by Wendy Byrne
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SHADY SHENANIGANS IN IOWA
an Izzy Lewis Mystery
by
WENDY BYRNE
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Copyright © 2018 by Wendy Byrne
Cover design by Estrella Designs
Gemma Halliday Publishing
http://www.gemmahallidaypublishing.com
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
To my younger sister, Brenda Trotto, who always has an idea to share, an outrageous tale to tell, loves to give me tips, has an unwavering belief that Izzy Lewis Mysteries will make it to the Hallmark Channel (probably because I promised I’d take her with me to see it being filmed), makes me laugh and is the best cheerleader an author could possibly have. Thanks for all your love and support.
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CHAPTER ONE
Sun peeked through the blinds of my downtown Inez loft as I listened to birds chirping through the open window. If I'd been brave enough nine months ago to open the window of my residence at the time, a Manhattan Upper East Side townhome, the noises would not have been quite so pleasant. No doubt there'd be a cacophony of taxi and car drivers laying on their horns in frustration, sirens blaring up and down the streets, and of course, inventive profanity in several different languages. Luckily, all that was behind me.
After a messy divorce that left me nearly penniless and kicked out of said townhome, I had few options. When I received a letter from the father I'd never known inviting me to visit him in Inez, Iowa, it seemed serendipitous. At the very least, I'd thought, it might give me a chance to lick my wounds and decide what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.
My first foray into Iowa hadn't ended up like I'd planned. Instead of meeting my long-lost father, I'd tripped over a dead body with my father nowhere to be found. Despite the rocky start, it all worked out. With the help of my new BFFs—the Qs—I ended up solving the mystery of my MIA father as well as who killed the guy in his house.
Some people might consider it odd that a thirty-year-old woman like me would become close friends with four women whose average age was seventy-five. But somehow it happened. Some might think it was because my own grandmother had been cold and distant that I'd gravitated toward grandmotherly types as a replacement. But that was untrue. To be frank, the Qs are far more adventurous and bigger risk takers than I'd ever be. Besides, they're a lot of fun to be around and make me laugh and sometimes grind my teeth as well—most times simultaneously.
Less than a year ago I'd been stuck-up Manhattan socialite Isabella Lewis Fleming, who dressed in expensive designer clothes, always had her hair stylishly coiffed, and had her makeup flawlessly applied. But after adjusting to life in Inez, I'd morphed into Izzy Lewis. Most days I didn't wear makeup, pulled my dark hair into a haphazard ponytail, and wore tennis shoes and yoga pants that tended to be a little short because of my five-foot-seven-inch frame combined with freakishly long legs. But I didn't care. The boring, stuck-up woman who'd obsessed about everything being perfect had blossomed into the go-with-the-flow-woman I'd been destined to be.
Because of my mishap with the dead body, I'd met my boyfriend Gabe. Let's just say it wasn't exactly love at first sight. It was more like distrust as he suspected I was a murderer and wanted me arrested. But after all that got cleared up, the dust had settled, and he became less cranky and more charming, my perspective changed. He'd morphed from a crabby pants ogre when I first encountered him to an intelligent and kind hottie after I got to know him.
At six foot three, with dark hair and eyes and a sexy broody demeanor, he'd make any woman with a pulse take a second look. He kept in shape by running like me and doing various carpentry jobs around town. He'd graduated law school and had been a practicing attorney in California for several years before returning to his hometown of Inez. I still hadn't figured out why he'd made the transition from lawyer to carpenter or why he made frequent trips out of town. Sooner or later I'd get him to reveal his secrets.
Just as I was thinking about going back to sleep instead of getting dressed and going on a run, my phone rang. I glanced at the readout.
Viola was not only one of the Qs but also my boyfriend Gabe's grandmother. I loved her like she was family. As weird as it sounded, I'd felt that connection the night we'd first met when the local sheriff, Nate Crowder, suggested—some might say forced—me into staying at her home for the night after I tripped over the body. He'd used the excuse that he might have more questions, but I suspected it was more about him being worried I might flee the city or more likely the state. As for Viola and me, we usually talked or texted daily. But never this early.
"What's up?" Despite my chipper demeanor, my stomach clenched.
"An abandoned car with blood inside was found about twenty miles out of town. Are you in?" Viola had a pipeline to everything out of the ordinary that happened in close proximity to Inez.
"Absolutely," I responded as I rushed out of bed and grabbed some clothes, putting the phone on speaker while I dressed.
"Let's make it just you and me. We'll draw in the Qs later if necessary."
"What are you not saying?" Something in the tone of her voice raised the hackles at the back of my neck. She was worried. If Viola was worried, I was terrified.
"It's Nate's ex-wife's car. She showed up last night out of the blue, demanding to see Emily. Ten people witnessed a verbal altercation between the two of them at Otis's Bar. Threats were made by both of them."
My already twitchy nerves went into overdrive. This did not sound good.
Nate had grown up in Inez then went to Georgetown for college and ended up working for the FBI. When his wife deserted both him and his newborn daughter Emily, he headed back to Inez and became the town sheriff. They both settled in nicely, with Emily growing into a cute six-year-old itching for a stepmother in the worst way. Right now, she had her sights set on me despite the fact I was dating Nate's BFF Gabe.
"What was she doing in Inez?" My fingers shook as I put the keys into the ignition.
"She calls Nate every so often, wants to see Emily, but then never follows through. This time she showed up in town and caused a scene at Otis's. Nate came to get things under control but lost his cool instead."
I got into my car. I was still grasping at straws and trying to figure out what we were getting ourselves into as I pulled in front of Viola's.
She was waiting for me on the front porch. Even from this distance I could sense the tension in her fidgety movements as she got up from the rocker. She hurried into the car, hugged me, and handed me some coffee in a to-go cup. "We're not going to make any assumptions." Her voice didn't sound all that convincing.
"Nate has never talked about his ex to me, but Ga
be's mentioned a couple of times how she was a piece of work. His words, not mine."
"She had some demons to overcome, mostly due to drugs and alcohol," Viola said.
"It had to be tough with him being a sheriff and her having addiction issues." I shook my head. "What a mess. But I can't imagine Nate losing his cool."
"I agree. Something she said must have really set him off. He doesn't talk about the situation much, even to Gabe. But he's confided in me about the phone calls. He said that most times she's drunk or high. He's got to feel conflicted about the situation, because Nate's a good father and wants to protect Emily. He's probably worried she'll try to insert herself back into Emily's life, only causing more confusion to the girl. Who knows what she threatened him with."
Before I could respond, she held up her hand. "There are police lights up ahead. Maybe we should pull over and see if we can figure out what's going on."
I moved to the shoulder of the road and scrounged around my purse for binoculars. I spotted Nate, who had on his usual stone face, but I also saw Detective Chaz Begay from Winterset and a couple other police officers I hadn't seen before.
"Do you see anything?" Viola asked as she scooted closer and pressed her binoculars against her eyes.
"Not really. At least they're not dragging out a body." I tried to think positive, but if the way Nate was being kept to the perimeter rather than actively involved in the search was any indication, things weren't going well for him. "Maybe she'd lent her car to somebody…you know, because she was too drunk to drive."
"That doesn't explain blood being in the car." Viola bit her thin lips.
I couldn't think of any logical reason either. Finally, I blurted, "We both know Nate didn't do this." Even from this distance I sensed the tension in the group of men who were scouring the area like they were being forced to do something they didn't really want to.
"Of course he didn't." Viola tsked. "But that doesn't mean he won't be number one on the suspect list if something happened to her."
I gulped back the reality of her statement. "Maybe we should wait it out until they leave and then snoop around."
"It looks like they're finishing. I'm sure they'll leave someone to guard the scene until the tow truck arrives for the car. If it's Dwight who stays behind, he won't mind if we snoop around as long as we don't touch anything." Viola smiled for the first time since she'd gotten into my car. "I've known the boy and his family since he was born. He'll bend to my grandmotherly charms."
And she was right. Less than fifteen minutes later, he opened the door so we could peer inside. "Don't touch anything, or I'll lose my job."
"I understand, Dwight. And I thank you kindly. Do they know if it's Jen's blood for sure?" Only Viola could pull off naiveté in order to stymie his cop BS radar.
"We've confirmed her blood type already. But no signs of a struggle, so Nate's got that going for him." Dwight sighed. "But they're going to be looking at Nate hard and long about this. The spouse is always the number one suspect."
With the go-ahead confirmed, Viola wasted no time peeking inside. As for me, I couldn't decide if I wanted to look or not. In the past when I stumbled across a dead body, it was an accident. This was an intentional glance at a murder scene—make that potential murder scene. I steeled my spine and slowly turned my head with my eyes closed. Next, I drew in a deep breath, popped open my eyes, and looked.
"Holy cow. That's a lot of blood." I gulped and glanced at Viola. Unlike me, she scrutinized the scene with her retired nurse's eyes.
"Not that much, actually. A head wound bleeds a lot, but that doesn't necessarily mean it's serious."
"But where did she go…" I gulped. "Or where did someone take her?"
CHAPTER TWO
I was still shaking when we walked into Viola's house over an hour later. While it was confirmed that it was indeed Jen's car and her blood type, that didn't mean she was dead. But what if she was? The voice inside my head confirmed the inevitability of it. Based on the reactions of the officers covering the scene, they suspected the same thing as well. Dwight only confirmed what we'd both been thinking about Nate being the prime suspect once the body was found.
Having lived through my own contentious divorce, I knew emotions ran high, and I could imagine that would be even worse with a child involved. But I couldn't see Nate escalating an argument into murder. There had to be another explanation.
After what Viola and I had seen, we had no choice but to convene an emergency meeting of the Qs. The group of lively seniors called themselves the Qs because they pretended to be interested in quilting, but that was just a cover for their real passion for solving mysteries.
Although there'd be some debate about this, I considered Viola the leader of the Qs, as she was the most level-headed of the bunch. Alice was the feistiest, usually coming up with one harebrained idea after another. Ramona came in as a close second to Alice in the crazy-idea arena. As a retired schoolteacher, Dolly was more like Viola.
All in all, I figured we wouldn't have to ask twice to get them on board. Since Viola had called them when we were leaving, the gang was sitting on her front porch when we returned. A story like that drew them in like flies. Who was I kidding? Anything remotely mysterious drew them in. When it was considered to be one of their own, they wouldn't be dissuaded.
To my surprise, the ladies looked more somber than their usual cheery selves.
"Poor Nate," Dolly said with a cluck. "It's a shame he has to go through all this."
"I haven't been able to think of anything besides him and that darling Emily," Ramona added.
"Maybe somebody set him up to get even with him," Alice said. "We should look at who he's arrested lately as our list of suspects."
"But how would they know Jen well enough to get her involved in this and implicate Nate?" Viola asked.
"That does seem like a remote possibility," Dolly added.
"Let's run through what we know for now. Nate was angry with Jen, but there's no way he'd harm her. That's a given. We don't know why Jen was here, nor if she had an agenda. I'm just worried about repercussions if a body is found. Cop types like to jump to conclusions." I thought about picking Chaz's brain about the situation, but he seemed to be even more by-the-book than Nate, so I probably wouldn't get too far with that strategy.
"Sounds like a great mystery project for us to delve into," Viola added—not that she had to. The Qs were practically salivating at the idea of having another mystery to solve so close on the heels of our last one. These ladies lived for intrigue.
"If we want to help Nate, we need to be proactive and start with who else would want to do harm to Jen and branch off from there. What do we know about her?" I asked.
"Besides her being a loser, you mean?" Alice asked as she rolled her eyes.
"I heard she grew up in the area, but she and Nate didn't know each other until they both ended up at Georgetown together," Dolly said.
"Anybody know what city?" I asked.
"I think it was a farm near Iowa City, but that doesn't help much," Viola said. "I could check with my friend who might know which farm and more information about her family."
"That's a good place to start. Where did Nate and Jen get married? What's her maiden name?" We needed to start at the bottom and work our way up.
"They got married when he got his job at the FBI," Ramona said. "It wasn't big or anything, just a ceremony as far as I know."
"I think she might have been pregnant at the time but then ended up miscarrying," Alice said. "At least that was the rumor."
"What did she do? Where did she work?"
They glanced at each other. "I don't think we ever knew and never felt a need to ask. I'll ask Gabe, but I'm not sure he knows either," Viola said.
"Do you think we could be covert and ask Nate these questions?" Dolly asked.
Covert and the Qs did not compute, but I didn't want to hurt their feelings. "Nate's pretty private, so he probably wouldn't be happy if he knew
we were snooping around." I figured that might be a gross understatement to top off all understatements in the history of the US, maybe even the world. "We have to conduct this on the down low." I held up my hand. "And that means we have to go way deep underground with our questions. I know you have good sources around here, but they also work in or around Nate, and he will be on high alert for any leaks."
"Harrumph," Alice grumbled. "That's going to put a cramp in our style if we can't use our informants."
"We'll have to develop new ones," Ramona said.
Now I wasn't sure which was scarier. A full-on Qs takeover or them falling back on their usual old-lady network of gossip—either one could lead to boatloads of trouble. This could get more problematic than usual.
I loved these ladies to death and couldn't imagine not having them part of my life, even if they drove me crazy sometimes. They meant well, although they tended to veer off track occasionally. As long as I could keep a rein on them, I didn't think they could get in too much trouble. One could only hope.
"Since there wasn't a body, just blood as far as we know right now, maybe she's hiding out and trying to get Nate in trouble," Viola added. "But that also means she had help in getting away."
"Good idea. Maybe we should talk to Jeremy at Otis's Bar. He might know something that could help us, especially since he was there when Nate and Jen got into the argument. But we have to keep it on the super down low because they've obviously pulled Chaz into the investigation given that we spotted him at Jen's car, and frankly, I do not want to get in his cross hairs again." His bark was definitely worse than his bite, I'd learned. But he took his job very seriously, and poking too much into what was going on would not meet with sunshine and rainbows from Chaz if my past experiences with him were any indication.
