He was looking down at notepad, when he said, “Thanks, Missy. I’m very sorry this happened to your friend. We’ll be in touch if we need to follow-up on anything.”
“Wait.”
He stopped on his way back to the house and looked back at her without saying anything.
The problem was, Missy didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t Grove City. She couldn’t treat PJ like she did Tyler during an investigation. Tyler would let her in a little bit, as far as he could. But PJ wouldn’t reveal anything and was already giving her a cold shoulder.
“I just don’t understand how this happened,” Missy said, the tears coming back. “When you find out, can you…can you let me know?”
He scratched the back of his head. “I’m sorry, Missy, I can’t promise you anything. This is an open investigation.”
“PJ, I understand that…” Missy really didn’t know what to say so she tried pleading. “She was my good friend.”
He smiled sadly. “Sorry, Missy. We’ll release details when we can, if we can.”
Before she could counter (a.k.a. beg), the detective went back inside.
Chapter Five
It was a slow day at Books and Crannies, the used bookshop Missy and her best friend, Noreen, worked at. She’d managed to get through most of a steamy romance novel she’d picked off the shelf on a lark. Missy didn’t normally read romance. Not out of some snobbish attitude but because she preferred thrillers and literary novels. But she found herself really enjoying the story and considering the author’s next book set in the same town with some of the same characters.
“Did that PJ guy ever call you?” Noreen asked, without looking up from her own book. Of late, Noreen had been on a horror/slasher kick. She was wearing her typical work outfit, a t-shirt and jean shorts. They were pretty laid back here. Their boss, Brett, wasn’t picky about work attire, his only rule was that the clothes couldn’t be “slutty” to use his phrase.
Missy couldn’t help but get angry. It had been two days since that horrific night at the Diet Club, and the detective hadn’t called her with any information. He’d politely answered her first two calls, expertly dodged her questions, and told her vaguely that Karen had died of an infection. Missy had tried him again during her lunch break, but he had yet to return her last call. Missy wondered how a woman in her thirties who’d literally just gotten sick and was in relatively good health had died that quickly of an infection. To her shame, Missy had also worried about herself. She’d hugged Karen that night and been standing right next to her during her coughing fits. Without revealing any more details, however, PJ had assured her she had nothing to worry about and if she wanted to be doubly sure, she could see her primary care physician, but that Karen’s infection wasn’t really transmittable from one person to the next.
She’d gotten a series of answers that didn’t really tell her anything, in other words.
“Not yet.”
“What time’s the viewing?” Noreen asked.
“Seven.” Missy wasn’t looking forward to going. She didn’t do well at viewings or funerals. With death in general. The last one she’d attended was her father’s, and that had been more than ten years ago. “The service is tomorrow morning.”
“Need some company?”
Missy smiled. Noreen and Karen hadn’t ever really gelled despite their mutual friend in Missy. Not that they had hated each other, but Missy knew Noreen was only offering to go as her support.
“You are awesome.”
Noreen put her paperback face down on the counter. “So we’ll be square?”
Missy laughed. It was the first time she’d laughed in two days. “Almost.”
Noreen waved her off and went back to her slasher novel. “If you’re not getting anywhere with PJ, why don’t you try Tyler?”
Missy wasn’t following. “Uh, different police departments, Nor.”
“Uh, fellowship, Miss.”
“Huh?”
Noreen looked up from her book. “They’re a band of brothers. I’ll bet they all know each other and trade favors constantly. In small towns like Grove City and Templeton, these guys get each other’s backs.”
Missy sighed. Assuming that was even remotely true, she’d still have to go through Tyler which she was loath to do. Ever since the last murder in Grove City, where Noreen had been wrongfully accused of murdering Anne Baxter, Missy had kept a very polite distance from Tyler. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him. In fact, she really wanted to see him. But that was exactly the point. She was trying to stay away. Tyler was in the midst of possibly reconciling with his wife of over ten years. Missy wanted no part of a love triangle and she didn’t want to be seen as a homewrecker. Though she was pretty sure Tyler still had feelings for her and they could have made a good couple again, what Missy really wanted was to just move on.
“Why don’t you just kiss him?” Noreen asked, as if reading her thoughts. “Kiss him and get it over with.”
“Nor.”
“Who are you talking about?” Brett, their boss, asked, coming out of the back with two arms full of books. He was wearing his usual garb: jeans, colored t-shirt, and cardigan despite the summer heat.
“Who do you think?” Noreen asked.
“Lemme guess…” Brett pretended to think about it.
“Guys, do we really have to dissect my personal life?”
“Tyler Brock?” Brett smirked.
Missy almost threw the romance novel she was reading at him. “The married Tyler Brock.”
Brett frowned. “Married? Maybe on paper. But I thought I heard she went back to Philly.”
“What?” they both said, at the same time, and as loudly as each other.
Brett managed to get all the books onto the front desk without dropping any on the floor. One pile was all historical novels written by Bernard Cornwell, every guy that came into the store’s favorite. The other pile was a mixed set of John D. MacDonald and Robert B. Parker.
“That’s what I heard,” Brett said.
“Hold on.” Noreen put her book down and grew very serious. “How on this Earth did you get a piece of gossip like that before Missy and me?”
Brett shrugged. “I’m not much to look at so I think people tend to forget I’m around. I heard a couple women talking about it last night in here.”
“When did she go back?” Noreen asked.
“Guys,” Missy said. “Let’s just drop it.”
She said the words, but truthfully she wanted to hear what Brett had heard. Had Tyler and his wife finally called it quits for good?
“You know what I know,” Brett said.
Noreen cocked her head to look at Missy. “All the more reason to give him a call.”
“All the more reason not to.” Missy shook her head. “I can’t call him five minutes after he’s broken up with his wife.”
“It hasn’t been five minutes,” Noreen said. “It’s at least been a day if Brett heard it last night.”
Missy rolled her eyes. “That’s not the point. I’d feel like a…vulture. Like I’ve just been waiting for their relationship to die.”
“Haven’t you?” Noreen said, playfully.
This time Missy didn’t hesitate and threw the book at her. It smacked Noreen on the shoulder, bouncing harmlessly off her and settling on the floor.
“Missy!” Brett said. “That’s inventory.”
“I’ll gladly pay you the dollar-fifty,” Missy said. “It was sooooo worth it.”
Noreen was unfazed and laughing so hard her face was turning red. “Miss, you have the perfect excuse to call him—he can get the details on Karen’s…”
Missy watched her carefully. Noreen obviously couldn’t think of the appropriate euphemism.
“You know,” Noreen said, the laughter suddenly drying up.
“Death,” Missy said. She felt the emotions welling up inside, about to overwhelm her.
Without breaking stride, Noreen came over and hugged Missy. Brett started
to come around the desk to join in for a group hug, but Noreen held out a finger.
“Ladies only, Brett.”
Missy was crying but found the moment within a moment hilarious. Brett was almost twenty years older than them but had long made his affection for Noreen well-known. He’d been trying to seize on the opportunity to give Noreen a hug, not Missy.
“One of these days, Noreen. You’ll see the error of your ways.”
***
Noreen knocked off at four. Given how slow it had been, Brett slipped out to grab an early dinner at the pizzeria down the road.
“Can I bring you anything back?” he asked.
Pizza sounded delicious. It was also Missy’s worst food in terms of putting on the pounds. One slice could do serious damage. She’d probably wake up tomorrow morning five pounds heavier. It was five pounds she couldn’t afford. Her black dress, the only appropriate outfit she had for a funeral, was already too tight.
“I’m not asking you to solve an equation,” Brett said, because she was taking too long to answer.
“Do they have salad there?”
“It’s a pizzeria.”
“Guess not, then,” Missy said. “Nothing for me, thanks, Brett.”
He went out, leaving her alone in the store. She spent the next half hour trying to finish the romance novel. It was a good story, she found herself really rooting for the characters to get together by the end, and even though she didn’t have much left to read, she just couldn’t concentrate. Every time the male lead spoke or did something, she found herself picturing Tyler in her mind. From there, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine she was the female lead…
“Stop,” she told herself, purposely putting the book down. “You made up your mind to get over him. So get over him. There’s nothing between you anymore.”
But that little voice in the back of her mind reminded her Tyler might be able to get her more information about Karen’s death. That was really the only reason she was going to call him, wasn’t it? Her childhood friend had died pretty horribly and she just wanted to know why.
Missy tried going back to the book to distract herself, but she couldn’t focus. Finally, she relented.
She had his cell phone saved under the contacts in her phone. But the last time she’d used it, his wife had given her an earful, ordering her instead to contact her husband at the office if she needed to discuss “police business.” In other words, the woman had basically accused her of interfering in their relationship, if not downright cheating. Missy didn’t care for Tyler’s wife, but she had to respect the woman’s wishes. Especially if she didn’t want to look like a homewrecker.
Missy had to go on Brett’s laptop to find the number for the station. She hoped Tyler was working.
A woman’s voice answered. “Grove City Police, how may I help you?”
“Hi, this is Missy DeMeanor. I was trying to get in contact with Ty—Detective Brock, I mean.”
“What is the nature of your call?” the woman asked. Missy could hear her clacking away on her keyboard, no doubt logging this phone call in the computer system.
Missy almost said Personal but wisely thought better of it. But at the same time, she didn’t want to tell this woman exactly why she was calling. If Tyler was going to call in a favor with a cop in Templeton, he’d probably want that information kept private.
“It’s about a recent death,” Missy said. “He told me to contact him at the office if I had any questions.”
It was a total lie. Tyler had never said anything of the sort, and in fact she hadn’t spoken to him in three months.
“I see.” The woman was skeptical. “Please hold.”
Missy heard the click while the woman put her on hold. There was no On Hold elevator music, just silence. Missy was beginning to think this was a mistake. If Tyler’s wife had just left town and Missy was calling in only a couple days later with a suspicious story, it wouldn’t look good for him.
But she’d already gone down this path. It would look even stranger if she hung up now before Tyler could get on or the woman came back. She had to stick it out.
There was a click. “Hello, Melissa.”
Tyler’s rich baritone was short and clipped. There wasn’t much warmth in it tonight. She loved how he called her Melissa, though. It had been one of his things, refusing to call her by her nickname like everybody else. He’d explained that he preferred her full name because she wasn’t a nickname kind of girl, she was special. His words had melted her heart in high school, and all these years later still had a similar effect.
“Tyler, I’m sorry to bother you at the office.”
“It’s okay,” he said quickly, as if trying to speed the conversation up. “What’s going on?”
She wanted to ask about his wife, but knew that was the one thing she couldn’t ask about. “I’m guessing you heard about Karen…” Missy couldn’t bring herself to say dying or passing away. She just couldn’t.
His voice grew a little softer. “I was real sorry to hear about that. How are you holding up?”
Missy was almost in tears again. “Okay.”
“I never knew her that well, but she was a nice person. She must have been if you two were close.”
Missy beamed at the compliment. “Thanks. It was awful finding her in the bathroom.”
Tyler said nothing. He was back to being the chief detective, as opposed to her high school sweetheart.
Missy went on. “The detective in Templeton, Paul Johnson, maybe you know him?”
“PJ? Sure do.”
Missy breathed a sigh of relief. At least they knew each other. Now for the hard part. “He told me that Karen died of an infection.”
She let that hang for a moment to see how he’d react.
Tyler let the silence stretch. “Is that so?”
Missy had been hoping for a little more interest on his part. “Yes, but that’s all he’s telling me. Just that she died of an infection.”
“Uh-huh.”
Missy waited again for Tyler to jump in and offer to help. But he didn’t.
Missy sighed. “I guess why I’m calling is…”
“You want me to pull some strings, call in a favor, and get information out of PJ?”
Missy grimaced. When he put it that way, it sounded like she was asking him to do something inappropriate. Which she kind of was.
“Forget it,” Missy said. “I shouldn’t have even called.”
Tyler said nothing. At least he didn’t hang up.
Missy felt the tears spilling down her cheeks but she managed to talk through them. “Karen was a really good friend. My best friend after Noreen. I just want to understand what happened. She told me that night she hadn’t been sick, but then she was coughing and later she told me she’d had diarrhea for a week…”
Missy was rambling, unsure what to say and now audibly crying.
Finally, Tyler spoke. “Missy, I’m sorry to hear about your friend. But there’s really nothing I can do to help you here. I can’t interfere in that investigation.”
“There is no investigation,” Missy said. “She’s dead of an infection.”
“The case belongs to PJ and Templeton. I’m sorry. Now was there anything else?”
Why are you being so cold? she wanted to ask, but didn’t.
“I understand,” Missy said. “Goodbye, Tyler.”
She hated how the last phrase had sounded so final, like they would never talk again. But maybe that was a good thing. She wanted to move on. She needed to move on.
***
Missy got home at six, fed her dog Cody, took a quick body shower, and changed into the black dress. It was really too tight, and Missy realized she’d tried it on in the morning, when like every other human being she was at her most slender. It was quite a feat of acrobatics to get into the dress. She couldn’t get the zipper all the way up in the back and when Noreen showed up at her door, she asked her friend to help with the last few inches. Noreen was wearing a black
dress also that stopped a few inches above her knees. As always, she looked devastatingly hot.
Missy’s dress had spaghetti straps, so she wrapped a black shawl around her shoulders. Despite the heat, she didn’t want to show up at a viewing with her ta-tas in full, plain view. She said goodbye to Cody and gave the dog a couple doggy biscuits, her way of compensation for being out of the house all day and leaving Cody alone.
Then they were on the road in Missy’s old truck, the one she’d inherited from her father.
“Missy,” Noreen said. “There’s dog hair all over this seat. My dress is going to look awful.”
“No one will notice.”
“Every guy in the parlor will notice because it will be all over my butt.”
“Wow, modest much?”
Noreen shook her head. “I don’t have any boobs, so they’ve got nothing else to look at.”
Both women were laughing.
Noreen said, “You’re lucky. It must be cool to have a guy check out your boobs. I wouldn’t know what that was like.”
Missy groaned. “Oh yeah, it’s real cool when you’re talking to a man and he can’t keep his eyes on your face. Really cool.”
“First world problems,” Noreen said.
They were both laughing and Noreen cranked the radio that somehow miraculously still worked. They sang along to some Top 40.
The funeral parlor was over in Templeton so it took them almost thirty minutes to get there. The parking lot was filled to the brim and the nearest spot was about a million miles away. The funeral parlor was a converted two story house, and she figured the director probably lived on the second floor.
Missy and Noreen headed inside. As Missy walked up the front steps she came face to face with Connie on the porch under the awning. The tall, blonde woman wore a floral dress and looked really pretty. She was working on a cigarette and almost smiled when she saw Missy.
“Hi, Connie.” Missy stopped a few feet short. She didn’t really want to talk to the woman, but it was a funeral after all. And judging by Connie’s wet cheeks, she’d been crying a few minutes ago. She hurt, just like Missy hurt. The right thing to do would be to commiserate. Missy took a deep breath, reminding herself that Connie had been friends with Karen as well. “This is my friend Noreen.”
Diet Club Death: Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mystery #3 (Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mysteries) Page 4
