True, she did live in a place where she was constantly surrounded by people. What could possibly go wrong? “Okay, but only for those two nights.”
“And days.” She raised her eyebrows.
I sighed. “And days. You do realize I have a daughter, right?”
“Gertie will be more than happy to watch her for a couple of days.”
True. Mom would like nothing more, and considering the danger to Dottie, I wouldn’t recommend that Mom stay with her instead. I patted Dottie on the shoulder. “We’ll talk more when the day gets closer.”
A few very crude words shot across the lawn. I whirled as Stacy steamrolled toward Darla. Minus her usual daily suit, and not counting her enlarged top half, Stacy could’ve blended in with the teenagers in her skinny jeans and tight tee-shirt. Darla’s date tried to step between them, but Darla shoved him to the side. Stacy slapped her across the face. Darla’s head whipped to the side.
She screamed and lunged, grabbing Stacy’s hair in both hands. Seconds later, the two women rolled on my autumn brown lawn like two wrestlers. Their shrieks were enough to pierce the heavens, their words heated enough to raise hell.
“Call Bruce.” Duane rushed past me. He grabbed Darla around the waist and lifted her off the ground while Leroy did the same to Stacy.
I dug my cell phone out of the pocket of my jeans and called Bruce’s personal number. “Hey, Bruce. We got a fight over here at Lindsey’s party. Can you come take care of it?”
“Did you break them up? I don’t know why you invited every kid in town to your house. That’s a recipe for disaster.”
“This fight is between two of the female adults. Duane and Leroy broke them up, but it looks like one of them might be bleeding.”
“Wish I could have seen that. Be there in five minutes.” Click.
Duane and Leroy forced their charges into lawn chairs and stood guard. Leroy thrust a handkerchief into Stacy’s hands. She held it to her bleeding face.
Teenagers flocked to the scene like children after the candy, when a piñata got busted. Lindsey looked ready to cry. I’d reassure her later that the fight only made her party a huge success. Something her friends would talk about for weeks.
After glaring at the two immature women, I hurried to the front yard to wait for Bruce. Why hadn’t Stacy’s and Darla’s escorts broke them up instead of standing there grinning like fools? What had the two women so at odds with each other? Surely it wasn’t because their younger family members did the tango under the sheets and now have a baby on the way. Unfortunately, lots of teenagers make that mistake too early. There had to be something else at the root of their hatred for each other.
Darla was at least ten years older than Stacy, maybe more. Darla was divorced, Stacy never married. Darla was a newcomer to town, so the chances of Stacy having committed adultery with the other woman’s husband seemed slim. I sat on the top porch step and rested my chin in my hands.
Stacy, Darla, Dottie, Danny…the names whirled in a circle in my head. What was I missing? The first two victims joined the melee. Elderly women living alone. Danny lived with his grandparents. Did Darla live there, too?
No, she couldn’t. Her mother was dead. Died alone in her apartment. Danny lived with his paternal grandparents. My head ached with all the questions. And…what did any of it have to do with the murders?
Bruce pulled into the drive, lights off, thank goodness, and halted my mind spinning. He stepped out of the car, sunglasses on despite it being nine p.m., and marched in my direction. “I don’t hear any screaming.”
“You will.” I stood. “Follow me on back.” Leading the way to where Duane and Leroy still held guard, I realized there were a lot of questions I needed to talk to Bruce about. After all, didn’t he say he could use my help because of short-staffing? Maybe if I put my brain with his, we could actually find some answers.
“Thank God.” Stacy stood and wagged the bloody handkerchief in Bruce’s face. “This witch broke my nose. Do you know how much this nose cost me?”
“She hit me first.” Darla leaped to her feet. “There’re plenty of witnesses to attest to that fact.”
“You’re a liar!” Stacy whirled so fast, her hair stuck in a smear of blood above her lip. I grimaced and turned my head, although I did wish I had my camera.
“Ladies, please.” Bruce pulled out his ever present notebook. “One at a time. Mrs. Quincy, you first.” He peered over his sunglasses at Darla.
She took a deep breath and started talking faster than a home run baseball disappearing over the shortstop’s head. “I was walking with my date…Roy Sims…and this harlot attacked me. Right out in front of God and everybody! Look at my face. I swear there are going to be permanent scars. Why, I ought to—”
“You defamed my little sister’s character!” Stacy stepped so close, her bloody nose almost touched Darla’s. “You and that no-account son of yours. Then, when she needs him the most, you want him to walk away without owning up to his responsibilities. What kind of mother does that?” She grinned. “Oh, yes, I know all about your mother, Darla. Oh yes, I do.”
Darla shrieked and lunged, talons raised. “You leave her out of this!”
Bruce stepped between them, one hand on his Tazer. “Ladies, if you continue this, I’ll have no choice but to take you down.”
I would’ve loved seeing either one of them on the ground, twitching like a worm. When I’d bought my Tazer, the irresistible arc of blue light beckoned my finger, and Duane found me on the porch flopping like a fish. It might be fun to see my nemesis in that predicament.
Darla called Stacy another name not fit for children’s ears, one of the football players laughed, and then the mascot, Timmy Weldon, stepped out of my cottage with a can of lighter fluid in his hand.
“Bonfire anyone?” He held the can above his head.
Bruce frowned. “Son, put that away before I arrest you. You have enough suspicions on your record. Most importantly, why are you out of your house?”
Darla tugged on Bruce’s sleeve. “I’m pressing charges, Officer. For defamation of my dead mother’s name and for assault.”
“You can’t defame a drug addict.” Stacy laughed; the sound cruel. “They do enough damage to themselves. Why don’t you explain to these good people why you don’t live with your son?”
Chapter Nineteen
After Darla knocked Stacy unconscious with a well-placed right hook, leaving the rest of us without the answer to a very intriguing question, Bruce took Darla away in handcuffs, while an ambulance took Stacy. By then, the party was over, and I had a heck of a post for the next gossip column.
Lindsey’s friends left in groups. She plopped in a lawn chair and pouted. “Why can’t we have a normal evening like other people?”
“Lucky, I guess.” I stacked the bowls inside each other, not caring about crushing the chips. They were mostly gone anyway. The buckets of iced soda could wait until morning, but left out food would only attract animals. “But, you’re guaranteed to be the most popular kid in school for a few weeks.”
She scrunched up her mouth, then nodded, a smile spreading across her face. “You’re right. People will fight to come to my next party.”
“Hey, what did I miss?” Lynn, my best, but very late friend, strolled up with a glittery pink gift bag in her hand. “Sorry, I couldn’t make it earlier. Had a meeting at the school, and tons of papers to grade.” She handed the bag to Lindsey. “Happy Sweet Sixteen, sweetheart.”
Lindsey got to her feet and gave Lynn a hug. “Thanks. You should have been here. Two of Mom’s friends got into a fight and the cops were called.”
Technically, Bruce didn’t constitute ‘cops’, and the two women definitely didn’t rank as friends, but Lynn would’ve loved the drama. “I’ll tell you all about it once I get this stuff cleaned up.”
“Can’t wait.” She took the bowls from my hand. “Where’s that hunky man of yours?”
“Off with my hunky man,” Mom said, carry
ing a couple of folding chairs. “They’re out front shooting the bull about tonight’s fiasco when they should be out here doing this.”
Lynn laughed, shoved the bowls back at me, and then took the chairs from Mom. “We’ll get it done faster anyway, then we’ll have time to talk.”
Maybe so, but I’d been looking forward to some snuggle time with Duane while unwinding from the stress of the evening. Oh, well. Girl time with my bestie was the next best thing. She’d been so busy lately, I hadn’t had time to pick her brain on this latest mystery. Other than Duane, she was the smartest person I knew.
By the time we finished cleaning, it was close to eleven p.m and every bone in my body ached. With an ice cold diet soda in my hand and a bowl of M&Ms to share, I plopped into a chair. By this time, Lindsey had disappeared somewhere with her cell phone, and Duane and Leroy had joined the women.
Since they did end up taking down tables and chairs, I offered each of them a drink. The night had cooled considerably, reminding me that fall was on the horizon. Before I could get up to get a blanket, Duane draped a crocheted afghan across my knees. “Thank you.” He was the greatest thing ever.
“Hey, where’s mine?” Lynn tossed her hair and batted her eyelashes. “I’ll be the Maid-of Honor at your wedding. Treat me nice.”
He tossed her one from a stack on an empty chair. “Only Marsha gets special treatment.”
“I’ll have to do something evil to you during wedding preparations.” Lynn grabbed the blanket and spread it across her. “If y’all ever get married, that is.”
“Shut up, Lynn.” I punched her playfully in the shoulder. “I’m working on it.”
“Not fast enough.” Duane peered over his glass of tea. The sparkle left his eyes.
My heart plummeted. Was he getting tired of waiting? Would I, if I were in his shoes? The subject needed changing immediately. I averted my gaze. “So, what do y’all think the answer to Stacy’s question was?”
“I need to know the question first,” Lynn pointed out. “You haven’t told me what happened at the party.” She almost busted a rib laughing as I filled her in on the night’s happenings.
“Shut up and tell me whether you know what Stacy was talking about.” I couldn’t help but laugh with her. In hindsight, it was a humorous evening.
“I’ve heard rumors, but that’s all they are, and I don’t like to gossip.” She tipped her soda can to her mouth.
“It’s not gossip in a situation like this.” I put a hand on her arm. “Someone is trying to kill me.”
“It’s true,” Duane admitted. “We’re not happy about it, but someone definitely tried to shoot Marsha the other night, and she’s worried Dottie only has a week to live.”
“I’m your best friend, and you didn’t tell me someone shot at you?” Lynn widened her eyes.
“Sorry, but I had enough people worrying about me.” It seemed suspicious that Mom sat silently a few feet away not saying anything. Something had to be going through her brain. Her mind was like a computer with too many browser windows left open. “What’s on your mind, Mom?”
“Well, I think I might know what Lynn is going to say, and trying to figure out if I want to spill the information or not. I don’t want to be labeled a gossip any more than she does.”
I gulped my drink in order not to snort. Mom couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. “How did you come by this information?”
“The quilting club. How else? Those women know everything about everybody in this town.”
“Why haven’t you said anything before?” I’d never known her to sit on anything juicy for longer than a day.
“I know I flap my lips more than I should…” She glared at Leroy when he snorted. “But I do make sure the information has some truth to it first. That’s why I haven’t said anything. I haven’t had time to do my research.”
“It’s getting late, Mom.” Despite drooping eyelids, I sat straighter in my chair, eager to hear her news. “Tell me and we can research together.”
“Stacy is correct in saying Darla’s mother was a drug addict. So was Darla, to be honest. She lost custody of her son when Danny was a teenager. When he turned eighteen, he disappeared for a while and lived up in Little Rock somewhere. Him and Darla came to River Valley within a few weeks of each other. No idea why Danny chose to live with his father’s parents, considering his dad left Darla when he was a little boy.” Mom upended her glass, finishing her tea, then set the glass on the grass at her feet.
“You’d think with Darla being so controlling, she would’ve insisted he stay with her.” Mom shrugged. “Anyway, Darla’s mother overdosed. Lay undiscovered for a week before a neighbor noticed the smell.”
What a tragic story. “What’s Stacy’s part in all this? There has to be a reason the two women hate each other. Something more than Amber getting pregnant.”
A mysterious smile flickered at Mom’s mouth. For someone who didn’t want to air someone else’s dirty laundry, she sure seemed to be enjoying herself.
“You’re having fun, aren’t you?” I peered into her face. “How long have you been sitting on this juicy bit of news?”
“Since yesterday.” Mom shrugged. “The women talk, especially as they’re packing up to leave. I guess they don’t think I can hear as well then. Anyway, Darla hates Stacy because Stacy stole her husband right after Stacy graduated high school. Most folks think they might’ve been messing around while she was jail bait, but nothing was proven. Darla’s husband broke up with her because she was too old, his words, not mine, and used the same excuse with Stacy. That’s why she got the plastic surgery, I reckon. It costs a lot of money to stay young.”
Wow. Mom just gave me a lot to decipher. I tilted my can, only to find out it was empty. I didn’t need any more caffeine anyway.
Three people made it to the top of my suspect list. Now to find out a way to figure out which of them was a murderer.
###
After Mom and Leroy went inside and Lynn left to go home, Duane and I moved to my sofa where I snuggled close, putting my head on the spot on his shoulder made just for me. A made-for-television romance played on the TV, but we’d muted the sound, content to just sit in each other’s presence.
“What do I do now?” I wanted him to tell me, guide me, point me in the right direction.
“I think you need to go to Bruce with your suspicions.”
“What if he laughs at me?”
His chest vibrated. “What are you, twelve?”
“Don’t laugh. You know Bruce and I don’t see eye-to-eye.” Of course, he did tell me he needed all the help he could get because of short staffing, but I knew if he thought I might be in danger even in the slightest by knowing this information, he’d pull me off the case faster than Lindsey slammed a door when grounded. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to corner him at church the next day.
“Which of the three do you think is the murderer?” I asked.
“What if none of them are?”
I sat up and peered into his face. “If not one of them, then who? There isn’t that many people to choose from.”
“I’m going to ask you again,” Duane pulled me back down and nestled my head under his chin. “Have you asked God to guide you?”
I knew I’d forgotten something. Prayer was so simple, yet when I had a puzzle to solve, I tended to forget. Instead, I forged ahead like a missile, destroying everything in my path. I sighed. “No, I haven’t.”
The front door banged open. Lindsey stepped inside, then slammed the door behind her. “I hate Bobby.” She stomped past us.
“Wait a minute, young lady.” I glanced at the clock, relieved that despite her dramatic entrance, she hadn’t broken her twelve o’clock curfew. “Where have you been?”
“I’m not late.”
“No, but you didn’t tell me where you were going, either.”
“Don’t you have a GPS on my phone?”
Okay, this conversation was going nowhere fast, and my darling
daughter was on the verge of being disrespectful. I straightened. “Let’s start over before you get grounded. Have a seat.” I motioned toward the empty end of the sofa. “Now, tell me what happened.”
She plopped next to me. “A group of us went to Wanda’s Diner, just to hang out since the party ended so early. I caught Bobby kissing someone else!” She covered her face. “I really thought we’d get back together.”
I exchanged a sympathetic glance with Duane. He kissed the tip of my nose. “I’ll leave you two ladies to the romantic stuff and see you in the morning at church.”
After he left, I turned back to Lindsey. “Why don’t you find another boy, sweet—”
“What!?” She lifted her head and glared at me with red-rimmed eyes. “I don’t want another boy. It’s not that easy. What if you and Uncle Duane broke up? Would you go right out and find a new man?”
Hopefully, Duane and I were a bit different than a couple of love struck fifteen year olds. Also, had Lindsey forgotten I’d caught her under the bleachers a few days ago? “No, I can’t say I would. I’m sorry for that uncaring comment. Who was Bobby kissing?”
“Amber.”
Chapter Twenty
After a sermon about trusting in the Lord and not leaning on my own understanding, and how submitting to Him would make my paths straight, I stood on the church steps and searched for Bruce. I’d tell him everything I knew, then step back and trust the authorities to handle things the way God wanted.
“Who are you looking for?” Lindsey bumped me with her hip. “Uncle Duane’s inside.”
“Bruce.”
“Why?” Lindsey wrinkled her nose. “I’m surprised he hasn’t tried to arrest one of us lately. Every time something goes wrong in this town, he blames it on us.”
“He’s actually not being too bad this time around.” I rose up on my toes. Not only did I want to tell him about my new suspicions, but I wanted to know why he hadn’t questioned the newspaper about the early obits. My shoulders slumped.
Advance Notice (A River Valley Mystery, book 2) Page 12