But she tried not to let the less-than-optimal start to her day bother her. Marlene knew that a positive attitude, hard as it might be some days to maintain, was essential to her business, not to mention life in general.
She was thirty-two years old, owned her own home, and was her own boss. Not so shabby. Few people were that fortunate.
Marlene rounded the final bend before the office. In the distance, she could see the old strip mall that sat across the street from her office.
Next to that strip mall was a small, two-room building that had once been an oversized hot dog stand. Now that space was leased by Artie Ryan.
Artie, the most popular kid in her class, had returned home about a year ago and immediately got himself involved in local politics. His service record, local history, endless charm, and the well-timed vacancy on the Council served as the perfect storm to jumpstart his political career. Not long after he’d come home, Artie was a Council member.
This was one of the many reasons Marlene loathed politics. Artie had gotten elected not based on any real merit, but had stormed into office by riding a wave of nostalgia and popularity. The only policies the man had were home and auto.
She shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, Artie had been Student Council President not once, not twice, but three times in high school.
Artie was a great athlete, naturally gifted in the classroom, and of course the most handsome guy in school during her time. As usual, Fate had allotted all the goods to one man, leaving the proverbial table scraps for everybody else.
All the girls had been crazy about him.
Except Marlene.
She couldn’t stand Artie Ryan. In high school he’d been sooooo cool. Sooo cocky. Soooo full of himself. It was like he had decided, at an early age, he was better than everybody else. And everyone else had fallen in line.
Marlene felt relief as she saw Gwen O’Vear’s Tesla parked in one of the three slots in front of her office. She was obscenely late, but Gwen was still here.
She parked her run-down Camry next to the slick, spotless Tesla.
It was a cool spring morning. As she got out of the car, a cloud passed in front of the sun and a chill ran through the air. Across the street, the guys were getting ready inside the pizza shop, and the laundromat was humming as always. Her eyes drifted over to—
A tall, hooded man stood in front of the convenience store.
Staring at her.
His dark beard and the hood obscured his face, and there was something dangerous in his eyes. Her imagination kicked into high gear, and the image of this man chasing her down a dark street immediately filled her mind.
Marlene shivered as the day seemed to turn colder.
He stood next to an old, black muscle car that was decorated with dirt and grime.
“Do I know you?” Marlene called out.
The man took a step forward. His black boots were just as mud-caked as his car. Marlene gripped her phone, ready to dial 9-1-1. He was giving her the creeps.
But before he reached the street, a shadow passed over him. Marlene’s eyes darted up. A hawk flew low overhead. At the same time, what looked to be a stray dog ran out from behind her office and stood at the edge of the street. Its lips curled into a growl.
What is going on?
The man took a quick step back and jumped into his car. He backed up dangerously fast, then peeled away.
Where were the police when you needed them?
The dog looked at her once, then barreled across the street and into the tree line. Even though she and animals didn’t get along, she wanted to help the stray. That man had looked really nasty and there was no telling what he’d planned to do, but the brave dog had scared him away.
Another bit of really, really good luck. Life was all about perspective really. She just wished she could offer the stray some food or a dog bone ...
Marlene shivered again and got the nagging feeling that somebody was watching her. Her eyes drifted back to the strip and she caught Artie Ryan watching her through his window.
As always, the man was dressed in a nice suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and his gaze was steady. Six months ago, he’d stopped by to say hello. In high school, he’d never given her the time of day and Marlene knew it wasn’t healthy to hold a grudge, but still her pride had gotten the better of her. She’d feigned having an appointment. He’d smiled apologetically and left.
Since then Artie had popped over at least once a month. Usually bringing a cup of coffee and that smile that melted every girl’s heart back in high school. He was very handsome. Very. And every time, Marlene pretended to be busy. Her actions weren’t borne out of a silly grudge leftover from being snubbed in high school. It went beyond that.
She just hated politics. And politicians.
She could never shake the feeling that he wanted something from her. That every conversation was calculated and purposeful. So she’d steered clear.
But her coolness did not have the deterring effect she would have liked.
This morning, Artie waved excitedly at her from his office. Marlene actually looked over her shoulder, figuring her was waving to Gwen O’Vear. But her client was nowhere in sight. Dumbfounded, Marlene turned back around to find Artie stepping out of his office and waving again at her.
“Hey, neighbor!” He seemed excited to see her. Which probably meant he was thinking about needing her support or vote in the future. “How have you been, Marlene?”
“Uh…fine?”
Artie stopped at the edge of his property, a few feet shy of the street. He smiled and his arms hung loosely at his sides. She couldn’t get over how much confidence the guy exuded.
“You know we still haven’t done lunch.”
“Were we supposed to?”
He pointed at her and smiled. “Touché.” He shook his head. “You haven’t changed. But this town sure has, since I’ve been away.”
Marlene didn’t think the town had changed at all. “How are … things?”
He shrugged, as if to say Aw shucks. “Really well, thanks for asking. The Council is involved in some important work, and I hope I’m up to the task. The people have trusted me to represent them, and I can’t let them down. You know what I mean? We’ve got a lot of work to do, but I think the town is moving in the right direction.”
“Oh yeah?” She couldn’t be any less interested. And she was of the opposite mind: things were getting worse. They needed a new grade school. Local businesses were having trouble staying open. Marlene had heard about cuts in the fire department’s budget …
“Yes.” He nodded. “A lot of work. I actually slept here last night, as a matter of fact, because I wanted to put the finishing touches on my big budget proposal.”
“Okay, good luck with that.” She pointed over her shoulder. “I’ve got a client waiting to see me. Gotta go.”
“I’ll see you, Marlene.” He waved again. “It’s pretty cool, isn’t it?”
She stopped, half-turned from him. “What’s pretty cool?”
“What you and I are doing? In a way our jobs are very similar. We live to serve others.”
Anger ripped through Marlene. The last thing she wanted to be compared to was a politician, and she saw her job as very different from his. She genuinely wanted to help people. He genuinely wanted to get elected and work his way up through the political totem pole, from one cush job to another.
All the same, her mouth kicked in like always. At the worst time.
“Listen. I was thinking the other night, Artie. I know you just got a position on the Council, but you should really think about …”
She managed to stop herself from offering Artie Ryan any advice. He didn’t deserve it.
He looked at her with a funny smile. “I’d love to hear your thoughts. What is it?”
She thought of something different to say. “You really should think about getting an office on Main Street, closer to the middle of the town where all the action is.”<
br />
He pointed at her and smiled. “Trying to get rid of me already, huh?”
“Oh no.” Of course not.
“I see how it is.” But he wasn’t offended at all. Or just good at not showing his true feelings, like all politicians. “There was one space open on Main Street next to the tire shop. I had all but signed the lease, but somebody offered the landlord a better deal.”
“That’s too bad,” Marlene said.
“Blessing in disguise. I couldn’t really afford that space.” He shrugged and gave her that Aw shucks grin again. “And now you and I get to be neighbors. Isn’t that great?”
“Wonderful.”
“I feel like you were one of the people I didn’t get to know well enough in school. Let’s fix that, okay?”
“Fix the town first, and it’s a deal. The Mayor is running us into the ground.”
“Thanks, Marlene,” Artie said uncertainly. “Mal A. Gant has done this town a lot of good over the years, so I’ll have to think carefully about how I can help.”
A lot of good over the years?!
Mayor Gant had slowly, but surely, sucked the life out of town. As a child, she could remember her mother complaining about the guy.
Artie was a true politician. Anybody with half a brain knew Mayor Gant was as crooked as a kindergartner’s penmanship. The man had made a career out of political favors and kickbacks, having almost been indicted several times but somehow always finding a way out of his own mess.
But the Gants had been a fixture in town for many generations, going back almost two hundred years. It was rumored the extended Gant family owned over fifty percent of the town property. Anybody that openly opposed the mayor or his cronies was likely to get blackballed. Artie knew that and was going to tread lightly out of self-preservation.
As always, a politician’s true nature disappointed her.
But for a brief, nonsensical moment, Marlene gazed at the handsome man across the street and thought he could make a real difference … if only he could get elected. Artie Ryan could, with the right help, go a long way. She could picture him in office, first as mayor, then maybe Congress, then …
What was she thinking?
This was Artie Ryan, not Thomas Jefferson for God’s sake.
He gazed back at her, his expression guarded. Marlene had never seen Artie like this: a little off-balance. Normally he owned every conversation he was part of. Here he seemed taken aback by her.
“Alright, Artie.” She smiled politely. “I have to run now.”
“Hey.” He smiled, his confidence returning. “In the neighborly spirit, can I buy you a slice of pizza for lunch?”
“Oh, that’s alright,” Marlene said. “I brought my lunch today.”
He looked down at her empty hands. “You did?”
She blushed deeply, having been caught in the stupid lie. “I really can’t keep my client waiting.”
He smirked. “Say hi to Gwen for me. And ask her to stop by to see me on her way out. I’d love to catch up with her.”
She rolled her eyes again. Artie probably wanted to do a lot more than catch up with her. They had dated in high school before she had broken his heart by cheating on him with his best friend, Lance Miller.
Marlene locked her car and walked to her door. The office was dark inside, and she began to wonder why Gwen hadn’t turned any lights on. But then she realized: the office was locked, so Gwen couldn’t be inside.
She turned back around and peered into Gwen’s Tesla. The woman was not in it. So where was she?
Gwen had texted almost an hour ago about going across the street for coffee. Could she still be over there?
Marlene tried Gwen again on her phone, but the call went through to voicemail.
Weird.
Marlene caught Artie looking at her again through his office window. She smiled politely then closed her door.
Marlene turned on the light and stepped through the common area into her office, where she set her purse on the desk. After powering on her hand-me-down laptop, Marlene waited for the old machine to come to life. By the time it had come on and she’d gotten her wireless connection to work, she realized another five minutes had passed.
Marlene went to the front window. Gwen’s Tesla was still there. She called again. No answer. She texted. No response.
Beginning to get nervous, Marlene stepped outside and looked around. No sign of Gwen.
She crossed the street and peeked her head into the laundromat. Sixty-year-old, four-foot ten inch, Mrs. Lee waved happily at her from behind the counter. There were a bunch of people mostly women either waiting for their laundry to dry or folding it.
Marlene stepped into the laundromat. She had to raise her voice over the whir of the washing machines and dryers.
“Mrs. Lee, have you seen Gwen O’Vear this morning?”
“The actress? No, I did not see her.”
Marlene scanned Mrs. Lee’s customers. Twenty in all, half of whom she recognized but didn’t know personally.
Marlene went next door to the pizza shop. Andre and George waved her in. It was after ten, so they’d already begun preparing lunch. Andre was kneading viscous balls of dough, while George was flattening the dough and making it into a circle on the counter.
“Morning, guys. Have you seen Gwen O’Vear?”
“That her car?” Andre asked, coming out from behind the counter.
“Yes.”
He nodded. “Nope. We haven’t seen her.”
George looked up from his work. “That car was here by the time we got here, but I ain’t seen her.”
“Thanks. How’s business?”
Andre wagged a finger at her. “Better ever since we followed your advice to sweeten our sauce a little bit.”
Marlene laughed, thinking Andre was making a joke.
But the guy was serious.
Weird—she didn’t remember giving him that advice. But now wasn’t the time to figure out what he was referring to.
She had to find Gwen.
“That’s great, guys. Alright, I’m going to keep looking.”
Last stop.
Marlene went into the convenience store where Tom Gelder, the owner, was manning the counter. His boots up on the counter, Tom shifted the newspaper six inches out of the way so he could give her a polite, but unfriendly, smile.
“Marlene. What’s up?”
“Have you seen Gwen O’Vear this morning?”
He shook his head once and brought the paper back up in front of his face. “Nope.”
She waited for him to offer more information, but Tom Gelder was a man of few words, and fewer kindnesses. He’d made his opinion of her business loud and clear when she’d stopped in a few months abck.
“So you got no degree in sports science, psychology, psychiatry, finance, or sociology…and yet you’re calling yourself an expert and a life coach?”
Just thinking about it was making her mad. All her life she’d given great advice to people, like the time she’d told John Cory to stay away from the Presser barn because she had a feeling—later that day a weak wind had knocked it down like it was a house of cards.
Like the time she’d told Nancy Fesham to break up with her boyfriend over the phone, as opposed to in person. After the breakup, he’d put a gun that no one knew he had to his head. Marlene was sure that if Nancy had gone there that night in person, it would have been a murder-suicide.
She pushed the anger aside and smiled at Gelder, even though he couldn’t see her through the newspaper. “Thanks, Tom.”
Marlene got the urge to give Gelder some unsolicited advice. First of all, his aisles weren’t all four feet wide and anybody organizing a convenience store knew that this was good business practice. Second…
Where did she think of this stuff? Obviously she had read all this random information somewhere and now her brain was somehow spitting it back out. But where? And why would she have read about managing a convenience store?
Marlene
stopped herself. After his haughty attitude about her career, she felt Tom Gelder didn’t deserve the benefit of her help.
Stepping back outside, Marlene thought about what to do next. Replaying her conversation with Artie Ryan from a few minutes ago, she knew he hadn’t seen Gwen. Unless he was lying.
And even though Artie was a politician, Marlene didn’t think he was lying about not seeing Gwen.
That bad feeling in the pit of her stomach kept growing. Gwen’s car was here but she was nowhere to be found and she wasn’t responding to calls or texts.
Had someone kidnapped her?
Had someone done … something else to her?
Marlene felt her heart beat pick up and her breath grow short. She tried Gwen’s phone again, but still got no answer. Now she was panicked. Gwen should have been here, or she should have answered her phone.
“Are you okay?” Artie asked.
Not hearing him emerge from his office, Marlene screamed at the top of her lungs. It was the second scream of the day, though this one was much louder than the incident with the crazy owl.
Four
“I can’t find Gwen,” Marlene said. “And she’s not answering her phone.”
“Hmm.” Artie frowned. “What time were you supposed to be here?”
Marlene sighed. She didn’t feel like getting into the details of her morning with Artie. “Nine, but I ran into some issues so I was an hour late.”
“Maybe she called a friend to pick her up.”
Marlene pointed. “She has a car.”
“Maybe it stopped working. Maybe she forgot to charge it last night.”
Marlene hadn’t thought of that. “But she’s not answering her phone.”
“Maybe she’s ticked off you were an hour late.”
Marlene shook her head. “I started calling her a few minutes after nine.”
Artie pursed his lips. “She is kind of temperamental. Maybe just a few minutes of waiting ticked her off.”
The Once and Future Scream Queen: Marlene Ambrosia Mysteries Page 2