Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mysteries Boxset

by Brianna Bates

  "She's innocent. I know it. And you should too.”

  Tyler just looked at her.

  Missy said, “And I'm going to prove it."

  "Don't do this again."

  "Do what? Solve a crime? Shouldn't that be your goal?"

  He slammed his door. He was not an angry man. In fact, one of the things she had loved about him in high school was his even keel. Tyler was usually happy and easy-going. Things didn’t get to him.

  So under normal circumstances, experiencing an unexpected outburst like this from him would have frightened her. But this time? This time she was happy just to get some kind of reaction. She'd gotten under his skin.

  "Melissa." His hands were on his shoulders. "All the evidence points at Noreen. I don't like it any more than you do, but the facts are the facts. I can't ignore them or explain them away. I have a job to do. I can’t not do my job because it’s unpleasant."

  "What facts?"

  He was still gripping her shoulders. His hands were so strong and warm. They were only a few feet apart, alone in his office. His touch sent a wave through her body. Her thighs tingled. For a moment, she thought he was going to…

  "If I'm wrong about this, that means there's a killer out there," Tyler said.

  “My point exactly.”

  “Melissa. I don't want you risking your life again."

  "I'm willing to risk my life for Noreen." Her anger and resolve was melting away, the longer he held onto her. "She's my best friend. She’d do the same for me."

  He shook his head, smirking. "I should know by now I can't stop you once you've made your mind up. You've always been headstrong."

  "Me?" She laughed. "Pot, meet kettle."

  "I'm a reed in the wind compared to you, Melissa DeMeanor."

  She saw that old twinkle in his eye for just a moment. It had been a frequent occurrence in high school, usually preceding some harmless mischief or signaling he was about to make his move on her. In a nanosecond, she was transported back in time to one of the many moments they'd spent in the back of his car. He always knew where to park so they could have privacy. She could still feel the press of his body on hers in that seat, the windows fogging quickly.

  Missy forced herself to focus on the big problem at hand.

  "She didn't do this, Tyler."

  He finally let go of her and she hated it.

  "I'm sorry I never told you," Tyler said. She knew what he was referring to: Noreen. "But honestly, you and I had already fallen out of touch by then and it would have been weird just to email you out of the blue to let you know that we..."

  He acted like that was all that needed to be said, but to her there was a big gaping black hole filled with unanswered questions. She'd never understood why they'd drifted apart so quickly in college. Sure, they'd agreed to see other people (a decision she regretted immediately) but once they had gone to separate schools for freshman year, they basically stopped talking. How had he been able to give her up so easily, when she'd spent so many nights those four years thinking about him? There had been a few other men, and there were times when Tyler was shuffled into the dim part of the back of her mind. But no matter what—no matter what—he always found a way to resurface in her thoughts at the most random of times.

  She'd loved two other men, but they'd come and gone and she didn't give them much thought these days. But Tyler?

  She thought about him every day. And she hated it.

  Though she knew she wouldn't like whatever answer he gave, she had to ask. "You never emailed me to let me know that you guys did what exactly?"

  For an instant, he looked like he was going to explain everything to her. She waited anxiously as his eyes got a faraway look and his mouth opened. She both wanted to know and didn’t want to know. Whatever had happened between them, no matter how brief or innocent or random, it would wound her. Missy steeled herself for the details.

  But then Tyler’s face hardened back into the mask he wore for his job every day.

  "Melissa, it was a long time ago, back in college. It hardly matters now."

  How could it not? Both of them had felt the need to keep their whatever-it-was from her all these years. It mattered enough to them to hide it. So clearly it was an issue. A complex swirl of emotions filled Missy.

  He filled the silence. "It was very brief and we kind of knew that it would be brief going in...it's compl—”

  "Complicated?" she asked, growing real tired of hearing that word come out of his mouth. "Just like it's complicated with your wife? I'm detecting a pattern here."

  "Don't be cruel," he said. "My point is that it was a long time ago."

  "So by that logic, our relationship hardly matters now also." She folded her arms. "It happened so long ago."

  He was instantly on the defensive. "No."

  "We were just kids, so it meant nothing, right?"

  "No, Melissa." He was shaking his head and his face was turning red. He looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole. "That's not true, you're twisting my words."

  "No, I'm trying to understand your words. You basically vanished after we went to college and I've never known why and..."

  There were so many more questions but she couldn't keep them straight in her mind. She needed closure. As stupid as it sounded, that was what she needed. They had drifted apart almost twenty years ago and it was still bothering her, even after all this time. Was she crazy? Probably. Most other women would have probably been over it by now. She’d thought she was. But then he’d come back to Grove City, and she’d felt this immediate connection with him again.

  "Melissa, I really can't talk about this right now."

  "When's a good time?" she said.

  He opened the door again. "I have work to do."

  For a moment, she didn't move. Her eyes bore into him and he squirmed under their glare.

  "I have a murder investigation to close," he said.

  "Yeah." She grimaced. "Me too."

  Chapter Ten

  As Tyler herded Missy to the exit, she peered left and right to take note of all the other male cops working there. Several of them she knew personally because they were close in age to her, but there were a few newbies, younger guys that looked like they'd just graduated. It made her feel old.

  "How many people do you have working here now?" she asked, as Tyler escorted her to the door.

  "Really, Melissa?"

  "I'm going to find out either way. So you might as well tell me."

  She hadn't kept her voice down and immediately regretted it. The desk sergeant turned in her chair to watch them. As much as Missy was angry with Tyler, she still didn't want to get him in trouble at work.

  "File a FOIA request if you want," Tyler said.

  Then he turned on his heel and strode back to his office quickly, shutting the door behind him.

  Missy felt the sergeant's eyes still on her. "A FOIA request?"

  "Freedom of Information Act." The sergeant turned in her chair back to her computer. "That usually takes about six months to get processed."

  Great. Missy didn't have six months. But she did have something else. A reporter in Ellen Stein. Just as she reached the entrance, the door flew open and in breezed Lee Greenberg.

  The attorney had been a year ahead of her and had given Tyler a run for his money as the high school's star athlete. Whereas Tyler was easy-going and down to earth (or at least had been), Lee was flamboyant, gregarious, and very Type A. In high school, the two men had been what would today be called frenemies, alternating between fiercely competitive and also fiercely supportive.

  It didn't hurt Lee's ego that he was a good-looking guy. He had a jaw a male model would die for and warm green eyes. Meeting with him for the first time again last summer, she knew the moment she saw him he'd lost none of his swagger.

  "Missy! Good morning to you." He flashed the smile she'd seen so often in the newspaper and on billboards, the one he used for his ads.

  She looked over her shoulder to ma
ke sure Tyler was still in his office. The desk sergeant watched them closely. Missy pulled the attorney aside and lowered her voice.

  "I told Tyler what I found out last night but he's not letting Noreen go."

  Lee shook his head, showing what she thought was an exaggerated amount of outrage. But perhaps he needed to do that: put on a performance.

  "I need to know what you know."

  The cat was out of the bag. She'd already told Tyler, and he didn't seem that motivated to explore the jealous lover angle. Trudy had sworn her to secrecy, but Noreen was more important to her. Missy kept her voice lowered and shared the information with Lee.

  He nodded, taking it all in. "Fear not. This transgression will not go unpunished."

  "Can we meet later?"

  "Yes. But keep this in mind. If you're called as a witness, you'll be forced to testify and share whatever I've told you. So our conversations will be mostly a one-way street. Okay?"

  She nodded. "Just get her out of here."

  "Post haste," he said. “In the meantime, assuming the impossible happens and I can’t get her released, I need you to help also.”

  Missy nodded. “I’m already on it.”

  “All the police exercise at WiredFit, that new place. They do all those compound, heavy movements and extreme circuits.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I’m, uh, dating one of the trainers there.” He winked at her and pressed a card into her hand. She read it quickly: Anastasia Monroe, Personal Trainer, Certified WiredFit Health Professional.

  Missy nodded.

  “Just tell Anastasia you’re a friend of mine. She’ll give you a trial week, no charge.”

  “Okay.” Missy wasn’t so sure about this. She’d been an athlete in high school. But that was in high school. These days, the elliptical sometimes gave her coordination trouble.

  Lee leaned in so close she could smell his overpowering mouthwash. “After the workout they retire to Carney’s Beef and Ale.”

  “Oh God, Carney’s…” Missy immediately put a hand on her stomach. She hadn’t been to Carney’s in years, not since she’d tried their soft shell crabs and had been sick in bed after for two days. She should have listened to her father. It was wise to never get seafood at a steakhouse, and vice versa.

  “It wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on these guys.” Lee squared his shoulders and adjusted his tie. “I’ll try to get you some help, too.”

  “Help?”

  “I think this warrants an independent investigator.”

  A private eye? Missy nodded, miffed at first that Lee thought she needed help, but finally swallowing her pride and agreeing it was a good idea. Noreen’s life was at stake, so she should be grateful for all the help she could get.

  “I’ll talk to you later?”

  “You bet.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Missy got to work a few minutes early, which was a miracle considering how much running around she’d done this morning.

  Her boss, Brett, was outside sweeping the walk in front of the bookstore. Books and Crannies had once been part of a local chain, offering new titles, but once the big stores got a foothold in the area and began consolidating, it became a used bookstore.

  Books and Crannies stayed open through low prices and sheer volume, thus catering to the voracious readers in the community. Many times in the last year, Brett had hinted darkly of a probable closure in the near future. At first, Missy had worried about her job but these days was almost used to the uncertainty. She knew she should probably get a new job, one that was more secure, but there was always so much going on, too many things to do, and truth be told, she loved working in the bookstore. Part of her wanted to ride it out as long as she could.

  She felt bad for the owner, Brett, though. He was early fifties, so at least a decade if not more away from retirement. It was the worst age to find a new job, and given how lean the store was running she doubted he had much cash sitting around to start something else. He likely wouldn’t be able to keep the store going until he was ready to collect Social Security. Despite all this, though, Brett was his usual chipper self, as always wearing his loose sneaks, jeans, t-shirt, and cardigan.

  He went to get the door for her but stopped and did a double-take. “You losing weight, Miss?”

  Oh no.

  Oh no.

  Missy hated when people asked her this question. Because nothing good ever came of it. By dieting you were admitting you were fat. When you told people you were dieting they protested loudly and falsely, claiming you didn’t need to, that you were fine the way you were. At first they cheered you on, but later, when you began your inevitable climb back up the scale, they got a different look in their eyes.

  Acknowledgement. As if all along, they’d been expecting you to fail and just waiting for it.

  “I don’t know.” She smiled. “Maybe.”

  “Well, you look great.”

  “Thanks.”

  Inside, the store was crammed with books as always. But there were no customers. Missy dropped her bag off in the back, kept her phone with her, and then got behind the register. She’d brought her Kindle with her out of habit, though she really didn’t think she could read right now. Her mind was too distracted.

  “I’m sorry to hear about Anne,” Brett said.

  Missy nodded. “Thanks.”

  He shrugged. “She was kind of a you-know-what, but still, you don’t like to see anybody go out like that.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “So.” Brett stood in front of the desk and made an awkward face, like he’d just swallowed something that tasted awful. “Noreen.”

  Missy hadn’t even thought through the repercussions. Noreen was Brett’s only other employee. And starting tomorrow, he was supposed to be on vacation.

  Brett was talking. “…know she’s innocent and Tyler is a good man. I’m sure the truth will out and in a few days, this will all blow over for her. But until then, I’m afraid we have a scheduling conflict.”

  Brett hadn’t taken more than a day off in about…Missy couldn’t even put a number on it. Had he ever taken a vacation since she’d been here? One that wasn’t just a long weekend?

  “I’d cancel if I could, Miss, but you know about my mother…”

  She knew his mother had just been diagnosed with cancer. Fortunately they’d caught it early, but she was seventy-five. Brett had to go see her.

  “I know this is a lot to ask, Missy, but can you work open to close till Monday?”

  She wanted to say yes, but that was four days of working around the clock. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem…

  But Brett had always been good to her, never refusing her time off even when it was unexpected. He gave them both bonuses whenever he could, and almost always whenever they had an especially good month. Looking back now on working at Books and Crannies for all these years, and hearing from her friends some of the horror stories of working for a bad manager, she realized that Brett was a really good boss. The wolves might have been at the door perpetually, but he kept them at bay and never took it out on his staff.

  She’d taken too long to answer, so Brett filled the silence.

  “How about a shortened day? We’re busiest from eleven to two and then again from five to eight. Could you work those—”

  “Yes,” she quickly blurted out, feeling bad for even hesitating. She’d just have to make the time to investigate Anne Baxter’s death when she wasn’t working. Brett had told her she could close up for a few hours in the middle of the day if need be. And if it was really slow, she could always make phone calls to run down leads.

  Ideally she should have asked Brett for the next two days off. Noreen’s life was more important than this job. And Brett probably would have said yes. But she didn’t want to take advantage of his usual generosity.

  “Oh, that’s great. Thank you, Missy. Thank you.” He surprised her with a hug, then grabbed his car keys off the desk. “Now
I’m headed out to lunch. I’ll be back in an hour.”

  ***

  An hour later, Brett wasn’t back and only one person had entered the store. And that person hadn’t even been a customer. It was a little old lady asking for directions.

  Missy had used the hour wisely though. Taking out a pad of paper from the back, she decided to generate her list of suspects. At the top, she wrote ANON COP, and under that she began filling in the names of everybody at the Book Club.

  As she wrote their names, she realized she had basically identified everybody that had a grudge against Anne Baxter, before the woman had even died. She had been trying to cheer Ruby the librarian up, assuring her that a few people didn’t like Anne and that the woman was probably not long for the Book Club. As it turned out, Missy had been right.

  She crossed Noreen’s, Ruby’s, Alison’s, and Gloria’s names off the list. She knew in her heart of hearts, no matter what the preliminary evidence suggested, that Noreen hadn’t killed Anne. Gloria Campbell was Anne’s only close friend in the Book Club. And Missy just couldn’t think of a reason why Ruby Kellogg would kill Anne. The younger woman was a rather timid librarian and had never said a mean thing to anybody as far as Missy knew.

  Alison Breckmyer was relatively new to town and barely knew any of them, let alone Anne Baxter enough to kill her. Alison came from Delaware so Missy doubted there was a past connection to Alison she didn’t know about. If there had been, it would have come up by now in conversation at the Book Club.

  Still, for all Missy knew about the woman, she could have been a sociopath. She didn’t really know her at all. It wasn’t a good idea to be so dismissive of her as a suspect.

  She rewrote Alison’s name under the others. Better to keep her on the list.

  That left three people other than the anonymous cop.

  Ellen Stein.

  Trudy Shaw.

  Kylie Thompson.

  Missy went through one by one in detail.

  Ellen Stein’s long-term fiancé, Marco, had gotten cold feet and called off the wedding. Not more than two weeks later, he was spotted out with Anne Baxter at Carney’s of all places. And pretty soon, Marco and Anne had tied the knot. That marriage had lasted all of two minutes. Nobody knew for sure that Marco had cheated on Ellen with Anne, but anybody with half a brain would have suspected it. Though that was pretty horrible of Anne, it had been many years ago. As a matter of fact, she’d once overheard Ellen and Anne joking about Marco, and Ellen hadn’t felt strongly enough to object to Anne’s participation in the Book Club. Still, though, it was motive so it needed to be checked out.