Canada is a beautiful place to live.”

  The feeling wasn’t coming back to my right arm very quickly. If she’d broken one of my bones, I’d throttle her. I didn’t want to wear a cast to my wedding.

  Cheryl shoved me into an apartment. Peeling wallpaper gave the impression the room had leprosy. I didn’t even want to know what had caused the stains on the faded green sofa against the opposite wall. A lopsided dinette with two chairs filled a small kitchen nook.

  “I came from very humble beginnings,” she said. “Put my daughter at the table. I bought groceries yesterday.”

  “Ice cream,” Roxi mumbled against my neck.

  “I don’t think the mean lady has any.”

  “Of course, I do. Strawberry.” Cheryl pointed at the mustard yellow fridge in the kitchen. “Go fix her a bowl. What kind of mother doesn’t have ice cream in the freezer?”

  Crazy ones? Murderous ones? The list was endless.

  I served Roxi the ice cream in a paper bowl. At least I didn’t need to worry about dirty dishes. I had the horrible feeling that Cheryl has furry company in her squalid abode. I sat in the chair opposite Roxi and folded my hands on the table. I wanted to ask, “Now what?” but was afraid of the answer.

  “What to do? What to do?” Cheryl paced the small room. “I’m not sure I want my daughter spending even one night here, but until I can get to the bank to withdraw—” She screamed and pounded the sofa. She called Lance Miller a few choice names I wouldn’t repeat, then turned to me. “Call your mother.”

  “Why?” I frowned.

  “Because I don’t have any money. You do.” She dug in her pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. “Have your mother transfer $100,000 dollars immediately into this account.”

  I sighed. There went my attic renovation, any future vacations, etc. I could refuse, but staring down the barrel of a .45 was a great motivator. “Give me your phone.”

  “Wait. I haven’t thought this through.” She chewed her thumbnail. “If I give you my cell phone, and you make a call, they’ll trace it. They’re probably already tracing it.” She dropped the phone and hammered it to smithereens with the gun. “There’s a landline in the hall. If you keep the call short, yes…that will work. Get up.”

  She showed me the phone, easily viewable from her doorway. “I will stand here and keep one eye on you and one on my daughter. If you say anything you shouldn’t or if you stay on the phone too long, I’ll shoot you. Do you want to die here?”

  Not really. I shuddered and headed for the phone. Eeew. Who knew what germs were on the thing. I pulled the sleeve of my tee shirt over my hand and lifted the receiver.

  Mom answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “It’s me. I need you to transfer money from my account to Cheryl’s.”

  “Thank God, you’re alive.”

  “I can’t talk long, or I won’t be. Here’s the account number.”

  “You know I’m not going to do that.”

  “Hopefully, she’ll be—”

  Cheryl cleared her throat.

  “I’ve got to go. I love you. Tell Matt I love him more than a gangster loves his gardening gal.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Just tell him.” I hung up, hoping he’d decipher the clue.

  A few months ago, a killer named Ivy had killed a prostitute with poison ivy from her greenhouse. That greenhouse was only a block from this apartment building. If Matt came, and I saw signs of him being close, I’d find a way to alert him to my location. The cell phone GPS in my cleavage would only get him so close.

  “Back inside.” Cheryl motioned with the gun.

  I wanted to shove that thing right up her rear end. “You’re really starting to annoy me with that thing.”

  “Shut up while I figure out what to do with you. How long does it take for money to transfer?”

  “Until morning, most likely. It might be accessible late this afternoon.”

  “Lucky girl. You might still be alive to see the sunset and rise.” She plopped on the sofa, raising a cloud of dust. “So, now we wait.”

  Unfortunately. Where was Ben Haverson? Or Matt? I honestly thought one or the other would have arrived by now. “Do you have a restroom?”

  “Of course I have a restroom. I’m not an animal. First door on your left. Don’t even think about trying to escape. There’re bars on the window.”

  I wasn’t going anywhere as long as Roxi was here. Pushing open the door, I stepped into a pink bathroom straight from the fifties. I was just plunging my hand into my bra for my phone, when pounding footsteps drew me back to the living room.

  Susan Burnett raced into the room. In her right hand, she clutched a revolver.

  23

  Maybe they’d shoot each other. I moved to stand in front of Roxi. The child had finished her ice cream and stared wide-eyed at the two women facing each other.

  “I told you, the girl was mine.” Susan planted her feet shoulder-width apart and aimed her gun at Cheryl.

  “Keep dreaming.” Cheryl’s gun pointed at Susan’s head. “What we have here is a good old-fashioned western showdown.”

  One where Roxi and I were trapped in the middle. I glanced at the window next to the table. If I could get it open and shove Roxi out, maybe she could make her way down the fire escape. No, too far. She’d never make it without me, and I didn’t think I could get her and me out fast enough.

  While the two crazies were trained on each other, I pulled out my cell phone, punched in Matt’s number, and set it on the table behind me. If nothing else, Matt would hear what was happening in the room. I eyed the heavy cross necklace. If I could wield the thing—”

  “I’m Wyatt Earp,” Susan said. “That makes me the winner. Put your gun down.”

  “Not on your life. I’ve killed people, you haven’t. Adding you to the list isn’t going to make me grieve.”

  My two top suspects. Cheryl had al
ways been my number one. Too bad I hadn’t had time to act on finding out who the earring belonged to before getting kidnapped.

  Roxi tugged on the back of my shirt. “Daddy is talking.”

  “Tell him to hush. We don’t want him heard,” I whispered.

  “Be quiet, daddy.”

  “Help is coming.” He quickly said the words I so desperately wanted to hear, then my phone went silent.

  In the distance, I heard the wonderful roar of multiple Harleys. Tears sprang to my eyes. Ben had come through for me. He and his boys would have seats of honor at my wedding.

  The feeling was returning to my right arm, and I grabbed a nearby broom in one hand and the cross in the other, feeling somewhat like a medieval warrior. While no match for a bullet, if I got close enough, I could deliver a powerful whack to someone’s head. Cheryl’s head was my first choice.

  “You okay, baby?”

  “I’m not a baby,” Roxi said. She slid from her chair and ran between the gun wielding women. “Play nice.” She stomped her foot.

  The crazies froze. No doubt, both in fear for their “daughter’s” safety. Both eased their fingers off the triggers.

  Now was my chance. “Run outside, Roxi!” Holding the broom like a Samurai sword and swinging the necklace, I lunged at Cheryl, bringing the handle of the broom down on her forearm.

  She screamed and dropped her gun.

  I whirled and swung the cross at Susan’s head. She ducked. I swung again, catching her in the knees.

  She joined Cheryl on the floor. I was saved by the cross!

  I dove for the guns, coming up with one in each hand. “Now, isn’t this a wonderful change of events.” I grinned.

  “It’s two against one.” Holding her arm close to her side, Cheryl struggled to her feet.

  “That’s right.” I nodded. “Two guns…against none. Sit on the sofa, both of you.”

  “I can’t walk,” Susan said. “Why’d you have to hit me? I wasn’t going to kill you? I’m not a psycho?”

  “You were going to take my daughter.”

  “You’re young enough to have another one.”

  These two were absolutely clueless. “If you can’t walk, crawl.”

  At that moment, five burly biker men crowded the small apartment. Ben took the guns from me. “You all right, Lady?”

  “I’m wonderful now. Where’s my daughter?”

  “Big Dan has her in the hall. He’s good with kids. Do you want me to shoot them?”

  “No. There’s been enough killing.” I rushed into the hall and grabbed Roxi from Dan, holding her tightly to me. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”

  “Not as long as we’re around,” Big Dan said, his voice surprisingly high for such a big man. “You can call me Danny, little one.”

  She tugged on his beard and giggled.

  Still squeezing her tight, I headed down the stairs, knowing Cheryl and Susan weren’t going anywhere with Ben and his boys watching them. I stepped into the bright autumn afternoon and sagged to the steps. Now that the danger was over, I let the tears of fear fall. I’d come so close to losing not only my life, but this dear child.

  “You know, Roxi. I think I will hang up my PI license and start making up stories again. This isn’t the life for a child and I hope to give you a couple of brothers and sisters someday.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Matt grinned from a few feet away.

  I jumped up and ran to him, squashing Roxi between us. “This was the worst yet.”

  “Worse than being forced to write a story at gunpoint?”

  “Yes.”

  “Worse than facing down a gang? What about poison octopuses? Or when Cherokee was kidnapped?” He chuckled and wrapped his arms around us.

  “Much worse. This one involved our baby.”

  He rested his chin on the top of my head. “Yes, it did. I’ve never been more frightened. And, I’ve been in some tough situations. Thank you for watching out for her.”

  “I couldn’t have done anything else.” I lifted my face for his kiss.

  He didn’t disappoint. He kissed me until everything around us faded and I lost my breath. He kissed me until my knees grew weak and he had to hold Roxi and me to keep us from falling. He kissed me until hoots and hollers brought us back to reality.

  I turned to see Ben and the guys marching out the two sullen crazies. I turned away. I had nothing to say to those women.

  Three squad cars roared to a stop a few feet from the building while gang members and prostitutes looked on. I slipped my hand into Matt’s. “Let’s go home.”

  Together, the three of us made our way to the Mustang. It sat on the road, its tires having been stolen, along with the steering wheel and stereo.

  “Hey, Lady!” Ben tossed us the keys to his bike. “Take care of her.”

  I knew he was talking to Matt and not only about the Harley.

  “That’s a guarantee.” He caught the keys mid-air, then glanced at Roxi. “Now, this is a predicament.”

  “Those aren’t my keys,” Ben said, laughing. “Use the bike with the side car.”

  Matt slung his arm around my shoulders and led the way to our ride.

  “Mama.”

  I turned at Roxi’s sweet word. “Yes, baby.” I slid my hand into Matt’s. “We’ll have to make sure she remembers Rachel. She might not have been the nicest person, but she did give birth to your daughter.”

  He squeezed my hand. “She gave me a great gift, although belatedly, and in the wrong way. Together, we’ll make sure Roxi remembers who gave birth to her.” He tugged me close and kissed me. “You’re kind heart is one of the many things I love about you. Not everyone would care that a spiteful woman such as my ex was gone, leaving a child behind.”

  I’d lost a parent. Hopefully, the pain I felt at my father’s passing would help me comfort Roxi later on.

  EPILOGUE

  I stood in a rented tent in front of a full length mirror and stared at the woman in front of me. I’d been through a lot in the last year or so, but I’d grown through it all. My faith was strengthened and I was marrying the love of my life. A man who accepted me faults and all.

  “You look gorgeous.” Mom adjusted my cathedral length veil. “That is the perfect dress for you.”

  I’d decided to embrace my slenderness. The formfitting dress hugged my arms and upper torso, landing just off the shoulders. The edge of the sleeves fluttered to my wrists. From the knees, the dress billowed out, leaving room to walk and trailed a foot behind me. Swarovski crystals dotted the bodice. I felt like an angel.

  Thank you, God…for everything. All that I’d gone through, all that I was, and all that was to come.

  Ben Haverson, looking remarkably handsome in a tux, ducked into the tent. “The natives are getting restless.”

  “I’m ready.” I slipped my arm through his elbow. “Thank you for agreeing to give me away. I’ve never missed my father more than I do at this moment.”

  “Lady, the pleasure is all mine.”

  With Cherokee leading the way, followed by Angela, then Maryann and Roxi, we stepped out of the tent onto a white carpet runner. The roar of many Harleys immediately filled the air and I laughed through my tears. “Oh, Ben.”

  “We wanted you to have a royal send off into matrimony.” He grinned through his beard.

  When the roar died down, the wedding march began and I took my first step toward my groom.

  Matt waited under an arch set up with the lake behind it. The late afternoon rays of the sun sprinkled diamonds on the surface of the water while autumn leaves rained down upon the path in front of me and my guests. It couldn’t be a more beautiful wedding.

  Ben handed me over to Matt.

  I slipped my hand into his, warmed by the tears in his eyes. “I love you.”

  “I love you,” he said, his voice catching. “You are the woman God designed for me.”

  I smiled through my own tears, not caring if my makeup was mussed.

&
nbsp; In a dreamlike state, I heard and did as instructed while the pastor led us in our vows. When it came time to kiss the bride, I didn’t wait. I thrust my veil back and wrapped my arms around Matt’s neck. He was mine. Officially mine.

  Our guests laughed and clapped as he kissed me and dipped me over his arm. All was right in my world.

  The End

  CHRISTMAS

  WITH

  STORMI NELSON

  Two short Christmas Stories

  By Cynthia Hickey

  A Thief For a Reason

  And

  A Christmas Deception

  First published in A Cup of Cozy 2 and a Cup of Cozy 3

  Copyright 2015

  Written by: Cynthia Hickey

  Published by: Winged Publications

  Cover Design: Cynthia Hickey

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  No part of this book may be copied or distributed without the author’s consent.

  A THIEF FOR A REASON

  1

  I dipped the cooled, cooked bacon into the chocolate, then thrust it into my mouth. Holiday cooking was my downfall. It always took me weeks to lose the five pounds I put on between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

  “If you don’t stop eating, we won’t have anything to feed our guests.” Mom plopped several cans of assorted beans and tomatoes on the counter.

  “I have to do a taste test.”

  “You did that last week.” Mom crossed her arms. “I can’t help you with your list if I want to get my baking done.” She glanced at her watch. “Guests will be arriving in five hours.”

  I sighed. Although I was excited to host my first Holiday Open House, I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of a progressive type affair where everyone went from house-to-house. I’d begged to stay home after the horde left our place, but Mom insisted I had to go along.