The Valentine's Day Mini-Mystery Compendium

by T B Audrey

  Slowly, Gina nodded.

  “Gina,” Patricia said. “I thought you learned when you worked for Yvonne’s father. He only tried to help you and you lied about him and almost ruined his business.”

  “You can’t possibly arrest me for this.”

  “I’m not even going to try to,” Mrs. Reynolds replied, “but I want you to leave, right now. I’ll tell the judges what happened and take full responsibility for giving grants to people who can’t be trusted. Oh, but Gina.” Mrs. Reynolds paused. “You will be paying it back. I’ll make sure of that.”

  Gina shot her a dirty look before stomping out of the door. She ran into several men and women as they entered. Pushing her way through the mob, she slammed the door behind her.

  “The judges,” Mrs. Reynolds said.

  The contestants hurried over to the table, anxious to overhear what the judges might say. Mrs. Reynolds interrupted them, forcing them back as she addressed her audience.

  “That was amazing, Cara. How did you know it was in the punch?” Rick asked.

  “Well, at first, I thought Gina was checking you out, but when I realized that it had to be her, it was obvious that she had dropped the necklace in the punch out of desperation. She was looking at it. And the one time I went over to the punchbowl, she hurried over to talk to me. She was scared I might notice it, though it would have been difficult to see it mixed in with all the decorative stones. Since then, she’s been trying to figure out how to get it back and safely disposed of.”

  “Wait a minute… you thought she was checking me out?” Rick grinned.

  “Yes.” Cara blushed and looked away.

  “Cara.” She turned to face him reluctantly. She was sure he would notice how red her face was. “I hope you don’t think any differently of me, now that you know the problems I’ve had in the past. I was worried you might think I would steal the necklace.”

  Laughing, Cara shook her head. “I knew you wouldn’t steal it, Rick.” She tried to laugh everything off as a joke and move away but he stopped her again.

  “Good.” His green eyes were so serious. “Because I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” He stared in her eyes for what seemed like an eternity to Cara and nervously rubbed his hands together. “So….”

  Cara had never seen Rick nervous or unsure of himself. It was very entertaining. She waited for him to continue.

  Finally, he did. Clearing his throat, he stumbled over his words, “Can you… I mean, would you… like to go out. With me, I mean, go out with me?” When she didn’t reply immediately, he hurriedly added, “I’d really like it if you would.” He stuffed his hands in his back pockets and rocked back on his heels.

  “Of course I would,” Cara said softly. “But, if you wanted to go out with me for so long, why didn’t you ever hang out with us outside of work? Why didn’t you make a move?” I’ve been waiting, she thought.

  “I couldn’t afford it. I didn’t have the time or the money. I’ve been working three jobs up until a couple of weeks ago. I know you were shocked to hear I’ve been working two, but it seems like a break to me. That supervisor promotion came just at the right time.”

  “I wish you would have told me.”

  “I was embarrassed. You’ve got everything going for you and I… I didn’t. I don’t. But I will one day.” He let out his held breath with a whoosh. “It just about killed me every time I missed out on hanging out with you. I’ve been really worried you would find someone else.”

  “I’ll tell you a secret,” Cara said with a smile. She threaded her fingers through his. “I’ve hoped you would ask me out for months. I didn’t think you liked me when you never wanted to do anything with us.”

  Rick squeezed her hand. “Well, keep Valentine’s Day open for me. I’ve got big plans.”

  “Like what?” Cara asked. A thrilling feeling went through her as she realized that she wasn’t going to be spending the holiday alone.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Rick teased. A line formed around the bar as guests spilled into the small space. The two shared a panicked glance.

  “Uh… can you mix up some more punch? I’ve got a few pitchers behind the bar, but since the first bowl of punch was contaminated, it’ll have to be tossed.” He teased her, “We might run out.”

  Cara nodded. “I suppose I could do that.”

  The heavy pitchers sloshed dangerously, threatening to send the red liquid cascading over her white shirt sleeves. Cara bit her lip and focused on the task ahead. The room was beginning to fill so she was forced to weave around the tables and small groups of chatting people to the bar. She sucked in her breath sharply as a large woman with a red bouffant almost backed into her.

  “Here, let me help.” Rick appeared at her side, deftly grabbing a pitcher with one hand while steering her away from the woman with the other.

  “Thank you,” Cara said gratefully. “Wow, it really filled up quickly.”

  “Yeah, and they’re starving. Look at that.” He nodded towards the dessert table. Hand after hand reached out to snag a piece of pie or a slice of cake. Cara made a mental note to restock the table with the plated desserts cooling in the large refrigerators in the kitchen as soon as she could do so without risking losing a limb.

  Besides, a line was waiting for them at the bar. Cara was relieved to see that Rick had already refilled the punch bowl with the backup pitchers at the bar. The glass stones glowed red at the bottom of the trough. She sighed happily. No more trips through the kitchen for now. She tucked the extra pitchers under the table on the shelf and began restocking the glasses.

  Cara smiled to herself. Snow fell heavily outside, framed neatly by the window behind Rick. She caught his eye, her smile widening. He grinned back mischievously. The future looked bright.

  AUTHOR PAGE

  Price McNaughton was born and raised in a small town in Tennessee. A childhood steeped in the stories and legends of her ancestors as well as the southern way of life led her to carry on the tradition and become a storyteller herself. After years of traveling and working at a variety of jobs, she has finally returned to her roots and devoted herself to writing. A Vision of Murder is her first book. She has recently released a romantic mystery short story, The Ruby Necklace. She can be reached at pricemcnaughton@yahoo.com or at the following sites:

  Book review blog: http://www.talebearers.com/

  Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/16301315-a-vision-of-murder

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/PriceMcNaughton

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PriceMcnaughton?ref=hl

  Price McNaughton’s full-length novel, A Vision of Murder, is available at:

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00AF22E66

  SIGNED, YOUR SECRET ADMIRER

  By Giles Kent

  This must be a joke, she thought, when she spotted the heart-shaped card on her desk. Someone was trying to get a laugh at her expense, but she was not about to play along. Maybe they were all watching. She tried to scan her surroundings without looking conspicuous, to see if there was a mob waiting to burst out in laughter as she opened the card.

  “I will never give them the satisfaction,” she muttered under her breath.

  She was known around the office as a no-nonsense type of girl. She even had a no-nonsense kind of name: Helen. She had always heard that your personality fits the name bestowed on you at birth or vice versa, and she had to agree. Yes, no nonsense, all business and no play. That pretty much summed her up. In her estimation, love and marriage should be approached as a business contract. That’s probably why they targeted me, she thought. She never bought in to that silly stuff and she was prime material for a good laugh. She would show them. She swiped her hand across the desk and knocked the card into the trashcan in one swoop. She did feel a bit shaken, though, and embarrassed by her next thought. What if it is real?

  The afternoon passed slowly. It was almost time to go home, but she could not stop thinking about that card. Helen prete
nded to tidy up around her desk as she waited until her coworkers slowly left one by one. She stared at the card in the trashcan, hoping it had landed open so she could inconspicuously read anything that might be visible. No such luck. She started to reach in the can, but jerked her arm back, ashamed of herself. She should not care about such nonsense. After all, she was too smart to participate in silly romantic gestures. If anyone wanted to date her, there would have to be a much bigger production than an anonymous card on her desk.

  Her mind wandered back to her childhood. Her father had left when she was a baby, forcing her mother to struggle to make ends meet. They had always lived in the worst neighborhoods. She was never dressed like the other kids, making her the brunt of jokes. All of this made for the life of a loner. Too embarrassed to ask anybody to her home, not that they would want to be her friend with the way she dressed, she spent her time studying in hopes that she could do better than her mother, and more importantly, never depend on a man. She had adored her mother and as soon as she was old enough, she found work whenever and wherever she could to help pay the bills. However, their lifestyle and the stress it caused had taken a toll on her mother’s health. The summer she graduated high school, her mother succumbed to a long, lingering illness.

  She was all alone. She went into survival mode. By her way of thinking, a man might be useful if he could provide her with a nice lifestyle, but she would have to make sure that she was protected if he up and left. If a man like that came along, she might bite, but otherwise she would look out for herself. Nobody else was going to.

  Only one man in the office would have enough class to court her in the proper fashion, but she had long given up on that. Robert never gave her the time of day, not even a glance in her direction. He seemed to be a lot like her, ambitious, focusing his time and energy on moving up the ladder and being successful, rarely interacting with anyone else in the office. He was recently promoted to Vice President and she barely saw him anymore. It didn’t matter, though. He was just like her. She had worked with him for years and he had barely said two words to her. He was too caught up in himself and his future. So much for that, she thought, and it could still be a practical joke. She never had really dated anyone and would never let anyone in the office know it for fear that something like this might happen. In every office she had ever worked in, there was the practical joker, bored to death with his job and willing to make you the laughing stock of the office.

  Kevin fit that description to a tee. She had to admit, he could be charming in his own right. Over the years, she had watched him woo every new girl in the office. No matter how many times they were warned it wouldn’t last, they always believed his lines. “I have never met anyone like you,” he would say. “You’re special, the others meant nothing to me,” he would continue, in the most romantic tone he could muster. It was sickening to watch. The more she proved to be a challenge, the more he wanted to conquer her.

  His wiles did not work on Helen, however. She treated him just like everyone else in the office. No matter what tricks he tried, she would only discuss business with him. He was relentless for about six months, but he couldn’t break her, and much to everyone’s surprise, eventually gave up. Every so often he would make a half-hearted effort again, looking for that little chink in her armor. In his mind, everyone had a weak point. He just hadn’t found hers yet.

  Why couldn’t she make herself leave? She did not feel herself. Something deep down would not let her leave without seeing who was behind that card, no matter how hard she tried to make her feet move. She had to make a decision. What was wrong with her? Normally, she would snub her nose at this nonsense, but today she felt something. It was a very uncomfortable feeling, at that. Maybe it was hope that this was really happening and that there was just a slight chance that she would not end up being alone forever.

  “Maybe I should take a chance,” she muttered, almost silently, but her head told her she was acting like a ridiculous schoolgirl. Even if she decided to fish the card out of the trash, was she willing to risk being the laughing stock of the entire office? What if they were hiding, waiting to jump out, much like a surprise party, but in reality a cruel joke? A decision had to be made. She couldn’t stay there all night. If she left now without looking, she might never know the answer. She carefully lowered her hand to her side, trying not to be too conspicuous and grabbed the card between the tips of two shaking fingers.

  It seemed like forever before the card was resting on the desk in front of her and still nothing. Nobody jumped out, no laughter. Maybe this is real. She looked around the room suspiciously before pulling back the front cover of the card. Romance. That is all it said except for being signed your secret admirer. Secret admirer. She said these words over and over in her mind, not being able to comprehend them. She couldn’t help being embarrassed at the thought of this. Who in this office would feel that way about me? Someone must be pulling her leg. Tomorrow the whole office would be laughing at her. Maybe she would call in sick. It was hard to believe a person could enjoy doing this to someone else. Helen hurriedly slipped the note in her purse and headed out the door. This had been an unusual day, but all in all, rather… exciting. For now, she would let herself believe it was true. That she really did have a secret admirer.

  At home, she nervously took the card from her purse to get a better look at it. She could not inspect it like she had wanted to in the office for fear that she was being watched. Maybe it held a clue that would lead her to its writer. The card was nothing special and looked to be very cheap. Just the kind of secret admirer I would get, she thought to herself.

  For a minute the excitement of having a secret admirer was lost as she imagined him in the worst light. She thought of him being a cheap skate, standing there, picking out that card and thinking she might really like it.

  “Anyone who really knows me wouldn’t think I would like anything from the dollar store.” She shook her head as if it would remove the image. The few times she had envisioned herself married, it was to an ambitious, successful businessman that enjoyed the best things in life. Before she even graduated high school, she had promised herself that would be the only kind of man she would ever be interested in and she had kept that promise. They did not necessarily have to be in love, but have a love of the same type of lifestyle. She did appreciate the finer things in life. She continued inspecting the card. It was heart-shaped and solid red with the words “Happy Valentine’s Day” stamped in pink. That was it for the front. She hoped, when she opened the card, there would be some tiny clue she had missed before, but no, only the word, Romance, and the signature your secret admirer stared up at her.

  “I could go to some of the nearby dollar stores,” she said out loud. She had fallen into the habit of voicing her thoughts since her mother died. It helped to break the still silence in her home. “Maybe I could do that tomorrow.” No, she thought. I really don’t like going to those kinds of places. She bit her lip, but I might if no other clues turn up soon.

  In addition to the card obviously being really generic and cheap, the only other clue she had was that it was put on her desk during the time she was at lunch. So, by that calculation, it had to have been deposited there somewhere between 1:00 and 2:00. That meant either they did not have the same lunch break or he had left the cafeteria at some point and placed it on her desk. Tomorrow she would have to pay more attention to who was in the cafeteria with her and be aware of anyone leaving early. That was all she could deduce so far. Sadly, she folded the card back to its original shape, suddenly coming to the realization that she would probably never figure out who it was.

  Even after reaching that conclusion, that night she fell asleep with a smile on her face. At least for one night she could dream that this was really happening. In truth, she thought, it still smells of a practical joke.

  “Probably that idiot, Kevin.” She really hoped he had nothing to do with this. She had always tried to fly under the radar where he was concerned.
It took a long time to live down one of his jokes. She had endured enough of his kind of humor as a child. She had learned then, it was best to just be invisible.

  The weekend seemed to last forever, but finally it was Monday morning. She woke with the thought of her Valentine’s card. She could not help but be a little giddy. Bringing herself back to reality, she tried to play it down in her own mind because she felt so silly. “It was surely Kevin,” she said to herself, but what was the harm of her hoping until she was positive? Chances were, that even if it did end up being legitimate, she would probably be incompatible with its author. From what she had seen, he looked a little cheap, a little boring, and pretty much gutless, for not having enough gumption to give her the card face to face. She was pretty sure a man like that would never interest her.

  She was actually excited about going in to work until she peered at herself in the mirror. I really am a plain Jane, she thought. Now that she could afford some nicer clothes, she had no idea what to buy and she never primped. Looking at herself, she wondered, why would anyone want to be my secret admirer? Her hair was always sensible, with each strand in place and she never wore makeup, not even lipstick. Her wardrobe consisted of drab, monotone in color business clothes, which helped her blend into her surroundings and which she preferred. It had always disgusted her to see women in her office use their looks instead of brains to move up, but today, being sensible was not so appealing either. She surveyed herself in the mirror. Usually, sad, lonely eyes stared back at her, but today there was just a hint of excitement. It lit up her whole face.

  Since I don’t even own any makeup, I guess all I can do today is wear my hair down, she thought. Usually her auburn hair was swept up in a tight, official-looking bun and her heavy-rimmed glasses rested on her small nose. She wished she did not have to wear them. She took them off revealing an ordinary but pretty face and stared at her light green eyes in the mirror. She could get by without the makeup. Her skin had a natural, tanned appearance, which was funny, because her idea of a good time was spending all day at the local library or museum. Moving on, her wardrobe posed a whole new set of problems. She had no idea how to make a staunch business suit look anything but staunch. She tried to visualize the other girls in the office but she had never paid much attention to their clothes. Not unless they looked unprofessional, in which case she would give them a disapproving look. Finally, she decided to just wear a black skirt and a form-fitting sweater to show off her figure just a little. She tied a belt around her small waist and thought it looked good. Her shoes were still a problem. Very sensible, but they would have to work for today. I look better, she thought, but I feel silly.