Missy's face scorched. "We were high school sweethearts. What we did as teenagers is none of your business."
Ellen didn't appear the least bit dressed down. "Isn't it true that..."
Ellen continued to talk, but Missy had spotted an interesting face in the crowd: Cooper Merritt.
He was about ten years older than her but kept in good shape. He was tall enough to stand in the very back and have no problem seeing over everybody, which put him a good sight over six feet. Cooper had salt and pepper hair that was just beginning to thin on top. Missy froze in horror as his eyes locked on hers. His expression was inscrutable. She'd never seen him in the bookstore before and assumed the only reason he'd come out was for her impromptu press conference. But why? From what she knew of him, Cooper wasn't the type to be interested in gossip. Most men weren't. His presence seemed odd and was setting off all kinds of alarms in her head. If—
"Ms. DeMeanor?"
Missy's eyes snapped back like a rubber band to Ellen. "Yes?"
There was a ripple of laughter through the crowd at her having been caught not paying attention.
"I asked you about your family's unique history with Albert Switzer and his ex-wife."
How to answer that one? It seemed like the whole town knew more about it than her. Missy took a deep breath.
"That was a long time ago, and to be honest, I didn't even know the details until after Mr. Switzer was dead."
"You expect us to believe—"
"The old-timer was a tough son of a bitch, it probably took somebody big to do it."
Missy didn't know what offended her more, the fact that someone had just spoken ill of the dead or the fact that someone had implied she had done it by using the word big.
She scanned the crowd, ready to knock whoever it was down a few pegs. But when she spotted the speaker, her blood ran cold.
Oliver McCleary was standing in the back of the Thriller and Mystery section. Three feet of space had opened up all around him as people tried to distance themselves. Oliver wore all black and had his hood pulled up over his head, casting his mean, wild-eyed face in shadow. He stood unnaturally still while all eyes shifted his way. The hostile and judgmental stares he received did nothing to faze him. It was like he had a social force field.
“Yeah, whoever did it had to be able to throw their weight around.” He smiled, or at least tried to. His face couldn’t seem to make the gesture.
Missy looked him dead in the eye. If she had been alone with him, she would have run in the opposite direction. But with the crowd behind her, Missy figured it was safe to challenge him.
“Where were you Saturday morning, Oliver?”
That alien smile stayed firmly in place as he shrugged. “Sleeping. Friday night was spectacular.”
Might as well interrogate him while she had a roomful of people to back her. “Can anybody confirm that?”
“Yeah, two somebodies, both of them women.”
Missy almost threw up in her mouth at the thought of McCleary spending an evening with two women. Come to think of it, one would have given her the same reaction. Why were women drawn to sleaze like Oliver McCleary?
“How’d you kill that old bastard?” he asked. “Sit on him?”
Missy felt all eyes in the room. They were looking at her plus-sized body. It had been a long time since she’d been this embarrassed and actually wanted to die of shame, probably not since middle school when Abby Pualwan had told all the boys what size underwear she wore.
She wanted to run out of the bookstore. Everybody was looking at her.
But she couldn’t run away. She was a grown woman and she’d done a lot more with her life than Oliver McCleary had. Who was he?
“McCleary, how old are you? Eleven? Are you seriously still making fun of people about their weight?”
“I wasn’t joking,” he said. “I was being serious.”
“McCleary.”
Tyler made his way through the crowd. “I think it’s time you left.”
McCleary faced him and the smirk turned into something dangerous. “I’m just here for the press conference, pig.”
The insult landed harmlessly on Tyler. He’d probably been called a lot worse in Philadelphia. “Come on.”
McCleary slapped his hand away. “I’m allowed to be here.”
Tyler’s body language changed. He got a little lower and assumed an aggressive posture. It reminded her of seeing him all those years ago on the basketball court. If it weren’t for the situation, he would have looked like he was getting ready to catch a pass and make a layup.
“This is private property, and I’ve gotten complaints. Isn’t that right, folks?” Tyler said.
It took a moment, but then all at once everybody chimed in. Brett asked Tyler if he could remove McCleary from the store, and it was all the justification that Tyler needed.
“Out,” Tyler said.
McCleary shouldered Tyler on his way out. The crowd parted for him quickly as he stormed out of the bookstore.
Missy had never been so happy to see Tyler. Though she felt like she could have handled the situation by herself, she was still grateful for his intervention. McCleary was off, and there was no telling what might have happened if he’d been allowed to go unchecked. The crowd was mostly stay-at-home moms or retirees, and Brett wasn’t very physically imposing. Yes, without Tyler here, McCleary could have done anything.
Once McCleary was out of the bookstore, Tyler took his eyes off the door and turned to Missy. She flashed a grateful smile at him, her knight in shining armor. And she didn’t care if everybody knew how safe he’d made her feel. They were already gossiping about the two of them, so who cared?
“Thank y—” she started to say.
Tyler cut her off. “This press conference is over.”
The good feelings of the moment quickly passed. “What?”
“I need to speak to you.” Tyler slogged through the crowd toward her.
“You can’t prohibit me from talking to the press.”
“There aren’t any reporters here!” somebody yelled. Ellen Stein whirled to see who that was, but the culprit had already ducked out the door.
Missy folded her arms as Tyler met her at the podium. “Ever hear of the First Amendment?”
“Damnit, Melissa.” Tyler lowered his voice. “This is a…”
He stopped talking and looked around. Plenty of stragglers were hanging around, not so secretly watching them talk. They were all hoping to get some more gossip. It was times like these Missy hated small towns. Everybody knew everything.
Tyler said, “Is there someplace we can talk in private?”
“You can say what you have to say here.”
He took a deep breath. This was the first time in the last few days she’d seen him lose his cool. It had been a rare occurrence, come to think of it, when they’d dated in high school. Even back then, he’d been unflappable, a smile never far from his face.
“Melissa.” His eyes pleaded with her. “Please.”
She wanted to stick it to him, but then she thought about how he’d taken care of McCleary. She owed him for that.
“Let’s go in Brett’s office.”
Chapter Eighteen
Tyler closed the door as she sat at Brett’s desk. There were no windows in Brett’s office except the one facing the back lot. In other words, nobody in the store could see them so no doubt the rumors were already flying.
“Look,” Missy said. “I really appreciate what you did with McCleary. That guy is a jerk and he creeps me out. But I’m allowed to talk to people.”
“Yes, you’re allowed to talk to people. But I’m asking you not to.”
She sighed. She hadn’t even wanted to do the press conference. That had been Brett’s idea. But now here she was arguing she should be allowed. Sometimes she didn’t even get herself.
No, that wasn’t true. She just didn’t like to be told what to do, even if it was something she didn’t want to do herself.
It made a kind of sense.
“Why?”
“Because this is a police investigation.” Tyler leaned on the word police. “It’s better if we control the flow of information, trust me.”
She hadn’t thought about that at all. The press conference had happened so quickly, she hadn’t had time to consider how it might mess things up for Tyler.
She swallowed her pride. “I’m sorry, Ty.”
His face softened and one side of his mouth smiled.
“What?”
“It’s been a long time since you called me Ty.”
She blushed. “Sorry.”
“No.” His face flashed that thousand-watt smile. “It was nice.”
Missy was suddenly aware of how small the room was, of how nobody could see them, of how his uniform pressed against his body and outlined his physique. She took in the V that his shoulders and waist formed.
“Uh…” He blinked first. “I really have to get back to work.”
Before she could stop him, Tyler opened the door and strode out of the bookstore.
***
The rest of the workday was uneventful. Noreen’s shift ended at four and she promised to return by seven armed with a new outfit for Missy so they could go out to Hank’s. In all the day’s excitement, Missy had kind of forgotten about Wing Night and using it as a way to question Cooper Merritt.
By dinner time the crowd had dwindled down to nothing. Brett went in the back to run some numbers on the day’s sales. Without even counting a single sale, Brett already knew it was the best day they’d had in a long time. Missy checked out the last customer and then started re-shelving. Brett had a ton of books in the back and Missy figured he’d need most of them to fill in all this gaping shelf space.
Brett emerged a few minutes later, holding something.
"Listen, Brett, I wanted to talk to you about earlier." Missy had made up her mind to explain to him she hadn't wanted to do a press conference and had felt kind of forced into it because he was her boss.
"Perfect." Brett smiled. "That's just why I was coming out to talk to you."
Brett handed her a wad of money.
"What's this?" Missy completely forgot what she'd been about to say.
"Best day we've had in years." Brett couldn't smile any wider. "Maybe ever. And I know why. People came here because of what you're going through right now. I know how difficult the last few days have been for you, and I wanted to show you my thanks for coming in and fielding those questions."
"That's not necessary."
"You'd be a fool not to take it." Brett forced the wad into her hand. "Your dinner and drinks are on me tonight. Yours and Noreen's."
"Thanks." Missy stuffed the cash into her pocket. How much was in there? Two hundred bucks maybe? She'd count it later.
Brett's smile lessened. "Missy, you know me. I tell you and Noreen how it is. You know the store has struggled of late. I don't know how much longer I can keep this going, but I can tell you that today went a long way."
"Thank you, Brett. I really appreciate it."
The door opened, and Noreen stepped in carrying a form-fitting black t-shirt with a v-neck that Missy would have trouble fitting into in high school, never mind thirty pounds later.
"What. Is. That."
Noreen smiled and held it up. "Your shirt. And I brought new jeans too."
Missy shook her head. "I can't wear that."
Brett had never engaged in any conversation with them about fashion over the years, but for some ungodly reason, he decided to tonight. "That's going to look great on you, Miss. Va-va-voom."
Missy was too worried about the shirt to register that Brett had just used the phrase Va-va-voom about her.
"Nor, I really don't think—”
"Just try it on. Once you see it in the mirror, you'll change your mind."
"I don't—”
Noreen plowed forward and ushered Missy into the back. "Brett, you won't mind if you we use your office real quickly?"
"Go right ahead." He smiled.
Noreen forced the outfit into Missy's hands. "Just give it a try." Before Missy could respond, she closed the door.
Missy looked nervously at the shirt. There was no way, just no way. And even if it was flattering, the plunging neckline was a little too revealing for her typically modest tastes. The jeans were a different fit too. She guessed they sat lower on the hips, a style that normally she would avoid at all costs out of fear of showing the tacky coin slot.
Missy decided to try the jeans first. They were blue-grey and snug and took some effort to get on, but actually stretched and contoured to her body well. They were lower on the hips than what she usually wore, as best she could tell without a full-length mirror they weren't slutty.
Now for the shirt. She pulled it on, feeling the fabric stretch as she did. To call it form-fitting would have been an understatement, and even worse, it was a little short with the jeans she had on, exposing a teeny-tiny line of flesh around her stomach, but a line nonetheless. And that wasn't even the worst part.
The black t-shirt gave her a mile of cleavage. She’d never forget what Brian Young had called it at the eighth grade dance: the Grand Canyon.
At the time she’d been horrified because the comment only drew attention to her body. But these days she was actually proud of her chest. It was her best feature in her own estimation. Wearing something flattering was one thing, though. Flaunting her boobs in a teeny-tiny t-shirt was something else entirely. It just wasn’t her style and was definitely not the message she wanted to send to guys. Though considering how many guys had come calling of late, maybe it was time she reconsidered.
Missy stepped out of the office and made a bee line for the bathroom before Noreen or Brett saw her. She closed the door and turned on the light. The mirror wasn’t full-length, but it was pretty big. Her breasts were more noticeable than high beams on a dark road. The jeans actually didn’t look bad.
There was a knock at the door.
“Almost ready?” Noreen asked.
Missy checked herself in the mirror one more time. She actually didn’t look bad. But she didn’t think she had the confidence to pull this look off. People would be able to see her. Maybe if she lost another ten or fifteen pounds, she could try—
“Missy, it’s an outfit, not a binding contract. Are you ready?”
Missy sighed. She couldn’t go out like this. She came out of the bathroom.
“Oh-my-God-you-look-awesome,” Noreen said.
“Yeah.” Brett smiled. “Totally hot.”
Missy had always viewed Brett as asexual with his half-eye glasses, perpetual cardigans, and corduroys that never quite matched the shirt he was wearing.
“Uh, thanks…but I think I’m going to change.”
“You can’t.” Noreen held her palms out.
“No, I don’t feel—”
“No, I mean you literally can’t change.” Noreen got a sheepish look on her face. “I kind of, sort of, spilled soda on your shirt and jeans while you were in the bathroom. By accident.”
Missy couldn’t believe it. “By accident.”
Noreen nodded several times. “Yes. Yeah. By accident.” She checked her phone for the time. “And we really need to get going. Cooper is usually there for the start of Wing Night.”
“By accident, Noreen?”
“Hand to God.” But she didn’t raise her hand and Missy thought she saw her friend put her other hand behind her back, probably to cross her fingers.
“I can’t go out like this.”
“You look great,” Noreen said.
“Yeah, hotter than Mercury in its perigee.”
Missy didn’t even know what a perigee was and couldn’t be bothered to ask. She was terrified of going out like this.
“Miss, you need to shake things up. Cooper will be totally off his game if he sees you like this. You’ll be able to question him better.”
Noreen was probably right. It was more important to find
the killer than worry about showing off the bod.
“Okay.”
Chapter Nineteen
Hank’s was a neighborhood bar about fifteen minutes from Books and Crannies. It was one story, the siding was coming off, and music poured out the open doors and windows. The parking lot was half paved and half dirt, and as Noreen had warned on the way over, the place was packed. According to Noreen, Hank’s did a business on Wing Night to more than make up for its slower days.
They parked and entered the bar. The music was loud. Inside, Hank’s was basically one long, wide open floor with two bars on opposite sides, booths in the back and tables in the middle of the space. There were three TVs in the place, but only one worked. It was tuned soundlessly to a baseball game.
Missy was normally invisible in a crowd, especially when she was standing next to Noreen who was sooooo pretty without even trying.
But tonight it was like she had walked in naked. As they snaked their way through the crowd to a two-top that was free, she felt every eye swivel to her. They knew just about everybody here, so they nodded and helloed their way back to the table.
She held onto the sides of her jeans for dear life, afraid they would slip down in the back when she sat. It wasn’t usual she wore a thong, but of course today had been one of those days. Not because she particularly liked thongs, but because she was behind on wash. Low-rider jeans and a thong were a recipe for disaster as far as she was concerned.
They sat and looked over the menu. Missy wasn’t crazy about wings and didn’t want the mess they came with. She had spotted Cooper Merritt belly-up at the bar, sandwiched between his friends all of whom still worked at the factory.
Their waitress was Lorelei Dyer. She had been one year ahead of them both in school and had played field hockey with Missy.
“Miss, looking hot.” Lorelei wore her own revealing outfit. A white cutoff t-shirt that terminated a few inches north of her belly button and ripped jean shorts that showed off her thighs.
“Thanks, Lorelei, how have you been?”
“Good. What can I get you ladies?”
Noreen ordered a twenty-three ounce draft of some seasonal local ale. Missy settled on a mixed drink, as always thinking about the calories.
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