Deadly Neighbors (A River Valley Mystery)

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Drugs.” Mom slapped the table. “It’s always drugs. Just watch any crime drama.”

  “Don’t jump to any conclusions, Marsha,” Bruce said. “There’s a reasonable explanation for all this. We haven’t figured it out yet.”

  “You’re running out of time. Somebody else will die, I just know it.” And I didn’t want it to be me.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I tossed and turned. Grit coated the back of my eyelids. Instead of sleep, visions of my day flicked across my mind like the words of a stuck phonograph. Over and over I saw the burglar, the words of the note, and piles of money. How much was the stolen total anyway? A few hundred here and there, but it all added up, and in today’s economy, who didn’t need cash? But desperate enough to steal? It was hard to imagine anyone I knew stooping to such lengths.

  Lindsey’s voice drifted through the wall as she talked on the phone. I glanced at the clock. Midnight. Ugh! I wrapped the pillow around my head to block her conversation and Cleo’s snores out of my head. How many times had I told her no phone calls after nine o’clock on week nights?

  “Lindsey, enough!”

  I removed the pillow to blessed silence. Thank you, Lord. Mom always told me a sure fire way to get to sleep was to pray for other people. Where did I start? With thanking God no one had been harmed in the day’s robbery. Then I prayed for Melvin and his heartbreak. For Marilyn and Stephanie’s dreams, for Mom and Leroy’s future happiness, for Karen Anderson. Surely the day’s events would help clear her name. For. . .

  “Mom?”

  My eyes popped open from my short slumber to peer through the dark at Lindsey’s wide eyes. “What?”

  “Shhh.” Her gaze darted to the window. “Someone’s outside.”

  I sat up and took another look at the clock. Two a.m. Cleo growled deep in her throat, her paws on the windowsill. Had the thief returned? Flinging off the sheet, I stood, the wood floor cool on my bare feet.

  “Get behind me.” I searched the dark for a weapon. Idiot! I’d left my purse on the kitchen table, along with my Tazer. A quick check of the bedroom phone revealed silence on the other end.

  “Does the phone in your room work?”

  “No. It cut off while I was talking to Billy.”

  “What could you possibly have to talk about this late?” I rolled my eyes. Teenagers.

  “Mom, I’m scared.” Lindsey clutched my arm.

  So was I. But a mother must be brave for her child. I straightened my shoulders. “Stay beside me. We’ll make a run for the big house.”

  “Are you crazy? They might have a gun.” Lindsey’s nails dug into my flesh.

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “We could hide in the closet. If they don’t find anything, they’ll leave.”

  Cleo let out a sharp bark. Lindsey and I screamed. If our visitor didn’t know we were awake before, they did now.

  “Let the dog out. She’ll scare them away.”

  “Or get shot.” I didn’t want that to happen. My furry friend was important to me.

  “Why’d you buy her then?”

  I shrugged. “Protection. I feel safer with her by us.”

  Cleo’s barks increased in intensity, and she clawed at the window. I turned. Eyes shone by the moon’s glow as someone peered in at us. My heart leaped into my throat, and I choked back a shriek. The intruder tapped the window with the barrel of a pistol. Last time, I’d been tangled in the phone cord. Not this time.

  Lindsey’s sobs spurred me to action. I shoved her through the bathroom door. “Lock it!”

  “Mom.”

  “Now.” I grabbed Cleo’s collar in one hand and the base of my crystal lamp with the other. Not much of a shield against a bullet, but the action raised my confidence. “Come, Cleo.” I pulled her from the room and into the kitchen where I traded my ridiculous weapon for the Tazer.

  “Okay, girl. I’m going to open the door, and you rush out. Be ferocious, put the fear of God into that intruder, and don’t get shot, please.” I shoved the door open and flattened myself against the wall to peer through the window. Cleo burst outside, her barks strident in the night.

  Lights flicked on in Mom’s house. Her silhouette showed dark against the glow from her kitchen. “Cleo! Stop that racket.”

  “Mom, call the police!” Please let her hear me. “There’s an intruder.”

  Cleo yelped, then her barks turned to a high pitched yip. She needed me. I bolted through the open door, finger on the trigger of my Tazer. Dew coated my feet as I raced around the corner of the house, my nightgown flapping around my legs. The light from the bathroom where Lindsey hid highlighted a narrow swatch in the yard. Cleo stared into the trees bordering the property; the hair on her neck bristled. Mom joined me. The moon’s rays glinted off the butcher knife in her hand. “What do you plan on doing with that?”

  “Defend myself. Who is it?”

  “I don’t know. They stared through my bedroom window.”

  “Pervert.” Mom raised her knife and clutched the neckline of her robe closer around her throat. “Isn’t the first Peeping Tom we’ve had in this town.”

  “It’s not a Peeping Tom.” I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. “I was sleeping, not getting dressed. I’m pretty sure it was the burglar from The Corner Store. He, or she, wore the same type black nylon jacket. Come on. They’re gone and we shouldn’t be standing out here if they come back.” Snapping my fingers for Cleo to follow, I led Mom back to my humble abode.

  “Whoever that was is playing with me.” I dropped the Tazer back in my purse and grabbed my cell phone.

  “What do you mean?” Mom slumped in a chair.

  “That’s twice they could’ve shot me. Instead, they’re playing some sort of silly game.” I shuddered and punched in Bruce’s private number. It became obvious the thief knew me and knew me well.

  “This better be good.” Bruce grumbled in a sleepy voice.

  “Hello to you too. Someone was here. They cut my phone lines and waved a pistol at me through the window.” I slammed cabinet doors looking for my M&Ms. Surely I didn’t leave them at Mom’s. “I’m pretty sure it’s the same person from earlier today. They didn’t wear the mask. Their face was covered by a one of those ski beanie things.”

  Bruce’s growl rivaled a bear’s. “This can not be happening. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Click.

  “Mom?”

  Lindsey! “You can come out now, sweetheart.”

  Her bare feet slapped the floor boards as she sprinted to my side. “I’ve never been more frightened. We could’ve been killed.” She wrapped her arms around me. “I’ll never take life for granted again.”

  Teenage dramatics. At least they were good for a smile. I patted her back. “Sit down, and I’ll make some hot chocolate while we wait for Bruce.”

  “That man is going to have a coronary.” Mom giggled. “Bet he wished he worked in a different precinct. Are you going to call Duane?”

  “Later. I don’t want to disturb his sleep.” He’d want to camp on my doorstep after tonight’s adventure. Not that I would mind too much, but Mom would have a fit and the ladies at church would have gossip fodder for years.

  Right on time, Bruce barged into the house without bothering to knock. “Which window were they looking in?”

  “My bedroom. West side of the house.”

  “Y’all stay here.” With a hand on the butt of his weapon, Bruce headed back outside.

  Mom, Lindsey, and I sipped hot chocolate and waited for Bruce to return. Ten minutes later, he strutted back in. “Shoe prints outside the window. Looks like a man’s shoe, but the soil is wet and the print not deep. Could be a woman wearing a man’s sneaker.”

  “So, we’re no closer to finding the suspect then we were before.”

  “Not really, but I suggest you and your daughter move back into your mom’s house until this perp is caught.”

  “Do we have to?” I so dearly wanted my own place. Would I ever b
e allowed to grow up and be independent? Maybe I shouldn’t wait for Duane to propose. I could do it myself. After all, it’s the twenty-first century. It wasn’t unheard of.

  “I can’t make you, but I strongly advise you not to stay out here.” He gave us a nod and left the way he’d come.

  “I don’t think this town has had this much excitement since the tornado five years ago.” Mom rose and placed her cup in the sink. “Might as well try to get some sleep. There’s clean sheets on your old beds. Come on. Work comes mighty early.”

  She wasn’t kidding. By the time I finally closed my eyes against visions of the black-robed demon, Mom knocked on the door to let me know it was time to wake up. Could a person call in sick when they were one of the owners?

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Bleary eyed, I sat behind the counter of Gifts from Country Heaven, chin propped in my hand, and watched the world pass outside the window. A group of women, mom included, wearing red hats and purple tee shirts pranced by to their weekly lunch at the diner. Billy yelled out a car window at Lindsey who swept the sidewalk. Normal every day activity that did nothing for my mood. Sleep would help. I sighed. Nothing to do about it. We couldn’t close the store two days in a row.

  Mom left me a mile long list of things to do, most of it sewing. Said it would keep my mind off my troubles. With a deep breath, I grabbed a bolt of cloth and cut off the two yards I would need for throw pillows. Then I grabbed another bolt and cut two more.

  “Hey, Marsha!” Marilyn breezed through the door, thankfully minus dogs. “Just dropped in to say goodbye. In case we don’t run into each other again.”

  “Are you going somewhere?” I paused in cutting.

  “Hollywood! I’ve saved enough money to enable me to live for three months. If I can’t break into showbiz by then, I’ll start over and head to Broadway.” Ruby lips spread across white teeth.

  “I wish you all the luck, Marilyn. I really do.” Despite our having fought over who would be Marilyn Monroe at mom’s party, I wished her nothing but the best. “You could always try being a vintage pinup model. With your figure, that platinum hair, and your lips, you’d be a cinch.”

  “Really?” She put a matching sculptured nail to her mouth. “I hadn’t thought of that. Might be a way to make money if I don’t break into show biz right away.” She winked. “Of course, a sugar daddy wouldn’t help.”

  I grimaced. “There’s always that option, I guess.”

  “Well, bye!” She bounced back out the door.

  The newspaper boy banged the newspaper against the window, startling me from my thoughts. Lindsey snatched the paper from the sidewalk and brought it in. “Guess what’s on the front page!” She slapped it on the counter.

  Wonderful. There I sat with soda in hand on the curb of The Corner Store. The cameraman must have snapped the shot before I stuck my hand over my face.

  “We’re making the paper a lot.” Lindsey grinned. “With me running the car through the diner and you getting held up, we’re like celebrities!”

  “I’d like to be in the paper because we found out who the thief is, not because we did something stupid or almost got killed.”

  “Something is better than nothing. It’s probably good for business.” Lindsey plopped in a rocker. “Melvin drove by with a brand new riding lawnmower. Where do you think he got the money? His was stolen, right?”

  Good question. “Maybe he lowered his principles and took out a loan.” Or maybe he stole it before peeking in my window last night. And what compromises did Marilyn make? Bruce did say it could’ve been a woman wearing men’s shoes. I should’ve looked at her feet. She stood several inches taller than me. It might work. I wondered whether Bruce would be interested in my deductions.

  “I’m heading to the diner to get something to drink.” Lindsey pushed to her feet. “Do you want something?”

  “A diet soda would be great.”

  Stephanie pushed past as Lindsey headed out the door. The woman smiled, without revealing her teeth, and stared at me.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I want to buy that rose-colored quilt.”

  My eyes widened. “It’s three hundred dollars.”

  She smirked. “I know how much it is.” Stephanie leaned on the counter. “I have enough money now to go and fetch Rosalea. I’m leaving this weekend.”

  “Don’t you have to wait for paperwork or something?” I moved to get the quilt then wrapped it in tissue paper.

  “Those papers are being processed as we speak.” She dug in her purse for her checkbook. “And further more, the paperwork on my new daughter has been in the works for a very long time. I just needed the money for the legal side of it.”

  “How old is the girl now? Ten?”

  Stephanie giggled. “You are such a kidder. It didn’t take that long. She’s almost three. Mark is ecstatic. We’re decorating her room this week. That’s why I need the quilt. Nothing but the best for my daughter.”

  I glanced at her feet. “What size shoe do you wear?”

  “A ten, why?”

  “Just wondering.” I smiled up at her. “I’m happy for you, Stephanie. Really. You’ve worked hard to become a mother.”

  “I’d do anything.” She wrote the check, handed it to me and watched while I printed her receipt.

  “Let me know if we can get anything else for you.”

  “Oh, I will.” She wrapped her arms around the quilt and left.

  Huh. All three of my suspects suddenly had the money they needed. Very suspicious to me. I picked up the phone and dialed Bruce’s number.

  “What now?”

  Drat that caller ID. “That’s not a very nice way to answer the phone. Especially at work.” I paced behind the counter. “I’ve been thinking.”

  “Dangerous.”

  “Ever the comedian. I had several names on my suspect list –”

  “I thought I told you to stay out of this investigation.”

  “You can’t stop somebody from writing down names. Anyway, I had Melvin Brown, Kyle Anderson, Marilyn Olsen, Billy Butler, and Stephanie Jackson. Kyle is dead, and Billy isn’t guilty, so that leaves three. And guess which three suddenly have the money they’ve been needing?” Take that, Bruce.

  “Don’t forget Lindsey, and what makes you think Billy isn’t guilty?”

  “Come on! My daughter did nothing wrong, and you know it. You said so yourself. Can you honestly tell me you can imagine that boy holding up a convenience store?”

  “Maybe the crimes aren’t related.”

  Why did he have to be so dense? Of course the crimes were related. I’d bet my life on it. Most likely would. “Okay, fine. Disregard my suspicions. I wish you all the luck on solving the case.”

  “Marsha, look—”

  I hung up on him. Solving the case was left up to me, Marsha Calloway Steele, who had no idea what to do next. The pile of cut fabric beckoned. The back door to the shop opened, and I heard Mom humming as she made a pot of coffee. Always the first thing on her list when she came to work. I needed something to show for the hour I’d been here. Scooting back behind the sewing machine, I pretended to be engrossed in my work.

  My mind whirred as fast as the needle. Melvin, Marilyn, or Stephanie? All wanted something desperately. Money. And lots of it. How much did it cost to live in Hollywood for three months? Adopt a child? Start a landscape business? Quite a bit, I was sure.

  Melvin could have faked his robbery. So could Stephanie. I still couldn’t figure out the store being robbed with Lindsey and me not being the wiser. It would all click eventually. Then I remembered Sharon and her missing necklace.

  There’d been a lapse of time with her too. She knew she’d seen Lindsey, then nothing for how long? Forty-five minutes to an hour? Could whatever have caused her forgetfulness contribute to her death?

  I dialed Bruce again. “Did they do an autopsy on Sharon Weiss?”

  “What?”

  “I need to know if she had anything unu
sual in her system.”

  “She died from hitting her head. Accidental death. End of story. Leave it alone or I’m calling Duane.” Click.

  He wouldn’t dare! Bruce really bugged me. Threatening to call my boyfriend. What a low blow. There’d been tension between me and Bruce since I turned him down for a date in high school. Talk about holding grudges.

  “Mom,” I called out as I grabbed my purse. “I’ve got to run home for a few minutes.”

  “No problem. I left something for you.”

  “Thanks!” I dashed for my car and sped home. After unlocking the door to the former guesthouse, I knelt beside my father’s medical books. Disorientation, forgetfulness, a waking sleep; I’d find something relative inside those pages. If not, I’d check the internet. One way or another, I’d have some answers before I quit for the day.

  “Hey, Marsha.” Duane stood in the doorway. “I’ve got chocolate chip cookies.”

  “You baked?”

  “No, I found them sitting on the porch.”

  “Let me take them. Mom said she left something for me.” I stood on tip toes to give him a kiss and set the cookies on the coffee table. “Help yourself. I’ve got something to look up.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “What are you looking for?” Duane sat in the one arm chair I owned with a glass of milk in one of his hands and the plate of cookies on the end table beside him.

  I sat cross-legged on the floor with my father’s journals spread out in front of me. “A drug that makes people forget things for a while.”

  Duane frowned and leaned forward. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you? Drugs are never the answer.”

  “Nothing’s bothering me, silly. It has to do with the case.” I flipped open the first book. “With myself and Lindsey, money was stolen from the store while we were there, yet neither of us remember a thing. Then, if you recall, I stumbled home afterward with drunk-like symptoms.”

  “I remember.” He winked. “I wanted to carry you to your room.” Duane ate a cookie then downed some milk.