Nosy Neighbor: All 7 complete Nosy Neighbor cozy mysteries PLUS: 2 short Christmas stories (A Nosy Neighbor mystery)

by Cynthia Hickey

  I spent the rest of the day in my office writing while Mom spent the day with her friends from church. I’d left her a note earlier saying Happy Birthday, but had yet to lay eyes on her that day. Her or any other member of my family. Ebony and Ivory, my cats, slept on the windowsill and Sadie curled up next to my feet. At least they provided a bit of company. I’d grown used to some kind of noise around me since my family moved in, and found writing in complete silence more difficult than before.

  I sighed and tried to focus. My email stalker—real and the fictional one from my story—weren’t talking to me either.

  The sound of the front door closing had me out of my seat and running down the hall. “Happy Birthday.”

  “Thanks.” Angela set her purse on the foyer table and opened a shopping bag from an elite bakery store. “But it isn’t my birthday.”

  “I thought you were Mom.”

  “I’m home early to decorate for her party.”

  “We’re having a party?”

  She shrugged. “Just the family, but everyone appreciates a little extra effort now and again. What did you get Mom? I bought her a set of expensive cake decorating tools.”

  I gulped. Angela would get in a snit when she found out I’d bought Mom a store. “I, uh, bought her a vacant storefront.”

  “What?!” She slammed her purchase on the table. “Why do you have to show the rest of us up? Just because you have all this money, doesn’t mean you have to flaunt it. Look at your house.”

  “You mean the one you’re living in rent free?” I cocked my head. “It seems as if everyone is benefiting from my money.”

  “I can’t talk to you.” She stormed into the kitchen.

  “What’s really wrong with you?” I reached into the refrigerator and pulled out the steaks I had marinating for that night’s dinner. “You’re grouchier than usual.”

  Angela sniffed, cracking eggs into a bowl. “Wayne broke up with me. He said it was too … conflicting to work with his girlfriend.”

  “Oh, honey.” I dropped the steaks on the stove and wrapped my arms around her. “He’s an idiot.”

  “I know. I’m such a catch. I’m thirty-two years old with two teenage kids, both of whom were born before I was out of high school and shortly after.” She shook her head then wiped her arm across her eyes. “I’m every man’s dream.”

  “You are.” I gave her a little shake. “You’re children are almost grown. If you find the right man, you’re still young enough to have more children if you want. A good man won’t hold your past against you.”

  “Of course you would say that. You’re Miss Perfect.” She reached for a box of cake mix. “I don’t even know how to bake well enough to make Mom’s cake from scratch.”

  “Neither do I.” I needed to get the steaks ready, but felt bad about leaving my sister alone while in distress about her boyfriend dumping her. I did the only thing I could think of to do that might take her mind off her own problems. “I have an internet stalker.”

  “See?” She whirled, waving a wooden spoon that dripped chocolate cake batter. “Your life is so much more interesting than mine.”

  “Uh, don’t you remember how we almost died six months ago? Do you seriously consider a stalker something you envy?”

  She quirked her mouth. “Not really. It’s just that, there’s always something going on with you. I bet Mom is thrilled to have another mystery to solve. Something the two of you can do together.”

  Excluding her, she meant. “I have no intentions of solving this on my own. But, if I do, you’re more than welcome to join me.”

  “Really?” Her eyes lit up. “What have you got?”

  I sighed. “Some weirdo is mad because I don’t have the second mystery book written yet. They’ve said they will help me along in creative ways. They dropped a bone in the backyard for Sadie, and sent me flowers. I called the police, and they traced the internet connection to the coffee shop.”

  “That’s it? It isn’t much.”

  “That’s it.” Unfortunately, I feared there would be more clues in the name of research coming. I glanced at the clock. “We’re late. Mom is going to be home any minute and the cake isn’t even in the oven.”

  “Crikey.” She slid the pan into the oven and set the temperature and timer. “What do you think? One extra minute since it isn’t pre-heated?”

  “Sure.” I stepped onto the patio, missing Matt more than ever. Usually, when I wanted something grilled, I invited him to dinner and he did the honors. Then, after we ate, we’d sit on the back porch and do some necking which was better than any dessert ever created. Plus, I was pretty sure since we heated up the place, we most likely burned calories at the same time.

  I grinned and pressed the ignite button. Whoosh! Flames shot up, singing my eyebrows and setting my bangs on fire. I screamed and slapped at the embers that ruined what was once a stylish hair style.

  “Is that a new dance move?” Angela called out the window.

  “No! I set my hair on fire.”

  The door opened and a glass of ice water landed on my head, glass and all. “Ow!”

  “You said you were on fire.” Angela planted her fists on her hips.

  “You aren’t supposed to throw the glass, too!” I tenderly touched my smarting forehead. “How bad is it?”

  “Um.” She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. “Not too bad.”

  “You’re lying.” I pushed past her and into the downstairs powder room. “Oh, no.” Nothing but stubble sat on my head two inches back from my normal hairline. “I have a book signing this weekend.”

  Angela laughed and leaned against the doorframe. “Guess you’ll have to learn stylish ways of wearing a head scarf.”

  “Shut up.” Tears pricked my eyes. I sniffed. Was that burnt plastic smell coming from my head? Maybe, but I smelled something else, too. “Do you smell that?”

  “Yeah, it’s your head.”

  “No, something else.”

  “My cake!” She turned and dashed back to the kitchen.

  By the time I got there, she’d pulled out the cake pan. In the center of the pan was the wooden spoon, blackened on the handle from where it had rested against the oven’s heat source. “So much for the cake.”

  “Go buy one from the store.” Angela tossed it in the garbage.

  “Not looking like this, I won’t.”

  “Looking like what?”

  I turned and stared into the smiling face of Matt.

  4

  “You’re home.” I launched myself into his arms.

  He held me close and, ignoring my sister who stared as if she’d never seen a kiss before, claimed my lips with his own, teasing and tugging, his tongue lightly flicking against mine, until I thought my legs would give out. Then, when I thought I needed to pull away in order to breathe, he pulled me closer, deepening the kiss.

  Hearts pounding, chests heaving, he held me at arm’s length. “Now, that’s a welcome home.” He frowned. “What happened to your hair?” He tapped the shaggy edges of what used to be my bangs.

  “The grill kind of exploded.” I touched the tender spot on my higher than usual forehead. I probably should have examined the burn and put aloe vera on it right away.

  “It looks like it hurts.”

  “It does.” I pulled my hair from one side to the other in an attempt to hide the damage. I was sure it didn’t look near as sexy swept to the side as I wanted it to.

  “Did you have the gas on for too long before igniting?” He glanced out the window.

  “It’s possible.” I’d been arguing with my sister, after all.

  “Why are you wet?”

  “I tried to put out the fire,” Angela said. “It worked, too. Keep your hair swept over like that,” she directed to me. “Maybe Mom won’t notice.”

  Her attack with the water hadn’t really helped. I’d pounded the sizzling strands with my bare hands, watching charred pieces of my hair fall to the ground before the water glass e
ver hit me in the head. But, I was too happy at Matt’s sudden return to argue. “Why didn’t you call?”

  “I wanted to surprise you.” He put an arm around my shoulders and directed me back to the grill where he had steaks broiling within minutes. “We’ll discuss the internet happenings after supper, okay?”

  Of course he hadn’t forgotten, even in the throes of steamy kisses. I sat in a lawn chair and studied him to my heart’s content. Tall, muscular, with hair the color of burnished wheat I’d seen in the fields of Oklahoma once, and eyes the color of coffee, he was the epitome of a handsome hunk. Fortunately, the inside was as attractive as the outside. Matt was a true man through and through, and I was thrilled to have him back in one piece. I sent a prayer of thanks heavenward

  “Stormi is staring at your butt,” Angela said, handing each of us a can of soda. “She’s checking you out big time.”

  “That’s okay.” Matt grinned and winked. “I stare at hers all the time.”

  Angela made a face and stormed back into the kitchen, muttering something about having to go buy a cake.

  “Wayne broke up with her today,” I explained, popping the tab on the top of my can. “She’s a bit disgruntled. He said it was too difficult to date someone he was working with.”

  Matt flipped the fillets with a long pronged fork. “I’m sorry to hear that. I really thought he liked her. Maybe I can fish around for information when I go to work in the morning.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Tonight, it’s all about you and me.”

  “Actually, it’s my mother’s birthday. That’s why we’re having the steaks.”

  “You told me yesterday. I forgot.” His eyes widened. “I’ve butted in. I should go.”

  “Not a chance. Mom adores you. Please stay.”

  He set the fork down and leaned over me, his hands balanced on each of the chair’s arms. His eyes stared into mine. “Is she the only one who adores me?”

  “I’m sure we could find one or two other people.” I grinned. “If we looked really hard.”

  “That’s all?” He brought his mouth closer to mine. “Maybe with some convincing—”

  “Matthew!” Mom stepped onto the back porch. “You’re back.”

  He shrugged and straightened, gathering Mom close and landing a kiss on her cheek. “Safe and sound. Happy Birthday.”

  “Stormi has been like a grizzly bear since you’ve been gone.”

  “I do tend to sooth the savage in her,” Matt said.

  He provoked the beast, more than soothed. His kisses spiked my blood pressure, got my heart to racing, and left me weak. He was more like a disease that I didn’t want to get over. “You two are hilarious.” I took a big gulp of my soda.

  Matt and Mom chattered while he grilled the steaks, and I focused on the emails I’d been receiving. Not to mention the gifts my stalker had sent. Matt was going to blow hotter than the grill when I told him the details. From the way he kept glancing at me over Mom’s shoulder, told me he suspected I would try to find a way to sugarcoat the details. I sighed and took another drink, idly twirling Sadie’s hair around my finger.

  By the time the steaks were done, I’d worked myself into a tangled knot of nerves. I held open the kitchen door while Matt carried the steaks inside. On the counter sat some kind of whipped cream and strawberry concoction which supposedly was Mom’s birthday cake. She eyed it with suspicion, glanced at Angela, then shrugged and took her seat at the head of the table.

  Angela had salad and baked potatoes with all the fixings ready for the family to dig in. Cherokee and Dakota practically salivated as Matt dropped steaks on their plates. I sat to the right of the opposite end of the table where Matt always sat when he came over for dinner, which was quite often when he wasn’t away working.

  “Sorry, I’m late.” Mary Ann, Matt’s sister and my best friend sailed into the room.

  “You’re right on time,” Mom said.

  Mary Ann plopped into the chair on Matt’s left. “Perfect. Oh, this all looks so good. I’m glad to see you back safe, big brother. Sorry I wasn’t home when you got there.”

  “I came straight here.” He winked at me.

  Pleasure that my house was his first stop flooded through me and plastered a goofy grin to my face.

  “Matt, lead us in the blessing, please,” Mom said.

  We held hands around the table while Matt blessed the food and asked for a special blessing on Mom for her birthday. A chorus of “amens” rang out before the plates started passing.

  “Can you tell us anything about the case you were working on?” Mom asked, glancing at Matt. “You know how this family enjoys a mystery.”

  “Nope. Not unless I want to jeopardize my undercover alias.” He speared a hunk of meat with his fork. “After the trial, I might be able to spill a few of the details, but my safety and the safety of everyone I care about could be in danger if I say too much.”

  “Speaking of too much … ” Mom wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Stormi has a secret admirer.”

  “Of course she does.” Angela tossed her napkin on the table. “Everything is always bright in Stormi’s world.”

  “Mom,” I warned. “You know it isn’t an admirer, and I don’t want to discuss it at the table.”

  “Is someone trying to kill you again?” Dakota set his glass down and leaned forward, fixing his gaze on me. “Because that was easily the most exciting time of my life.”

  “Right, like fifteen is living a long life.” Cherokee dropped a dollop of sour cream on her potato. “It was my knowing the area that kept us from being killed.”

  Wow, I had no idea that the troubles I got myself into were a competition between my niece and nephew. I met Matt’s serious gaze, and focused back on my plate. The more my family carried on, the less I would be able to downplay the seriousness of the emails I’d received. It wasn’t that I thought them inconsequential, I didn’t. I realized the severity of having a psycho stalker. I just didn’t want Matt to flip out and keep me a prisoner in my own home. Maybe I could rent a mountain cabin somewhere and hide out until I finished writing my book.

  We finished eating, cleaned up from supper, and then set the cake, complete with fifty-two candles, in front of Mom’s seat. She laughed, warning us we’d set off the smoke alarms if she didn’t blow out the candles soon. We sang Happy Birthday, then she blew, extinguishing all fifty-two in one breath. She clapped. “Presents.”

  Angela retrieved a bright pink bag from the counter, glaring at me while I fetched the manila envelope with Mom’s store information. Cherokee and Dakota gave Mom a box with a necklace with two jeweled children figures; one with each of their birthstones.

  “I love it.” She slipped the necklace over her head.

  “Here’s mine.” Angela forced a smile to her face, despite the tenseness to her tone.

  “Oh, sweetie.” Mom pulled out a kit for decorating cakes. “This will get a lot of use. Thank you.”

  “Happy Birthday, Mom.” I handed her my gift.

  She lifted the flap and pulled out the sheets of paper. “What’s this?”

  “I bought you a store front on Main Street. Now, you can expand your business.” My face hurt from grinning. “You’re a business owner now.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “I never thought I’d own my own business.” She glanced at each of us in turn. “Summer jobs for you kiddos and the perfect opportunity to use my new tools … I must be the most blessed woman in Oak Meadows.”

  Angela’s frown turned to a smile when she realized Mom considered her gift as important as mine. In true mother form, Mom didn’t favor one child’s gift over another.

  “All you need now is a name, obtain a license, and fill the place with good smells and awesome baked delicacies,” Mary Ann said. “You should do well. There isn’t another bakery in a twenty-mile radius.”

  “I don’t even know where to begin.” Mom stared at the papers in her hand.

  “How about you begin by looking the place over in the m
orning?” I patted her on the shoulder. “It’s Saturday. We’ll make it a family affair.” I dug the store keys out of my pocket and handed them to her.

  “That’s a wonderful idea.” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, then focused on me. “What happened to your hair? Is that a burn? Were you attacked?” She lunged to her feet.

  “No, Mom, just an accident with the grill.”

  “I’ve told you that cantankerous thing needs a man’s touch to work properly.”

  I shrugged, thinking of how every woman under my roof could use a man’s touch, then nodded to Matt that I was ready to talk and led the way to the front porch where we took our seats on the swing. I wanted to clutch a throw pillow to my chest, but the gesture would only serve to make me look defensive.

  He put his arm around my shoulders, but before he could pull me close, I stiffened and dug copies of the emails out of the pocket of my jeans. “I didn’t think anything about these at first, as I told you on the phone, but they’re getting increasingly hostile. Not to mention the dog bone I found in the yard and the flowers that were delivered. Koontz has suggested I not go anywhere alone.”

  “That’s a great idea.” A muscle ticked in Matt’s jaw.

  “No, it isn’t.” I faced him. “If I make my family go with me everywhere, I’m putting them in the same danger they were in six months ago. I can’t do that to them again.”

  “I understand.” He shoved the paper in his pocket. “I’m not crazy about this happening to you again, either.” He sighed. “Once upon a time, I thought that getting into a relationship with a woman would endanger her because of my profession, not hers. Now, I realize how egotistical that was. You don’t need me to get into danger. It follows you like a noxious cloud.”

  “It’s not something I did on purpose. I should have stuck to writing plain romance. It was a lot safer.” I snuggled against him. “But, if I back out of the mysteries now, my agent will kill me, not to mention my stalker. Sorry, bad choice of words. Plus, I made a boatload of money on that first mystery and really want to make a series.”

  “But do you have to write about true events? You’re a fiction writer. Make stuff up.”