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

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Nosy Neighbor: All 7 complete Nosy Neighbor cozy mysteries PLUS: 2 short Christmas stories (A Nosy Neighbor mystery) Page 37

by Cynthia Hickey


  “Thanks for the dinner.” Matt stood. “Here is the code for the alarm.” He handed me a slip of paper and a remote. “The remote operates the television, which gives you video surveillance of each side of your house. Tomorrow, I’ll bring pizza.” He tilted my face to his and kissed me. “Try to get some sleep. You look done in.” He smiled and left.

  “How are we going to figure out who is growing poison ivy?” I cleared the table, stacking the dishes in the sink.

  “We’re going to ask questions.” Greta filled the sink with hot water and added soap. “You’re going to be a nosy old woman worried about the spiritual needs of today’s youth. You’re going to talk about hobbies and God, which will either alienate or endear those boys to you.”

  “They’ll recognize me.”

  “Not with the makeup you’ll be wearing. You’ll look every year of your seventy-two years.” Greta chuckled. “Before joining law enforcement, I dabbled in theatre. This will work.”

  I hoped so. We needed a huge break. While I loved the cabin, it was for vacation, not a place to hide. “You do realize that anyone can approach the cabin from four different directions, three of which are covered with trees?” The surveillance cameras will pick up any movement, but by then, anyone intending to do me harm will already be on the property.

  “I don’t think anyone can find out where you are unless they are told. Your family won’t talk, will they?”

  “Not unless their lives are threatened.” If someone said they would hurt one of her children, then Angela would spill her guts. Not that I blamed her. I’d do the same if I had children.

  “Don’t let things get you down.” Greta handed me a bowl to dry. “We’ll catch Daisy’s killer and protect you at the same time. It isn’t a surprise to God that we’re out here.”

  I nodded, hoping it wasn’t my time to be called “home”. “I think I’m going to get a bit of writing done and check my emails.” I left her to do the dishes and headed to one of the two bedrooms.

  I’d set my laptop on the dresser and waited for a very slow internet to dial up. While my phone had a WiFi I could hook the laptop to, it wasn’t as fast as I was used to. I glanced at the shuttered window, hating that it wasn’t safe enough to watch the sunset over the trees. I didn’t see the reason for the windows to be boarded. Matt hadn’t said we had to stay inside, just out of the city. I opened the window and pushed the shutters wide. If I wanted privacy, I’d use the curtains.

  Sadie whined at the door. I grabbed her leash off the dresser and grabbed my coat. The poor dog couldn’t be expected to stay cooped up inside all the time.

  “Take your gun,” Greta called as I headed for the door.

  I sighed and pulled my Glock from my purse, then slipped it into the waistband of my jeans. One year ago, I was nothing more than a romance novelist who wanted to be left alone with my cats. Since then, I’d stumbled over a dead body, literally, became owner of said body’s giant scaredy-cat dog, then had a crazy woman stalk me because I wasn’t writing my books fast enough. Now, this. I couldn’t help but wonder if changing to the mystery genre had been a bad move. Maybe I should have chosen erotica, eew, but they didn’t seem to have insane fans disturbing their peaceful lives. Maybe she needed to ask Sarah Thompson if she had any kooks bothering her.

  Brr, it was cold. I let Sadie loose, commanded her to stay, and pulled my coat tighter around me. Looping her leash around my wrist again, I strolled the perimeter of the property. The crisp air cleared my head and woke my appetite.

  A breeze blew the branches of the leafless trees, the sound like whispers from a graveyard. The lowering sun cast shadows that sent my heart into overdrive. “Hurry up, Sadie. I’m getting creeped out.”

  How dare this unknown person make me afraid of one of my most favorite places? Every summer of my childhood had been spent swimming in the lake on the other side of the trees. I refused to let someone destroy my pleasant memories. I headed back to the cabin and sat on the steps while Sadie did her business.

  The sun finally disappeared over the horizon, casting the area into darkness until Sadie moved, then the yard lit up like a football stadium. I sighed and headed inside, calling for Sadie to follow.

  Greta sat on the sofa, the television on. “This is pretty cool. I watched you walk around the entire yard.”

  It wouldn’t have done much good if someone would have been waiting for me. There was no way Greta would have gotten to me in time. I refilled Sadie’s water dish and joined Greta on the sofa. “Is there anything else on television.”

  She laughed. “Without cable, no. I’ll have to read.”

  “You make it sound like a death sentence.”

  “Not one of my favorite past times.” She set down the remote, leaving the TV on. “I did bring some knitting. Maybe I’ll work on my scarf.”

  Figuring my computer had to be booted up by then, I went back to my room. Over one hundred emails waited for a response. I scanned through and deleted the ones I didn’t want to read and opened one from my agent.

  “Just a reminder about your book signing this Saturday. Good luck.”

  How could I have forgotten. I sent an email to her and one to the bookstore saying I had had a family emergency and would need to reschedule. I would explain more to my agent when I was no longer in hiding.

  Another email, this one from Sarah Thompson, erotica writer with a twisted mind, asked where I was. She needed to talk to me about a plot that wouldn’t fall into place. While I didn’t mind helping other writers, her stuff grossed me out. I replied that I was out of town on vacation and would connect with her in a week.

  Now that the emails I needed to take care of were out of the way, I pulled up my latest manuscript. The blank page taunted me. I’d never been able to concentrate under stress. Instead, my mind drifted to which of our suspects would be the most likely to have access to poison ivy in January. Not one of them seemed a good candidate.

  “Stormi, come here,” Greta called from the living room.

  I joined her and witnessed a fox scurrying along the tree line, highlighted by the motion lights. “I guess we’ll see a lot of wildlife.”

  “I think so.” She sighed. “The time out here is going to drag. I’ve done stakeouts before that had more action.”

  “Let’s plan what questions we’re going to ask tomorrow.” I sat on the other end of the sofa.

  “Good idea. Remember, the focus is on pretending to witness to people while snooping into their private lives. We have to find out who had a grudge against Daisy and who is into plants.”

  “I’m not a very good actress.” I plucked at the canary yellow skein of yarn between Greta and I.

  “No pressure, but you’ll have to be. Your life could depend on it.”

  “Matt would say that saving my life means staying put here.”

  “But, you can’t do that.”

  I shook my head. “Nope. I’ve never been very good at letting others solve my problems.” As evidenced in the past.

  Why couldn’t I sit back like a good girl and let the police handle the danger? Because the not knowing what was going on would drive me crazy. I was a poor, pathetic, sick-in-the-head writer of romantic mysteries and romance novels. I wanted to add an element of truth to my stories.

  I sighed. I hadn’t even had time lately to research love scenes with Matt.

  “You look like someone ran over your dog.” Greta picked up her knitting.

  “Just thinking of Matt’s kisses.”

  “That ought to make you smile, not sigh like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.”

  “We haven’t had a lot of time to work on our relationship.”

  She grinned. “When he comes tomorrow, I’ll make myself scarce in my room and you two can set the sofa on fire.”

  I giggled. “We keep our relationship very proper.”

  “Too bad. That man is some good eye-candy. If I were twenty years younger, I’d give you some competition. Now, there are some t
winkies in the pantry. Why don’t you grab us each one?”

  “So cliché!” I smiled, wishing we had doughnuts.

  I found the box stuffed behind some dry cereal and pulled out two of the lard filled cakes. Sadie’s attention transferred from what I was getting to the back door. The hair on the back of her neck bristled. I closed the pantry door as quietly as possible and parted the curtains over the window.

  A face in a ski mask stared back at me. I screamed.

  10

  I yanked the door open and pulled my nephew inside. The alarm screamed. I punch in the numbers to disarm it.“Dakota Nelson, what in the world are you doing here?”

  Greta dashed into the kitchen, her gun drawn. “Boy, I could have killed you.”

  “How did you know it was me?” Dakota pulled off his ski mask.

  “Because I bought that mask for you for Christmas.” I bopped him in the back of the head. “Now, answer my question.”

  “It’s boring at home. I thought you could use my help. Twinkies!” He grabbed the ones in my hand and sat at the kitchen table.

  “No way.” Greta set her gun on the counter and snatched them back. “Not until we’re done talking to you. How did you get here?”

  “I had a friend drop me off. Don’t worry. I swore him to secrecy.” He glanced at the television. “Cool. Cameras. See? You need me. I can help watch. We can take shifts.”

  “Oh, Dakota.” I shook my head, taking a seat across the table from him. “Coming here has put us in danger.”

  “No, my friend won’t say anything. I only told him we were spending the weekend at the cabin. He doesn’t know what’s going on so can’t say anything to hurt us.” He tapped his temple with his forefinger. “I thought about it first.”

  “Not very well.” My sister was going to have a fit when she found out. “We need to take you home.”

  “I’ll just come back. Let me help, please.” He gave me the look kids who want something are so famous for giving.

  “It’s past your bedtime,” I said, for lack of anything else.

  “Puh-leese. Can I have the Twinkies now?”

  Greta tossed them to him. “It’s against my better judgement for him to stay, but it’s too late to drive him home now.”

  “I’ll call Angela.” I huffed and went to my room to fetch my cell phone.

  I dialed her number. “Dakota is here,” I said the minute she answered.

  “What do you mean he’s there?” Her shrill voice threatened to pierce my eardrum. “He’s spending the night with his friend, Carl.”

  “No, he had his friend drop him off here. He said he was bored.”

  “You had better not let my boy get shot.” Click.

  That went better than I’d thought. What were we going to do with Dakota when we went snooping in the morning?

  “Your mother hung up on me,” I said, joining the other two in the living room. I collapsed in the easy hair and glanced at the television which the other two were totally engrossed in. “This is getting ridiculous.” I got to my feet and opened the front door. “Cherokee! Get in here.” Once she was inside, I set the alarm.

  “This is a regular family reunion,” Greta said. “Doesn’t anyone respect boundaries?”

  “Not in my family.”

  “Grandma’s coming,” Cherokee said, plopping on the sofa between Greta and her brother. She jumped back up like she’d been bit and pulled a knitting needle from the cushions. “You could kill someone with these things. Grandma’s car is having trouble getting up the road.”

  Matt was going to have a coronary. I dialed his number on my phone.

  “Miss me already?”

  “Yes.” I bit my bottom lip. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, but my entire family has arrived at the cabin. Except for Angela, that is.”

  “Explain.” His voice hardened.

  “I didn’t invite them. They just showed up. Dakota said he was bored. I haven’t asked Mom and Cherokee why they’re here yet.” I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the back of the chair. A massive headache was knocking, asking to come in.

  The alarm shrilled again on Mom’s entrance. “I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow.” I hung up before Matt could protest and hurried to punch in the code.

  “The alarm thing again?” Mom frowned. “Must we be annoyed here and at home?”

  “It’s for your safety.” Greta stood and helped Mom with her armload of groceries. It looked as if she’d bought enough for a year’s stay.

  “What are all of you doing here?” I planted my fists on my hips. “What about the shop, Mom?”

  “I took a vacation. I’m worn out, too. It was a lot of work getting the orders done without Greta so I could take a few days off.” She plopped a cardboard box on the table. “Can you get the suitcases, Dakota?”

  He sighed. “Is my mom coming, too? Because I can do a lot more if she isn’t here.”

  “I have no idea, sweetie.” Mom kissed his cheek, which he promptly wiped off, then gave him a shove to the door.

  “Fifteen-year-old boys don’t like kisses on their cheeks from their grandmother,” I said heading outside to help my nephew.

  “My grandson will never outgrow my kisses!”

  Dakota leaned against the van. “Mom will be here. You know that, right? And she’s the most paranoid person I know.”

  “That’s how mothers are where their children are concerned.” Not that I had personal experience. I leaned next to him. “While I love all of you very much, I wish you wouldn’t have come.”

  “You can’t fight this on your own. Just like the other times, family sticks together.” He cocked his head and peered up at me. “How do you keep getting mixed up in these things?”

  “Luck, I guess.” I pushed away from the van. “Let’s get unloaded.”

  Three suitcases later, my head still pounded. The bright security lights in my eyes as I headed for the cabin didn’t help either. I set the suitcases inside the door, reset the alarm, and wondered where everyone was going to sleep.

  The question was answered the moment I walked in the door. Mom was sharing my room, Cherokee had claimed Greta’s room to share with her mother upon her inevitable arrival, Greta had the pull out sofa, and Dakota was already spreading a sleeping bag on the floor.

  “What’s the plan?” Mom asked over her shoulder as she put away groceries. “I know you have one.”

  Greta filled Mom in while I searched for a bottle of ibuprofen. I found one in the bathroom that had expired six months ago. With a shrug, I took three.

  “What do you want me to do?” Mom looked like a child on their birthday.

  “Nothing,” I said, joining them again. “You were supposed to stay home. Since you didn’t, you, and the others, will be staying here.”

  “No.” Mom pouted. “I want to do something. If you don’t allow me to, I’ll follow you. I can be incognito if I have to.”

  “You’re about as incognito as the proverbial pink elephant.” I plopped into a chair. She was right. She would only follow. “Fine. But you’re the driver of the van. You’ll dress like a man and wear one of Dakota’s beanies. You. Will. Stay. In. The. Van.” This was a bad idea.

  “You, daughter of mine, are no fun.”

  “Mom’s here.” Cherokee stared out the window. “She looks mad.”

  The ibuprofen was doing nothing for my headache. I disarmed the alarm before it went off and opened the door for Angela.

  “You’re a menace,” she said, pushing past me. “I ought to pack up my kids and move out of your house where you can’t be a bad influence on them.”

  “Go ahead.” There were times when I would like nothing more. This was one of those times.

  “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Her face darkened.

  “Yes.” I tilted my head to the side and smiled. “You’re sharing a room with your daughter.” I could not believe her attitude. I was renovating the attic into a private space for her and this was the thanks
I got.

  My cell phone rang. “Yeah?”

  “Is this a bad time?” Matt’s soft laughter eased a bit of my stress.

  “My entire family is here.” I stepped into the far corner of the kitchen to find some privacy. “I almost want the gang to find me.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse.” I plopped into a chair. “At least at home I could hide in my office. Won’t it look suspicious that we’ve all left?”

  “Yes, it will. I will try and convince the rest of your family to return home when I visit tomorrow. Why aren’t you in bed?”

  “Seriously? I have to share a room, and a bed, with my mother.”

  “Poor thing.” He laughed again. “I called because I was on my way home when Angela sped past me. I figured she was headed your way and was hoping to warn you.”

  “Thanks, but you’re too late.” I stood again and leaned back against the refrigerator. “Is there somewhere secret me and Greta could go?”

  “I’ll see what I can do. Talk to you tomorrow.” Click.

  “Come on, Sadie.” I opened the back door and stepped outside, wishing immediately that I had grabbed my jacket. I wrapped my arms around my middle and waited.

  Behind me, I heard the unmistakable sound of the lock engaging on the door. “Hey!” I banged on the window. “I’m out here!”

  “Sorry.” Mom grinned as she opened the door. “I should have looked.”

  I hugged and trudged past her. “I’m going to bed.”

  “I’ll come tuck you in a bit.”

  I rolled my eyes. I guessed sharing a bed invited certain childhood rituals. How on God’s green earth were Greta and I going to get away in the morning without a traveling circus?

  Since it took forever for my laptop to come alive on the mountain, I left it connected and closed the cover before dropping my clothes on the floor, donning flannel pajamas, and climbing into bed.

  Footsteps going past my door alerted me to the fact the others were also turning in for the night. I glanced at the time on my phone. Eleven fifty p.m. I was going to be a bear in the morning, and actually felt sorry for any gang members who might say the wrong thing to me.

 

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