Who was that? How long had he been standing there? Suddenly, I wished the shop had curtains that I could close like Grandma’s antique shop down the street. I decided to see where the man had gone and quickly made my way to the front of the store, leaping over boxes as I went.
I opened the door and looked toward where he had run off. He hadn’t made it very far. He was waiting to cross the busy street and just before he crossed, he turned around and looked my way. He nervously took off across the street, tripping and nearly falling halfway. I watched him as he safely made it to the other side and then ducked into a record store. Strange. I stood there for a little while, waiting to see if he would come out again, but after several minutes, I gave up and went back to work.
I kept busy the rest of the day, hanging up clothes and tagging them. To my surprise, I worked right though lunch. But by the time 2:30 rolled around, I was starving. I decided to head over to the coffee shop a few minutes early and maybe grab a bagel or two before Joe got there. Other than when he kissed me about a month earlier, we had managed to stay just friends, but that didn’t mean I didn’t try to keep my carb obsession from him.
A few minutes later, I was pulling into the coffee shop and I immediately saw two older men walking though the parking lot and up to the building. I recognize those guys, I thought. I watched as they stopped for a moment, the shorter one taking a minute to yell something at a couple of young guys walking past them. “And pull up your pants!” I heard him yell after them. Even from my distance, I could see the taller man’s face go red in embarrassment.
Suddenly, the sound of screeching tires filled the parking lot. Before I even had a chance to glance around to see where it was coming from, a white car sped through the lot right toward the two old guys. I screamed “watch out!” from the car, even though there was no way they could hear me. To my surprise, the old men were quick and agile. They managed to narrowly escape the oncoming car by leaping between two parked vehicles. The white car turned sharply and avoided hitting the row of parked cars, speeding away just as quickly as it had arrived.
I flew out of my car and to the men who were crouched on the ground between the cars. “Are you okay?” I asked them, out of breath.
“Is he gone?” the tall one asked me.
I glanced around to double-check, then assured him he was. I held out my hand and pulled him up. I reached out to help his friend, but he smacked it away. “I can get up myself,” he grumbled.
I gave them a quick look up and down. “Are you guys okay?”
The taller man was shaking and I put my arm out for him to grab on to. The shorter one started to yell at others who were coming up and asking if they were all right. “There’s nothing to see here. You people just mind your own darn business!”
“They’re just concerned,” I said, sticking up for the people he was shooing away. “You were almost run over!”
“Oh really?” he barked. “I thought Stan and I were just crouched down here playing a quick game of Twister!”
Was it bad to wish someone had been a victim of vehicular homicide?
Before long, a string of police cars were pulling into the parking lot. The taller man still hadn’t let go of my arm so I stood there next to him, reassuring him everything would be okay. Detective Owen Russell got out of his car and made his way over to us. I had a bit of history with Detective Russell. After Grandma Dean’s shop burned down, he asked me out for coffee. My boy-crazy mind thought it was a date, but it turned out to be him just trying to get some info on my Grandmother, who was his number one suspect. It was an innocent mistake, one I promised myself I’d never make again…yet knew I most likely would.
“Nikki,” he said, surprised to see me. “Are you okay?”
“Nothing is wrong with her,” the short, old man snapped. “We’re the ones who were nearly killed. What’s it take to get a statement taken around here? Apparently, boobs and a bad haircut!”
My face went red. I didn’t know who that short man was, but I was about ready to run him over myself.
“Mr. Henson,” Detective Owen said calmly. “Would you like to tell me what happened?”
The old man grumbled something under his breath then answered. “It’s the same as last time! Someone tried to kill me! How many attempts is it going to take before you finally decide to do something about it?”
Detective Owen put his hand out and grabbed the taller man’s elbow. “You okay, Mr. Bennett?”
“Yah, just a little shook up is all. No worse for wear.”
I felt bad for the taller man, Mr. Bennett. He seemed like a nice guy.
I finished giving my statement to Detective Owen just as Joe pulled in. As Joe made his way over, I saw Detective Owen glance at him and make a face. Was that jealousy I saw? Surely not.
Joe rushed to my side. “Nikki, are you all right?”
“Poodles is fine!” snapped the cranky Mr. Henson, who was still standing behind Mr. Bennett and I. “What does it take to get some sympathy over here?”
I rolled my eyes and looked up at Mr. Bennett. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll make sure he’s taken care of,” Detective Owen said, pulling Mr. Bennett toward him a little. “You two go on. I’ll make sure he gets home okay.”
Mr. Bennett finally released my arm and I slowly walked away, feeling guilty for leaving him. I didn’t even know the guy, but I could tell he was kind and I knew the ordeal had really shaken him up.
“What in the heck happened back there?” Joe asked as we walked into the coffee shop. I filled him in while we waited in line.
“The cranky one said it had happened before?”
I nodded as I looked into the display case that housed the baked goods. It all looked good, but I was too upset to eat. Just kidding. I was starving and the adrenaline rush made me feel ravenous. “I’ll take a slice of blueberry pound cake and a bagel with brown sugar cream cheese…and let’s throw in one of those palm tree shortbread cookies,” I said to the man behind the counter.
I didn’t even look over to see if Joe was judging me. My mind was on Mr. Henson and Mr. Bennett and their visit with Grandma Dean earlier. That was why they went to visit the Glock Grannies—because someone was trying to kill the cranky old Mr. Henson and they wanted the Grannies to figure out who was behind it. Well, maybe now that I know what’s going on, and saw an attempted murder firsthand, they’ll let me in, I thought.
“Hey,” I yelled to the man behind the counter as he started to walk away. “Give me one of those raisin biscuits too.” I needed to keep up my strength. Carb loading before reloading…could that be my motto now that I was in the Glock Grannies group? I’d have to come up with something because I was pretty sure I was about to become an important part of their little club. Of course, if I had known just how important, I would’ve loaded up my pastries and left town instead of waltzing into Grandma Dean’s apartment gloating because I had been at the scene of the crime. If I had only known what was in my future.
3
I walked into Grandma Dean’s apartment and found her straightening up the kitchen.
She smiled at me as she wiped down the counter. “How’s the shop coming along?”
“Oh, just fine,” I said nonchalantly.
“Great! You and I can head there in the morning and finish up whatever needs to be done. But for now, I’m going to read the newspaper and relax a bit.”
As she walked out of the kitchen, I noticed she left the newspaper on the corner of the kitchen table.
“Grandma,” I called after her. “You forgot your paper.” I picked it up and held it out to her, but she only laughed.
“I read the news on my phone. Just throw it in the recycling bin.”
I held the thin paper in my hand for a minute before following her into the living room. “If you read it on your phone, then why do you get the paper?”
Grandma sighed like it was obvious. “Because by getting the paper, I’m supporting two local business
es—the newspaper and the recycling company.”
I supposed she was right and sat down in the chair across the room, opening the newspaper to see just what was in the Peace Pointe Chronicle.
Peace Pointe, Florida, was a quiet town filled with restaurants, shops, and old people. As I flipped through the paper, I could see that reflected in its contents—coupons galore, a Health and Fitness section that focused this week on high cholesterol and took up nearly half of the paper, and a robust list of activities in town whose length was only rivaled by the obituary section.
Grandma put her phone next to her on the couch. “It’s so sad to read about the budget cuts. I don’t think people realize how much it’s going to affect them. It has a trickle-down effect that people just don’t think about. People lose their jobs, roads don’t get fixed, school programs get cut, the police department has to cut back…it’s just a bad situation all around.”
I hadn’t read anything about budget cuts so I flipped through the paper again and found a small article mentioning it on page two, right below an article about the benefits of square dancing.
“I can’t believe you haven’t mentioned anything about your excitement this afternoon.” Grandma smirked at me from across the room.
“How do you know about that?”
“I know about everything that happens in this town.” She stood up and winked at me. “Don’t go thinking this changes anything about you being in the meetings. If anything, it just proves this is a dangerous situation and I don’t want you involved.”
She walked in the kitchen to make some tea and I followed her. “Come on!” I protested. “I’m sure I can help in some way.”
Grandma Dean put a kettle on the stove. “This is getting a little too high-profile for us. I’m not sure we’ll even be able to help Artie Henson, especially if he can’t control his anger.”
“So, you’re telling me you’re just going to leave this to the police?”
“I’m saying there’s a good chance we will. Now, what should we have for dinner?”
Grandma Dean opened the refrigerator and her phone rang in the living room. She casually disappeared to retrieve it and when she walked back into the kitchen, she was white as a sheet.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, running to her.
She looked at me as tears filled her eyes. “Artie’s dead.”
It didn’t take long for the Grannies to arrive. I made enough tea for everyone and watched as one by one they trickled in, sniffling and hugging Grandma Dean.
“What happened to him?” Grandma Dean asked the group.
“Artie and Stan were at Pastrami Pete’s. They had just left the police station after they gave their statements.” Greta got choked up and put her hand to her mouth to hold back the sobs that wanted to escape. “Virginia and I were there.”
Virginia reached around and looped Greta’s arm in hers. “We didn’t see it happen, thankfully. The guys passed us on their way to their table and said hello. Since it’s such a beautiful day, they were going to sit outside.”
“I just had my hair done,” Greta cried. “Otherwise, we would’ve sat out there too.”
“All the sudden, we heard this pop-pop noise. Then there was screaming. We rushed to the patio and Artie was on the ground, bleeding from his chest.” Virginia could barely get the words out.
“He died with a pickle in his hand.” Greta sobbed and Virginia pulled her close to comfort her.
Hattie gave a tsk-tsk sound. “No one should die with a pickle in their hand. That’s picnic food, for goodness sakes!”
Virginia continued, “We followed the ambulance to the hospital and we weren’t there long when we found out he didn’t make it. We called you from the hospital.”
It was silent for a minute while everyone took in the news. I suddenly felt guilty for wishing the car had hit him earlier. “I saw him at the coffee shop today. I was there when someone nearly ran over him.”
“We know,” Irene said, pulling out her phone. “He texted us and told us what happened while Detective Owen drove them to the police station. He said ‘Poodles’ was there too so, we all just assumed that was you.”
She handed me her phone and sure enough, there was the text with a picture of a poodle emoji at the end of it. My guilt quickly faded away.
“We’ve got to get this SOB,” Hattie said, pounding the table with her wrinkled fist. “He took out one of our own. Nobody messes with a retiree and gets away with it!”
Grandma Dean cleared her throat loudly and made a quick nod in my direction.
“Oh come on!” I yelled. “Let me stay! I can help!”
“I’m sorry,” Grandma Dean said sympathetically. “We need to discuss this in private.”
I sighed and started toward the living room door that led outside to the pool. That was usually where I was exiled during one of Grandma’s meetings.
“Hold on, honey,” Virginia called from the kitchen.
I came back in and stood by the table while she searched through her purse.
“I have something in here…” She rummaged around and pulled out a little container. “Here, hold out your hand.” I did and she poured out a few green Tic Tacs. “There you go,” she said, smiling. “You can freshen your breath a bit while you’re out there!”
Gee, thanks.
“Oh, I have something too!” Greta reached for her white, leather bag and pulled out a package of Hostess Cupcakes. Now we were talking!
“Wait, wait!” yelled Hattie. “Here, in case you get thirsty!” She handed me a tiny can of prune juice. I secretly shuddered.
Irene searched her bag and gave me a stick of nicotine gum and a horoscope magazine.
“Thanks,” I said halfheartedly, making my way to the back door and out to the pool.
I sat in a lounger and was relieved that Lloyd, the resident ladies’ man, wasn’t anywhere in sight. If he wasn’t going on dates with the women, he was sitting by the pool in his speedo and silk robe. My heart sank when I saw him walk out of his door and head my way.
“Hello there, gorgeous!” He took a seat next to me and eyed my granny gifts. “You going to chew that?” he said, pointing to the gum.
I handed it to him. “I didn’t know you were a smoker.”
He popped the gum into his mouth. “I’m not. But I accidentally got hooked on the stuff a few years ago.”
I laughed. “How did you get hooked on nicotine gum?”
He leaned back in his lounger and opened his silk robe to the sun. I grimaced and turned away.
“Irene used to smoke and always wanted a cigarette after sex. But then when she quit and went to the gum, she’d pop a piece and offer me one.”
“So, you took it?!”
“Of course. I wasn’t going to look weak in front of my lady!”
I just shook my head. To each his own, I guessed.
“Good times,” he said, smacking his gum loudly. “Goooood times.”
Thankfully, Grandma Dean opened her door and motioned for me.
“Gotta go, Lloyd,” I said, getting up quickly.
“But…” he stammered as he sat up. “We just started to talk.”
“Sorry,” I said, walking away. Then I turned to him. “Here, you can have this.” I tossed him the prune juice.
“Oh!” he said happily. “It’s the good brand!”
I quickly made my way to Grandma, who was still standing in the doorway. “Your meeting over all ready?”
“I just wanted you to know that we’re stepping out for a little while. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so you’ll have to have dinner on your own.”
I peered around her. The Grannies were all waiting for her at the front door.
As I watched her walk away, a pinch of worry gripped my stomach. I didn’t know exactly what she was up to, but I knew it probably wasn’t good…or safe.
4
Grandma Dean didn’t get home until around midnight. I had been worried sick about her and when she came in
, I was like a mother angry with her daughter for missing curfew. “Where were you? I’ve been worried sick, pacing these floors and wondering what could’ve happened to you! The least you could’ve done was answered one of my texts!”
“Sorry,” she said, throwing her purse on the counter and walking to the sink to pour herself a glass of water. She opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of painkillers. I had been living there two months and I had never seen her take any kind of medication.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She swallowed two pills. “I’m fine. Just a little out of practice for the kind of snooping around we did tonight.”
“Did you find anything?”
“Nothing.” She sighed and sunk down at the kitchen table. “Virginia and Greta are still out looking. They can’t let this thing go. They’re pretty shook up about it.”
Grandma stood up and rubbed her face. She looked exhausted. “I’m heading to bed. The funeral is on Thursday if you want to go.”
The next morning, we were up early and headed to our shop downtown. We were both feeling a little glum, but our spirits lifted as soon as we walked in the store. The bright white and pink interior filled us both with happiness and soon we were working, getting our store ready for the grand opening in a few days.
After a little while, Grandma disappeared and came back with something in her hand.
“This came for you yesterday,” she said, handing me an envelope. “I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you right away. I completely forgot about it after what happened to Artie.”
“That’s okay,” I said, taking the envelope. I looked down to see who it was from and felt my breath leave my lungs. It was from Bo.
I looked up at Grandma Dean, who was standing there watching me. “If it’s okay with you, I think I’ll read this outside.”
“Of course,” she said with a soothing smile as she moved aside so I could get past her.
Glock Grannies Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 1 - 3 Page 12
