Death by Association: The Wellington Cozy Mystery series

by M A Comley

  “What name is that, darlin’?”

  “You know. That woman who came in this morning. I told you I’d give it to Lucy when she came in next, and here you are almost letting me forget about it.”

  “This one?” He grinned, using his index finger to extract a small strip of paper from his pocket, holding it out toward her.

  “Give me that, you old fool.” Sal’s voice belied her harsh words. Lucy loved to listen to them bicker. Sometimes they sounded like her own parents.

  She took the slip of paper from Sal.

  “I’ll think about it and maybe have a talk with Marnie. If she’s interested, I’ll give this woman a call. Did she have any references?”

  “How do I know? You think I’m running an employment agency?”

  That was Lucy’s signal to leave and that Sal was busy. She blew Sal a kiss and walked out.

  7

  Lucy took a few days away from working on her book to regain some perspective. An unexpected warm day led her to wash some of the windows inside and out before the rigid New England winter came calling. Then she went shopping to stock up on supplies, bought a new snow shovel and several salt bags for the sidewalks; she even stopped by the computer store and meandered the aisles, wondering if the latest and greatest laptop would provide the excitement she needed to get her inspiration racing.

  It was Tuesday—a dull night on television. Lucy made use of the time by baking several dozens of her best chocolate chip cookies, which she placed in plastic containers ready to freeze. It was late when she finished, so she set aside a dozen on a sturdy but pretty plastic plate ready to take to her neighbor. But when she glanced out the window, Marnie’s lights were already out. Oh well, best laid plans. I’ll go to bed instead.

  The next morning, she made herself a cup of coffee and traipsed next door to take Marnie the cookies. Her hands full, the best she could do was muster a tap on the door with her sneaker. She called out, “Marnie, it’s me, Lucy. I’ve brought you something.”

  The woman’s petrified face appeared at the living room window, but when Marnie saw Lucy, she broke into a smile and opened the inside door. “Hi, there!”

  Lucy was thrilled to see Marnie so sociable, the total opposite of her normal personality, which was usually one of fear and reluctance. She held out the plate. “I baked these last night and thought you might like some. I even brought my own cup of coffee with me. Mind if I step in for a few minutes? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

  Marnie didn’t answer immediately, and she peered over her shoulder at the mess behind her. Lucy could tell she was embarrassed, or perhaps she was a little afraid that Lucy would interfere, insist they make a start on clearing things up. “Umm… I don’t know. Oh, I appreciate you bringing the cookies and all, but I was in the middle of something.”

  “I completely understand. I won’t stay long and just want to step inside the door. It’s pretty nippy out here.”

  “Uh, well… I suppose it would be okay. But just for a minute, okay?” Marnie gingerly stepped behind the door to allow Lucy in.

  “Oh, what a pretty sweater you’re wearing, Marnie,” Lucy said joyfully. The brilliant red was festive and set off Marnie’s beautiful blonde hair. “Very flattering.”

  Marnie eyed her with suspicion. It didn’t take Lucy long to realize Marnie wasn’t used to getting compliments, not surprising, given her circumstances and living alone as she did. “So,” Marnie said. “What was it you wanted?” She took the plate of cookies and sampled one before setting it atop an egg box.

  “Oh, yes, everyone down at Sal’s Bakery has been asking after you, what with winter and all setting in. They asked if I’d seen you; they’re concerned, especially after hearing about the trouble you had the other night.”

  “Really? Oh, no, that’s not good. I don’t like people talking about me behind my back.”

  “Oh, my, you shouldn’t take it that way, Marnie. They’re your friends and they’re keen to help, but they don’t want to invade your privacy.”

  “Ah, I see. That’s sweet of them, then… I suppose.”

  Lucy cleared her throat. “Sal told me a woman came into the bakery, and over a cup of coffee, it came to light that she was looking for a position locally as a companion.”

  “Uh-huh.” Marnie stared at her nonplussed, waiting for Lucy to continue.

  “It seems she just needs a room and board, and in return, she wants to be a companion to someone who could use her company. Sally took her number, thinking of you.”

  Marnie’s hand slapped her chest. “Me? Why would I need anyone?”

  Lucy got the impression she was going down a slippery slope. “Only because you live alone, and that can be rough when things crop up. Take the other night, for instance.”

  “But you live right next door, Lucy. You came right over.”

  “Yes, that’s true.” Lucy shifted feet, trying her best to ignore the stale odors coming at her from all sides of the small home. “But what if I hadn’t been home? What if you hadn’t had time to grab your gun and get a shot off? If I hadn’t heard the shot, I would have never known you were in trouble. I just thought that maybe if someone lived here with you—someone you trusted who didn’t interfere with the way you like to do things, they would be on hand in case of trouble. Not only that, it would give you someone to talk to.”

  She hesitated for a few moments and shook her head. “Oh, I don’t know, Lucy. I’m a very private person, you know.”

  “Yes, I totally understand that. This person wouldn’t interfere in any way unless you asked for their help. They would have a room here and help with the cooking and chores as you needed them. Think how comforting it would be not to be alone at night.”

  “Well…”

  Lucy could see a spark enter Marnie’s eye. As if she was testing how she would feel about having a stranger around, and yet the idea of having help was too much to pass up immediately.

  “I suppose I could give it some thought.”

  “Sal gave me the name and number of the woman. She might not be available forever. There are probably numerous people willing to swap out room and board for help. What if I were to give her a call and ask her to come over? I’d meet her at my place first, interview her to see if she was a suitable candidate and then if she seems okay, I could bring her over to see you. We wouldn’t get in the way, but you could talk to her and see what you think?”

  “Oh? I suppose that might not be too bad. Only if you promise to leave in case I don’t like her or if she makes me feel… scared, right?”

  Lucy nodded and smiled. “I promise I’ll whisk her away in a moment,” she said with a snap of her fingers. “You just give me the word.”

  “I wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

  “I’m sure you won’t. I’ll explain ahead of time that you like things a certain way and she’d have to fit in or it wouldn’t work for you.”

  Marnie was quiet, deep in thought for a moment or two. She surprised Lucy when she said, “Yes. Yes, that would help. Okay, I agree to that. When would this be?”

  “I’ll call her when I get back home and then let you know. Okay?”

  “Yes, okay, Lucy. I trust you. If anyone else had suggested this, I would have said no straight away.”

  “Good. Thank you for trusting me. Now you just enjoy those cookies and I’ll be in touch soon. Goodbye, Marnie.”

  Marnie shoved open the storm door quickly, and herded Lucy out into the cold.

  Lucy understood, and she waved and headed home. I don’t know if this will work or not, but we’ll give it a shot.

  8

  “Is this Winnie?”

  “Yes. Who’s this?”

  Lucy sat in her chair at her desk, one eye on Marnie’s place, intrigued by the voice on the other end of the call. It was sweet, had a slight British accent, and sounded exactly like Mary Poppins.

  “Hi, Winnie, my name is Lucy Diamond. You gave your number to Sal down at Sal’s
Sweets and she passed it on to me. I understand you’re looking for a position as a companion?”

  “Why, yes, I am, Lucy. How kind of you to follow up and call me.”

  “No problem. Here’s the reason for me getting in touch with you, Winnie. I have a friend who might be open to having a companion, but she’s keen for me to interview you first and get all the details. Are you still looking for a position?”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  “I wondered if you wouldn’t mind meeting me down at Sal’s—maybe tomorrow afternoon? Everyone there knows the situation, and I think it might be good for you to chat with us all. You know. We’d learn more about you, and you’d learn more about us. Would you be available?”

  “What time, Lucy?”

  “How about just after lunch, at about two?”

  “That sounds just perfect. I’ll wear a red vest, so you’ll know me.”

  Lucy had to stifle a smile. No matter what Winnie wore, the crowd would soon pick her out as a stranger. “Oh, that would be perfect. I’ll watch out for you and introduce you to everyone.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait, Lucy. I’ve been praying something would turn up, and it sounds like maybe this is the answer.”

  “Yes. Maybe, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Lucy hung up, a Cheshire cat grin on her face. If Winnie’s voice was anything to go by, she would be an answer to Lucy’s prayer as well. She tried to rein herself in a little, but then she remembered that Sal had already had a look at the woman, and if there had been anything shady about Winnie, Sal would have binned her details instead of passing them on to Lucy.

  Whistling, Lucy went into the kitchen to bake more cookies. It was her happy activity.

  An hour or so later, Lucy’s door opened unexpectedly, and she whirled to see her sister, Tina, standing there, holding her baby girl, Leslie.

  “Oooh, will you just look who’s here?” Lucy squealed, as she held her arms out to take the toddler. Picking up a cookie, she carried them both into the living room. Lucy began peeling off Leslie’s little coat and glanced up to see Tina standing in the doorway.

  “What am I? Chopped liver?” her sister asked, sounding put out by her lack of attention.

  “Oh, you’re silly. Jealous of your own daughter. Come here and give me a quick kiss before we get cookie smeared.”

  “I’ll pass, at least on the kiss. The cookies, though, are something different altogether.”

  Tina flopped onto the sofa. “What’s new with you?”

  “Is that code for how much have I written on the book?”

  “Your words, not mine. You kind of set yourself up for that, you know.”

  “I know, I know. I should have done it quietly. And if it’d turned out to be a success, I could’ve bought a mansion and let people wonder where my wealth came from.”

  “Now that sounds like a plot for a book. What’s yours about?” She made a silly face at Leslie. Leslie reached out her fat little arms for her mommy and began to cry. Tina chuckled and scooped her daughter up, holding up another cookie in her hand.

  “That wasn’t fair,” Lucy protested.

  “Which tells me you don’t have a plot because you’re changing the subject.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “Oh, c’mon, it’s me, remember? The person who shared so many secrets with you in our room at night.” That was a long time ago, things are different between us now.

  “Okay, so I don’t have just one idea nailed down yet. I’ve been trying out different plots.”

  “Boy, you do have it bad. Is it that writer’s block?”

  “I wish people would quit asking me that.”

  Tina giggled. “Just admit it.”

  “I’ll do no such thing. That would be far too humiliating.”

  “For whom? You? Lucy, you’re a grown woman. Haven’t you learned by now not to worry about what other people think of you? Just be yourself. They’re not thinking about you anyway. You think Cecilia James lies awake at night worrying about what you wore or whether you got a first chapter written? Heck no. She’s far too busy worrying about whether that cocker she rescued has the mange. Your problems are insignificant in comparison.”

  “When did you get so mature? And maybe just a tad cynical?”

  “I don’t know.” Tina shrugged. “I guess motherhood does that to you. Things seem to sort themselves out into different priorities.”

  “Will you go back to work now that she’s just started crawling?”

  Tina sighed. “I don’t want to, but I probably will or should I say have to. Kids cost money. I just feel bad about missing her big milestones, you know?”

  “I think every mother feels that way. Someday, I hope I will.”

  “Aww… cheer up. You can get that hunk of a cop to marry you and still have kids.”

  “No comment.”

  “What? Why? Has he asked?” Tina sat up straight, excitement brimming in her features.

  “No, no, nothing like that.”

  “Too bad.” Tina munched the cookie and let the baby suck on a corner of it. “What’s that neighbor of yours up to?”

  “Who? What do you mean?” Lucy leaped off the couch and looked out the window next to her desk. She saw Marnie shaking rugs out the window.

  “Oh, that’s Marnie. I guess she’s cleaning the house. Thank goodness,” she muttered.

  “Why doesn’t she just shake them out in the yard so the dust doesn’t blow back at her.”

  “She’s agoraphobic.”

  “She’s what? A-gor-phobic?”

  “Agoraphobic. Translated from Latin, it means a fear of open spaces. She likes to stay inside her house and has a problem mixing with other people.”

  “Wow, that would be boring.”

  “I suppose, for someone like you or me. But in her case, it keeps her calm. She’s prone to panic attacks.”

  “Oh, how sad. Why did you say, ‘thank goodness’ about her cleaning?”

  “I shouldn’t talk about her. She can’t help it. It’s just that when I paid her a visit the other day, I found out she’s a hoarder. Not horrible, not like garbage or dirty adult diapers. Just a collector whose collection has outgrown the closets and spare bedrooms. There were stacks of items piled high in her hallway.”

  “No kidding? Wonder if she’d let me look around. I bet there would be some bargains to be had amongst that lot.”

  “Tina, no! She’s not collecting to sell—it’s the opposite. She doesn’t want to part with the things she has. It’s an anxiety-related condition.”

  Tina groaned. “You sure know a lot about it.”

  “I’ve been doing a little research on the subject. I feel sorry for her and want to understand her condition so I can be of some help. As a matter of fact, tomorrow, I’m interviewing someone who’s looking to swap room and board for being a companion. I think it would be good for her.”

  “Listen to you, the expert, just because you’ve read a few articles.”

  Her sister was trying Lucy’s patience. “I wish you wouldn’t be so catty. Geesh. No, I’m not an expert and that’s why I asked to meet this woman down at Sal’s so the whole group could meet her and then we could all compare notes. After all, Marnie isn’t crazy about having strangers in her house.”

  “This all sounds very complicated and like a lot of bother. Just give your Marnie a new hair style and she’ll want to come out. That thing on her head makes her look like some kind of fraulein out of The Sound of Music.”

  “Too bad motherhood didn’t give you a little more compassion.”

  They both sat down, and Lucy sensed things were about to get out of hand and they were on the verge of a fight. Finally, it was Tina who broke the silence. “I only stopped by for a minute. You hadn’t seen Leslie in a while. I’d better get going. I have groceries to pick up on the way home.”

  Lucy stood up, tucking her blouse into the waistline of her plaid skirt. “Okay. Thanks for stoppin
g by. It was nice seeing you again. And Leslie is an absolute sweetheart.”

  Tina zipped up the baby’s jacket and stood up to go. They walked back into the kitchen. “All right if I snag a couple more cookies?” she asked, nodding toward the platter of cookies.

  “No, help yourself.”

  “The baby likes them,” Tina explained, making Lucy smile.

  “Bye now,” Lucy shouted, closing the door after them.

  It had been an uneasy, but brief visit. She knew her sister would love for her to offer to babysit Leslie once in a while. Lucy wouldn’t mind if it stayed that way, but knowing Tina the way she did, her sister would soon take advantage and request it to be a regular thing. She doubted if her patience would last, in that case. She appreciated her freedom too much.

  9

  It snowed that night. Deep, luxurious mounds greeted Lucy when she glanced outside after getting out of bed the next morning. She groaned, knowing she’d have to sweep her porch and shovel her drive to get her car out. It wasn’t that she hated the work—more that she hated the cold first thing.

  Lucy fired up the coffee pot, using a new, imported brand of coffee beans that she freshly ground. Within a couple of minutes, the rich scent filled the tiny kitchen as Lucy washed out a dirty coffee cup that was already sitting in the sink. She added her normal teaspoon of sugar and a heavy dollop of whipping cream, stirring it until the swirls dissolved into one rich, light brown color. Holding the cup between her hands for warmth, she leaned over the sink and studied the front yard.

  She reached to pull the zipper up on her robe, but it caught in the lace of her flannel gown and she set the coffee down long enough to work it loose. When she looked back up, there was a man entering her driveway, snow shovel in his hand.