“She seems very … friendly.” I chose the smallest coffee, took a sip, and then set it on a table behind me. After too many late nights writing, I looked forward to a good night’s sleep.
He snorted. “That’s a nice way of putting it. I’ll serve the coffee.” He moved around the room, tray in hand, letting those in attendance choose their beverage of choice.
By now, my entire family, Cheryl, Ms. Dillow, Tyler and his mother, myself, Mary Ann, Robert, Matt, Ryan, and a few curious strangers filled the room and nibbled on Mom’s delicious cookies. Let the games begin. My stalker was here, I knew it. Excitement and apprehension skipped up my backbone.
I retrieved my coffee, and sipped. After draining the cup, I tossed it into a nearby trashcan overflowing with cups, napkins, popped balloons, and oleander flowers.
I squared my shoulders and clapped my hands. “May I have your attention, please? You may have to crowd close because of the decorations. I don’t want anyone to miss the big reveal.” Once everyone was within sight of the table I stood behind, I continued. “As you know, I’ve called anyone involved with the soon-to-be-released next novel of mine. I’ve recently received the cover art and am thrilled to be able to present it to you … my biggest fans, and those who have made this possible,” I whipped off the napkin covering the photo. “the cover to A Killer Plot.”
Silence filled the room. I scanned the faces. In front of the crowd stood a stony-faced Cheryl and a granite-faced Ms. Dillow. Matt’s eyes widened, Ryan didn’t know what to say, and my sister held a hand over her mouth to hide a grin. No doubt she had figured out exactly what I was trying to do. Mom looked as irritated as she used to when I had been up to no good as a child.
“That,” Ms. Dillow pointed at the photo. “Does not look anything like the first book.”
Cheryl moved closer. “Isn’t this supposed to be the second book in a series? Shouldn’t they look the same?”
“The figure on the cover looks deformed,” Dakota stated, shoving a cookie in his mouth. “The cover is awesome in being suspenseful looking, but the person is almost cartoonish. Is that the look you were going for?”
Bless you, my nephew. You are the smartest tack in the room.
Norma crossed her arms, making her bosom even more pronounced. “Is this a joke? Where’s the real cover?”
“This is it.” I kept my grin firmly in place and avoided the steely-eyed gaze of Matt. I knew he’d figured out my trick in quick time.
“What’s this second book about anyway?” Ms. Dillow asked. “I want to know this instant.”
“It’s about a bumbling email stalker who, while attempting to harm the protagonist, actually only makes their life more difficult. The stalker’s life, not the main character’s. I’ve modeled it after some recent events.” I draped the napkin back over the photo. “So, yes, the cover does depict the story; suspense with slap-stick humor.” I stepped back to watch where the cards would fall.
“How is that supposed to help the library?” Ms. Dillow asked.
“I can’t plan a release party for something so awful,” Cheryl said.
“I’m not sure I want to read any more of your books,” Norma said. “I muddle through, even though they have no sex, because the story is so entertaining. But a bumbling email stalker? That’s almost offensive in comparison to what you usually write.”
“I understand all of your concerns, and am more than willing to listen to each of you, privately, any time you wish. As the author, it is my prerogative to change my stories.”
“No!” Ms. Dillow stomped her foot. “As the author, it is up to you to satisfy your readers.”
Heads nodded around the room.
Mom stepped up to the table. “There are more cookies and snacks on the side table to enjoy while you discuss the new cover.” She turned to me, and hissed, “Are you crazy?”
“A little bit.” I smiled and high-fived Mary Ann.
“Ah, I get it.” Mom nodded. “You’re trying to draw out your stalker.”
“And putting an even bigger target on your back.” Matt took me by the arm and pulled me from the room. Outside, he rubbed his hands down his face. “Do you mind telling me what all that was about?”
“My new book cover.” I choked off a giggle.
His eyes glittered in the light of a street lamp. “While the cover is very interesting, I also recognize my sister’s handiwork. That is the cover she drew in Junior High art class. She never could do people very well. What are you doing?”
“It’s not an original? Oh, well. It won’t matter.”
“It is an original. She drew it herself. Stop trying to change the subject.” He leaned against the post.
“You’re right.” I sighed. “I’m trying to draw out the bad guy or woman, as I suspect it may be. Have you noticed, except for Mary Ann’s accident and near-escape from meeting Jesus, we have no dead bodies? Women don’t like things messy.”
“Ms. Henley didn’t seem to have a problem.”
“True, but she was protecting her son. Not that I excuse her actions, but I’ve read numerous times about how mothers can be driven to extremes when their children are threatened. I still say my stalker is a woman.”
“One of the women here?” He glanced toward the building.
“Yes.”
“They’ve all checked out.”
“That only means they’ve never committed a crime before. We need to see whether they’ve had any stressors in their life. Something to set them over the edge.”
“Stop thinking like a detective and start thinking like a woman who wants to stay alive.”
“I do want to stay alive.” I stepped closer, inviting him to take me into his arms. “But staying out here with you isn’t allowing me to eavesdrop in there.”
“Do you care about me, Stormi?”
“Very much.”
“Then why are you trying so hard to kill me?”
Something rustled in the oleander bushes behind me. Matt yanked me behind him. “Who’s there?”
I never could understand why people asked that question. If I were hiding and intended ill toward someone, I wouldn’t announce myself.
“It’s me.” Cherokee skulked from the bushes, followed by Tyler. “Don’t tell Mom, okay? We weren’t doing anything wrong.”
Poor Sarah would be so heart-broken. She had someone else picked out for Tyler, at least in her latest smut book. “If you weren’t doing anything wrong, then why were you hiding? You do know that plant is poisonous, right?”
“Because Mom gets freaked out every time I have a boyfriend, and yes, I know its poisonous, but we aren’t eating it.”
Well, that explains why Tyler was so eager to accept my invitation to deliver coffee to my get-together. “I’ll try talking to your mother if she gets wind of this. For now, you two get back inside.”
I tried running back through my mind as to what, exactly, Matt and I had discussed. If Cherokee and Tyler had been in there the whole time, they could have heard something damaging that Tyler could then repeat to his mother and thwart my plan.
17
An hour later, Matt and I sat around the table with Mary Ann and Ryan. Mary Ann’s eyelids drooped, but she refused to go to bed despite the clock chiming nine o’clock. “I don’t want to miss anything.”
“Then let’s move to the living room so you can fall asleep on the sofa if you want.” Matt helped her to her feet.
“Anyone want coffee?” I asked.
“I do. It’s my turn to keep watch tonight,” Ryan said.
“It’s always your turn.” I measured coffee grounds. “You’ll keel over from exhaustion if you aren’t careful. Then, how am I going to get you to date my sister.” I grinned.
“You want me to date Angela?” His dark eyes narrowed. “Why? She’s as white as white can be and I’m—”
“I know what you are. That doesn’t matter to me or my sister. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.” I pushed the button on the
coffee pot. “All I care about is that she finds a good man, and you’re a good man.”
He put one large hand over his heart. “I’m touched.” He pointed. “Shouldn’t you have a pot under that?”
“Oh.” I’d forgotten the pot. Now a fragrant stream of coffee ran across the countertop and onto the floor. “Let me get this cleaned up, and I’ll join y’all in the other room.” Idiot. I swiped my forearm across my forehead. It sure was hot in the house for October. My stomach cramped. Maybe I was the one who needed to lie down.
Instead, I muddled through, made the coffee, and then joined the others. Matt leaped up to take the tray from me. “Are you all right?”
I shook my head. “I feel like I might be coming down with the flu. Let’s discuss tonight so Mary Ann and I can both lie down. We were going to discuss stressors.”
“I mentioned that we were more concerned with Ms. Dillow, Cheryl, and Tyler’s mother,” Mary Ann explained. “Since the three are your biggest so-called fans.”
“Janet Dillow is being let go at the end of the year,” Ryan read from a notepad in his lap. “The library is cutting back due to lack of funds. Cheryl Isaacson takes care of her aging, very overweight mother, and spends a large portion of her paycheck on reading material. Norma Winston is in foreclosure. All three women have things going on in their lives that would cause them to snap. The only thing that makes me hesitant is that no one has reacted violently.”
“Hey, someone cut my brakes.” Mary Ann threw a pillow at him.
“True, but usually when someone snaps, they choose a more aggressive form of murder.”
I groaned and pressed a sofa pillow against my abdomen. “Not everyone reacts the same way.”
Matt placed the back of his hand against my cheek. “You’re burning up.”
“It’s kind of hot in here.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“I’m going to throw up.” I leaped to my feet and raced to the restroom. I lost my cookies, literally, in the toilet before falling to my knees. This was no ordinary flu.
“How long have you felt like this?” Matt helped me to my feet, sat me on the edge of the tub, and reached for a clean washcloth.
“An hour, maybe?”
“I’m taking you to the hospital.” He wet the rag, placed it across my forehead and scooped me into his arms. “Stay with Mary Ann,” he told Ryan. “I think Stormi has been poisoned.”
“What?” Convulsions seized my body, whether from cold or from fear, I couldn’t say. Poison? The oleanders. “Matt, there were oleander blossoms in the trash can at the party. The can right next to my coffee.”
“Call an ambulance.” He dashed back to the bathroom and sat me on the side of the tub again. “Throw up again.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Stick your finger down your throat.”
“You’re scaring me.” I sagged to the floor. My heart raced. “I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack.”
“Tell the operator we think it’s oleander poisoning,” Matt yelled down the hall. “And don’t talk to Cheryl Isaacson.”
I doubled over, the pain so intense, perspiration poured down my face and back. I didn’t want to die. Not like this. I gripped Matt’s hand. “I’m going to pass out.”
“No, you’re not.” He sat next to me, wrapping his strong arms around me. “Stay with me, Stormi.”
“And you thought I was trying to kill you.” I tried to laugh off my fear and pain, instead the sound came out as more of a strangled cough. “Back at the library. Remember? When you asked if I cared about you?”
“I remember.” He rested his chin on the top of my head.
Sirens filled the air. Matt lifted me again and rushed to meet them. My hero, not wanting to waste the seconds it would take for the paramedics to come into the house. He laid me on a gurney where someone injected me with a needle. “I hope that’s a cardiac depressant,” I said, “because my heart is going faster than a falling star.”
I closed my eyes, giving into the darkness.
When I woke, Mom and Matt were both snoozing in chairs beside my bed. My mouth tasted bitter and was as dry as if filled with cotton. Relieved I still breathed, I pushed the button next to me and raised my bed. “Hey.”
Matt’s eyes popped open. “Hey, yourself. How do you feel?”
“Thirsty. Was it oleander?”
“We think so. At least the treatment worked.”
“No one else got sick,” Mom said. “So, it wasn’t the cookies. You must have drank it in your coffee.”
I thought back. I’d taken a coffee out of habit when Tyler’s mother presented the tray and set it behind me. Anyone could have tampered with it while grabbing a cookie. My heart skipped a beat. Someone had actually tried to kill me. No longer was my stalker someone who stayed in the background. They’d taken a giant step forward. “My plan is working.”
“Too bad your brain isn’t.” Mom crossed her arms. “Antagonizing a psycho is never a good idea.”
“I have to agree with Ann on this one.” Matt sighed. “If we hadn’t stayed to discuss what happened at the party, you would have died in your sleep.”
“But, I didn’t, so now what?”
“Ryan is interrogating everyone at the library. While the Winstons brought the coffee, you said you set yours down, thus making it accessible to anyone.”
“I need my laptop.” Maybe the attempted killer sent me a message.
“I thought you would.” Mom pulled my laptop from her shoulder bag.
Sure enough, an email awaited, and not a happy one. I read, “I hope you liked your coffee, not that I’m sure you’ll even get to read this. Oleander stalks make wonderful coffee stirrers. Oh, and if you are alive to read this, take your note out of your office window and make a new cover for the book. Heaven can’t help you if I don’t approve of the cover or the story.”
“Oh, we’re a greedy little bugger, aren’t we?” I closed the laptop. “I’m not changing a thing.”
“You’re increasing the risk to yourself.” Tears welled in Mom’s eyes. “Six months ago, I was as gung ho as you, but then, someone hadn’t tried to poison you.”
“No, they just took the entire family at gunpoint.”
“After we knew who the killer was.”
“Mom, does that really matter?”
“Yes. Not knowing is way worse.”
“Ladies,” Matt interrupted. “It’s going to be fine. I won’t be leaving Stormi or Mary Ann alone again. I’ll be sleeping on your sofa until this is over, and Detective Koontz will do the leg work.”
“You’ll be bored out of your mind.” I slapped the mattress, hitting the button that lowered my bed, and jerked back.
“I’m never bored when I’m with you,” he said. “It’s impossible.”
“Mom, I want you and Angela to take the kids and go to the cabin.” Although I knew her answer, I couldn’t help but ask again.
“And leave you and Matthew in the house unsupervised? What kind of a mother would that make me?”
“Mary Ann is there. Please.”
She shook her head. “No, we’re in this together. Oh, I’m as crazy as you are. If I didn’t have a business to run, I know I’d be right there in the thick of things like you and Mary Ann.”
I was glad she had the store to keep her busy. The less people involved the better. I met Matt’s gaze. Worry lines radiated from the corners of his eyes. I’d tried to send him on his way. Even though my heart would have broken, it might have been the best thing. Now, his sister was injured, he had taken leave from a job he loved, and I’d almost died. What if he was next and couldn’t escape the fate his sister and I had?
“Good afternoon.” A man in a white doctor’s coat entered the room. “It’s good to see you awake. Are you ready to go home?”
“Afternoon? How long have I been here?” I glanced at Mom and Matt.
“Since last night,” the doctor answered. “We treated you and let you rest. You can go
home now.” He handed me papers to sign. “Try not to put any more plants in your mouth, all right?”
I nodded, feeling very much like a child even though ingesting the poison hadn’t been by choice or ignorance. I swung my legs over the side of the bed as Matt followed the doctor from the room. “Mom.”
“Yes?” She handed me my clothes. “If you’re going to bring up me leaving again, I’m going to smack you.”
My shoulders slumped as I slipped my legs into my jeans. If she insisted on staying, I’d have to continue working hard to keep the stalker’s attention fixed on me and me only. I also wouldn’t put anything into my mouth unless it never left my sight. When I discovered the identity of my stalker, we were going to rumble. For now, I needed to get home and finish the novella. Fireworks were going to explode when the book hit the digital book shelves.
“What are you cooking up in that mind of yours?” Mom handed me my shoes.
“I’m planning on a time to meet my admirer. It’s going to be very special.”
18
Loud voices woke me the next morning. I put the pillow over my head. It worked until Sadie leaned on the windowsill and barked. “Ugh.” I threw the pillow at her feet and climbed out of bed. “What is so critical that you must bark at seven a.m.?”
I parted the sheer drapes over my window. Matt stood on the sidewalk between an angry Tony Salazar and an equally annoyed Mark Wood. Their wives stood behind their husbands, arms crossed. Tony might be a small man, but the waves of indignation radiating from him were giant sized. I raised the window more than the couple of inches I’d left it open last night and leaned out.
“Gentlemen, we can resolve the situation without violence.” Matt held out his hands.
“That man … made wolf whistles at my wife,” Tony said.
“And I told you it wasn’t me.” Mark shook his head. “Have you seen my wife? Seriously, dude.”
“So, now my wife isn’t good enough for you?” Tony took a step forward, fists clenched. “Why’d you follow us here anyway? If you would have stayed in the old neighborhood, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Oooh, things just got interesting. I leaned out further. My neighbors knew each other from before. What was their connection? I’d take any distraction from my stalker problems. I was still reeling from the fact I’d almost died. Of course, it wasn’t the first time, but it hadn’t lost its … non-thrill.
Nosy Neighbor: All 7 complete Nosy Neighbor cozy mysteries PLUS: 2 short Christmas stories (A Nosy Neighbor mystery) Page 26