Glue, Baby, Gone
Page 24
Although Nancy had shopped at my store. I didn’t know as well as I knew most of my customers. I’d been nice to her, of course, because I always try to be nice.
It had been Vanessa Johnson, a longtime customer, who brought us the sad news that Nancy had died. After Vanessa left, Clancy Whitehead, my good friend and co-worker, joined me in the back room, taking a seat across from me at the break table where I was working on paperwork. I had papers spread all over. As I paused in the act of scribbling a note to myself, Clancy told me the sad news, adding, “How bizarre is that? I always felt Nancy blended in with the wallpaper. She was hardly a woman you’d remember, much less somebody you’d want to kill.”
I dropped my mechanical pencil because I was so shocked.
“Shot?” I echoed.
“Shot in the head.” Clancy reached down and retrieved my pencil from the floor. She’s worried about me returning to work so quickly after giving birth, so she’s taken to babying me. I kind of like it.
“Thanks. Why? How? Was it random? Had she been targeted?”
“I don’t know. Vanessa said there are a lot of unanswered questions.” Clancy frowned. “In the midst of such good news and excitement, too. Vanessa said Nancy’s death barely warranted a mention on the radio. Everyone has gone gaga over the upcoming visit by Prince William and his wife, Kate.”
I agreed. You couldn’t turn on a local radio station or pick up a paper without reading a new detail about their arrival. Somehow, that made Nancy’s death even sadder. Here she’d this nice, upstanding woman who’d been shot, and she wasn’t important enough for the media to give her the typical fifteen minutes of fame that Andy Warhol had predicted we’d all get.
I picked up my mug of mint tea and took a sip. “I can’t imagine Nancy rubbing anybody the wrong way. Her shooting must have been a wrong-place, wrong-time sort of thing.”
A tiny whimper from the portable crib four feet away caused me to set down the drink and check on Ty, my infant son. He must have been dreaming, because his chubby legs twitched and his lips puckered rhythmically.
Clancy’s eyes followed me to see that my child was all right. She even got to her feet to stare down into the crib. Once standing, she plucked a bit of lint off her gabardine slacks. As always, she dressed in the epitome of classic fashion. Today she wore chocolate brown pants, an ivory cashmere boat-neck sweater with a gorgeous orange, red, and goldenrod silk scarf around her neck. By contrast, I wore a pair of black maternity pants that were still a bit snug. A red, black, and white smock-top covered the two buttons that strained at my waistband. On January 15, I’d given birth to Tyler George Lowenstein Detweiler, my third child. Bringing my two-and-a-half-week-old son to work with me was one of the perks of owning a business. On the other hand, not getting time off was also a perk of owning a business. In retail, the hours can be brutal. Of course, I don’t own Time in a Bottle all by myself. Margit Eichen has a minority interest.
“Ty must be dreaming.” Clancy said, as we both stared at my little boy. “Don’t you wonder what thoughts drift through his little head? I would like to know if babies retain anything they hear in utero, or if every baby starts as a blank slate.”
That was pretty heavy thinking. I found it easier to go back to Nancy Owens’ sad demise. “Do they have any suspects?”
“Not that I know of.” Clancy poured herself a fresh cup of coffee, and sat back down, adjusting her chair so that she, too, could look Ty as he slept in his portable crib. Our backroom was a wee bit crowded with Ty’s crib and a doggy playpen where Gracie, my Great Dane rescue dog, was snoozing.
“Vanessa said that the authorities have an eyewitness who saw the whole thing. A car with tinted windows pulled up next to Nancy’s pearl-white Mercedes Benz SUV, took aim, and show a bullet through her brain.”
“Ugh.” I shook my head. “What a violent way to go.”
“The killer or killers were driving an old rusty orange Mustang convertible. They immediately fled the scene, leaving behind both Nancy’s purse and her diamond.”
“I remember that ring. It was beautiful.”
“One carat,” Clancy said. “It couldn’t have been a robbery. Here’s the strangest part: They didn’t even bother to take her car, and it was fairly new.”
“But they could have? Taken the car?” I was asking rather than making a statement.
“Sure. Nancy had it in park while she idled at a stoplight.”
“What was she doing in Ferguson?”
Clancy shook her head. “Beats me. Ever since the riots there, I avoid that place. That’s not fair of me, and I know it, but I don’t want to get caught up in a protest that gets out of hand. Things still aren’t good up there, for blacks or for whites.”
I understood exactly what she meant. My second child, Erik, is biracial. When I see the protests in Ferguson, I worry about his future. Will young black men still be at risk by the time Erik grows up? Probably. Things change so slowly when it comes to matters of prejudice.
I shuddered, which convinced Clancy I was still ruminating about Nancy Owens. My friend ran a pink fingertip around the rim of her coffee mug. “It might sound like I’m being unkind, but I have to believe that wires got crossed. Nancy’s death had to be a mistake. She could not have been the real target of an assassin’s bullet. Not Nancy. She was too white-bread-vanilla to be objectionable.”
“I agree. She didn’t shop here often, but the times she did, she was quiet as a mouse. In fact, I know nothing about her except…” and I let my voice taper off.
“Except?” Clancy raised a beautifully arched eyebrow.
“Except she and I bumped into each other at a lecture at the library in Webster Groves. She sidled up beside me. We walked to our cars and stood outside talking, the way you do.”
“As one does,” Clancy prompted me.
But I didn’t get to expand on my comment.
The door minder dinged to let us know we had a customer.
“I’ll take care of that. You need to block out all distractions and get that paperwork done.” Clancy got to her feet and went out onto the sales floor. I picked up more papers, in preparation for our taking inventory, but I couldn’t concentrate on my paperwork. Who shoots a mom? To put it bluntly, Nancy Owens had been a nobody. A non-entity. I went into my office, opened a browser on the computer, and searched for more information about Nancy’s death. Several stories popped up. The authorities tagged her murder as a senseless crime, another example of our lawless society.
Of course, just because the cops couldn’t find a motive—or because they couldn’t see the logic behind this brutal killing—didn’t mean one didn’t exist. Anthropologists tell us that human beings are physiologically incapable of sustaining friendships with more than 100 people at a time. Theoretically, it was possible that someone, somewhere in Nancy’s personal tribe of one hundred must have wanted her dead.
I hit the exit icon and turned back to the paperwork on the break table. Ty would be up in less than an hour, and Mommy’s Milkshake Bar would be open for business. I couldn’t afford to dawdle over the news of Nancy Owens’ death. I had my own problems to worry about, including a visit from two FBI agents that had turned my life upside down.
~To Be Continued~
FATAL, FAMILY, ALBUM: BOOK #13 IN THE KIKI LOWENSTEIN MYSTERY SERIES will be released on November 13, 2017. You’ll find the book (paper and digital formats) on Amazon.
The Kiki Lowenstein Mystery Series
Every scrapbook tells a story. Memories of friends, family and … murder? You’ll want to read the Kiki Lowenstein books in order:
The Kiki Lowenstein Mystery Series
Every scrapbook tells a story. Memories of friends, family and … murder? You’ll want to read the Kiki Lowenstein books in order:
Love, Die, Neighbor (The Prequel) - http://bit.ly/LoveDieN
Paper, Scissors, Death -- http://bit.ly/PSDKL1
Cut, Crop & Die -- http://bit.ly/CutCropD
Ink, Red, Dead --
http://bit.ly/IRDead3
Photo, Snap, Shot -- http://bit.ly/PSSKL4
Make, Take, Murder -- http://bit.ly/MTMKikiL5
Ready, Scrap, Shoot -- http://bit.ly/RSSBook6
Picture, Perfect, Corpse -- http://bit.ly/PPCorpse7
Group, Photo, Grave -- http://bit.ly/GPGrave8
Killer, Paper, Cut -- http://bit.ly/KillPC9
Handmade, Holiday, Homicide -- http://bit.ly/KikiHHH10
Shotgun, Wedding, Bells -- http://bit.ly/SWBKiki11
Glue, Baby, Gone
Fatal, Family, Album (Release date Nov. 13, 2017)
The Cara Mia Delgatto Mystery Series
A new series that’s a spin-off of the Kiki Lowenstein books. If you believe in second chances, you’re going to love Cara Mia and her friends. Here are those books in order:
1.Tear Down & Die
2.Kicked to the Curb
3.All Washed Up
Author’s Note for Glue, Baby, Gone
In each of my books, I explore a social issue, hoping to educate myself and my readers. For Glue, Baby, Gone, I explored infant abduction, that is, the phenomena of women who kidnap other women’s babies. With advances in RFID (radio frequency identification) technology, it’s very difficult to kidnap a baby. In the rare cases when it happens, the abductor confounded the RFID system, either by masquerading as a hospital staff member or otherwise overriding the system. According to my research, there are also devices are sold online that supposedly allow you to bypass an RFID system.
More surprisingly to me, when the abductor is not a family member, she usually fits a very specific profile. Almost always, it is an overweight female in a relationship that’s rocky. The woman is desperate to have a child. She might actually go through a fake pregnancy in the run-up to the abduction. (This is where being overweight comes in. It allows the woman to fool others into thinking she’s actually pregnant.) The abductor does a lot of planning. She may stalk the mother-to-be for months. When her “due date” is near, the woman becomes totally focused on getting a baby to help her carry out her ruse. Often the perpetrator will pose as a hospital staff member or employee in order to steal the child. It’s common for the kidnapper to escape down a staircase. Most of these infant abductions take place in the hospital, but they can happen outside the hospital. When they do, there’s an increased chance of violence because the abductor is totally committed to procuring a baby. For more information, you might want to read this: http://www.modernmedicine.com/modern-medicine/content/stats-show-methods-profile-abductors?page=full
~Our Gift to You~
Kiki and I have a special gift for you. We have a file filled with instructions and patterns so you can create the projects mentioned in this book. Just send an email to GBGBonus@JoannaSlan.com, and our computer guru will automatically send the file to you.
Furthermore, we will add you to our online newsletter mailing list at no charge. Each month we send you a list of free and discounted books and other goodies. You’ll see why people can’t wait to get it! If you have any trouble accessing the free bonus or with the newsletter, contact my assistant, Sally Lippert, at SALFL27@att.net
With gratitude from your friend,
Joanna
P.S. If you enjoyed this book, I hope you’ll consider writing a review and posting it on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, or Goodreads. In today’s crowded marketplace, more and more of us turn to reviews to make purchasing decisions. (I know I always read all the reviews before I buy. Even the bad ones, because they are enlightening.) Your opinion matters. In addition, I read reviews to get a better understanding of what you, my readers, like and enjoy. So…thanks in advance.
P.P.S. I’d like to introduce you to a few of my author friends. Go to http://bit.ly/2HH, and you’ll be able to download a copy of Happy Homicides 2: Crimes of the Heart absolutely free. It’s a collection of short mysteries by a variety of authors.
About the Author
National bestselling and award-winning author Joanna Campbell Slan has written 30 books. Her first non-fiction book, Using Stories and Humor: Grab Your Audience, was endorsed by Toastmasters International, and lauded by Benjamin Netanyahu’s speechwriter. She’s the author of three mystery series. Her first novel − Paper, Scissors, Death (Book #1 in the Kiki Lowenstein Mystery Series) − was shortlisted for the Agatha Award. Her first historical mystery − Death of a Schoolgirl: The Jane Eyre Chronicles − won the Daphne du Maurier Award of Excellence. Her contemporary series set in Florida continues this year with All Washed Up (Cara Mia Delgatto Mystery #3). In addition to writing fiction, she edits the Happy Homicides Anthologies. When she isn’t banging away at the keyboard, Joanna keeps busy walking her Havanese puppy Jax or making miniatures. Her husband, David, owns Steinway Piano Gallery-DC, so he provides the class in the family while she figures out how to turn trash into treasure. The Slans make their home in Jupiter Island, Florida.
Visit Joanna at − http://www.JoannaSlan.com
Email her at − JCSlan@JoannaSlan.com
Ask her questions and share quotations at ---http://www.Goodreads.com/JoannaCampbellSlan
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Thanks!
Many thanks to the wonderful people who’ve helped me with this book: Allyson Faith McGill, Amy Gill, Amy Goodyear, Dru Ann Love, Lynn Tondro Bisset, Marla Husovsky, Tricia Yifat Cestare, Nena Hanna, Frank Wright, and Frances Walker.
Special thanks to my dear pal and Author Assistant, Sally Lippert, and my Queen of All Proofreading, Wendy Green.