Advance Notice (A River Valley Mystery, book 2)

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Tell your Mom I heard her and hello back.”

  Mom waved a water dripping spoon at me. “Ask her if she wants to join us in this current mystery. It might be good to have a college educated woman helping us.”

  “Mom said…”

  “Tell your mother there is no way on heaven or earth I want to get involved. Gracious, Marsha.”

  “Do y’all want to talk to each other? Because I’m getting a crick in my neck.” I dropped the mushrooms into a colander, shook them, and carried the lot to the table to chop.

  My gaze fell on the paper. Fingers tickled up my spine. What if my name got posted next?

  Or Mom’s?

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, I eyed the unrolled newspaper on the store counter. The information it might contain ate at me. What I should have been doing was keeping an eagle eye on the two teenagers in the store, who most likely skipped school that morning. Instead, they ogled and played with a display of Swarovski crystal earrings Lindsey had made. My daughter had a talent for making jewelry, if these girls’ oohs and aahs were any indication.

  When a van of residents from our local retirement community arrived, I realized it would be a while before I could sit down with the paper. I sighed and plastered on a smile as ten gray-haired ladies pushed through the door. Once inside, they scattered to the four corners in pursuit of their own delights.

  One of the teenagers, oh so casually, slipped a pair of earrings in her pocket. Right out in the open, like I was blind or something. I was more than capable of watching the girls and the older ladies, and resented the girl’s unspoken view of my abilities. I sashayed from behind the counter and stood by the front door. Arms crossed, legs spread shoulder width apart, I glared. “Put them back.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened. “I wasn’t going to steal them. Just keep them there until I finished shopping.”

  “Right.” I pointed. That’s why she headed for the door. “Back. Now.”

  Face red, the girl hung the earrings back on the rack.

  “Y’all take anything else?”

  They shook their heads.

  “Now, leave. You’re no longer welcome in this store. I will look you up in the yearbook so I have names to go with your faces.” I put my customer service smile back in place. “Have a nice day.”

  One of them called me a name that rhymed with witch. The other just glared as if she wanted to stick a knife in my back. No worries. I had a teenage daughter and was quite familiar with evil looks. But, I would still be phoning the high school principal about their ditching.

  Soon, a line formed at the counter as the retirement home van honked outside. The residents bought everything from potholders to a quilt. By the time they left, my smile was no longer forced. It had turned into a very productive morning.

  With the morning quiet again, I picked up the basket of wedding placemats and sat in one of the rocking chairs we had for sale and got to work. In, out, in, out, the needle and silver embroidery thread flashed, and my mind wandered. I really wanted to open that newspaper, but if I did before Mom got back from her shopping trip to replenish our supplies, she’d kill me. Literally.

  I glanced at the clock. She’d been gone for over two hours. Had she left me to mind the store all day again? Since her marriage, Mom seemed more content to stay home with her new husband than tend the shop. I snipped off the thread and grabbed another placemat. Not that I could blame her. Once Duane and I got married, I wouldn’t want to leave home either.

  Why hadn’t I set a wedding date? I loved him without a doubt. Was it because I felt guilty marrying the brother of my late husband? Sure, Duane was my first love, but he’d deserted me to move on to bigger and better things, leaving his brother to pick up the pieces. Was I afraid he would do it again? I shook my head.

  We’d both grown up in the ten years he’d been off to college. Duane loved me with the love of a man now, not a teenage boy. I glanced out the window at the sight of said man. Why wasn’t he at work? And why was he strolling down the sidewalk with Stacy hanging on his arm? I leaped up, placemats falling back into the basket at my feet.

  Duane and Stacy entered the coffee shop across the street. I admitted Duane was probably on his prep time at school, but why would he be spending time with the one person I disliked the most in River Valley? My heart sank. Suddenly, I needed coffee in the worst way.

  After flipping the sign to closed, and a little clock to show I’d return in fifteen minutes, I locked the store door and dashed across the street. Before barging inside like a maniac, I took a moment to breathe deeply and pat my hair into place. As usual, curls escaped my ponytail holder and danced in the abundant joy of freedom.

  I headed straight for the counter where I ordered the largest mocha iced coffee they had, and a slice of lemon pound cake. While I waited, I scanned the room. There they were; in a cozy little corner. By the time the barista handed me my order, my neck burned. Still, I could play things cool. I strolled their way, clamping my teeth around the straw.

  “Duane. Stacy. What a surprise.”

  His face reddened, and he leaped to his feet to pull out a chair. “Stacy is doing an article on the football team. Care to join us?”

  I gave Stacy a simpering smile. “Delegated to high school sports? I’m so sorry.”

  She rolled her eyes. “The newspaper is cutting back on employees, so we all have to cover extra. With all the ways available to get the news electronically, subscriptions are way down.” Her blood red lips parted in a grin. “But, I don’t mind. It gives me the opportunity to reconnect with Duane.”

  “How wonderful.” I slipped my arm around his neck and gave him a kiss he wouldn’t forget anytime soon. “See you for dinner, sweetheart.” With a pat to his cheek that might have been a little too hard for a love tap, I marched out the door and back to the store, feeling every inch the jealous wench that I’d proven to be.

  Resuming my seat in the rocker, coffee in one hand, cake in the other, I continued to stare out the window as tears pricked my eyes. What an idiot I was. Just a harmless interview in a public place. Was I really that insecure? I owed Duane a huge apology, and a time of repentance spent with God.

  Mom breezed through the door, arms loaded with bags and packages. “Look at all the bargains. We can make so many new things for the store.” She dropped her purchases on the counter and took a quick sweep of the store. “Productive morning?”

  “How do you do that? Know with one glance what is bought?” I shoved the last of the cake in my mouth and went to help her unpack.

  “Experience. Besides, if you put everything in its place, it’s easy to spot when something is gone.” She narrowed her eyes and studied my face. “What’s wrong? Is there something in the paper?”

  “I was waiting for you before looking.” I piled several skeins of yarn on the counter, seeing an afghan in my future. “Duane is across the street with Stacy having coffee. He said she’s interviewing him about the football team.”

  “Tell me you didn’t go over there and make a fuss.” Mom planted fists on her hips. “No man wants a jealous woman, Marsha. Either you trust him or you don’t.” Her eyes raked my body. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to start dressing more feminine, either. Overalls are not becoming.”

  But they hide a lot of body imperfections. “I trust him, but I couldn’t help myself. It’s an illness.” The next things out of the bag were several boxes of crystals in every color of the rainbow. Lindsey would be thrilled. “Now, her…I trust about an inch.”

  “You know what I always say. Life is too short for foolishness.” Mom stuffed the empty bag in a container so they could be reused. “Now, let’s look at that paper.” She popped off the rubber band and tossed it into a desk caddy.

  The bell over the door jangled, signaling the arrival of more customers. Mom greeted them with a smile and, when they expressed interest in some crafting books, she moseyed their way to help them decide on a purchase. I started to think we’d
never get to read the obits.

  Duane and Stacy headed back down the sidewalk, Duane casting a somber glance toward Gifts from Country Heaven. Oh, yeah. Apology.

  I fished my cell phone from my purse under the counter and texted him that I was sorry. I watched through the window as he read his text, then gave a thumbs-up toward me. I knew he couldn’t see me, but I waved anyway, my heart lighter.

  Obviously, Thursday was the new senior citizen’s day at the store. Customers drifted in and out all day. It wasn’t until almost closing time that Mom and I were able to open the paper. We bypassed the news and went straight to the obituaries, scanning the list of two names.

  “Do you recognize either of them?” I asked.

  Mom nodded, her face pale under her makeup. “Dotty Baker.”

  “Dead or alive?”

  “Very much alive. We just sold her a book on quilts.” Mom raced out the front of the store, returning within ten minutes with a fuming Dotty in tow.

  Dotty’s pink-tinted hair quivered with rage, reminding me of cotton candy on the end of a paper cone. “Have you gone completely crazy, Gertie? You should never drag a woman away from her date, much less a senior discount dinner at Wanda’s.”

  “You weren’t there yet.” Mom tapped the paper. “Read.”

  “So? It’s obviously a mistake.” Her brow furrowed.

  “Don’t you follow the news?” I asked. “Mae Campbell and Nina Worth both had their names in the obituaries before dying in a gas leak explosion at their house thirty days later.”

  “I don’t have gas in my house,” Dotty explained. “All of the retirement units are run by electricity. Now, Marsha, Gertie, I know the two of you fancy yourselves amateur sleuths, but this time you’ve gone too far. I have a perfectly fine gentleman waiting for me at the diner.” She glanced at her watch. “Thanks to you, I’m late.”

  “You’ll be permanently late if you’re dead!” Gertie poked her in the chest with her forefinger. “Do you think we’ve put your name in there on purpose? You ungrateful old biddy.”

  What exactly was going on here? “Ladies—”

  “I wouldn’t put it past you, you man-stealing—” Dottie’s hair shook harder.

  “Excuse me?” Mom stepped forward until their noses almost touched. “You can’t take something from someone that never belonged to them.”

  Hmmm. Had Mom stolen Dad from Dotty? I thought of Stacy and Duane. How history did tend to repeat itself.

  “Mom, Mrs. Baker, now is not the time or the place to rehash old arguments.” I folded the paper. “This needs to be taken seriously.”

  “I don’t have time right now,” Dotty said. “I’ve got a good thing going with my present boyfriend, and I don’t intend to let Nancy Drew and Miss Marple ruin it.” She took a deep breath and fumbled in her purse, bringing out a tube of lipstick the same shade of pink as her hair. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, according to the two of you, I only have thirty days to bring this man to the altar.”

  “Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Dottie, dear.” Mom tilted her chin. “Only the Lord suffers a fool.”

  “Leave me alone, Gertie. After dinner, I’m reporting you two to Officer Barnett. What an evil game you’re playing just to get noticed in the River Valley News. Again.” With those words, she flounced out of the store.

  Mom and I glanced at each other, then shrugged. “We did what we could,” Mom said. “She’s never been the shiniest button in the jar.”

  “You know as well as I do, that she’s going to be killed next.” I rattled the paper. “We can’t let that happen.”

  “I’ll talk to her again, when she’s calmed down.” Mom smirked. “I probably didn’t present things to her in the best way possible.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Come with me if you want to live.”

  Chapter Five

  I mixed a salad for supper and kept glancing at the front door, waiting—hoping—for Duane to arrive. I’d taken his thumbs up as assurance he wasn’t angry with me for my childish actions in the coffee shop. Maybe I’d interpreted the gesture wrong. Maybe it was only a sign that we would be talking, with me doing most of the listening. Sighing, I chopped through a red bell pepper until I had nothing but a diced pile on the chopping board.

  “Foolish woman.” Mom came inside from the back porch and slammed the phone handset on the receiver. “I tried again to explain to Dotty about her impending danger, but she hung up on me.” Mom crossed her arms and glared at the phone. “Says we’re making things up in order to get our names in the paper again. Stupid!”

  “There’s nothing we can do about it. We tried to tell her.” If we were right, guilt would be almost overwhelming, despite knowing we’d done all we could. Especially, if something happened to the stubborn woman. There had to be a way to save Dotty before the month ran out.

  I sensed Duane before I saw him. It amazed me how the air changed the moment he walked into a room. All my senses tingled. I whirled as he leaned against the kitchen doorframe, crooked smile on his face.

  “I’m so sorry.” Dropping the butcher knife onto the counter, I threw myself into his arms.

  “You silly woman.” He led me to a chair, then sat me on his lap. “There is no one but you. You hold my heart in your hands. Without you, my heart would never recover.”

  Sighing, I buried my face in the crook of his neck. A spot God had made just for me. “That woman has always made me behave like a crazy person.”

  “It’s just an interview.” His arms tightened around me. “I’m sure there will be more. You need to trust me, Marsha.”

  “I do. It’s her I don’t trust.” My voice was muffled.

  “So you’ve said.” He chuckled and set me on my feet, then turned me to face him. His smile faded. “Now, to change the subject. Tell me you and Gertie aren’t going to try and solve another mystery. Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

  “Yes, I remember, but if we don’t do something, Dotty will die. I’m convinced of it.”

  He sighed. “I know you well enough to know you’re going to do what you want, but I can still hope you’ll be smart about it.”

  I bent and planted a kiss on his forehead. “I won’t do anything stupid.”

  “Of course not.” He gave me a playful swat on the rear. “Now get to cooking, woman. I’m starving. Sexy reporters who want to interview me always give me an appetite.”

  “Ha. I ought not to feed you after that remark.”

  “But you will.”

  “Yes, I will.” I tapped his nose with my forefinger and stood. Straightening the bib on my overalls, I wondered whether Mom was right. Maybe I should wear a dress once in a while, or maybe a nice pair of capris. Then, I could set Duane’s heart to fluttering the same way he did mine.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Mom asked as I strolled into the kitchen.

  “I’m thinking of getting rid of the overalls.” I opened the cabinet and pulled out five glasses.

  Mom felt my forehead. “Are you sick?”

  “Stop it.” I set the glasses around the table. “Aren’t you the one who’s always saying I should dress more like a woman?”

  “You never listen to anything I say. Get you some of those jeans with the sparkles on the butt.” Mom pulled the steak from the broiler, set it on top of the stove, then marched to the back door. “Time to eat!”

  Now all the neighbors knew. I shook my head and finished setting the table at the same time I heard Lindsey thunder across the porch. Leroy followed her, then Duane appeared from the living room. My family was complete.

  Conversation ceased for the first few minutes of supper. Then, Leroy shattered the peace. “So, what did you two women do at the shop today?”

  “Uh.” Mom glanced at me and stuck a bite of meat in her mouth.

  “We were very busy.” I grinned. “The retirement home sent over a van full of citizens to spend their hard-earned retirement checks in our store.”

  “That’
s great.” He glanced around the kitchen. “I looked for the newspaper this morning, but couldn’t find it. Did someone move it?”

  Mom choked. She always was subtle.

  I reached over and pounded on her back. “I didn’t move it.” Well, I didn’t, really. It sat on the counter all day, right where Mom left it.

  Duane studied me over the rim of his glass. “There’s something you aren’t telling us. Marsha. You’re a horrible liar.”

  “I took the paper.” Mom took a deep breath, then a gulp of milk. “We wanted to look at the obituaries. Sorry, Leroy. I didn’t even think how you enjoy the paper with your morning coffee.”

  “I almost called the newspaper office to have them deliver another one,” he said.

  “So,” Duane wiped his mouth with his napkin. “What’s in the obits?”

  “Dotty Baker.” Mom leaned forward. “Her name is in the obits, and she’s very much alive and angry with me.”

  Mom had a tendency to run off at the mouth like a tsunami when cornered. I closed my eyes and let her go.

  “Why, the very moment we saw her name, I tracked her down. She’d just bought some things from us. I warned her, but instead of being alarmed, do you know what she did?” Without waiting for a response, she continued. “She got angry with me for making her late for a date. Imagine that.”

  “Imagine that.” Duane tossed his napkin on his plate and stood. “Marsha, may I speak with you outside, please?”

  Uh-oh. I expelled a deep breath and nodded. Lindsey chose that moment to start clearing off the table and avoided my gaze. I stood and followed Duane’s ramrod-straight back to the yard.

  He continued to the back fence, then gripped the top rail. “You’re going to get involved.”

  “How can I not? Bruce doesn’t believe there’s anything to be concerned about.” I stood with my back against the wood rail and stared into his stony face. “I can’t stand back and let another woman die.”

  “I’ll talk to Bruce. Convince him to call in backup. Even he has to consider the fact now that two women have died.” He glanced at me.