Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mysteries Boxset

by Brianna Bates

  “Are you sure?”

  “Go ahead.”

  She thanked him and walked Cody to the car. With an extra hour on her hands, she thought about what to do. Idly she thought about Vinnie. At first she wondered where he was on the investigation, but after a few moments she was just thinking about him.

  Was there something there? It sure seemed like it. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be weird to date a cop, especially when that cop was so much younger than her and reported in to her old flame.

  Or maybe it wasn’t weird. Maybe she was just looking for an excuse not to put herself out there. If she was brutally honest with herself, the thought of dating both excited and terrified her in equal measure. She realized she’d reached a point where she was no longer a young woman and was desperately out of touch with the dating scene. Not to mention she needed to lose more than a few pounds…

  Missy sighed. Round and round she went in her mind but didn’t get anywhere. Maybe she needed to focus on the investigation and help the police. It would give her a reason to be around Vinnie without being very forward. That way, she could just see if something developed naturally. If it did, then she’d just go with it.

  But where to begin?

  She figured the best place was with Sharon, Olivia’s best friend. Missy had her number stored in her phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Sharon? It’s Missy DeMeanor.” No matter how many times she said her name, she always cringed at the bad pun. One of these days she would figure out the perfect revenge against her mother for giving her the name and consequently the nickname.

  “Oh.” Sharon’s voice dipped low. “How are you doing?”

  “Not good,” Missy said. “I’m sure you aren’t either.”

  “No.” And like that, Sharon started bawling her eyes out.

  Missy waited patiently. It was a sure bet that Sharon would spend the next few days like this, alternating between moody silences and hysterical crying.

  Sharon pulled herself together enough to speak again. “Sorry, Miss.”

  “Don’t be,” Missy said. “I understand.”

  “So what did you want to talk about? I mean, aside from the obvious.”

  Missy didn’t want to do this over the phone. She’d realized during her previous investigations that it was just as important to read somebody’s body language as it was to listen to their answers.

  “How about I come over?”

  “Oh…” Sharon hesitated, like she was trying to come up with an excuse. “You know what? The house is a mess. How about we go out?”

  “Sure,” Missy said. It didn’t matter to her where she talked to Sharon. “Where would you like to go?”

  “Oh…I’m having a real hard time making decisions and I can’t even bother with getting dressed up.”

  Missy knew where this was going.

  Sharon said, “How about Hank’s?”

  ***

  Missy called her mother first to make sure she could drop Cody off and keep the car for a few more hours. Of course Mom said it was alright.

  Mom’s house was fortunately on the way to Hank’s, so she swung by there before meeting up with Sharon at the bar.

  Sunday afternoon and again with the football. Only today, it wasn’t college, it was the pros. The yelling and screaming and shouting was twice as loud, even though it looked to be pretty much the same crowd.

  Sharon was sitting in the far corner, at the same booth Missy had shared with Vinnie. As she walked over, she caught herself thinking about the young detective again. The man was in really good shape and she liked his almost playful attitude despite his very serious job. It made her think that no matter what happened, he’d always be upbeat and positive. That was both sexy and comforting, like he could weather any storm.

  Sharon did a little wave and got out of the booth. She had short, dark hair and was petite like Olivia had been. Missy knew they’d been best friends for a long time. In fact, Sharon had come over to Olivia’s house plenty of times when Missy was babysitting so she could watch both of them.

  “Hey, Miss.”

  They hugged and held onto each other for a long time. Missy rubbed Sharon’s back and then they let go and sat down.

  “Good to see you,” Missy said. “Wish it was under better circumstances.”

  “Yeah.”

  They sat down in the booth and Missy noticed that two empty glasses were on the table and Sharon was working on another mixed drink. Missy discreetly checked the time on her phone. She’d only called Sharon thirty minutes ago. Even if Sharon lived close, it would have meant she’d downed two really strong drinks in about twenty minutes. She was not taking this well.

  “I still can’t believe it,” Missy said. “And I know how it feels to lose such a close friend.” She thought back to her childhood friend, Karen Wise, who’d tragically died this summer. Missy had solved, for lack of a better word, that crime too.

  Sharon asked what she meant and Missy filled her in on the details. Sharon listened politely, but Missy could tell her mind was elsewhere, understandably so.

  “That was like Olivia and me,” Sharon said. “We’ve been friends since we were eight years old, so for literally twenty years.”

  Missy nodded sympathetically. The waitress came by and asked what she wanted. Missy didn’t want the empty calories of beer—she was probably going to pay for yesterday’s two drinks followed by a big dinner. But she couldn’t get wine here and she didn’t really like too many mixed drinks. They always gave her a headache, even if she only had one. So she settled on a light beer.

  “I went on her Facebook page last night,” Missy said. “Those pictures of Corey Lake were both really cool and really sad to see.”

  Sharon shook her head. “I can’t believe she posted them, to be honest. Yeah, we’re all adults now but a few of the people in those didn’t want it getting around they’d gone there.”

  Missy frowned at Sharon’s reaction, which seemed a bit harsh considering Olivia had died yesterday. But she swallowed her words. This was probably part of Sharon’s grieving process, getting angry at inconsequential things.

  “I spent some time there myself in high school.” Missy smiled. “I’m assuming that was your clique?”

  Sharon lowered her eyes and sipped her mixed drink. Missy got the distinct impression Sharon didn’t want to talk about the past. Maybe it was too painful to think about such happy times when her friend was dead and soon to be buried.

  Finally Sharon looked up. “Yeah. A few of them are in this bar right now, actually.”

  Missy nodded and casually glanced around. There were so many people crammed in here she could barely see. But she spotted a few people she recognized from the pictures.

  Missy nursed her beer while Sharon downed her mixed drink. Before she was even finished, she was signaling the waitress for another. Missy hoped the woman didn’t plan on driving. She was already in no condition. Her body wobbled while she was just sitting.

  Sharon had made it clear she didn’t want to talk about the past, so Missy decided to come at things head-on.

  “Who do you think did this?”

  Sharon sat up and managed to steady her eyes. “Why are you asking?”

  Missy smiled. “Haven’t you heard? This is what I do when there’s a murder around here.”

  Missy had said it half-jokingly, but Sharon took her seriously. The waitress brought Sharon another mixed drink and Sharon didn’t even let her put the glass down. She took it right out of the woman’s hand and started drinking.

  Missy couldn’t help herself. At this rate, she’d have to hold Sharon’s hair out of the way in the bathroom so the other woman didn’t get any puke in it.

  “Do you think you should slow down, maybe?”

  Sharon gave her a sharp look. “You’re not my babysitter anymore, Missy.”

  Missy held out a palm. “Sorry. Old habits die hard.”

  “Yeah.” Sharon took another sip and finally
put the glass down. She’d drank half of it. “Who do I think did this? Do you really want to know?”

  “Yes.”

  Sharon shrugged. “I already told the police so I guess I can tell you. Roger’s ex-girlfriend.”

  Roger was Olivia’s fiancé, or ex-fiance, Missy thought grimly. “What’s her name?”

  “She’s tagged in the pictures,” Sharon said. “Meghan. With an H.”

  Missy hadn’t been paying attention to the names of the people in the pictures.

  Sharon went on. “Meghan and Roger dated throughout high school and the whole way through college. We all thought they would get married, but Roger broke it off. He and Olivia kind of circled each other for a few years, then finally he asked her out and the rest was history.”

  “You think Meghan killed Olivia out of jealousy, or revenge?”

  “She always thought Roger liked her, and looking back I guess she was right. But as far as I know he never cheated on her or anything.”

  Missy nodded, taking all this in. It wasn’t the strongest lead, but at least it gave her somewhere to start.

  “Anybody else you can think of?”

  Sharon finished her fourth mixed drink and had to put both palms flat on the table to steady herself. “No.”

  Missy thought Sharon was holding back on her. “When’s the funeral?”

  “Viewing is tomorrow night, funeral is Tuesday morning.” Sharon hiccupped. “Oh God, I drank those too fast.”

  Missy nodded. “You want me to drive you home?”

  “No need. I’ll take her home. Maybe she’ll finally let me.”

  Missy hadn’t noticed anybody come up to the table, but when she looked to her left, a large, heavyset man she did not recognize but pegged as about Olive and Sharon’s age was standing there. His hair and beard were trimmed short. His red hair was very light, almost orange, unlike Missy’s which was dark red, what she liked to call arterial.

  Sharon wasn’t exactly thrilled to see this man. “Kevin, I’m fine to drive.”

  So far, he hadn’t even looked at Missy. “You are fine. That’s what I’ve been telling you all these years. So why’s a fine girl like you not with a highly-successful, self-employed guy like me?”

  Sharon half-smiled, half-rolled her eyes. Missy got the impression they had done this little dance often. It had been like this between her and Aaron, the EMT. That man had been relentless with his compliments, flirting, and advances. She hoped she’d always been polite when turning him down.

  Kevin finally looked at her. “Sharon, who’s this?”

  Missy frowned. She was sitting right there, so why hadn’t he just asked her?

  “My name’s Missy. And believe it or not, I can actually speak.”

  His face lit up but there was nothing friendly in his eyes. “Oh, that’s right! The infamous Missy DeMeanor, amateur crime-fighter. I’ve heard about you. Why don’t the pigs just put you on the payroll and be done with it?”

  Missy bristled at his use of the word pigs. These days, the police were always shown in such a negative light. While some of them definitely deserved whatever they got from the media, Missy knew with certainty that Tyler Brock and Vinnie Carmine—oh my God, was she already defending him, too?—did not deserve that label.

  Kevin slid into the booth next to Sharon, all the while keeping his eyes on Missy. He nudged Sharon’s shoulder. “Look, I offended Missy with my use of the word pigs. Do you prefer swine?”

  This guy was making it easy not to like him.

  “So how do you know Sharon?” Missy asked.

  “You haven’t heard yet?” Kevin said, incredulous.

  Sharon sighed. “Kevin, I’m really not in the mood for this. Why don’t you just go back to the bar?”

  His head snapped around, his face was filled with anger and hurt. He looked at Sharon like she’d betrayed him.

  Then he seemed to remember Missy was there. He lost that sad expression and put on a sly smile.

  “I’ve been crazy about Sharon forever,” Kevin said. “But she’s always turned me down…well, except for that one time.”

  “Kevin.”

  “When we were late to Corey Lake.”

  Sharon turned to give him a nasty look. She had sobered up in less than a second. “Enough.”

  So they had shared a one-nighter, or something along those lines. Missy was conventional when it came to relationships and sex but she didn’t think one-night stands were anything to be ashamed of. Everybody had urges so she didn’t see the harm in doing that every once in a great while. Not that she ever had.

  Kevin ignored Sharon. “I ran with her and Olivia and that group in high school. You know who I was?”

  He was asking Missy. “No idea.”

  “I was that guy. You know him?”

  Missy shook her head no. This guy was a real jerk and clearly suffered from anger management issues. Olivia had been dead for a day, Sharon was obviously hurting, and he was not being sensitive to that at all.

  Kevin nodded. “I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. You were probably that girl.”

  Missy couldn’t help it. She hardly knew him but she hated this guy. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Everybody in our clique dated each other at one point. Everybody except me. I was always odd man out. Persona non grata. Good enough because my older brother could get us beer and good enough because I knew people who could supply the pot for parties. But never good enough to actually date. You must know what that’s like.”

  Missy felt her face get hot. He was making a crack about her weight, suggesting nobody would date her because she was chubby.

  “Actually, I had a great boyfriend in high school so I have no idea what you mean,” she said.

  “Probably because you put out. That’s what big chicks have to do.”

  “Kevin,” Sharon said feebly.

  Missy wanted to take a swing at him. He was a big guy and probably wouldn’t feel a thing, but that was beside the point. “I’ve only spoken to you for a few minutes, but I have a pretty good idea why nobody wanted to date you. You’re an asshole.”

  “Ouch.” He pretended to be hurt. “Asshole. Really big words, there.”

  “Kevin,” Sharon said again. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I wonder, Sharon. I wonder why I do anything.”

  There was more to this story. Missy could tell a lot had happened between them, but it was none of her business. She wondered why Kevin hadn’t made an appearance in any of the pictures Olivia had posted on Facebook if he was part of the group. The obvious answer was he hadn’t been around that particular night.

  Kevin got up and turned back to Missy. His eyes were red-rimmed and angry, even though he was smiling.

  “I apologize to you for my behavior, Missy DeMeanor. But you see, Olivia and I were good friends too. And I’m just not myself.”

  His apology was less sincere than a politician’s. She just stared him down, willing the man to leave. But he hovered to her dismay.

  “Are you helping the police?” he asked.

  What the heck. “Yes. I’m going to help them catch Olivia’s killer.”

  Without looking at her, he motioned at Sharon. “And what has she been telling you?”

  “That’s between me and her.”

  “Kevin,” Sharon said. “Drop it.”

  “Got any theories? Any suspects?”

  “Plenty of both,” Missy lied, not wanting to share anything with him.

  Kevin clapped mockingly. “Oh, good for you, Missy. Good for you.”

  “Kevin. Get out of here,” Sharon said.

  He continued to ignore Sharon and focused all his negative energy on Missy. “Do you really think you can help the police?”

  He said it so mockingly that his tone got under his skin. As if she was a child playing at being an adult.

  “You do know I’ve solved three other murders, right?” She couldn’t help but brag to get this jerk to shut up.


  “Solved is a bit strong from what I hear.” He winked. “You must have a lot of spare time on your hands to investigate murders. Guess that boyfriend in high school dumped you?”

  “Not too many high school relationships last.” Missy smirked. “But I guess you wouldn’t know that since nobody would date you.”

  She was proud she’d thought of a good comeback to use against him. Usually she thought of something wicked and cool to say after the conversation was already over. Kevin was speechless for a moment, until that reptilian grin reappeared.

  “Not bad. Maybe you’re smarter than you look.” He flicked his hate-filled eyes Sharon’s way. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Kevin, wait a minute.”

  Sharon got out of the booth and put her arm through Kevin’s, which Missy thought was bizarre after their exchange. Then again, everybody grieved differently and maybe this was Kevin’s particular brand of sorrow: lashing out, against strangers and even against his own friends.

  Or maybe this was just Kevin. Missy was suspected it was the latter.

  She sipped her beer again but it had gotten warm. As she lost her taste for it, she started counting calories in her mind and knew tomorrow the scale would be merciless. Shaking her head, Missy surveyed the bar. Of the thirty or so women in there, she was as usual the biggest.

  She sunk her head. Even though she knew it was unhealthy to compare herself to other women, it was a long-standing habit she found difficult to break. She also found it hard not to look at the other women with envy. They were all in here drinking, many if not all were here for the games so they were probably eating deep-fried, beer-battered, greasy food as well. It must have been nice not to constantly worry about your weight. Like Noreen. Her friend could eat whatever she wanted and drank like a fish when she went out and exercised kind of when she felt like it, but she maintained a very slight figure.

  Genetics. All the doctors and all the nurses and all the specialists and all the articles she read said genetics was the most important thing.

  Which was cold comfort in her case, because both her parents had been average weight. And the older she got, Mom was growing more and more skeletal. Only one of her grandparents had been noticeably overweight, so the best excuse Missy could come up with was some recessive gene that had passed everybody else by and landed on her.