Deadly Neighbors (A River Valley Mystery)

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Deadly Neighbors (A River Valley Mystery) Page 3

by Cynthia Hickey


  “That pip-squeak Barnett had the gall to accuse Lindsey of stealing the woman’s necklace.” Mom’s scarlet face shone beneath the light. I set dinner in the center of the table and rolled my eyes. From the looks of things, she was just getting started.

  “Now look at this face.” She pinched Lindsey’s chin between her fingers. “Does this look like a thief? Something is rotten in Mayberry, and Marsha and I intend to find out what.”

  I slapped a chicken breast on her plate. “What did you say?”

  “Careful. That’s hot.” She wiped sauce from her hand. “I heard you tell Lindsey yesterday that you’d get to the bottom of this. So, we’ll do it together. Sounds like fun.” Mom lifted her fork and stabbed her chicken.

  My mother might be unconventional, but her heart was in the right place. A smile tweaked the corner of Duane’s lips. My breath caught as I remembered his kisses. Those had been given by a teenager. Would the man do better? Make my knees weak and my head spin? I yanked my gaze away. Don’t go there, Marsha. My hands shook. I served his food slowly, careful not to splash or dump anything in his lap.

  Duane placed a hand over mine and whispered. “As delicious as dinner looks, I don’t think you want to be wearing it.” His hand, clutching a napkin, raised to a spot above my overalls. I glanced down. Hollandaise sauce nestled in the small amount of cleavage showing. If my face got any hotter, we’d have to call the fire department. The cad! Mentioning something so embarrassing.

  I slapped his hand and turned away to dab myself with a napkin. “A gentleman wouldn’t have said anything.” Much less attempt to clean such a personal area.

  “Now, Marsha—“

  “Let’s eat.” Mom glared at me, before bowing her head, chicken still speared on her fork.

  The meal passed with Mom filling Duane in on all the River Valley gossip. His hearty laugh rang across our small dining room, filling the house with warmth. My chicken tasted dry. The sauce bland. I shoved aside my plate. How could I be expected to eat with him sitting across from me? Staring at me with those bedroom eyes?

  Lindsey leaped to her feet. “I’m hanging with my friends okay? Be back at ten.” She snatched her plate from the table, disappeared into the kitchen, re-emerged empty-handed, then dashed out the door, grabbing her backpack on the way. I sighed and cleared my own plate. What I wouldn’t give for an ounce of her energy.

  Duane followed my lead, prepared to follow me into the kitchen. “Ready for that walk?”

  “A walk?” Mom’s eyebrows rose. “That’s a great idea. I’ll clear the table. You two go on.”

  Wonderful. I relinquished the dishes and, avoiding Duane’s gaze, headed out the front door. “Where do you want to go?”

  “Let’s just head down Main Street. Is that all right with you? I know you aren’t comfortable being alone with me.”

  That’s an understatement. “Duane, it . . .” Ahead of us, Lindsey darted around the corner of a neighbor’s house. “That’s fishy. I thought she said she was going to a friend’s house. Wonder what that girl’s up to. Come on.” I led Duane into the shadows lining the sidewalk. “Don’t let her see you.”

  “Why are we spying on your daughter?”

  We hunkered behind a Rhododendron bush. Duane’s cologne drifted on the slight summer evening breeze. A musky, manly scent. I wanted to bury my nose in his neck. “She isn’t acting herself. Lindsey doesn’t usually skulk around. With this suspicion hanging over her head, she needs to be careful.”

  “Could she have taken the necklace?”

  “No!” I bolted to my feet, getting my hair tangled in the bush. Fighting with the branches increased my irritation. “If you would have stuck around to get to know your niece, you’d know better than to ask that question.”

  “Let me.” Duane reached around me to work my tresses loose. “I had to go, Marsha. I needed to see what was outside this town.” He brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. “Do you want to know what I discovered? There’s nothing that compares to you.”

  Help me, Lord, the man stood too close. Goodness! I placed a hand to my chest in an effort to keep my heart from beating free of its cage. Was he trying to kill me?

  Lindsey reappeared and moved at a brisk pace about fifty yards ahead of us. I slapped Duane’s hands away and yanked my pony-tail free. “Come on. She’s getting away.”

  “Well, okay. But chasing after your daughter wasn’t what I had in mind when I mentioned taking a walk.”

  “Shhh.”

  “She can’t hear us.”

  Lindsey headed toward the Dairy Queen, but instead of joining the group of young people gathered at the picnic tables outside, she peered around the corner. I stopped Duane with a hand on his arm. Ten minutes later, Lindsey followed a young man who separated from the group.

  Duane reached up to smooth my hair. I shoved him away. “Stop touching me.”

  “Your hair is sticking up.”

  “Good grief.” I stepped away from him and quickened my pace in order not to lose sight of Lindsey.

  Duane’s boots clomped as he caught up with me. “We’re going to have to talk sooner or later, Marsha. You can’t keep pushing me away.”

  “It’ll have to be later. I’m busy.” I’d make sure it was way later. How would I tell this man I still harbored feelings for him? That being anywhere near him set my blood to boiling? What if I bared my soul, and he dosey-doed on my heart with his cowboy boots?

  The drone of a lawnmower reached our ears as we turned down a residential street, still following Lindsey, who chased after the boy. If my daughter ducked behind a bush, we copied. If she paused in her stalking, we imitated her movements. I glared at Duane when a snort of laughter escaped him.

  “Sorry. But if anyone sees us. . .On second thought, everyone in town will just say, there goes Marsha Calloway Steele again.”

  “Ha, ha. You’re a regular riot.”

  Lindsey turned. I ducked, and lunged, barreling into Duane, who once again stood too close. The movement took both of us to the ground. My breath left in a whoosh. Whether from being knocked out of me from the fall or from the close proximity of Duane’s lips, was a mystery.

  His mouth curved into a slow smile, and he twisted his hand in my ponytail and pulled me closer. His lips seared mine. The stars erupted into a blaze of fireworks, the moon brightened, the…

  “Mom?”

  Chapter Five

  Where was I? Who was that girl calling me mom? I stared, uncomprehending into a strange man’s eyes. His arms tightened around me, melding my body with every inch of his. Goodness!

  “Mom!”

  “Huh?” Oh, yeah. That’s my daughter, and the man beneath me was Duane Steele; the man I refused to give the time of day to. I shoved off him and punched his chest.

  “Hey!” He laughed. The sound rang through the approaching dusk.

  Lindsey put fists on her hips. “What are the two of you doing making out on the sidewalk? How embarrassing! If Grandma saw you. . .”

  “Uh?” I got to my feet and brushed off the seat of my overalls.

  “Were you following me?” Lindsey threw her hands in the air. “I cannot believe this! You were following me. Why?”

  “Um.” When did I grow speechless? I couldn’t form a cohesive sentence.

  Duane placed a hand on my daughter’s shoulder. “Your mother is worried about you. She wants to make sure people don’t have more reason to speculate about your whereabouts.”

  Ooh, good save, Duane.

  “People are talking about me?” Lindsey’s shoulders slumped. Her chin quivered. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.” She turned and shuffled away.

  “Lindsey, wait.” My heart ached for my baby. “Come home with me. We’ll watch a chick flick and eat popcorn.”

  “Let her go. She’ll be all right.” Duane peered into my face. “Want to go for an ice cream?”

  An ice cream with him would be safe, right? “Okay.”

  Duane grabbe
d my hand, sending bolts of electricity up my arm and into my numb brain, waking me. I tried to pull away, only to have him tighten his grip. Resigned, I sighed. “Let’s head that way for a minute.” I motioned my head to the right. “I want to walk past Sharon Weiss’s house.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s the way Lindsey headed. And the boy she was following.”

  “You aren’t a very exciting date.”

  “We aren’t on a date.” Did he think we were on a date? Lord, help me.

  Sharon’s house came into view, curtains pulled tight on all the windows except a panel in the front door. A small square of amber light spilled onto the front porch. Her neighbor, Harvey Miller, who said his wallet had been taken around the same time as Sharon’s necklace, peeked through the sheers of his front window. He let the drapes fall as we strolled by.

  “Stop!” A young woman streaked past us, dragged by three Labrador retrievers in various colors. Duane dropped my hand and lunged forward to grab the dogs’ leashes and bring them to a halt.

  “Thank you.” The woman doubled-over, balancing her hands on her knees. “These three always give me a run. I think I need to charge more for their care.” She straightened and took back the reins. “I’m Marilyn Olsen, the dog walker of River Valley. At least I think I’m the only one with those particular services for hire.” White teeth flashed in a tanish orange face. “I’m saving to get to Hollywood. Do you have any dogs that need walking?”

  “Sorry, I don’t. I’m Duane, and this is Marsha.” He looped the leashes over her wrist.

  “You could walk him.” I motioned my chin at Duane.

  “I don’t walk people.” The girl obviously didn’t know sarcasm. Her gaze traveled from Duane’s boots to his head. She cocked a hip and batted her eyelashes. “Of course I might make an exception for you.” The dogs lurched ahead. “Nice to meet you.” Marilyn tossed a wave over her shoulder and before we knew it the wanna-be starlet with a fake tan disappeared around a corner.

  “She even looks like a Marilyn,” I said. “The bleached hair, red lipstick, and how many coats of mascara do you think she was wearing?”

  “I have no idea. Did she have on mascara?” Duane reclaimed my hand. “Now, can we have that ice cream?”

  “In a minute.” I slid free and shot him a look that could kill. What had he been looking at if not her face? Her silicon chest? Would’ve been hard to miss. Even for a blind man. “Look at this street. What do you see?”

  Duane sighed. “It looks like any residential street in an Arkansas country town. Or any small town for that matter. Trees line both sides. Homes with character; not cookie cutter houses. Children playing by the light of the porch. Old people sitting in rockers. It’s the same scene I’ve seen a million times.”

  “Exactly.” I let my gaze roam up and down the street. “The same thing every day. Morning, noon, and evening. Now, if someone were to break into someone’s house during the day, there would be at least two or more witnesses to the event.”

  “Okay.” Duane nodded.

  “If Lindsey went into Sharon’s house. . .there.” I pointed. “Then next door to Harvey’s,” my finger showed the path. “Someone would have seen her. A pizza doesn’t get delivered in this town without the neighbors knowing what the toppings are.”

  “Why don’t you let the police handle this?” Duane grabbed my elbow and turned me in the direction he’d been working toward all evening. “They’ll prove Lindsey innocent and life will go on. The thief, if there is one, is most likely someone passing through.”

  “You know how our police are. Don’t you remember Halloween nights in high school? The officers took the eggs from the boys and gave them to us girls. They aren’t exactly on top of things. And what do you mean if there is one? You don’t think we have a thief?” I planted fists on my hips. “If not, then what are people accusing Lindsey of doing?”

  “Maybe they just misplaced those things.” Duane dragged me along with him until we stood in front of the town’s local hangout: The River Valley Dairy Queen. He held the door open and ushered me inside.

  After ordering both of us a chocolate peanut covered piece of heaven, Duane ushered me to a far corner booth. He slid in next to me instead of across. My breath hitched, and I pressed against the wall.

  “Now that I’ve got you cornered, you have no choice but to listen to what I have to say.” Duane turned to face me.

  Uh oh.

  “I know you can’t stand the sight of me. . .”

  That wasn’t exactly true. With his square jaw, sleepy eyes, dark hair, and eye color no man could invent, Duane was some of the best eye candy around. And that hint of a five o’clock shadow made a woman want to. . . Well, I couldn’t go there. Not and maintain my reputation as ice queen, anyway.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  What did I miss? “Um, sorry?” I reached for the ice cream the teenager who’d taken our order brought.

  Duane ran his hands through his hair and slumped against the back of the vinyl booth. “I’m baring my soul, and you aren’t listening?”

  Great. Now, I had guilt. “Duane, this is very difficult—.” I put a hand on his arm, and froze as a commotion outside the window distracted me.

  The young man my daughter seemed so fixated on darted past the building. A few moments later, Lindsey slid past, keeping her back against the wall. She reached the corner, paused, then dashed across the parking lot. Behind her, dressed in black, sneaked Sharon Weiss.

  “This evening gets more bizarre by the minute.” Duane straightened. “I change my mind. No one can say being on a date with you is boring.”

  “We aren’t on a date.” I shoved against him. “Let’s go. They’re getting away.”

  “You know, Marsha, they have medication for what ails you.” He slid from the booth and grasped my hand.

  We shoved past a couple entering the burger shop and murmured apologies. The parking lot stood empty. I cast glances to my left and right, then tugged to pull Duane in the direction the sneaky threesome had run. “There.” Ahead, I made out the shadowy form of Sharon.

  Duane and I sprinted in her direction. The woman yelled and leaped behind a shrub. Someone screamed. We increased our speed and burst upon Sharon holding my daughter’s arm in a death grip. With her free hand, she yanked at Lindsey’s backpack.

  “I don’t have it!” Lindsey pulled free, almost knocking Sharon off her feet.

  “It’s an heirloom.” Sharon grabbed again, her sculptured nails raking my daughter’s face.

  Lindsey cupped her cheek.

  “Hey!” I bolted forward.

  “That’s enough.” Duane stepped between us. “Ms. Weiss, would you please explain what is going on?”

  Sharon took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Seeing as how things in peaceful River Valley have taken to disappearing, and this girl is wandering around after dark, I thought I would do the responsible thing and follow her. Someone needs to protect the citizens of this town.”

  “That is the police’s responsibility.” I jerked my arm free of Duane’s grip. “Besides, look around you. It’s summer time, Sharon. Lots of young people are outside after dark.”

  “The police are doing a bang-up job so far.” Sharon crossed her arms.

  Lindsey pulled her hand away and glanced at her palm. I craned my neck, relieved not to see blood. “I didn’t take your necklace, Ms. Weiss. You were wearing it when I delivered the dolls. I never saw Mr. Miller, so I didn’t take his wallet.” Lindsey’s eyes glittered beneath the street lamp. “I’m heading to a friend’s house. There’s no harm in that, is there?”

  What friend was she going to see? She’d roamed the two main streets of town and most of the neighboring residential area. I opened my mouth, then clamped it shut. Better to let things play out without my interference.

  “Go home, Sharon.” Duane took my arm with one hand and Lindsey’s with the other.

  “Yeah,” I jutted my chin fo
rward. “Before I press assault charges against you.”

  “Real mature, Marsha.” Sharon tossed her head. “Y’all haven’t seen the last of me.”

  Chapter Six

  The sounds in my head whirred to the buzz of the sewing machine. Voices spun, overlapping, tumbling, and weaving like tangle thread. Duane’s low rumble begged to be heard over Sharon’s shrieking. Lindsey’s teenage voice rose in confusion. I couldn’t make sense of any of the voices filtering through my mind.

  As I sewed, the needle flashed in and out of the flowered fabric before snapping in two. I sighed and pushed back from my chair. “Mom, I’ll finish these seat cushions later. I’ve got to go and clear my head.”

  “How can you clear something that’s already empty?” Her giggle reached me from the storeroom.

  “Everyone’s a comedian.” Outside, I turned right and headed toward Sharon Weiss’s street. The way she accosted my child the night before still irked me. Maybe the two of us could sit down like civilized women and discuss things. I glanced at my watch. Nine A.M. Even a woman of leisure such as Sharon should be up by now.

  The drone of a lawnmower drew my attention. Melvin Brown, a familiar sight behind any landscaping tool on most of the town’s properties, mowed the lawn next door to Sharon’s. He tipped his grungy baseball hat in my direction. Trying to be neighborly, I stooped to pick up Sharon’s unclaimed newspaper before heading up the steps to her front door.

  Westminster chimes rang when I pressed the doorbell. After a few seconds, I cupped my hands around my eyes and peered through the etched beveled glass. The house appeared dark. No human form approached. The shadow of a cat streaked past on highly polished wooden floors.

  I tried the door handle. It swung open at my touch. I glanced over my shoulder.

  Melvin shut off the mower and tipped his hat again. “I ain’t seen her all morning. Normally, she’s outside wearing that slinky housecoat and getting her paper. All dolled up like some movie star,” he called.

 

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