Hardback Homicide: A Shelf Indulgence Cozy Mystery

by S. E. Babin

  They stood in front of the case examining all the goodies when the blonde spoke. "Did you see the news this morning?"

  The dark-haired one shook her head. "No, Charlie was up until four this morning, so I didn't get up until close to 9." She yawned and stretched; her muscular arms taut.

  'They said foul play was suspected in that woman's murder."

  My fork stilled. I leaned a little further in to hear everything being said. I hadn't looked at the newspaper this morning and I was cursing myself.

  "Foul play?" the dark one side, her voice disbelieving. "I wonder how they know that?"

  The blonde lowered her voices. "I heard a rumor those sisters were heiresses, and they'd been fighting over that money for years."

  "Really?" The brunette's brow furrowed. "Marcy and Carrie? My parents knew their mom and dad and they never mentioned anything like that."

  The blonde nodded. "My boyfriend works at their attorney's office. He said Carrie is due in tomorrow to go over the will."

  My eyebrows rose. First of all, her boyfriend should know better than to tell anyone that. I stood up, carefully setting the butter knife on the side of the plate. "Excuse me," I said.

  "Yes?" the blonde said, her tone cool as she looked me up and down, casting aspersions on my outfit I could only guess.

  "I'm interested in that case," I said. "I couldn't believe when I read it in the paper. Such a shame. She was a nice woman. I never knew she was an heiress."

  "Yeah," the blonde snorted. "That's because she never spent any money. Apparently, the younger sister, Carrie, was the one with a penchant for spending. My boyfriend says she got a tiny allowance compared to what her sister did." She shrugged one perfect shoulder. "I'd be mad about it, too. I bet she offed her."

  I blinked. "Excuse me?"

  The woman rolled her eyes. "I mean, you don't think her sister killed her to get her hands on that cash?" She made an unflattering scoffing sound. "I heard that house was full of valuable things. And now she gets to keep them all."

  The brunette frowned at her friend. I wonder if she knew how bloodthirsty she was before this happened.

  "Well, I don't know what happened. It's a tragedy all the way around," I said.

  The blonde snorted. "It ain't a tragedy for whoever's getting all that cash." She turned around when Trudy cleared her throat.

  Trudy's eyes met mine in warning. Right. Don't antagonize the customers. I walked back over to the table and grabbed my stuff. Right before I walked out the door, I raised my hand in farewell.

  Trudy returned the gesture before she turned her attention back to the two women.

  The will reading was soon. I wonder if Hardy knew about it. Just as I was about to reach for the door, it opened and in walked the man himself.

  I touched my throat in surprise. "Oh, hi!"

  The detective nodded to me once, his blue eyes flashing. So, he was still annoyed with me about yesterday. I huffed and was about to walk past him when he leaned down. "Remember what I said." Hardy's gaze pinned me. A thunderous frown formed on my face and I was about to give him a piece of my mind when he stepped away and let the door go.

  I fumbled with my jacket and bag to catch it. "Jerk," I muttered before I stepped into the cool Virginia air.

  * * *

  Harper was on the phone motioning wildly with her hands when I walked back into the store.

  "Oh, yes! Dakota is here! Hold on," she said and waved the phone receiver at me.

  My shoulders slumped. It was probably something about the Harvest Fest coming up. I took the phone and a woman's voice immediately came over the line.

  "Dakota Adair, this is Corky." I knew who it was. Few people had that gravelly voice or steel in their spine.

  "Hello, Auntie," I said, grinning because I knew she hated that name.

  "I'm calling because I heard you were planning the festival again this year." She ignored my use of Auntie, so she needed something. Otherwise I wouldn't have gotten away with it.

  "I am," I said, not offering any other information.

  "I'd like to be a judge in one of the contests."

  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. "Which one?" I knew which one, the sly little devil.

  "The drink category."

  "Aunt Corky, you do know we haven't decided if we were going to allow alcohol yet, right?"

  Her sigh of annoyance was epic. "What kind of contest is it for adults if you don't allow a little libation?" she demanded. "Really, Dakota. I think I'm going to have to speak to your mother about this."

  "I'm thirty-three," I reminded her gently. "I think I'm old enough to decide something like this."

  "Regardless," she huffed. "I'd like to judge."

  "Even without booze?" I asked, surprised.

  "Dakota, I'm embarrassed for you. You act like I'm some kind of a boozehound!" She actually sounded offended. I rolled my eyes. This was the woman who strapped on a flask and wore it like a fashion accessory.

  "I would never, Auntie," I said.

  She scoffed. "Yes or no, honey. I don't have all day."

  A laugh escaped me. "Fine, Corky. You can judge. But if you do anything embarrassing, I'm going to ban you from the festival next year."

  A cackling laugh came over the line. "Now why would I do that? I'd never embarrass my favorite niece, would I?"

  "Don't test me, Corky!" I warned.

  She made a kissy noise over the line. "Ta, darling. I'll see you in a few weeks."

  I disconnected the line and looked over to Harper who was trying not to laugh. "Don't even," I said. "She's a handful."

  "I love Aunt Corky," Harper said. "I hope I'm like her when I get old."

  "Boozy and annoying?" I asked.

  Harper snorted. "Out there and carefree," she corrected.

  "It seems like too much work," I grumped. I shed my jacket and scarf and vowed to buy a heavier sweater when I needed to step outside for just a minute.

  The bell over the door jingled only to reveal Cole standing there, his hair adorably windblown and the tip of his nose red. I sighed in annoyance. He was cute, but I didn't want him in my store.

  "Go away, Cole," I said before I started to walk to the office.

  Harper gasped. "Dakota!"

  Cole held up a hand. "It's okay. I deserved it." He jogged over to me. "I need to talk to you."

  "About what?" I demanded, tilting my face to look up at him. It annoyed me that I had to. His gaze danced with amusement.

  He looked around the shop and dipped his head next to my ear. "The Olds. It's important."

  I chewed on my lip as I studied him. "Fine," I said after a moment. "Come to the back."

  Cole followed behind me and slipped inside the office. I shut the door and gestured for him to sit. His lanky frame sank into the extra chair and I sat in the rolling one. "I have no idea why you're here or why you think I'm interested in this," I said.

  "Please. I know you've been looking into Marcy's death. Let's not kid each other."

  My eyes narrowed. "And how would you know that?"

  His eyebrows wiggled and a grin slowly slid onto his adorably handsome face.

  "You - you were following me?" I asked, outrage filling me.

  "Of course, I was," he said, stretching his hands out in a gesture for peace. "I'm a journalist."

  "You're such a jerk!" I screeched. I was about to stand up, when he held his hand up.

  "Please. I'm serious. Just wait. I found out something you'll be interested to hear."

  Curiosity won out over my anger. "Then tell me."

  "Carrie is the sole heir. There's no one left in the family. She gets everything." Cole adjusted his glasses. "But that's not all. I caught her meeting with the guy in charge of that investment firm. From - ah - what I saw it was more than a professional meeting."

  My eyebrows rose. "The bald guy? Harvey something or other? They're dating?"

  Cole chuckled, an embarrassed flush rising on his skin. "I'd say they're doing
more than that."

  A surprised laugh rang from me and I clapped a hand over my mouth. "Oh my. That can't be professional." I remembered the way he looked at me and a chill ran down my spine. Harvey did not like me there asking questions about those properties.

  "No. I'm not sure what's going on there, but I'm not a hundred percent sure Carrie is the guilty party here."

  "What?" I asked, staring at him like he'd grown a second head. "Why not? Sole heir and hamming it up with the company who wanted to buy Marcy out?"

  He shook his head. "I'm not sure. Just a feeling."

  Cole was a journalist. Those feelings probably paid off for him quite often. I crossed my arms over my chest. "I still think Carrie is involved somehow. In fact, she should be the only suspect." My brow furrowed as I thought about it. "Unless you think the guy could be in on it, too." I gasped. "Or maybe he guilted her into it?"

  Cole sighed. Crossing one ankle over his knee, he leaned forward a little. "We're missing something here," he said. "Do you know how she died?"

  I shook my head. "They won't release that information."

  A frown lit his mouth. "Yeah, they didn't have it in the story either. They're being tight lipped about it. I wonder why."

  I thought about finding Marcy. "I couldn't see anything wrong with her when I found her."

  Cole's brow wrinkled. "No blood? Nothing?"

  I shook my head. "She was a little blue around the mouth, but that's all. There was a weird smell in the house, though. I couldn't place it."

  "Weird how?" Cole's expression was eager, and I remembered who I was talking to.

  A breath escaped me. "That's all I'm going to tell you."

  "Come on! I just gave you some juicy details." Hurt flashed in his eyes, but I held firm. He was still a journalist.

  "Also, stop following me." I stood up and opened the door for him to leave.

  "I can't promise anything," he said as he stood up and walked over to me. Just as he was about to exit, he leaned over close to my ear. "Interesting things seem to happen around you, Dakota Adair." He winked and walked away.

  I sank against the door frame and tried not to watch him walk away.

  It was a losing battle.

  As soon as the door closed, Harper swooned. "He is so cute!" she stage whispered. "How in the world have you not asked him out?"

  I waved a tired hand at her. "Not interested. He's way too nosy for his own good."

  "So what?" Harper said. "That's his job. He's the cutest thing to arrive in this town for years!"

  "Then you go ask him out," I said. I turned back around and shut myself in my office for a little while.

  This thing with Marcy was wearing me out.

  13

  Jeff caught me just as I was about to get into my car.

  "Dakota!" he called.

  I stopped, my hand on the door and turned. Jeff ran toward me, his tie swinging with the motion.

  "I'm so glad I caught you!" he said.

  I was so not in the mood to deal with him today. "If this is about my business, I don't want to hear it, Jeff. I've had a weird day."

  He chuckled and shook his head. "Not today. I promise." He looked around the street to make sure we were alone. "Listen, I have it on good authority that paperwork was done to purchase Marcy's house before she passed away. Without her authorization."

  I straightened, my hand slipping from the door. "By whom?"

  Jeff swallowed hard, his eyes looking at everything. "The investment company. The only way that could have happened is if Marcy signed over Power of Attorney to Carrie."

  I sank against my car. "And then she wound up dead, allowing the sale to go through a lot quicker." Maybe Carrie hadn't done it. Why would she have killed her sister when she was getting what she wanted anyway?

  Jeff nodded. "I don't know what's happening with this, but there's something really off with the timing."

  "You're right." Why in the world was he helping me? "Are you looking for Harper?"

  His jaw clenched. "I'm not an idiot, Dakota. I know you don't like me and I'm not here just to get in good with Harper." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Although a nice word from you would probably go a long way."

  I shook my head and was about to climb into my car when he spoke again. "Look. I don't like this business any more than you do. The last thing I want people to think is I harm people when they don't give me what I want. This is business. I don't want any bad juju rubbing off on me." A rueful smile crossed his face, quick as lightning. "It doesn't mean I'm going to stop badgering you to sell your shop, though. You have prime time real estate here."

  "Goodbye, Jeff," I said as I climbed into my car.

  His face fell. Sympathy flooded me and right before I closed the door I said, "I might put in a good word for you."

  Jeff looked like Christmas came early.

  "Maybe," I said right before the door slammed.

  It didn't deter him. A wide grin split his face as he turned to walk away. He shoved his hands in his pockets, but his step was a little lighter than it had been before.

  What in the world was happening in this town? Jeff being a decent human being? It felt like the world had turned upside down.

  On my way home, thoughts of the Power of Attorney stuck in my mind. The will reading was tomorrow. Maybe I could slide in there and pretend I was a long lost relative?

  No. That's crazy. Carrie would recognize me in a heartbeat. How could I get ears in there? My heart beat faster as I remembered the one person I could always call when I wanted to do something a little offbeat.

  Grandma.

  Granted, this was less offbeat and more illegal, but Gran always shot me straight and gave me advice when I was considering doing something to get myself in trouble. I was a good girl growing up and in college, too, but I was mischievous. More than the average bear.

  I voice called Gran because Virginia was a hands-free cell phone state, something I forgot periodically but was trying to be good about.

  She answered on the second ring.

  "Hello? Dakota, is that you?"

  "Hey Gran," I said, my chest warming at her voice. She lived a couple towns over, and I didn't get to see her as much as I once did.

  "You should come visit me more," she said, her voice kind but admonishing.

  "I know. How about you come to the Harvest Festival this year? I'll come over and pick you up. Aunt Corky is judging a portion of our fall drink contest."

  "Oh, that's a terrible idea!" I knew she was talking about Corky and not coming to town. "She's going to be sloshed in the first twenty minutes!"

  "She pulled the family card. I didn't really have a choice."

  "Maybe you should add an extra judge in and then pull all of her scores out." Grandma laughed long and loud at that. It wasn't a terrible idea.

  "I'll consider that," I said, chuckling about how confused Corky would be. "Listen, Gran, I have an issue I want to talk to you about."

  There was a pause on the line. "Is it illegal?"

  "Maybe?" I wasn't sure if it was or not. Posing as a relative sounded iffy at best, and illegal at worst.

  "Let it rip," she said. I could hear yapping in the background. "Terminator, hush!"

  I stifled a snort. My grandma had what was best called a menagerie of pets, all of them with super weird names. She had Terminator, the yappy Chihuahua. Rocky Balboa, the drooling bulldog. A cat named Fancy Feast, a bird named Twiggy, and a ferret named Mickey Mouse. I hadn't seen her in a few months, so the odds of her having a new animal were pretty high. Gran owned a couple of acres out there and it seemed like there was a network of stray animals out there who whispered Gran's name to each other if the going got tough.

  "If I wanted to go to a will reading, but I wasn't a family member, how would I do that?"

  Gran laughed. "I can only assume you aren't invited either?"

  "Not even a little bit."

  "Wellll," she drawled. "There's no such law that a will has to be read. Do
you know for sure a reading is actually happening?"

  "As far as I know." I still needed to find out where the reading was, but it couldn't be too hard. The towns surrounding this place weren’t all that large and there weren't too many law firms out there.

  "I'd recommend waiting for the will to be filed in the courts. Then it becomes public record. But if you want to know right away, I'd try to convince someone else to get in there for you."

  "I don't have anyone who would do that for me," I said. Disappointment made my shoulders slump.

  "I don't have anything going on this week," Gran said. "Retirement can get pretty boring sometimes."

  I perked up. "You want to do this?"

  "Of course, I do, Dakota girl! When's the last time we've gotten to do anything illegal together?"

  Laughter burbled from me. "High school is the last time I can remember." Gran helped me break into a boy's car and fill it with marbles. He wouldn't stop harassing me and reporting it to the school did no good. When I told Gran what happened, she wanted to do worse - fill it with bubble bath and stick a hose through the sunroof to flood it out. When I mentioned we might have to pay for the value and possibly go to jail, she backtracked. Some. It still wasn't out of the realm of possibility for her. I convinced her to do something dry - something that would be a real pain to get out.

  We settled on marbles and a creepy note that said, "Keep your hands to yourself." He had no idea who it came from because he put his hands on all kinds of girls. Pretty sad.

  Gran and I hid in the bushes after he left a party one night. The look on his face I'd never forget. He was comically outraged and super creeped out when he got the note.

  Two weeks later, he was back to groping girls, so Gran and I had to get a little more creative. She had me contact all the girls he'd been accused of messing with and we gathered them all in one room. Gran paid an actor to dress up as a police officer, and we lured the kid to the house under the guise of a candlelit dinner for two. The kid, Gary, thought he was going to score, but when one of the girls lured him into the living room, he got an intervention with twelve angry teenage girls and a man who was being paid very well to pretend if Gary didn't cut it out, he was going to be serving a long prison sentence with a lot of angry men who didn't like boys who abused girls.