Cozy Suburbs Mystery Box Set

by Lisa B. Thomas

  She thought back to their conversation that day in the library. Betty had seemed smitten with Max. She had arranged to have him teach the class. She made him a casserole and gave him all those cookies, for goodness sake. Now she wanted nothing to do with him. Could it be that somehow Betty found out what he had done to her sister?

  It was another blustery day in Maycroft. The trees were dropping their leaves and blanketing the lawns of Butterfly Gardens with Mother Nature’s colorful quilt. Deena couldn’t see the beauty. To her it felt like the world was conspiring to smother her under the weight of the wet blanket.

  At last, she headed home. She parked in the driveway and prepared to face the music.

  “What on earth happened to you?” Mrs. Sharpe asked. “You look like you lost your best friend.”

  Deena rubbed her swollen eyes. “Not my best friend, but a friend nonetheless.”

  Mrs. Sharpe took off the yellow plastic gloves she was wearing to work in the kitchen and engulfed Deena in a tight hug. “Now, now. It’ll all be okay. This too shall pass.”

  Deena stiffened, unaccustomed to physical contact with Gary’s mother. However, those last few words brought on a familiar feeling. Gary often said the same thing to comfort her. She relaxed in the woman’s arms. Maybe her husband got some of his capacity for kindness from his mother after all.

  “Now just sit down over here, and I’ll fix you a nice cup of hot tea.” She led Deena to the kitchen table.

  Deena didn’t want to say that she’d prefer another cup of coffee. “Thank you,” she said. Who knows, maybe hot tea did indeed offer some healing power, like chicken soup or a salt-water gargle.

  Mrs. Sharpe busied herself filling the dusty, rarely used teakettle that Deena kept for decoration on the stove. “Was that Lizzie woman mean to you? Do you want me to talk to her?”

  “Betty,” she said. “Yes, but it was probably my fault. I brought up her sister, and it obviously caused her a lot of pain. That’s when she yelled at me.” Deena felt like a little girl telling her mother about the schoolyard bully. “She said she didn’t want me to ever come back to the library again.”

  “Well now, that’s just silly. It’s a public library. You have just as much right to be there as anyone.” She set a teacup and saucer on the table.

  Deena dabbed her eyes with a tissue as she thought of the stinging words Betty had used. “She also said I was a busybody and that everybody in town agrees.”

  Mrs. Sharpe stamped her foot. “Now that’s simply not true. Just because you try to help people doesn’t make you a busybody.” The teakettle whistled, and she brought it over with a tea bag she must have found in the back of Deena’s pantry. “Why, Gary tells me all the time about how brave you are and proud he is that you stand up for other people. If she doesn’t understand that, well then she can just go jump in the lake.”

  Deena giggled. It warmed her to be defended for a change. She had never dreamed that Gary bragged about her to his mother. The aroma of the brewing tea did its magic. Deena stirred slowly and relaxed.

  Mrs. Sharpe brought a cup for herself and sat down with Deena. “This Lizzie–I mean Betty—sounds like a real piece of work. She’s saving your life one minute, and then biting your head off the next. Sounds like a crazy woman to me.”

  Smiling, Deena blew into her cup and took a sip. She relished the hot brew traveling down her insides, filling a place in her soul she hadn’t realized was empty.

  Mrs. Sharpe set down her cup. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she comes from a long line of crazies. After all, who has two daughters with the same name?”

  Tilting her head, Deena asked, “What do you mean?”

  “Back in my day, no one was named Betty or Lizzie.” Those were both just nicknames. Shortened versions of Elizabeth.”

  Deena took another sip of tea. She thought for a minute. Then a chill came over her despite the warm tea. Goosebumps popped out on her arms. It seemed she had a clear head for the first time in two weeks. She sucked in a deep breath and shivered.

  “Are you all right, dear?”

  “I’ve got to go,” Deena said and leaped out of the chair. “I’ll explain later.” She grabbed her purse and keys off the entry table and dashed out to her car.

  Betty Donaldson just thought she had seen the last of Deena.

  Chapter 24

  Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner? Obviously, Betty had been obsessed with Max Dekker. She had practically blackmailed the woman at the college to get her to set up the writing class. Had Betty planned at that point to kill Max or was she really after his wife?

  Deena’s mind went back to that first day in class. Betty had been late because she had gone home to get supper. But when it was time to serve Lydia’s cookies, she said she was starving. For a woman who was so thin and gaunt that she could walk between the raindrops, it was doubtful she could pack away much food. That must have been when she went to the salon to cut Alexis’s brake line. Plus, she obviously knew her way around cars. She proved that the night she supposedly saved Deena’s life.

  Cookies. Betty had taken that big stack and put them on the desk for Max. That must have been when she dropped the greasy handkerchief in his briefcase. She had been wearing little plastic gloves like they wear to serve food in the school cafeteria. And Deena just thought Betty was being precautious because of germs. That sneak!

  Deena pressed down harder on the gas pedal, blinding rage taking over her good sense. The closer she got to the library, the more convinced she was that Betty had killed Alexis Dekker.

  So why try to frame Max for his wife’s murder and then take him a casserole? Maybe to pretend to care about him? Deena would have to get that answer from Betty before she wrung her neck. The streetlight turned yellow at Main and Crawford, and Deena punched it. She pulled into a spot near the front door and leaped out of her car.

  Inside, the genealogy group was gone. In a back corner sat the Pee Wee Story Time Circle. A group of small children listened as a woman read aloud.

  No sign of Betty.

  Deena stormed over to the front counter and banged repeatedly on the little metal bell.

  Betty came out from the back, her usual sour face more puckered than normal. Seeing Deena, her eyes widened and her mouth dropped.

  “It was you, wasn’t it?” Deena scowled across the counter, pointing a shaky finger. “How dare you play the self-righteous martyr when you knew all along you were guilty!”

  A shushing sound arose from the back of the library. Deena turned to see the whole group of mommies and their children admonishing her. When she turned back around, Betty was gone.

  Deena raced around the counter into the back office.

  Betty stood by a tall file cabinet trying to unlock it.

  Balling her fists, Deena said, “Admit it! I want to hear you say it.”

  Betty’s hand shook as she tried to aim the key into the small hole. “Now dear, I don’t know what you think I have done, but I can assure you—”

  Deena rushed toward her and grabbed at the key, knocking it to the floor. “Murderer! You killed Alexis Dekker and tried to frame Max. Then you went after me.”

  Betty threw an elbow at Deena and picked up the key. “You’re insane!” The cabinet clicked open, and she reached down to pull open the bottom drawer.

  Deena banged it shut with her foot. “Liar! I know who you are, Elizabeth Bogmire. That was your maiden name, right? The name you used when you wrote that short story back in college.”

  Betty turned around slowly and glared at Deena. Her expression had changed. Her dark eyes and stiff lips revealed a look that was both maniacal and amused. “So you figured it out. Well, good for you.”

  “Will you two hold it down in here?” It was a woman from the reading circle. “You’re scaring the children.”

  “Good!” Betty shouted. “I hate those kids anyway.”

  The woman gasped.

  “Call the police!” Deena yelled. “Call 9-1-1.”

&n
bsp; The woman turned on her heels before she was able to see Betty cold-cock Deena with a stapler to the back of her head.

  Deena stumbled forward but caught herself on the desk. She picked up a three-hole punch and swung it like a bat toward Betty who managed to duck just in time.

  “I should have let you die, too! Then Max Dekker would be in prison, and you wouldn’t have gotten in my way.” Betty charged at Deena, pushing her backward toward the laminating machine. Deena’s right arm pressed against the hot roller, and she let out a scream.

  But then her short stint at karate class kicked in. Tears blurred her vision as she swung her leg around to kick her attacker. She was surprised when her foot made contact with Betty’s shoulder. Deena didn’t know she could get her leg that high. Must have been the extra adrenaline.

  Betty flew backward, knocking a large computer monitor onto the floor. Bits of glass and plastic sprayed her legs like shrapnel as she landed on the hard linoleum. She crawled toward the back exit, trying to push open the heavy glass door.

  Deena reached for a book off the rolling cart and hurled it at Betty. “Here! Shelve this, you old witch!” She grabbed at the books, throwing them like grenades as Betty tried to bat them away. A particularly large cookbook met its target, hitting Betty square in the face.

  Betty reached up and grabbed her bloody nose just as the sirens sounded and flashing lights flickered outside the back door.

  The officers rushed in to find Betty crumpled on the floor, and Deena holding a dictionary. “Well, this is a fine mess,” the officer said.

  Deena recognized him from the night her brake line had been cut. “Arrest her, officer,” Deena said as she gasped to catch her breath. “She killed Alexis Dekker and then tried to kill me.”

  IT TOOK A WHILE TO sort things out. The police hauled both Deena and Betty to the station. Ian came and sat with Deena while she gave her statement.

  Luckily, the woman who called the police had stepped back into the office in time to hear Betty’s confession. Her testimony sealed Betty’s fate and corroborated Deena’s story.

  According to Detective Guttman, Betty had no remorse for her crime and even bragged about the details once she realized she’d been caught—hook, line, and sinker.

  Detective Guttman insisted that Deena be checked out at the hospital before she returned home. The burn on her arm was pretty bad, and from the looks of the bump on the back of her head, she might have a concussion.

  That took another hour or so, although Deena had lost track of the time. She had left her purse and cellphone in her car at the library, so she borrowed Ian’s phone to call Gary. As usual, Gary was in a meeting, so she left a message for him to call Ian.

  As a nurse wrapped her arm in gauze, someone pulled back the examining room curtain and stepped inside. It was Dan.

  Deena couldn’t believe it. He must have charmed his way to the back of the emergency room. “How did you know I was here?”

  “I heard on the police scanner there was a disturbance at the library, and I had a feeling you’d be involved.” He touched the side of his nose. “I’ve always told you I can smell a news story from miles away. So who won the fight, you or Betty Donaldson?”

  “I think I did.”

  “That’s my girl.” He sat in a chair. “Of course, you may have won the battle, but there’s still a war going on out there. There are a lot of Betty Donaldsons, and that’s why you need to come back to work at the newspaper. You can help trap these rats and keep the mean streets of Maycroft safe and sound.”

  “Dan, don’t be so cynical. Maycroft is a great place to live. Unfortunately, there are some people who fall prey to evil, but to say the place is crawling with rats? That’s a bit much, don’t you think? I mean, Betty wasn’t always like this, I’m sure.”

  Dan crossed his legs and brushed dirt off the side of his boot. “Like Mark Antony said, ‘The evil that men do lives after them. The good is often buried with their bones.’”

  Always the teacher, Deena corrected him. “Interred, not buried. If you’re gonna quote Shakespeare, at least get it right. You don’t want to be accused of plagiarism, after all.”

  WHEN DAN DROPPED HER off at the house, Gary was just pulling in. He opened the car door to help her out. “I talked to Ian. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, just a little bumped and bruised—and burned.”

  Gary stuck his head around the car door. “Thanks for bringing her home.”

  “No problem,” Dan said. “See you tomorrow at the party.”

  Gary shut the car door and led Deena by the shoulders. “You invited him to my birthday party?”

  “It just kinda came out.”

  “You know I’m not going to lecture you about all of this now, but don’t think we’re not going to talk about it later,” Gary said, opening the front door.

  “I know.” She walked straight to the kitchen table and sat down, resting her arm on the table so Hurley wouldn’t scratch it as he jumped. “You realize that I found the killer, right?”

  “I do. How did you figure out it was Betty Donaldson?”

  “It was actually something your mother said about Betty’s name. By the way, where is your mother?”

  “Maybe she’s resting.” Gary disappeared down the hallway. When he came back, his face was pale. “She’s not there, but her car was in the garage, right?”

  “Check the backyard,” Deena said. After what she’d just been through, she had lost the energy to panic.

  Gary hurried to the patio. “She’s not there either,” he said, his voice cracking. “What should we do? Call the police?”

  Deena got up and walked toward the kitchen, spotting something on the counter. It was a piece of paper. She doubted it was a ransom note. The kidnappers would have willingly returned her mother-in-law by now. Deena read it aloud. “‘At the neighbor’s house making coke.’” She looked up at Gary. Now she was worried. “Making coke? Like cocaine? Do you think she’s at Ed’s house next door? I should have guessed he was a drug dealer!” She started toward the door.

  Gary grabbed the note from her hand. “This doesn’t say coke—it says cake. She’s making a cake.”

  Deena smile sheepishly. “Ohhh. That makes more sense. She must be at Christy Ann’s.”

  Gary held Deena’s arm as they crossed the street. Christy Ann’s five-year-old son answered the door. “Mommy, that lady is here!” he yelled and shut the door in their faces. Christy Ann returned, her blonde locks perfectly coifed. She wore a cute, ruffled apron. “Come on in, you two. Sylvia and I were just finishing up.”

  Deena glanced at Gary and then followed Christy Ann. It was only the second time Deena had been inside the dragon’s lair. It was messier this time, with kids’ toys strewn everywhere. The TV blared, and the three children seemed to be competing for their mother’s attention. The baby won. Christy Ann picked her up and put her in a highchair in the kitchen.

  The aroma of sweet baked goods filled the room. Mrs. Sharpe sat at the kitchen table cutting up a mound of fresh fruits and vegetables. “Well, look who decided to finally come home. After we made the cake—you know, the one you said you could bake yourself with no problem—we decided to work on the party food over here. That was several hours ago.”

  “But I—”

  Gary came to the rescue. “Mother, Deena has been at the hospital.”

  His mother turned and stared at Deena’s bandaged arm. “Oh dear. Bless your heart. Come sit down. Are you all right? Do you need anything? Were you in an accident in that big fancy car of yours?”

  Christy Ann brought Deena a glass of iced tea. “Oh my. Your hair is a mess. What happened?”

  It seemed Christy Ann and Sylvia Sharpe were two peas spawned from the same pod. “I’m fine.” She took a sip of the sweet elixir. “I got in a fight with Betty Donaldson at the library.”

  “Like a fist-fight?” asked Christy Ann, her nose wrinkled with disgust.

  “It was more of an office-supply fight.” Deen
a proceeded to tell the whole story while Christy Ann dashed back and forth between the kitchen and the family room. Christy Ann already knew a surprising amount of information about the case, courtesy of the Maycroft gossip mill.

  By the time Deena told them about how she had put the clues together and reenacted the fight scene, the vegetables and fruit were chopped, the homemade dips were prepared, and there were four dozen freshly baked cookies packed up in little tins. The only thing left was the big cake reveal.

  When Christy Ann pulled the cover off the cake plate, there sat a perfectly delicious-looking chocolate swirl cake garnished around the bottom with white, fluffy divinity clouds.

  All Deena could say was, “What?”

  “You don’t like it?” Christy Ann asked, sticking out her bottom lip.

  “Oh, it’s not that. In fact, it’s beautiful. It’s just not what I had envisioned at all.”

  “What ever do you mean, child?” Mrs. Sharpe asked.

  Deena’s eyes darted back and forth between the cake and her mother-in-law. Had this been a trick? “I thought the recipe said to put the divinity in the cake, not on it. Where’s that card?”

  Christy Ann presented her with the recipe and smirked. “Looks like someone needs some reading glasses.”

  Mrs. Sharpe let out a boisterous laugh. “Can you even imagine?” She turned to Christy Ann as if they were sharing a private joke. “Honey,” she said to Deena, “maybe you better just stay out of the kitchen and stick to solving mysteries. I’m surprised you haven’t burned down the whole house!”

  Chapter 25

  Gary’s sister and her family arrived early. Gary manned the grill on the patio. Deena helped Mrs. Sharpe set out the food.

  Christy Ann and her kids were the first of the non-family guests to arrive. Her husband, Parker, was still on the golf course and would be joining them later. She gave Deena quick air kisses and went straight to Mrs. Sharpe, hugging her shoulders. “Sylvia! You look so pretty today.”