by Misty Simon
“He won’t go home?” I squeaked, feeling bad for Martha and Dad. I’d had Stan stay at my place for weeks, and it had been hell on my personal time. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like having an invalid there.
I was almost positive she saw the chink in my armor and started pounding away at it. “No privacy. I can barely go to the bathroom without him calling for water or tea. Meals have to be prepared special, apparently, and I’ve barely seen your father since we got released from the Barn last night.”
Part of me smirked inside, thinking I knew exactly how she felt. Wasn’t it a bitch to have the tables turned? But then I couldn’t hold onto that for long, since I really liked Martha, and I wouldn’t have wished something like this on even my worst enemy.
“Okay,” I mumbled into my chest.
“What? Please say that was an okay—please.” She was wringing her hands, and I felt like slime for even trying to weasel out of this.
“Oh, okay.” Flapping my hands down at my side, I stomped into the next room, where Horace was snoring on the couch. “Fine, I will do this, but you have to help me figure something out, too.”
“Anything,” she said quickly. I almost wished I had a bigger request.
But I stuck with the original because it was important. “All right, if I help with finding out what’s going on, then you have to help me figure out why all of a sudden women are throwing themselves at Ben left and right.” She cocked an eyebrow at me. “I’m serious. He’s had some interest over the past couple of months, ladies saying hi to him and stuff. I know he’s probably dated almost everyone in town under thirty-five.” When she lifted her eyebrow again, I said, “Forty?” Waggle of the eyebrow. “Forty-five?” Christ. I was so not going any higher, waggled eyebrow or not, so I pushed on through. “But no one has really done anything overt until the last three days. I’m getting nasty stares, wearing iced tea on my head, and getting tripped on the way to the dance floor. This is more than my normal quota of dead fish on my car.” And yes, I really had a dead fish on my car about four weeks ago from some prankster who thought it would get me to leave town. Apparently it was some kind of initiation thing. I thought it was beyond disgusting, but that was completely off topic.
“I need help, Martha. I need your help, since you know everything and everyone in the whole town. Why is this happening, and how do I get it to stop?” Now I was the one wringing my hands. Ever since Ben had walked me out to the car last night, I had felt sick in my stomach. I didn’t like that things weren’t going so well with us. I’d had enough upheaval in my life lately; I didn’t need my brand-new boyfriend to bag on me, too. Especially when that boyfriend was Ben Fallon and I loved him. Life was not fair.
And now, with Martha’s nod and handshake, I guess it was also about to get very messy. I’d never had a warm, live victim before. I wondered if it would be easier because I could talk to the guy in question and not have to run around behind him trying to figure things out on my own after he was cold and dead.
Of course, this too would turn out to be one of those times I’d wished I had wanted something else.
****
“So, did you hear anything new about the dead body?” I asked Bella over a piece of apple crisp. Okay, so it was only nine-thirty in the morning, but it had apple in it, right? And I was drinking a glass of milk. Had my basic needs covered.
Bella eyed my dish and dipped into her oatmeal. Bleck. The stuff smelled good, but, man, did it look slimy.
I beckoned to one of the waitresses hustling around Mad Martha’s. Martha hadn’t come in today, under penalty of disownment, and was given the day for a mini-honeymoon by the Bouquet. I bit back a smile as Maggie came hustling over in her sensible sneakers and brand-new jeans.
“Uh, excuse me, miss, could you top off my milk, please?” I asked it nicely but ruined the whole thing by snickering.
Maggie glared at me. “You know you could help out here and make things a little bit easier.” She slammed a hand on her hip, but apparently forgot she was holding a full coffeepot. It slopped, she yelled, and Rose came steaming out of the kitchen with a rag, shaking her finger at Maggie.
“You aren’t supposed to swear in here,” Rose told a slightly sopping Maggie. She handed off the towel and turned to glare at me. I hadn’t done anything wrong, so why was I the target today?
“What?” I crossed my arms over my stomach and leaned back in the booth.
“You are no help.” Rose took the coffee from Maggie and put it on the table next to Bella’s plate.
“What do you mean?” Of course I was helping. “I’m helping. Martha asked me to help solve this whole thing to get Horace out of her house. Apparently, his wife is coming over this afternoon and plans on staying, too. Things are getting dire, and she needs me.” I glanced around the busy diner, taking in the way people were chatting and craning their necks, trying to get a glance of who else was there, I guess. “You guys would be doing better, though, if Maggie wouldn’t stay here harassing me and get a move on. Looks like Mr. Hanks over at table five needs a refill.” I gave my two sisters my nicest smile and got punched in the arm for my trouble. “Hey!”
“Get your own milk.” This was called over Maggie’s shoulder as she strutted away, coffee carafe in hand again and a swing to her step.
But Rose was still standing at the table. “Find out fast, Ivy. Dad is thinking of postponing the honeymoon until things are settled. And you know how he gets when his plans are thwarted.” Then she too strolled away. She stopped at Jackie Sturder’s table, and I shuddered thinking about what that snarky woman would say to my sister.
Bella brought my attention back to her with a discreet cough. Well, it was more like she was trying to bring up a loogie, but still.
“What?” I said for the second time in as many minutes.
“So you’re embroiled in another murder mystery, huh? Jared is not going to like that.”
“Jared doesn’t have to like it. He’s your boyfriend, not mine. I already have my father and Martha breathing down my neck. Besides, it’s not like I have to prove anything, because I have a live one to help me with history and stuff instead of running around trying to reconstruct a life.” I sat back, enamored with my newest plan. “I’ll interview Horace and find out who his enemies are, what kinds of things he’s been doing lately that might have led someone to want to poison him, and voila! I’ll have him back at home in no time. I won’t even have anything to do with the murder, since it was probably not related at all.”
“You forgot to wait for my answer to your first question.” Bella smirked at me and it gave me a cramping feeling in my gut.
“I did?” What was that first question? I’d forgotten already.
“You asked if I’ve heard anything new.” She flicked some of her beautiful mahogany hair over her shoulder and looked directly at me. “You’re going to have to look into this dead body thing anyway. Seems the guy sitting out in the Camaro was the trumpet player no one could find, and he’d been shot.”
Crapola! I was hoping for only the live one, but now I had the dead one to contend with, too. Sometimes it didn’t pay to get up in the morning.
****
One measly hour later, I was wishing for just the dead one. How could one person be so thoroughly irritating? And why wouldn’t he get rid of that ridiculous toupee? I was having a hard time keeping my eyes off it.
“So you don’t have any enemies?” I sat back on Martha’s couch and tried for the fifteenth time to get comfortable. Not happening. I couldn’t believe no one wanted to kill this man. I was about to put myself at the top of the suspect list, at this point.
“Not a one.” His hands rested on the arms of a recliner. A little bell sat next to him on the end table, which he picked up to discreetly ding. “Martha, honey, can you bring me some milk? I seem to have a bit of a thirst. Maybe some of those delicious cookies, too?” He touched his throat theatrically, and I noticed the bandage again. I’d have to ask about it af
ter I got over the fact he thought no one wanted him dead.
I could clearly hear Martha grumbling in the kitchen and thought maybe she would spit on the cookies before bringing them out. Hopefully, if she were going to spit, maybe she’d only do it in his milk. I could really go for some cookies right about now.
I turned back to Horace. “So what’s with the neck bandage?”
He put his hand to the white strip of cloth. “I was attacked.”
Attacked? “Attacked?” I said, not sure if I believed it. Then again, this was Horace, and if he could wear that toupee without blinking, almost anything was possible.
“Yes, attacked. Someone came up behind me a few days before the wedding and wrapped a cord around my neck.” He folded his arms over his chest and sat back. Man, did I wish I had psychic abilities right now, like Bella, because he almost looked smug about the attack, and I couldn’t think why. Regardless, it was a pretty strange reaction to almost being killed.
Martha came bustling in with cookies and two glasses of milk. She put the whole thing down on the coffee table but then made a point to hand me one of the glasses of milk along with a smile and a wink. “I hope you enjoy that milk, Horace. I made that glass special for you.”
****
“And then, as soon as he was done with his first cookie, and assuring me that, even though he was nearly strangled and got away, he really didn’t have any enemies, he ran to the bathroom.”
Bella settled back into her couch, muffling a laugh behind a pillow. I told her to guffaw all she wanted, it wasn’t like anyone was going to hear her. And neither of us were suspects, so it wouldn’t look bad if the police happened to wander by.
“No, I really should stop laughing. It’s not funny.”
“Well, sure it is,” I said, leaning forward to dip a chip in guac. “He was in there for quite some time. Gave my ears a break, at least, from his nasally voice. Personally, I can’t understand why so many people hire him and his band to do shows, but they’re pretty popular. I wonder what they’ll do now, without the trumpet guy.”
“I’m sure Ben could fill in again.”
Just thinking about Ben up on that stage, blowing into the trumpet, made my palms a little damp. I’m a real sucker for musicians now, apparently.
But a knock on the door brought me back from BenLand. Bella got up to answer it and was curiously silent. Wondering what had happened to her (Was there a serial killer on the loose?) I went to the foyer to see if I could help.
Yeah, well, I wouldn’t need to help with the prolonged lip lock going on at the front door between Miss Bella and Officer Jared Henderson. I thought they could probably handle things all on their own. Plus, that meant more guac for me without other chip interference.
When I was halfway through the bag, they finally walked into the living room. Man, that must have been some kind of kiss.
“So I hear you’re still working on being the nosiest woman in all of Martha’s Point.”
I gasped. “Moi? Me, the nosiest woman in Martha’s Point? Absolutely not. Whatever gave you that idea? I would never want to have that dubious title. What are you talking about, anyway?” I clamped my lips together before anything more spilled out.
“Sure, you keep talking, Ivy. Eventually you’ll implicate yourself. It’s not like I don’t have ears and know you’re asking questions.” Jared crossed his arms over his chest, and Bella weaseled one hand under his bicep.
Next thing I knew, he yowled and jumped. “You pinched me!” He looked like I did when my Chunky Monkey ice cream ran out.
“Oh, get off your high horse, Jared. Ivy was asked by Martha to interfere. She’s not doing it for herself this time.”
For God’s sake. Was I not trying to play it cool so the police wouldn’t know I was working behind the scenes? “Thanks a lot, Bella. Now they definitely know I’m looking into things, and I’m sure I’ll get a visit from old Jameson at any moment, telling me to keep my nose out of it.” I threw myself back against the cushions with a big heaving sigh.
“Puh-lease!” Bella stuck her hands on her hips. “Jared told you they know you’re nosing.”
“And thanks so much for confirming it.”
“Pshaw!”
Pshaw? Um, I was not going there. I was pretty sure I hadn’t heard anyone use that word outside of movies for kids in years. But that wasn’t the point. The point was I was sulking for her ruining my ruse. Now I’d be watched like a hawk, and most likely I’d be told time and time again to stay away from any suspects. Damn.
But it was as if Jared pulled the thought right out of my head. “I’m not going to say anything this time, Ivy. You helped a lot with the last murder, and I’m sure you’ll help with this one. In fact, if you need any assistance, let me know. I’m officially on vacation for a week, so I can unofficially help you all during that time.”
Woo-hoo! Did you hear that? Going to help me with my investigation? Thought I was competent? If Bella hadn’t already taken him, I would have kissed him. As it was, I was not going to get Bella’s spit second hand, thank you very much. And, since I was mad at Ben right now, it would be nice to have someone I could run ideas by and pull off my dangerous investigations with. Hmmm, now I had gone Perry Mason on myself. Not good.
“Thank you. I really appreciate it, Jared.”
“But you better not steal all my time with my boyfriend. That’s all I have to say.” Bella slapped her hands on her hips again and glared at me.
“I know where my priorities are, babe.” Jared draped his arm over Bella’s shoulders and pulled her in close. What followed doesn’t bear talking about. I wasn’t getting any at the moment, and the way things were going at this point, I might be back in the land of the sexual Sahara a lot sooner than I had ever anticipated.
****
I went into The Masked Shoppe, my costume and lingerie store, for a little while to see what I could do. Since I had essentially closed down while my family was here, I didn’t have much going on. Hell, I didn’t even have cash in any of the drawers. But it was quiet and peaceful and, best of all, I was actually alone for longer than five minutes, about all I could manage to get everyone to leave me alone while I went to the bathroom, at home.
Being inside the back room with its sheer curtains and lacy underthings reminded me of the way I had taken Ben straight to heaven the first time. Actually, he had taken me to heaven, and I had barely kept from knocking him out cold with my elbow. But you understand.
Being here reminded me of Ben and gave me a funky feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wanted so much for our relationship to go off without a hitch for many years, but the Fates, or the ladies in this town, were conspiring against me.
Okay, Ben was a handsome guy. I knew he had had some kind of thing with about half the ladies in town, and I had been assured when we first got together that he was done with his wayward ways. But it didn’t help that he didn’t even seem to realize what was happening right under his nose. He was just so...so...male!
I didn’t know why I was acting crazy. He wasn’t really responding to the other women’s advances. Right? Right. Well, except for when he lingered over the one witch who had poured iced tea on me. Oh, and when he was completely mesmerized by that woman who lived beneath him. Ack! I was going to drive myself insane.
Moving around the shop, I straightened some of the racks, made sure the candles were arranged strategically on the counter, and dusted a few things with my fingers. I tried to come up with a list of suspects for what happened to Horace, but ended up with nothing. The guy was a lunatic. I’d heard the caterer threatened to kill Horace because he was ruining the palates of the reception guests with his hokey version of the Chicken Dance, but I didn’t really think that was what had happened.
Putting out a few more boas to drape over the hanging baskets full of panties in the back room, I wondered if we had a serial killer in our midst. I still didn’t know what had happened to the guy in the parking lot, but if he was harmed by the same
person who had made an attempt on Horace, the possibilities weren’t looking good. Crap. What if he made another attempt on Horace’s life? A serial killer would definitely try to kill Horace again next. I knew I would.
Chapter Twelve
A knock on my front door had me spending about ten seconds in which I contemplated not answering, before I realized I had approximately a hundred people in my house who were all getting ready to leave today. Chaos reigned.
“I’ll get it,” Maggie yelled. I should have tackled her, but I didn’t get there fast enough. And that’s how Ben got in the door without a single problem. Oh, but I was about to give him a problem.
“Hey, Ivy, my glossy vine,” he whispered in my ear. But I was ready for him. I didn’t shiver at all and my thighs did not quiver in the least.
Okay, I totally lied. My thighs did quiver and I absolutely shivered, but I scowled at the same time. I did try, I promise.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying hard to keep my anger in the forefront of my mind instead of melting into a hideous puddle of goo like my body was tempted to do. That would not work at all, and I cursed my traitorous self soundly inside my head, which is why I missed his next words.
“What?”
He gave me a funny look and I realized I’d probably spoken more sharply than I normally did. Tough noogies.
“I said I came to see if I could help anyone with carrying stuff out to the car, or see if you needed me to help in driving to the airport.” The funny look was still there, his brow crinkled, his eyes squinty, his mouth turned down. It should have been a bad look on him, and yet it still made my heart pound a little faster.
