Advance Notice (5 page)

Chapter Eight

By Thursday, my nerves were shot. The feud
between Mom and Dottie had to stop. Why couldn’t the old
biddie
see that Mom only wanted to help her? With only three weeks left before the deadline,
my stomach churned. Especially knowing that Dottie would be one of the quilters
meeting at the shop in an hour. I’d have the pleasure of listening to more back
and forth insults from her and Mom.

I set a pitcher of iced sweet tea and a
tray of
Snickerdoodle
cookies on a side table. Mom
said it wouldn’t do not to have separate snacks for the ladies. They wouldn’t
want the same ones we had in the main shop with the coffee. They needed to feel
special.

Whatever. The bell over the door,
followed by loud voices, announced the women’s arrival. I squared my shoulders
and prayed I could work the front of the store and let Mom flutter around the
ladies. Of course, if I did that, I might not pick up any juicy gossip. I was
in a quandary.

“Don’t just stand there.” Mom
straightened the pile of napkins,
then
turned with a
gracious smile. “Greet our guests.”

“Good morning, ladies.” I forced a smile.
“The shop opens in thirty minutes, but I can help you now, if you need to
purchase anything.”

Mom stomped my foot. What? Weren’t we
here to make money?

Hammering started outside, competing with
the women’s conversation. Oh, this could get interesting. Maybe I would stay
and let Mom run the store. Sure enough, not ten minutes in and before the first
needle pierced the backing of the first square, Dottie and Betty glowered at
each other, then at me.

“Do we have to listen to that the entire
time?” Betty practically crumpled the square in her hand. “I’ll have a
frightful headache. We may have to reconsider our choice of meeting place.”

“Just be glad they aren’t trying to kill
you,” Dottie said. “I still say we should have checked to see if we could meet
at the church.”

“We are not trying to kill you.” I opened
the back door. “We’re trying to keep you alive.” Her strident voice as she
explained the circumstances to the other women followed me.

“Leroy, the girls are complaining about
the noise.” I slowly closed the door so it wouldn’t slam.

“You want this room finished or not?”

“It’s going to be bad for business.” I
caught sight of Danny lurking around the corner. Most likely afraid I’d bump
into him again. “Hey, Danny.”

“I suppose we could spend the morning sawing.
Or will that bother the queens?”

What was up with Leroy? My usually
mild-mannered stepfather acted like he had a burr in the waistband of his
underpants. “That should be fine. Thank you.” Come to think of it, Mom was a
little snippy, too. I had more than one mystery to solve.

I marched inside, took Mom by the hand,
and dragged her out of ear shot of the other women. “What is wrong with you and
Leroy? Are y’all having problems?”

“No.” Her eyes widened,
then
filled with tears. “He wants me to sell you my half of
the store so we can travel. That silly man wants to buy an RV.”

Didn’t sound like much of a problem to
me. “So…you’re upset because your husband wants to spend every waking moment
with you. The nerve!” I tried to keep my mouth from twitching, and failed.

“It’s not funny.” She pulled a tissue
from the pocket of her apron. “I love this store, but I love Leroy, too. What
will we do with the house?”

I chewed my bottom lip, still not knowing
what the problem was. “Lindsey and I can move into the house. I can hire
part-time help here at the store, and you can be a silent partner. That way, if
y’all get tired of gallivanting around the country, you can come back to work.”

She cupped my face. “I raised the
smartest daughter in River Valley, if not the entire world.”

“Agreed.” I gave her a hug then a gentle
shove back to our guests. “Go find me some juicy gossip.”

Part-time help wouldn’t be difficult.
Lindsey was my first choice, and I was sure one of her friends would be willing
to earn some money. The long days might be harder to fill, especially with my
two-hours a week of checking into the newspaper. But, if I’d learned anything
in my life, it was that God worked everything out. All we had to do was trust
and wait.

Danny slipped through the front door, his
hair hanging in his face. “Leroy wants to know if there’s any more tea, or if
the women drank it all.”

“I can make more. Tell him I’ll be out in
fifteen minutes.”

The young man nodded and skedaddled as
silently as he’d come in. That boy had a story for sure. Maybe one day, I’d
have time to find out what it was.

By the time I had the tea made and
delivered to the hard working men out back, the women had stopped stitching to
take a break. At the rate they were drinking, I’d need another pitcher of tea
for them, too. I turned toward the small kitchenette counter as the bell over
the door announced a shopper. The quilters would have to wait.

Stacy stepped inside and stopped. Her
perfectly made-up face crinkled, and I fought back the urge to tell her such a
look would cause wrinkles that no amount of expensive makeup would cover. She
heaved a dramatic sigh. “This place is so cutesy it makes me want to gag.”

“Can I help you?” My frosty tone matched
hers.

“Just point me to the quilters. Frank
seems to think their new group is newsworthy.” Shaking her head, she ran her
hands down the skirt of her pin-striped gray suit. “I told him to let you
handle the mundane type of articles, but he said you aren’t ready.”

“I don’t do the news.” Just gossip. I
grinned, wondering whether there was some juicy tidbit I could post about her.
“The ladies are through that door.”

Chin tilted, shoulders squared, Stacy
clutched a notebook to her chest and sashayed her way out of my sight. Her
entrance seemed to open the floodgates, and I stayed busy with customers for
the next half-hour. By the time the last one left, there was fifteen minutes
left of the quilters’ time. I hadn’t had the opportunity to glean any gossip
for my column. With one last glance at the empty door, I hurried into the back
room.

“You are a mean, spiteful woman.” Dottie
pointed an arthritic finger at Stacy. “Just because you waltz in here with your
fake…boobs…you think you’re better than the rest of us. Well, let me tell you,
girlie, that a man wants a real woman. Not a plastic one.”

Bingo. Column tidbit. I grinned and
crossed my arms, waiting for Stacy’s response.

“You wouldn’t know what it takes to get a
man if it bit you in your wrinkled bottom.”

“I’ll have you know,” Betty Larson spoke
up. “That Dottie is the most sought after woman at the retirement home. Why,
she won last year’s beauty contest. You should know, since you interviewed her.”

“And I’ll win this year’s, too.” Dottie
glared.

“If you’re still alive,” Mom piped in.

“Don’t start that again!” Dottie whirled
on her like a duck on a June bug.

“What’s this?” Stacy clicked her pen.
“Who’s dying?”

“Nobody. Certainly not me.” Dottie tossed
her spool of thread onto the table. “Most likely it’s you, or Frank, putting
these fake obits in the paper. Anything to sell a few more copies and keep the
paper from going under.”

Stacy looked confused. “I have no idea
what you’re talking about.” She glanced at me. “Marsha?”

I shrugged, not wanting to give her
anything newsworthy, but the more people who knew about the suspicious deaths,
the better. “Seems someone is putting people’s names in the obits thirty days
before the person actually dies. Dottie’s name came up last week.”

“Why is this the first time I’ve heard of
this?” Stacy speared each woman with her gaze.

“Maybe you don’t read your own paper,”
Mom said. “Danny, quit eavesdropping at the door. If you want something, come
on in.”

Red-faced, Danny sidled through the door,
empty pitcher in his hand. “Mr.
Bohan
told me to
bring this in before it got broke.”

I took it from him, feeling pity for the
poor shy young man suddenly thrust into the center of attention by a group of
fuming females. “Thank you. Now
git
, before they turn
on you.”

He disappeared so fast, I thought maybe
Houdini played a magic trick. “Times up, ladies. See you next week.”

For the next five minutes, there was a
flurry of activity as they cleaned up their work and stashed it on a shelf Mom had
provided. Stacy stayed and watched for a few minutes before storming out.

It was quite a productive morning. I had
gossip on Stacy’s fake chest, on Dottie being the belle of the ball, and also
on Dottie believing she’d win the pageant at the retirement home again. Yep,
this gossip stuff was easy.

Once the women had gone, Mom wiped down
the table. “Well, that was interesting. Next week, you can stay in here and
I’ll mind the store.”

“Not on your life.” No way did I want to
spend two hours with that bunch. Most of them were okay, but Dottie’s sharp
tongue more than made up for the others.

“So, do you think the obit thing is a
ploy to garner sales?”

“What?” I frowned. “No. Do you? Do you
really think someone is posting their names and killing them just for
publicity? Or… wait.” I stared through the window for a moment. “What if…Frank
or Stacy are posting the names, but someone else is taking advantage of it.
”

“That’s a thought.” Mom tossed the rag
she’d used into a basket. “Possible, I suppose, but how would we find out who?”
She thrust a finger in the air. “I know! We’ll put my name in.”

“Are you nuts?” Seriously, she might need
committed to the crazy house. “Do you know how dangerous that would be?”

She lowered her voice. “Not if you stay
with me every single minute of the thirtieth day.”

“So we could both die? No, thanks.” I
pulled out a chair and sat. “There has to be another way. Besides, Leroy and
Duane would never go for it.” What if the end came when Lindsey was with us? I
couldn’t stand to think that way.

“I’m with your daughter on this one.”
Leroy barged through the back door. “If you’re going to talk crazy, at least close
the door and window.”

“But, honey.—” Mom batted her
eyelashes.

Really? Women still did that?

“Don’t honey me,
Gertie
.
I’m putting my foot down.” Leroy’s face reddened. “I told you I’d let you play
around with another mystery, since you don’t fit the profile of those poor
unfortunate women, but I will not allow you to purposely put yourself in harm’s
way.”

Thank you,
Lord, that I didn’t have to be the one to stand up to my mother this time
. She was definitely a
force to be reckoned with when riled.

Mom took a deep breath, opened her mouth,
closed it again,
then
finally spoke. “Well, if we
don’t figure out something, Dottie won’t ever have a chance to win her second
pageant.”

Chapter Nine

The next morning, I sat in the newspaper office,
staring at Stacy, who filed her nails. Where was Frank? I glanced at my watch.
Ten minutes late.

“He’s always late,” Stacy said without
looking up. “But don’t you dare come in late. That’ll be the time he shows on
time. The man is a bear when mad.”

Considering one of my pet peeves was
being even two minutes late, I didn’t see any danger of me angering Frank that
way. I slid the manila folder with the single sheet of gossip around on the
table, and envisioned Stacy’s reaction when she read the post.
If she read it, of course.
Somehow I figured she would think
that column beneath her. The folder also contained a wonderfully cute
advertisement for the store. Lindsey had outdone herself with a picture of a
time-out baby standing in a corner and the words “Don’t be sent to time-out.
Catch the bargains while you can.”

“Sorry I’m late.” Frank banged through
the door and took a seat at the end of the table. “Stacy, what do you have?”

She slid a file to him. “A short write up
on that stupid quilter’s group, and one on the football team. I’d like to do
another one, featuring the coach, after their first game tonight.” She shot a
simpering smile at me.

The first game was tonight? How could I
have forgotten? I never missed any of the home games, especially since Duane
and I got together.

“Marsha?” Frank narrowed his eyes. “You
must pay attention. We don’t want these meetings to go on forever. I have a
newspaper to run.”

“Sorry.” I handed him my file.

He opened it, read, then glanced at
Stacy’s chest, then at me. I could’ve sworn I saw the flicker of a smile cross
his lips. “Good job. Keep up the good work. See y’all next week.” He grabbed
the two files and left, all in less than five minutes.

“Then why do we have to mark two hours on
our calendar?” I asked.

Stacy shrugged. “Sometimes he’s an hour
late. Sometimes, he doesn’t like what we’ve written and waits while we fix it.
Who knows? We’re talking about Frank. Count your blessings it was quick.” With
those words, she left me alone in the conference room.

I wasn’t due at the shop for almost two
hours. What in the world would I do with that time? I had no suspects to
interrogate and very little clues. Maybe I could badger Bruce into letting
something slip.

Grabbing my purse, I headed out of the
newspaper office and next door to the police department. In a town the size of
River Valley, businesses tended to congregate, thus giving business to each
other. In this instance, having the paper next to the police probably made
gathering news easier.

The station receptionist lifted her head
from her desk, frowned, then waved me through. Oh, how Bruce must love that
folks did that for me. That’s what happens when people like you. Of course, the
receptionist knew from experience I wouldn’t leave her alone until she waved me
back.

“Good morning, Bruce.” His door was open,
so I sailed in and planted myself in the chair in front of his desk.

“What do you want?” He crossed his arms
and leaned back.

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?”
I set my purse on the ground at my feet, catching sight of my very well-worn
flip-flops. Maybe I should’ve taken the extra time I had to go shopping.

“I’m a busy man, Marsha.” He fiddled with
a stack of papers on his desk.

“Did Duane talk to you about the
obituaries?” Might as well get right to the point before he threw me out.

“Are you still on that kick? It’s pure
coincidence, and nothing more. I have burglaries and vandalism to worry about.
I can’t go charging around on speculation. And I don’t appreciate you sending
your bulldog to do your dirty work.”

Duane was a bulldog? I sure loved that
man. He’d made a promise to me then left an impression. “Well, if Dottie turns
up dead, then you’ll be sorry, won’t you, Officer Fife.” I grabbed my purse and
lunged to my feet. “Sometimes, you need to listen to the wisdom of other people.”

“When I see a wise person, I will.”

Ugh. I slammed his door shut behind me.
With over an hour before I had to report to work, I decided to visit a little
boutique down the street, with the hopes of finding a few things to liven up my
wardrobe. Wouldn’t Duane be pleased to see me dress as a woman instead of a
teenage boy? Yet, the darling man loved me anyway.

A chime sang out as I opened the boutique
door. Immediately a myriad of colors and textures assaulted my senses, sending
me into overload. A girl with dyed black hair, a piercing in her eyebrow, and
another in her lip, kind of smiled, if you can call a grimace a smile, and
welcomed me. “Welcome to Heaven’s Fashion. I’m Amber. May I help you?”

Somewhat at ease because Heaven was in
the store name, I smiled back. “I’m lost. I’d like to dress my age, yet
attractive.” How could a Goth princess possibly help me?

“Our women’s department is over here. We
have several sundresses you may like, along with walking shorts, capris, and
some blouses on our clearance rack. Warmer clothing is over here.” Amber led
the way to the back of the store.

These clothes were more to my taste. I
riffled through them, almost excited to be shopping, and thankful I’d chosen to
go alone. My mother would have me dressing like her. Elastic waistband pants,
flowing skirts, and gauzy blouses. “I’ve never heard of this boutique,” I said.
“I’ve only seen the sign in the window. Maybe y’all should put an advertisement
in the paper.”

She shrugged. “My mom might be
interested. She isn’t here now.”

“Here’s my card.” I pulled the craft
store’s business card from the bib of my overalls. “Have your mother call me if
she’s interested.”

“Would you like to try something on?” Her
phone rang out a heavy metal tune. “Just a sec.” She answered it. “Hey, Danny.
I can’t talk right now. Got a customer. Call me later.”

I hung several outfits over my arm. “I’d
like to try these on. Was that Danny Vera?”

“Yes, why?”

“He’s helping my stepfather build a room
onto our store. A real quiet boy, isn’t he?” I stepped back while she unlocked
one of the fitting rooms.

“Until you get to know him. But I like my
men quiet and broody. Makes them mysterious.” She pushed the door open. “Let me
know if I can help you with something else.”

I wanted to ask Amber more questions
about the young man I’d almost run over, but if I’d thought Danny sullen, she
took first place. Instead, I marveled at how much better I looked out of my
overalls. Why hadn’t I noticed how much weight I’d lost? Probably because the
overalls were shapeless, and I’d been so busy, I had little time to head to my
main source of stress relief.
My M&Ms.

Thirty minutes later, and several hundred
dollars poorer, I left the store with the beginnings of a new wardrobe. I
couldn’t wait for Duane to see me in one of the dresses.

I went to work and stashed my bags under
the counter, trying to ignore the sound of hammering. Would Leroy and Danny
ever finish?

“What’s all that?” Mom carried in two
glasses of tea.

“I went shopping.”

“What are you shipping?” She handed me a
glass.

“What?” I guzzled the sweet tea like a
woman dying of thirst. I never realized how parched you get when shopping.

“What?”

I stared at her like she’d gone mad,
which at moments, wasn’t such a long stretch. “Clothes! I went shopping for new
clothes.”

She remained impassive for a minute,
then
pulled a wad of cotton out of her ears. “That hammering
is going to drive me nuts. You went shopping? Thank the good Lord!” She pulled
out one of my new dresses. “This is lovely. So glad you finally took my advice.”

 
“Danny’s girlfriend works there. Strange
girl, but nice.” I tied my apron around my waist and glanced around the store
to see what crafts needed to be made. Still crowded. Moving to the order book,
I flipped to the first page. Somebody wants a leprechaun? How was I supposed to
make that? I pointed at the order. “Did you take this?”

“Who else would take it?”

“Any ideas?” Mom might own the store, but
most of the crafts were a result of my two hands.

“A time-out doll that looks like a
leprechaun. Sew a green outfit, go to the party store for a hat, and glue on
some orange hair and beard. There, you have it.”

Sure, easy for her to say. I searched our
book of patterns for a toddler boy’s short suit. St. Patrick’s day wasn’t for
almost a year. Why would these folks want one now? Sometimes, I thought Mom had
a personal agenda: to kill me. Good thing I had a couple of time-out babies in
the closet from a canceled order. All I’d have to do would be to change the
clothes.

“Those people are having some kind of Irish
party. You know me, I don’t ask a lot of questions.” Mom looked out the
backdoor. “Who’s that woman?”

And some people suffered from delusions. I
joined her. “That’s Darla from the newspaper.” What was she doing here? I
opened the door and stepped outside. “Darla? Is something wrong with my
column?”

“No. I’m here to check on my son. You
slave drivers have him working all day.”

“Danny’s your son?”

“Didn’t I just say that?” She stomped
over to where he sat on a folding stool, nursing a glass of tea. That boy could
keep Lipton in business all by himself.

“Don’t embarrass me, Mom.” Danny stood.
“I told you I get off at five, same as any other worker. Same as you.”

“But you’re only twenty-four. That’s too
young for such long hours.” She patted his cheek. “You should be out having
fun. And not with that girl you’re seeing. Someone…else.”

Interesting. Momma didn’t seem to like
Amber. Once you got past the piercings and dark clothes, she didn’t seem too
bad. Besides, if I’d learned anything from being a mother, it was that the
child would gravitate to the very thing I wanted her away from.

“Leave it be!” Danny threw the red
plastic cup that had once held his drink. It landed at his mother’s feet,
splashing the buff-colored pumps she wore. “Don’t you tell me to do enough
things?”

“Nothing that doesn’t need doing, Danny.”
Darla straightened her shoulders and marched away, leaving the rest of us
silent, and with our mouths hanging open.

“Go on, boy.” Leroy wiped his hands on a
rag that looked as if it had been run over by a truck. “Your mama needs you.
This room will be here tomorrow. Now that the boards are all cut, we can set up
the walls in the morning.”

Thank goodness. If the weather held, they
should be finished in a week.
Hopefully by the next quilting
get-together.
Too many more days of hammering, and I might just nail my
head to the floor.

Danny followed his mother, and Mom and I
went inside. “Seems kind of early for her to pick him up, doesn’t it?”
Especially considering it was only a little past one.

“He’s twenty-four, for crying out loud.
Not a child. You had a baby by his age.” Mom grabbed the broom and started
sweeping. “Women who coddle their offspring make me furious.”

“It’s really none of our business.” I
searched the shelves for a bolt of emerald green fabric. Nada. “Do you have any
green fabric at your house? I really don’t want to go to the store.”

“I might.” She leaned on the broom
handle, crushing the bristles. “I told Leroy that come this summer, we could
buy an RV. You sure you’re okay with that? If you’d set a wedding date, then
I’d have a better idea of when we could actually leave.”

“What difference does that make?”

“Because, once you’re Duane’s problem, I
don’t need to follow you around on your crime-solving adventures.”