Played by the Book (A Novel Idea Mystery 4)

by Lucy Arlington

  So, later that morning, armed with an extratall latte to spur me on after a restless night of sleep, I worked my way south on High Street, delivering brochures. At the corner of High and Dogwood, I stopped at Sixpence Bakery. There I nibbled on a scone and chatted a bit with Nell about the pies she was making for this weekend’s dinner. Afterward, I moved on to Sherlock Holmes Realty, where I left a large stack of brochures for Ruthie’s clients. Ruthie wasn’t there, but I left the brochures with her secretary.

  Next, I stopped in All Creatures, Feathered and Furry Pet Shop and formally introduced myself to the new shop’s owner, Matt Reynolds. He was a giant of a man, with a grizzly beard and a shoulder spread that rivaled any NFL linebacker, but when he handled the animals, he was as gentle as a lamb. He took me back to the puppy area to show off his newest arrival. “This is Olive,” he said, handing me the tiny ball of fur. “She’s a Cavalier King Charles spaniel, purebred,” he explained. “She won’t get much bigger than this.” He spread his hands about a foot apart.

  I looked down at the pup nuzzled against my chest. “She’s so cute!” I raved, cradling her like a baby. She was a fluff ball of cream and brown fur, with big furry brown ears that were practically bigger than her whole body. And her eyes—giant, solemn brown eyes that I could get lost in forever. My earlier anxieties had already been subdued to a degree by my busy morning, but now they melted away completely with this sweet baby in my arms. A lick to my nose and I giggled with delight. What a charmer! They said having a pet can lower a person’s blood pressure and I surely believed it now.

  Reluctantly, I gave her one last nuzzle and handed her back to Matt. She was so completely adorable, I could hardly stand to leave her, but my bag was still bulging with undelivered brochures. I pulled out a stack and explained to Matt about the weekend’s events.

  “I’ve seen this advertised,” he commented. “The wife and I are planning to go. We’re new to the area, so we thought it would be a great way to meet people. Plus, my wife’s a huge fan of Damian York.” He grinned and glanced at the floor. “I think she has a crush on him.”

  I laughed. I’d heard similar stories all over town. Seems Damian had charmed the entire female demographic of Inspiration Valley. “Well, she’s not alone. I think most of the Valley has a crush.” On the way back to the front of the store, I detoured through the cat section and picked up a catnip mouse for Eliot. Since I didn’t have a pet of my own, I was glad Vicky had chosen to share Eliot. I was growing quite attached to the fellow.

  I caught back up to Matt at the checkout counter. While he rang up my order, I thought of another question. “Did you know Fannie Walker? She probably shopped here for cat supplies.”

  He nodded. “Yes. Eliot, right?”

  “Wow, you remember the names of your shoppers’ pets?”

  He handed me my bag and smiled. “I’m embarrassed to admit that sometimes I remember their pets’ names before theirs.” He paused, his eyebrows furrowing. “Speaking of Eliot, what’s happened to him since … since—”

  “Since Fannie died?” I finished for him.

  He looked down and nodded. “Yes, a terrible thing about that.”

  I nodded. “But Eliot’s fine—he’s found a home in our own agency as our mascot, in fact.” He smiled at that, but Fannie’s death still hung in the air between us for a moment. I tapped the brochure. “She was a wonderful gardener, you know. So active in the Valley’s garden club.”

  A smile crossed his face. “I know, she spoke often about her involvement with some group that calls itself the Dirty Dozen.” He chuckled at the mention of the name, then sobered again. “That woman did love gardening.” His expression lightened as he made a mental connection. “Come to think of it, I bought this store from some other lady who belonged to that garden club. Alice Peabody.”

  My antenna shot up. “Really?”

  “Yes.” He waved his hand in the air, his face full of pride. “All she talked about was roses. I don’t think she was much of an animal lover. She seemed to deplore her neighbor’s dog. A Jack Russell terrier. You know how they are?”

  I shook my head.

  “Diggers,” he explained. “Seems the little fellow got into Ms. Peabody’s garden and dug up one of her plants. Boy, was she ever mad.”

  “I bet,” I muttered, hoping she didn’t go after the innocent pup with a spade.

  “Do you remember what this place was before?” he continued. I opened my mouth to reply, but he answered his own question. “A mechanic’s garage, that’s what. It was quite the job to turn it into what it is today.”

  I nodded impatiently. “And Alice Peabody owned it?” I prompted.

  “Her husband owned the place, but after he passed, she had a difficult time keeping it up. She finally decided to sell.” He shook his head. “She wasn’t an easy lady to deal with, that’s for sure.”

  “Really? Why’s that?”

  “A hard businesswoman. Real cutthroat.”

  Or heavy-handed. I started to think, my mind jumping into wordplay—a habit I’d picked up from reading so many cozy mysteries. Heavy-handed with a spade.

  I took my bag and turned to leave. “You’re not the only one who’s said that about Alice Peabody,” I assured him. I started making my way toward the door. “She has a reputation for being murderously competitive,” I added, unable to resist a little innuendo.

  I left Matt’s shop and worked my way around the Nine Muses fountain, pausing for just a second to dip my hand in the cool pool gathered at the feet of the beautiful muses. Their serene expressions tempted me to stay longer, but I couldn’t spare the time. Instead, I dug a lucky penny out of my bag, made a quick wish, and pensively watched it sink to the bottom of the fountain alongside hundreds of other talismans. A flicker of doubt entered my mind. How could it possibly be that all those wishes came true? Would my wish for Sean and me … ? I shook it off, reminding myself that I’d pledged to spend the day focused on work.

  I moved on, crossing to the opposite side of High Street. Next on my route was the Constant Reader, one of my favorite shops in town. And since the bookshop was connected inside by a large archway to the James Joyce Pub, I’d timed my visit at the end of my route, planning to grab a sandwich to take back to the office. As I approached the store, I noticed a large crowd gathered by the door, admiring a small billboard advertising Damian’s signing. “He’s adorable,” one young lady gushed. Another broke into a spurt of giggles, while yet another mockingly fanned herself. “Adorable? Hot’s more like it.”

  I smiled and approached with a handful of brochures. “Here’s some pamphlets about this weekend’s event, girls. Damian York would love to have you at his book launch,” I added, garnishing another round of chortling. Perhaps I should tell Bentley to order extra copies of the book. Considering the size of Damian’s apparent fan base, we might need more books than we originally thought.

  I dispensed the brochures to the eager young women and turned to enter the shop, stopping short when I noticed the Will Return sign on the door. I glanced up and down the street, wondering where Jay was; the note indicated that he’d return at noon and it was already a quarter past the hour. Then, as if on cue, I saw him hustling down the walk, a small plastic bag clutched protectively to his chest. “Glad I caught you!” I said when he reached me.

  “Sorry, Lila. I just stepped out to run a quick errand, but it took longer than I expected.” He unlocked the door and stepped inside. As he turned the door sign back to Open, I caught a glimpse of the bag he was carrying. There was no mistaking the small telltale blue and white bag from the local jewelry shop.

  “Been doing a little shopping, Jay?” I was racking my mind, trying to think of when Makayla’s birthday was, then it dawned on me. “Jay! Is that what I think it is?”

  Color rose to his cheeks as his face broke into a wide grin. “You’re sworn to secrecy.” He laughed. “But, yes, it’s what you’re thinking. I’m going to ask Makayla to marry me.”

  Both m
y hands flew to my cheeks. “Jay! That’s wonderful news,” I gushed. “Can I see it?”

  He motioned for me to follow to one of the store’s cozy nooks, where he opened the bag and brought out a velvet box. Turning to me, he popped the lid, revealing the most beautiful solitaire diamond ring I’d ever seen. “Oh, Jay,” was all I could manage. The ring was gorgeous; Makayla was going to love it.

  No one deserved happiness as much as my friends Jay and Makayla. Still, as I stared down at the sparkling gem, a little envy nipped at the joy in my heart. “Makayla’s a lucky lady,” I brought myself to say, my eyes growing moist with tears of happiness tinged with a little bit of sadness.

  “No, I’m the lucky one. Makayla”—his face lit up as he spoke—“well … she’s like the happy ending to my story.” He shook his head, color rising to his cheeks. “That was corny, wasn’t it?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Yes. Corny, but sweet.”

  He stared down at the ring, a shadow of doubt crossing his face. “Now, let’s just hope she says yes.”

  “Are you crazy? Of course she’s going to say yes. When are you going to pop the question?” I gulped down the feeling of desperation that swelled inside me. I’d been waiting for my own magic moment, the day that Sean would propose to me. The way things were going between us, I might never see that moment.

  Jay fumbled with the box, wrapping it back inside the bag. “I’m trying to think of the perfect way to ask her. I want her to always remember my proposal.”

  I reached out and touched his arm. “I’m so happy for both of you.”

  *

  BACK AT NOVEL Idea, I walked through the reception room, snatched up Eliot, and headed straight for my office. “I just need to borrow him for a little while,” I said over my shoulder.

  “I completely understand,” Vicky replied, not missing a beat on her keyboard.

  I shut my office door and placed the comforting creature on my desk, stroking his fur until he settled into a position. For the next couple of hours, I addressed the onslaught of emails I’d received the last few days plus a new pile of queries that had shown up on my desk. I always tried my best to respond to authors in a timely matter; I knew how much of their souls they’d poured into their work and how anxious they were to hear my response. Sometimes, though, my other agent responsibilities got in the way of my daily work. Events like Damian’s book launch consumed a lot of my reading time. Now that it was just a few days away, the rest of my week was sure to be hectic, so I intended to clear my desk by the end of the day. That way, I could spend the next few days focused on the event. It was exciting and important to Novel Idea, and therefore to my career, as well. But as I heard the soft purr of Eliot, snoozing contentedly on my desk, I knew what I really wanted at this moment was to get through this week and all its work-related events so that I could finally breathe enough to have a good sit-down with Sean. I owed him an explanation, if not an apology of sorts. That’s all we needed, a little time together. Sean’s caseload lately had been overwhelming for him, too. I’d only added to it with that death-threat letter, plus a skeleton in my backyard. So I’d unintentionally piled on him more reasons we couldn’t … wait … Perhaps I could help him with at least closing the cold case; it would carve out more time for us.

  My mind was still stuck on something Mrs. Cobb had said. Now, thanks to Flora, I knew when Mrs. Cobb asked about her children, she was referring to her foster children. If I could only get a name, Helen’s real name, perhaps I could trigger Mrs. Cobb’s memory and some real answers to what might have happened years ago.

  Then it dawned on me. The pictures at Fannie’s house. Maybe, if I gathered them and took them to Mrs. Cobb, she might recognize a face. Certainly it might be quicker than waiting for a court order. I snatched up my phone and dialed Sean’s cell. He answered on the first ring. “Everything okay?”

  “No, I’m sorry. I just happened to think of something. Did you interview Mrs. Cobb personally?”

  “Yes, me and another officer, but she was having memory problems when we talked to her. We didn’t get much.”

  “I found the same thing when I met her. But she does have some moments of lucidity.”

  “What are you getting at exactly?”

  “When we were at Fannie’s the other day, I saw pictures of foster children. We know at least one of them, Flora, was placed with the Cobbs. Maybe others were taken in by the Cobbs as well. Would it be okay if I took some pictures to her, just to see if it triggers any memories? Maybe something that would help the case?”

  “We already did that. She didn’t recognize any of the photos. I turned them back to Walker. He’s getting ready to clear out the old home; he’s getting it ready to sell. He said something about an estate sale first thing next week.”

  “What?”

  “It’s his home now, Lila. We scanned the pictures to keep on file and returned the hard copies to Walker. He can do anything he wants with them; the photos are really no use to us. Besides, as soon as we get the social services records, we’ll have all the information we need.”

  “Still, I’d like to try showing Peggy the photos myself. Is that possible? Maybe if someone other than a police officer approached her, she might be more relaxed. You said yourself it might take a while to get the state’s records released.”

  He let out a long sigh. “I can get the photos if you want, but not until later. I have other things more pressing at the moment. But I’ll be talking to Walker this afternoon. I’ll see if he’ll give us permission to borrow the photos again. I don’t think he’ll put up a fight about it. He’s not in the position to be anything but cooperative.”

  “Well, if he’s okay with it, Vicky’s got a set of keys I can borrow. I could head over there tonight and pick them up. I’d hate for him to get rid of them before I had a chance to show them to Peggy again.”

  “You’re not going over to the Walker home alone, Lila. It’ll have to wait.”

  “I understand your concern, Sean. But I wouldn’t go alone. I’ll find someone to go with me.”

  This time, an even longer sigh sounded over the line. “I’ll tell you what. Get someone to go with you and I’ll send an officer by the place to meet you. One of the guys lives over in that area; he can stop by on his way home. Will seven work?”

  “Yes. Seven would work fine.”

  “Promise me you’ll wait for him to get there.”

  I promised and hung up the phone. I knew just the person to ask to go with me—Makayla. I needed to drop some brochures with her anyway. Plus, after hearing Jay’s news, I’d skipped my plans for picking up a sandwich from the pub and come straight back to the office. Suddenly I felt famished.

  I found Makayla in her usual position behind the counter. Today she was wearing a dark purple T-shirt tied off on one hip, cropped jeans, and beaded earrings that swung on her earlobes as she worked. As soon as she saw me, she started steaming milk.

  “Here you go,” she said a minute later, sliding my caramel latte across the counter and handing me a folded paper bag.

  “What’s this?” I hadn’t ordered anything except my usual latte. Although, admittedly I’d been deliberating over something decadent from her pastry case.

  “I’m trying some new bagel flavors. This one is an Asiago bagel with vegetable cream cheese. I mixed the cream cheese myself. I think you’ll like it.”

  “Sounds yummy,” I said, but my eyes betrayed me by sliding longingly toward the chocolate chip muffins. My stressful morning had left me with a hankering for something sweet. Years of pacifying my emotions with Mama’s sweet bread must have set my bar for comfort food and I wasn’t quite sure this cheesy bagel would do the trick. But not wanting to hurt Makayla’s feelings, I took the bag with a smile. “And these are for you.” I reached into my shoulder bag and extracted a bundle of brochures. “Push one on everyone who comes through the door, will you? We need all the advertising we can get.”

  “Will do,” she chimed in
her melodic voice, and began wiping the counter with a rag. I wanted to bring up the topic about my threat letter, but it would probably be too long a discussion and I was pressed for time. Best to save it for later. Besides, I noticed she seemed exceptionally happy this morning and I hated the idea of ruining her good spirits.

  “Anything new?” I asked, eyeing her suspiciously and wondering if the glow on her face had something to do with Jay’s pending proposal.

  A telltale blush crossed her cheeks as she dipped her chin and grinned mischievously. But instead of explaining, she simply shrugged. “No, not really. Same old same, really.”

  I squinted, not quite believing her, but knowing that she’d tell me in her own time. “Same old same, huh? Well, perhaps you need something to shake things up a bit.”

  Her brows shot up. “What do you have cooking in that mind of yours, girl?”

  I leaned over the counter and whispered conspiratorially, “A little sleuthing. I’ve got an idea about how I might be able to figure out the identity of the body in my yard.” The bells jingled over the door as a couple of customers walked in and headed our way. “I can’t give you all the details now, but it’s important. And, unless you want to ride on my cargo rack, you’ll have to drive. Are you in?”

  She nodded. “Of course. When and where?”

  I glanced over at the customers to see if I was holding them up, but they were still squinting at the chalkboard menu that hung over the counter. “Can you come by my place around six?”

  She giggled and motioned for me to lean in more. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she whispered. “I feel just like Bess Marvin—Nancy Drew’s sidekick—along for the adventure and helping Nancy solve crimes.”