by Tonya Kappes
“There goes the light bulb of our very own mail carrier sleuth.” Vince’s voice ticked up, and he smacked his leg.
“I don’t think Simon killed himself.” My voice was laced with concern. “I think Nick Kirby had a reason to kill him, and Nick Kirby knew I had the letter.”
“Are you saying Nick Kirby killed Simon Little? His partner?” Vince asked.
“Yeah. And I think I need to pay him a visit.” There were a lot of emotions buried in my words.
“Maybe you need to tell Angela your suspicion before you go meddling.” Vince had never really acted this way toward one of my many amateur sleuthing romps around Sugar Creek Gap.
“I like to think of myself as helping not meddling.” I stood up and grabbed my bag, hoisting it up onto my shoulders. “And if I’m going to do it, I’ve got to get all this mail delivered.”
And, in record time, I did it. I’d decided that after I stuffed all the boxes at the nursing home, I’d deliver the mail to my third loop, the neighborhood, next. No one would be awake, and I could zoom past each mailbox, most of them attached to the house, which was why they needed a foot carrier. It took much longer when I delivered in the afternoon with people out gardening and fiddling around their yards, kids playing on the sidewalk, and me joining in on a good game of hopscotch or four-square was a daily summer activity.
It was my second loop where I’d spend most of my day, and I was sure to keep my ears peeled to pick up any juicy tidbits along the way.
I’d also text Angela to see if she wanted me to listen around town since she’d actually asked me to be a consultant on a previous case. She had claimed how townsfolk told me things, which they did. Everyone trusted their mail carrier. And they should. We knew about our clients more than their own families.
Especially when people worked from home. I could single out stay-at-home moms, but the work-from-home dads ordered just as much stuff through the mail they didn’t want their wives to find out about. Like a good mail carrier, I kept my mouth shut… on most stuff. Or I never told the names. It was something Iris and I loved to gossip about when I helped her in the kitchen at Pie in the Face.
Tonight wasn’t any different.
“You didn’t get any information from Vita?” Iris asked, referring to Vita Dickens, the dispatch operator turned deputy, who was my go-to gal for all thing secretive.
I sat on the stool next to the workstation in the middle of Iris’s bakery kitchen and watched her make a homemade pie crust.
“Nope. I tried to get her attention, but my hands were empty.” I lifted them in the air, both of us knowing I meant that I was without a sugary bribe for Vita.
I wasn’t above bribing anyone for information. Especially when I had someone on the inside of the sheriff’s department. Vita loved anything strawberry.
“I even have some slices of pan strawberry shortcake you could’ve taken to her.” Iris took the chilled butter out of the refrigerator and added it to the dry ingredients she’d already gathered together in a bowl. She tossed it all together before she poured it all on a marble pastry board where she married the hard butter and dry ingredients over and over with a rolling pin.
“I’ll be dropping the mail off tomorrow, so box it up for me before I leave tonight.” I drummed my fingers on the counter and started to formulate my game plan on how I would present it to her. “Vince told me he’d also ask Colvin Batty during their pretzel betting card game tonight if he’d heard anything since it is his gas station.”
A sudden burst of heat radiated from my feet. I tried to take big deep breaths like Doctor Hunter had told me to do when it felt like my legs were next to a furnace. I tried to think of a cold bath, like an ice-cold bath, with each inhale. I visualized a stream of frosty fog on the exhale.
“What’s wrong?” Iris threw the empty bowl where she’d mixed the ingredients for the crust in the sink and rushed over to me. “Are you about to pass out? The thought of the dead body getting to you?”
“No.” I fanned my hands in front of me. The beads of sweat were starting to line up on my upper lip like little soldiers. “Hot flash.”
“What can I do?” Iris had yet to start her change of life, and we were the same age. Something I envied about her.
“Nothing. Just taking off my shoes to let the steam release from my feet is about it, and I won’t do it in your kitchen.” It didn’t help I still had on my work uniform and thick-soled shoes that helped with my aching feet.
“Are you kidding?” Iris bent down and tried to untie the laces. “You’re my best friend, and I don’t have anything out right now.”
I didn’t do the right Southern thing and pretend to go on and on about not doing it so she’d insist a few more times. With her permission, I used the toe of the other shoe, not bothering to untie them, and simply slipped them off, peeling back my socks.
“I think it’s your toes begging to get help with that chipped-up polish.” Iris’s nose curled when she noticed my toenail polish wasn’t the prettiest. “Dang. Now that you and Mac aren’t dating, you’ve let your toes go to the dogs.”
“Listen, I’ve been focused on little Clara, and she doesn’t care what Maw-maw looks like.” The instant relief of having the socks off was an immediate effect. “I’m letting them get good and ready to pedicure, so when Clara is old enough, we can have a girls’ day.”
“Really?” Iris laughed. “That’s gonna be a few years from now.”
“So? I’ve got plenty of time,” I joked.
“Since we aren’t too worried about men…” Iris flipped the frosted lid off of one of her fancy cake stands, and lo and behold, she uncovered my favorite dessert.
Hummingbird cake.
“We can have a big slice.” She gently picked up the three-layered cake and placed it next to me on the workstation. She grabbed two forks from the drawer, and she dug in first.
“No plates?” I questioned.
“Nope. This is for me and you,” she said with a joyful tone through a mouthful of the moist creation. “Go on. I know it’s your favorite. Maybe I can talk you into getting those toenails done.”
I started to put my fork in the cream cheese icing and remembered Lucy Drake.
“I’m not going to do it.” I put the fork down and crossed my arms.
“What?” A wail ripped through her. “Now I know something else is wrong. Dish.”
“I don’t know. I’m going through all these changes. I have no idea why I couldn’t commit to Mac. He starts dating Lucy, who has the body of a thirty-year-old. Then I become a maw-maw when I didn’t want to be named Maw-maw, but Grady loves it. Then I go to yoga, where I can’t do any of the moves, and I not only have to look at Lucy, but I fall asleep and snore.” I patted my stomach. “I’ve never snored until I put on all this extra weight over the past year.”
“It’s menopause. You walk every day and keep in shape. It’s something we all go through, and I bet Lucy Drake is gonna be one ugly woman going through the change. Don’t you remember how her own mama blew up like a balloon.”
Iris always had a way of making me smile.
“That’s when she started all that crazy exercise. Then she got that face-lift and those nails.” Iris’s eyes grew.
“Oh my gosh. I forgot about the nails!” I squealed. “I remember sitting in church and seeing Lucy with her mom. Her mom would rake those long daggers down Lucy’s dad’s hairline. My mom would tell my dad that Mrs. Drake needed to get a room instead of going to church.”
Iris and I nearly fell off the stool laughing so hard.
“I didn’t even know what that meant until Mrs. Drake did up and leave Mr. Drake.” I picked up the fork and, without even thinking about what I was doing, dug right on into that moist Hummingbird cake and took the biggest bite. “That night she left, I remember my dad telling Mom how he guessed Mrs. Drake did get that room but with another man.”
“Those were the good ole days when all the gossip wasn’t about us.” Iris lifted a f
orkful of cake up in the air before she airplaned it into her mouth.
“Ain’t that the truth?” I decided to follow suit and grab the biggest bite I could. “Honestly, I have to wonder if Lucy has a little of her mama’s wandering eye.”
Iris jerked her head up, quickly darting a heavy gaze at me.
“Yeah. Today, she showed up at the gas station with some big burly guy. They seemed to be a little too friendly with each other, and he winked at her.” I gave Iris an example. “A flirty wink.”
“I told Mac she wasn’t…” Iris bit her lip.
“What did you tell Mac and when?” I squirmed uncomfortably on the stool.
“Listen, I just mentioned when he came in here to pick up dessert. He insisted that it was you who didn’t want to carry your relationship to the next level, and I told him he needed to give you time.” She frowned and looked at my face to see if I was going to be mad. “I’m only wanting you to feel better even though I’m thoroughly enjoying having you all to myself again.”
“Thank you.” A grateful warmth filled me inside for my good friend. “How could I be mad at you?”
“You know I love you.” She reached over and nearly fell off her stool when she put her arms around me to give me the comforting reassurance I needed.
“I bet you’re the reason why he stopped me today at his office. I could tell he was itching to talk to me about us, but I simply can’t go there right now.” It dawned on me, and I felt a little inner peace as the words left my mouth. “I guess I’m upset, not because we didn’t work out, but because he was going on a date with Lucy Drake the next day.” I remembered how I’d seen him at one of the Sunday night clogging events and how they danced together. “But I want him to be happy.”
“I want you to be happy.” She pushed back a stray strand of my hair and gave me one last hug. “Seriously, enough of that chatter. I need to know if we’re going to spy on people?”
“Because I think Simon Little didn’t die by his own hand?” I just had an inkling there was foul play involved.
“Yep.” A big grin started at the corners of her lips, softening her face and brightening her eyes. “I mean, you did mention that you took the letter to the garage before Simon saw it. How did Nick react?”
“He really wanted me to let him sign it. He did mention they’d been working on a patent together, and I know for a fact when a patent letter is sent with two owners, both owners have to sign.” I’d seen it many times with certified mail. Especially when it came from a governmental office. “Do you think Nick could’ve possibly asked Simon about it?”
“I don’t know, but if it does come back as foul play, I’d make sure you tell Angela exactly how Nick reacted when you tried to hand deliver it to Simon.” Iris was right and fed the little niggling idea that Simon’s death wasn’t by his own hand, but by the hand of someone else.
Someone who had a very good reason to kill him… money.
Chapter 9
After I’d gotten home from eating too much hummingbird cake with Iris, I took Rowena and Buster for a quick walk down Little Creek Road where the Front Porch Ladies were already tucked in to bed, so I didn’t have to worry about them stopping me to gossip. I also noticed Lucy Drake’s car was parked on the street in front of Mac’s house and the smell from a charcoal grill wafted through the air.
When me and the fur kids hurried past Mac’s house, I couldn’t help but grab a sneak peek from the side of his house where he’d designed and built a very cool outdoor living area complete with a fancy grill and pizza oven. The twinkling lights along the pergola were blinking as if hundreds of fireflies were batting around. Mac loved those lights. It left me with a long deep sigh, knowing he and Lucy were probably all snuggled up on the outdoor ottoman he’d bought after I had mentioned how much I loved it when we saw it on some glitzy shop online.
“Don’t you know what this means?” Lucy’s voice echoed into the dark night.
“It means you’re sticking your nose somewhere it doesn’t belong.” Mac’s voice cut through the night.
“It means that if I can get a break on the headline, then I might get picked up by the Associated Press.” Lucy didn’t sound too happy. “It means I can finally get the break I need to be seen as a real reporter.”
“You’re a morning DJ.” Mac wasn’t very good at stroking Lucy’s ego like I’m sure she wanted him to. “But you do what you want.”
They appeared from the side of his house. Mac’s hair was begging me to pat it down; I could see it fluffed up a little where he’d run his hands through it. He had on a gray tee shirt and his baggy jeans that fit perfectly on him. The hem scraped the grass as he walked in his bare feet. I didn’t bother looking at her as I slipped Rowena into my arms and curled in Buster’s leash while we tucked in front of Harriette’s house by her gate. Any movement and Mac would see us.
“Mac Tabor, you know what?” Lucy Drake took a deep breath and turned around. She pointed a finger at him like she was a school principal giving him a good talkin’ to. “I know you don’t have any desire to take me and you beyond this little dinner here, chitchat there, coffee here. So, I’m going to go and get this lead taken care of.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right.” Mac didn’t let her fluster him. “I don’t intend to have a relationship with you, other than company. So, I guess it’s not fair to think we could be just friends and enjoy each other’s company.”
“Not at my age.” Her chest lifted in her tight sweater before she shimmied her hips. “If you want that kind of relationship, I suggest you walk right on down Little Creek Road back into Bernadette Butler’s house, where you did have that kind of relationship before you got bored.”
Bored? My jaw dropped. Did he tell her that I bored him? The nerve! Good for her for leaving, I thought, when she got into her car and zoomed off into the night.
I stayed crouched down as the anger seethed into my veins.
“I’ll show him boring,” I whispered into Rowena’s ear before I felt like the coast was clear and Mac had gone to his backyard.
I put Rowena back on the ground and gave Buster a little more slack in his leash so we could walk back home.
“I never said you were boring.” A weird feeling of dread crawled through me when I heard Mac’s voice.
I twirled around, trying not to let Buster drag me where Mac was leaning up against his side fence with a huge smile on his face.
“She said you said I was boring.” I took a couple of steps closer so Buster wasn’t gagging from the taut leash.
“Hey, buddy.” Mac reached over the fence to pet Buster, who had jumped up so Mac didn’t have to try so hard to pat him. “I’m sorry you heard that.”
“I wasn’t snooping.” I wanted him to know I wasn’t. “I’d just gotten home from the bakery and decided to take the kids for a walk.” I took a few steps closer to him.
I gulped when I could smell him. He had a certain smell that always seemed to get my attention, even when I was married to Richard. It was his smell. Something that couldn’t be bottled. When we’d first started to date, I remembered feeling like a ridiculous, giddy woman when he’d left his sweatshirt at the house after we’d done some remodeling, and I slept with it so I could wake up smelling him.
“What did you eat at the bakery?” He reached over and ran the pad of his thumb on my chin. “If I didn’t know better…” He paused and held his thumb up in the light of the moon. “I’d think you were eating hummingbird cake without me.”
“You and I both have such a soft spot for that darn cake.” I couldn’t help but hurt so much on the inside. There was so much history between us; it was hard to even think of any memories that didn’t include him. “If you want a piece, I did bring the entire thing home with me.”
“Bernie, are you asking me to come down for cake as a friend, or are you feeling what I’m feeling?” Mac had been so great at being able to get to the heart of the matter. “Because I can’t take any more rejection from you. M
y heart aches when I go see Clara. I never wanted to take Lucy, but she hopped in the truck to go. You know I couldn’t kick her out.”
“I’m not sure what is between us.” I didn’t want to mislead him, but I did know that I didn’t want to lose him again either. “I just know that seeing you with Lucy has gotten my goat.”
“Now, we can’t let that happen.” He reached over the fence for me to take his hand. “I need you in my life. I understand you aren’t ready to get remarried. But are you ready to completely open your heart up to me?”
My nose started to tingle as the beginning of tears began to line my eyelids.
“This is ridiculous.” I let go of his hand and wiped the tears from my face. “We are too old to be acting like…”
“Our hearts don’t know age. It only knows what we feel.” He put his hand firmly on my shoulder. ““It can’t tell me I’m too old to feel what I’ve felt for you for years or the way I feel about you now.” He ran his hand up the back of my neck, drawing me close to him before he gently kissed me.
There was a little squeal coming from Harriette’s house as soon as Mac bent down to kiss me. I turned to see Harriette’s side window was open, her curtain flapping in the breeze.
“I guess someone interrupted that moment,” Mac teased.
“Maybe we need to take it slow.” I gripped the leashes and took a step away from the fence. “I’m still not changing my stance of jumping in and getting hitched.”
Though it was nice to feel a little more whole seeing Mac and understanding he and Lucy weren’t really an item, I still didn’t know where I stood on the whole getting-married thing. I certainly didn’t want to mislead him, and then we’d really be in a pickle if this entire situation repeated itself. Maybe our friendship wouldn’t recover. Even though it’d been on rocky ground, we were at least kind to each other.
It was the whole “fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me” attitude I didn’t want him to have. I cared too much to lead him on with any misconceptions.