I Scream, You Scream (A Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Book 2) (Willow Crier Cozy Mysteries)

by Lilly York

  “Yeah? Oh, Hi Steve. Yes, I know. You’re gonna want to see this.” She paused for a second. “I’m at Gloria’s. Mmhmm. I’ll still be here.” She pocketed her phone. “He’s on his way.”

  “Can I go? I’ll walk back.”

  Willow sighed. “Fine. Go.”

  Embry didn’t have to be told twice. She took off through the back door and didn’t look back. Willow was standing in front of the stalker wall of shame when Steve arrived.

  “What in the world do you think you’re doing?”

  “Listening to my gut.”

  “Your gut is going to get you into trouble, you know that, right?”

  He handed her the picture of Mary Jo. Willow compared the picture to the woman working in her shop. She had dyed her hair and was definitely wearing more make up, but there was no question. Gloria was Mary Jo.

  “Good thing I got a warrant after taking a look at this picture. And I’m glad you didn’t drag me along with you.” He looked around. “Where did Embry go?”

  “She thought you were going to put her in jail.”

  He smirked. “I should put you in jail.”

  “Oh come on. You should be thanking me. Without me you wouldn’t even know who Mary Jo is.”

  “Give me a little credit, huh? I did manage to solve a few crimes before you became the resident professional sleuth.”

  She smirked. “Steve, look at this.” She was still scrutinizing the wall of shame. “Looks like Ms. Mary Jo was our intruder at Mr. Rune’s house. She has tacked burnt manuscript pages on her wall.” She swallowed hard and pointed to the briefs hanging by a push pin. “I guess we now know why she was going through his underwear drawer. Thank goodness she didn’t find his journal.”

  A police officer was taking pictures of the wall so Willow stepped backward, producing a pronounced creak in the floorboards. She raised her eyebrows then dropped to her knees. Sure enough, the floorboard was loose.

  Steve motioned for another police officer, with gloves on, to check it out.

  The officer pulled a clear plastic storage bag from the floor. Inside was Mary Jo’s driver’s license, her social security card, her passport, and her birth certificate.

  “Wow. She really went to long lengths to convince us she is Gloria, didn’t she? I have to say, she looks better in her current state as a brunette. She should keep it that way. Blond aged her too much.” Willow was looking through some pictures, comparing them to Mary Jo’s “Gloria” persona.

  Steve started for the door, leaving the remaining officers to collect the evidence. “I have to get back to the station to question our suspect. I’ll talk with you later.”

  “Don’t you have to pick her up first?”

  “See, there are some things you don’t know. She’s been sitting at the station for the past half hour.”

  “What? That means Janie and the two part timers are there by themselves. Sheesh. I gotta go.” She started for her truck then called over her shoulder. “Call me if you need anything.”

  Willow noticed Embry’s car was missing then guessed correctly she was at the ice cream contest. She hurried through the door.

  Janie called out to her. “We’re fine. A package was delivered for you. It’s on your desk.”

  Willow ducked into her office and located a brown paper wrapped box. It was tied with twine and there was no sender address. Come to think of it, there was no delivery address. Not even a sticky note.

  She cut the twine and unwrapped the package. Inside was a note.

  “Willow, if you are reading this, then something has happened to me. Please safeguard this for me. My agent will be in touch. Regards, Huxley Rune.”

  Chapter 7

  Willow couldn’t believe she was holding the next best seller by Huxley Rune. And why in the world would he send it to her? Wasn’t there someone else he trusted more than her? She barely knew him. And he barely knew her. It made no sense. She looked at the title and her eyes widened. It was the very same title the police chief rescued from the fireplace at Rune’s place, Murder Beneath.

  “What is going on?” She asked aloud.

  She dare not leave the manuscript lying around. Who knows if it was the reason he was murdered. She put the copy in her safe and made sure it was locked before joining Janie and the others in the front. Business was still steady. Not quite out the door, like the morning rush, but all the tables were filled and there were people in line. She couldn’t have asked for more.

  Willow wanted to call Steve and let him know about the manuscript, but she dare not take the chance of anyone overhearing her. She had to wait until she saw him in person, and alone.

  The front door jingled and Gloria or Mary Jo, or whatever she was calling herself these days, walked in.

  “Uh, Gloria. I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

  “Oh, yeah, that was nothing. Just a misunderstanding. I’m scheduled, right?”

  Willow wasn’t sure why Gloria was acting so indifferent. Did she really just call being taken in for questioning on a murder charge, nothing? Weird. “Why don’t we go to my office and talk?”

  Willow shut her office door then turned and faced Gloria. She remained silent, hoping Gloria would offer some sort of explanation without being prompted.

  At first Gloria pretended to be clueless. Finally, she relaxed her shoulders and sighed. “I didn’t kill him. I didn’t. Why would I do that? I loved him. I moved a thousand miles to be near the man.”

  “Unrequited love has been known to drive people to desperate lengths. Perhaps you could no longer take the rejection?”

  Gloria blew her bangs out of her eyes. “Never. I wouldn’t hurt him. Not in a million years.”

  Willow thought about Gloria’s reaction to his death. She truly was horrified and in shock. That wasn’t an act. Then again, what if she had a split personality and had no idea her evil twin killed him? I’ve been watching too many crime shows. The real question is, what do I do about Gloria?

  “Have you been charged with any crime?”

  “No, Police Chief Grice said to make sure I don’t leave the area and I may be charged with breaking and entering. Maybe. But that is all he has on me. Everything else is circumstantial.”

  Willow sighed. “All right then, let’s get back to work. I’m sure Janie could use the help.” She didn’t know what else to do. Her gut was telling her Gloria didn’t kill him. But, it was also telling her Gloria wasn’t altogether innocent either. What else could she do? She couldn’t fire the woman simply because she might have killed Mr. Rune. Stalking on the other hand, well, she needed to talk with Steve. He would provide some much needed insight.

  Embry came through the front door with a shout as Willow and Gloria took their places behind the front counter. “Mom, I took third.”

  Willow grinned. Like mother like daughter. Willow hugged her daughter. “Great job!”

  Embry showed her the certificate. “I think I’ll frame it, like yours.” She laughed. “Maybe I’ll enter next month’s barbecue contest. You’ll have some stiff competition.”

  “Bring it on, little girl.” Willow turned. “Did you go by and let Clover out after the competition?”

  “Of course. She was anxious to get out and dribbled on the floor. I cleaned up after her while she was running around outside.” Embry paused a second. “Mom, you’ve got to do something about her digging holes. Someone is really going to get hurt.”

  Willow rotated her foot a little bit. It was a tender reminder of her own mishap with a Clover hole. Another thing she would have to talk to Steve about. So much to learn. So many things to do. Right now her priority was getting through the rest of the festival. “Yeah, this morning I managed to step in one myself. Twisted my ankle. Would have been horrible to have hurt it today of all days. I walked it off.”

  Willow turned when the bell on the door rang.

  Jasper James was as exuberant as Huxley Rune was private. He entered Willow Tree Ice Cream Shoppe with a huge grin in place. �
��Bet you’re glad you asked me to volunteer instead of old Rune.” He pushed his cowboy hat down a little over his eyes and tried his best to be irresistible, which he did very well. Mr. James wrote westerns and he had a very high opinion of himself, both his writing and his good looks. And he wasn’t too far off, at least in the looks department. Too bad he knew it. Willow had never read anything by him so she wasn’t sure on that account.

  “Hi, Mr. James. What can I help you with?”

  He sauntered over to the counter where Willow was waiting. “Oh, I don’t drink those fancy coffees. I’ll have me a cola then I’ll mosey on over to the round pen for the ropin’ contest.” He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and widened his stance, his broken-in cowboy boots jingled as he moved. “I got me a whole passel of kiddos wantin’ to rope them up a lil’ dogie.”

  “We don’t carry regular coke. But, we do have root beer which we use in our homemade ice cream floats. Would you like a frosty mug of that instead?”

  “No, I’m not hankerin’ for a root beer. How about I have a pistachio milkshake then.” He leaned his back against the counter and looked around the room at his adoring fans. His moment of being the center of attention had passed and everyone was back in their own little world. He turned back to Willow with the corners of his mouth turned slightly downward.

  She handed him his milkshake and watched him guzzle it down in one long breath. Was it public knowledge that Mr. Rune was found sitting on pistachio ice cream? She didn’t think so.

  “That was mighty fine. I thank ye.” He turned and sauntered out the way he came in. Janie stood next to her. “Now there’s a view.”

  Chapter 8

  The next morning Willow tried to sleep in, only to be woken by a wet tongue in her ear. “Ew. Clover. Really? Do you know what time it is?”

  She blinked hard to clear the sleep from her eyes and picked up the alarm clock to bring it closer. Might be time to get reading glasses. “It’s 8:30, Clover. That’s not sleeping in.” She rolled over and screamed in her pillow. “Fine. But after you go, I’m going back to bed!”

  Willow grudgingly let Clover out and ran for the bathroom. Getting older had its issues. Just the idea of going made her want to go, even if she didn’t really have to. “Wonder if I could have one of those doggie doors installed.” She muttered to herself as she watched her dog run around outside for her morning constitutional. She let the dog in then climbed back into bed. She needed more sleep. Willow’s eyes popped open when her phone started buzzing. She had purposefully put it on vibrate hoping the annoying sounds emanating from the little device would be silenced while she caught up on some much needed sleep. She should have stuck it between some towels in the linen closet. The darn thing! The caller left a voice mail. She’d check later.

  Willow snuggled deep into her pillow just as the phone vibrated again. Ugh!

  “What?” She asked without looking at who was calling.

  It was Janie. “You better get down here.”

  “Can’t it wait? Sheesh. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

  “This won’t wait. Trust me.”

  Willow muttered as she pulled a pair of jeans on. “Seeing my second dead body in three weeks makes a girl tired. All I want is sleep.” She checked Clover’s water and food dish, ran a toothbrush over her teeth, a hairbrush through her hair then grabbed her keys and ran for the truck. Half way there, she fell in a hole. “Gosh darn it, Clover. This has got to stop!”

  Willow’s jaw dropped as she pulled into the parking lot of the ice cream shop. The festival is over, where did all these people come from?

  She hustled in the back door and called out to Janie. “What in the world is going on?”

  Janie answered, not caring if anyone in the seating area heard her. “One news team and a whole lot of groupies. Apparently our writer in demise had quite the following. Word got out. Willow Tree Ice Cream Shoppe could become world famous. The murder is trending on Twitter.”

  Willow knew of Twitter, but didn’t really understand it. “What does that mean?”

  Janie explained it. “Hashtag is the pound sign symbol. It’s used in front of a phrase that is being commonly talked about in the world. Things like, #Rune in ruins, #Mystery writer dead, and on and on it goes. It means people all over the world are talking about Huxley Rune being the subject of one of his own books. And your ice cream shop is smack dab in the middle of all the talk.” She gestured around her. “Which is why the shop is packed and you need to put on an apron and help.”

  Willow quickly put an apron on and started taking orders. By the time 8 pm came, she was dead on her feet. One part timer was scheduled so the three of them worked straight through with no breaks. She hobbled on sore feet to her truck. Steve was leaning against the hood.

  “I couldn’t even get in the door. What was going on?”

  She explained then shrugged her shoulders.

  Steve smiled. He valued this woman’s friendship. She was clearly exhausted. Probably hungry too. “You want to get something to eat?”

  “I’m not sure which is winning, exhaustion or hunger.”

  “It’ll do you good to sit down and relax. Wanna get something light at Molly’s?” Sensing her propensity to decline, he threw in “And I can give you an update on the coroner’s report.”

  Molly greeted them at the door. “Well, ain’t you two a sight for sore eyes?” She held the door open. “Come on in. Honey, I heard you had quite the spectacle of onlookers.” She led them to an open table. “Did you ever get the chance to sit a spell? I bet you could eat the north end of a south-bound polecat. Let me get you fixed up.” And off she went without asking either one of them what they wanted.

  “I don’t think I’m ever gonna understand that woman.” Willow cocked her head in thought. “Did she just say I was hungry enough to eat a polecat’s bottom?”

  “Oh, give it time. You’ll catch on. And yes, that is what she referenced.” He laughed then picked up the menu even though he doubted he would need it.

  A few minutes later, one of the waitresses brought out two large glasses of ice tea, two steaming bowls of corn chowder topped with bacon and grated cheddar cheese, and a basket of bread.

  Willow lifted her spoon and lightly blew on the hot concoction. “She sure can cook.”

  Steve buttered the warm bread. “I’ll second that.”

  “I’m glad she is the one running the cook-offs or I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. I’ve tasted some mighty fine offerings from your neck of the woods.” He ate a chunk of bread dipped in the soup.

  “Okay, I’m all ears. Tell me what you have.”

  “Well, for starters, Mr. Rune froze to death. He was hit over the head and must have been placed in the walk in while unconscious. He probably woke up and sat down on the bucket of ice cream and froze in place. It’s a wonder no one heard him. The interesting part is, he died just like one of the victims in one of his books. Not at an ice cream festival, mind you, but in a walk in freezer for a restaurant. The murderer has to be fan. It’s not looking good for Gloria.”

  Willow nodded. “And as thin and wiry as he was, it wouldn’t have taken a muscle man to drag him to the freezer. He couldn’t have weighed 125 pounds soaking wet. Which means any one of our suspects could have done it. Even the ones who pretended they had no idea they knew him, which means Vick.” She took the last bite of soup and rubbed her stomach. “That was delicious.”

  Their waitress removed the soup bowls just as Molly appeared with their meals.

  “Molly, the soup was plenty.”

  Steve grimaced. “Speak for yourself.” He took the plate of hot roast beef and held it close to his nose. “Oh, Molly. You’re gonna have to wheel me out of here.”

  Willow bit into her roast beef and sighed. “I guess I was hungrier than I thought.” She polished off the plate of tender beef and creamy mashed potatoes as though she hadn’t eaten in a month of Sundays. Her eye lids were begin
ning to feel like the loaves of banana bread her part timer tried to make. Lead. Pure lead.

  “Steve, I gotta get home before I drop right here.”

  “I’ll drive you. We’ll leave your truck at the shop and I’ll pick you up in the morning. As tired as you are, you shouldn’t be driving anyway.”

  She nodded. Not because she wanted to be dependent upon him for a ride, but because she couldn’t argue. He was right. She just might fall asleep at the wheel and that wouldn’t be good for anyone.

  The next morning, Steve dropped Willow off at the front door of her shop then proceeded to the police station. As he walked in the station, the phone was ringing.

  “Chief, it’s Willow on the phone. You better get on back to the shop. Looks like someone gave her truck a new paint job.”

  Steve found Willow staring at the words written across the windshield of her truck. You have something of mine was brushed on the glass with pistachio green paint.

  Chapter 9

  “You have something of mine. I wonder what that means.”

  “I’m guessing Rune’s latest manuscript.”

  Steve turned to look at her. “You have Huxley Rune’s latest manuscript? When were you going to share this little bit of knowledge or did you think it wasn’t important?”

  Willow closed her eyes. “I forgot. I’m sorry. It was so hectic and I put it in my safe and just completely forgot about it. I swear. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

  Steve took Willow by the shoulders. “Look at me. It’s looking more and more like Huxley Rune was killed because of this manuscript. Merely having it puts you in imminent danger. As well as your employees. And your daughter.” He figured that last statement would get her attention.

  Embry, her morning help, chose that moment to pull into the parking lot.

  Willow took one look at her daughter and started crying. Blubbering was more like it. All over the man. He was one snotty mess by the time she captured her emotions.