Glock Grannies Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 1 - 3

by Shannon VanBergen

“I’m not sure,” Virginia said, glancing out the large front windows. “Maybe I can distract her, and you can talk to her grandson.”

  “This is so exciting,” Annalise said, clapping her hands. “I can’t believe I get to be a part of the investigation. “

  “Someone just pulled up,” Virginia said. “Let’s keep this low key!”

  “Got it!” Annalise said, suddenly serious.

  The door jingled and in walked an older lady and an older guy. We looked at Annalise. Was this the right lady? Because if it was, that definitely wasn’t her grandson. Annalise smiled stiffly.

  “Hello, Miss Nora! You’re back...and I see you brought help.”

  The old lady smiled. “Yeah, was gonna grab my grandson, but he was busy with his friends. My brother came to my rescue, though.”

  Annalise had the woman sign a paper then stepped over to talk to us while the dresser was hauled out.

  “I’m so sorry, guys!” she said as she ran up to us. “I really thought this might give you a way to talk to someone in the gang. But it looks like it’s a bust.”

  “Not necessarily,” Virginia said. “I think I know her. I’m going to go talk to her.”

  Virginia went outside, and Annalise and I watched her strike up a conversation with the woman.

  “So,” Annalise asked, excited. “Aren’t you going to ask about me and Les?”

  That was the furthest thing from my mind at the moment, but now that she mentioned it, I was curious.

  “Yeah, so how’s that going?”

  “Great!” She beamed. “Nikki, he’s so nice! And he’s a great kisser.”

  Interesting. I didn’t expect that.

  “He wrote me a poem and left it on my windshield this morning along with a rose! How sweet is that?”

  “Very sweet,” I admitted.

  “I’ve never had a guy pay so much attention to me. I feel like he really cares about me, you know?”

  Before I could answer, Virginia walked back in with a big smile on her face. “Greta and I used to play Bingo with her on Tuesday nights! I knew she looked familiar! I asked her how her family was doing, and she brought up her grandson, Sean. She said he comes to see her a lot to have lunch and spend the afternoon, but this time, he’s been visiting for a few days.”

  Annalise’s eyes grew large. “Do you think he’s part of the gang?” I could tell she was caught up in the excitement of solving a crime.

  Virginia nodded her head. “I think it’s a real possibility. She didn’t come right out and say it of course, but I got the feeling he was just by the way she talked about him. She did say he has been spending a lot of time at the little tire store a few blocks away from where we live. If I had time right now, I’d stop over there and check it out, but I don’t. Greta is giving her first Hearts Before Parts class this afternoon, and I promised her I’d go with her for support.”

  I cringed. “She’s actually doing that?”

  Virginia laughed. “Yes, and she’s very excited about it. She’s put a lot of thought into it, and her presentation is very…thorough.”

  I cringed again. “She let me read it.”

  “Well, it has given her a way to keep her mind busy lately. And she’s very passionate about it. Plus, it will give me a chance to spend some time with her. I don’t feel like I’ve gotten to see her much lately.”

  Virginia turned to Annalise. “You did great today! Thanks for giving us this tip! One of us will try to stop by the tire shop and talk to him before he leaves town.”

  Annalise smiled proudly. “Glad I could help! I’ll text you if I hear anything else!”

  Virginia dropped me back off at Hello Beautiful, and I felt antsy the rest of the afternoon. Finally, I decided to close the store a little early and head home. As I pulled into the retirement community parking lot, I sighed. I wanted to get this case back on track. I knew at some point one of us would pay him a visit, but I felt like time was ticking. We needed to talk to him now. I decided to be brave and pay him a little visit myself. How bad could he be if he frequently had lunch with his grandma?

  Now I just needed an excuse to go there. I got out of the car to look at Grandma’s tires. Dang. They were in perfect condition. I needed another idea. I could walk there, I supposed. It was just a few blocks away. But it was hot outside and I didn’t feel like walking there in jeans.

  I went inside to look through Grandma’s closet. I didn’t own a pair of shorts, but I was sure she did. I rummaged around and couldn’t find any. I did find a cute skirt. That could work! I slid the hangers around in her closet, looking for a shirt to match. I found a tank top and decided that would have to do. I slipped on the skirt and pulled on the tank top and looked in the mirror. It definitely wasn’t my style, but in a way, I was going undercover, so it was okay to look different. Besides, I thought, looking in the mirror, I think Grandma Dean would approve.

  Since I had decided this was undercover work, I looked through her closet again, this time looking for shoes. Kitty Purry came bouncing in and when she looked at me, she seemed disappointed.

  “You miss Grandma Dean, don’t you?” I asked as I picked her up. “I do too.”

  I sat her on the bed. “Here, you can help me pick out the perfect shoes to go with my outfit. That should cheer you up!”

  I pulled out a pair of wedges and a pair of high heels. “Which one do you like the best?”

  She looked at each one like she was actually thinking it over. Maybe she really did have a knack for this sort of thing. I was secretly hoping she would pick the wedges because I didn’t think I could walk two blocks in heels, so when she nudged the wedges, I let out a sigh of relief. “Wedges it is!” I said, slipping them on. I looked in the mirror again and turned this way and that. “What do you think Kitty Purry?”

  She meowed and I wished I understood her like Grandma did. Did the meow mean I looked good? Or did it mean I needed a little more makeup? I had only put on mascara and lip gloss that morning, and my lip gloss was long gone.

  I sat down at Grandma’s makeup table, and Kitty Purry jumped up there with me. “Okay,” I said slowly. “What would Grandma Dean do?”

  “Moisturizer,” I said, reaching for one of the bottles. “And maybe some foundation.” I applied the two as best I could, then looked through one of the drawers. I pulled out a few eye shadow pallets and set them in front of the cat. “Alrighty, which one should I wear?”

  Kitty Purry looked them over and meowed again. “Hmmm, the brown one?” She meowed. “The gray one?” She meowed again. “The blue one?” Another meow. This cat was hard to read.

  I looked down to see what color my skirt was. Was that black or dark blue? And wait a minute. Was it leather? Hmmm, it was. Black leather. Kind of edgy! I decided to go for the gray eye shadow. Kitty Purry meowed loudly when I picked it up. I got the vibe she disapproved. “Oh, come on, girl! It fits my look!”

  I applied the eye shadow, not really knowing what I was doing. I figured the eyeliner would pull it all together. I grabbed the eyeliner and lined my eyes, messing up several times. This was harder than I thought. Grandma Dean always did my makeup for me when I went on dates. I finished with the eyeliner then put on some mascara. I at least knew how to do that.

  When I was finished, I sat back and took a good look at myself. Was this how it was supposed to look? My eye shadow seemed a bit too dark all of the sudden. And my eyeliner was on pretty thick, much thicker than when Grandma Dean put it on. Maybe I should’ve watched a YouTube video before I tried it on my own.

  I asked the cat what she thought. She took one look and jumped down. I thought I looked pretty darn good. The smoky eye I had attempted might be a bit much for 4:00 in the afternoon, but I was going undercover so I thought it would be okay. I sprayed my hair, which I had decided to leave down because I had no idea what to do with it. I was ready to go!

  I grabbed the keys and looked down. Dang, no pockets. My purse didn’t match my outfit so I went back to Grandma’s closet to fin
d something that would look good with my clothes. I found a little black purse with a chain strap. Perfect!

  As I made my way to the door, I got a sick feeling in my stomach. Was this the right thing to do? Go by myself? I thought about asking the Grannies to go with me. But who was available? Not Greta or Virginia. They were at a school scarring children. I definitely wasn’t calling Hattie since Bo was staying with her. That left Irene or Betty.

  I sent Irene a text asking her what she was doing. She replied seconds later saying she was having coffee with Betty. Well, they were out. I guess it was just me. Or was it?

  In my closet on the top shelf, there was a box of cat things the cats didn’t use anymore. I remembered coming across it one day when I was looking for something for Grandma Dean. I pulled it out and looked through it—a few old toys, Kitty Purry’s first shirt that Grandma kept as a keepsake, a few prescription bottles, and a harness and leash. I had no idea why she had those, but it was exactly what I needed.

  “Catalie Portman,” I called out. “Wanna go for a walk?”

  It turns out she didn’t. I struggled with her for several minutes before I finally got the harness on. Once I clipped on the leash, we were ready to go.

  “Okay, here’s the deal,” I whispered to her as we left the apartment. “You and I are undercover. We’ll pretend we’re just out for a stroll. Hmm, I’ll need a new name and so will you. And we’ll need a back story in case he starts asking questions.

  “I’ll be Bianca,” I said to the cat. “And you can be…” What was a good name for a cat? JK Meowling? No, that didn’t seem right. Bing Clawsby? No, that was a boy’s name. How did Grandma Dean come up with those clever cat names? “We’ll just call you Fluffy. And I’ll be a marketing director and you can be…my cat.”

  This was fun! Dressing up, having a different name, a different life. Maybe after all this was over, I’d stay Bianca—a woman who could apply her own makeup, had a great job, and took walks with her cat. That seemed like a huge improvement over my current life.

  I was feeling pretty good about myself the first block, but as I began the second block I started to sweat. My leather skirt kept riding up and soon, I was constantly pulling it down. My face was sweating and when I reached up to wipe it, I noticed the back of my hand came away with black smudges. Uh-oh. Was my mascara running? Or my eyeliner? Could eyeliner run?

  I was pondering the mysteries of eyeliner when I heard a familiar rumbling. I knew that sound. I turned to look just as Bo pulled up next to me in my truck. He gave me a strange look. “What in the world are you doing?”

  “What? Can’t a girl walk her cat?”

  He looked at me for a moment, and I could see the sadness in his eye. “Nikki, what is going on with you? It’s like you’re not even the same person.”

  I wanted to say, “Well, I’m undercover so I’m not supposed to look like the same person,” but I didn’t. Instead, I just stood there, sweating in Grandma Dean’s leather skirt.

  He shook his head like he was disappointed in me. “I just can’t believe how much you’ve changed.”

  “I’m still the same person,” I said, trying to defend myself. “I’m just trying new things.”

  “Yeah, like firemen.”

  “Everyone should try a fireman at least once in their lives.” As soon as I said the words, my hand flew up to cover my mouth. Why did I say that? Suddenly, I became very aware of how I looked, how I was acting, how I had been thinking. A sick feeling churned in my stomach. I was turning into Hattie.

  Bo’s face twisted and I could see that he was trying to control himself. “Do you know what your problem is, Nikki? You become whoever you hang out with. You don’t even know how to be yourself.”

  I was speechless for a moment. How could I disagree with him when I had just made that fireman comment—something only Hattie would say—as I stood there wearing Grandma Dean’s clothing, and—this was probably the worst thing of all—I had stuck half a sandwich in my little purse before I left the apartment just in case I got hungry. Something all of the Grannies regularly did.

  “You hurt me, Nikki,” Bo said, pulling me out of my thoughts. “But it hurts me even more to see you like this. You’re a mess.”

  He straightened up and gave me one more look before he drove away. I watched him disappear down the road, the slow rumbling of the truck disappearing with him.

  I was stunned. I was hurt. And I felt terrible that I had hurt Bo. I stood there frozen for a minute, not sure what to do next. I felt absolutely ridiculous in my outfit, and I had zero self-confidence left. What was I thinking getting dressed up like this to go interview a gang member? By myself even!

  I stood there on the sidewalk for several minutes, not wanting to walk to the tire store but not wanting to go home either. I heard a car coming toward me from behind, and I turned to see who it was as they went past. But instead of going past me, they stopped.

  “You okay, Nikki?” Detective Owen said after he rolled down the passenger side window.

  “Yes,” I said, trying to muster up some strength. “Why’s that?”

  He laughed again. “Because a call came through about a prostitute being harassed on this street. I was already in the area so I thought I’d check it out myself.”

  Now I was offended.

  “And you thought it was me?”

  “Well,” Owen said with a smile. “The caller said the prostitute was walking a cat and you’re…walking a cat.”

  That was it. I was officially deflated. What was worse than being mistaken for a prostitute?

  Owen must have seen my look of desperation. “Get in,” he said, reaching over and unlatching the car door for me. I didn’t want to, but I knew he’d have the air conditioning on and suddenly I desperately wanted to get out of the heat. I climbed in and put Catalie Portman on my lap before rolling up the window to keep in as much cool air as I could.

  “This little getup of yours doesn’t have anything to do with your guy troubles, does it?” he asked.

  “No,” I said honestly. But I wasn’t about to tell him where I was going. “How did you hear about that anyway?”

  “Joe told me,” he said softly.

  I flung around in my seat to face him. “You talked to Joe? How is he?”

  “He’s pretty hurt. I ran into him this morning at the coffeeshop. He was on his way out of town.”

  “Where’s he going?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

  Owen shrugged. “He just said had to get away for a few days. He didn’t say where.”

  I knew he was going to the beach. Joe had told me several times that when things got rough, he would drive to the ocean and sit for hours watching the waves.

  “I really messed things up,” I said, leaning my head on the seat.

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “You really did.”

  “Thanks for the support,” I mumbled. “And that person that was ‘harassing me’ was Bo. But he wasn’t actually harassing me. We were just talking.”

  “I take it the conversation didn’t go well?”

  I sighed. “No, it didn’t. He told me I take on the character of whoever I’m hanging out with. And I think he’s right. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

  Owen was quiet for a minute. I was sure giving pep talks wasn’t his thing, but when he spoke, he surprised me. “I don’t think you take on their character. I think people just bring out different sides of you. So maybe you just need to be careful who you hang out with.”

  I thought it over, and his words actually made me feel better. “Yeah, maybe that’s it.”

  Owen suddenly looked concerned. “Do you need a tissue or something? Your face is kind of…a mess.”

  I pulled down the mirror and gasped. My mascara had melted from my eyelashes and was smeared under my eyes and even on my cheeks. I took the tissue from him and tried to wipe it away, but it didn’t budge. Oh, now it decided to stay put.

  When Owen saw that the tissue wasn’t doing any goo
d, he rummaged through his console. “All I have are alcohol wipes, but I’m sure you don’t want that anywhere near your eyes.”

  I was desperate. “Give me one.”

  He hesitated but finally handed it over. I pulled off the top of the package and removed the little square. As long as I was careful to not get it in my eyes, I would be fine.

  I swiped it under my right eye and was happy to see it removed the black smears. There was a little more left and I should’ve left it, but I gave it one more swipe and got too close to my eye. “Shoot!” I screamed. “I got it in my eye!” The burning was intense.

  Owen frantically came around to the passenger side and opened my door. He grabbed a water bottle from the floor of his car and had me lean out a little. “Open your eyes,” he said. “I’m going to rinse it out.”

  “How long has that bottle been on the floor?” I yelled, covering my eye. “It’s probably full of germs!”

  “It’s all I have!” he yelled back. “Now hold still!”

  Against my better judgement, I let him pour the water into my eyes. It ran down my face and neck, soaking part of my shirt. After a few seconds, my eye started to feel better.

  Owen stood back and looked at me, wincing. “How does it feel?”

  “Better,” I said, rubbing my eye.

  I looked in the mirror again. My eye was bloodshot, and the mascara smears were back.

  “Why don’t you let me take you home,” Owen said, tossing the empty water bottle back in the car. “You look pretty rough.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I said, wiping my face with another tissue. “Do I really look that bad?”

  Owen laughed. “No offense, but now you look like a prostitute and a drug addict.”

  I glanced in the mirror again. Yep, that was exactly what I looked like thanks to my bloodshot eye.

  “Fine,” I said, swinging my legs back in the car. “Take me home.”

  Owen climbed back into the car and as he started to pull away from the curb, I screamed, “Stop! Stop the car!”

  The car came to a jerking halt. “What’s wrong now?” Owen yelled.

  “Catalie Portman! Where is she?” I frantically searched the car.