Cozy Mysteries Women Sleuths Series: Box Set III: Books 9-12

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Cozy Mysteries Women Sleuths Series: Box Set III: Books 9-12 Page 11

by Hope Callaghan


  Loretta lifted her gaze and stared at the surveillance camera Uncle Ichabod had installed on the front of the office building. It pointed directly at the dumpster.

  She dropped the lid on the dumpster and marched into the house. “Uncle Ichabod,” she called out as she made her way through the kitchen.

  “In here Loretta.” She found Uncle Ichabod sitting on the sofa, remote in hand, watching television. “Did you ever find Barkley? I was gonna give you five more minutes before I tracked you down and tried to help.”

  “Yeah.” He was waiting on the porch steps when Savannah and I got back a few minutes ago, smelling like he had been inside the trash dumpster.”

  Uncle Ichabod dropped the remote on the couch and stared at Loretta. “You don’t say. There’s no way he could’ve gotten in there himself.”

  “I thought the same thing. Do you think after I help Lacy make her dinner you and I could head over to the clubhouse to check out your surveillance footage for the last couple of days? We may be able to catch whoever is vandalizing the property on camera and figure out who is doing this to us.”

  Uncle Ichabod had set up a small surveillance command in a secret room located in the corner of the clubhouse. No one knew of its existence except for Loretta, Lacy and Savannah.

  “Absolutely. I reckon’ we should make ourselves scarce for Lacy’s big dinner date.”

  “Yep.” Loretta headed to the bathroom. She had just enough time to shower, sort through her emails and pay a few bills before Lacy arrived back home with the items on Loretta’s list.

  Loretta had just finished work when she spotted Lacy’s truck pull in behind her van. Loretta ran outside to help. She pulled two grocery sacks from the truck’s passenger side floor and carried them to the house, following Lacy inside. “You bought enough food to feed an army. Maybe Uncle Ichabod and I should join you for dinner,” she teased.

  “Are you crazy?” Lacy whirled around so fast she almost lost her grip on the grocery bags.

  Loretta grinned. “I’m kidding. Uncle Ichabod and I are gonna head over to the clubhouse to study surveillance video. Barkley has been missing all day and showed up on the back steps a short time ago smelling to high heaven.”

  She went on. “I think someone may have stuck the poor pooch inside the dumpster and somehow he managed to crawl out.”

  “People are disgusting.” Lacy wrinkled her nose. “I’m not a huge lover of the four legged critters but even I would never hurt Barkley or any other animal. If you find out someone did stick him inside there, you ought to press charges.”

  “I may do that.” The more Loretta thought about it, the angrier she became. What was wrong with people? Even if someone were bent on vandalizing property, what kind of sick person would take it so far as to possibly injure a poor, helpless creature? Loretta’s cheeks burned at the thought and she vowed to figure who was targeting not only them but also Barkley.

  Lacy placed the contents of the grocery sacks on the kitchen counter while Loretta slipped her apron over her head and tied the back.

  Lacy set the box of pasta next to the spaghetti sauce and rolled up her sleeves. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “You may want to wear an apron,” Loretta suggested.

  “Why?” Lacy stared at her blankly.

  “Because if you splatter spaghetti sauce on your clothes, it will stain and those stains are hard to get out,” her sister patiently explained.

  “I’m not doing the cooking. You are. I’m here to observe, to learn.”

  Loretta pursed her lips as she reached behind her and grabbed an apron off the hook. She handed it to her sister. “No. You’re not. I’m going to supervise. You will do the cooking…that way you can honestly tell Colton you made the meal with your own two hands.”

  “But…”

  “Not buts. Either you do the work or I walk out of this kitchen and you can figure this out on your own.”

  Lacy glared at her sister as she dropped the apron over her head and tied the back. “What if I get all hot and sweaty?” she griped.

  Loretta ignored Lacy’s protests as she assembled the dishes needed and arranged the ingredients along the back of the counter.

  After the initial protests, Lacy settled down and Loretta could’ve sworn her sister actually appeared to enjoy herself.

  They continued working until – finally – they popped two large casserole dishes in the oven and Loretta turned the timer on.

  Lacy turned the kitchen faucet on and began washing her hands. “I better skedaddle if I want to be ready before Colton arrives.”

  Loretta stuck her arm out. “Oh no, sister. First, we clean up this mess.”

  Lacy started to mumble but stopped when Loretta gave her “the look.” Working together, it didn’t take the two of them long to wash the dishes, put away the ingredients and sweep the floor.

  Uncle Ichabod shuffled into the kitchen and sniffed the air appreciatively as Loretta placed the last mixing spoon in the drawer. “Something smells mighty tasty ‘round here.”

  “It sure does and you’re in luck. We had enough ingredients on hand to make a double batch of baked cream cheese spaghetti. There’s one for Lacy and her beau and one for us to take to the clubhouse later.”

  Loretta finally allowed her sister, who had worked herself into a pre-date tizzy, to head to the bathroom to get ready for her big date while she arranged several garlic bread knots on a cookie sheet and popped them into the oven.

  “Whew! I’ve never seen Lacy so worked up over a man in my life,” Uncle Ichabod reached inside the cupboard for a glass and headed to the fridge.

  “You haven’t been around her long enough. She’s just warming up. If this romance continues, she’ll drive us all crazy, including poor Colton. Trust me.”

  Loretta watched as Uncle Ichabod reached inside the fridge, pulled out the carton of milk, carried it to the counter and unscrewed the cap. “Lacy drinks right from the milk jug.” She pointed to the container of milk.

  “Yeah.” Uncle Ichabod filled his empty glass and nodded. “Caught her a time or two. Couple germs ain’t gonna kill an old codger like me.”

  He replaced the cap, placed the carton back in the fridge and carried his glass of milk to the kitchen table. “I called the Fire Chief, Otis Chalmers, and told him what Bobby Tackett said. He didn’t seem much interested so I called Officer Purvis down at the sheriff’s department and he wasn’t too interested, either.”

  “Sheesh! What do we have to have around here to start an investigation…a death?”

  “Bite your tongue.” Uncle Ichabod reached for the basket of fruit in the center of table and plucked out a banana. “We may have to catch the perp on our own. Set a trap, so to speak.”

  “Take matters into our own hands,” Loretta said. “Like modern day vigilantes, out for justice,” she joked.

  Lacy breezed in a short time later, her bright pink stiletto heels clattering on the kitchen linoleum. She shimmied across the floor in her skin tight, low cut, super short…at least in Loretta’s opinion…leather dress. “You look like you’re going…”

  “To stand on the street corner,” Uncle Ichabod snorted.

  Lacy shot him a daggered look and turned up her nose. “I think Colton is gonna love my outfit. I picked it up over at the thrift store. Why this is a Cat Sasson brand designer dress. This dress would have cost at least two hundred dollars in the department store. I snatched it up for less than ten bucks.”

  Lacy slithered to the kitchen counter, sucked in her breath and reached inside the cupboard for a glass.

  Loretta watched with interest, certain her sister had to be extremely uncomfortable and wondering how she was going to sit down without splitting a seam and exposing herself.

  “Just because you’re dating a man of the cloth and can’t wear cute clothes like this doesn’t mean you should judge. Why I’m surprised you don’t buy a nun’s habit and wear that.”

  “Whatever.” Loretta rolled her eye
s and glanced at the clock. “I’m going to clean up. By then, our food will be ready to go and Uncle Ick and I will make our exit.”

  She didn’t wait for a reply, and although she was dying to see how Lacy would manage to sit down, she was running out of time.

  Loretta headed upstairs to her bedroom where she slipped into a pair of jogging shorts and t-shirt. She slid her feet into a pair of her favorite flip-flops she had recently discovered buried in the back of her closet and headed downstairs.

  Lacy was perched on the edge of a kitchen chair, a pinched expression on her face.

  “Do you need me to get anything before we leave?” Loretta asked.

  “No. I think I can handle it.” Lacy chewed on her lower lip and glanced at the clock. “He should be here any time.”

  Uncle Ichabod and Loretta packed an empty laundry basket with the fresh-from-the-oven casserole, several garlic knots, some plates and silverware, along with a couple cans of soda and headed out.

  The laundry basket was too heavy to carry so Uncle Ichabod placed it on the back seat of the golf cart and they climbed inside for the short ride.

  They made it out in the nick of time, passing Colton Sheffield, who was driving a two-door hatchback Honda civic with a loud muffler. Loretta waved. “Huh. I would’ve pegged him for a pick-up truck kinda guy.”

  “Me too.” Uncle Ichabod agreed.

  When they reached the clubhouse, Loretta veered into the parking lot and came to an abrupt halt. “Time to chow down on some good ole Southern cookin’ and see if we can’t catch ourselves a vandal or two.”

  Chapter 6

  Uncle Ichabod slid the laundry basket onto the kitchen counter. Loretta pulled the items from the basket and set them on the counter. “What do you think about the Breezy Point party?”

  When Loretta first suggested the party to her uncle, she got the feeling he was against it, but he seemed to have warmed to the idea and the other day had offered to pitch in and help with whatever needed to be done.

  “I’m thinkin’ you got a heart the size of Mississippi, Loretta. I’m sure the folks ‘round here will love it. A lot of them being seniors and living alone, it’s good for them to get out and mingle with their neighbors. When you first told me about it, I wasn’t so sure but I’ve given it some thought and think it will be a fun day for everyone.”

  “What kinda prizes you thinking about giving away?” he asked.

  Loretta hadn’t thought that far. She wrinkled her brow and shook her head. “What do you think people might like, might actually use and not toss in the closet or set on a shelf to collect dust?”

  “Well, I’m kinda partial to gift cards myself. I like to read, too. Lottery tickets are always a hit with retirees. You never know when someone is gonna hit the jackpot.”

  “True.” They were all good suggestions and Loretta vowed to start a list of possible prizes the following day.

  It was her first ever-organized event, other than casual get-togethers with her girlfriends when she lived in Chicago, and she didn’t want to screw it up.

  Loretta placed the plates on the counter and grabbed a couple paper towels off the paper towel rack near the sink while Uncle Ichabod lifted the tinfoil off the baked spaghetti.

  The two of them filled their plates with the delicious food and settled in at one of the tables near the rear slider that overlooked the pool area.

  The sun had set and a sliver of pale moon peeked over the treetops near the edge of the woods.

  Loretta reached for her can of soda.

  Thump.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” Uncle Ichabod’s hearing was starting to go. He insisted it was fine even though he had to turn the television full blast to hear it these days.

  “It was a thumping noise.” Loretta set her soda on the table and wandered over to the slider. The hair on the back of her neck stood straight up, a feeling she always got when she was certain someone was staring at her.

  Uncle Ichabod shuffled over and stood next to her, peering out. “I don’t see nothin’.”

  Loretta flipped the lever to unlock the door, popped the small metal tab that secured the door and pushed it open before stepping out onto the patio area.

  The motion detector light flashed on and she stood in the spotlight, making it even harder to see.

  The bushes near the fence rustled. “Who’s there?”

  Loretta shivered and rubbed the sides of her arms as she peered out across the pool. She could see Bobby Tackett’s porch light.

  Loretta shifted her gaze. Grace Woodyard’s light was on, too.

  Ping…ping, ping!

  A sharp stinging just above Loretta’s wrist caused her to flinch. “What the heck?”

  Ping.

  She felt another sharp sting, this time on her forehead. Someone was shooting at her!

  “Duck!” Uncle Ichabod grasped Loretta’s elbow and pulled her back inside. They locked the door and she quickly flipped off the light switch. The patio went dark.

  Loretta twisted her arm and gazed at her wrist where an angry red dot appeared. “I think someone out there was shooting at me.”

  Uncle Ichabod pushed his glasses up and stared at the red spot on her wrist. “Looks like you were hit by a BB gun and not a very powerful one at that.”

  “Not powerful? My wrist stings like the dickens. What does my forehead look like?” She parted her hair.

  Uncle Ichabod inspected her forehead. “Yeah. Someone got you dead center. Good thing they didn’t hit you in the eye,” he said.

  “I’ve had just about enough!” Loretta whipped her cell phone out of her back pocket and dialed Collier County Sheriff’s dispatch number, which happened to be on her speed dial.

  “Collier County Sheriff’s Department. What is your emergency?”

  “Yes! Someone shot me with a pellet gun or BB gun.” Loretta shifted the phone and placed the call on speaker.

  “Is this Loretta Sweet?” the dispatcher asked.

  “Yes. Who is this?” Loretta asked.

  “Hey Loretta. It’s me. Wilma Tripple.”

  “Hi Wilma. I’m sorry to bother you, but someone has been vandalizing our property and now someone is out behind the clubhouse shooting at Uncle Ichabod and me with some kind of BB gun or pellet gun. It was dark so I didn’t get a good look.”

  “Lordy,” Wilma tsk-tsked. “Seems like we’ve had a rash of disturbances ‘round Misery lately. Grace Woodyard called earlier saying someone trampled her peonies. She also complained about Breezy Point in general, something about the high lot rent and such.”

  She went on. “I’ll send a patrol car by in case you want them to have a look around.”

  “Yes. That would be great,” Loretta said.

  Wilma cut her off. “Whoops. Got another call comin’ in. Talk to you later.” The line went dead and Loretta shoved the phone back in her pocket.

  “We better eat while we wait,” Uncle Ichabod said.

  Loretta followed him to the table and switched seats so she could stare directly out the slider. She had a sneaky suspicion whomever had shot at her was still lurking about so she lifted her hand and pointed her middle finger at the glass slider.

  “Loretta!” Uncle Ichabod admonished.

  “I know. I’m a terrible person,” she said. “It ticks me off. What if it’s some little thug terrorizing us and others in Misery.” Loretta sawed a chunk of pasta off and put it in her mouth.

  “I reckon that makes sense, what with the senseless vandalism – setting the trash can on fire, sticking a rat in the mailbox, shooting you with a BB gun.” Uncle Ichabod grinned.

  Loretta flashed him a frown. “What? That’s not funny,” she said.

  “I’m sorry Loretta. You shoulda seen the look on your face. Why, I’m sure if you could’ve got your hands on the scoundrel, you probably would’ve wrung their neck.”

  “I still might,” she said. “All I have to do is set a trap, but first, I want to take a look at
your surveillance videos.”

  The two of them finished their food, just in time for Officer Gatlin to arrive.

  Loretta met him at the front door and briefly wondered if he’d noticed Colton Sheffield’s Honda parked near the house.

  Officer Gatlin removed his hat and his eyes squinted as she showed him her wrist. “Whew! They gotcha pretty good.”

  “Punks. At least I think they’re punks.” She went on to tell him how she’d heard a noise, opened the back slider and stepped outside. While she was looking around, she heard a rustle in the bushes and then the pinging noise started. Seconds later, she felt the burning sensation on her wrist and forehead.

  “I’ll take a look around.” Officer Gatlin disappeared around the side of the building, flashlight in hand. He returned several moments later. “I ran into Bobby Tackett out on the road. He said he hadn’t seen anything or anyone”

  “Found this in the bushes.” He held a BB gun in his gloved hand. “Must have dropped this when they saw the cruiser pull up. I can take it down to the station and have it dusted, but I doubt it’ll come back with anything. There’s not much we can do to help. Now if you’d been shot or something more serious…” His voice trailed off.

  “I was shot! You saw my wrist. Look! The pellet could have taken my eye out.” She pushed her bangs to the side and showed Officer Gatlin her forehead. “Basically you’re telling me we’re on our own.”

  “You can head down to the station to file a report. It’s the best I can do.” Officer Gatlin shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I wish I could do more, but there’s not much to go on. Maybe they’ll get bored and move on,” he added.

  Loretta crossed her arms and gazed into the darkness. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take the bb gun instead.”

  Officer Gatlin eyed the baked spaghetti dish as he set the gun on the counter. “Your dinner looks mighty tasty,” he hinted.

  “Let me fix you a plate. We have plenty left over.” Loretta almost felt guilty about helping Lacy make the dish for Colton, as if somehow she was betraying her friendship with Officer Gatlin, whom she’d dated once, right after she moved to Misery.

 

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