4 Return To Sender: A Cat Cozy Mystery: A Mail Carrier Cozy Mystery

by Tonya Kappes

  Chapter 5

  The doctor’s building was actually next to the post office, and I’d been so quick to deliver the mail to finish my day, I’d decided to drop off my mailbag and leave it in my locker at the post office instead of fooling with it at Julia’s appointment.

  I only wanted to focus on Clara and not worry about keeping up with the work bag.

  “I can’t thank you enough, Maw-maw.” Julia handed me the little pumpkin seat with Clara in it.

  “Julia,” I gasped when I noticed the little blond curls. “Her hair.” Just looking at Clara brought tears to my eyes. “She looks just like you.”

  “Can you believe it? She’s starting to get some little features.” Julia reached down and adjusted the little blanket over Clara. “She’s got Grady’s lungs, though,” she teased.

  “He did have a nice set on him when he was a kid and hungry.” I’m sure she was so sick and tired of me telling her stories about Grady as a baby.

  “And that’s when she acts like him.” She took the baby bag, unzipped it, and pointed to the inside straps holding the bottle. “I put in a bottle because soon she’ll wake up and want to eat.”

  “I’ve got this.” I was confident.

  Julia and I sat there chitchatting about various things, and I could tell she was avoiding the topic on everyone in our family’s mind… Mac. One of the main reasons for her checkup was to see if the doctor would clear her to go back to work. It wasn’t her OBGYN that had an issue; it was the family doctor who wanted to make sure Julia’s blood pressure had returned to normal since it was the cause for why Clara was born so prematurely.

  When they called Julia back to the exam room, I couldn’t help but give a few little shakes to the pumpkin seat in hopes Clara would wake up. I couldn’t wait to see if she had Grady’s big brown eyes. Julia’s blond hair and his eyes would make the prettiest combination. But anything looked pretty on Clara.

  The door to the exam rooms opened, and I looked up.

  “Hey, Simon.” The excitement exuded from me. “I’m so glad to see you. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

  “Hey, Mrs. Butler.” He walked over, and I couldn’t help but notice how his pointer finger and his middle finger of both hands seemed to be curled into his palm. “Is that Grady’s baby?”

  “Clara Butler.” My voice ran up an octave. “Isn’t she precious?”

  “A doll baby.” He walked over and looked down at her. I took a closer look at his hands.

  “Do you want to hold her?” I blurted out, thinking that she’d wake up if he said yes.

  “No, ma’am.” He held up his hands. “I can’t do much holding on to anything right now.”

  “Oh no. Are you okay?” Goodness, I bet Harriette was right. He had to have some sort of terrible arthritis.

  “I’ve got some sort of disease called Dupuytren’s contracture.” He held out his hands and tried to open his fingers then pointed to the tendon in his palm.

  “Arthritis?” I asked.

  “No, ma’am.” He tapped his palm. “You can feel my tendon right here is tight like concrete. These are nodules that have created a stiffness and loss of full extension which brings my fingers in, making it look like arthritis. Right now, the only thing I can do is have surgery.”

  “How did you injure both hands?” I continued to look back and forth, then felt one of his palms after he gestured me to. They were so tight and hard.

  Poor kid. So young.

  “Not any injury. I just started to get this tightness in my hands while I was working on the cars, and so I came to the doctor. I was initially treated for carpal tunnel. Then I went to physical therapy, was treated for arthritis, then got the Dupuytren’s diagnosis.” He frowned, shaking his head and looking at his hands. “It’s been a struggle not being able to work. It’s depressing. I never thought I’d be twenty-seven and relying on my parents for help. I should be like Grady. Wife, kid, and doing what I love.”

  “I’m so sorry.” I could feel his pain. It radiated through his eyes. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No, ma’am.” He was just as polite as could be. “What was it that made you think of me today?” he asked, jarring me back to his letter.

  “I stopped by the garage because there was a certified letter for you accidentally stuck in my mail carrier bag.” I looked around for my bag, though I knew it wasn’t in there. “Gosh. I forgot I dropped my bag off at the post office before I came over here to meet Julia for her appointment. Anyways, I told Gerome I’d give it to him tomorrow morning, and I also told Nick to tell you I was there.”

  “Do you know who it’s from?” he asked.

  “Patent office.” I pretend to accidentally nudge the pumpkin seat in hopes Clara would hurry and wake up. No luck.

  “Oh yeah,” Simon gasped and happily sighed. It warmed me up inside to see his light turn on. “I’ve been waiting to see if I got a patent on this motorcycle part because it would really help if I could sell it and pay the surgery cost so my parents didn’t have to.”

  “Nick mentioned something about that.” I watched as the smile melted from his lips and his eyes clouded over with worry.

  “You showed Nick the letter?” he asked.

  “No. He asked if he could sign, and I showed him the envelope had your name on it for signature, so I couldn’t give it to him.” My eyes narrowed. “Is there something wrong?”

  “No, ma’am.” His chest heaved as he sucked in a deep breath. “Grady’s baby sure is cute. You be sure to tell him I saw her.”

  He took off like a jet out of the doctor’s office, and not too long after, Julia emerged from the exam room hallway with a paper in her hand.

  “Already finished?” I pouted. “She never once woke up.”

  About that time, Clara burst out crying and so did Julia.

  “Oh dear.” I didn’t know who to comfort first. Well, actually… I did, and I scooped her into my arms. “Julia, it’s okay, what’s wrong?” I rocked the pumpkin seat with the toe of my shoe, soothing Clara for a moment.

  “Doctor Hunter won’t clear me to go back to work, and if I don’t get some peace, I’m going to lose my mind.” She cried on my shoulder. “I’m so tired. Going back to work I can at least rest my eyes when Mac is gone in the afternoon.”

  I patted her back and let her talk out all the stress right there in the reception room, remembering exactly how hard it was to adjust to being a mom.

  A few hours later and a little mentally exhausted, Iris and I were right back on that darn yoga mat in the most uncompromising position while I whispered between aches and moans how I was going to let Monica Reed take one day a week for my third loop while I cared for Clara so Julia could get out of the house, or bring Clara to my house while Julia slept at hers. Plus, I’d intended on talking to Grady about it.

  “Poor gal. I bet it’s hard.” Iris had twisted at the waist, hugging her tented knee to her chest.

  “Ladies,” Peaches said, interrupting our conversation. “You get more benefits from yoga class if you also use this time mentally for yourself. Gossip later.”

  I gave her a flat look and slowly untwisted from the right, going into the same twist on the left and getting a good view of Lucy Drake in yet another new tight-fitting yoga outfit.

  The rest of the class, I refused to let myself get all worked up about Lucy. I’d secretly wished Peaches would kick her out like she’d done Sarah, but no luck. I got lost in a daydream of wearing the shirt China was going to make for me and Lucy being jealous of me.

  “Wake up.” Iris nudged me. “You’ve got to stop falling asleep because your snoring is getting louder and louder.”

  “What?” I blinked awake and dragged my hand along the drool that’d dripped down my chin.

  “You know you should go to the doctor about sleep apnea.” Lucy Drake smiled and trotted past us with her fancy yoga mat rolled up under her arm.

  “Why don’t you jar me awake when I start to fall asleep?” I gl
ared at Iris, filled with embarrassment.

  “Because I’m busy worrying about myself not falling asleep.” Iris grunted when she pushed herself up to stand.

  “Sorry about all this, Peaches.” I stood up.

  “Don’t you worry about it. I’m so glad your body is responding exactly the way it needs to so you can find rest. If you’re falling asleep, you must be comfortable.” She walked into the front of the spa. Everyone had already left the studio. “Want a drink?”

  To my surprise, she tugged a big bottle of bourbon from underneath the counter along with three shot glasses.

  “One for you, you, and me.” She referred to me and Iris as she made the two-finger pour shots.

  “No thanks.” I put my hand out in front of me. “Are you okay?”

  “What? Can’t I have a little downtime? You use yoga; I’m using bourbon.” She double fisted my shot glass and hers before she downed both.

  Iris didn’t miss a beat. She grabbed the one for her and gulped it right down.

  “Weeee-doggie, just what I needed to get tonight’s baking done.” Iris smacked her lips together.

  “Want to join me for another one?” Peaches wiggled the bourbon bottle in the air.

  “No thanks. I want to bake, not lie on the bakery floor.” Iris waved behind her and off she went.

  “Sure you don’t want one?” she asked me and refilled all three glasses.

  “No, but I do want to know what’s going on. This isn’t like you.” I didn’t know Peaches very well, but well enough to know her to never drink like this. Maybe a cocktail here and there when I’d see her out and about, but not at her place of business.

  “Let’s just say that Simon and Sarah have got me a little turned up sideways,” she confessed and sucked down another shot. “I didn’t think it was going to bother me as much as it has. He came to see me this afternoon, and I was shocked at how fast his disease has progressed.”

  “I saw him at the doctor’s office. He told me.” I could see anger in Peaches’s face and wondered if she needed to take her own advice about her yoga class’s benefits.

  “He told you about us?” She got super defensive and on edge as if there were a big secret.

  “No. He told me about the disease.” I wanted to ask about them, but it certainly wasn’t my place unless she wanted to disclose it.

  “Oh.” She threw down the last shot as her head tilted back, letting the bourbon slide down her throat. “Hopefully, the surgery will help. I need you to take this.”

  She picked up a package off the floor and put it on the counter.

  “It was delivered to my house today. I know it’s from Simon, and I can’t accept it.” She had written “return to sender” all over the box. She pushed it toward me.

  “I can’t take it tonight since it’s work, but leave it here, and I’ll get it in the morning when I deliver your mail.” I patted her hand. “I’m going to go. Do you think you’re going to be okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’ve got China’s bag of clothes to sort through, so I’m going to spend the night here on one of the massage tables.” She must’ve seen the look on my face. “Don’t worry. I do it all the time.”

  “Okay, but if you ever need someone to talk to, please find me. Not a bottle.” I picked up the bourbon bottle and set it back down.

  “I’ll be fine.” She rolled her eyes and laughed. “You keep working on your flexibility. Rest. Don’t let Lucy Drake intimidate you.”

  “That noticeable?” I shrugged, laughing. “It looks like me and you are in the same boat,” I joked and headed out the door.

  Chapter 6

  No matter how much Peaches Partin preached about how good yoga was, encouraging me to stick with it because it would help me sleep, it started to sound like a lot of bull malarkey to me. Unless she meant the end of class when she had us lie down and put a nice, warm, cozy blanket over us, which I fell asleep to every single time.

  I wanted the full night’s sleep I used to get when Grady was little and Richard was alive. Instead of dwelling on how much my body ached from yoga class and the tossing and turning all night, I got myself up and got ready for work. I decided to head on over to the garage early this morning, after my first loop, to see if Simon was there yet. When I’d gotten home last night, the certified letter was on the floor exactly where I thought it might’ve been when I couldn’t find it in my bag.

  “Buster,” I called out from the front door with his leash in my hand, figuring it was early and he’d love to accompany me on the walk from our house to the post office to get my first loop, then head to the garage to drop off the letter, and then go back to the post office to get my second loop of mail.

  From what Lucy Drake had said on the early morning radio weather update, which made me a little happy she was at work and not shacking up down the street with Mac, it was going to be a really cool morning but temperatures were going to rise as the day went on.

  As soon as Buster saw his leash, he was raring to go. His hard tail whacked me a few times.

  “You be a good girl,” I told Rowena, who sat a good distance back so she wouldn’t be in the line of danger, Buster’s tail. She blinked a few slow blinks like she was telling me how happy she was to have the house to herself.

  With the leash clipped on Buster’s collar, we were ready to go. The duck paddled around the foot of the bridge that connected Main Street to the veterinary clinic across the street from the post office.

  “What on earth?” I gasped when I saw a few of the sheriff’s deputies’ Jeeps parked along the side of the post office. All the lights were on inside, which never happened until Monica opened the service center.

  “Come on.” I tugged on Buster’s leash to get him to stop sniffing around the vet clinic’s bushes and ran across Main Street to the back of the parking lot where none of the LLV drivers were going around their vehicles doing their morning assessments of the trucks.

  That told me something was really wrong.

  “Monica, what’s going on?” I’d found Monica near the taped-off area by the door. The kind like the police or, in our case, sheriff’s taped-off area that meant there was a crime.

  “Someone has broken in to the post office.” Her voice cracked. She gnawed on her already short fingernails. “I had no idea when I let myself in this morning until I had flipped on the lights for y’all to see when you come through the back door.” She bent down and started to pat Buster.

  Both of us stopped when we heard another car pull up. It was Sheriff Angela Hafley.

  “What on earth did they steal? Stamps?” I joked, trying to make light of the situation since I could see she was relaxing a little with Buster’s help. He was so good at calming people.

  Even before I inherited him, when I’d show up to his house, he always could tell when I was having a bad day. Just as soon as I’d drop the mail off at his house for his owner, I instantly felt good. Maybe I should make him a helper dog. I put the thought in the back of my head to ask Vivian Tillett, the director of the nursing home, if they had any sort of program like that.

  “I have no idea what they wanted.” She let out a long sigh.

  “They?” I asked, thinking more than one.

  “I don’t know. By the time I realized someone had broken the glass on the door, I ran out and called the sheriff’s department.” She continued to pat Buster as Sheriff Hafley walked up.

  “Mornin’, ladies.” Angela stuck her hand out for Buster to smell before he gave her the go ahead to pet him all over. “I guess we have someone who just couldn’t wait for their mail to be delivered.”

  “Is that a joke or is that what’s happened?” I asked, not able to read Angela’s body language. I had gotten really good at that, but it was still pretty dark out, and I’d yet to have ten cups of coffee, so I was blaming lack of sleep.

  Dang yoga.

  “Bernie, I’m joking. I have no idea yet why someone would break in, but I’m guessing to do something so drastic, it would
be in anticipation of receiving a letter possibly.” She had a point, I guess. She directed her next words to Monica. “Can I get a quick statement from you?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Monica agreed and followed Angela to the sheriff’s car, passing Gerome on the way.

  “Crazy stuff.” Gerome shook his head. “Gonna make me late, and my boy has a Little League soccer game this afternoon that I wanted to make it to.”

  Every morning the lifelong vehicle mail carriers had to go over their mail trucks pretty thoroughly. If they found something wrong, they’d turn in the repairs and hopefully get those done. That’s why Nick was there yesterday morning, which reminded me of the letter I had for Simon.

  “If it’s any time off, I’m more than happy to give the garage their mail since I still have Simon’s letter.” I talked and watched as the deputies continued to walk back and forth with updates on what was going on inside to Angela and the postmaster general. “Speaking of Simon, I had no idea he had that terrible disease where the tendons in his hands contract.”

  “Poor guy. He gets his medication mailed from Canada because it’s cheaper. Sad thing is that it takes longer, so he’s been waiting on his refill for a week. I bet he’s out of medication too.” Gerome’s eyes grew big, he slid his chin to the side, tilted his head, and looked at me with a look of disbelief. “Do you think he broke in here to see if his meds were here?”

  “No. How could he?” I questioned. “He can’t hold anything to break in.”

  “I never thought about that.” He sighed. “But someone wanted something.”

  Both of us turned our attention to the door when we noticed a deputy had walked out with a mail carrier bag. The deputy walked over to Angela’s car. She got out, and they had a little discussion. I watched as she turned her gaze to me. She lifted her chin in the air slightly like she was talking about me, making the deputy look my way. His eyes caught mine, and in an instant, I knew the bag was mine.

  “Giiirl, it looks like they got your bag. And I’m not sticking around to see what is up with that.” Gerome took off toward a group of LLVers and left me and Buster to fend for ourselves.