by Molly Dox
Rosie cringed. Leave it to her mother. “Isn’t it a little soon?”
“Oh, lighten up. I’m trying to lift my spirits. We can’t afford for business to stay this slow,” she warned. “If things don’t pick up, we’re going to be in trouble. It’s not like we have a lot of emergency funds tucked away. Things are pretty tight.”
Rosie agreed. “People will come back. Hopefully, sooner than later. I’m going to grab Jeff’s number and give him a shout. He already left for work. I want to see if he’s got anymore news.”
“No hurry,” Libby teased. “I can handle the crowd.”
Rosie slipped through the door that connected their house to the restaurant. Dash greeted her with a meow. “Hey Dash.” She reached down to scratch him behind his ear before picking up her phone. As she scanned through the list of contacts, she found Jeff’s information. She opted to call his personal line over the office number.
Rosie walked to the cabinet and took a small container of cat treats out. She sprinkled a couple on the floor next to Dash, then hit dial on her phone. It went straight to voicemail. She left a brief message, then sat with the cat. She needed to talk to somebody, and Dash was a good listener. Not that he answered, but he did keep her secrets.
“Yeah, I know… You don’t have to point it out. You know, don’t you? You’re perceptive like that. Okay, so I like the guy, that’s true, but I’m not sure the feeling is mutual. It’s not like he’s asked me out. I’m not even sure I’d say yes. Probably not, it’s not worth risking our friendship. I know, it’s been a while since I’ve been on a date, but things are less complicated this way. Mom’s had enough boyfriends for the two of us. Things never end well anyway,” she said.
Dash mewed in response. Rosie ran her fingers through his coat a few times, then got up to wash her hands. Back at the restaurant, she was pleasantly surprised to see customers. Her mother was talking to Myrtle and Gloria.
Myrtle’s voice went down to a whisper. “Well, I heard that there may be more to this than meets the eye. In fact, our very own Sheriff may have dirty hands. He never liked Christopher Banks. Everybody knows it’s true; it’s not like it’s a secret. What if he’s investigating to cover up his own crime? Trying to pin it on somebody else, you know?”
Libby laughed at Myrtle’s latest gossip. “Gary Snyder isn’t smart enough to pull that off.”
Myrtle looked strangely at Libby. “Of course, he is. When you have access to the information, and you’re the one signing the reports, you can write whatever you want, dear. It’s only a crime if you’re caught.”
Rosie joined in the conversation. “What were you saying?”
Gloria’s high-pitched voice overrode the others. “Can I at least put my order in first? I’m starving.”
“Sure,” Libby said. “What can I get for you?”
Myrtle looked annoyed at having been interrupted. She was at her best when she was riding high on the gossip, spilling secrets left and right. “Fine, if we must.”
After taking their orders, Libby went back to the kitchen. Rosie asked Myrtle what she’d heard.
“Well, maybe Gary didn’t do it, but he could be covering up for somebody else, like a mistress, or a friend, or one of the cops. You don’t know! I heard that while one of the witnesses was giving a statement over at Patterson’s, he wasn’t even writing it down. He was simply scribbling on his note pad, like doodling.”
“What?” Gloria corrected her. “No, stick figures, right? He was scribbling people.”
“Doodles, scribbling, stick figures…what difference does it make? Really, Gloria, I hope you’re not as critical when you get food in you. Your grumpy lady is coming out,” Myrtle sniped.
Gloria looked away and shook her head. She bit her tongue so as not to offend Myrtle. You didn’t want to be on Myrtle’s bad side or all your secrets might come flooding out, and Gloria had her own fair share of secrets she’d let go of. Myrtle housed them all.
“Anyway, why wasn’t he taking it seriously? Why wasn’t he writing stuff down? And then when the police showed up…well, I heard that he made a lame excuse, like he was going to call everyone down for official statements over at the Sheriff’s office. If you ask me, something’s fishy.” Myrtle finished, then licked her lips as her stomach growled. “Oh dear, I am hungry.”
Rosie hated that she fell into the gossip with them, but at this point with two dead people, it was fair game. “I talked to Nancy. She was out of town. She’s got a solid alibi, so she’s off the list. I’m going to track down Dora and see if she knows anything. I heard they cleared her. They searched her stuff and there wasn’t a trace of evidence. I have no idea who to even add to my suspect list. I’m still stuck on how they’re connected, but they think it was one person, due to the same poison being used on each.”
Myrtle hushed her voice. “Does that boyfriend of yours know anything?”
Rosie scrunched her face. “Boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You don’t? I always see you talking with that fireman. You know the one, Dr. Tucker,” she added with a wink.
Rosie nervously laughed, taken off guard. Heat rushed to her cheeks. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Oh, well, there’s something I didn’t know. I’d assumed.”
Gloria chimed in. “You know what they say about assuming…”
Myrtle shot Gloria a look. “That’s enough out of you.”
When their food arrived, the women were ready to eat. Rosie left them to their lunch, and followed her mother back into the kitchen. “What do you think of her theory?”
Libby shook her head vigorously as she answered. “Nope, he couldn’t pull it off. There are too many pieces of the puzzle for him to figure it all out and get away with it. Besides, I don’t see him having a strong motive, do you?”
“I guess not. I’ll be honest, after Dora was cleared and Nancy’s alibi cleared her, I don’t know what to think. I’m going to talk to Dora and see if she can clue me into anything. All we’ve got to go on is the food, poison, and not much else. I don’t even know what kind of poison they used. Hopefully, Jeff will know and we can follow that lead. Where does one buy poison? Is it legal? Or do you need access to it?”
“I don’t know, but doctors might have access to poison…”
“Don’t even go there. He’s not a killer!”
Libby agreed. “Keep your mind open to possibilities. You never know. Anyway, since it’s quiet, I’m going to tend to my herbs and garden. Next week I’m going into town to pick up a few more essential oils.”
Rosie nodded. She didn’t get into the homeopathic and natural woo-woo stuff her mother did. It’s not that she didn’t think it could work, but she was more into scientific answers over – an oil that has transforming presence and things that work with your energy and aura. Her mother had been into homeopathic medicine most of her life. So, when Rosie got a cold, she was given elixirs of herbal teas or she'd be smudged with ‘sacred herbs’ and the such. Her mother was no Native American healer or Australian Indigenous doctor, instead she made her own concoctions based on what felt right to her. Had she studied the art, maybe Rosie would have a better feeling about it. Of course, a simple trip to get cough medicine worked wonders, but her mother would glare at her for taking a horrible man-made drug that would ruin her immune system. They had different ways of looking at medicine.
Chapter 11
Alyssa from the post office invited Libby and Rosie over for dinner. She made a big batch of spaghetti and meatballs, along with toasted garlic bread. She was thinking of transferring to another area and wanted to bat the idea around. Things were quiet and slow in Spring Valley, which made for an easy job, but if she stayed there she might never meet Mr. Right. Not much happened around this way, unless you headed into a college town for a football game, but even those weren't next door.
Alyssa spent most of her life in Spring Valley, except for the first few months, which she didn't remember obviously. Her parents moved
over from Sugar Hollow and settled into a small property with a house and safe yard. A perfect place to raise a kid, well, if you liked nothing going on in your life. As a child, it suited her needs, as a teen she was dreadfully bored, and now as an adult she'd too easily settled into her job. She liked the comfort of home, but if she didn't make a change, this could easily end up where she’d spend her entire life. It's not that she wanted grand things. She simply wanted a little more excitement.
When Libby and Rosie arrived, they brought dessert.
"Smells good," Rosie said as she settled onto the hand-me-down, floral couch.
"Dinner will be ready soon, but while I have your ear, I've been thinking about a change, maybe a relocation." Alyssa paced, more nervous to admit this than she expected.
Libby inquired, "You don't like it here?"
"Of course, I do. It's home. It's -- well, I'm afraid this is all there is here. Nothing ever happens. My biggest excitement is company for dinner, no offense. I feel like I'm in my prime. How am I supposed to meet Mr. Right if there's barely a place to hang out, and there's a lack of husband-worthy men." She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.
Rosie nodded understanding her friend's situation. "Where would you go? Do you have a place in mind, or are you still looking?"
"I've been keeping my eye on job postings. While there are a lot of places to consider, I'm leaning toward Florida. It would be a nice change of pace. I could leave snow and cold weather behind me, and there's tons of stuff to keep me busy. I mean, I'd miss you guys and all, but I'm afraid of becoming an old maid one day." The kitchen timer beeped. Alyssa headed for the kitchen and spoke louder. "What do you think?"
Libby chimed in first. "I think you should explore life. Get out there and find your dream."
Rosie was less enthusiastic. "Do you have enough money saved if things fall through? It would be a transfer right, so you'd have a job in place. Have you considered looking at a small change first? That's a huge jump to an area you don't really know. And there’s a lot of bugs and snakes and humid weather in Florida. Think of your hair."
Libby nudged Rosie. "What are you doing?"
Rosie knew what her mother was getting at. She slouched and leaned back. She cleared her throat and then added, "Again, you don't know if you don't try. I guess you're right. Now is the time to do it before you're tied down and can't make a change."
Libby nodded. She knew Rosie's first response was more about losing her friend.
Rosie felt a twinge of regret. She'd let her own selfish feelings come first. Alyssa was her best friend, and it wasn't like there were a ton of women her age that hung around Spring Valley, for precisely the reasons that Alyssa gave.
Alyssa peeked her head around the opening between the kitchen and living room. "Dinner's ready. Right, and once you and Jeff realize you were made for one another, you'll settle down, have babies and I won't have any single friends left to hang around with."
Rosie's eyes opened wide. "What? Oh my gosh! Why do you say that? You're crazy!"
Libby laughed. Everybody knew the two were simply avoiding the inevitable. Why? Nobody really got it, but they knew time would resolve that and nature would kick in.
After a night of discussion, laughter, and good food, Libby and Rosie said goodnight. It was a nice night to walk home. Mild weather settled into the area after a front pushed through.
As the women made their way down the main drag in town, they heard a voice. It was coming from between two buildings.
Rosie looked to Libby and put her finger to her lips. She stopped walking and leaned in close to the edge of the building. It sounded like a man. He’d chosen an unusual place to be hanging at this time of night, heck at any time of the day.
"How was I supposed to know one from the other?" The man's slurred words spilled out of his mouth. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure the coast was clear and then lowered his voice. "Anyway, the job is done and I want to get paid."
Rosie was certain the voiced belong to Matt Adams, a local business man that came through town time to time on the way to Atlantic City. She was afraid to lean forward and make sure. What if he saw her? She nudged her mother to back-up, and quickly moved with her. In a small whisper she said, "He was talking about not knowing one from the other, and a job is done. Do you think...?"
She held her tongue. Right behind her, shoes scuffed against the ground. Her heart fluttered like a cheetah running full speed. She tried to calm herself, but it was too late. She heard his heavy breathing...and it was getting closer.
He recognized the women right away. He'd frequented "The Breakfast Nook" on more than one occasion. "What are you gals doing out on the town tonight? You looking for a little side action?"
Rosie wanted to barf. Libby's way with men kicked in, and she gave her daughter a look. She turned to Matt and slipped her arm in his. "What did you have in mind?"
"How about a couple of drinks with a lonely man?" He pulled her closer against him.
"I think you've had enough," she noted the whiskey on his breath. "Let's go have a nice, hot cup of coffee."
The hair on the back of Rosemary's neck stood on edge. What was her mother up to?
Chapter 12
Was it possible? Could somebody have hired a hitman? The thought alone messed with Rosie's mind. This was Spring Valley, Pennsylvania -- not Los Angeles, not Chicago, not Miami, and not New York. She could picture it maybe in a bigger city where crime rates soared, but this was a doo-hickey little spot on the map that most people never even heard of. And if they did, it's only because they had to drive through it to get to another place.
Where would one even go to find a hitman? And how would you broach the topic without expecting them to go straight to the police. It was too much to wrap her head around.
And Matt? Was he a hitman on the side? She thought he was a businessman. They'd known him for a while, it's not like there was reason to doubt him. The job was done...and how was I supposed to know one from the other. He was obviously talking to another person. It wasn't as if he'd strategically decided to take out two strangers in a town he barely knew. Was he working for somebody else? But, who?
Rosie shook her head to loosen the marbles that felt stuck. This was insane. A hitman, what a silly thought. She'd obviously been reading too many books and her mind was simply running away with the thought. Her knotted stomach told her things weren’t as they seemed. What she heard wasn't meant for her ears.
He was tucked away in an alcove, talking low. She eavesdropped, and wished she hadn't. How was she to know it would turn into this. On one hand, it could help solve the murders, and on the other it could get her killed playing with the wrong players. She watched her mother get comfortable with Matt. Chills ran up Rosie’s arms.
Were they tempting fate? He'd obviously killed before...or wait, was he talking about something else? Come on, he didn't come out and say it. He simply said there was trouble telling them apart. It could have been anything, like files or cars or buildings. And ‘the job is done’ could mean anything, too.
Rosie laughed, not meaning to do it aloud. The weird noise caught the attention of Libby and Matt.
"What's so funny?" Libby turned toward her daughter.
Rosie swallowed hard. "Oh, nothing. I was thinking about a discussion with Alyssa earlier. Really, it’s nothing."
"Who's Alyssa?" Matt asked, not having heard her name before.
"A friend," Rosie said, guarding her answer. He didn’t need to know about Alyssa. He might very well be trouble.
"What did she say that was so funny?" Matt turned to Rosie suspiciously.
Rosie tried to play it off. She didn’t like being on the spot. "Oh, nothing big. You wouldn't understand."
Libby took Matt's arm again. "Come on big boy, let's get you a cup of coffee."
"What was funny?" Matt asked again. He seemed paranoid and agitated.
Rosie closed her eyes and dug herself out of the conversation. "An inside joke,
nothing that would make sense. We got talking about spaghetti, and started playing with food puns."
Matt shrugged and lost interest. He continued walking with Libby and slipped his arm out of hers so he could wrap it over her shoulder instead. "How about a little company after the coffee?"
Libby grimaced. Great.
Rosie arched an eyebrow. Really? He wasn’t being shy, that’s for sure.
"Oh, hon, if you'd asked me a few weeks ago," Libby answered and nudged his side, relieved that she had an answer. "Truth is, I'm seeing somebody."
Rosie tuned in to see what her mother would pull out of her bag of tricks.
Libby hated admitting a potential commitment. It was probably a mistake. She wanted to keep him close so she could get more information. She quickly changed her wording. "But, now that I think of it, we're not exactly exclusive."
"That's more like it, sugar dumpling," Matt answered. “I’ve got plenty of time tonight.”
Rosie groaned quietly. Sugar dumpling? You've got to be kidding me.
Libby opened the door as they arrived home. She’d make a nice little sleep elixir that should keep him put after they talked. While he was getting sleepy, she hoped he'd slip up and say a few extra details that would help them solve the case.
Before she got there, Matt was busy with his hands, being far too touchy. She sent him on his way instead of risking him getting out of control. Her plan might have worked if she'd done something different. Once Matt realized he wouldn't be nestled in Libby's bed for the night, he wasn’t happy.
The women agreed to talk to the police first thing in the morning...or after they checked one more thing. It couldn't hurt to ask a few more questions, right?
Chapter 13
"Got new information. Will you be around?" Rosie read.
She texted back yes to Jeff.
It was still early. She knew he'd drop by before she had a chance to run to the sheriff's office. With business so slow, she planned on going later in the day. Sure, they'd discussed going first thing in the morning, but business was business and there were bills to pay. So, even if only a few customers showed up, it was money they needed to keep the lights on.