Cozy Suburbs Mystery Box Set

by Lisa B. Thomas

  Deena measured her words carefully. “What would you say if I told you that I know what happened to her?” Deena shielded the sun from her eyes so she could see his reaction.

  “I would say you were confirming that this great big earth is actually just a very small world.”

  “She’s dead.” Deena paused as Max’s head dropped to his chest. “But I know her sister, and so do you.”

  “What?”

  “She lives here in Maycroft. Maybe it’s time to make amends. It sounds like the story is going to get out anyway now that Barbara knows about Lizzie. Maybe you should tell Lizzie’s sister what you did and apologize.”

  “You mean like the twelve-step program for plagiarizing authors.”

  Deena grinned. “Something like that. Maybe it will at least help you sleep at night.”

  DEENA DROVE SLOWLY around Dead Wally’s Curve on her way home from Max’s house. She told his defense team she would be willing to talk if it turned out he still needed her help. Hopefully, the police would eventually charge his ex-wife Barbara instead of him.

  Max was genuinely surprised to learn that Lizzie Bogmire’s sister was Betty Donaldson, the librarian and student in his class. Deena had explained to him Betty’s reaction when the three women had seen him kissing Barbara that day they had come by to bring food. He admitted that he was the one to call the police and report having seen her. He had not seen the other two women with her.

  He was unsure that Betty would welcome a call from him under the circumstances. After all, he was still under indictment for the murder of his ex-wife.

  Somehow, as usual, Deena had volunteered to talk to Betty on Max’s behalf, not to tell her about the book but to explain that Max needed to tell her something.

  She pulled up in front of Ian’s office. Although she hadn’t really done anything wrong, feelings of guilt crept up inside her. She got that from her father. She could remember him always apologizing to her mother for something or other. Deena had inherited his tendency to feel responsible for everyone and everybody.

  Shoot. If she could just mind her own beeswax, she might not get herself into these sticky situations.

  Rob once again welcomed her and walked her back to Ian’s office.

  “What have you done now?” Ian asked.

  “You could at least let me sit down first. After all, I am paying you for your legal services.”

  “Not really. I figure that when you take over the thrift store for Sandra when the baby comes, it will be quid pro quo.”

  “Tit for tat.”

  “That’s right. Now if you end up charged with a crime, we may have to renegotiate.”

  Deena held up her crossed fingers. “I think I’m good so far, but you never know.”

  Ian sat back and chuckled. “So what have you done since the last time we talked? Any more attempts on your life? I assume you’re safe with Max Dekker charged.”

  “Well...about that.”

  “Uh-oh. Here it comes.”

  “I went to see him yesterday. At the jail.”

  Ian sucked in a deep breath.

  She had grown used to people doing that with her. Gary, her editor, Ian. Only Russell seemed to understand her motivations. “I wanted to ask him why he tried to kill me.”

  “And you expected him to tell you?”

  “No, not really, but I thought I could get a sense of his guilt or innocence.”

  “You realize that intuition doesn’t mean a darn thing in a court of law. It’s about facts.”

  “And in this case, they are all circumstantial. Even Guttman said so.”

  “So spill it. What did the accused say?”

  “That he was innocent. That he was being framed.”

  Ian slapped the desk and leaned forward as if in a cartoon. “You’re kidding! What a shock!”

  “Very funny, counselor. Let me explain.”

  She went on to tell him about the encounter with Barbara Conroy and how the defense team thought Barbara was the guilty party. Ian listened intently, even taking a few notes. The more she talked, the more seriously he seemed to take her.

  “So you’ve explained the clothes and the dirty handkerchief getting to the thrift shop and the motive of money. What about the attempt on your life? Did she think you were getting too close to the real killer?”

  “Or too close to her money train. One or the other.”

  “What about the white car that followed you? Could she have been driving Max’s rental?”

  “That’s what they are checking on. Max took her several places in it, so DNA inside will be of no use. They are trying to see if the mileage adds up to when Max remembers having driven it.”

  “That sounds a little flimsy. What about her alibi for the night of the murder?”

  “Still waiting to hear back from Guttman. They didn’t hold Barbara after she caused the commotion at the jail, and she’s flown back home to New York. I’m also not sure how anxious Guttman is to prove his arrest was a mistake and to have a new case to prove.”

  “I hear that, especially one that is this high profile. Have you watched the news?”

  “Last night. It’s so strange to hear little ol’ Maycroft mentioned on the national news stations.” She hesitated but decided to go ahead and tell him everything, including the part about Lizzie Bogmire. “The thing is, it’s about to get a whole lot stranger.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sit back. I have a story to tell you about a thief, a book, and a big, fat lie.”

  Chapter 22

  Deena’s brain was bursting at the seams when she pulled onto her street in Butterfly Gardens. She loved the quietness of her little piece of heaven in the suburbs. Too bad she couldn’t quiet the voice in her head. What could she say to Betty to convince her to go back to Max’s house? Obviously, Max couldn’t visit her at the library since he was being held by the long arm of the law, and his news wasn’t something he wanted to deliver over the phone.

  Max had said he really wanted the meeting to take place tomorrow so that his secret about Lizzie wouldn’t hit the news before he had a chance to apologize to Betty.

  Tomorrow. Was today Wednesday? Thursday? The past week seemed to have all run together.

  As she approached the house, she was surprised to see the garage door up. Gary must have come home early for some reason. One of the things Gary took great pride in was the fact that they could actually park both of their cars in their garage, unlike most of their neighbors who kept at least one car in the driveway. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Gary drove a small Mercedes.

  As she got closer, she saw that her parking spot in the garage was taken. She suddenly felt violated, as though another woman were lying in bed next to her husband. She pulled in behind it and had a sinking feeling in her stomach.

  Then it dawned on her. It must be Thursday, and her mother-in-law was here.

  With all the distraction of the Dekker case, she had barely had time to think about Gary’s birthday, much less cleaning her house for her in-laws. Don’t do it, she thought, resisting the temptation to just pull out and drive off. You can do this.

  She got out of her car, one foot at a time as if moving in slow motion. She took a deep breath and headed in through the garage.

  Opening the door slowly, she listened for voices. All she could hear was the faint chatter of the television. Hurley barked and startled the bajeezers out of her.

  Gary sat in his recliner and pushed down the leg rest when he saw her. He put his finger to his mouth and made a soft shushing sound. “Quiet. She’s resting,” he whispered.

  Deena set her purse and keys on the entryway table and tiptoed like a cat burglar to the den. She motioned for Gary to follow her to the bedroom. She closed the door quietly behind them.

  Gary opened the outside door to the patio to let Hurley out. “Where have you been?” he asked in a hushed tone.

  Deena pulled off her jeans to find a more suitable outfit to wear for Mrs. Sharpe. “I
was at Max Dekker’s and then Ian’s office. I forgot she was coming today. You might have mentioned it last night, you know.”

  “I just assumed you remembered. You do remember that we’re having a party here on Saturday with lots of people coming, right?”

  She shot him a look. “Duh.”

  Deena couldn’t really be annoyed with him since she hadn’t cooked, cleaned, or even bought him a present. One thing she didn’t have to worry about was the cake. She just needed to slip out later and ask Christy Ann if she would make it on her own tomorrow. Maybe if Deena mentioned her mother-in-law, Christy Ann would be able to relate.

  As she slipped into navy slacks and a soft coral sweater, a soft knock at the bedroom door caused them both to freeze. Suddenly, Deena was back in high school, and her father was about to catch her kissing her boyfriend.

  Gary walked over and opened the door. “Mother, you’re up.”

  “It was hard to sleep with all that racket.” She looked across the room to the dressing area. “Deena, you’re home. Finally.”

  Deena slipped on her loafers and then gave her mother-in-law an obligatory hug.

  The elder Mrs. Sharpe looked down at Deena’s feet. “I believe I wore those same shoes when I was a child.” She turned and walked back to the den and sat on the sofa.

  Deena and Gary followed.

  “Gary, dear, would you mind fixing me a glass of iced tea?” She picked up a magazine.

  “I’ll get it,” Deena said and hurried to the kitchen.

  Gary walked up behind Deena and kissed her on the neck.

  She opened the cabinet. “It’s gonna be a long weekend.”

  Chapter 23

  The alarm rang bright and early Friday morning. Deena had a lot to accomplish. First, she needed to run up to the library to talk to Betty about Max. She dreaded it, but she was glad to get it over with early. Then, she needed to shop for party food, prepare the food, clean her house, buy Gary a birthday present—all while babysitting her mother-in-law.

  Focus. She showered, dressed, and dried her hair as quietly as possible, hoping not to awake the sleeping giant.

  When Deena came out of the bedroom, Mrs. Sharpe was already up and dressed. Her hair, the color of white frosting, was pinned in a neat bun on the back of her head. Her purple knit pantsuit looked like a Garanimals outfit they used to sell at Sears. She was piddling in the kitchen. “Would you like a cup of coffee, dear?”

  Deena let out a sigh. “Sure.” If her mother-in-law was going to take over her kitchen, she might as well let her serve her. “Milk and sweetener, please.” She sat at the kitchen table and looked at the newspaper. The crossword puzzle had already been filled out.

  “I took the liberty of cleaning out your refrigerator. I’d hate to see you or my baby boy poisoned by any of that spoiled food.” Her reading glasses hung on a chain around her neck. “You really should pay attention to those expiration dates.” She set a cup of coffee and a saucer on the table in front of Deena.

  Deena had forgotten she even had those cups and saucers. She had gotten them as a wedding gift. Usually she just grabbed a large mug or an insulated travel cup.

  “Next, I’m going to start on the pantry.”

  Deena didn’t have the energy to argue. “Thanks,” she mumbled, reading the front page of the newspaper. The main story was Dan’s article about the murder case. No mention of Barbara Conroy or Lizzie Bogmire. She was relieved. Hopefully she could get Betty to speak to Max before the scandal broke about Max’s plagiarism, although compared to a murder charge, it might not seem so shocking to anyone but Betty.

  “Are you reading the story about Max Dekker? It’s so fascinating. It even has your name in it as a possible second victim.” Mrs. Sharpe placed another cup of coffee on the table and sat next to Deena.

  The night before at dinner, Deena had told Gary and his mother all the latest about the Dekker case. The elder Mrs. Sharpe had been mesmerized. Apparently, she was a big fan of the writer and of mysteries in general. She seemed impressed that her daughter-in-law knew the big-time author and was helping him prove his innocence.

  Deena had finally felt a kinship with the woman. It was short-lived, however, when Mrs. Sharpe made a catty remark about going out for dinner instead of Deena having prepared a meal. Of course, her food was too spicy, the service was too slow, and the restaurant was too dark. Besides that, she seemed to enjoy Deena’s story. She thought it was despicable that he had put his name on someone else’s story and vowed to write him a letter to tell him so.

  “Are you going up to the library to talk to that Lizzie woman this morning?” Mrs. Sharpe asked as she finished re-reading the article over Deena’s shoulder.

  “Betty. Lizzie is her sister who passed away. But yes.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” Mrs. Sharpe said. “Maybe whoever killed Mrs. Dekker killed the sister, too. Maybe Max Dekker killed her to keep her quiet.”

  Deena hadn’t considered that angle. “Hmm. Like I said, I think Max is being framed. But maybe Barbara—no, Barbara didn’t seem to know who Lizzie Bogmire was until she found out about the will. But still, maybe Betty will tell me the circumstances surrounding her sister’s death.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “I think it would be best if I spoke to Betty alone, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “All right. You seem to have a real knack for this investigative stuff.”

  Deena smiled and drank down the end of her coffee, relieved Mrs. Sharpe did not insist on accompanying her to the library.

  “But I want to go shopping with you to buy food at the market. I can show you how to save Gary’s hard-earned money, especially now that you aren’t working.”

  And there it was. Just when she thought she could actually like the woman.

  EXPECTING TO BE THE only person there, Deena was surprised to see a group of people milling around the library when she arrived at eight-thirty. A sign on the front counter read: “Genealogy for Beginners,” and she immediately understood why she was the youngest visitor.

  Betty was talking to an elderly couple by one of the computer stations.

  Deena had always been interested in the topic and had once tried some of the ancestry sites online. Afraid she might uncover more relatives like her mother-in-law, she had taken a break from searching.

  Nancy and Betty had overlapping shifts, so Betty was manning the place alone.

  Maybe this wasn’t the best time to do this, but for Deena, it was now or never. She caught Betty’s attention and gestured toward the front counter.

  Betty nodded and told the couple she would be back to help them in a while. “How are you doing, dear?” she asked, looking Deena up and down.

  “I’m fine—thanks to you.”

  Betty dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand. “It was nothing. Are you here for more cookbooks?”

  “What? No. I’ve given up on that. I’m here about you, actually.”

  Betty narrowed her eyes. “Me? Whatever for?”

  “It’s about Max Dekker. He wants to talk to you.”

  “To me? Why would that horrible man want to talk to me?” She glanced around the library at the busy seniors.

  “He’s really not that bad when you get to know him.”

  “Get to know him? I hope I never lay eyes on him again. Why would I want to talk to someone who cheats on his wife, kills her, and then tries to kill my friend? You’d be best to stay away from him yourself, if you know what’s good for you.” Betty walked off toward the computers.

  The last comment caught Deena’s attention. It sounded more like a threat than a warning. She knew this wasn’t going to be an easy sell, so she was ready to pull out the big guns.

  A book about World War I lay on the counter. Deena picked it up and turned to an inside page and strolled over to Betty. She whispered casually, “It’s about your sister.”

  “My sister?” Betty practically yelled.

  “Shhh,” Deena said.
“We’re in a library.” She had always wanted to shush a librarian.

  “But I—” Betty stopped, straightened her shoulders, and marched to the library office.

  Deena followed. By the time she caught up to Betty, the woman’s face had flushed to a bright red.

  “I have no idea what this is about or how my sister could be involved, but I repeat—I have no intention of talking to that despicable man! I want you to stay out of my business and out of this library. You have no right to come in here and start stirring things up, especially after all I’ve done for you. You are nothing but a busybody. Everybody in town says so. Now get out and don’t come back!” She waved her arm, pointing toward the door.

  Deena felt the color drain from her face. Her eyes watered as she turned to leave. She hurried out the door and got in her car. By the time she started the engine, the waterworks had begun to flow.

  She had never upset someone so much in her life. All she wanted to do was help, but it was obvious Betty was hurt.

  I should have minded my own business. Deena covered her face with her hands. She hadn’t realized that her sister’s death had been so hard on Betty. But she should have known. And then to bring up Max Dekker in the same conversation. Deena already knew Betty despised him. She reached in her glove compartment for some tissues and blew her nose.

  She wanted to go back in and apologize. Deena hated loose ends and wanted to tie this one back up and make it right. She looked at her mascara-streaked face in the mirror. Betty wasn’t ready to hear her apology. She knew that. Hopefully, when the time was right, Betty would be more forgiving of Deena than she was of Max Dekker.

  How was she going to face her mother-in-law like this? What would she say? Deena drove around town wishing she had never gotten out of bed.

  Betty’s reaction was downright visceral. Why was she so hateful when it came to Max Dekker? Could she really be so angry just because she saw him kiss the other woman?