by J. M. Madden
"What?" She pulled back. "Why didn't you say anything?"
He stared at her. "I'll share, but you'll have to keep it a secret." His head disappeared under the blankets.
"Oh! Okay, well it can wait."
MRS. GRUNDY TRUDGED into the teashop the next morning. Abbie and Becka watched silently as she threw her bag on a table and surveyed the front door. "It's tacky," she mumbled and turned to them. "I need something for my nerves. Everyone is out to annoy me today."
"How so?" Abbie asked as she measured an herbal mix into a tea infuser. "Have you considered maybe you should try to be friendlier?"
The old woman glared at her. "Why the hell should I do that? No one appreciates my expertise. They are allowing all this tackiness on storefronts and houses."
"It looked nicer before someone stole our centerpieces and tablecloths," Becka protested. "And we've gotten compliments everyday since we decorated. I think it's a matter of taste." She eyed the woman's multicolored caftan and purple shoes. "Different strokes."
Mrs. Grundy huffed and pointed at a scone. "How old are these?"
Logan Porter walked in carrying a box and Abbie couldn't help seeing him with new eyes after what Fay shared. He wore scrubs and somehow managed to make them sexy. He gave them a crooked grin and both she and Becka inhaled. "Wowza." Becka said under her breath.
"Hello Dr. Porter. How are you?" Abbie smiled.
He bobbed his head up and down. "Great. I brought this for y'all thought you could use it. My grandmother gave me all this pretty china." He lifted the box onto the counter.
In the box were beautiful delicate cups, saucers and teapots. Both she and Becka dove in, oohing and aahing over the contents.
"Let me see," Mrs. Grundy shoved Logan aside and peered in, her eyes scanning the contents. "Why would you give it away? You can sell it next door at the consignment store."
He shrugged. "I thought it would look nice here. Everyone can see it."
"Hmpf," Mrs. Grundy said and shook her head. "People are so stupid." She shuffled out the door without paying.
"I can't believe he refused payment and just wants us to have it." Abbie inspected a teapot with dainty pink and yellow roses. "These are beautiful."
Becka held a cup and saucer that matched. "By the way he eyeballs you, I'd say he's hoping for another chance."
"He is good-looking. But I'm a one man woman." Abbie considered what to think of how easily she and Jimmy had fallen into an easygoing relationship.
They watched people walk by just as it started to drizzle. The rain would bring customers in and they'd yet to discuss the video and what Jimmy had told Abbie. Yes she'd promised not to share, but Becka didn't count. "Jimmy knows who the thief is, but he can't do anything about it. Some stupid thing about probable cause. No one has seen her drag anything away from a scene or into her house."
"Well shit," Becka exclaimed. "What about our video?"
"He said it wasn't admissible."
"But she won't know that. I think it can work."
"It might if used right."
ABBIE DROVE to a side street and got out of her car. She pulled Fugly out and snapped a leash to his collar. The little dog pranced proudly as they made their way down the sidewalk. She lifted her cell phone and scanned the yards until focusing on the one she was interested in.
"I think you're crazy to do this. Jimmy is going to kill you," Becka's face appeared on the screen. "That woman is crazy, she might shoot you."
"She won't."
THE COMMITTEE MET in the conference room at three o'clock sharp. Everyone looked around in expectation waiting for the surprise Abbie had promised.
When Mrs. Grundy, Jimmy and Becka entered, they looked to Abbie with questioning glances.
"I'm glad you've realized this entire fiasco will flop without me," Mrs. Grundy said and plucked a scone from the tray next to the door. "Not sure I can help this late in the game." She shoved a chair away and then sat down.
There was utter silence as everyone stared at Abbie. "All right," she exclaimed brightly. "Lets get this show on the road." She looked to Becka who sat forward and Jimmy who scowled.
"I have a short film to show you before we make a decision about Whisper day." She nodded to Becka who flipped open her laptop and then flicked the lights off. On the screen the front of the teashop appeared. A figure came into view and took the centerpieces off the tables and then the tablecloths and ribbons. Next Fugly appeared as he walked through a familiar gate. The little dog stopped to scratch making the camera jiggle up and down making the viewers dizzy. He trotted around the side of the house where there was a screened in porch. In the porch were a mailbox, Abbie's wreath and doormat along with the rest of the stolen goods, which had not been returned yet.
Gasps sounded followed by the sound of a chair falling. The lights came on and everyone blinked at the sudden brightness. Jimmy held Mrs. Grundy by the door.
"You took everything?" Julie Milton stared bug-eyed at the old woman who pushed at Jimmy.
"It's a set up." She said and glared at Abbie. "You can't prove someone didn't set me up."
"You're wrong," Jimmy told her. "You've been under surveillance. I have enough evidence to arrest you."
The woman paled, her mouth fell open. "Oh." She recovered quickly and glared at the people in the room. "I wanted to prove how wrong you were to not have me on the committee and how easy it is to fail. One person brought you down and now you can't have it. The town is crumpling with fear." She held up a fist as Jimmy escorted her out of the room.
EPILOGUE
The sounds of folk music wafted through the open door of the teashop as a duo sang and played guitars on the stage just in front of the shop. Streamers flew from every light pole in a colorful mixture of purple, yellow and green. There were varying stands selling everything from pottery to jewelry, clothing, quilts and candy. People sat on lawn chairs watching the entertainment or mingled in groups from stand to stand. Children ran in circles around a bubble station while the older ones strolled in pretend nonchalance.
The teashop was crowded, patrons mingling taking a respite from the sun and noise. Abbie and Becka had setup large dispensers of lemon and cucumber water outside. Inside they served iced versions of the different teas along with scone sundaes. Everything was a huge hit.
It was Sunday, the last day of the Whisper festival and everything had gone perfectly. The decorations all returned, every storefront had done an amazing job of using the color scheme to decorate. Although the thief was caught, they'd still hired the Ortega brothers who continued to patrol wearing not only their wrestling masks, but also matching capes, speedos and boots. Much to the delight of children and horror of adults as the Ortega's sported wedgies from time to time.
Jimmy walked in and accepted a cold drink. He guzzled it and then held it out for a refill.
"I can't believe Mrs. Grundy got away with community service," Becka told him. "She deserves hard time."
"Too old, the judge took pity," Jimmy replied.
"Peter is her nephew. He couldn't send her to jail," Abbie said.
"He wanted to. From what I hear, she always pinched his ears. He hates her. But his mama called him and said he couldn't send her to jail."
"She's horrible," Abbie agreed. "Where is she now?"
Jimmy let out a breath. "Manning the lost and found booth."
They all laughed at the poor visitors who had no idea what they faced. The local folks would rather not find the stuff than go to her."
"Better get back out there. It's almost over, just three more hours."
"I'm exhausted," Abbie pronounced. "I'm glad we're closed tomorrow and Tuesday, I plan on doing nothing at all."
Becka nodded. "Me too. I'm binge watching television."
"Good idea," Abbie agreed. "Fugly and I are going to stay in bed and watch television." She'd decided the name fit and he answered to it.
"He's joining us?" Jimmy asked with a frown. "That dog is annoying."
"Nope." The wordsmith walked out.
"He's got it bad for you," Becka said. "I feel a proposal coming."
Her stomach fluttered and she grinned like a goofball. "You think?"
"Yep, I'm sure. I sense these things."
Abbie sighed and looked into the office where the little ugly dog chewed on a rawhide.
It was a good day.
THE END.
DEAD OF NIGHT
A SLOANE MONROE NOVELLA (BOOK 6.5)
By
Cheryl Bradshaw
New York Times & USA Today
Bestselling Author
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any similarity to events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
First edition July 2015
Copyright © 2015 by Cheryl Bradshaw
Cover Design Copyright 2015 © Indie Designz
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form, or by any means whatsoever (electronic, mechanical, etc.) without the prior written permission and consent of the author.
Created with Vellum
The shepherd drives the wolf from the sheep for which the sheep thanks the shepherd as his liberator, while the wolf denounces him for the same act as the destroyer of liberty. Plainly, the sheep and the wolf are not agreed upon a definition of liberty.
- Abraham Lincoln
ONE
Wren Bancroft sat next to her husband Will at the kitchen table on the same wobbly chair she’d sat on week after week for the past four years. It was Sunday, a day which meant yet another humdrum dinner at her mother-in-law’s house. Wren never looked forward to June’s Sunday dinners, but refusing to show up wasn’t an option. She’d tried it once, feigning an illness so she could play hooky and spend a quiet, relaxing Sunday evening at home. And it had been relaxing, until June’s Chrysler 300 lulled to a stop on the driveway in front of Wren’s house and Wren learned an important lesson: never screw with June’s Sunday dinner plans again.
The sound of someone babbling about the “same old, same old” jolted Wren back into the present moment. Her sister-in-law Patty was drumming on and on to her mother about how much she hated her job. June wasn’t paying attention. She was eyeballing Wren as if trying to decide whether she wanted to verbalize whatever it was she was currently thinking. When she didn’t Wren stabbed a piece of barbecued chicken with her fork, glanced at the clock on the wall, and sighed. The time hadn’t changed. At least it didn’t seem like it had. It was still six twenty-five, the same time it was the last time she checked.
Besides herself, Will, her mother-in-law June, and Patty, the quaint dinner party also included Patty’s husband Ben and Will’s younger brother Simon, who, at the age of thirty-one, was the baby of the family and seemed determined to live up to the name. He had no job, no significant other, and still relied on June to do his laundry.
Another two minutes passed, and June’s mouth finally opened. She looked at Wren and said, “I see you dyed your hair.”
It was the first jab of the night. But it wouldn’t be the last. It never was.
Wren smiled and nodded, said nothing.
“It’s just so … well, it’s such a bold color choice,” June continued. “Reminds me of red velvet cake the more I look at it.”
Double jab.
“I like it,” Will said.
“I like it too,” Patty added.
June used her pinkie finger to lift a chunk of Patty’s pink highlights a few inches off Patty’s head and frowned. “Yes, I suppose you would.”
“Oh come on, Mom,” Patty said. “Just because I’m thirty-three doesn’t mean I have to look it. There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun once in a while.”
“There’s also nothing wrong with appreciating what God gave you.”
June scooted her chair back and stood. She walked to the kitchen, retrieved two bottles of red wine, and returned to the table, handing one bottle to Will and the other to Simon. “Speaking of having a bit of fun … I’d like you all to have a drink with me tonight.”
“What’s the occasion?” Will asked. “I can’t remember the last time we all shared a drink together.”
June didn’t respond. She kept her eyes fixed on the bottles, waiting for them to make their way around the table. When one circled back to her, she filled her glass to the brim and hoisted it into the air. “Glasses up, everyone.”
One by one, all the glasses were raised.
“To happiness, love, and moving on with your life,” June said.
Glasses clanked together.
“What do you mean, moving on?” Patty asked. “What haven’t you told us?”
“I’ve decided to sell the house,” June stated. “I’m moving.”
The abrupt remark caught Wren off guard, causing the wine she’d just swallowed to go down the wrong pipe. She fisted a hand and smacked it against her chest, hoping no one would notice. And no one did. All eyes were fixed on June.
“Moving where?” Patty asked.
“Seal Beach.”
“Seal Beach? Where’s—”
“California, dear. Orange County.”
“Why?” Will asked. “What brought this on?”
“I’m getting older. I need a change.”
“But you’ve lived in Wyoming your entire life,” Will said. “Jackson Hole is your home.”
“I’ve found a new home in a gated senior community. Meals are delivered right to my door. Can you believe that? They even have a shuttle to take me around town. I won’t even need a car.”
“But you don’t know anyone there,” Will said. “Seal Beach is at least twelve hours away.”
“Fifteen, actually.”
Will sighed, shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Why are you doing this?”
June gulped down the rest of the wine in her glass and set the glass in front of her. “A few months ago I met someone.”
Audible gasps filled the room.
“What?” Will asked. “Where? How?”
“On the Internet.”
Patty snorted. “You’re kidding, right? You have to be. First you say you’re moving, and now you have a boyfriend too? It’s not funny, Mom.”
“I’m not trying to be funny. I’m trying to be realistic. Your father died two years ago. Do you expect me to spend the rest of my life alone?”
“You’re not alone,” Patty said. “You have us.”
“I don’t have you. I don’t have any of you. You’re never here. Never around.”
“What do you mean? We’re here right now.”
June sighed. “I have flown to California four times in the last five weeks, and not a single one of you noticed. At first I had a good laugh about it. I figured if I gave it a couple of weeks, at least one of you would stop by, give me a call, ask why I wasn’t around. When you didn’t, I realized something. You all have your own lives to lead now. You don’t have time for me anymore.”
Wren leaned back in her chair, bewildered and confused, unsure of what to make of June’s confession.
Was it some kind of ruse for attention?
If it was, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time.
Still, June had never gone this far before.
She wouldn’t move to another state to be with a man she barely knew.
Would she?
“You’re willing to move to another state for a guy we’ve never met?” Will asked.
“I don’t need your permission,” June said. “And he has a name. Sebastian Ayres.”
Simon, who was shaking his head in disbelief, shoved his plate away and stood. “I’m outta here.”
“Wait,” June said. “Don’t be angry with me, Simon. You don’t understand.”
; “Oh, I understand perfectly,” he replied. “You met someone else. It’s you who doesn’t need us anymore.”
“Simon, don’t say such things. You don’t mean it.”
“You know what? Go, Mom. Go to California. Have a good life. And hey, thanks for springing this on us all at once.”
June hung her head. “I’m nothing but a burden to you all. You come here each Sunday out of obligation, not because you want to be here. I’m lonely. I have been ever since your father died. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
June reached out as Simon walked by, wrapping a hand around his arm. “Please, Simon. Please. Just hear me out.”
He shrugged her hand away. “I gotta go. Go be with your … Sebastian.”
…
Two hours later Wren was combing through her purse at home when she noticed her cell phone was missing. Realizing where she’d left it, she grabbed the car keys out of the bowl in the kitchen and walked into the living room, finding Will engrossed in a show on the History Channel.
“I left my cell phone at your mom’s house,” she said. “I’m going back to get it.”
Will ran a hand through his buzzed, caramel-colored hair. “This late? Why don’t you just swing by tomorrow?”
“I have an early morning meeting. I won’t have time. Do you think she’s still awake?”
“She watches Everybody Loves Raymond reruns on Sunday night. She should be.” He reached for his phone on the coffee table. “Want me to call and find out?”
“Nah. I know where she keeps the spare key. If the lights are off, I’ll just slip in and slip out. She won’t even know I was there.”
Wren backed out of the driveway and drove six miles to June’s house. She parked the car and eased out of the driver’s-side door, noticing all the lights in the house were already out. Thinking the stress from dinner caused June to retire earlier than usual, Wren lifted one of the pots in the front yard, running her hand over the coarse, pebbly concrete until she felt the spare key to the house.
Using her fingers to guide the key through the hole, she pushed the key inside and turned the lock. The door opened. Wren stepped inside, pressing her hands against the walls to help guide her to the living room, where her cell phone still rested on top of a magazine on the sofa. She reached down to snatch it, slipping on what felt like thick, sticky liquid puddled on the wood floor beneath her feet. Her derriere connected with the floor first, shooting pulsing waves of pain throughout her body. Thinking June’s cat had tipped over his bowl of milk, she grabbed her cell phone, switched on the flashlight feature. She angled the pale light toward the floor, squinting in disbelief at the scene before her.
