Midnight Mysteries: Nine Cozy Tales by Nine Bestselling Authors

by Ritter Ames

  “So, you think it will do?” she asked the Caped Crusader standing in the middle of her bedroom.

  “Once I have my utility belt,” Keith responded, lowering his voice an octave or two and trying to duplicate the movie Batman’s deeper cadence. “I’ll be ready for anything.”

  Kate laughed. “What I’m afraid of. I hope the utility belt is more for show than anything else. Remember, you can’t have weapons at the school carnival.”

  He planted a fist on his hip. “But I’m Batman.”

  “Batman will still have to leave his toys at home if they pose any potential for injury.” Kate stretched on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “With or without the special utility belt, you make a very handsome superhero.”

  “Mom! Meg’s here!” one of the twins hollered up the staircase.

  Kate patted Keith’s chest. “I have to go. Do you have time for pizza if I order it for both families? My plan is to get Meg to stay a while and tell me about her mom’s appointment.”

  “Sure, I want an all-meats one.”

  “Like I’d ever forget.”

  But when she got downstairs, she met a subdued neighbor.

  “Is your mom—?” Kate began, gripping the bottom post.

  The redhead waved a hand. “We’ll talk once we can get the kids settled. Wanted to see what your evening schedule is like.”

  “I was going to order pizza for everyone. You and the boys can eat with us. Call Gil and he can join too.”

  “He has some town meeting to cover,” Meg said. “But the rest of us will take you up on the offer.”

  It wasn’t the appointment with the nutritionist that had Meg acting more somber than normal. By the time the pizzas arrived, and Keith ate and left for work—now dressed as a mild mannered on-air sports radio personality, instead of the Dark Knight—the women left the kids fighting over slices at the kitchen table and took their own meals into the quiet of the living room. The cat remained close by and executed a continuous loop between the two rooms, on the lookout for dropped cheese or soft-hearted humans ready to toss him a piece or two of pizza.

  “I got the kids started on homework when we got back, but you might want to take a look at what Ben did,” Kate said. “I have a feeling your first grader is more interested in making his pictures say a thousand words than actually learning to write the words.”

  Meg rolled her eyes. “He is driving his father nuts. He’s decided he doesn’t need to read, because the Egyptians used a picture language. So, he’s going to do the same thing.”

  “Doesn’t bode well for becoming teacher’s pet, but it definitely shows imagination.”

  “And we thought we were being good parents when we took the boys to see the traveling ancient Egyptian show when it was in D.C. last summer.” Meg shook her head and took a bite of pizza.

  The cat strolled in looking for handouts, and Kate gave him the stink eye. Not that it bothered the feline in the least.

  “So what’s the scoop on today’s appointment?” Kate asked, pulling her socked feet up to tuck under her on the couch. “Did the allergist have any quick results? Or will it be more waiting?”

  “More waiting. Story of our lives. But we should know something by the beginning of next week. Despite the allergist’s opposing view, Mother asked him to send all the results to the nutritionist, since she was the specialist who started this new circuit in the ‘Spin for Health’ game. Mother is so sick of appointments, she’s trying to combine any she possibly can, and I really can’t blame her. The meal program was the reason for the allergist’s involvement anyway, but a part of me is worried a piece of the puzzle will fall through the cracks somewhere.” Meg picked a piece of chicken off her spinach/tomato/chicken Alfredo pizza and threw it to the cat. He caught it and gobbled it in one swallow, then he turned his orange and gold face toward Kate and looked hopeful. She ignored him. He knew he’d get her leftovers, but she was trying to teach him patience. Plus, he was getting fat. Well, fatter.

  She took a sip of lemon water, and then set it on the coaster before she asked, “And the way you turned quiet earlier at the neighbor’s house. What was that all about?”

  “I’m not sure, but something about Linda Johnson bothered me,” Meg said, dropping her slice to the plate and setting it on the coffee table with the glasses.

  “You’re not going to tell me you think she’s a witch too,” Kate said.

  “No…” Meg stared off into the distance. “I just feel like I know her from somewhere, or I’m used to seeing her picture…but different.”

  “We didn’t really get to talk much to find out more about her, but maybe you’re remembering her mother from when the two of you were kids. If she looks like her mom did then it could be why you’re thinking she looks different.”

  “Maybe. But the way she hedged on her Hazelton history made me wonder too. She made such a big deal about saying she hadn’t been here long when she was a kid. Why come back then?”

  “Could have been the happiest time of her life, so she returned when she had the chance,” Kate replied. “Her accent sounded like she might be from the Bronx. A lot of rat race New Englanders are escaping this direction to find a slower life. So many people telecommute now, and she had such an amazing computer setup in her house—she could probably run the Mars Rover from there.”

  Meg laughed. “You’re right. She could be anyone doing anything. I shouldn’t hook some kind of cloak and dagger idea on the woman. Especially with the witch reputation she’s already acquired. I’m getting as vivid an imagination as Ben. But I think I will call a friend of mine who’s involved in local cat rescue efforts to see if she has any intel about our Linda Johnson. Even her name sounds like an alias.”

  “We’ve had so many criminal adventures lately, you’re looking for trouble everywhere. Just don’t find any dead bodies. I need a break from seeing the Vermont State Police.”

  “You and me, both,” Meg said, nodding. “Have you heard anything else from Mrs. Dawson about the job?”

  “Yes, she texted me. Let me grab my phone.” Kate rose from the couch and walked to the kitchen, where her purse lay on the far counter. The kids sat playing a rousing game of Uno, after having pushed all the plates and leftover pizza to one side. The cat crouched at the pizza end, a smug look on his face as he guarded two pieces with bacon and ham which had apparently fallen to the floor during the big slide. The slices also once held pineapple pieces, but the cat had brushed those aside to better eat the toppings he preferred. She sent him a stern look with a raised eyebrow, but he simply stared at her and smacked his mouth. Seeming to emphasize to Kate how self-sufficient he believed he was. Basically a feline nyah-nyah.

  She smiled and bussed the table. At least this meant she didn’t have to give the portly kitty any pizza herself and appear as a pushover. Though she knew she really was one. Once everything perishable was in the refrigerator, she wished the kids luck and exited with her phone.

  “Let me see.” She swiped the screen with a finger. “Mr. Dawson’s birthday is the seventh of next month, and she said we can come by and take measurements any day between nine and four.”

  “And she still wants all the work done in one day?” Meg asked.

  “Yes, otherwise she said she can’t guarantee he won’t see it early. I thought we could go over there tomorrow before heading to the gym to decorate for the Halloween carnival. Once we get the measurements, it will be a snap to write up the order sheets, and I’ll send those to the installer so he can get his crew ready for the heavier parts of the job we can’t do.”

  “Perfect. Can I ask a favor?”

  “Of course.”

  “Mrs. Wilton ran into Mother and me this afternoon and asked if I’d come pick up the apples for the carnival. Like a dummy, I immediately said yes, then realized later I’d have to make several trips to try to carry all those apples in the trunk of my Camry.”

  Kate nodded, swallowing her last bite of pizza before answering, “Sure, we’ll go by t
here after we measure the Dawson’s garage, and the Wilton boys can load everything in the van’s bay. It’ll be perfect timing since our next stop will be the gym anyway.”

  * * *

  NEXT MORNING’S MEASURING event went smoothly. Their client followed them around like a puppy, but Kate and Meg were used to the phenomenon and had perfected their own strategy with previous jobs. When Kate’s anxiety started building, Meg pulled the client into a conversation. As Kate’s tension levels reduced, she continued with the necessary tasks. Meg kept the client busy. A perfect combo, but even more important this time. Everyone in Hazelton knew Mrs. Dawson’s superpower lay in being a busybody of the highest order. Meg had already mentioned in the car how she intended to try channeling the power for good gossip, so their typical procedure held additional promise this time.

  Meg’s call the previous evening to the friend in the rescue group hadn’t borne fruit, so the redhead was ready for any possible avenue of information. And Mrs. Dawson was the next hope.

  “Have you met Linda Johnson?” Meg asked the silver haired client, steering their route toward the coffee pot Mrs. Dawson set up in the garage when they arrived. “We went by there yesterday and introduced ourselves to her. She seemed familiar to me.”

  Mrs. Dawson took the cup poured for her, and followed Meg’s subliminal “relaxed” example by leaning against the edge of the work table to talk. Kate had to hide a smile as she measured. Her partner was simply the best at this maneuver.

  Talk about a superpower, she thought.

  “I remember the family from decades ago,” Mrs. Dawson said, pushing away her silver bangs with one hand. “But I really can’t say I remember Linda. Well, let me rephrase; I remember her, but not as she is now. I don’t know how to explain it, just…well…she’s grown up to look differently than I would have expected.”

  “No one seems to know much about her. I talked to a friend last night about her cat rescue—”

  “And that’s another thing,” Mrs. Dawson interrupted, sloshing coffee as she slammed the cup onto the work table. “The family was always going to the doctor. They had allergies about everything. I can’t imagine little Linda growing up to keep a bunch of cats in her house.”

  “Maybe it was food allergies.”

  “No, it was all the environmental ones. I remember standing in line at the pharmacy behind her mother once and half the items in the cart were allergy related,” Mrs. Dawson said, crossing her arms for emphasis. “I ask you, can you think of anything more suspicious?”

  “Not off the top of my head.” Meg shot Kate an “I told you so” look. Kate nodded. She knew when she was defeated.

  MEG DIDN’T GET any more information out of Mrs. Dawson, but this didn’t keep the woman from trying to talk her ear off until Kate finished the measurements. The organizing team had enough time to grab a quick sandwich and change into sturdier clothes than they’d used for the Dawson appointment. Then they headed to the Wilton Apple Farm to get all the bushel baskets of fruit needed for the Halloween games the next evening.

  “You never told me what the girls finally chose for their costumes,” Meg said as they drove through the slushy streets. “I know I have it easier with my boys. Ben always wants to make himself a robot costume, and this year Mark wanted to be a nerd, so all we had to do was root through his father’s closet for a narrow black necktie and buy a pocket protector.”

  “Yes, you did get off lucky. Sam was easy enough. She’s going as a hockey goalie, and we have enough equipment around the house to get her covered on the pro hockey front,” Kate said. “But every costume idea Suze came up with sounded like she needed to be living in south Florida this time of year. Last count, she was down seven ideas and holding out for being a sexy ghost. I told her the ghost part was fine, but the sexy was staying home.”

  “How in the world does someone pull off a sexy ghost?”

  “Beats me, but I obviously need to keep an eye on my little haute couture princess, as she seems to have ideas far above her elementary school age group.”

  “Oh, don’t believe it. Kids are bombarded with suggestive clothing. It’s a wonder we have any tomboys like Sam left.”

  “I hear ya,” Kate said. “I’ve probably been letting her watch too many cable shows to indulge her designing dreams. And I have my own ‘Dancing with the Stars’ addiction which likely doesn’t help. I watch it for the dancing, but she probably only notices the costumes and doesn’t realize how much of the flesh tone she’s seeing is more spandex than skin.”

  “Always something to make us feel guilty.”

  They neared the entrance to the Wilton Apple Farm, and Kate signaled to turn.

  “Saw the van and figured you were coming for the apples,” Mrs. Wilton greeted them, holding out warm cups of cinnamon apple cider with her long, thin fingers.

  “We thought it would be quicker than multiple trips in my car,” Meg said, climbing from the passenger side and hurrying to grab a cup. “Oh, boy, this smells good.”

  The boys took on the task of loading up the back of the van. As the women watched them work, Mrs. Wilton said, “If you need more apples, come on by and ask. If I’m not here one of the boys will mark it down on the form. Don’t you worry any. Take whatever you need, and I’ll get it squared away with the PTA later.”

  Kate sipped the spicy liquid and felt the warmth travel down to her toes. “Oh, Mrs. Wilton, this is wonderful.”

  “Of course it is.” The woman’s grin stretched ear-to-ear with the compliment. “We keep the cider mulling all the time through the winter. And right now, when our bodies still have a memory of summer, we sell even more of it than when we’re buried in snow.”

  “I don’t think I can remember a Halloween or Thanksgiving without Wilton spiced cider in our house,” Meg said. “Mother has always kept it warming on the stove so it’s ready to drink, and keeps her house smelling delicious.”

  “We love being a Hazelton tradition,” Mrs. Wilton said. Then she moved to the rear of the van. “Be careful how you set those, Joe. I don’t want fruit bouncing around Mrs. McKenzie’s van while she’s trying to drive.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the dark haired youth responded, reaching in to reset a basket.

  The boys made quick work of the loading, and Mrs. Wilton topped both the cups of cider before she let Kate and Meg leave, but soon they were on their way again toward the high school gym. Meg phoned the event coordinator as they drove, and when they arrived four football players stood waiting to unload the baskets and carry the fruit inside.

  “This is what I call service,” Meg said, as Polly Perkins, the PTA president, walked up to greet them.

  “We aim to please,” Polly said. Kate glanced at the clipboard the woman held and could see a number of check marks on the top page. Polly consulted the pages a moment then said, “Before I forget, I need to know what costumes you’re wearing, so you’ll be easier to spot during the carnival.”

  “I’m Wonder Woman and Gil is Superman,” Meg said.

  “And I’m Batgirl and my husband is Batman,” Kate added.

  Polly grinned. “Oh good. You don’t know how great it is to not have to hear another clown or witch is coming. I swear those seem to be everyone’s go-to costumes this year.” She finished writing on the page, then turned and waved an arm for them to follow. “The boys will take care of the apples. Follow me and I’ll give you assignments and issue your staple guns and masking tape.”

  The next couple of hours went quickly. Kate and Keith were set to man the “Haunted House” game, where blindfolded kids would wander in the direction of a large haunted house mural painted on to a backboard, with Velcroed ghosts to hide the numbers. When the kids pulled off their ghosts and revealed the number beneath, Kate or Keith would pull a prize from one of the similarly numbered tubs hidden under a table. Meg and Gil were scheduled to man the duck pond in the middle of the gym floor. The kids could choose a rubber ducky, then turn it over to find a similar number system to deter
mine their award.

  “Sounds simple enough,” Kate said, as she and Meg attached sheeting around one of the booths.

  “It is, but you have to watch for crafty kids. Especially the older ones,” Meg said. “This is really set up for elementary age, but their older siblings often tag along. Nothing like a bored junior high kid to create a little chaos.”

  “Ah, I can imagine.” Kate looked at her watch. “It’s almost time to pick up the kids, and I think we’re finished here. You want to go check us out and I’ll get the seats in the van pulled back into position so the kids have places to sit?”

  “Yeah, good idea. See you outside in a few minutes.”

  Kate headed for the door, pulling keys from her pocket as she walked. Her phone buzzed, and she slipped it out of her jeans pocket to find an alert from UPS telling her Keith had a package on their front porch. “Well, he’ll be thrilled.”

  She looked up from the screen in time to avoid a near miss with someone else paying more attention to her phone than where she was walking.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I—” Kate suddenly realized she knew the person she’d thought was a student. “Linda, hi. I didn’t recognize you for a minute.”

  Her words startled the new neighbor, and Linda dropped her phone, the plastic cover hitting the floor and sliding.

  Kate bent over and picked up the phone, handing it to the nervous woman.

  “Thanks, I…just checking messages…” Linda frowned. “Don’t know why I bother. It’s never anything.”

  “Well, it’s good seeing you,” Kate felt her forehead furrow, and forced a smile to keep the moment light as she pointed toward a far corner. “If you’re looking for the event coordinator, Polly’s the one over there with the long ponytail.”

  “Yeah, okay…thank you.” Linda sketched a quick little wave and hurried in the direction opposite from where Polly stood. Toward the hall entrance into the school.