Murder At The Knife's Edge: A Mystic Pines Mystery

by T. G. Hanson

  Nyla looked like Meg had just asked her to sweep the floor. “Why absolutely not! I've worked hard to make it to the top of the list and I intend to be right back at the top after tonight! According to my tally I only need tonight's win to do that.”

  With a frown, Nyla turned away from Meg, and began clucking away to her friends, pointing out the obvious fact that she, was once again, right and that was why she led the book club group.

  ******

  The ladies had decided to look for books first then have lunch and were browsing the shelves when Myra walked over to Meg and grabbed her by the elbow. “Oh Meg, I know I’ve said it before but I just love how you created this special little reading spot for our club. Why it’s prettier than those fancy bookstores in Houston.”

  Meg smiled while handing Myra a book. “Thanks so much Myra. I’m so glad you like it and I hope you know you’re welcome to use the area anytime, it’s not just for when you’re here with the club.”

  Myra had taken a seat in one of the comfy winged back chairs and propped her feet up. “Nyla, girls, come on back here and let’s have a chat.”

  The rest of the group walked down the main isle, to the back of the shop to find Myra.

  At the end of the aisle was a group of six comfy winged back chairs, with matching small footstools. The chairs were arranged in two groups of three chairs each, all facing each other. Small end tables with tall reading lamps had been placed between the chairs.

  As the ladies came back to the reading area, Meg handed them a copy of the same book she had given Myra. “This is a great series by James Patterson called the Women’s Murder Club and you are all holding the first book in the series. I thought you might try it for your next book club read.”

  Helen had walked up behind the group and was pointing to a sheet that had been hung up on the wall. “Meg, what’s this old sheet doing hanging on the wall here? I’m no Suzie Homemaker but even I know this don’t look so nice here.”

  Laughing Meg walked over and while pulling the sheet down, turned to address all the ladies. “You’re right Helen but I was saving this as a surprise. I just arrived yesterday. If you all will kindly look this way and read the sign on top please.”

  As the sheet fell away the ladies saw a nice wooden bookshelf, like the others that lined the rest of the walls in the shop, but a bit fancier with a gold ornate plaque at the top. “This, ladies, is where I’ll be putting copies of all the books your club reads. I just thought it would be nice to see them all in one place and maybe it could be like a suggested author showcase, endorsed by your club.”

  Helen was smiling and clapped her hands. “Oh my, this is very nice isn’t it girls? And look, our plaque is much nicer than those signs on the other shelves.” The plaque had three lines of engraved text on it. She read the plaque off to the others . . . Mystic Pines, Widows Watch Book Club, Suggested Authors.

  The group was thrilled with the special shelf and plaque Meg had made for them and thanked her with smiles and hugs. “And now ladies, if you will excuse me, I’ve got to get back to work and prepare for tonight. Have fun browsing the shop and feel free to add books to your special shelf, as you like.” Walking away from the group Meg could hear them discussing what books to add.

  Shortly afterwards, the group of ladies paid for their purchases, including the book Meg had suggested, and moved on over to the diner for their lunch. Helen, lagging behind the group turned and ran up to Meg giving her a huge hug.

  “Why Helen, what on earth was that for?”

  “Because sweetie, I know Nyla can be a bit pushy sometimes. She doesn't mean anything by it, it's just her way.”

  “Oh Helen, I know and no harm done” Meg replied smiling.

  “Well I just think you are a dear and you shouldn't have to put up with Nyla's nonsense is all. You’ve had enough to worry about.” Helen turned away and headed back to the group. Smiling, Meg turned, and walked back up to the register.

  “What was all that about” asked Daisy.

  “Oh just Helen being protective over me. I think she has sort of adopted me to watch over” laughed Meg. “Maybe she just needs someone to mother.”

  A few hours later, with their lunch finished, Nyla stopped back by the bookstore, on her way out the door. “Meg dear, I almost forgot, I have this tin I found while cleaning out some of Frank’s things and thought you might like it for the diner. I'll just leave it here with Daisy”.

  Nyla placed the tin on the counter, frowning at Daisy’s now purple hair, as she walked out the door. That young woman has no clue, she thought to herself. She would have stopped and said something to the girl but she needed to hurry on home so she would have time for a little nap. Her mind needed to be sharp for the Mystery Dinner tonight if she was going to win.

  Daisy couldn’t believe her eyes. Right there in front of her was the TIN! Thinking back, Daisy remembered Frank Hanson, Nyla’s husband and Henry Means sitting in the old diner one night. They were discussing this very tin and how there was money hidden inside. She wasn’t for sure it was real but sure enough, there it sat. I wonder just how much money might be inside that thing.

  Not long after, Meg walked by, picked up the tin and headed into the diner to speak with Randy. Daisy, watching her walk away, with the tin, began to wipe down the reading table furiously. All the while she was thinking to herself, If I can get my hands on that tin, then I’ll have all the money I need. Kevin and I could get married or at the very least, I can get out of this backwards town.

  SEVEN

  Nyla liked nothing better than to curl up on her favorite old comfy chair, with her feet propped up, and read the night away. She never missed a Wednesday night Mystery Dinner, except for that bout with the flu and always reserved her place by purchasing her ticket ahead of time, for the next scheduled dinner.

  She was very proud that her name had been at the top of Meg's winners list for so long and it put a thorn in her side that Meg would even think of suggesting that someone else might have a turn at the top!

  With an air of superiority, she smoothed down her silver colored hair on the sides and thought, Fair is fair and if it happens that I’m better at solving the mysteries than others, well so be it. Charles better watch out because tonight I’m gonna knock him right off the top of that list!

  Nyla's home, like the others on Marple Lane, was a quaint wood framed house with two small bedrooms and a single bathroom at the back of the house. One large rectangular room in the front of the house included a sitting area on one end and a kitchen on the other. There was just enough room for a small table and two chairs to the right of the kitchen, for her modest meals.

  Most of the homes in Mystic Pines had been built by one of several builders and it seemed, without much imagination. Each street had its own theme where individual houses were distinguished only by the choice of paint colors or brick.

  Each had a large window off the living room that faced the street and a small window over the kitchen sink that faced the alley behind the house. A smaller round window had been used in the bathroom with a single window in each bedroom offering a view of your neighbor’s house. A small covered porch, just large enough for a rocking chair and small side table, jutted off the front.

  The house wasn't grand by anyone's standard, but Nyla loved it. What she loved the most was that her street was named after her very favorite mystery sleuth, Miss Marple. She could still remember the day she stepped through the front door over forty years ago, the day she married her husband Frank.

  After her husband died she saw no reason to move. She and Frank had not been blessed with children, so there were none to move close to and the house was paid for. Between social security and some savings in the bank, she lived a modest, but comfortable life.

  Only four short months ago Frank had come home from his weekly lunch at the diner with their neighbor Henry, complaining he felt sick. He climbed into bed and never left, passing away two days later.

  Old Doc Manford decla
red it was the “bad flu” that took Frank but Nyla didn't care about the how. She just knew that her Frank was gone and her life would be different from then onward.

  ******

  Nyla spent her mornings tidying up her house and having coffee, while catching up with her friends over the phone. On most days, if it wasn't too hot, you could find her sitting on the front porch with a glass of sweet tea and book in hand. If the day turned out cloudy or it rained, you could see her sitting in her big chair by the front window, book in hand, looking as if she were totally engrossed.

  To anyone walking by it would appear Nyla was in deep concentration reading her book. In reality, she pretended to read, while secretly watching the neighbors and others who strolled by on their daily walks. She only lowered the book when someone stopped to chat or if she saw something interesting through someone else's window. She would then raise her book and go right back to her pretense of reading.

  It often made her laugh to herself, this pretense of hers. She always managed to discover a few interesting things when others thought she wasn't paying attention. Things she just loved to share with her friends at their weekly get-together. And boy, had she seen some things these past few years!

  In the evenings, Nyla would eat an early meal, clean up and then watch re-runs of her favorite TV shows for a few hours. If she was lucky, she would find an episode or two of Miss Marple or Midsomer Murders. Not being one to turn in early, Nyla would then pick up her latest book and read for a while, sometimes into the wee hours, if the book was especially good.

  She considered herself lucky. She had her friends, her books, and TV shows. AND, her name was going to be back at the top of the Mystery Dinner winners list very soon!

  ******

  Nyla's days and nights generally passed uneventfully. The only bothersome thing in her life had happened recently, when she had to have words with her neighbor Henry Means, the town recluse.

  Just like today, when she came home and found him at her house once again. When she would question him as to why he was creeping around her house, he would go off in a tantrum, begin mumbling to himself, and storm back to his house. Nyla, not having a clue why Henry was so upset, just chalked it up to crazy. Twice she had to threaten to call the police to get Henry to leave.

  For the most part, she rarely heard a peep out of Henry. Considering the walls in these homes were not that thick, and one could generally hear the neighbor’s TV or loud conversations on a still night, she often wondered what Henry did in the evenings.

  She knew he had that internet thing and a computer, because she had seen that cable company van in his driveway one day. Perhaps he spent his time looking at things online. Whatever it was he was doing, there were lots of flashy lights involved. She knew this because when she read in bed at night, she could often see the flashes of light shining thru her window, coming from Henry's window.

  These events were often a topic of conversation at her weekly book club meetings. Like today, when her friends asked why she hadn't gone to Sheriff Briggs and reported Henry. "He's just a harmless mixed up man and not worth all the trouble of calling the Sheriff. He’s never tried to hurt me or scare me, it’s more that he just annoys me.”

  The girls couldn’t believe it, “but still Nyla, what if he like breaks in or something and you’re at home. Don’t you worry he might do something?” they asked.

  “No not really,” she had told the group, “The last time it happened Helen ran across the street waving that over-sized fly swatter she got on that shopping channel. She was threatening to hit Henry with it if he didn't stop bothering me. Old Henry was ducking here and there, trying to get out of the way of that big ole fly swatter, and Helen was just swinging away at him. Why she chased him all the way to his front porch with it one day! At one point, she managed to smack Henry on his bare arm and it left a good mark.”

  The girls had a good laugh at Helen and her huge fly-swatter. Being twice the size of a normal one and made from thick heavy plastic, it was like one of those gag gifts you bought for friends.

  Nyla grinned, remembering the scene. What in the heck Helen thought she was going to do with a fly swatter, over-sized or not, was beyond Nyla. Just the thought of Helen swatting away and Henry ducking with one arm up in the air would make her laugh enough to almost wet herself!

  ******

  Helen Bells had lived in Mystic Pines her entire life. At eighteen her parents had been killed in an auto accident, leaving her to remain at home and take care of her much younger brother, Wayne. With no working skills, other than sacking groceries at the Piggly Wiggly, she had remained there working double shifts, to make ends meet. By the time Wayne was old enough to leave home, he joined the Army and never came back.

  Between the long work hours and caring for her brother, Helen had no social life and simply fell into living on her own, never marrying. She had remained in the home she had grown up in, across the street from Nyla.

  Helen never minded that she’d not found anyone special. Being so sweet natured and bubbly, people were naturally drawn to her so she had many friends.

  Being close in age, she and Nyla had formed a friendship shortly after Nyla and Frank had moved into their house. Helen would often cross the street to visit and have dinner with them or sit on the front porch to chat. The two had remained the best of friends and thought of each other as sisters. They still crossed the street to visit daily and it seemed to the others in their group, that the two were always getting into some type of mischief together.

  Once, they had a heated discussion about which was better in a casserole, whole or cut green beans, in the back of the Piggly Wiggly. One thing led to another and they wound up in the back room, so engrossed in their discussion, that they didn't notice the store was closing. The next thing they knew, they were locked in the store for the night.

  Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, one of them managed to set off the alarm somehow and the Sheriff, expecting a burglar, had found them in the back room with a box of pop tarts and a bottle of wine, each laughing hysterically.

  One of Helen’s hobbies was reading all the gossip columns and following movie stars in the online papers and magazines. She had followed all the articles she could find about Emily Rhodes and her family tragedy, from the beginning to the end.

  It was so sad the way the parents had died in that plane crash, she thought. And then there were always those articles about the boy, Emily’s brother. That one was a real stinker for sure.

  Helen had recognized Emily right away; the day Lynn had introduced them to her. Since the girl had changed her name, and after reading everything she had, Helen had decided she best just keep quiet about what she knew. She had watched Meg and by the time her group was leaving, she had decided that if the girl had to run away and change her name, well she most likely had a darn good reason. It was at that point that Helen decided the girl needed someone to watch out for her and that she was the one for the job.

  ******

  Nyla walked in the house and dropped her new book purchases on the small table by the door. She hung the keys up on the wall and walked into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of sweet tea. Wiping the perspiration from her forehead she remarked out loud: “Whew, it must be a hundred degrees out there today!” She would have walked to the diner like the Doc said she needed to for the exercise, but it was just too darn hot today. Walking in the morning wasn’t so bad, but this afternoon sun, why it could melt the soles of your shoes right to the pavement, she thought.

  With her glass of iced tea in hand, she fell into the sofa to look over her new books. She needed to pick the next book for the club to read. One by one she picked the books up reading the information on the jackets.

  Meg had suggested a new series to the group, The Women’s Murder Group by James Patterson and the girls had all bought the first book in the series. Maybe she would take Meg’s suggestion and they would start the series this month. She'd call the girls to let them know of h
er choice and then try to get a short nap in before getting ready for tonight's event.

  She was excited about tonight in hopes that Meg would be offering the room box as an added prize. Nyla had more of them than anyone else and she displayed them with pride.

  Little did she know that tonight would be one dinner she wouldn't forget for a long time to come!

  EIGHT

  Henry Means had grown up in Mystic Pines on the cheap side of town. His parents were not well educated nor were they well off. His mother stayed at home while his father worked at the factory in the next town over. They never had much but his mother saw that his clothes were clean and that he attended school as was required. They were older, not having Henry till their late thirties after several attempts at having children.

  Conversation was not real important in the Means’ household. They seemed to only speak when it was necessary and the rest of the time, they were all off in their own little world. Henry still remembered what would turn out to be the longest conversation he ever had with his father.

  “Son, don't ever marry, and leave town as soon as you can. There is nothing here in Mystic Pines for you and if you don't leave when you're young, you’ll wind up stuck here with an ugly woman and kids and will never get out.”

  A month later his father dropped dead at the factory from a heart attack. His mother would soon follow his father dying from the “bad flu”.

  He wasn’t sure why everyone called it the “bad flu” as it seemed to him any type flu was bad. Maybe it was because it was a hard one on older people and the town had lost quite a few older folks to it at the time.