“A rat?” He drew back like it would bite him.
What a baby! I pushed the box into his chest. Joe put his hands up. So much for my not touching it anymore. “Didn’t Aunt Eunice tell you what had been delivered?”
Exaggerating my movements, I stomped to where we kept our plastic garbage bags, ripped one from the roll, dropped the disgusting rat’s coffin inside, then handed it to my cousin. “Better?” And him a big cop with a gun.
Joe grimaced and took the bag. “Did you question the boy? What did he look like?”
“Question him? Why? He delivered a package. There wasn’t a reason to suspect anything. He was dark haired, skinny; he looked like any other little boy.” I folded my arms and grinned, thoroughly enjoying my cousin’s discomfort. He grabbed a dish towel and wiped perspiration from his forehead.
“Did you try chasing him down?”
“No, I tried hiding the rat from my aunt.” Wasn’t he listening?
“Is there anyone who would gain from threatening you?”
He had to be kidding. I mentally counted off the names. “Seven that I can think of. All names in Mae Belle’s book. All people I’ve questioned. Most of whom have threatened me in one way or another and told me to keep my nose out of things. Now are you going to take me seriously?”
“Yes, he is. A dead rat is not to be taken lightly.” Aunt Eunice shoved against Joe’s back. “Take that disgusting thing out back. You can finish questioning Summer outside.”
“You should have seen the way Joe held that bagged rat away from him, using just his fingertips. Hilarious.” Aunt Eunice set a plate of spaghetti in front of Uncle Roy. I smiled, thinking of how she’d conveniently forgotten her own show of hysterics upon sight of the rodent.
Uncle Roy dumped Parmesan cheese on his noodles. “I don’t like the direction this is heading, Summer. You’d think you would have learned from the last two escapades you had.”
By escapades, I assumed he meant mysteries. “I promised Mae Belle I’d find out who killed her. I plan on keeping that promise. If you’re scared, go visit Aunt Claudia.”
Uncle Roy speared a meatball with unnecessary force. “Who said anything about being scared? And don’t think you can just run me out of my own house.” His hand paused. “Okay, it’s your house, but I’ve lived here for years. I figure I can call it my house if I want.”
The pasta made it to his mouth. He chewed, his gaze settled on me. “I just don’t want anything to happen to my little girl. You can’t be lucky forever.”
“That’s what people keep telling me.” I twirled a forkful of pasta. “But I figure God overrules any amount of luck. Although it would be nice if someone came along to help. Someone I could brainstorm with. Aunt Eunice is afraid of getting arrested again, and April is too occupied with Joe. Plus, she’s a sissy. Ethan’s busy with the high school, and I really need to start planning my wedding.”
Listing the reasons no one could be my sidekick depressed me. The carnival mystery had been so much more fun with Ethan going on stakeouts with me. Then spending the night in jail with Aunt Eunice had been. . .interesting. Kind of. At least different. I shrugged and took a bite of spaghetti.
“Don’t forget we’re getting low on products at the store.” Aunt Eunice swirled her noodles in the sauce.
“Thanks for reminding me.” I let my fork clatter to the plate.
Uncle Roy leaned across and put a hand over mine. “Sweetie, you don’t have to do this. Joe will find Mae Belle’s killer. You just focus on getting married.”
“I promised.”
He straightened. “Don’t get me wrong, but Mae Belle isn’t around to collect.”
“Let your ‘yes,’ be ‘yes’ and your ‘no,’ ‘no.’ Anything else is of the devil. Isn’t that what the Bible says?”
Uncle Roy opened his mouth to respond and closed it instead. He pursed his lips then said, “Can’t argue with that. Eunice, help the girl on her quest.”
The ringing of the doorbell, and Truly’s shrill barking, saved her from answering. Uncle Roy pushed back his chair. “I’ll get it. We ain’t expecting anyone, are we?”
He returned in seconds, his face pale.
“Y’all need to come look. Seems someone has left Summer another gift.”
We rose and followed him to the front porch. My heart lodged in my throat. What would it be now? A finger, another rat, a severed head? I shook my head to stop my overactive imagination and glanced at my feet.
In a wire animal carrier, curled into a ball, slept a sleek black-and-white kitten. A note taped to the front read, “To go along with the rat.”
“At least the cat ain’t dead.” Uncle Roy lifted the cage. “What are we going to do with this little thing? Truly won’t be very happy to have a feline as company.”
“She’ll get used to it.” My heart fell back into place at the sight of the sleeping kitten. But why would someone leave a dead rat, then a live cat? The three of us went back inside, taking the cage with us. Now, who did I know who had cats? Just about every neighbor within a five-mile radius.
We hadn’t made it to the kitchen before the doorbell rang again. “I’ll get it!” I darted toward the door and peered out the window. Uh-oh. Ethan stood outside, arms crossed. He wasn’t smiling.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Hi, Ethan.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. He lifted me off my feet. After putting me down, he took my hand and led me to the porch swing.
Smooth-talking man. He let me get comfortable before he spoke. “Joe called me this afternoon. Seems you got an interesting gift.”
“Two, actually. One’s in the house.”
“You have another dead rat inside?” He stiffened.
I giggled. “No, a cute little tuxedo kitten. The note said he went with the rat, but that’s obviously a joke.”
“I want you to stop now.” Ethan turned me to face him. “I’ve tried to be supportive. I know how much you enjoy doing this, but. . .”
“What? You won’t marry me?” My throat clogged. My greatest fear was about to come true.
“Nothing could make me not marry you. Don’t you know me better than that?”
“Aunt Eunice told me I needed to get it out of my system before our wedding.”
“That would be nice.” He ran a hand through his hair. “What am I saying? It won’t make any difference. Now or then. The fact is—this is getting too dangerous.”
He groaned and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He sighed and stared at me. “You’re going to be the death of me, Summer. I love you, very much. The thought of losing you. . .almost stops my heart, it’s so intense.”
God hadn’t created a more special man. And he was all mine. I clasped a hand to my chest to hold my heart inside. “Help me. You enjoyed it during the fair. That was only a month ago. Surely the excitement hasn’t worn off yet.” I smoothed the strands sticking up on his head. Had it really been such a short amount of time? Once Ethan had mentioned getting married in the spring, I’d phoned my cousin right away.
He stilled my hands. “I can’t. Not with school and coaching the football team. Unless you wait until the weekends to follow your leads. I’m also going to talk with Mason White. See why he followed you today.”
“You believe me?”
“We’ll wait and see what he says. He’s having a party Friday night, and surprisingly we’re invited.” Ethan pulled an envelope from the pocket of his jeans and handed it to me. It was an embossed invitation. “This must be your doing.”
“One of those murder-mystery nights?” I’d always wanted to go to one of those. “Who am I going to be?”
“We’re going as Dan and Pat Sheraton. A well-to-do elderly couple. Dress the part, and try to have fun.” He stood and bent to kiss me. “I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you. Please, be careful.”
“I love you.” My mind raced as he strolled to his truck, then turned to wave. A mystery party would be the perfect opportunity to snoop. It’d be
expected, right? I blew Ethan a kiss and went inside. Why would Mason invite us to his party? Ethan didn’t know him, beyond a remote acquaintance, and all I’d succeeded in doing was to annoy the man.
I went in search of my new pet. Aunt Eunice had opened the kitty carrier, and I found the little ball of fluff sleeping in the trash can next to the dryer. He’d made his bed among the dryer sheets and lint. “Okay, little guy. Your name is going to be Trashcan.”
I lifted him, noting the bell hanging from his collar didn’t jingle. I set the kitten on the washing machine and unhooked the bell. Stuffed inside was a tiny, rolled slip of paper.
A rat in chocolate and a kitten with a bell that doesn’t work.
That’s it? It didn’t make any sense. I leaned against the washing machine and read it again. What did the sender want to tell me? Nothing or just part of the game?
I carried the note to the kitchen where Aunt Eunice finished the last of the dishes. “Here. Read this.”
She dried her hands on her apron. “This is silly. What’s it got to do with anything?”
I shrugged. “Someone is having a lot of fun at my expense.”
“Who do we know who has a cat?”
“Everyone?”
“Okay, wisecracker.” Still clutching the paper, Aunt Eunice sat in the closest chair. “A rat in chocolate and a kitten with a bell that doesn’t work. What’s next, a dog without a bark?” She snorted.
“Very funny.” I snatched the note from her hand. “Ethan and I are going to a party at Mason White’s on Friday. I’m going to do some snooping that doesn’t have anything to do with the mystery game Mason’s hosting.”
“You think he sent the note?”
“I don’t know. But he has threatened me, he likes to play games, and this will be the perfect opportunity.”
“Should we call Joe? Now that we’ve probably smudged any fingerprints that might have been on it.”
Why didn’t I think of those things? I was the detective. “I’ll call him right now and tell him what it says.” I grabbed the wall phone and stretched the cord across the kitchen until I could sit across from my aunt. Why wouldn’t they let me put a cordless phone in this room?
“Hey, Joe.”
“Yep. What did you do now?”
“What makes you think I did anything?” Really.
“Uh-huh.”
“You’re just full of conversation, aren’t you? I was petting Trashcan, the new kitten. . .”
“When did you get a kitten?”
“Someone dropped it off on our porch. Anyway. . .”
“What do you mean ‘dropped it off ’?”
I sighed. “I’m trying to tell you. If you’d stop interrupting me. Anyway, I noticed his bell didn’t ring. So, I investigated. There was a note inside where that little dinger thing is supposed to be.” I read him the note. “What do you think it means?”
“Who else have you shown it to?”
“Aunt Eunice. We both touched it. Do you want it, since our fingerprints are all over it?”
“Not tonight. Hang on to it, and give it to me tomorrow.” His sigh vibrated over the airwaves. “I don’t know what it means. Maybe nothing. Maybe it’s a clue, and we’re missing something. What kind of paper is it written on?”
“It looks like someone tore off a corner of a sheet of copy paper and printed, really small, with a pencil. Whoever wrote it has good handwriting. Does that mean it’s from a woman?” Clue number one.
“Not necessarily. Plenty of men have excellent penmanship.”
There was a long pause. “Hello?” Joe was so quiet I thought he’d hung up. “Anyone there?”
“Just thinking. I don’t like this, cousin. Not a bit. Back off and be careful.” Click.
Clue shot down like the Red Baron’s plane. I decided to head back to A Dream Wedding tomorrow and see whether or not I could find something with Sherry’s handwriting. Or Renee Richards’s. Regardless of what Joe thought, I’d start with my female suspects.
After a quick game of hide–and-seek with Truly, I spent the rest of the evening trying to make my print very tiny. When I’d finished, the words, minus my curly letters, could’ve been written by anyone. I consoled myself with the fact not everyone had as expressive writing as I did.
The dark windows of A Dream Wedding set a melancholy mood as I entered through the front door. I said a prayer of thanks that no crime-scene tape circled the store. It wasn’t until I stepped about ten paces in that I realized the store should have been locked up tight.
“Hello?” I flicked on the light switch. “Anybody here?” I dug through my purse and pulled out my cell phone, clutching it like a weapon. A rustling noise from the back lured me like a sweet tooth after a lollipop. I flipped light switches as I passed.
Sherry’s broad behind greeted me from a storage closet. She shrieked when I called her name and fell forward. Brooms and mops crashed to the floor with her.
“What are you doing here?” She struggled to her feet.
“I could ask you the same question.” I dropped my phone back in its case. “Keeping the business going without Mae Belle?”
“No.” She straightened her blouse. “I left something, and I’ve come back to get it.”
“You have a key?”
“Yes. I often worked longer hours than she did. Mae Belle trusted me.” Sherry pushed past me and closed the closet door. What could she have lost in a supply closet? I’d be back at another time to search more thoroughly.
“I’m just here to get the notes Mae Belle took for my wedding. I’ll be finished in a jiffy.” My spine tingled as I marched away from her, expecting at any moment to have something sticking out of my back.
The pink and white rug that once spread beneath the desk had been removed. Other than black powder over every available surface, the room looked the way it had when I’d found Mae Belle. I set my purse on the cleanest corner of the desk and opened the closest file drawer. Not much in there. I grabbed the handful of files and riffled through them. There had to be something here with handwriting that didn’t belong to my cousin.
One of those lethal, pointy note holders held many slips of messages. I grabbed them, pricking my finger in the process. Sherry’s chicken scratch could in no way match the note attached around Trashcan’s neck. I continued my search.
“What are you doing?” Sherry’s screech sent me flying back in my chair.
“I told you. Looking for my file.” My heart thudded. She reminded me of an outraged, out-of-shape Amazon warrior. “What are you looking for? Maybe I’ll find it.”
She grabbed the messages from my hand. “Mae Belle hadn’t had time to make you a file yet.” She stalked to the cabinet, yanked the files from the desk, and tossed them back in the drawer. “Any notes she took would be here.” I scooted back as quickly as possible to avoid being rammed in the gut by the desk drawer. Sherry tossed a fluorescent yellow folder in front of me. “There you go. Next time, ask.”
When I stepped outside into the late September sunshine, I realized Sherry hadn’t answered my question.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Aunt Eunice arrived at work to the sight of me with pastel-colored papers spread across the marble slab in the back room. Most of the notes had nothing to do with my wedding. The colors were wrong, the food something I’d never choose, and who wanted carnations in their wedding bouquet? I fought the urge to swipe everything to the floor. No wonder Mae Belle left a long line of disgruntled customers. She didn’t pay attention to what they wanted.
“What’s up?” Aunt Eunice lifted a page.
“These are supposed to be Mae Belle’s notes for my wedding. Nothing’s right.”
I scooped the papers back in a pile. Good thing I’d kept my own set of notes in my tote bag. My glance fell on a circled letter within the name of a flower. Then another in the description of a wedding dress. A word within the ingredients of a cake. I fanned through the sheets. “Look at these words.”
�
��What do you think it means?”
“I think Mae Belle got my notes wrong on purpose. Get me a pencil.”
I spread the pages in a line, wishing I’d kept them in order. I scribbled the circled letters and words, holding my breath. If my hunch proved true, the puzzle Mae Belle left behind might show the identity of her killer. I stared at the confusing jargon in front of me. This could take forever. Circled words. Circled letters. I hated word games.
“Aunt Eunice, can you help me?”
“Do you realize how many messages we could make with this list?”
“That’s why I need your help.” I tossed the pencil down. “Two heads are better than one.”
“Fine.” She picked up the pencil. “Let’s count the letters. How many As are there?”
“One.”
“Great. Bs?” And so on we went until I grew more confused than ever.
“There are six Ss. Let’s assume the message begins with your name. Also, she’s given us some words to work with— something, cushions, sofa, and happen.”
“Some of the Ss you asked for are in those words.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Aunt Eunice chewed the end of the
pencil. Whenever I tried to volunteer an idea, she shushed me. Two hours later, with me bored out of my mind, she grinned. “Solved it.”
She handed the message to me.
Summer, if something should happen to me, look in the cushions of my red and white sofa. M.B.
I frowned. “How do you know this is what it says?”
“It makes sense. Look at the letters that are left after you use the words. There are only so many possibilities. You just try them all until you hit on something. And Mae Belle did have a red and white sofa.”
Horror. We’d donated it after cleaning out her apartment. I grabbed my purse. “Let’s go. Hopefully, Secondhand Bart still has that monstrosity in his store.”
We hung out a Be Back Soon sign and hopped in the car.
Each mile nearer to the resale shop brought me that much closer to solving Mae Belle’s murder. She wouldn’t have taken the time to leave me a message if it weren’t to tell me something important. Worse, she probably suspected something might happen to her and needed to tell someone about it in secret. Goose pimples prickled my flesh.
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