The Dana Potter Cozy Mystery Collection

by Liz Turner

  As Dana looked around the little café with the warm lighting and familiar cheerful faces, she felt a rush of contentment. Many of her friends back in Atlanta had decided to retire in south Florida, in brand new condominiums with community pools and wheelchair ramps to the beach. But Dana had only felt a profound sense of loneliness when she considered slipping into her old age out in the sun and sand with people she hardly knew. So instead, she’d decided to come back to Pippin. Though she hadn’t much family around anymore—her husband had died years ago—the families of Pippin had for the most part been the same ones she remembered fifty years ago. And they’d all welcomed her back with open arms, quickly making her feel as much a part of the fabric of the town as anyone. She’d used the wealth she’d accumulated from years in the luxury real estate market to purchase a modest home right in Pippin’s small downtown square and renovated the 1920s building to fit her taste, outfitting it with the latest modern amenities.

  The group tonight included the sharp-witted Izzy Mack. She was a woman about Dana’s age who’d moved to Pippin twenty years ago when she’d married the mayor at the time. Kaitlyn and Deborah Price were sisters in their late fifties who both taught at the Pippin elementary school, and Jenny Meltzer—one of Dana’s closest friends in town. Jenny and Dana had gone to high school together though Jenny was originally from the town over. They’d both moved away to pursue their careers (or men, Dana mused, chuckling), and somehow ended up back up in Pippin. Jenny had been in the town for only a year longer than Dana, having moved back to take care of her ailing older sister.

  About an hour into the festivities, Jenny gently gripped Dana’s arm. “Is everything all right?” she asked quietly. Her gaze was discerning as she studied Dana.

  “Yes, of course,” Dana said, a knee-jerk reply. “Why do you ask?”

  Jenny raised her eyebrows. “No reason. You just seem a little preoccupied that’s all.”

  Dana couldn’t help but smile though just slightly. Jenny was a master of reading people, especially those she knew very well. Dana liked to think she was more than capable of hiding her thoughts, but with Jenny, she could never quite pull it off. “If you must know,” Dana whispered, “I’m just thinking about something strange that happened to me on my way here.”

  “Strange?”

  Dana nodded and then cocked her head, deep in thought. “Strange might not be the right word. Ominous. It felt ominous. Like a harbinger of something much worse.” She shook her head roughly. “Although, it could be that I’m imagining it all. Could be nothing.”

  Jenny looked at her and took a sip from her glass of wine. “I’ve never known you to imagine, or exaggerate even, a thing since I’ve known you. You’re a straight shooter. So, if you say…”

  Chapter 3

  What She Saw

  in the Park

  The following morning, Dana Potter woke at her usual early hour. She made a pot of coffee and went to sit outside on her porch to observe the quiet town center as she typically did on Saturday mornings.

  It surprised her sometimes how satisfied she was with the silence and slowness of life in Pippin. Her mornings used to be spent over a to-go cup of coffee she hardly remembered drinking as she answered emails and returned phone calls with home buyers, home staging companies, home sellers, and fellow agents. She wasn’t sure if twenty, perhaps even just ten years ago, she would have ever considered moving back to her childhood town. She had always prided herself on her career, which had concluded in a private office on the sixteenth floor of a high rise building in midtown Atlanta.

  Not too shabby, she’d thought, especially since she’d built all that for herself during a time when many of her female contemporaries had resigned to status quo positions as secretaries, teachers, or nurses—at least until they found husbands.

  Of course, now, Dana understood the calling to a simpler life. Not that she would have given up her career for anything in the world, just that she no longer felt that drive to reach higher. She supposed now; she wanted to reach deeper.

  As she sat staring placidly over her porch rail, a movement caught her eye. She squinted, thinking she had seen something near the far end of Main Street, which was unusual for this early in the morning. But as she gazed, she realized she must have been mistaken. The streets were as empty as ever.

  She went back inside to refill her mug and grab her copy of the latest Atlanta Journal-Constitution newspaper. When she came back out, she froze.

  There it is again! she thought. Craning her neck over her railing and removing her reading glasses, she spotted the source of the sound—a young man jogging quietly perpendicular to Main Street. She understood why the movement had struck her so much; he wore long jeans and a bright colored polo shirt—not exactly typical jogging attire.

  Dana frowned and shook her head. Probably late for curfew after a party, hoping his parents won’t notice, she mused. She smirked, remembering her own antics as a teen in Pippin. Though she’d never done anything as bold as stay out all night, she knew that times had changed, and if she were a teenager now, that would have probably been her jogging home at 6:30 a.m. in yesterday’s clothes.

  After breakfast, Dana decided to take a stroll through town, aiming to pass by her childhood home. Occasionally, when she felt particularly nostalgic, she found herself walking past the small brick house, now occupied by a middle-aged couple. Her old house used to be located on the very outskirts of town, a fact she’d always resented growing up. Now, however, the area was considered quite central considering the way the east side of town had sprung up. Donning a pair of light-colored trousers and a heavy sweater, she made her way down the streets. It was turning out to be a pleasant day, with just a few clouds and a light breeze. Now only 8:30 a.m., she encountered a few passersby on the street, to whom she waved politely.

  Forty minutes later, she arrived outside the single-story ranch house she had lived in for twenty years as a child and young adult. The memories didn’t flood over her as they once did; she supposed she had visited the spot too many times lately to invoke the shock of visceral nostalgia. Of course, she remembered playing on the browning lawn, the particular creaking sound the side door always made, and the picnics her mother would host on the small front lawn. But she also remembered the occasional dinners the couple—the Garrison’s—had invited her to in the past years after they’d found out she grew up there. They were a sweet couple, owning a landscaping business together.

  Dana only allowed herself to stand in the street across from the lot for a few minutes. Any longer and it would have been inappropriate since the home was no longer hers.

  She turned back to the center of town, feeling inspired to do something she hadn’t done in a long time.

  She popped in the local F & F Homegrown Grocery, which was just opening its doors.

  “Good morning, Ms. Potter,” Peter Rawley, the store manager, said warmly as he directed a shipment of peanut butter down aisle four. “Certainly here bright and early, aren’t you?”

  “It’s just such a nice day. Couldn’t stay cooped up inside for a single moment!” Dana replied.

  “Can I help you find anything? Interest you in some South Georgia peanut butter?” He gestured to the crates of glass jars.

  “Hmmm, that does sound delicious, but I’m actually just here to pick up a quick morning snack. A bottle of sparkling water, some fruit…”

  Peter grinned and pointed to his left. “Aisle seven for the water. And I’m sure you know where our produce section is. Take care now!”

  Dana picked out a carton of already cut watermelon, a box of her favorite crackers, and a bottle of lemon-flavored sparkling water. She then made a beeline for the nearby park and settled in a sunny spot where there was a comfortable bench.

  Sipping her drink and nibbling on a cracker, she sighed contentedly. This was one of her favorite spots in Pippin, yet she hadn’t been there in months. It was always so pleasant, especially during the winter when pests were at a minimum a
nd the weather was cool.

  The place was well maintained. There was a small pond in the center that always had a wide array of wildlife, including several species of stork and crane. There was a single trail running along the pond and edges of the park, not paved, but made from hard-packed dirt that was easy enough to walk or run. Old weeping willow trees provided plentiful shade.

  The park felt natural rather than carefully landscaped, which Dana appreciated. The grass was spotty at best, but she didn’t mind. The town had done a good job of building sturdy cement benches and picnic tables so that no one had to sit on the ground if they didn’t want to.

  Dana scanned the area by the pond, her eyes leaping from birds to a row of turtles propped up on each other’s backs to sun themselves. Shortly, she saw two people entering from the other side—a young couple holding hands. They stopped and spread a blanket on the ground. Dana watched them absently until the girl ran a bit closer to her in order to step back from her picnic set up and snap a photograph of her beau.

  Dana took in a sharp breath. Not until then did she realize the girl was none other than Taylor Reinhart.

  Or should she say, Laney Winston?

  The young man, she soon recognized by his clothing, was the same one she’d seen making his way down the street earlier that morning.

  Dana’s curiosity was thoroughly piqued. She didn’t think she knew the young man personally, but she eagerly wanted to see if he would use the name Taylor or Laney.

  In the most nonchalant manner she could manage, she kept a close watch on the young couple. For about a half hour, the two simply sat on their blanket and chatted quietly, with Taylor grinning broadly. She appeared to be teasing the boy about something though he was taking her ribbing good naturedly. Dana looked away when the couple began to kiss, but luckily, they soon got up and packed their things.

  Dana watched them as they headed out the park the same way they’d came. Once they were safely far enough ahead, she quickly threw her own little picnic into the grocery bag and hurried in their direction.

  She turned the corner and caught sight of them moving along the street at a fast clip. Dana kicked up her pace, but still fell behind. After a moment, she had to pause to catch her breath.

  I thought I was in good shape! she thought, pressing a tissue to her forehead and lamenting her age.

  Resigning to the fact that should couldn’t keep up with a couple teenagers, she simply watched them for a good while as they navigated the straight, long street.

  Taylor seemed happy and very fond of her companion, touching his arm gently and giggling so loudly she could be heard all the way from Dana’s vantage point. They were, without a doubt, dating.

  Young love, Dana thought wistfully. Their obvious infatuation for each other would have been amusing and even uplifting to watch were it not for the troubling clues Dana had noticed.

  Chapter 4

  Picture of Innocence

  Dana sat at her favorite outdoor table at the Blue Swallow, sipping an almond milk latte and thinking deeply.

  “Dana!” came a shout from nearby.

  She jerked her head from where she’d been staring off down the street Taylor and her boyfriend had gone and came face-to-face with Lydia’s waist. The younger woman stood by her table staring down at her with a funny yet disapproving expression.

  “Oh, Lydia! Don’t creep up on me like that! My goodness!”

  Lydia raised her eyebrows. “Well, if you’d been paying attention, you would have known that I didn’t creep up at all. I called your name several times, asking if you wanted a pastry. They just came out the oven.”

  Dana waved her hand. “Oh. No, thank you, Lydia. Sorry about that. I must have been just thinking too hard for my own good as my mother used to say.”

  “Mmhm, I’m sure.” Lydia winked and disappeared inside.

  Dana frowned and took a sip of her coffee. She had been thinking hard, all right. Thinking about how—even though this time she’d only seen Taylor at a distance—it was as though she was a different person altogether. Dana thought that if this morning had been the first time she’d seen Taylor, or Laney, she’d not have thought anything of it all; she would have simply thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, conflating one girl with another of the same height, build, and hair color.

  Dana drummed her fingers on the table. The girl she’d seen today had a very different way of carrying herself than Taylor. Not to mention wore different clothing as she’d noticed before. She would have assumed they were different people without a second thought had she not seen her up-close the previous day and witnessed the exact resemblance.

  Taylor Reinhart—calm, shy, with a habit of casting her eyes down when she walked about the town. Laney Winston—flirtatious, energetic, wearing bright colors and raggedy jeans.

  Hmmm, Dana thought. I’m thinking about them as though they’re different people. But are they? Could Taylor simply be pulling some typical teenager trick?

  She thought back to the boy she was with. It probably had something to do with him. Dana had never seen him at church. She made a mental note to find out who he was.

  “Lydia!” Dana called into the open café door.

  “Yes?” came a muffled reply.

  “I think I’m in the mood for an apple cinnamon muffin after all.”

  ***

  The next morning, Sunday, Dana arrived to church a good fifteen minutes before the bells would ring for the ten o’clock service. As much as she found her excitement somewhat tasteless, she couldn’t help how eager she felt to see Taylor interact with her family.

  It had occurred to Dana that perhaps she just hadn’t noticed Taylor slowly coming out of her shell over the past months. Plus, she supposed girls were naturally more reserved at church. And didn’t many of them change as they neared adulthood, coming into themselves as women? Maybe Taylor had found new confidence in the prospect of a looming independence.

  And maybe I’m just not as memorable as I’d assumed, Dana thought, remembering how Taylor hadn’t seemed to recognize her on the street.

  Dana smiled brightly at Izzy Mack as she strode into the church, being dragged along swiftly by her eight-year-old grandson.

  We old women are sort-of a dime a dozen in Pippin, she mused, shaking her head gently.

  A teenage girl, even one as sweet as Taylor Reinhart, had so much going on in her head, and so many new changes to face. It wouldn’t be a stretch to believe Taylor simply hadn’t recognized an old lady she only saw once a week.

  Dana’s heart leapt slightly when she spotted the Reinharts getting out of their car. Soon, Taylor emerged, wearing a pastel lavender dress that reached past her mid-shins. With her hair clipped behind her ears, she looked the perfect picture of innocence.

  Dana bid her time, sitting on a bench by the door. Once the Reinharts were approaching, she hoisted herself up and busied herself with looking in her pocketbook for nothing in particular. She then made her way toward the open doors, falling in step with the Reinhart family.

  Sara Beth’s dark hair was perfectly curled, bouncing slightly as she walked. Noticing Dana, she greeted her with what Dana referred to as the ‘southern-lady-smile’—mouth open wide, eyes exaggeratedly crinkling, and nose and top lip pulled up. The kind of expression used to woo babies into giggling. Dana couldn’t help thinking there was some undercurrent of disgust underneath that smile. Why else would the nose crinkle up in that telltale way?

  Dana smiled back, gripping Sara Beth’s outstretched hands tightly and shaking them. “Why, if it isn’t the beautiful Reinhart family! Right on time as always. If I lived with you, I’d bet I’d never need a watch!”

  “Well, you know you’re always welcome, Ms. Potter!” Sara Beth replied.

  “Good to see you,” Lloyd Reinhart said in his deep voice. He pushed his son forward.

  “Uh, hi….” the eleven-year-old said, looking uncomfortable.

  Dana smiled kindly at him. Truthfully, she was glad he hadn
’t said more, for as surely as he had forgotten her name, she’d forgotten his.

  Taylor looked up from her cellphone and smiled sweetly. “Hi, Ms. Potter. How are you?”

  Mmhm, Dana thought. The picture of innocence. “I’m well. Thank you for asking.” Dana flicked a glance at Sara Beth.

  The younger woman seemed to take the cue immediately. “Oh, yes, Ms. Potter. Have you seen any more of this doppelgänger our Taylor apparently has? We all had a good laugh about it this week! Can’t imagine that. A girl who looks exactly like Taylor!” Her tinny laugh floated through the air.

  “Oh yeah. Mom said you saw someone who looked like me?” Taylor said.

  Dana eyed the girl. She looked genuinely curious. “Yes, I did. The other day, she bumped into me on the street. The resemblance was uncanny.” Dana watched the girl’s face closely for any sign of recognition, but Taylor’s face was neutral. A little amused, even. “And then I saw her again at the park with a young man…”

  Taylor smiled slightly. “That’s so weird. I wonder where she goes to school? There isn’t anybody at my school who looks like my twin.”

  “She introduced herself to me as Laney Winston.”

  “I’ll have to try to find her!” Taylor said, laughing.

  “We’ll see you in there,” Sara Beth said, pushing her children forward with one hand on each. “Don’t want to miss the service.” Again, she flashed her southern-lady-smile at Dana, and the next moment, the family had disappeared into the church’s dark mouth.

  Dana stood for a moment, reflecting over the conversation. It had been an entirely normal conversation on the surface, but wasn’t there something else to it?

  Dana chewed her lip, replaying every micro expression she could recall on Taylor’s face when she’d mentioned Laney. There didn’t seem to be anything she was hiding, but then again, Dana wasn’t exactly an expert on reading facial expressions. She just went by her gut about people, and right now, she didn’t know what her gut was feeling.

  Something told her to be on high alert because something was wrong. But she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was. She wanted to believe Taylor, but she had a feeling there was something under the surface of that conversation.