Dear Abby Cozy Mystery Collection 2

by Sonia Parin

  A hum of admiration made the rounds with everyone waving off the insects that had come out to prey on them.

  “I guess that’s that,” Faith said. “I’ll see you all at the pub.”

  “Now it’s really beginning to feel a lot like Christmas,” Joyce said as they walked back.

  Abby was just glad no one had started singing. The night air felt sultry enough for her to want to hurry back to the air-conditioned comfort of the pub. “As if your elf and angel outfits didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  Joshua leaned forward and laughed. “I’ve only just noticed them.”

  “You’re kidding. How could you miss them?” she asked even though she already knew the answer. Clearly, his mind had been on more serious matters. Forgetting herself, she asked, “By the way, did you have any luck with Stevie Garth?”

  Several seconds ticked by before he answered. “Yes.”

  “Sorry, I guess you’d rather not talk about it.”

  Shrugging, he said, “The wrench is missing from the truck.”

  “At least he didn’t have to cut his honeymoon short,” Abby mused. She watched Doyle trying to discourage a moth from settling on his nose. “I have to ask.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Do you know for sure Stevie Garth is away?”

  Joshua nodded. “Yes, he’s on an island up north.”

  “I guess he’s now officially the only electrician in town. Does the business go to Harold’s brother?”

  “Actually, no, it doesn’t. It goes to Stevie Garth.”

  Joyce looked at Joshua. “Doesn’t that make Stevie Garth a suspect? Yes, I know. He wasn’t here, but he could have paid someone to bump Harold off.”

  “Hardly. He’s really torn about Harold’s death.”

  “Wait a minute. How does he know the business is his?” Abby asked.

  Joshua looked away.

  Joyce nudged her. “I don’t think he wants to tell us.”

  What did Joshua know and why didn’t he want to tell her? Abby looked up at the night sky. Stars sparkled back at her. She tried to switch off but it didn’t last. “Hey, that sort of makes sense of the pram.” Had Harold decided to adopt Stevie Garth in the way men who didn’t have children and yearned for one did?

  Including the pram in his model village suggested he wanted to announce it to the world. Only… no one ever got to see his model village.

  Did any of that tie in with the murder? The only person who would be affected by Harold’s gift of the business would be his brother but Joshua had already cleared him of any involvement.

  Who else might have been affected?

  George Mercer. He’d been interested in getting the land. What if he’d heard about Harold’s intention to change his will? He might have assumed Harold had wanted to give Stevie Garth the house and land as well as the business. What if George Mercer thought he wouldn’t be able to buy the land from Stevie?

  “You’ve got your thinking face on,” Joyce said.

  “Yes, but my mind is full of what ifs.” As well as a rising suspicion about Joshua’s silence, she thought. She couldn’t shake off the feeling he was keeping something from her.

  Joyce looked over her shoulder. “You’ll have to excuse me. It looks like Bradford is trying to get out of going to the pub for dinner. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Is it my imagination or has it cooled down?” Abby asked.

  “Don’t get your hopes up. This is only a temporary respite so enjoy it while you can.”

  When they reached the pub, Faith, who’d driven there, waved them over to a table. “Hurry up. I’m starving and I want to order.”

  Joshua excused himself for a moment. Abby waited until he was out of earshot to say, “He’s keeping something to himself and I’m beginning to think it’s not fair.”

  “You think it’s something vital?”

  “Must be and I get the feeling it’s something that’s got him worried.” She told Faith about Stevie Garth inheriting the business and she agreed that maybe Harold Moorhead had planned on favoring him in the will too.

  “He must have really liked Stevie.”

  “What do you know about him?” Abby asked. “Did he grow up in the area?”

  “Nearby. Let me think.” Faith grabbed a bread stick and started munching on it. “You’ll have to ask Joyce. She’ll know.”

  “Actually, I remember Bradford saying something along those lines.” Abby looked over her shoulder to see if Joyce had arrived. Instead, she saw Joshua heading toward their table only to stop half way to answer his phone. After a brief conversation, he looked up, mouthed an apology and left. “Heavens. He didn’t even come by the table to say goodbye.”

  “Who?”

  “Joshua. I hope that means he’s found a lead.”

  “Without telling you about it?”

  “It’s his job.” Sitting back, she smiled. “I guess I get the night off.”

  “Let it go, Abby. Listen to yourself. Let it go and go back to sleep.” Punching her pillow, Abby checked the time. Five in the morning. Light peaked through the corners of the curtain. The sun would be coming up soon. Another day. Another dead-end. And she had just spent a night tossing and turning.

  She rolled to the edge of the bed and, scooping in a deep breath, she swung her feet to the floor.

  “I’m awake so I might as well be up.”

  Half an hour later, she was showered and dressed. Doyle had opened an eye a couple of times but, each time, he’d gone back to snoozing.

  Abby sat on the couch and grabbed her phone. Scrolling through the photos she’d taken of Gloria Mercer, she tried to see beyond the happy smiles.

  If Harold’s photos of the model village were to be taken seriously, the woman had been having an affair with Harold for years. Abby mentally underlined that. Shrugging, she murmured, “At the risk of missing another vital clue.”

  When she heard a delivery truck pulling up outside the pub, she checked the time and couldn’t believe she had spent an hour looking at the photos.

  She checked her messages. Nothing from Joshua. He would be talking to Jon Reed that morning. Joshua knew how to do his job. If Jon Reed had anything to hide, Joshua would get the information out of him.

  She sent Joyce a text asking about Stevie Garth. Apparently, there was some sort of story about him.

  A message came through just as Doyle padded his way into the sitting room. “Good morning, sleepy head.” Knowing his routine, Abby waited for Doyle to have a drink of water. Then, they both went downstairs.

  “Same tree?” she asked.

  Doyle gave it a sniff and then trotted over to the next tree to do his business.

  While she waited, Abby read the message. A big question mark from Joshua. A second later, he called.

  Realizing her mistake, Abby said, “Sorry. I sent the message to the wrong person.”

  “Why are you asking about him?”

  “Same reason I always ask questions. Reporter’s curiosity.”

  “I realize you want to get your story but I wonder if you might take a back seat for a while.”

  “Why?”

  “The more complicated the case, the higher the risk,” he explained. “Anything could go wrong. A suspect could get a tip off before the police have a chance to speak with him…”

  “You think I’ll get in the way.”

  “Abby, you’ve already been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He huffed out a breath.

  “So this is about me now? You know I can look after myself. And I think you also know I wouldn’t jeopardize your investigation. If I find something that I think can be of value to you, I contact you straightaway.” Abby looked into the distance. She understood his frustration.

  “You should know we’ve taken Jon Reeds into custody.”

  Surprised by the information, she nodded. “I’ll talk to you… whenever.” Joshua had never been short tempered with her. She wouldn’t make a big deal out of it becau
se she understood he was under pressure.

  She checked the time. “Too early for Joyce to be opened. Let’s go for a walk.” She refused to read too much into Joshua’s attitude. He had a job to do, Abby insisted. She looked down at Doyle. “Actually, I’m not sure what that was all about.”

  She shielded her eyes against the rising sun and, thinking she saw someone walking ahead, she looked into the distance.

  “That looks like Joyce.” Abby hurried her pace and caught up with her. “Top of the morning to you.” Abby looked down at the large box on wheels she was pulling. “Are you leaving town?”

  “No, these are the Christmas decorations. I thought I might get an early start. And, since you’re here, you might as well help me. Unless, of course, you have something better to do.”

  No, she didn’t. “Happy to help.”

  “Really?”

  “I think I’ve been made redundant, so I’m footloose and fancy free.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask, but then my name wouldn’t be Joyce Breeland. What’s up?”

  “I think I’ve overstepped.”

  “Oh, I do that all the time. Don’t worry about it. I’m guessing Joshua is responsible. Well, his loss is my gain.”

  They reached the park and Abby helped Joyce haul the box up the couple of steps to the stage area where a ladder stood waiting for her.

  “I see you’re organized.”

  “Yes, Bradford used it last night to set up the lights.”

  “Um. I’m good at holding the ladder.”

  Joyce laughed. “I guess that means you’re not good with heights.”

  “I prefer to focus on my strengths. Tinsel or decorations first?”

  “Tinsel.”

  Abby opened the box. “Wow. These look great.” She picked up a snowflake made out of paper.

  “The local school kids made it their project this year. They thought paper decorations would be kinder on the tree. Come on, the sooner we do this, the sooner we can have a proper breakfast.”

  “That sounds good to me.” To her surprise, she managed to go an hour without thinking about the case or worrying about Joshua. Stepping back, Abby tilted her head from side to side. “Is there something missing?”

  “Yes, the star, but that goes up tonight.” Joyce closed the lid on the box and straightened. “It’s already too warm to be out and about. Time for breakfast.”

  Doyle, who’d been stretched out under the shade of a tree, got to his feet and walked on ahead of them.

  Crossing the street was all it took for everything Abby had been trying to ignore to resurface. “Stevie Garth.”

  “What about him?”

  “Bradford said there’s a story about him and Harold and you’d know all about it.”

  “Story? He must have been thinking about Harold taking him under his wings when Stevie’s parents died in a car accident. Poor Stevie. They were his adoptive parents. Imagine losing his parents twice. Anyhow, Harold took him in as an apprentice. Everyone actually thought he might have been his lovechild. Well, by everyone I actually meant me.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah. The resemblance is there.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Let me think… Thirty.”

  Thirty.

  Why did that ring a bell?

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Gloria said she stood on solid ground,” Abby mused and remembered they’d been standing in the room with all the Christmas photos when she’d made that claim. Sitting back, she scrolled through the photos for the umpteenth time. “Oh.”

  “Oh, what?” Joyce asked.

  Leaning forward, she showed them to Joyce. “What do you see?”

  She watched Joyce studying the images. Her face changed from relaxed to focused with various expressions in-between.

  “Oh,” Joyce exclaimed.

  “Oh?”

  “Look,” Joyce pointed at a picture with Gloria holding a baby. “Her face looks slightly plump. Almost as if she’s put on weight.” She scrolled through the photos and stopped to point to another one. “And here. She’s holding her second baby and again she looks plump.”

  That’s what Abby had seen but she’d wanted someone else’s opinion.

  In the photos taken after the birth of her babies, Gloria had looked slightly plump. While in all the other photos, Gloria had looked slim. All expect one other…

  Joyce had scrolled back to the beginning. She set the phone down and they both looked at the first photo taken, presumably soon after her marriage to George Mercer.

  She looked to be about twenty years old.

  Tapping the phone, Joyce said, “Then, there’s this photo.”

  Just to be sure, Abby asked, “Are you suggesting she had three pregnancies?”

  “Maybe. Then again, I remember being rosy cheeked with a plump face in my twenties. Then I developed my cheekbones.”

  Abby’s eyebrows curved up. “How do you actually develop them?”

  “I stopped eating sugar, meaning, I cut out all sweets. My excess puppy fat fell away and my cheekbones emerged.”

  “I guess I’m still holding on to my baby fat.”

  “Nonsense. You have wonderful cheekbones, just not as chiseled as mine.”

  “Is this how rumors start?”

  “What do you mean?” Joyce asked.

  “You’re saying she had a baby before her marriage to George Mercer…”

  “I’m saying it. You’re saying it. Soon enough, everyone will be saying it.”

  Abby gasped. Then she shot to her feet. “Oh. Oh. Oh.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “If you don’t hear back from me in thirty minutes, call Joshua.”

  “Do you realize what this means, Doyle?” Abby checked for traffic and then made a turn into the main street. She had been so excited by the idea, she hadn’t stopped to complain about the heat in her car.

  “Gloria had a secret love child. What do you think she did with it?” She glanced down but Doyle didn’t show the slightest interest in her newsflash. “She put him up for adoption. That’s my guess.”

  It would now be up to Gloria Mercer to deny it.

  She checked the time. She had fifteen minutes to get to the Mercer house and then fifteen minutes to get a confession out of Gloria Mercer.

  She couldn’t miss the opportunity and she didn’t see how it would affect Joshua’s investigation. In fact, if she convinced Gloria to tell the truth, it might even help him with the case.

  With only a few minutes to go before she arrived, she remembered Joshua had a police officer stationed outside Harold’s house which happened to be on a property next to the Mercer farm.

  “If we’re lucky, he might be looking the other way when we drive by. It’s a fifty-fifty risk and I’m willing to take it. Just don’t roll your eyes at me, I’m going to duck.”

  As she turned into the Mercer’s driveway, she checked her rearview mirror but didn’t see a police car trying to prevent her from entering the Mercer property.

  She checked her phone. “Fifteen minutes, Abby, and counting.” Winding down her window, she reached for the buzzer and pressed it. No one answered but she now noticed the gate stood open.

  “An open invitation? Enter at your own risk?” She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “Call me a fool, but I have to go in.”

  Doyle sat up, his ears pricked up.

  Halfway along the drive, her phone rang. She glanced at it and saw the caller ID. “Joshua.”

  “We’ve got a confession out of Jon Reed. I thought you might like to know.”

  “A confession to ambushing me?” Abby asked, not quite believing what he’d told her.

  “Yes.”

  “Did he say why he broke into Harold’s house?”

  “He was looking for Harold’s other phone. Anyhow, he also confessed to killing Harold.”

  Her instinct kicked in and she asked, “Who’s he covering for?”

  “That�
�s what I’d like to know.”

  Hearing Joshua’s skepticism, Abby’s shoulders relaxed. That’s when it hit her.

  She and Joyce had uncovered a truth worth killing for. Abby slowed down and brought the car to a stop under the shade of a tall pine tree.

  She had been so excited by their findings, she hadn’t really stopped to think what it might all mean.

  “What is a confession worth to him?” she asked. “What would make a man give up his freedom?”

  “I have no idea. I’m hoping a night spent in prison will knock some sense into him.” He cleared his throat.

  To Abby, it sounded as if he wanted to say something else. After their last conversation, she hadn’t expected to hear back from him until he had the killer behind bars. “By the way, did you find Harold’s Range Rover?”

  “Yes, it had been broken into. Since we weren’t able to find anything in the phone records to lead us to his killer, we expected to find another phone. Jon Reeds beat us to it. He says he destroyed it.”

  Along with whatever evidence it had contained, she thought, including proof that Jon Reeds was covering up for someone else.

  Abby couldn’t delay this any longer. “I have to go. Talk later?”

  “Yeah. I’ll meet you at the pub.”

  “Wait.” She put the AC up and pressed her hand to her forehead. She had acted on impulse. Now… she had come to her senses. “I’m at the Mercer farm.” She thought she heard him growl under his breath. “Yes, I know… After you explicitly told me to back down. I… I got carried away.” She told him about the photos and what she and Joyce had seen. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought he might be on the move, as in, hurrying to his car.

  “Where are you exactly?” he asked.

  “Halfway along the drive. The house is within sight.”

  “If I tell you to stay where you are, will you stay?”

  Abby couldn’t help it. She slipped on her reporter’s hat and thought of the scoop she would get.

  “Abby?”

  “Hang on. I’m thinking about it.”

  “I’m on my way,” Joshua said. “Stay on the line.”