Advance Notice (A River Valley Mystery, book 2)

by Cynthia Hickey

  Spyglass Lane Mysteries presents:

  A River Valley Mystery

  Book Two

  Advance Notice

  By

  Cynthia Hickey

  Copyright 2013

  Spyglass Lane Mysteries

  Discover other Spyglass Lane titles at SpyglassLaneMysteries.com.

  Published in association with MacGregor Literary Inc., Portland, Oregon.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 Biblica. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.

  Acknowledgements :

  This book is for all my fans

  who eagerly awaited the sequel to Deadly Neighbors,

  to my husband for his unfailing support,

  To God for the never ending cornucopia of ideas

  Chapter One

  “I am clearly not dead, Marsha Calloway. I’m standing right here.” Mrs. Nina Worth shook a newspaper in my face. “But the obits clearly state I died two days ago from suspicious circumstances.”

  Where was Duane with my car? I stood on tiptoe, trying in vain to stretch my five-foot-two-inch body enabling me to see over the people milling in the church parking lot. “What would you have me do, Mrs. Worth? Why don’t you call the newspaper and explain the mistake?”

  “I want you to stop me from dying!” She wagged the paper closer to my nose. “Suspicious circumstances, Martha. That’s ominous. And don’t forget that poor Mae died three months ago, after seeing her name in the obits.”

  “That was ruled an accident.” Oh, where was Duane? “Her stove exploded.”

  “Coincidence, I think not.” Nina took a deep breath, her hands shaking. “When I wind up dead, you’ll have no one but yourself to blame, girlie!” She stalked off in pumps the color of Big Bird from Sesame Street. One of the bird’s feathers fluttered from the silly over-sized hat she wore.

  I shuddered at the eerie warning the floating feather seemed to give. The feather landed in a puddle and sank.

  Nina over-reacted. There was no other explanation. Besides, why would she think I could do anything? Just because I solved a crime spree six months ago, did not make me a detective. Duane would kill me if I got involved in another mystery. He’d probably call off our wedding, if I had a date planned.

  Why I hadn’t decided on a date was beyond me. I loved the man with everything in me. You’d think I’d rush to be his wife. I sat on a concrete bench to ponder the reason while I waited for Duane. If he got stuck talking football, and since he was the high school football coach, it was a distinct possibility, I could be waiting for quite a while.

  I dug my phone out of my purse and texted him. Where are you?

  Mom, my daughter, Lindsey, and Mom’s new husband, Leroy, all waved and climbed into Mom’s giant white Cadillac. On their way to Wanda’s Diner, no doubt. My stomach rumbled. Maybe I should have them come back and get me. Duane could meet us there.

  Just as I was ready to call for them to return, Duane pulled up in my sky-blue Prius. I loved that car. Especially after what I’d endured getting it. Nothing like murder to make a purchase sweeter.

  “Let’s go to Wanda’s,” I suggested, sliding into the passenger side. “I’m pretty sure the rest of my family is headed there.”

  He leaned over to give me a kiss. “Sorry, I’m late. The pastor cornered me, and we argued about the Dallas Cowboy’s merits. Of which I told him they had none.” He grinned.

  “Of course you did.” My Pittsburgh Steeler loving boyfriend would do no less. “Nina Worth thinks she’s dying because some prankster put her name in the obituary column of the newspaper.”

  “Why’d she hunt you down?” He drove the car from the parking lot and onto the highway.

  “I’m guessing she wants me to find out why.”

  He cut me a sideways glance. “No more mysteries, Marsha. I’m serious.”

  “I won’t.” I chewed my pinkie nail. “But doesn’t it strike you as strange? Especially after Mae Campbell’s death?”

  “She had a gas leak.” His tone told me the discussion was over. “Leave it to the police.”

  I sighed and stared out the window until we pulled up at the Diner. As I’d suspected, my family was there. Mom’s caddy took up two parking spots.

  Duane and I exited the car and walked inside the diner, his hand warm on the small of my back. I’d never get tired of his touch. He still gave me goose bumps and sent my heart into overdrive.

  “We knew you two would show up.” Mom motioned for us to sit in the two empty chairs at the table. “This is becoming a regular Sunday event. Wanda must be so pleased.”

  “The place is busy, that’s for sure.” I stepped aside while Duane pulled out my chair. “Y’all must have called ahead.”

  “I did,” Leroy said.

  “What did Nina want?” Mom hooked her purse on the back of her chair. “She looked upset.”

  “Her name is in the obituaries.” I blew a kiss at Lindsey, grateful for any time my teenager would spend in my company.

  “Like Mae’s?” Mom’s eyes widened. “That’s a bad omen, Marsha. You know it is.”

  Duane sighed and reached for a menu. “Here we go.”

  “Oh, stop.” I slapped his shoulder. “I told her to call the paper and explain the mistake. Obviously, she isn’t dead, and she looked healthy enough to me.”

  “Another mystery to solve sounds like fun.” Mom folded her arms on the table.

  “No!” Duane and Leroy yelled in unison, attracting the attention of everyone within hearing distance.

  “Hush.” Mom frowned. “You’re making a scene. What if something happens to Nina? It’ll be our fault for not taking her seriously. I always thought something was fishy about Mae’s gas leak. That townhouse of hers was only ten years old.”

  “Gas leaks can happen anytime,” Duane explained. “I don’t want Marsha involved.”

  Mom and I exchanged exasperated looks. Men. “It won’t hurt to make a phone call,” I insisted. “Just one tiny call to the newspaper.”

  “Or one call a day to check on Nina.” Mom pointed her finger at him. “Folks like to know people care. She’s an old woman who doesn’t have anything outside of church and that quilting club she belongs to.”

  “Quilting club?” First I’d heard of it. “Do they buy their supplies from us?” Most crafters around River Valley spent their craft dollars at Gifts from Country Heaven. Mom made me her official partner two months ago, giving me a sense of pride in the store. Owner sounded much better than employee.

  “Yes, Marsha. No need for you to hound them. They meet there once a month to plan their projects, but they need a place to meet when they actually work on them, so they don’t have to house hop. Leroy is going to build a back room onto the shop, and we can rent it out to crafters. Isn’t that a great idea?”

  “It is.” I raised my eyebrows. Usually, Mom asked me for the new ideas. I shrugged. The newness of her newlywed status would wear off soon enough. No reason for me to feel as if my toes were getting stepped on. Besides, if Leroy wanted a part in the business, it made less work for me.

  Duane grabbed my hand under the table and gave it a loving squeeze. As usual, he’d read my
mind and felt the need to reassure me. I smiled, returned his squeeze, and turned to the waitress. “A bacon cheeseburger, no onions, and sweet potato fries. Oh, and a large Diet Coke. Thanks.” I handed her the laminated menu and sat back while the others ordered.

  Bruce Barnett, River Valley’s very own Barney Fife, barged through the diner doors, his skinny chest puffed out like a Banty rooster. He scanned the room with a narrow-eyed gaze, then marched to a stool at the counter. The man always acted as if everything was an emergency.

  I glanced out the window. He’d parked his squad car behind Mom’s Cadillac. Here we go again. He’d take a leisurely lunch, making sure she waited a sufficient amount of time, as punishment for taking up two prime parking spots. Why didn’t he give Mom a parking ticket and stop the silly feud?

  “The nerve of that man!” Mom stood up fast enough to send her chair crashing into the person sitting behind her. “Sorry,” she tossed over her shoulder before marching to the lunch counter. “Move your car this instant.”

  Bruce sipped his mug of coffee, acting as if he couldn’t hear her, which he could. I’m sure folks in the next county could hear her. “Excuse me, Mrs. Bohan? Do you have a problem I can help with?”

  “You heard me.” Mom planted fists on her rounded hips. “You deliberately blocked my car.”

  “The same way you deliberately took up two parking spots.” He carefully set his mug back in its saucer.

  “That is to prevent dings in my paint job.”

  “Still not acceptable.”

  “Not against the law.”

  “It’s rude.”

  Good grief. I stood and gave Mom ‘the look’. “Get back over here before Wanda kicks us out.” I turned to glare at Leroy. “Control your wife.”

  His bushy eyebrows almost disappeared under his hairline. “There’s no controlling her, you know that. I’ve resigned myself to the fact it’s only a matter of time before I have to bail her out of jail.”

  By this time, Mom and Bruce were standing nose-to-nose. They looked like two schoolyard kids having a staring contest.

  “For crying out loud!” I stomped over and pulled Mom back to her seat. “Act your age. You’re setting a bad example for your granddaughter.”

  “No, she isn’t,” Lindsey said, dipping a French fry into a glob of ketchup. “I think it’s hilarious. All my friends love Grandma.”

  I hadn’t noticed lunch being delivered while I refereed Mom and our Deputy Do-Right, but my stomach growled in appreciation as I sat down and hefted the quarter-pounder burger. I bit into beef perfection. A blob of ketchup plopped onto my chest. I sighed and grabbed a napkin. My natural food catchers never failed to do their job. Now, my favorite teal blouse had a stain.

  “I can get that out.” Mom waved a fork full of potato salad at me. “Oxy-Clean, that’s the way to do laundry.”

  “Yes, I know.” I kept my eye on her waving utensil, expecting a face full of her lunch at any moment.

  Leroy must have seen the panic on my face, because he lowered Mom’s arm and winked. “Yes, Gertie, you’re an undisputed wonder at doing laundry.”

  “And don’t anyone forget it. I could teach lessons and make a good living, probably.” She stared into space. “The next Queen of …Whatever. Laundry doesn’t sound quite right, does it?”

  The bell over the diner’s front door jingled and Nina marched in and right over to Bruce. She tapped her foot, muttered something I couldn’t hear, and stormed back out to the parking lot. I craned my neck to see what she’d do next.

  She glanced right then left, and then proceeded to beat Bruce’s squad car with her purse. I paused from eating, a sweet potato fry halfway to my mouth. By this time, everyone in the diner had their attention focused outside. Bruce cursed, grabbed his hat and dashed outside. He grabbed Nina’s arm and attempted to pull her away from his car.

  She kicked him in the shin with one of her yellow Big Bird shoes.

  “Wow.” I lunged to my feet and outside into the fray, dodging Duane’s arm as it shot out to stop me. This was better entertainment than going to the movies.

  “That’s assault.” Bruce rubbed his shin.

  “Then arrest me.” Nina hit him in the head.

  I skidded to a halt. “What’s going on?”

  “I want to go to jail.” Nina tilted her chin and crossed her arms. “This…this…baboon, refuses to arrest me.” She raised her hand to strike again.

  “Stop hitting me, you old bat!” Bruce unhooked his handcuffs from his belt. “You want to go to jail, fine. You’re going to jail.”

  “Thank you, Jesus!” Nina grinned, showing a gap in her bottom teeth.

  “Wait.” I stepped up and took her arm, peering into her face. “Why do you want to go to jail?”

  “Well, I figure they’ll keep me for about thirty days for assaulting a police officer.” She ducked her head as Bruce put her in the back of his car. “Once that thirty days is over, I’m safe. Mae died exactly thirty days after her obit appeared in the paper.”

  Chapter Two

  I pulled into the parking lot of the police station and cut the engine. Nina had managed to convince the judge to sentence her to exactly thirty days in jail. Now, here I was to give her a ride home. I figured the peace of the last month was about to be shattered.

  Since she’d called me over thirty minutes ago, I’d expected her to be outside waiting. Yet, the autumn wind blew and there was no sign of Nina and her bright yellow clothes. I sighed and shoved open my car door.

  “Yoo hoo!” Oh, there she was. Nina bounded down the steps. “Thank you so much for picking me up. Isn’t it a glorious day?” She slid into the passenger seat.

  “Yes, it is,” I said, closing my door. “A bit chilly, though.”

  “Not compared to those jail cells. Do you know that they only let the inmates wear thin cotton shirts and pants? Kind of like what nurses wear, but not as nice of quality. And that pea green color. Oh, my.” Nina set her purse in her lap. “You know I’m partial to yellow. Bruce wouldn’t even check to see if the uniforms came in yellow. He is a rude little man.”

  I listened to Nina continue to rant about the lack of proper food and the hard cot she’d slept on for the ten minutes it took for me to drive her home. I pulled onto the gravel drive leading to her house, then stopped in front of the garage. “Do you want me to come in and check things out for you?”

  Her eyes widened. “No, that’s probably not necessary. Although, I was wondering whether I should’ve had the judge hold me that one extra day. Today is the thirtieth day.” She scrunched her mouth to the side. “I’ll be fine. Mae died on the twenty-ninth day and was found on the thirtieth day, I think. Although, I could be wrong. Now, I’m just being silly. You go on home.”

  “How about I call you later?” My head was spinning from her calculations. If today were the thirtieth day, wouldn’t that mean she should’ve stayed in jail until tomorrow?

  “That’s sweet of you. Call me around eight.” Nina exited my car, slammed the door, I hated that, then hurried to unlock her front door.

  The explosion rocked my car and belted it with gravel. Nina flew backward as if attached to a rope and yanked. I screamed and ducked as far as the steering wheel would allow. Nina! I shoved open my door, crawled out, and raced toward the house. My ears rang. My legs wobbled, giving me a weird lurch as I ran.

  Flames shot out the door, gobbling the wood porch stretched along the house. I suspected the use of an accelerant, but couldn’t stop to investigate. I also needed to stop watching so many crime shows.

  Nina lay under a magnolia tree as if she were taking an afternoon nap. I fell to my knees beside her, the ground damp on the knees of my jeans, and felt for a pulse in the side of her neck that wasn’t horribly burned. Nothing. The concussion of the blast probably killed her instantly, thank the Lord. To be conscious while her skin charred would be pain unmentionable. By the time I got to my feet, sirens wailed in the distance.

  I no longer believed
the names in the obituary column to be a coincidence. Once again, something was rotten in River Valley. Now, for me to convince the authorities of which there were few. With budget cuts and a town that mostly slumbered with no crime, our police force consisted of one Bruce Barnett.

  Bruce arrived a split second before the fire truck that roared to a stop in front of the burning house. He stared at me over his steering wheel. His shoulders slumped before he shook his head and exited the squad car. “I feel sorry for Duane,” he said marching past me. “Trouble follows you.”

  “I had nothing to do with this.” I jogged to keep up with him. “I brought Mrs. Worth home, she unlocked her door, and BAM! She’s dead under the magnolia tree.”

  “And yet, here you are.” He turned so fast, we bumped noses. “Go home, Marsha. I’ll be by later to fill out the report.”

  “I already told you everything.” Did he not listen when I talked? “Except for the fact that today is thirty days after the announcement in the obituaries. Same as Mae Campbell. It is no longer a coincidence.”

  “Stop looking for a mystery. All the homes in this part of the city are old and probably not built to code. Go home.”

  “But—”

  “Now! And don’t leave town. I have questions for you. A lot of them.”

  “Fine!” If he wasn’t so dense, it might have occurred to him that it was strange for Nina’s gas to be on when she’d been gone for a month. She didn’t strike me as a woman who would be that careless. Also, he might have stopped to wonder why the house blew up when she unlocked the door. But, since he was being such an obnoxious jerk, I wouldn’t say a thing about a possible trap. Let him figure it out for himself. “I’m leaving.”

  I marched back to my car, tried to ignore all the pings in my doors and hood, and peeled out of the driveway, scattering my own fair share of rocks. Bruce Barnett made me so angry! Not to mention the horrible fact I’d watched a woman die. Put those two facts together, and my hands shook so hard I was afraid of driving into the ditch.