Mrs. Fix It Mysteries (5 Cozy Mystery Books Collection)

by Belle Knudson

  How does one bring that up in conversation? Excuse me, do you still belong to a radical group that wants to overthrow the government?

  Kate set up her painting supplies. Kendall lingered in the doorway.

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Kendall said.

  Kate stirred the paint. “What?”

  “I knew your husband.”

  Kate’s hand stilled. “You knew my husband? When?”

  “Well, for a few years.”

  “How do you know him?”

  “That isn’t important. I knew him. He was a good man.”

  “Did you know him through his work?”

  “Sort of. Look, I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You brought it up. How did you know my husband?”

  “He was involved in a group I’m involved in.”

  “The one camping outside of town? The one your bother belongs to…the man who threatened me?”

  “Bubba threatened you?”

  “Yes. And I know about your group. I know more about you than you think.”

  At that moment, Kate wished she’d told Scott that she was coming here. Kendall got a faraway look in her eyes.

  “You know?”

  “I know.”

  “Meghan knew too much,” Kendall said.

  She looked as if she were no longer grounded in the present. Kate pulled out her phone as Kendall spoke. She sent a text to Scott to come or send someone. Kendall didn’t seem to notice.

  “We cooked up this deal a long time ago.”

  “Deal?” Kate asked.

  She had no idea what Kendall was talking about.

  “Yes. The highway is going to be expanded past Rock Ridge. The land will increase in value, so we bought it up. Then someone got the great idea to build something on a parcel of it.”

  “Jackie York arranged this deal?”

  “Yes, she did. Dudley was involved also.”

  Seems like everyone was. The next name stopped her cold.

  “Greg knew about it. He saw it as a way to raise money for our group,” Kendall said. Her eyes were glazed over as she stared straight ahead.

  “Go on.”

  Kate looked around for a weapon in case Kendall attacked her. This would be the third confession she listened to, and they always seemed to become violent. She had no reason to think Kendall would be any different.

  “We wanted to destabilize local governments, bring about anarchy and confusion. Too many people are following the government like sheep.”

  Kendall took a deep breath and let it out. Kate’s heart rate sped up. Her phone buzzed, but she was afraid to look at it. Hopefully someone was on the way.

  “We did raise the money. But then Greg took off with it.”

  That would explain why he hadn’t emptied their joint bank account. But this was, yet again, something she hadn’t known about Greg. She had a feeling the man’s whole life was a lie—including his marriage to her. She’d been swept off her feet by him, and now she knew it hadn’t really happened in the fairytale way she remembered it.

  She wondered if he married her as part of a plan; if she’d figured into his deceit somehow. She’d been naïve, but she loved him. No longer. The man who had shared her bed had been a stranger to her, and she hadn’t even known it.

  The revelation took a piece out of Kate.

  “Meghan knew too much. She threatened to go to Scott. She had to be silenced.”

  Kendall killed Meghan? Kate searched more deliberately for a weapon.

  “Who killed her?” Kate asked.

  “I did. I didn’t set out to kill her, but I did it. I went to the library that night to talk sense into her. She wouldn’t listen.”

  Kate heard a car pull up next to her truck. An officer came into the house.

  “Mrs. Stuart?”

  Kendall didn’t turn. She just stared at the wall, as if it held all of the answers.

  The officer put handcuffs on her. Scott was in the doorway, and Kate let out her breath.

  “We knew, Kate. We were just coming out to arrest her.”

  The officer took Kendall away. “Let me drive you home. I’ll get someone to get your truck home.”

  He put his arms around her.

  “He was part of the group,” Kate said as Scott led her out the door.

  She climbed into his vehicle. She was still trying to wrap her brain around it all. Kendall had killed Meghan. Kendall had known Greg.

  “I know.”

  “You knew?”

  “I figured I didn’t need to tell you yet. I was waiting.”

  “He took off with their money. That’s why he didn’t need our money.”

  “Yes, Clem told me that.”

  “Was Clem part of killing Meghan?”

  “Not that I know of, Kate,” Scott said.

  He drove her to her house. She climbed out. “I know you have to get back.”

  “Not really. It’s not my jurisdiction. I just went out there because I knew you were there.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Let’s get you inside.”

  “I’m okay, Scott. I’m not fragile.”

  “But I like taking care of you.”

  She relented and let him lead her inside her house. He poured her a glass of wine and sat with her. “Do you have any other revelations about my husband?”

  “Nothing other than what you learned from Kendall.”

  “He wasn’t who I thought he was.”

  She wiped away a tear.

  “I’m sorry, Kate. I wish I could defend him, but I didn’t know him. Just the fact that he left you makes him an asshole in my book.”

  Kate laughed. She couldn’t help it. Scott so rarely cursed. He joined her in her laughter, and she loved how the sound filled her house. Her house had been empty for too long.

  She decided to make an appointment first thing in the morning. It was long overdue. She should have done it months ago, but now she was ready. She’d finally talk to a divorce lawyer.

  “You look to be deep in thought,” Scott said.

  “I am, but it’s all good.”

  “Are you going to be okay when I leave tonight? You know I’ll stay if you want me to.”

  She knew they had sleepovers in their future, but not that night. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be better than fine.”

  “Good. Now, what were you thinking about?”

  She laughed. “I’m keeping it to myself.”

  Yes, she’d call a lawyer, make an overdue appointment, and file for divorce. Now that she was sure in her mind it was the right thing to do, she’d call Jason and Jared and let them know that she was ready to move on.

  ~~~

  DRILLED IN MURDER

  Chapter One

  As Kate pulled her gray truck into the driveway in front of Hazel Millhouse’s home, she drank in a few deep breaths of crisp autumn air. She’d rolled her windows down during the drive over. Days like this were her favorite. The heat of summer burned away with each passing day, and most mornings were cool and refreshing.

  It was mid-September, and she’d just bid her twin sons, Jason and Jared, farewell yesterday. They’d driven home for a weekend visit now that Kate was getting closer with Scott York, the police chief of Rock Ridge. It hadn’t been an easy conversation, explaining to her boys her decision to finally file for divorce from her husband, Greg. But in a lot of ways, the conversation had been harder on Kate than either of her sons. Jason had made it clear to her last month that he truly wanted her to move on and be happy. He liked Scott, thought the white-haired police chief was perfect for his mother, and wanted her to be happy like he was with his new girlfriend. Jared had expressed an identical sentiment. Funny how similar her twins were, right down to their hopes and dreams for their mother. With their support, she’d found an affordable divorce attorney in the yellow pages and scheduled her first appointment, which she’d get to right after she helped Hazel with a crack along her living room wall.

  Kate
rolled her windows up then stepped out of her truck. Her vehicle, which seemed to suck up her extra cash since it had a nasty habit of falling apart—piece by piece—on a daily basis, was finally in peak condition. She hoped it would last, as she eyed its new paint job and the freshly stenciled name across its side, “Mrs. Fit It”. As faulty as the engine tended to be, at least it now looked well maintained from the outside. She’d had the dings and scrapes buffed out, and its gray color now appeared to sparkle silver. Just like me, she thought.

  Her life was shaping up on the outside, too. She’d taken steps to clear her house of her husband Greg, who had disappeared over five years ago. With Scott’s help, she’d discovered the man she thought she married wasn’t at all who Greg really was, and learning what she had, stirred up all kinds of mixed emotions. But she didn’t let her conflicted feelings slow her down. His old office was nearly empty of his hoarded files, books, and piles of paper. And soon she’d be legally free of him, but no less determined to find out where he’d disappeared to and why.

  One step at a time, she reminded herself, as she approached Hazel’s front door.

  Hazel Millhouse was a loyal customer and these days called Kate roughly once a week to swing by and fix a shelf here, paint a room there, tighten up the loose cupboards, or lay in new tiles when they popped off the bathroom floor.

  Kate knocked loudly on the door so she wouldn’t have to do it twice. Hazel was getting up there in age and had recently broken her hip, so Kate was patient when the woman took her time getting to the door.

  “Kate,” she said when she pulled the front door inward. “Right on time as always.”

  “How are you feeling?” Kate asked, as she glanced at Hazel’s walker.

  “Recovering slowly,” said Hazel. She took a few steps back so Kate could come inside with her sheetrock and can of spackle. “I’m still getting used to the new hip, and now that the temperature is dropping my muscles cramp up, making me a little slower than I’d like to be.”

  “You take all the time you need,” said Kate.

  “I’m just glad you’re here to fix the dent in the wall.” Hazel led her through the entryway and into the living room where Kate had discovered Hazel last month when she’d fallen and broken her hip. “That darn dent is a daily reminder of my fall, and I’m eager to put it behind me. I feel old enough as it is, I don’t need to stare at it every time I come into the living room.”

  Kate chuckled at her sense of humor, as she examined the dent. It wasn’t terrible, a three-inch hole in the wall between an end table and a framed photo of Hazel in the prime of her life. However, two long cracks jutted out from the hole. Kate would have to cut a wide square around the crack then lay in the new sheetrock.

  “Can I get you cup of coffee to jump start this project?” Hazel asked. She knew Kate too well, just like the majority of Rock Ridge residents. If Kate was coming to fix something, you better have a fresh pot of coffee. It was the air she breathed.

  “That would be great,” said Kate, as she pulled a drywall knife from her overalls, along with the T-square she’d brought with her, and began cutting into the wall.

  Hazel started off for her kitchen, taking short steps in rhythm with her walker, but Kate didn’t let her get far.

  “I can help myself,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “How do you like your coffee?”

  “With a splash of half and half and two sugars,” said Hazel, as she inched along after her.

  Kate was familiar with most of her customers’ kitchens since at one point or another she’d fixed a cupboard, drawer, or garbage disposal. She pulled two mugs from the cabinet above the sink, doctored Hazel’s mug to her specifications, and then poured a black cup of coffee for herself.

  Hazel took a brief sip after Kate handed her mug to her then smiled and asked, “How do you like Mrs. Briar?”

  Hazel was referring to her old friend Meghan’s replacement. Meghan had been the librarian with whom Kate had grown close. Last month, Meghan had been murdered, and though Kate had worked tirelessly to expose her killer, it hadn’t mended the hole in her heart. If anything, it had made Kate apprehensive about this quaint and crimeless town she’d lived in her entire life. Rock Ridge was proving to be a dangerous place where murders cropped up. And the worst of it was that Kate had stumbled upon each victim.

  “Mrs. Briar is no Meghan,” Kate stated plainly. “But I’m glad the library is up and running again.”

  Hazel narrowed her eyes at Kate, as though she knew Kate was holding back her real opinion. And Kate was. Far from her perky and helpful predecessor, Mrs. Briar was a grumpy woman in her early sixties who acted annoyed by the library patrons and tended to close up early, which made it difficult for Kate to stop by and checkout more books to research her newest endeavor of staging homes for sale.

  Hazel went on. “I heard Mrs. Briar came across some of Meghan’s files, you know, the ones she’d been keeping about the new development over on the east side of town.”

  “Is that so?” Kate asked, as she made her way into the living room to get started putting in the sheetrock. “I didn’t realize Meghan was documenting her discoveries.”

  Kendall Stuart, the new mayor’s wife had killed Meghan because Meghan had discovered some shady dealings regarding the new mayor, Harvy Stuart’s business venture on that area of land. Kendall had meant to keep her quiet, knowing that if Rock Ridge learned about Harvy’s inclination to hire contractors who would keep his project quiet—which in essence violated the town’s protocol—Harvy wouldn’t get voted into office again. Kendall hadn’t meant to kill Meghan, but that was the result, and now Kendall was in prison and Harvy’s position in office was in jeopardy.

  Kate was curious about those files. What did they contain? Would they shed any light on her husband Greg? One of the most puzzling discoveries Kate had made last month was that her husband might have been tied to the Anarchist Freedom Network, a group who planned to occupy the land out east that Dudley’s business deal revolved around. Apparently, Greg had been a treasurer of sorts and held the money, but then disappeared. Whether he had taken off with the cash or had been killed for it was still a mystery. But knowing what she now did about her husband, the former seemed far more likely than the latter.

  “Does Mrs. Briar still have Meghan’s files?” Kate asked once her racing mind had calmed.

  “As far as I know,” said Hazel, who was now seated on her couch and watching Kate muscle the sheetrock up to the wall. “After a fair amount of groveling with Mrs. Briar, she agreed to come by later with a few books for me. Can you believe she told me she wouldn’t bring them over to me at first?”

  Kate could. Mrs. Briar wasn’t very kind.

  “She knew I broke my hip and can’t drive,” Hazel went on with her complaints. “Well, finally, I convinced her. I can ask if she’d bring Meghan’s files.”

  “I doubt she’ll oblige,” said Kate. “But I’ll have to come back to paint your wall once the spackle dries. So if Mrs. Briar does bring the files I could pick them up from you.”

  Hazel pressed her mouth into a determined line. “I’ll get her to.”

  “Great,” said Kate. “I have an appointment, but it shouldn’t take longer than an hour or so. I’ll come back after to paint.”

  Kate worked in silence, laying on spackle in smooth strokes to secure the sheetrock, as Hazel finished her cup of coffee.

  “Mind if I open a window?” Kate asked. “It’ll help the spackle dry faster.”

  “Be my guest,” said Hazel with a shrug.

  There were two windows behind the couch, so Kate unlatched the locks and opened them a good six inches then collected the old bits of wall she’d torn down, placing the scraps into a garbage bag. Then she gathered her tools with the garbage bag and noted the time.

  “Let’s say eleven o’clock,” she told Hazel, while in the back of her mind she determined she might be able to meet Scott for lunch afterwards. They’d gotten into quite a habit of spending the
ir lunch hour together, and after her meeting with the divorce attorney, a little support from Scott would be more than appreciated.

  “See you then.” Hazel smiled and worked her way to her feet, then walked Kate to the door.

  Outside, Kate placed the garbage bag into Hazel’s trash bin. Hazel waved from the doorway then closed it, as Kate climbed into her truck.

  As she drove through Rock Ridge to Walter Miller’s office, Kate grew nervous. This divorce had been a long time coming, but she felt conflicted. Greg had been the love of her life, and their years together had shaped her into the woman she was. She wouldn’t have her precious boys if she’d never met Greg. She wouldn’t have her lovely home or a wealth of memories that warmed her heart if she’d never married him. And yet, he wasn’t the man she thought. He couldn’t be. And where was he now? Why had he disappeared?

  It made her angry just thinking about how he’d run off, and that’s what he had done, right? It had to be. Between the MasterCard statement she’d found cleaning out his office, its mysterious charges for camping equipment that was so at odds with his personality, and the fact that he’d stolen hundreds of thousands of dollars from a shady business venture to buy land out east, Kate had to assume he’d been in the throws of a deadly transaction when he disappeared. Was he a member of the Anarchist Freedom Network? Had they threatened him? Or had he been a part of something much greater, working with the government to thwart the anarchists?

  Kate realized her imagination had run wild and pondering these things would bring her no closer to understanding the truth, so she quieted her racing mind and pulled off of Main Street into a commercial complex where her attorney rented office space on the first floor.

  She’d only spoken with Walter Miller a few times on the phone, but he’d struck her as a real pit bull. Gruff and brash, he’d barked out a list of documents she’d need to bring without a hint of sympathy that embarking on a divorce was a highly sensitive and possibly emotional undertaking. But maybe his attitude would be good for her.

  Kate told herself it would only be a matter of time before she would walk out of his office, get Meghan’s files from Hazel or perhaps Mrs. Briar herself if the librarian felt like being contrary, and soon she’d be seated across from Scott in their favorite lunch spot.