“I want to get to know my niece.”
“You’ve said that. Maybe she doesn’t want to get to know you.”
“Have you asked her?”
“No.”
“Okay, then.”
“Fine.” I studied my ragged cuticles and wished for my bag of M & M’s. Here we were, thirty-years-old, listening to each other breathe over the phone like we did in high school. Not to mention our anything but mature verbal sparring.
Duane’s heavy sigh drifted across the airwaves and sent a shiver down my spine. His deep voice still melted me, despite my attempts at standing firm against his charm. “Mars Bar, I’m a changed man. Give me a chance.”
“Tomorrow night. Five o’clock.” Using my thigh muscles, which hated me for the effort, I pushed against the wall and got to my feet. “Don’t be late, and bring something chocolate.”
“I wouldn’t dream of being late.”
He was about ten years too late, but who’s counting? Why’d I cave beneath the pressure? I have no willpower. I marched into the kitchen and made a beeline for a new bag of candy-coated support.
“Well?” Mom stacked the last plate in the cabinet.
“He’ll be here for dinner tomorrow.”
“What are you making?”
“Me?” My hand with the red piece of candy paused on its journey to my lips. “It was your idea.”
“He isn’t coming to see me.”
“But I’m working.”
She hung the dishtowel over the oven rack. “I said I’d be in to help. Speaking of which, I’d better get to bed if I’ve got to get up with the birds. I’d like to get some more of those stuffed bunnies sewed, and I found a new pattern for International Time-Out Babies.”
I popped the candy in my mouth and crunched off the outer shell before letting the chocolate melt on my tongue. Life was spiraling out of control with the ferocity of a tornado. I’d have to head to the store tomorrow to stock up on my number one stress reliever. Especially with Duane back in town.
Lindsey leaned against the doorframe. “Why don’t you like Uncle Duane?”
“Who said I didn’t like him?”
“You did, in so many words.” She crossed one ankle over the other, her tanned legs stretched out in front of her. Had I ever looked so young, so thin, so sure of myself? If only time stood still.
“You know me.”
“Yeah, the icebox of River Valley.” Lindsey marched past me and grabbed a soda from the refrigerator. “That’s what everyone says. The kids at school are always asking why you don’t date. You’re pretty enough, and not that old.”
Gee, thanks. I opened my mouth to scold her for drinking a soda after seven o’clock. The doorbell rang, which curtailed my nagging. I glanced at Lindsey, who shrugged before she chugged from the can. I set the bag on the counter and went to answer the bell.
River Valley’s very own Barney Fife stood on the other side of our front door, one hand on his can of mace, the other poised to knock. He glanced over his shoulder. His five-foot-five frame, and all of one hundred and thirty pounds, quivered with suppressed energy. His nose twitched above a newly grown mustache, reminding me of an anxious rodent.
I grinned and opened the door. “Bruce, what brings you here? Is there someone following you?”
“What? No, no, you just can’t be too careful, you know.”
“In this town?” I held the door wider and waved him in. “When was the last time anything happened here?”
“Oh,” he dragged out the word. “We’re getting busy. What with Anderson’s sister disappearing and all. The man’s about out of his mind with worry. Is Lindsey here?”
“Yes.” I frowned. A pile of boulders settled in my stomach. “What’s this about, Bruce? This isn’t a casual visit, is it?”
“Afraid I’m here on business, Marsha. Can you call your daughter?”
“Lindsey!”
“I’m here.” She padded on bare feet to stand beside me. “Mr. Barnett?”
“Lindsey, did you deliver some things to Ms. Weiss today?”
“Yes, sir. About two or two-thirty.” She glanced at me for confirmation.
I nodded. “That sounds about right.”
Bruce whipped a small notebook from his pocket. “Did you happen to notice whether Ms. Weiss wore a necklace?”
“Yeah. A big, gaudy, red thing. She kept playing with it.”
“Well, it’s missing, and she says you were the last one she saw before noticing it was gone.”
Chapter Three
“Are you suggesting Lindsey had something to do with the disappearance of that necklace?”
Bruce stepped back, probably from the intensity of my glare. “A wallet disappeared from another house around the same time. I’m just asking whether Lindsey can verify where she was.”
Lindsey stepped beside me. “I stopped at my friend’s house after going to Ms. Weiss. Maybe around three?”
Barney’s pencil scratched across the notepad. “Were you carrying a backpack or a purse?”
“Now, wait just a minute!” I stepped forward. “Lindsey is a minor, Bruce. You can’t just waltz in here and make accusations.”
He held up a hand to stop me. “Don’t make me get a warrant. This is for Lindsey’s protection too. Ms. Weiss is fit to be tied. I’ve got to do something, and Lindsey was seen leaving the woman’s house.”
“Because she made a de-li-ve-ry.” I folded my arms. “She makes them all the time. Especially during the summer.”
Lindsey yanked open the closet door, banging me in the side with the door handle. That’ll leave a bruise. “Sorry. Here. I carried this with me. I take it everywhere.”
Bruce took the small green backpack purse covered with white polka dots and peered inside. “Don’t see anything. I don’t suppose you hid it somewhere?”
I grabbed the bag from him. “That’s enough. You’ve known Lindsey since she was born. Unless you can prove her guilty, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” I tossed the pack in the closet, closed the door, and held my left arm tightly to my aching side.
“Fine.” He pursed his lips. “But you’re speaking to an officer of the law here, Marsha.”
“Puh-leese!” I nodded toward the outside. “You may leave now, Officer.”
“No need to get pushy.” Bruce stepped onto the porch. His eyes glittered beneath the porch light. “By the way, did you know Duane’s back in town?”
I gave him a thin-lipped smile and slammed the door hard enough to rattle a couple of picture frames. What I really wanted to do was give him a shove down the steps, but since I didn’t relish going to jail, I thought it better to keep control.
“Am I in trouble?” Lindsey lunged at me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “I didn’t even go in her house. Ms. Weiss met me on the porch. She was wearing the necklace when I left. I swear.”
“I’ll get it straightened out.” I hoped. I patted her between her shoulder blades then held her at arm’s length so I could search her eyes. “We’ll get this cleared up. If you didn’t do anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about. Truth always wins out.”
“What’s going on? Who was at the door?” Mom scurried down the hall, pulling a fluorescent pink fuzzy bathrobe tight around her. Curlers sprang around her head like boils.
“Oh, Grandma!” Lindsey threw her sobbing self into my mother’s arms. “Ms. Weiss thinks I stole her necklace.”
“Nonsense. That woman’s off her rocker. Always has been. It’s because she puts too many toxins in her body. Can’t leave well enough alone, that one.”
I locked the door and headed to the kitchen. I needed some colorful stress reliever. I’d gain twenty pounds at this rate. Mom and Lindsey followed with my mother cooing soothing phrases to my distraught daughter.
“Well, Barney, I mean Bruce, was here asking questions.” Stretching on my tiptoes, I reached for my candy. Somehow, stashing them on a higher shelf didn’t do much to dissuade me from turning to chocolate during a time of cr
ises.
After tossing a handful of colored discs into my mouth, I turned to the other two generations of Calloway women. “We’ll just have to prove her innocent, won’t we? You know the gossip mill in this town. Another day or two, and they’ll have Lindsey robbing the Savings and Loan.”
Under the watchful eye of my mother at Crafts from Country Heaven, I stuffed bunnies and embroidered sleepy eyes on them with black thread until life existed in a fog. Did she really think we’d sell this many rabbits in floppy hats and frilly dresses? I gazed with longing at the quilt rack. I’d never finish the Oklahoma Star pattern stretched across it if my whip-slashing-boss of a parent kept me doing mundane chores like this. What was I thinking, moving back home? And staying this long? Oh well, rent was cheap, and I had help in raising Lindsey.
I sighed and grabbed another handful of cotton batting. Robert had made barely enough money to pay bills, much less provide me and his daughter with life insurance. Then, a dark road, a drunk driver, and I became a grown widowed daughter who’d moved back in with momma.
One glance at the counter and I groaned. Six sappy, three-foot rabbits stared at me in various shades of undress. The bell over the door jingled, and I bolted to my feet. Relief at any form of entertainment coursed through me as Lynn strolled inside.
I grinned and managed to take one step before tripping over the plastic bag of stuffing. In nightmarish slow motion, bunnies mobbed me, tumbling down on my head and threatening to suffocate me with their muslin cushiness.
Lynn rushed around the counter, giggling. “I don’t understand why your parents didn’t change your name to Grace years ago. Have you ever walked across the room without tripping or running into something?”
“When I do, I’ll let you know. Make yourself useless and help me pick these up.” I cast a glance over my shoulder to make sure Mom was still safely in the backroom.
Lynn lowered her voice and stooped to grasp a bunny. “Sharon is spreading rumors all over town that Lindsey stole her necklace. Now, the woman has got Harvey thinking your daughter took his wallet.”
“Lindsey wouldn’t steal.” She may be a teenager with a smart mouth, but I knew she wasn’t a thief.
“I know that, and you know that, but people are going to start wondering.” Lynn stood with an armful of stuffed animal. “Where do you want these?”
“The counter.” We lined up the muslin rodent soldiers. I straightened my shoulders and folded my arms. “Why didn’t you tell me Duane was the new high school coach?”
“And physical education teacher. Don’t forget that.” Lynn smiled then got serious. “You would’ve worried all day, and for what? So the guy’s back. That shouldn’t affect you too much. And I did warn you, kind of. I told you to guard your heart. It’s been fifteen years since you married Robert, and ten years since Duane was last in town. You’ve both moved on.” She peered closely at my face. “Right?”
I shrugged. “Of course. Yes. I’ve moved on. Definitely.”
“You haven’t! Oh, Marsha.” Lynn leaned against the counter, her expression filled with pity.
“Have you seen him?” I fell back into the chair. “He’s rocking hot. Looks better than he did before he left. Why do men do that? Age better than women? And, he’s coming to dinner tonight. Said he wants to get to know his niece.”
“Uh-huh.” Lynn’s gaze roamed over me. “What in the world are you wearing?”
“Overalls. Why?”
“Not to dinner, you’re not.”
“Why not? They’re comfortable, and I’m definitely not out to impress Duane.” Plus overalls hid all my bulges and imperfections.
“Keep trying to convince yourself of that, sweetie.” Lynn patted my shoulder. “I’ve got to go. Don’t stress too much over dinner. What are you cooking?”
“Chicken with Hollandaise Sauce.”
Lynn laughed. “Yep. Cooking to impress.”
The bell over the door jingled. Stephanie Jackson’s perfume reached us before she did. Tall, thin, immaculately dressed, every strand of dyed red hair in place, she breezed into the store like she owned it. “Good morning, ladies. I’d like to ask whether I can hang one of these fliers in the window? I’m hosting a yard sale to raise funds for the women’s ministry at River Valley Community Church. May I?” She turned before waiting on an answer.
I cringed at her exaggerated, overly-done southern drawl. Only those born and bred in the south could do it right. Imitators only sounded stupid.
“Sure. How’s the adoption going?” Please don’t rope me into anything.
Stephanie halted for the briefest moment before she continued, tape in hand, to the window. “Wonderfully. Should have enough money any day now. Mark and I have been saving every penny.”
“As evidenced from the new Tahoe parked outside.” I ducked my head before she spotted the smirk I was sure my lips curled into.
“Excuse me?” She turned and raised a finely tweezed eyebrow.
“Nothing. Just wishing you luck.”
Sharon pushed through the door, almost knocking into Stephanie. I gnawed the inside of my lip. If River Valley’s self-proclaimed elite were going to congregate in my store, I wished they’d buy something.
Sharon stomped to the counter. “What are you planning to do about my missing necklace?”
I twisted a finger in my ponytail and wished for my bag of M&M’s. There were a lot of things I could tell her to do with her jewelry, but none of them nice. “Why should I do anything?”
“Your daughter stole it. She came to my house, let herself in, and waltzed off with a precious heirloom. Just as pretty as you please.” Sharon’s puffy lips tried going into a straight line, instead resembling the result of a bee sting.
“There is no proof that Lindsey took anything. She said you were wearing the necklace when she delivered your dolls.” I really needed my stress reliever. Maybe I should take up smoking.
“Goodness.” Stephanie clasped her handful of papers to her chest. “I hope little Rosalea isn’t such a handful when she gets to be a teenager. Stealing. Imagine.” She waved. “Y’all be nice now, ya hear?”
She’d already named the baby she hoped to one day adopt? What if it fell through or was a boy?
Lynn stepped beside me. “Sharon, until Lindsey is proven guilty you shouldn’t be making waves.”
The woman leaned across the counter and poked me in the chest with her index finger. “Watch your kid. I want my necklace back, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get it.”
My queen-in-shining-armor emerged from the storeroom brandishing a broom. “You leave right now.” Mom’s eyes flashed. “Or, Lord help me, I’ll do something we’ll both regret.”
“Or what? You’ll rob me of the rest of my possessions? Kill me?”
Chapter Four
A cheap imitation of Westminster chimes rang through the house. I dropped the spoon, smearing hollandaise sauce down the front of me. Splatters dotted above the v-neck of my royal blue blouse, and down the rest of my shirt. A swipe with a dishtowel succeeded in smearing them in a wider swath. One glance at the clock showed that if the person at the door was Duane, he was half an hour early.
Drat the man! His voice rumbled a greeting to Mom. Her higher sing-song voice answered. I tossed the dishtowel into the sink, lowered the temperature on the oven, and snuck up the stairs to my room.
My trusty overalls beckoned from the floor. I whipped off my soiled clothes, tugged on a fuchsia-colored tank top, and stepped into my favorite denims. Who did I want to impress anyway?
“What are you doing?” Mom banged open my door.
I shrieked and whirled. “You scared me.”
“You have a guest you haven’t greeted yet. Plus, dinner isn’t finished, and what are you wearing? Couldn’t you put on a dress?”
“I had on something else and spilt food on it. This is more comfortable.”
“How are you going to catch a man dressed like a field hand? Do you have eyes in your head? A brain in your
skull? Have you taken a look at that walking picture downstairs?” Her eyes bulged from their sockets.
I stared at my mother like she’d just arrived from another planet. Did she not remember the anguish I went through when the so-called hot plate downstairs ditched me? “He invited himself. You agreed to let him come. Not me. You wear a dress.” I moved to step past her.
“You’re thirty-four years old. You’ve been widowed for ten of those years. Get moving, young lady.” Mom popped a dish towel at me. “You’re crimping my style living here.”
I stopped, caught a glimpse of the very serious look on my mother’s face, and giggled. “Are you seeing someone?”
Her chin lifted. “Maybe.”
I wiggled a finger at her and winked. “We’ll talk later.” I headed back to the kitchen. Just because Mom felt the need for a man in her life, didn’t mean I did. My life was full with Lindsey and the store. Right. And if I said it enough, I might actually believe it.
“Hey, Mars Bar.” Duane handed me a three-layer chocolate cake. “You said to bring chocolate.”
The man looked more delicious than the cake, if that was possible. Wearing jeans that appeared made for him, a navy, button up collared shirt, and those scuffed boots that made him walk with a swagger worthy of the old West. I jerked my gaze away and accepted the dessert. “Yes, thank you.”
Grateful for something to occupy my hands, I set the cake on the counter and turned back to preparing dinner. “Supper is almost done. Why don’t you go on in the other room and visit with Mom and Lindsey?”
Duane stood so close behind me his breath tickled the hair at the nape of my neck. “Marsha.”
My heart stuttered. The counter prevented me from moving to a more comfortable distance. If I could I see my face, I probably resembled an animal caught in a spotlight.
“Look at me, Marsha.”
“I don’t want to.” My whispered words filled the silent kitchen.
“Please take a walk with me after dinner.” His boots thudded against the worn linoleum on his way out.
I sagged against the counter and struggled to control my breathing. Be still my heart. An evening stroll with Duane Steele. I was doomed. I slid the steaming chicken dish from the oven and carried it into the dining room.
Deadly Neighbors (A River Valley Mystery) Page 2