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Authors: Cynthia Hickey

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Chapter Four

The next morning, I eyed the unrolled newspaper
on the store counter. The information it might contain ate at me. What I should
have been doing was keeping an eagle eye on the two teenagers in the store, who
most likely skipped school that morning. Instead, they ogled and played with a
display of Swarovski crystal earrings Lindsey had made. My daughter had a
talent for making jewelry, if these girls’ oohs and
aahs
were any indication.

When a van of residents from our local
retirement community arrived, I realized it would be a while before I could sit
down with the paper. I sighed and plastered on a smile as ten gray-haired
ladies pushed through the door. Once inside, they scattered to the four corners
in pursuit of their own delights.

One of the teenagers, oh so casually,
slipped a pair of earrings in her pocket. Right out in the open, like I was
blind or something. I was more than capable of watching the girls and the older
ladies, and resented the girl’s unspoken view of my abilities. I sashayed from
behind the counter and stood by the front door. Arms crossed, legs spread
shoulder width apart,
I
glared. “Put them back.”

“What?” Her eyes widened. “I wasn’t going
to steal them. Just keep them there until I finished shopping.”

“Right.” I pointed. That’s why she headed
for the door. “Back. Now.”

Face red, the girl hung the earrings back
on the rack.

“Y’all take anything else?”

They shook their heads.

“Now, leave. You’re no longer welcome in
this store. I will look you up in the yearbook so I have names to go with your
faces.” I put my customer service smile back in place. “Have a nice day.”

One of them called me a name that rhymed
with witch. The other just glared as if she wanted to stick a knife in my back.
No worries. I had a teenage daughter and was quite familiar with evil looks.
But, I would still be phoning the high school principal about their ditching.

Soon, a line formed at the counter as the
retirement home van honked outside. The residents bought everything from
potholders to a quilt. By the time they left, my smile was no longer forced. It
had turned into a very productive morning.

With the morning quiet again, I picked up
the basket of wedding placemats and sat in one of the rocking chairs we had for
sale and got to work. In, out, in, out, the needle and silver embroidery thread
flashed, and my mind wandered. I really wanted to open that newspaper, but if I
did before Mom got back from her shopping trip to replenish our supplies, she’d
kill me. Literally.

I glanced at the clock. She’d been gone
for over two hours. Had she left me to mind the store all day again? Since her
marriage, Mom seemed more content to stay home with her new husband than tend
the shop. I snipped off the thread and grabbed another placemat. Not that I
could blame her. Once Duane and I got married, I wouldn’t want to leave home
either.

Why hadn’t I set a wedding date? I loved
him without a doubt. Was it because I felt guilty marrying the brother of my
late husband? Sure, Duane was my first love, but he’d deserted me to move on to
bigger and better things, leaving his brother to pick up the pieces. Was I
afraid he would do it again? I shook my head.

We’d both grown up in the ten years he’d
been off to college. Duane loved me with the love of a man now, not a teenage
boy. I glanced out the window at the sight of said man. Why wasn’t he at work?
And why was he strolling down the sidewalk with Stacy hanging on his arm? I
leaped up, placemats falling back into the basket at my feet.

Duane and Stacy entered the coffee shop
across the street. I admitted Duane was probably on his prep time at school,
but why would he be spending time with the one person I disliked the most in
River Valley? My heart sank. Suddenly, I needed coffee in the worst way.

After flipping the sign to closed, and a
little clock to show I’d return in fifteen minutes, I locked the store door and
dashed across the street. Before barging inside like a maniac, I took a moment
to breathe deeply and pat my hair into place. As usual, curls escaped my
ponytail holder and danced in the abundant joy of freedom.

I headed straight for the counter where I
ordered the largest mocha iced coffee they had, and a slice of lemon pound
cake. While I waited, I scanned the room. There they were; in a cozy little
corner. By the time the barista handed me my order, my neck burned. Still, I
could play things cool. I strolled their way, clamping my teeth around the
straw.

“Duane. Stacy. What a surprise.”

His face reddened, and he leaped to his
feet to pull out a chair. “Stacy is doing an article on the football team. Care
to join us?”

I gave Stacy a simpering smile.
“Delegated to high school sports? I’m so sorry.”

She rolled her eyes. “The newspaper is
cutting back on employees, so we all have to cover extra. With all the ways
available to get the news electronically, subscriptions are way down.” Her
blood red lips parted in a grin. “But, I don’t mind. It gives me the
opportunity to reconnect with Duane.”

“How wonderful.” I slipped my arm around
his neck and gave him a kiss he wouldn’t forget anytime soon. “See you for
dinner, sweetheart.” With a pat to his cheek that might have been a little too
hard for a love tap, I marched out the door and back to the store, feeling
every inch the jealous wench that I’d proven to be.

Resuming my seat in the rocker, coffee in
one hand, cake in the other, I continued to stare out the window as tears
pricked my eyes. What an idiot I was.
Just a harmless
interview in a public place.
Was I really that insecure? I owed Duane a
huge apology, and a time of repentance spent with God.

Mom breezed through the door, arms loaded
with bags and packages. “Look at all the bargains. We can make so many new
things for the store.” She dropped her purchases on the counter and took a
quick sweep of the store. “Productive morning?”

“How do you do that? Know with one glance
what is bought?” I shoved the last of the cake in my mouth and went to help her
unpack.

“Experience. Besides, if you put everything
in its place, it’s easy to spot when something is gone.” She narrowed her eyes
and studied my face. “What’s wrong? Is there something in the paper?”

“I was waiting for you before looking.” I
piled several skeins of yarn on the counter, seeing an afghan in my future.
“Duane is across the street with Stacy having coffee. He said she’s
interviewing him about the football team.”

“Tell me you didn’t go over there and
make a fuss.” Mom planted fists on her hips. “No man wants a jealous woman,
Marsha. Either you trust him or you don’t.” Her eyes raked my body. “It
wouldn’t hurt for you to start dressing more feminine, either. Overalls are not
becoming.”

But they hide a lot of body
imperfections. “I trust him, but I couldn’t help myself. It’s an illness.” The next
things out of the bag were several boxes of crystals in every color of the
rainbow. Lindsey would be thrilled. “Now, her…I trust about an inch.”

“You know what I always say. Life is too
short for foolishness.” Mom stuffed the empty bag in a container so they could
be reused. “Now, let’s look at that paper.” She popped off the rubber band and
tossed it into a desk caddy.

The bell over the door jangled, signaling
the arrival of more customers. Mom greeted them with a smile and, when they
expressed interest in some crafting books, she moseyed their way to help them
decide on a purchase. I started to think we’d never get to read the obits.

Duane and Stacy headed back down the
sidewalk, Duane casting a somber glance toward Gifts from Country Heaven. Oh,
yeah. Apology.

I fished my cell phone from my purse
under the counter and texted him that I was sorry. I watched through the window
as he read his text,
then
gave a thumbs-up toward me.
I knew he couldn’t see me, but I waved anyway, my heart lighter.

Obviously, Thursday was the new senior
citizen’s day at the store. Customers drifted in and out all day. It wasn’t
until almost closing time that Mom and I were able to open the paper. We
bypassed the news and went straight to the obituaries, scanning the list of two
names.

“Do you recognize either of them?” I
asked.

Mom nodded, her face pale under her
makeup. “Dotty Baker.”

“Dead or alive?”

“Very much alive. We just sold her a book
on quilts.” Mom raced out the front of the store, returning within ten minutes
with a fuming Dotty in tow.

Dotty’s
pink-tinted hair
quivered with rage, reminding me of cotton candy on the end of a paper cone.
“Have you gone completely crazy,
Gertie
? You should
never drag a woman away from her date, much less a senior discount dinner at Wanda’s.”

“You weren’t there yet.” Mom tapped the
paper. “Read.”

“So? It’s obviously a mistake.” Her brow
furrowed.

“Don’t you follow the news?” I asked.
“Mae Campbell and Nina Worth both had their names in the obituaries before
dying in a gas leak explosion at their house thirty days later.”

“I don’t have gas in my house,” Dotty
explained. “All of the retirement units are run by electricity. Now, Marsha,
Gertie
, I know the two of you fancy yourselves amateur
sleuths, but this time you’ve gone too far. I have a perfectly fine gentleman
waiting for me at the diner.” She glanced at her watch. “Thanks to you, I’m
late.”

“You’ll be permanently late if you’re
dead!”
Gertie
poked her in the chest with her
forefinger. “Do you think we’ve put your name in there on purpose? You
ungrateful old biddy.”

What exactly was going on here?
“Ladies—”

“I wouldn’t put it past you, you
man-stealing—” Dottie’s hair shook harder.

“Excuse me?” Mom stepped forward until
their noses almost touched. “You can’t take something from someone that never
belonged to them.”

Hmmm. Had Mom stolen Dad
from Dotty?
I thought of Stacy and Duane. How history did tend to repeat itself.

“Mom, Mrs. Baker, now is not the time or
the place to rehash old arguments.” I folded the paper. “This needs to be taken
seriously.”

“I don’t have time right now,” Dotty
said. “I’ve got a good thing going with my present boyfriend, and I don’t
intend to let Nancy Drew and Miss
Marple
ruin it.”
She took a deep breath and fumbled in her purse, bringing out a tube of lipstick
the same shade of pink as her hair. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, according to the
two of you, I only have thirty days to bring this man to the altar.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Dottie,
dear.” Mom tilted her chin. “Only the Lord suffers a fool.”

“Leave me alone,
Gertie
.
After dinner, I’m reporting you two to Officer Barnett. What an evil game
you’re playing just to get noticed in the River Valley News. Again.” With those
words, she flounced out of the store.

Mom and I glanced at each other,
then
shrugged. “We did what we could,” Mom said. “She’s
never been the shiniest button in the jar.”

“You know as well as I do, that she’s
going to be killed next.” I rattled the paper. “We can’t let that happen.”

“I’ll talk to her again, when she’s
calmed down.” Mom smirked. “I probably didn’t present things to her in the best
way possible.”

“What did you say?”

“Come with me if you want to live.”

 
 

Chapter Five

I mixed a salad for supper and kept glancing at
the front door, waiting—hoping—for Duane to arrive. I’d taken his
thumbs up as assurance he wasn’t angry with me for my childish actions in the
coffee shop. Maybe I’d interpreted the gesture wrong. Maybe it was only a sign
that we would be talking, with me doing most of the listening. Sighing, I
chopped through a red bell pepper until I had nothing but a diced pile on the
chopping board.

“Foolish woman.” Mom came inside from the
back porch and slammed the phone handset on the receiver. “I tried again to
explain to Dotty about her impending danger, but she hung up on me.” Mom
crossed her arms and glared at the phone. “Says we’re making things up in order
to get our names in the paper again. Stupid!”

“There’s nothing we can do about it. We
tried to tell her.” If we were right, guilt would be almost overwhelming,
despite knowing we’d done all we could. Especially, if something happened to
the stubborn woman. There had to be a way to save Dotty before the month ran
out.

I sensed Duane before I saw him. It
amazed me how the air changed the moment he walked into a room. All my senses
tingled. I whirled as he leaned against the kitchen doorframe, crooked smile on
his face.

“I’m so sorry.” Dropping the butcher
knife onto the counter, I threw myself into his arms.

“You silly woman.” He led me to a chair,
then
sat me on his lap. “There is no one but you. You hold
my heart in your hands. Without you, my heart would never recover.”

Sighing, I buried my face in the crook of
his neck. A spot God had made just for me. “That woman has always made me
behave like a crazy person.”

“It’s just an interview.” His arms
tightened around me. “I’m sure there will be more. You need to trust me,
Marsha.”

“I do. It’s her I don’t trust.” My voice
was muffled.

“So you’ve said.” He chuckled and set me
on my feet, then turned me to face him. His smile faded. “Now, to change the
subject. Tell me you and
Gertie
aren’t going to try
and solve another mystery. Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

“Yes, I remember, but if we don’t do
something, Dotty will die. I’m convinced of it.”

He sighed. “I know you well enough to
know you’re going to do what you want, but I can still hope you’ll be smart
about it.”

I bent and planted a kiss on his
forehead. “I won’t do anything stupid.”

“Of course not.” He gave me a playful
swat on the rear. “Now get to cooking, woman. I’m starving. Sexy reporters who
want to interview me always give me an appetite.”

“Ha. I ought not to feed you after that
remark.”

“But you will.”

“Yes, I will.” I tapped his nose with my
forefinger and stood. Straightening the bib on my overalls, I wondered whether
Mom was right. Maybe I should wear a dress once in a while, or maybe a nice
pair of capris. Then, I could set Duane’s heart to fluttering the same way he
did mine.

“What’s the matter with you?” Mom asked
as I strolled into the kitchen.

“I’m thinking of getting rid of the
overalls.” I opened the cabinet and pulled out five glasses.

Mom felt my forehead. “Are you sick?”

“Stop it.” I set the glasses around the
table. “Aren’t you the one who’s always saying I should dress more like a
woman?”

“You never listen to anything I say. Get
you some of those jeans with the sparkles on the butt.” Mom pulled the steak
from the broiler, set it on top of the stove, then marched to the back door.
“Time to eat!”

Now all the neighbors knew. I shook my
head and finished setting the table at the same time I heard Lindsey thunder
across the porch. Leroy followed her,
then
Duane
appeared from the living room. My family was complete.

Conversation ceased for the first few
minutes of supper. Then, Leroy shattered the peace. “So, what did you two women
do at the shop today?”

“Uh.” Mom glanced at me and stuck a bite
of meat in her mouth.

“We were very busy.” I grinned. “The
retirement home sent over a van full of citizens to spend their hard-earned retirement
checks in our store.”

“That’s great.” He glanced around the
kitchen. “I looked for the newspaper this morning, but couldn’t find it. Did
someone move it?”

Mom choked. She always was subtle.

I reached over and pounded on her back.
“I didn’t move it.” Well, I didn’t, really. It sat on the counter all day,
right where Mom left it.

Duane studied me over the rim of his
glass. “There’s something you aren’t telling us. Marsha. You’re a horrible
liar.”

“I took the paper.” Mom took a deep
breath, then a gulp of milk. “We wanted to look at the obituaries. Sorry,
Leroy. I didn’t even think how you enjoy the paper with your morning coffee.”

“I almost called the newspaper office to
have them deliver another one,” he said.

“So,” Duane wiped his mouth with his
napkin. “What’s in the obits?”

“Dotty Baker.” Mom leaned forward. “Her
name is in the obits, and she’s very much alive and angry with me.”

Mom had a tendency to run off at the
mouth like a tsunami when cornered. I closed my eyes and let her go.

“Why, the very moment we saw her name, I
tracked her down. She’d just bought some things from us. I warned her, but
instead of being alarmed, do you know what she did?” Without waiting for a
response, she continued. “She got angry with me for making her late for a date.
Imagine that.”

“Imagine that.” Duane tossed his napkin
on his plate and stood. “Marsha, may I speak with you outside, please?”

Uh-oh. I expelled a deep breath and
nodded. Lindsey chose that moment to start clearing off the table and avoided
my gaze. I stood and followed Duane’s ramrod-straight back to the yard.

He continued to the back fence,
then
gripped the top rail. “You’re going to get involved.”

“How can I not? Bruce doesn’t believe
there’s anything to be concerned about.” I stood with my back against the wood
rail and stared into his stony face. “I can’t stand back and let another woman
die.”

“I’ll talk to Bruce. Convince him to call
in backup. Even he has to consider the fact now that two women have died.” He
glanced at me.

“What if Mom’s name turns up in the
paper?” I kicked at a dead leaf near my foot. “Or mine?”

His shoulders slumped. “I almost lost
you, Marsha. That crazy woman did poison you.”

“And you.”

“We’re not talking about me!” Raking his
hands through his hair, he shook his head. “I couldn’t live if something
happened to you. Why can’t you stay out of these things?”

Why couldn’t I? Was it the thrill of
outsmarting a killer? Of rubbing into Bruce’s face that I could solve something
he couldn’t? Was I so desperate for better self-esteem that I had to put myself
in harm’s way in order to feel like somebody? I stared into Duane’s eyes. They
darkened in the gathering dusk: Eyes so full of pain and love that stabbed at
my heart.

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “It’s like
the mystery cries out to me. I don’t go looking for them, you know that. Yet,
here I am, thrust into another one.”

“Is that why you haven’t set a wedding
date?” He put his hands on my shoulders. “Because, as your husband, I would
have the power to tell you no?”

Power? I frowned. “You can tell me no,
now. I’ll try to honor your wishes, but no man will ever have power over me,
Duane. Your brother tried, and failed.” That was it.

The reason I balked at setting a date. I
was afraid one Steele brother was the same as the other. It had crushed me when
Duane ran off after graduating “to find himself”. While my first husband,
Robert, loved me, of that I had no doubt, he’d never let go of the fact that
I’d loved his brother first. To compensate, he’d tried to rule over me.

“I love you, Marsha, but I can’t talk about
this right now.” He whirled and stormed around the corner of the house, leaving
me as alone as Robert had at his death.

Tears welled in my eyes and ran down my
cheeks. Not able to face the rest of my family, I turned and entered the
guesthouse. The two-bedroom, cottage-style house had always been a sanctuary to
me, even before I’d cleaned and renovated it. Now, looking around at the comfy
furnishings, they brought me no pleasure.

Had I run Duane off for good this time?
Would he smarten up and break off our engagement? I plopped on the sofa and
hugged a pillow to my aching chest. I’d tell him right now that I wouldn’t work
on the mystery. I’d beg him to forgive me.

After digging my cell phone out of the
bib pocket of my overalls, I punched in his number. “I’m sorry,” I said before
he could say a word. “I won’t work on this mystery. Go to Bruce, tell him our
concerns. Don’t be mad at me. Don’t…break up with me.”

“Sweetheart.” A shadow filled my doorway,
and there he stood.

With a sob, I threw myself into his arms.
“Forgive me for being so stupid?”

He gathered my face in his hands and
kissed me. “Always. I’ll respect your wishes, Marsha, but you have to respect
mine, too. If you want to dabble in another mystery, can you at least promise
me that you’ll let me know where you are at all times? That you’ll tell me when
you go somewhere and when you return? I’ll be out of my mind with worry.” He
leaned his forehead against mine.

“I can promise that, Duane. Easily.” I
laid my face on his chest. “And I won’t do anything unless Bruce refuses to
listen to you. And I won’t go anywhere without Mom.”

He chuckled. “I’m not sure you being with
Gertie
is much of a relief, but I’ll take what I can
get.”

“I think all the victims have been a part
of that quilting group that will be meeting at our store.” I tightened my hold
around his waist. “I can ask questions and never leave work.”

“You have a one-track mind, Marsha
Steele.” He pulled free and laid his arm around my shoulder. “Your Mom made a
chocolate cake for dessert. Interested?”

Grinning, I nodded. “You bet.”

“Then come, my little gumshoe. You can’t
solve a mystery without chocolate fortification.”

“I love you.” The man made me so happy, I
couldn’t think straight. Knowing he believed me about the deaths, and was
willing to talk Bruce into taking things seriously, warmed me better than any
chocolate ever could.

Now, knowing that he supported me, I
could call the newspaper tomorrow and find out exactly how someone can put an
obit into the paper without checking out the facts.

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