"Brett, I can't take this. It’s like they’re expecting a press conference or something."
She had been kidding. What she'd really wanted was for him to make some kind of announcement, but instead his eyes lit up like high beams.
"Great idea, Miss. Let me get you set up in the back."
"Brett, wait—"
But he was already gone, and the next customer was waiting to be checked out. Missy smiled pleasantly at Alice Patmore. She had been the school nurse for forty years and had just retired last year. Missy remembered the one time she'd fallen off the jungle gym in third grade and had woken up on the bed in Nurse Patmore's office. Alice had always been so kind.
"Missy, how have you been?" Alice slid a baker's dozen of old mystery novels across the desk for Missy to ring up.
"I've been better." She smiled pleasantly. "But it's nice to see you."
Missy always remembered Alice with grey hair, but now it had turned white. The older woman leaned in while Missy was checking the prices on these books and tallying them.
"I think it was Oliver McCleary."
Missy hit the wrong button on the register, messing up the tally. She'd have to start over.
"Oliver McCleary?"
Alice slowly nodded. "I'm not one to gossip, Missy, but I can't sit by and do nothing. Oliver McCleary did this. I'd be willing to bet my house on it."
Oliver McCleary. He had been a few years behind Missy in school, but he'd already had a reputation for mischief and crime before he'd even entered ninth grade. McCleary had boosted his first car in seventh grade and beat poor Lenny Brewster to a pulp in eighth grade. He was mean, vicious, and almost boastful of his complete disregard for anybody else. Missy knew he'd been up the river for a few years but hadn't known he was back in town.
"Why would Oliver want to hurt Mr. Switzer?"
"Didn't you hear?"
Apparently Missy wasn't hearing much of anything these days. With this being a small town, she thought she was pretty much plugged into everything. Apparently not.
Alice went on. "Albert talked his niece out of marrying the guy."
Missy knew that Switzer had a sister and that she was married to an obscenely rich day trader. She wouldn't have put it past Oliver McCleary to seduce that woman’s daughter in the hopes of leeching off his wealthy in-laws, with an eye toward eventually inheriting a fortune. Also, the cause of death was extremely violent and personal, belying a deep-seeded hatred. She had to admit that Alice might have been right.
Alice shrugged. "I thought you should know, anyway, with your Mom getting arrested."
"Thanks. And actually, she was released this morning."
"Oh." Alice looked like she wanted to ask more. "Well, that's good."
Missy had to start over and re-ring Alice's books. Thirteen mysteries for just under thirty bucks. A pretty good deal. She was just about to ring her next customer, Mort Reed, when Brett stepped into the checkout area and called for everybody's attention.
"Good morning!" He was all smiles as he turned to look everybody in the eye. "At twelve noon, Missy is going to hold a press conference in the reading area. I invite you all to come."
The crowd burst into applause. Missy wanted to crawl under the counter and hide. She wondered briefly why Brett had scheduled the conference for noon, an hour away. But the answer came to her quickly. He wanted the people in the store to browse longer (and be tempted to buy more books) and he also wanted them to text or call their friends about it as well.
She shuddered. Missy hated being the center of attention. She was an okay public speaker, but she didn't enjoy it. And her outfit today was pretty blah, blah, blah, with the exception of her jeans which just didn't fit her right in the hips anymore...
Noreen appeared at her side. "You're going to be great, and we're going to sell every book in this store today."
Chapter Seventeen
At noon, Brett purposely closed the registers and gave people in line little numbered sticky notes so they wouldn't lose their place in the queue. Then he encouraged everybody to come into the back where local authors did readings. Missy followed the herd and could barely walk. Every square inch of the store was occupied. It was like trying to get up from your seats at a baseball game to go to the bathroom, where everybody had to shift and bump and jostle just to give her a few inches to maneuver. Being in a crowd made her think about her hips. More than once she inadvertently bumped into somebody. Before she even reached the podium, her face was on fire.
As Brett opened the meeting, Missy went over in her mind what she wanted to say. Part of her still couldn't process the fact that this was actually happening. It seemed like half the town had turned out to listen to her. They were so crammed in to the tiny bookstore, she was certain Aaron would go berzerk from a fire safety perspective.
"Missy?"
She realized Brett had turned the floor over to her. He shuffled two steps backward and planted himself on the wall behind the podium he'd set up. Missy took her place and faced the crowd...there were so many people, and half of them had their phones out to take pictures...
...her head got light...
...and was about to faint...
but her hand latched onto the podium and she somehow righted the ship. The room slowly came back into focus.
She gathered herself and tried to calm her racing mind. "As you all know—"
"Can't hear you in the back!" somebody shouted.
"Oh. Sorry. As you all know—”
"We can't hear you from over here!"
Missy looked left and saw twenty people stuffed into the tiny children's section. They were partially blocked by the display separating that section from where Missy stood.
"I can't scream the entire time." Missy remembered to smile. "So you'll just have to do your best."
There was murmuring and before the crowd got out of control, Missy launched into what she'd planned to say. She wanted to get this over as quickly as possible.
"As you all know by now, Albert Switzer was murdered on Saturday morning. I had gone over there to..."
As she looked around, Missy spotted two mean faces: Loretta and Gordon.
"...to purchase an item in his garage sale. I had to make change for the item so I called out to him and knocked on his door. I knew he was home because I'd spoken to him about twenty or thirty minutes before I got there. His dog, Cody, was barking like crazy, and when Mr. Switzer didn't respond, I went inside. I found his body on the floor in the living room and—"
"Ms. DeMeanor?"
Everybody laughed at the pun that was her name. Missy tried to spot the person in the crowd that had interrupted her. It took a moment, but finally she saw the tiny woman with glasses waving her hand around.
"Yes?" Missy asked.
"Ellen Stein, I'm with the Grove City Gazette—"
"You manage the Classifieds!" somebody blurted out, and the crowd reacted with hearty laughter. Missy didn't read the local papers (or any papers, for that matter), but the suggestion was that this Ellen Stein wasn't a real reporter. She immediately felt bad for the woman and decided to answer her questions in earnest.
Ellen had to shout over the laughter. "I'm a reporter with the Gazette. What were you there to buy?"
Missy didn't see the harm in answering that. "An old cabinet."
"Why?"
"I refurbish and repurpose old furniture for sale at local flea markets. I planned to get this piece ready for Saturday's Tri-County fair."
"Your mother was arrested yesterday," Ellen said. "Care to comment?"
"She was released this morning."
"Why did the police release her so quickly?"
Missy was beginning to not feel that bad for Ellen. "Uh, you'll have to ask Ty—I mean, Officer Brock."
She didn't even know what his official title was.
"Isn't it true that you and Officer Brock were lovers?"
Missy's face scorched. "We were high school sweethearts. What we did as teenagers is no
ne of your business."
Ellen didn't appear the least bit dressed down. "Isn't it true that..."
Ellen continued to talk, but Missy had spotted an interesting face in the crowd: Cooper Merritt.
He was about ten years older than her but kept in good shape. He was tall enough to stand in the very back and have no problem seeing over everybody, which put him a good sight over six feet. Cooper had salt and pepper hair that was just beginning to thin on top. Missy froze in horror as his eyes locked on hers. His expression was inscrutable. She'd never seen him in the bookstore before and assumed the only reason he'd come out was for her impromptu press conference. But why? From what she knew of him, Cooper wasn't the type to be interested in gossip. Most men weren't. His presence seemed odd and was setting off all kinds of alarms in her head. If—
"Ms. DeMeanor?"
Missy's eyes snapped back like a rubber band to Ellen. "Yes?"
There was a ripple of laughter through the crowd at her having been caught not paying attention.
"I asked you about your family's unique history with Albert Switzer and his ex-wife."
How to answer that one? It seemed like the whole town knew more about it than her. Missy took a deep breath.
"That was a long time ago, and to be honest, I didn't even know the details until after Mr. Switzer was dead."
"You expect us to believe—"
"The old prick was a tough son of a bitch, it probably took somebody big to do it."
Missy didn't know what offended her more, the fact that someone had just spoken ill of the dead or the fact that someone had implied she had done it by using the word big.
She scanned the crowd, ready to knock whoever it was down a few pegs. But when she spotted the speaker, her blood ran cold.
Oliver McCleary was standing in the back of the Thriller and Mystery section. Three feet of space had opened up all around him as people tried to distance themselves. Oliver wore all black and had his hood pulled up over his head, casting his mean, wild-eyed face in shadow. He stood unnaturally still while all eyes shifted his way. The hostile and judgmental stares he received did nothing to faze him. It was like he had a social force field.
“Yeah, whoever did it had to be able to throw their weight around.” He smiled, or at least tried to. His face couldn’t seem to make the gesture.
Missy looked him dead in the eye. If she had been alone with him, she would have run in the opposite direction. But with the crowd behind her, Missy figured it was safe to challenge him.
“Where were you Saturday morning, Oliver?”
That alien smile stayed firmly in place as he shrugged. “Sleeping. Friday night was spectacular.”
Might as well interrogate him while she had a roomful of people to back her. “Can anybody confirm that?”
“Yeah, two somebodies, both of them women.”
Missy almost threw up in her mouth at the thought of McCleary spending an evening with two women. Come to think of it, one would have given her the same reaction. Why were women drawn to sleaze like Oliver McCleary?
“How’d you kill that old bastard?” he asked. “Sit on him?”
Missy felt all eyes in the room. They were looking at her plus-sized body. It had been a long time since she’d been this embarrassed and actually wanted to die of shame, probably not since middle school when Abby Pualwan had told all the boys what size underwear she wore.
She wanted to run out of the bookstore. Everybody was looking at her.
But she couldn’t run away. She was a grown woman and she’d done a lot more with her life than Oliver McCleary had. Who was he?
“McCleary, how old are you? Eleven? Are you seriously still making fun of people about their weight?”
“I wasn’t joking,” he said. “I was being serious.”
“McCleary.”
Tyler made his way through the crowd. “I think it’s time you left.”
McCleary faced him and the smirk turned into something dangerous. “I’m just here for the press conference, pig.”
The insult landed harmlessly on Tyler. He’d probably been called a lot worse in Philadelphia. “Come on.”
McCleary slapped his hand away. “I’m allowed to be here.”
Tyler’s body language changed. He got a little lower and assumed an aggressive posture. It reminded her of seeing him all those years ago on the basketball court. If it weren’t for the situation, he would have looked like he was getting ready to catch a pass and make a layup.
“This is private property, and I’ve gotten complaints. Isn’t that right, folks?” Tyler said.
It took a moment, but then all at once everybody chimed in. Brett asked Tyler if he could remove McCleary from the store, and it was all the justification that Tyler needed.
“Out,” Tyler said.
McCleary shouldered Tyler on his way out. The crowd parted for him quickly as he stormed out of the bookstore.
Missy had never been so happy to see Tyler. Though she felt like she could have handled the situation by herself, she was still grateful for his intervention. McCleary was off, and there was no telling what might have happened if he’d been allowed to go unchecked. The crowd was mostly stay-at-home moms or retirees, and Brett wasn’t very physically imposing. Yes, without Tyler here, McCleary could have done anything.
Once McCleary was out of the bookstore, Tyler took his eyes off the door and turned to Missy. She flashed a grateful smile at him, her knight in shining armor. And she didn’t care if everybody knew how safe he’d made her feel. They were already gossiping about the two of them, so who cared?
“Thank y—” she started to say.
Tyler cut her off. “This press conference is over.”
The good feelings of the moment quickly passed. “What?”
“I need to speak to you.” Tyler slogged through the crowd toward her.
“You can’t prohibit me from talking to the press.”
“There aren’t any reporters here!” somebody yelled. Ellen Stein whirled to see who that was, but the culprit had already ducked out the door.
Missy folded her arms as Tyler met her at the podium. “Ever hear of the First Amendment?”
“Damnit, Melissa.” Tyler lowered his voice. “This is a…”
He stopped talking and looked around. Plenty of stragglers were hanging around, not so secretly watching them talk. They were all hoping to get some more gossip. It was times like these Missy hated small towns. Everybody knew everything.
Tyler said, “Is there someplace we can talk in private?”
“You can say what you have to say here.”
He took a deep breath. This was the first time in the last few days she’d seen him lose his cool. It had been a rare occurrence, come to think of it, when they’d dated in high school. Even back then, he’d been unflappable, a smile never far from his face.
“Melissa.” His eyes pleaded with her. “Please.”
She wanted to stick it to him, but then she thought about how he’d taken care of McCleary. She owed him for that.
“Let’s go in Brett’s office.”
Chapter Eighteen
Tyler closed the door as she sat at Brett’s desk. There were no windows in Brett’s office except the one facing the back lot. In other words, nobody in the store could see them so no doubt the rumors were already flying.
“Look,” Missy said. “I really appreciate what you did with McCleary. That guy is a jerk and he creeps me out. But I’m allowed to talk to people.”
“Yes, you’re allowed to talk to people. But I’m asking you not to.”
She sighed. She hadn’t even wanted to do the press conference. That had been Brett’s idea. But now here she was arguing she should be allowed. Sometimes she didn’t even get herself.
No, that wasn’t true. She just didn’t like to be told what to do, even if it was something she didn’t want to do herself. It made a kind of sense.
“Why?”
“Because this is a police inve
stigation.” Tyler leaned on the word police. “It’s better if we control the flow of information, trust me.”
She hadn’t thought about that at all. The press conference had happened so quickly, she hadn’t had time to consider how it might mess things up for Tyler.
She swallowed her pride. “I’m sorry, Ty.”
His face softened and one side of his mouth smiled.
“What?”
“It’s been a long time since you called me Ty.”
She blushed. “Sorry.”
“No.” His face flashed that thousand-watt smile. “It was nice.”
Missy was suddenly aware of how small the room was, of how nobody could see them, of how his uniform pressed against his body and outlined his physique. She took in the V that his shoulders and waist formed.
“Uh…” He blinked first. “I really have to get back to work.”
Before she could stop him, Tyler opened the door and strode out of the bookstore.
***
The rest of the workday was uneventful. Noreen’s shift ended at four and she promised to return by seven armed with a new outfit for Missy so they could go out to Hank’s. In all the day’s excitement, Missy had kind of forgotten about Wing Night and using it as a way to question Cooper Merritt.
By dinner time the crowd had dwindled down to nothing. Brett went in the back to run some numbers on the day’s sales. Without even counting a single sale, Brett already knew it was the best day they’d had in a long time. Missy checked out the last customer and then started re-shelving. Brett had a ton of books in the back and Missy figured he’d need most of them to fill in all this gaping shelf space.
Brett emerged a few minutes later, holding something.
"Listen, Brett, I wanted to talk to you about earlier." Missy had made up her mind to explain to him she hadn't wanted to do a press conference and had felt kind of forced into it because he was her boss.
"Perfect." Brett smiled. "That's just why I was coming out to talk to you."
Brett handed her a wad of money.
"What's this?" Missy completely forgot what she'd been about to say.
"Best day we've had in years." Brett couldn't smile any wider. "Maybe ever. And I know why. People came here because of what you're going through right now. I know how difficult the last few days have been for you, and I wanted to show you my thanks for coming in and fielding those questions."
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