Brett almost smiled. “Alright. Matter of fact, looks like we’re going to have a busy day again. Maybe she could come in this afternoon?”
Missy smiled. She hadn’t been serious, but now that she’d put it out there. “I can ask.”
For the next four hours straight, Missy and Noreen couldn’t leave the two cash registers. The checkout line was so long that it began to snake through the store, making it difficult for people to actually shop. Eventually Brett got the idea to open the back door and fed the line through that. Missy didn’t get to see for herself but later Brett was able to take a picture (he was going to put it on their website, which was updated once every six years), and the line of people flowed out from the back of the store, around to the front, down the sidewalk, all the way over to the other stores. The parking lot was an absolute zoo and more than a few times Missy heard the angry blare of car horns as drivers jockeyed for position. By the time Missy and Noreen could take a breather and get off their feet, many of the bookshelves were half-empty, prompting Brett to frantically go into the back in a desperate attempt to restock before the next fabled tsunami of customers.
“Take a break,” Noreen said.
“How nice of you.”
“No, you just look like you can barely walk. What’s the matter with your legs?”
It wasn’t just her legs, it was every part of her body that moved. Missy was still sore from the WiredFit workout, though she was tempted to go back tonight…Anyway, she didn’t feel like explaining that to Noreen.
“Thanks,” she said.
Noreen smiled. “So we’re even now?”
Missy laughed. “Nice try. You’re still in the hole. Big time.”
Noreen snapped her fingers in mock disappointment.
Missy came out from behind the desk, moving like Frankenstein’s monster she was so stiff. Outside, the day was heating up. Spring was right around the corner, her favorite season of the year.
She didn’t see Tyler Brock coming. His voice surprised her from behind.
“Melissa.”
“Tyler.”
He watched her move. “Did Ruby and John hurt you that bad?”
Missy laughed. “No, this was the work of Anastasia Monroe.”
“Oh right.” He smiled and his face turned red, like he was embarrassed. “I did hear about that.”
“You heard about that? How?”
He shrugged. “Word travels fast in the police station. Especially when transparent yoga pants are involved.”
She wanted to die. And would have, if he wasn’t smiling like he enjoyed the thought.
Missy asked, “Speaking of the police station…who did Trudy Shaw see pick up Anne Baxter that night at the grocery store?”
Tyler grunted. “One of our guys responded to a call. Anne was reviewing the books at the end of the month and thought she heard somebody come into the store after hours.”
Missy nodded. “And what’s going to happen to Ruby and John?”
“Ruby offered a full confession.” He shook his head. “John is an accessory after the fact, and we’re trying to get him on attempted murder also.”
“How can you do that?”
“Because he was planning on killing you.”
Duh. “Oh.”
“I just can’t believe it. I remember Ruby from when you babysat her.”
And like that, a beautiful, fresh memory came back to Missy. She hadn’t thought of the evening in question for a long time. But there was one night where Missy had been babysitting Ruby and Tyler had surprised her with a visit after the girl had gone to bed. He wasn’t supposed to be there, so Missy forced him to sit outside with her on the porch. Up until that point, she had always liked him but suffered from invisibility syndrome. Or so she thought. That night Tyler admitted to always noticing her. They hadn’t started dating right away, but that night had been the start of something much, much bigger. How could she have forgotten that happened while she’d been babysitting Ruby?
When she came back to the present, his eyes had that look. He knew exactly where she’d gone in her mind. He’d probably gone there too.
“So she really killed Anne Baxter because the woman was going to leave a bad review on a book she self-published under a pen name?”
Tyler nodded. “It actually wasn’t the first time.”
“What?”
They started walking in no particular direction. She fell in step with him as they crossed the parking lot.
“Ruby had written five books under various pen names. Her dream was to be a writer. Anne maintained that book review site where she accepted requests. Ruby approached her, through email and under her pen name of course, and requested a review on one of her other books. Anne blasted it, completely tearing it down, to the point where Ruby actually unpublished it. According to Ruby she had been seeing slow, but steady sales on the book, but once Anne got the proverbial ax out, that book died, along with that pen name.”
“But Ruby approached her again?” Missy said, in total disbelief.
“Yes. Under a different pen name. She wanted to change Anne’s mind about her writing. She said all authors are bipolar, one minute they’re the best ever, and the next they’re suffering from sheer panic, thinking they’re no good. Ruby craved that validation from a tough reviewer like Anne, but she didn’t get it. Anne destroyed the next book as well, completely eviscerating it. According to Ruby, her sales immediately dried up. Apparently, one star reviews on Amazon can kill a new writer’s career if they don’t have hundreds of glowing reviews to offset them.”
“Oh my God.”
“So Ruby tried a new name and new genre with this book. She thought this time maybe Anne could see the light if they talked about it at the Book Club and heard others express their opinions, but it became clear pretty quickly that Anne loathed the book and would write another scathing review.”
Missy just shook her head. The argument and the murder, it all seemed so pointless. Ruby could have just published under a different name and avoided Anne altogether. If she was motivated enough to write five books that quickly, she would have had a good chance at making it. But instead she just couldn’t accept the fact that Anne hated her stories and would always hate her style. It was all so sad and so…pointless. Two lives ruined because Anne was a vicious reviewer and Ruby needed validation from some third party about her writing. To think Noreen had almost gone to prison because of that…
“Thank you, Melissa.”
She stopped and looked up at him. She’d been so consumed by her thoughts of Ruby and Anne, she thought she’d misheard him.
He chuckled. “I said, thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Missy said. “I did it for Noreen.”
“You saved her life. Nobody believed her story, not even me. You saved me from doing something truly awful.”
All that was true, but Missy couldn’t bring herself to blame him. Looking at all the facts objectively, and knowing nothing about Ruby’s secret life of writing books under pen names, everybody else would have thought Noreen guilty also. There was no other conclusion to draw. But Missy had stubbornly clung to her belief, against all the evidence, that Noreen wasn’t a killer.
“Maybe next time I’ll actually listen to you.”
His joke lightened the moment perfectly. “You always have. You always made me feel special, Tyler.”
The words were out before she could stop them. But she was glad she’d said it. She had always felt that way.
Tyler stared deep into her eyes. “I also wanted to apo—”
“Noreen told me this morning,” she blurted out. “And you really don’t have to apologize. You and I had drifted apart by then, and you weren’t cheating on me, so you didn’t owe me anything.”
He hesitated. “That’s not what I was going to apologize about.”
“Oh.” Her heart swelled. She had no idea what he was about to say, but hoped it was good.
“When we drifted apart, it
was my fault. Totally my fault.”
She said nothing.
“I was just a boy. I thought I was a man, but I was just a boy. And when I went away to college, my feelings scared me.”
“Why?”
He looked away. “My whole life, I loved this town but I was supposed to go on and do big things. I had this idea that I was meant for something more, something bigger than all this. Talk about an ego, right? This town is a great place to live. But I was Tyler Brock. I kept hearing my Dad’s voice, over and over again. You’re Tyler Brock. You’re Tyler Brock. And it eventually stuck. I started believing I was supposed to go away and live this other life.”
“And you did.”
He nodded. “And I knew you didn’t want that. When we talked about the future, you were always looking at what was to come in Grove City. You wanted to live here. Work here. Be with your parents here. And I couldn’t handle that. It wasn’t part of the Tyler Brock Plan, whatever the hell that was. So I drifted…on purpose.”
She wanted to say so much, but most of all this: she would have gone with him anywhere.
Anywhere.
She knew that now, even if she hadn’t considered it then.
“I was head over heels in love with you, Melissa. And I was scared my feelings would keep me from doing all these big things. I know how lousy that sounds, but at nineteen years old, that’s what scared the hell out of me.”
So many emotions ran through her, but the most powerful one was love. By far.
“Like I said.” Tyler made a pained face. “I was just a dumb kid.”
She saw the hurt in his eyes and wanted to reach out, but she also saw the ring on his finger.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Tyler,” she said. “That was a long time ago, and like you said, we were only kids.”
When he looked at her again, his expression was inscrutable. She thought she saw hurt and longing in his eyes, but there was a smile on his lips too that suggested nostalgia…and maybe something else?
“My wife,” he said suddenly, “can get a little possessive. Sometimes it’s flattering and sometimes it goes a little too far.”
She wanted to tell him she’d be possessive too if he was her husband, but that would have sounded way too stalkerish.
“I totally understand. It does look strange when your ex-girlfriend calls you in the middle of the night.”
He laughed. “Yes.”
Missy didn’t want the moment to end. There was more, always more to ask him and never enough time. He also seemed like he didn’t want to be anywhere else. As he stood there, she knew he would answer every question she had. The last week had stripped him of any defenses he had left…
But she couldn’t ignore that ring on his finger. And the more she thought about it, it was kind of silly of her to need closure on something that had happened almost twenty years ago. It was time to move on. Like her Mom said, Tyler would either leave his wife or not leave his wife, but that was his decision to make and she could not play a part in that.
She looked past him and saw another surge of customers headed for the store, all carrying canvas bags. Noreen and Brett needed all the help they could get.
Missy looked back at Tyler. “I have to get back to the store.”
He said nothing, just stared at her. She half-expected him to reach for her hand.
“Take care, Melissa.”
“I’ll see you soon.” She headed back for the store.
“I hope not.”
She stopped in her tracks, puzzled by his words. Missy looked over her shoulder.
He smiled. “When you see me these days, it means somebody has died.”
She laughed and waved goodbye. When she got back into the store, she smiled at all the customers and their books, and at Noreen behind the counter, and at the thought of her life. She was still young, still had so many things to do, and she loved this town.
***********
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Diet Club Death is the third story in the Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mystery Series, but these books can be enjoyed in any order. However, if you absolutely prefer to read series in order, please start with Flea Market Fatal and then read Book Club Bloodshed.
Dieting can be deadly!
The curvy, voluptuous, big and beautiful Missy DeMeanor, scrapbooking savant, flea market flipper, and amateur sleuth has long struggled with her weight. Fed up with never getting any lasting results, Missy joins a mysterious, invite-only, hush-hush weight management group.
The first rule of Diet Club?
Nobody talks about Diet Club.
When Missy shows up to her first meeting, she has to laugh. The secretive group is anything but mysterious and lacks any semblance of order. Missy knows half the women (women only!) there, and the members all do their own thing and share results. Seems like a safe, welcoming environment, right?
Tell that to Karen Wise, one of Missy’s oldest friends from grade school, who turns up dead in the guest bathroom.
The police discover Karen was on a bizarre diet and are quick to determine the death was a result of natural causes. But Missy’s not so sure. She and Karen have been friends forever and she knows in her heart of hearts Karen would never have gone on such an extreme diet.
Determined to uncover the truth, Missy sets out to prove it was murder and bring the killer to justice. But the deeper she digs, the more secrets she discovers about her friend, Karen, the woman she thought she knew.
Diet Club Death is the third entry in the sweet, humorous, and very fun Missy DeMeanor cozy mystery series. It’s filled with plenty of twists, turns, laughs, and a little bit of romance.
DIET CLUB DEATH
Brianna Bates
Chapter One
M elissa, a.k.a. Missy, DeMeanor looked down at the scale in utter disbelief. In just three days, she’d managed to put all ten pounds she’d lost courtesy of exercising with all the insane fitness nuts at WiredFit.
Apparently her genes had this annoying habit of completely ignoring the good days and somehow had this superhuman ability to laser-focus on the bad days.
One day this week—just one day—she hadn’t thought about what she put into her mouth. Her breakfast and lunch had been good, and then she and Noreen had gone out to Hank’s last night for an impromptu Wing Night. Missy didn’t even eat any wings, but she’d ordered some fried food and instead of her typical wine (Hank’s wasn’t a place you could get wine), she’d had a couple beers, and voila, she’d woken up this morning to find herself back to square one, back to the drawing board, right back where she started over a year—no, two—no, three—years ago. Back to her heaviest in her life.
She stepped off the scale, waited ten seconds, blew out a big breath, then stepped back on.
The electronic scale beeped twice and actually returned a weight that was one pound heavier than just a moment ago.
“Great.” She jumped off the scale. “Now I put on weight just by existing.”
Her beautiful Irish setter, Cody, poked her long snoot into the bathroom and looked up at Missy with eternally loving eyes.
“Sorry, Cody. Having a bad day.”
Cody was just a dog, but Missy knew that just this dog understood exactly what she was going through. She pulled the door open and kneeled to give Cody a hug. The dog licked the side of her face.
Missy briefly contemplated stripping out of her underwear and stepping back onto the scale, but she decided discretion was the better part of valor and that she needed to quit while she was ahead. Or at least, quit before she got even further behind.
Cody padded over to Missy’s empty bed and sprung onto the mattress. Normally Missy nudged the dog off, but today she didn’t have the energy. That damned scale had robbed her of all her joie de vivre.
She unplugged her cell from her charger and dialed her best friend, Noreen.
“What time is it?” Noreen asked in a groggy voice. This woman could sleep
better than anybody Missy knew. They’d gotten home at the same time last night, but Missy had been up and at ‘em for an hour already. Noreen sounded like she’d just come out of a coma.
Missy checked the time on her phone. “Nor, it’s ten o’clock already.”
“Oh God. I have to go back to bed.”
Before Missy could get a word in, Noreen ended the call. She put on a t-shirt and shorts (shorts! Her arch nemesis) and carefully walked downstairs, her thighs screaming at her still from her workout routine at WiredFit. She’d been going there for three months and by now she would have expected to be used to the exercise, but no dice. Most of the time, she still experienced soreness the day after.
Outside, the air was surprisingly cool for a morning in June. Cody followed her into the garage, where two end tables of different designs were set up, waiting for her to work her magic. There was a mid-sizish flea market in Willingboro coming up, so if she wanted to move these pieces she really needed to get her act together. She sat in an old folding lawn chair silently and looked the end tables over, waiting for that inspiration to come. Instead of the muse, however, it was Noreen that called her first.
“Thanks for waking me up,” Noreen said.
Missy smiled. “What are friends for?”
“I hope it’s important. You know how much I love sleep.”
“It’s very important. It’s life and death.”
For a moment, Noreen grew serious. “Was there another murder?”
Missy laughed. Two murders had happened in the last year in their small Pennsylvania town, Grove City. Missy had helped the police solve the first and, with help from a local attorney and private eye, had solved the second.
“No, but there’s going to be.” Missy leaned her head back. “I’m about to murder the scale in my bathroom.”
“Missy, you don’t need to lose weight.”
Missy just shook her head. That was what everybody said to your face, when they were really thinking something else. No matter how many times she’d tried to explain how annoying that was to Noreen, her best friend just didn’t pick up on the hint.
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