Merry Wrath Mysteries Boxed Set Volume III (Books 7-9)

by Leslie Langtry

  "It's mahogany," she said smoothly. "It comes with two leaves you can insert to make it longer and six chairs."

  Way more than I needed.

  "My dining room is too small for that, I think. Do you have something you'd recommend?"

  I followed her to the next table, wondering how I was going to bring the conversation around to Didi. By the time we stopped at a table for four, I had an idea.

  "You know," I said, "you're much nicer than the other woman they had here. I came in for a couch once, and she was unbelievably rude."

  Victoria's smile froze on her face. "Ah. You must mean Miss Stoker. Yes, well, she wasn't really a professional."

  "A professional?" I pressed.

  The woman nodded. "I'd been selling in this store for thirty years when she showed up. Thirty years! Then she shows up with no experience and cons the boss into hiring her and retiring me!" Victoria's face started to turn red.

  My mouth dropped open in fake outrage. "That's terrible! She sounds like a horrid person!"

  Victoria nodded. "She was. A real witch, that one." She looked around at the empty store before stepping closer to me. "I hate to speak ill of the dead. But she got what she deserved."

  Oooh! I was closing in!

  "Victoria?" Andrews stood in the doorway to his office. "Do you have a moment?"

  The saleswoman looked at me, unsure of whether to answer the boss or close the sale.

  "I'll take it!" I said, pointing to the small square table and four chairs. I needed to talk to her a moment more.

  "I've got a sale, Mr. Andrews." She didn't even look at him. "I'll ring you up."

  As we approached the counter, I asked, "Well, I'm glad you're here. You are a much better salesman than that Stoker woman."

  Victoria punched a few numbers on a calculator. "You can't argue with experience."

  She handed me the ticket. Whoa. This dining set that I didn't need and couldn't use was really expensive. I handed over my card and tried to look carefree, as if I buy furniture I don't need all the time.

  "I'm so glad you think so." Victoria ran my card and handed it back to me. "I wish someone in the office knew that. He wouldn't have hired that witch if she wasn't pretty and young."

  Did Victoria hate Didi enough to kill her? In spite of her hatred, she'd been nothing but friendly and professional to me. I'd have to give this some thought. I told Victoria that my fiancé would be picking up the table in a week or so. I'd need that amount of time to explain to Rex that I wasn't snooping. I just urgently needed a table and chairs for no apparent reason.

  I was just walking out the door when I bumped into a woman with long auburn hair.

  "Mrs. Haver!" I squeaked.

  When I'd interviewed Darlene, it didn't occur to me that I'd run into her again. How odd that she was visiting the business that her now dead nemesis worked at. And that I, Didi's imaginary cousin, should be coming out the door at the same time.

  We regarded each other for a long, uncomfortable moment.

  "I'm sorry," Darlene said icily. "I don't think I got your name when we talked at the hospital."

  I really had no choice. It was a small town, and I couldn't run the risk of using a fake name.

  "Merry Wrath" was all I said.

  Darlene looked into the store and then at me. "What are you doing here? Visiting the ghost of your dead cousin?" Her voice quivered with anger.

  "I bought a bedroom suite here a week ago," I answered easily. "I had a question on the mattress."

  When you're a spy, if you can do it, it's always best to mix the truth with a lie. That makes your story easier to remember if you come up against something unexpected…like running into a possible murderer.

  "Bought it from the cousin you hated, I suppose?" she snapped.

  I shook my head. "No way. I wasn't going to give her the commission. I used the guy here. Drove my cousin crazy."

  The pretty woman laughed. It was dry…brittle. A fragile moment of merriment.

  "See you around." She brushed past me and made her way into the store.

  I watched as she walked up to Victoria and pointed at an end table. Didi had caused suffering to both these women. Did they know each other? Had they worked together to kill her? Darlene looked up at me and narrowed her eyes.

  I couldn't get her expression out of my head as I drove away.

  * * *

  "Don't you see?" I was in the hospital cafeteria with Kelly. "Didi was in DC right after Mom said the coins were in the Smithsonian! I think she was in on it with Stan."

  Kelly chewed on her sandwich thoughtfully. "Maybe. But he was pretty happy she was dead."

  "Because she was a loose end, and he got to keep all of the money they'd make when they sold them!"

  She nodded slowly. "That could be true. Her body was found in the barn, and so were the coins. Did your mother say how many coins were in the exhibit?"

  "She thought four." I set down my can of pop.

  "Is that the file?" She glanced at the folder on the table. With Mom's disappearance and Amber's murder, I'd forgotten all about it.

  I nodded. "Do you think Rex still believes the break-in was for this?"

  She pointed at me. "It's his investigation, and I'd suggest you don't ask."

  She was right. The last thing Rex would do right now was throw me a bone.

  "What about the dog?" Kelly asked.

  "He's staying at Rex's. I think he wants to keep him."

  Kelly took the envelope and opened it. After reading a few seconds, she looked up. "Didn't Andrews say Didi went to DC to see her mother?"

  I bit into a cookie. "That's right."

  "Well, here." She pointed at the file. "It says her mother's been dead for years."

  I clapped my hands. "That's it! We've solved it! She's the thief!"

  "Maybe…" Kelly didn't look convinced. "Stan has a nice house. He could be a fence. She might have stolen stuff for him before."

  Was it all coming together? What a relief. I'd tell Rex, he'd arrest Stan, and we could move on with our other problems.

  "But what about Darlene?" she asked. "We know she hated Didi. And she knew how she'd been murdered."

  "That's true. But I can't tie her to Stan." Darlene was a strong suspect. We knew her motive, and she knew the method of the murder. "Unless…"

  I told Kelly about my run-in with the woman moments earlier. "She could've worked with Stan on killing Didi. That might be why she was at the store."

  "One thing I can't figure out," Kelly mused. "Whether it was Darlene or Stan, why did they dress her as a witch and put her in that particular barn?"

  I shrugged. "The costume is a metaphor? They wanted to have the last word?"

  Kelly leaned forward. "Yes, but the school also had a grudge since she'd gotten the Halloween party cancelled."

  I slumped back against my chair. "I don't think anyone at the school would've killed her for that. But if you're right, it could be anyone—a teacher or a parent…anybody."

  "I'll poke around," my best friend said. "Maybe someone here knows Darlene a little better."

  That sounded promising, but I had to wonder if we were going about this all wrong. Didi Stoker didn't have friends. She had enemies. Everywhere. Could the murderer be someone we hadn't even considered?

  Kelly must have been reading my mind. "Maybe Stan is innocent? Maybe he's just a scumbag. The coins could be from something else. Is it possible we're looking at two different crimes here?"

  An idea popped into my head. "I think I'll talk to Oliver Barnes, the guy who owns the barn."

  "Didn't Kevin say he was out of town?"

  "He could be back." I tapped my chin. "I'd come back if a dead woman was found in my barn."

  "On another note," my friend said. "Riley texted last night to ask why you aren't taking him up on his job offer."

  My jaw dropped. "Why is Riley talking to you about it?" Seemed like he should only be talking to me.

  "If you don't want it, turn
him down." Kelly wiggled a potato chip in my direction.

  "I don't want it," I mumbled. "I feel like I should take the opportunity Rex offered." It might go a long way to smooth things over with my fiancé.

  Kelly stared at me. "It doesn't sound like you don't want it."

  I threw my hands up in the air. "Why does it matter? I'm busy with other things right now."

  "It does matter." Kelly smiled. "To you. I know there's a lot going on, but you can't just string Riley along on this. It was nice of him to offer."

  "I didn't ask for a job. I didn't even want him to move here." That was true.

  "But you're interested," she said. "Maybe more interested than in the Historical Society job."

  "Why are you bringing this up right now?" I whined.

  "Because you're an adult and you need to either take one of the jobs or turn them both down."

  I fumed for a moment. We had a murder to solve and a float to build. Why should I decide this now? And what did she mean about taking one or turning them both down? Did Kelly think I was leading Riley and Rex on?

  Was I?

  Kelly got to her feet. "Lunch hour is over." She slid the file back to me. "Let me know what you decide to do. As for the parade, I'll send Robert over with the truck to pick up the flatbed later."

  I shoved the thoughts of the dual jobs aside. This idea of calling the old farmer gave me a little hope. The only person I knew who had the number was Officer Kevin Dooley. Shouldn't be too hard to get it out of him.

  I was just working out a plan when I ran into Susan.

  "Hey Merry!" the counselor said brightly. "What's up?"

  Kevin could wait. I needed to talk to my therapist. "You don't happen to have a free moment, do you?"

  Susan laughed. "Actually, I had a client cancel on me just now." She turned and headed toward her office, and I followed.

  I'd been seeing Susan on and off for months now. She helped me deal with my wedding jitters and helped me see how unhappy I was to lose my job as a spy. I wasn't sure what we'd talk about, but Mr. Fancy Pants hadn't been very helpful, and I sure didn't need any more lip from the scarlet macaw.

  Besides, this whole mystery was bothering me. Throw in Mom's disappearance and the two job offers I'd had recently, and I was confused.

  We sat down in comfy chairs, and she waited patiently for me to begin.

  "It's not the wedding, not anymore," I started.

  "That's great." Susan nodded.

  "It's about a job. Well, two jobs really." I filled her in on Riley's offer and Rex's suggestion with the Historical Society.

  Susan listened carefully. And I didn't have to give her Girl Scout Cookies or break into her office to see her.

  "What is it about Rex's job offer that you like?" she asked when I was done.

  "Well…" I thought about it for a second. "I like history. And I'm from here. The mayor seems to think I'm some sort of celebrity who would draw tourists. I'm pretty sure I could handle the job. I just don't know if it's what I want to do."

  "Why do you think so?" Susan asked.

  "What if it's boring? What if people come just to stare at me?" I took a deep breath. "Or what if nobody comes to stare at me?"

  Susan thought for a moment. "I think those are concerns everyone has with almost any job. Your feelings are normal."

  "They are?" Wow. I had a normal thought?

  "Sure. Everyone worries when they take a new job. Will they be able to handle it? What if they fail? You're not alone in feeling that way."

  "It's not that I'm vain," I said. "Regarding the whole no-one-showing-up thing. I guess I worry that the mayor has unreasonable goals."

  "I've heard the story of the heiress who was murdered here in the 1900s." Susan smiled. "And I know that the town wants to compete with Villisca, Iowa. It's morbid, but it might be interesting work."

  I shrugged. "I know nothing about marketing something like that."

  "When you start a new job," the counselor said, "there will be things you learn as you go."

  I thought about that for a moment. She had a point. When I was recruited by the CIA right out of college, I had zero experience as a spy. But they trained me, and I learned on the job as I went.

  "What about the offer to work for Riley?" Susan asked.

  I rolled my eyes. Susan knew about my past with Riley. "He's quit the FBI and opened up shop here in town. The man moved to this tiny town to start up a business."

  "And you think he did it because of you," Susan said.

  "Why else? There won't be much work here. At the very least he should've picked Des Moines or Omaha. He was stationed briefly in Omaha. What does he expect to do in Who's There?"

  "What about working for him as an investigator?" she asked. "It's more in line with your former job."

  I sighed. "I know. That's the only attractive thing about the job. I like investigating. And I'm not too bad at it. But Rex doesn't like me interfering with his job."

  "Do you think you'd be interfering?"

  For a moment, I almost said no. And then it dawned on me.

  "I probably would be. I'm not saying we'd have the same cases. But what if the family of a murder victim wanted me to investigate because they didn't trust the police? That would be like me saying I didn't have faith in Rex to do his job."

  Wow. That was a bit of devastating insight. Was that how he felt when I interfered? Was that how it came across? No wonder my fiancé was so upset with me. How did I not see this before?

  "You seem to be having a breakthrough." Susan smiled at my silence.

  I nodded slowly. "I think you're right. But it doesn't help me regarding the two job offers."

  Both jobs, in spite of my epiphany, now seemed far more interesting.

  "There's no rush to decide on any of this today," Susan soothed.

  She was right. There wasn't any hurry. And this realization just made the whole mess more complicated.

  "So, what do I do now?" I asked.

  "Take some time to give it more thought," she said as she rose from her chair. "I think you need it." She shook my hand. "Call if you need to talk again. That's what I'm here for."

  As I walked out to my van, I wondered if I should talk to Rex about all of this. Would he understand my interest in Riley's job offer? Or would he read something into it? Rex was beyond that kind of thinking. But he was swamped with this case. The last thing I needed to do was add more to his plate.

  Still, wasn't marriage about communication? Or was it pancakes in bed? I got that confused sometimes.

  I texted Rex, just to check in, but he didn't respond. Most likely he was booking Stan for Amber's murder. My brain shifted from things that didn't matter yet to things that mattered now. Amber's body was found in my backyard. What part did she have to play in all of this? Was she in on the heist? Why was she in my backyard, barely dressed? I knew nothing about her.

  Back at home, I read the file. There wasn't much, other than the fact that Didi had taken four trips in the last nine months. She could've stolen something each time she traveled.

  One thing that caught my eye was the lack of info on her annual evaluations, but Andrews played things close to the vest and didn't say much about her. If she was a pain in the butt, he didn't say so.

  I should've stolen Stan's file. Another break-in would settle that, but could I risk it? Rex already knew I'd spied on Stan. Did he suspect I'd broken into Midland Furniture too? I'd hold on to the file for now. I tucked it behind some cereal boxes in the pantry. No one would look for it there.

  I texted Mom, but she didn't answer either. Apparently, I was on a do-not-text list. My cell buzzed, and I answered it.

  It was Kevin Dooley. "The detective wants to know if you'll let his dog out."

  Kevin. Dooley. Called. Me.

  "Why are you asking me?" I was a bit blindsided. Rex never had me interacting with the idiot officer if he could avoid it.

  It was as if I could feel him shrug on the other end. "I don't know
."

  Then I remembered Oliver Barnes. And I said four little words that I never in a million years would've thought I'd say to Kevin.

  "I'm glad you called." I pushed on quickly before he could process this. "Do you have Mr. Barnes' number? We're going to have to move the float, and I need to know if he wants me to lock up."

  A normal cop might have thought this suspicious. But I wasn't dealing with a normal cop. I was dealing with a carbon-based life form that subsisted on junk food. Not the same thing.

  "Okay." Kevin read the number to me and hung up, ending the longest conversation we'd ever had. Hopefully, the last one.

  I texted Rex, telling him that of course I'd take his dog out. This was a chance for me to do something helpful. Maybe he'd forget all the stupid stuff I've done.

  I grabbed my keys and headed across the street. Cats were so much easier. They "went" inside. I didn't have to walk them—although that would be hilarious—and they didn't need to go outside.

  What was that name he was going to call the dog? Oh, right. "Fergus!" I called out as I walked in the front door.

  A blur of dark gray fur flew down the stairs and past me to the kitchen door. I guess the timing was right. I followed him outside. Rex didn't have a fenced-in yard. Would Fergus stay or try to get back to his original home? With all of my sore muscles, it would be impossible to run after him if he bolted.

  Instead, he sniffed around, checking out every shrub and tree. Rex had an immaculate yard. There wasn't a single leaf on the ground. That would be good, because I was a slob. I didn't even know I had to mow for the first few months I was here, until the city put a notice on my door.

  They should have a handbook for new homeowners. For almost a year, the living room drapes were Dora the Explorer bedsheets. I thought they were fine, but everyone else gave me a hard time.

  The dog continued his wanderings. He'd obviously been using the yard as a toilet, but I didn't see any evidence of it. Rex was good about that too. He really was a catch in many ways. I vowed that when this was all done, I'd find a way to make it up to him.

  He was kind of sweet. The dog, I mean. Every few moments he'd come back to me and lick my hand before investigating another quadrant. But I was a cat owner. What would Philby make of Fergus? If Rex kept him and we moved in together, how would my fat Hitler cat feel about this tall, scruffy beast?