Rear-View Murder: A Gemma Stone Cozy Mystery

by Willow Monroe

  Rear-view Murder: A Gemma Stone Cozy Mystery

  Willow Monroe

  Published by Betsy Belle Books, 2015.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  REAR-VIEW MURDER: A GEMMA STONE COZY MYSTERY

  First edition. July 10, 2015.

  Copyright © 2015 Willow Monroe.

  Written by Willow Monroe.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Rear-view Murder: A Gemma Stone Cozy Mystery

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rear-view Murder

  Chapter One

  Gemma Stone let out a sigh of resignation and rested her forehead on the steering wheel, blocking out the midday sun and ignoring the fact that she was parked in the middle of the street. She’d backed out of the driveway onto the street and now her mom’s old Subaru refused to go into drive.

  Again.

  “Maybe Nick is right,” Gemma said aloud to the car. “If I’m going to be running a business, I need reliable transportation.”

  Nick, Gemma’s friend and one-time fiancé, thought she needed an upgrade to some sort of car that actually ran like it should. Her best friend Holly agreed, and today was the day that Gemma was supposed to buy something new.

  No matter what, she just couldn’t seem to make them understand her feelings about driving this car...or trying to, anyway.

  Her cell phone chirped on the seat beside her and Gemma sighed again when she saw Holly’s name appear on the little screen. She truly loved Holly, who was more like her sister than her best friend.

  “Hey, girl,” Gemma said into the phone, trying to shift gears as she did.

  “Hey, did you pick out a car yet?” Holly asked.

  “Um, no, not yet,” Gemma said. Maybe Holly would lighten up if she thought Gemma was actually looking.

  A Subaru, older than the one she was driving, stopped beside her on the quiet residential street. It was Mr. Parsons, an elderly man she’d known most of her life. “You need some help, young lady?”

  “No, Mr. Parsons,” Gemma said. “I’ve got it under control.”

  He bobbed his head and Gemma caught a whiff of cigar smoke. “Good to see you holdin’ on to your mama’s car. It’ll get cantankerous after a while but it’s worth fixin’.”

  “Wouldn’t trade it for the world,” Gemma answered, thinking it was already getting cantankerous.

  “Okay, just yell if you need anything,” he said.

  “I will, sir. Thank you.” She waved, but he was already gone.

  “You haven’t even left the house, have you?” Holly’s question let Gemma know she’d heard the whole conversation.

  “No.” Gemma confessed. She and Holly Blake had been best friends since first grade and they were soon to be business partners. And some days, she would almost swear that Holly could read her mind.

  “I thought you were supposed to meet Nick...” Holly paused and then said, “Your car won’t go into drive again.”

  How could Holly be right every time? Gemma didn’t answer her.

  “Want me to come by and get you?”

  “No,” Gemma said quickly. The last thing she wanted was both Holly and Nick ganging up on her, trying to talk her into buying a car.

  To be honest, Gemma wasn’t sure what all the fuss was about. Sometimes the fourteen year old Subaru just wouldn't go into drive unless you drove in reverse first. Sometimes it just needed a few feet, sometimes it needed a few miles. She had only driven all the way out of her neighborhood backwards twice in the past few months. And that really wasn’t too much of a problem in the daylight. Oh, she’d surprised a pedestrian or two as well as the crossing guard at the elementary school two blocks over. Gemma was proud of the fact that she had mastered the art of driving in reverse pretty well, and it occurred to her that she could probably back all of the way to Harper’s Car Lot.

  “Tell you what, after you pick out a car, give me a call. We’ll meet for lunch and talk about HealthGems,” Holly said, breaking into Gemma’s thoughts.

  Just hearing the name of their new business brought a smile to Gemma’s face. The two of them had been tossing around the idea of creating and selling beautiful jewelry designed to enhance a healthy lifestyle for over a year. After the death of her parents six months ago, Gemma decided the time was right for them to go for it. She’d inherited enough money (along with the house and the cantankerous Subaru) to fund their idea.

  Holly’s breathtaking jewelry designs matched perfectly with software they’d managed to purchase. Gemma was sure with her degree in marketing, they could make a name for themselves in the rapidly growing fitness jewelry craze. Some days, Gemma felt as if she was standing at the threshold of something amazing. On other days she was scared to death of trying something so risky, but the loss of her parents had taught her a valuable lesson: tomorrow isn’t promised.

  “That sounds good. I have an idea about renting a kiosk at the mall during the Christmas holidays,” Gemma said, blurting out the one idea she was afraid Holly would not like.

  “That sounds expensive to me,” Holly said, after a few minutes.

  “It will be, but I think it’s worth it,” Gemma said. She was ready for this argument. “Think of the exposure, especially from Black Friday till Christmas.”

  Holly was quiet.

  “Promise me you’ll at least think about it.”

  “Oh, I will,” Holly said. “If you’ll think about getting a dependable vehicle.”

  “Okay,” Gemma conceded. “I promise.”

  And then she looked up to see Nick standing in front of her car, head cocked to the side, hands on his hips.

  Starting her own business wasn’t the only change Gemma made in her life during the past six months. She and Nick had been engaged when her parents were killed. After that loss, Gemma began to question everything, and that included her desire to spend the rest of her life with the man she’d known since second grade. He’d taken her decision well, pretty much buried himself in his work at the newspaper, and they had remained friends. Their only bone of contention: her refusal to get rid of the Subaru.

  “Nick’s here,” Gemma said.

  “He must have been afraid you’d back out,” Holly said with a laugh. “See you later.”

  Gemma ended the call, smiled at Nick and gave him a little wave. Handsome in a rough and tumble, boy next door kind of way, he had curly brown hair and blue-green eyes and was in perpetual need of a shave. But it was Nick’s boyish grin and his ability to make her laugh that always warmed Gemma’s heart. She couldn’t imagine him not being in her life.

  “Looks like you’re in a predicament, little lady,” he said in his best John Wayne impersonation as he sauntered up to the open window.

  “Yeah, something like that.” She caught a whiff of his cologne. He smelled good.

  “Would you like some help?”

  “Any ideas?”

  “Besides getting rid of this old girl?” he asked, patting the side of the car.

  “Besides that.”

  “What if I get you positioned so you can back up into the
driveway and at least get her off the street?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Gemma said, relieved that he didn’t go into his usual tirade about trading in the old car.

  Nick walked around to the trunk. Gemma put it in neutral and made sure to keep her foot off the brake. After a few seconds, she began to move forward and soon she was lined up perfectly to back into the driveway. The car slid smoothly into reverse and in just a matter of minutes, she was looking through the windshield again at Nick. Now, he stood at the end of her driveway, both hands in his pockets and that lopsided grin on his face.

  “Come on,” he called out. “Let’s go look at new cars.”

  Turning off the engine, Gemma rolled up the window, grabbed her purse and phone and climbed out of the car. She trotted down the driveway toward him, her high heels making little clicking sounds on the concrete.

  “You’re going car shopping in those shoes?” Nick asked, shaking his head.

  Gemma looked down at her favorite high heeled sandals, pink toenails shimmering in the mid-morning sunshine. “It’s warm enough, and they remind me of summer.”

  “Okay,” Nick said with a shrug, although from the look on his face, it was pretty obvious he didn’t understand the shoe thing at all.

  Chapter Two

  Once inside Nick’s car, Gemma sat quiet watching the familiar scenery slide by.

  “You don’t have to trade the Subaru in, you know,” Nick said once they were out of her neighborhood and headed toward Gypsy Hill, the small town where they’d grown up. “I’m sure you can afford a down payment.”

  “I know, I know,” Gemma said. She didn’t want to talk about this.

  “Your mom and dad would want you to have a safe, reliable vehicle,” Nick continued.

  “You’re right,” Gemma said.

  “And in spite of the fact that we’re no longer engaged, I kind of feel responsible for you,” he added. “Besides that old car goes better in snow backwards than most new cars do going forwards.”

  They both laughed at that, the tension between them easing.

  “Okay, here’s the deal,” Gemma said, turning to face him and hoping she was giving him her best I mean business look. “I’ll test drive a car and maybe even buy one. But I’m keeping the Subaru.”

  “Deal,” Nick said, offering her his hand. “Actually, Buddy’s kind of already got one picked out for you, if you like it.”

  Gemma slid her hand into his and they shook. And then he began inventing new handshakes that continued until he made her laugh.

  “That’s the sound that I love,” he said, kissing the back of her fingers.

  Harper’s Car Lot, where Nick’s brother-in-law worked, was just ahead on their left. Nick flicked on his turn signal and pulled into the only available parking spot, directly in front of a small brick building that squatted in the center of the lot. Gemma stepped out into the warm, early spring sunshine and looked around at the sea of used cars - every color, make and model imaginable.

  "Okay, so which of these cars does Buddy think he can get me a deal on and what is wrong with it?" she asked.

  The used cars at this dealership came in two kinds. Car-Fax certified models with extended warranties for people with good credit. Then there were the other cars. Those other cars might keep running as long as you owed money on them, or they might not. Sometimes they just had weird issues, like a passenger side window that wouldn't roll down. Or the passenger and driver doors might not open with the same key.

  The terms were highly negotiable. Buddy, the only salesman, was known for all manner of horse trading to get somebody who was down on their luck behind the wheel of an entry-level used car. Nick told Gemma one story of a guy who had traded a banjo for a used Isuzu Rodeo with a leaky exhaust manifold. She had no idea what an exhaust manifold was, but it was a funny story.

  "I don't think there is anything wrong with it at all, but I'm not sure where it is,” Nick said from the opposite side of his car. “Actually, I'm not even sure where Buddy is. Usually he tries to scare the hell out of me as soon as I set foot on the lot."

  He had scarcely finished the sentence when a red Hyundai Sonata came flying past him with the windows rolled down, stereo blaring some country music song. Gemma heard a rebel yell from the interior and recognized a grinning Buddy behind the wheel.

  Buddy certainly knew how to make an entrance.

  The other thing she and everyone else was aware of was Buddy’s size. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall, dwarfing Nick. Even as the Sonata slid to a halt behind Nick’s car, Gemma thought that he appeared to be wearing it like a sweater-vest rather than driving it.

  Buddy’s cowboy boots hit the pavement and the vehicle lifted several inches higher on its springs. Towering over Gemma and Nick, Buddy stuck out a hand about the size of a ham. The two men shook while Gemma let her gaze wander over the crowded lot.

  “Hiya, bro!” Buddy’s voice boomed. “And howdy, little lady! It's good to see you! Do you know that you only have one earring?"

  Gemma reached up and touched both of her earlobes,

  "In each ear!" Bobby guffawed at his own joke.

  Gemma chuckled in spite of herself and Nick just rolled his eyes. Obviously he’d heard this routine too many times.

  "So is this the car that you think Gemma might want to look at?" Nick asked, motioning toward the Sonata.

  Gemma held her breath, praying that he would say no.

  "Yup! It's a repo,” he said, his big head bobbing up and down quickly as he looked from one of them to the other. “Just got it from the big auto action over Richmond way. The original manufacturer’s warranty still has twenty-thousand miles left on it. I’ve been driving it around for a few days and I can’t see where it would be likely to need any work."

  Nick reached inside and popped the hood. Gemma peered over his shoulder, absolutely clueless as to what they were looking at...or for. But Nick nodded appreciatively and pulled out a long metal stick that looked like it was covered with oil. He wiped the excess oil off the stick and rubbed it between his fingers.

  "Well at least the head gasket isn't seeping," he said.

  "Now, I only sold you ONE car with a seeping head gasket!" Buddy told Nick. "And even after I married your sister to try to make things right you still won't let me forget it."

  Nick rolled his eyes again. Gemma walked slowly around the vehicle. She wondered if she should kick a tire or something. Her parents had helped her buy a car while she was in school, but her dad had made the decision on that one. Besides, she didn’t want to scuff up her pretty new shoes, so she decided against kicking the tires. However, if Buddy didn’t soon shut up, she thought she might kick him.

  Just as that satisfying thought flitted through her mind, she heard a melodic beeping sound and looked up to see Buddy with a small meter of sorts in his hand.

  “I’m a diabetic,” he explained when he saw her looking. “My insulin pump is reminding me that it is time to refill it”.”

  Gemma started to ask Buddy a question about diabetes and insulin. It was something she knew little about. That’s when she spotted a small, bright blue car parked around the side of the brick building almost out of sight. The metallic paint glittered in the sunshine. Gemma started toward it.

  “Gemma,” Nick said.

  Feeling strangely drawn to the little car sitting all by itself, Gemma circled it, touched the hood and circled it again. “What’s wrong with this car?” she asked looking up at the surprised faces of Buddy and Nick, who had followed her.

  “Nothing,” Buddy answered. “We got it at the same auction as the Sonata. It’s a repo, too, but...”

  “I like this one,” Gemma said quietly.

  “But it’s not really ready to sell,” Buddy began. “It has to be cleaned up and I’m not even sure of the warranty information or...”

  “I like this one,” she repeated. “Can I drive it?”

  Nick nudged Buddy in the side with his elbow. “Get the keys.
Let her drive it.”

  “Okay, but...” Buddy’s voice trailed off as he went after the keys.

  “You like this one?” Nick said quietly as he walked slowly around the car.

  “I feel sort of drawn to it,” Gemma said, frowning as she tried to explain her feelings. “I think it needs me.”

  Before Nick could respond, Buddy returned. “This is against my better judgment, but here you go,” he announced and unlocked the car door.

  The first thing that hit Gemma was a wave of heat from inside the vehicle. Then she made a face as another smell filled her nose. It smelled musty and kind of weird, like an old basement.

  “What’s that smell?” Nick asked. “Has this car been in a flood?”

  “No, we won’t buy a car that’s been in a flood,” Buddy assured them. “It’s been sitting a while, though,” he explained. “I think it just needs to be aired out.”

  “Can I drive it now?” Gemma asked, holding out her hand.

  “Sure,” Buddy said, handing over the keys.

  The engine started with only a little reluctance and Gemma put down all four windows to let air flow through the hot vehicle. It really did smell bad, but it looked pretty clean. The driver’s seat was positioned so far back she could just barely touch the pedals with her toes. After adjusting for that, she pulled a Kleenex out of her purse and wiped off the steering wheel and gearshift knob. She pulled the driver's door closed and shifted it into drive.

  Smooth as silk.

  Nick gave her thumbs up sign and she nodded. This was a good start.

  “Want me to go with you?” he asked, stepping closer to the car.

  “No, thanks,” Gemma said. “I want to experience it by myself.”

  “Okay,” he said with a little smile, patted the side of the car and stepped back. “Be careful.”

  Gemma put the car in reverse and backed up. Again, she shifted into drive and the transmission operated smoothly. Once out on the street, she picked up a little bit of speed and then she changed lanes and took the exit onto the interstate that made a loop around town. She fiddled with the radio and found it working perfectly. The air conditioning was blowing cold and the engine hummed along, almost purring. The little car actually seemed to be happy to be zipping down the highway. And that smell seemed to be dissipating.