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

by Cynthia Hickey

  She scooted back her chair. “That, I have time for.” She rubbed her hands together and glanced at the clock. “Ten more minutes before the cakes come out. Let’s get to work.”

  Mary Ann took the notebook. “As your newly hired assistant, I’ll take the notes.”

  “Assistant?” Mom glanced from her to me.

  “I could use the help to be able to devote more time to writing.”

  She shrugged. “Must be nice. Okay, so who is our top suspect?”

  “Anyone with a computer and internet access,” I said.

  “Be reasonable.” Mom shook her head. “I don’t have all day.”

  “Well, there’s the new 9-1-1 operator, Cheryl Isaacson, who was more than eager to help with a book release party—.”

  “Which is now my job,” Mary Ann interrupted.

  “I’ve already promised it to her in order to garner information.” I gave her a stern look. “I can’t undo what is already done. You can be my assistant from this point forward.” Why couldn’t life move smoothly in one direction?

  Mary Ann wrote down her name. “You might as well add Ms. Dillow to the list.”

  “The librarian?” Mom asked.

  “Yeah, she was a little too nosey about the release of the next book, too.” I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Put down Tyler and his aunt. Oh, and the Salazars and the Woods couple.” I’d learned months ago to put down anyone who seemed suspicious when my life was at stake. The only problem was … I couldn’t picture any of these people as an internet stalker. Everything was as dense as Mom’s chocolate cake. I sent God a prayer for guidance. I really didn’t want to accuse an innocent person.

  Mary Ann tapped the pen on the desk top. “So, the only motive we have for someone bothering you is that they don’t want to wait the time it takes for a book to be published. What if our suspect doesn’t even live around here?”

  “I’ve thought of that,” I said. “But the fact I’ve seen someone following me who wears a trench coat kind of sent that theory out the window. Oh, and the fact someone had gone into my house and set up listening devices.” A crew had electronically swept my home the day before and found nothing more than the one bug.

  “You’re right. It’s someone local.” She tapped the pen harder until Mom reached over and snatched it from her fingers. “Sorry.”

  I glanced at the list. “I guess my top four suspects would be Cheryl, Ms. Dillow, Tyler, and his mother. They seem the most eager for the next book.” Which still didn’t make sense. “There has to be more to it than this. Traditionally published books take months to a year to be released.”

  “It’s all about the fame.” The timer on the stove sent Mom catapulting from her chair. She slipped pot holders over her hands and pulled out a dark chocolate cake and a red velvet cake. “Look how much attention Marion Henley got after killing off the folks who were mean to her simple-minded son? Why, you making your book all about her would be incentive enough for some people, I’d guess.”

  Could it really be that simple? “Then I’m changing my entire plot. It won’t be about this mystery at all.” I couldn’t have fans coming out of the woodwork wanting every book to be about them. I was an imaginative author, I could write this from scratch.

  “Well, you could always change it up a bit. I’ve heard several people say how nice it was to read about something that actually happened around here. Just change who the killer actually is to someone completely unrelated.” Mom turned off the oven. “But, it’s up to you. Considering how little time you actually spend writing, you could do pretty much whatever you want.”

  “I know. This whole thing has really set me back.” I covered my face with my hands. Three months is all it would take to actually write the book, if I sat down and disciplined myself to write it. But, if I wanted to form the story about the current events, the story had yet to play itself out. “Speaking of writing, I do need to get home.”

  “I’ll take you,” Mary Ann offered. “Then I’ve got to head to Little Rock to pick up some teaching supplies. I’ll give you a call when I return to see if you have work for me.”

  “You’ve done enough for today.” I smiled. “We’ll get together after church tomorrow if I come up with something.”

  “I’m also good with marketing and Photoshop.” She grabbed her purse off the table. “I’ll work on some kind of campaign for you.”

  I might have to raise her salary if she did all she said she could do. “Good luck with your advertisement, Mom.”

  “Right.” She sat back in front of her computer. “I’ll do that right now.”

  Mary Ann dropped me off in front of my house where a stern Matt greeted me on the porch. “Good luck,” Mary Ann said, tossing her brother a wave. She backed out of the drive, leaving me to face the music alone.

  “At least you aren’t running around town without company,” Matt said. “But you did forget to set the alarm when you left.”

  My shoulders slumped. I’d never remember. One day, I’d arrive home to meet my stalker face-to-face.

  12

  We headed into the house where, of course, the green light on the alarm blinked a welcome. I sighed and dropped my purse on the foyer table, before bending to pet Sadie. “You’ll keep the bad guys out, right?” Not likely. Maybe obedience training would help her be braver.

  “Koontz said you went to the library.” Matt followed me into the kitchen and sat at the table.

  “Was he following me?”

  “Him, me, one of the other officers. You won’t leave the house without a tale.”

  I made a face. “Are you hungry? There’is some left over spaghetti.”

  “That sounds good.” He glanced at his watch. “I have thirty minutes of lunch left. Did you find out anything?”

  “Not really.” I pulled the casserole dish from the refrigerator and divided what was left between two plates. “Just that Ms. Dillow is another avid fan who can’t wait for my next book. I’m getting nowhere fast. Oh, and your sister wants to change careers, so I’ve hired her as my literary assistant. Part time for now, permanent if she goes through with it.”

  His eyes widened. “Literary assistant or fellow snoop?”

  “Stop it.” I microwaved the leftovers. “She’s unhappy where she is. We did spend time on a suspect list today.” I fetched it from my purse and handed it to him. “You can copy this, but don’t take it.”

  He shook his head. “You just can’t leave it alone, can you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Guess I’ll have to deal with it, then, since I have no intentions of letting you go.” He flashed a dimpled, heart-stopping grin before glancing at the list. “None of this makes sense.”

  “I know. We need to set a trap for the trench coat person.”

  “No, we don’t. But maybe the police can.” He leaned back. “Did you let the librarian know your book will be out soon?”

  “Yes, and strangely enough, she didn’t believe me.” The microwave dinged. I retrieved our lunch and set it on the table. “I suppose it would be hard to fool her as to how long the process takes since she works with books all day.”

  “I guess this list is as good as any.” Matt took a picture of it with his cell phone then started eating. “I don’t think we’re dealing with a professional, just a very smart person. Leaving bugs to eavesdrop can be learned on the internet.”

  I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or frightened that my stalker might be a normal everyday Joe with a psychotic problem. “Mom thinks it’s someone who wants their moment of fame in my book. I’m not going to give them that. I’ll use all this as the basis for the story, for lack of anything else, but the suspect will be someone of my own fabrication. I can’t have this kind of stuff happening with each book in the series.”

  “We’ll find them.” He laid a hand over mine. “I’ll keep you safe.”

  I leaned over to kiss him, knowing he’d do everything in his power to protect me, but also knowing that sometimes
things were out of someone’s control. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He grinned and shoved back his chair. “I’ve got to get back to work. Stay home for a while, okay?” His cell phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket. “Steele here. What?”

  His face lost color. His gaze latched onto mine as pain rippled across his features. “I’ll be right there.”

  “What happened?” My heart lodged in my throat.

  “Mary Ann is in the hospital. A car accident.” He whirled and dashed outside.

  I grabbed my purse and sprinted after him. “Wait! I’m coming, too.” Without waiting for an answer, I slid into the passenger seat of his car and clicked my seatbelt into place.

  Within seconds, Matt had lights flashing and a siren blaring. I often forgot his car, while looking like something a normal person would drive, was actually department issued.

  We made good time to Oak Meadows General. Matt grabbed my arm and pulled me in his wake as he rushed through the Emergency room doors. Koontz greeted us at the counter. “She’s unconscious. Her car veered off the road on Elbow Curve and smashed into a tree. There’s her doctor.” He pointed to a tall, thin man with wire-rimmed glasses and a receding hairline.

  “I’m Doctor Glassen. Are you Miss Steele’s next of kin?”

  Matt nodded. “Can I see her?”

  He nodded. “Just keep the noise down. She hasn’t woken yet. We’re watching a lump on her head, and she’s suffering from multiple contusions. Her prognosis is good, despite being unconscious. I’ll check in with you in a few minutes.”

  I followed as Matt headed for her room, Koontz saying he’d head to the cafeteria and purchase three coffees. Mary Ann had to be all right. I’d driven Elbow Curve. A nasty, sharp turn with a steep dip in the road. If she’d been headed to Little Rock, why had she gone down the two-lane highway rather than the interstate?

  “Does Mary Ann know anyone in that area?”

  “No, why?” Matt glanced at me.

  “She was headed to a teaching store. Why would she be on that road?”

  He stopped outside her door. “I’m not sure, but I intend to find out.” He pushed the door open and waved me through.

  Mary Ann lay in a hospital bed, her face as pale as the sheets except for the scrapes and bruises that painted her skin. A monitor beeped beside her. She looked so frail under the mint green blanket spread across her, that I gasped. A goose egg rose, bluish-purple on her right temple. I gripped Matt’s hand.

  He squeezed back before moving to his sister’s side. Reaching over, he smoothed a curl away from her face. “Hey, little Sis, open your eyes for me, okay?”

  When she didn’t respond, he sighed and moved to a striped chair beside the bed. “I’ve worried about her from the minute our parents died ten years ago.”

  “That’s what siblings do.” I put my right hand on his shoulder. “Angela is the oldest, and I think I’ve worried about her my entire life. Do you think her accident has anything to do with me?”

  “It’s possible.” He rubbed his hands roughly down his face. “Somehow, your stalker seems to know every move you make, hear your conversations, know who you’re—” He yanked my purse off my shoulder and dumped the contents on the bed beside Mary Ann.

  “What are you looking for?”

  He turned the purse inside out, ripping at a seam on the strap. He frowned and grabbed my notepad and a pen, writing, “When did you leave your purse unsupervised?”

  I had to think. While I wasn’t obsessive about keeping it in my sights, I still rarely left it where anyone could get to it. Wait. “At the bookstore and coffee shop. I went there to scope out possible suspects after Koontz told me the emails came from there.” I sagged into the only other empty chair in the room, still writing. “I went to the restroom. Sarah Thompson said she’d watch my things, but when I returned, she was at the counter talking to someone.”

  He dropped a small silver disc into my hand. Gritting my teeth, I jumped up and stepped into the closet of a restroom. Seconds later, I’d flushed the offending object away and returned to Mary Ann’s bedside. When was it safe to talk anymore? I slumped in my chair, watching Matt watch his sister. I could imagine the fear that ripped through him. I’d been in pretty much the same boat a few months ago when Angela and the kids had been abducted with me and led into the woods to die. God had rescued us then, and He would save Mary Ann now.

  What if somehow, someone bugged my person? I wrapped my arms around my stomach. How hard would it be to slip something into my food or drink? What if I carried one of those little things in my stomach at that very moment? “I’m going to throw up.”

  “What?” Matt stiffened. “Why?”

  “What if one of those … things are inside me.”

  “You’re fine, but just in case, don’t eat or drink anything you didn’t see prepared.” He slipped his fingers under Mary Ann’s hand. “She seems to be breathing okay.”

  “Yeah, and she’s always pale, so we can’t judge her color by that.” I clapped a hand over my mouth as he sent me a startled glance. “Sorry. I’m pretty pale, too.”

  “Sometimes you say the darndest things.” He chuckled. “No wonder you’ve stolen the hearts of both Steeles.”

  Had I? I hoped so, because Detective Matthew Steele was definitely in danger of stealing my heart.

  Mary Ann groaned, jerking our attention back to her. Her eyes fluttered open. “Where am I? Why am I lying down?” She put a hand to her head. “Oh, my head is killing me?”

  “You don’t remember anything?” Matt leaned over her.

  “I went to Little Rock, and … didn’t make it to the store. Something stopped me.”

  “A tree.” I pointed out.

  “No, before that.” She frowned. Pushing against the mattress, she tried to sit.

  “Wait.” Matt handed her the button to raise her bed. “Don’t move around until the doctor says so. Tell us everything you can remember.”

  She glanced at the items of my purse. “Why is Stormi’s purse dumped all over me?”

  “Let me clean that up.” I put my things to rights. “Now, we’re ready. Hurry before the doctor comes in and runs us out. He promised us only a few minutes.”

  “Oh, okay.” She took a deep breath, still visibly trying to remember. “I’d driven to Little Rock and … grabbed a burger from a fast food place. I never made it to the store … and, oh, yeah! I saw the person in the trench coat, or at least someone in a trench coat. I followed them.”

  “To Elbow Curve.” Matt groaned.

  “Well, yeah, that’s where the person went. If I hadn’t followed him, he would have gotten away.”

  “Sweetie, he did get away. You had an accident.” I forced a reassuring smile to my lips. Maybe the knock on the head had forced away some of her reasoning.

  “I know that. I was there. I took the corner too fast.”

  “That’s it?” Matt asked.

  “That’s it. Simple fact of losing control. I need to take a defensive driving course. I could add that to my resume.”

  “I took a self-defense class a few months ago, remember? We could take the driving class together,” I offered.

  “The two of you are out of your minds. We’re sitting here, waiting for the doctor—”

  Who chose that moment to enter the room. “Ah, my patient is awake. Wonderful. How are you feeling, Miss Steele?”

  “A little sore, but good. Can I go home?”

  “In the morning, if there are no repercussions to the knock on the head.” He glanced at her chart. “Your visitors will have to leave.”

  Matt sighed and planted a kiss on Mary Ann’s forehead. I moved to the other side of the bed and kissed her cheek. She grabbed our hands, and whispered, “I stomped on my brakes, but they didn’t work. You might want to get a mechanic to check out what’s left of my car.”

  13

  Matt probably broke the sound barrier getting us to the mechanic. It didn’t matter that the window s
howed a closed sign. He banged until a short, wiry man in oil-stained coveralls glared at us through the window. Matt flashed his badge.

  The man muttered something from the other side of glass and opened the door. “Make it quick. I got someplace to be.”

  I probably should have warned the poor guy to keep his mouth shut. Matt blasted him with enough verbal bullets the man should have been writhing on the ground in pain. Still, Roger, his name badge said, crossed his arms and took the assault like a soldier.

  “Yeah, they brought the Volkswagen in a few hours ago.” Roger thumbed toward the back of the building. “I ain’t looked at it yet. There isn’t much left.”

  “I want you to look at the brakes. Now. Please.” Matt added the please as if the word was forced through his teeth in hopes of softening the mechanic’s mood. I didn’t think it would work.

  “Come on.” Roger stomped toward huge metal doors in the back of the building. “My wife made my favorite dinner, lasagna with garlic bread, and she gets real cranky when I’m late.”

  “My sister is lying half-dead in the hospital. I win.”

  “Didn’t figure it was a contest.” Roger slid open the doors, giving us our first glimpse of what should have been Mary Ann’s coffin.

  The poor car was half of its already small size. The engine sat where Mary Ann’s lap would have been.

  “I heard the driver ended up in the back seat. Nasty wreck.” Roger motioned toward the hole where the door used to be. “Feel free to look around.”

  “I’d like you to tell me whether the brakes failed and why, if possible.” Matt’s face had turned the shade of dry oatmeal.

  My heart went out to him. I wasn’t feeling so chipper myself. The sight of the mangled car would turn anyone’s stomach, much less someone who cared deeply for the injured driver. Only God’s mercy had Mary Ann still breathing after her encounter with that tree.

  Roger muttered something that sounded a lot like a curse word under his breath, then stepped on a small plate in the floor. The plate activated a platform that rose, taking the car with it and allowing us a good view of mangled car guts.