Nothing To Croak About (Silver Hollow Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series Book 3)

by Leighann Dobbs

  Gray looked at him again. “Even after what happened that night at Enid’s?”

  Cutting to the chase, Dex leaned forward and rested his hands on the wrought iron tabletop. “Listen. I know about the paranormal population here in Silver Hollow. I know you and your cousins are a part of it and there’s a lot of magic going on in the area. As long as everyone stays safe and abides by the law, I’m okay with it.”

  Gray’s stern expression wavered, and Dex glimpsed a fleeting loneliness in the guy that matched his own. Hard to believe he’d be lonely when the ladies obviously fawned all over him, but there it was. Not that Dex spent a lot of time thinking about stuff like that, but it did spark his own determination to move things along with Issy.

  He still had no idea how he would keep her safe from all these forces he couldn’t see and didn’t understand, but he’d have to find a way in order for their relationship to deepen. Even if it seemed like Issy was the one protecting him sometimes. That thought didn’t sit well with Dex, but the last thing he wanted was to grow old and even more alone. He craved connection and company, craved a tight-knit family and community like the one Issy shared with her cousins. If the sadness in Gray’s eyes was any indication, maybe they all just wanted to belong.

  Honestly, Dex liked the guy, despite their rocky start and their differences. “Well, if the girls are going over to the mill later, then I guess that leaves the homeless people for me to question. Especially Scott’s girlfriend.”

  “Good luck.” Gray tapped the tabletop again, and Cosmo walked back over to him. “Like I said. When we tried to talk to her, Marcy ran away.”

  “Yeah.” Dex shooed the toad off his plate before tossing his trash in the bin next to him. “Well, she was dating Scott. Then she broke into Adele’s place looking for who knows what. When DeeDee talked with the front desk manager at the motel Linda was staying at, a woman matching Marcy’s description with a striped hoodie was hanging around the motel before Linda was murdered. This girl needs to be questioned, and it needs to happen sooner rather than later.”

  “Agreed.” Gray stood and threw his empty drink cup away. “Hey, whatever happened with the break-in at the funeral home? That whole thing was weird too.”

  “How’d you know about that?”

  Gray shrugged. “News travels fast in the Hollow.”

  “Another loose end I need to tie up.” Dex pushed to his feet as well. “I hate loose ends.”

  “Me too.” Gray grinned. “Unless they’re teased and sprayed and arranged just so. See you around, man.”

  “See ya.” Dex raised his hand as Gray walked away then pulled his buzzing phone from his pocket. A new text from his landlord flashed on-screen.

  Open to cancelling 6 mo term

  He hadn’t expected to change his plans about staying in Silver Hollow so soon after arriving, but sometimes things just don’t turn out like you planned.

  20

  “Do you have the chocolates?” Issy asked as she and Ember walked up the front steps to the entrance of Holland Mills. The afternoon sun glinted off the large golden letters above the door, and the warm earth-toned brick façade all but screamed wealth and privilege. Issy double-checked her hair in the shiny brass dedication plaque beside the glass front doors, wondering again if she should’ve changed before coming here.

  Ember, of course, looked lovely as always in her dark-brown wool circle skirt and matching russet-colored cashmere sweater. How her cousin managed to look so good and stay so serene while working in a hot kitchen all day, Issy would never know. Even magic had its limits. Heck, most days Issy felt lucky just to stay one step ahead of the constant influx of animals into and out of her busy shop.

  “Got the candy right here,” Ember said, smoothing a hand down the front of her perfectly pressed skirt. “Ready to go inside? If I remember correctly, Gladys’s desk should be straight ahead through the lobby.”

  Issy nodded, and they proceeded up to the top of the steps, where a uniformed security guard let them into the airy expanse of the lobby atrium. Sunlight filtered through the air, and lush tropical plants of all descriptions from Raine’s greenhouse thrived in the temperature-controlled environment. Their heels clacked on the gleaming tile floor as they walked toward a large, modern oak receptionist desk. The woman behind it was small and wrinkled and looked like some fantasy version of everyone’s favorite grandmother. Her silver-white hair sparkled in the bright sunshine, and her blue eyes were shining and alert behind her horn-rimmed glasses. Gladys Morestein might be pushing one hundred years old, but her mind and memory were still sharp as tacks.

  A large white banner above Gladys’s desk proclaimed the hundredth anniversary of Holland Mills, and off to one side were life-sized cardboard cutouts of Troy Holland and Len Childs glad-handing with local civic leaders and charity organizations beneath the headline, “Holland Mills: Giving Back to the Silver Hollow Community.”

  There were also posters scattered about, showing Troy and Len volunteering in various locations—senior citizen centers and branch campuses of New Hampshire’s colleges, where Holland Mills offered scholarships and internships to disadvantaged students.

  “My stars!” Gladys said, lowering her glasses down her nose to stare at Issy and Ember over the top. “If it isn’t the Quinn girls. Why, it’s been at least three years since I’ve seen you both. To what do I owe this honor, ladies?”

  “Hello, Gladys,” Ember said, sliding the box of enchanted chocolates discreetly onto the counter. “We were in the area and thought we’d stop by to say hello. I happened to have a batch of these fresh candies in my car and figured I’d share some with you to celebrate your employer’s success.”

  “Yes, Holland Mills does a lot of good around here.” Gladys beamed proudly.

  “And is good to their employees,” Issy said. “You know, giving out vacations and monthly prizes.”

  Gladys frowned. “Well, I did win a turkey at Thanksgiving last year, but I never got a vacation.”

  Ember elbowed Issy in the ribs. She got the message. Maybe the vacations didn’t extend to receptionists.

  “It’s just nice to get anything extra, isn’t it?” Issy said.

  “Oh yes.” Gladys nodded. “And what about you, young lady? How are things at Enchanted Pets?”

  “Good, thank you, Ms. Morestein.” Issy gave the older woman a polite smile.

  Gladys harrumphed. “Nonsense. I’ve known you and your families since you were both in diapers. You call me Gladys.”

  “Okay, Gladys,” Issy said, her smile widening.

  “Let me just try one of these chocolates, then,” Gladys said, opening the box Ember had set in front of her. “Oh, caramels. These are my favorites.”

  Issy exchanged a look with Ember as the older lady devoured three of the candies right in a row. Hopefully, they wouldn’t cause the same belching problem they had with the spell Ember had used at Enid’s a while back. Issy didn’t think burping would be tolerated in the pristine confines of the Holland Mills lobby, no matter how philanthropic they pretended to be.

  “So, Gladys,” Ember said, giving Issy a wink. “We wanted to ask you about a former employee here at the mill. A man by the name of Jerry Blaisdale.”

  Gladys paused midbite of her fourth caramel and stared at Ember for a moment. Issy’s pulse quickened as the seconds seemed to tick by more slowly. Was Gladys on to their little spell? Would she toss them out on the street? Call security? Maybe even the police?

  Heat skittered up from beneath the turtleneck collar of Issy’s sweater to storm her cheeks. If Gladys called Owen’s office, that would mean Dex would find out where they were, since he apparently assisted on all their cases now. She’d die of embarrassment. She’d have to stay clear of him after their kiss this morning. She’d…

  “Oh, yes. Jerry. I remember him well. Nice, nice man.” Gladys grinned, shoving the rest of the candy in her mouth. “A bit quirky. I remember things would break whenever he was around.”

  “
Yes.” Ember nodded and nudged Issy in the side, giving her a some-help-here-would-be-appreciated look. “That’s Jerry.”

  “Gladys, I’ve heard your memory is exemplary,” Issy said, her courage growing as the older lady popped another chocolate out of the box. “Do you happen to recall if he took any time off about ten years ago to go on spring break with a group of college kids?”

  “Hmm.” Gladys frowned, seeming to consider this deeply. “When you mention spring break, the first thing that comes to mind is that horrible murder that nice Scott Brundage was accused of down in Florida. Terrible, terrible thing that.”

  “Yes, it was awful.” Issy glanced sideways at Ember. “What else do you remember about that time, Gladys?”

  “Well, I’ll tell you.” The older lady leaned forward, her expression serious. “The elder Mr. Holland, Troy’s father, was pretty darned upset about that whole episode. He didn’t like his family name or business linked to that kind of scandal. I remember him telling Troy he’d never become president of the company if he was linked to such a salacious event.” Gladys shook her head and sat back, her thin arms crossed. “Even refused to let the poor boy see Scott after that. They’d been close friends too. Of course, Troy was always so softhearted. He found ways to help Scott behind his father’s back. Not that Troy and his father still didn’t get into it something fierce sometimes. They tried to keep those fights behind closed doors, but in a place like this, the walls have ears.”

  “Was Jerry around during these fights?” Issy asked.

  “Sure. But I’m telling you Jerry couldn’t have had anything to do with that scandal. In fact, you asked if he took time off over spring break that year. And no, he didn’t. He was here at the mill that whole time, helping with the internships. He didn’t go on vacation until afterwards.”

  Ember nudged Issy again then walked with her over to a wall of photos behind Gladys’s desk. “Are these pictures of the Holland family?”

  Gladys stood and joined them, pointing to one particular photo. “Yes. See this photo right here? That’s Jerry right there, with that summer’s seven internship recipients—John, Max, Sally, Jane, Bob, Neal, and Carol.”

  “Wow!” Issy smiled down at the shorter woman. “I’m impressed you still remember all their names. I have trouble remembering what I ate for breakfast some days.”

  “Oh.” Gladys gave Issy a coy wink. “I remember all sorts of things, ladies.”

  “I bet you do.” Ember grinned.

  The sound of a car screeching to a halt outside the front entrance had the trio swiveling toward the glass doors. Issy recognized Troy’s black Cadillac idling at the curb and grabbed Ember’s forearm. “We should be going.”

  “Oh, not yet,” Gladys said, her tone disappointed. “We were having such a nice visit.”

  Len got out of the driver’s side of the car, and from the grim expression on his face, he was anything but pleased.

  “Don’t pay any attention to Len,” Gladys said, as if reading Issy’s thoughts. “He’s here for Troy anyway. Such a nice boy. Close as a brother to young Mr. Holland.”

  Len stopped at the security guard.

  “That dumpster out there is overflowing and needs to be emptied today,” Len said to the guard, his tone uncertain, as if he wasn’t comfortable with giving orders. “Mr. Holland is not going to be happy. He was very clear about it being emptied on time this week.”

  “I made the call already, sir.” The guard looked stricken. “I’m sorry it’s such a mess, Mr. Childs. I do stay on top of the trash removal, but when I arrived this morning the garbage was strewn everywhere across the parking lot. My guess is those darn homeless folks were here foraging for stuff again.” The guard shook his head. “Not to mention all those toads. They’ve taken up residence under the dumpster, which makes it harder for the trash collector to get the truck into proper position. Plus, they won’t pick up the refuse unless everything’s inside, so that’s why they didn’t do their usual pickup this morning. I had to gather all the garbage myself and get it back inside. They promised me they’ll be back out this afternoon to take care of it, sir.”

  Len hung his head. Was he afraid of repercussions from Troy? Issy didn’t remember much about him, but if he was anything like his father he might toe a hard line.

  Len sighed. “Fine. These homeless people are becoming a nuisance. If you catch them out there again, call the police before Mr. Holland finds out they are getting in there. We don’t want him to think we’re not on top of things.”

  “Yes, sir,” the guard said before scurrying back to his post at the front doors.

  Turning to face them at last, Len looked genuinely surprised to see the three women staring back at him, as if he just now realized he wasn’t alone. “Hello, Gladys. And two of the lovely Quinn cousins.” He smiled. “What a pleasant surprise to see you this afternoon. To what do I owe this honor?”

  “We were just in the area,” Ember said, smiling a bit too brightly. “Thought we’d stop by and say hello to my old friend, Gladys.”

  “Yes, Gladys is a treasure, isn’t she?” Len put his arm around the elderly receptionist. “She’s become a part of our history here at Holland Mills. We couldn’t do it without her.”

  Gladys blushed and swatted the younger man on the chest. “Flatterer.”

  Issy remembered the poor homeless people she’d met a few nights prior. They’d seemed nice and so proud of their dumpster finds. “Len, forgive me, but I heard what you said to that security guard. Please don’t go too hard on the homeless for going through your trash. Most of them are good people who’ve fallen on bad times. They don’t mean to hurt anyone, and isn’t it better to have your old things put to good use than thrown away?”

  “I’m all for helping the needy, Miss Quinn.” Len scoffed. “But these people—”

  “These people what?” Troy stepped off the elevators and headed across the lobby to where their group stood. “Issy and Ember, it’s so good to see you.” He shook their hands and seemed genuinely glad to have them there. “I’m so sorry to rush off, but Len and I are late for a meeting. Perhaps we can set up time to all go out for dinner, catch up on the old times, eh?”

  “Sure,” Issy mumbled as Troy and Len waved a hasty goodbye then fled back out the front doors and took off in the Cadillac. She blinked at the doors for several seconds before turning back to Gladys at last. “We need to be going too.”

  Gladys sighed and took a seat behind her desk once more, closing the box of chocolates and hiding the remainder in her desk drawer. “Fine. You young folks are all so busy these days. Well, you ladies have a great rest of your day and don’t be strangers, you hear?”

  “We hear.” Ember waved to her old friend, as did Issy, then they headed back outside to the parking lot where Brown Betty sat at the end of a row of deserted spaces.

  “I’m not sure if I should feel relieved or disappointed Jerry’s not the killer,” Issy said, once she and Ember were settled inside the truck.

  “Look at it this way.” Ember buckled her seat belt. “We now have one suspect crossed off the list.”

  “True.” Issy slid on her sunglasses then pulled out of the parking lot. “But that means our killer is still on the loose.”

  “Hopefully there won’t be a next victim.” Ember shuddered.

  “I don’t know about that.” Issy cranked up the heat. “What I do know is we need to follow up on our last lead—finding Marcy and figuring out what she was doing in Adele’s house the other night.”

  21

  “Huh. Says here that Sarah Landers’s body wasn’t found right away,” DeeDee said as she pulled more papers off the fax machine near her desk in the sheriff’s office. “These eyewitness accounts seem a bit fuzzy too.”

  Dex snorted and settled back in his chair. After leaving The Main Squeeze, he’d bitten the bullet and headed back to the municipal building. He’d requested to be part of all these cases, and now he needed to do the job, even if the day was nice and
he’d rather be at home with Gordon. Or better still, with Issy. He shook his head and focused on the case at hand. “Well, it was spring break. Most of those kids were probably drunk.”

  “True enough.” Owen’s rolling chair squeaked beneath his weight as he propped his feet up, leaned back, and grinned. “Anything else in all those faxes from Florida?”

  “Nope.” DeeDee straightened the stack of documents in her hand. “No new clues at all in what they’ve sent us so far.”

  Owen shifted in his seat. “Man. We need to catch a break here pretty soon. Right now, we’ve got two murders to solve. People around here are getting antsy for answers.”

  Dex glanced over the papers to the case information they had pinned to the cork board. So far all they had to go on were pictures of the murder scene. They had few leads and not many suspects. A familiar twinge of guilt pinched his gut.

  Maybe Linda Brewer was right about her sister’s murder. There hadn’t been enough evidence against Scott for a guilty verdict. And the facts that Linda was murdered while looking into that old case and Adele—the accused’s mother—found beaten in her home were no coincidence. It all had to be related.

  If he could solve all three cases, maybe he could redeem himself for bungling that kidnapping case all those years ago. It was a long shot, but the only shot he had available at this point. He thumbed through the pages of witness testimony DeeDee handed him, frowning. “Something still seems off about these statements, though, drunk or not. I wonder if somebody paid these people off.”

  “Paid them to commit perjury, you mean?” Owen nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Could be. Hard to prove, though, this far out. That was ten years ago, and gathering bank statements from way back then for all those witnesses would be near impossible at this point.”

  “I can call our IT guy and see, if you want, boss,” DeeDee offered.

  “Sure, why not?” Owen clasped his hands behind his head. “Can’t hurt to see.”