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Authors: Cynthia Hickey

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Chapter Eighteen

The lines were drawn.

High school kids goofed off around one
fire pit, adults huddled around another, and the numbers were vastly uneven.
With the amount of young people in attendance, Lindsey might as well have hung
up a sign saying, “Party at my house.” Half the school seemed to be there.

With twinkle lights strung on every tree
and bush, tables laden with food and plastic crates full of iced soda, there
wasn’t much else the youngsters needed. Duane had even set up
a badminton
net at one end of the yard and some kids had a
healthy competition going on.

I’d kept the door to the cottage open,
with the bedroom doors locked.
Easy access to the restroom
and peace of mind for me.

I settled back in a lawn chair and
prepared to enjoy a time of people-watching. Nothing was more fun than watching
teenagers when they didn’t know they were being watched. In a while, once the
guests were comfortable and conversation flowed freely, I’d make the rounds and
see what information I could dig up.

“Mom.” Lindsey glared down at me. “Are
you going to sit there all night?”

“I was planning on it. Why?”

“Someone needs to stand by the punch
bowl. I’ve already dumped it out once, and since it’s my party, I don’t want to
spend it supervising.”

Uh-oh. “What’s happening?”

“Someone keeps spiking the punch.”

My daughter is the best thing since
sliced bread. “Do we know who the culprit is?”

“If I knew that, I’d have Uncle Duane
kick them out.” She gave me one of those teenage looks signifying I was as
bright as a box of rocks.

Sighing, I pushed out of my chair. “I’ll
watch the table. I’m very proud of you, sweetie.”

“Don’t embarrass me.” She glanced around
to make sure no one was watching,
then
hurried back
over to a group of girls.

I shrugged and headed to my assigned
position. Maybe supervising the snack table would allow me to snoop without
attracting unwanted attention. I’d managed to garner quite a bit of info at
Mom’s and Leroy’s engagement party a few months ago, while trying to solve the
mystery of things disappearing, literally under their owners’ noses. Of course,
that party was mostly adults, but sometimes kids knew things they weren’t aware
they knew.

Once I reached the table set up on the
side of the house, I sniffed the contents. Still suspicious, I poured a small
glass, took a sip, and promptly spewed it into the bushes. Darn, those kids.
Well, no more punch. If we’d already wasted two bowls full, I wasn’t about to
make any more. Sorry, Lindsey. The guests would have to be satisfied with water
and soda.

The chip bowl was empty, so I reached
under the table for a full bag. Straightening, I dumped the bag into the bowl
just as Darla and the man who had flipped Dottie off in the diner parking lot
strolled onto my lawn.

Over by the main house, Danny stood in
the shadows talking to Amber. If Darla spotted him, fireworks would fill the sky.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any more interesting, Stacy sauntered
into view, hanging on the arm of some stud-muffin of a stranger. Lindsey
giggled from something her ex-boyfriend, Bobby, whispered in her ear.

Was this a birthday party or a dating
service?

“Hey, good looking.” Duane snuck up and
nuzzled my neck.

“Hey, yourself.” I turned into his arms.
“Is this not the strangest sweet sixteen party you’ve ever seen? It’s more like
a Valentine’s Day party.”

“Hmmm.” He turned me to where my back was
to him and rested his chin on the top of my head. “Most likely it’s just people
feeling good because it’s one of the few nice weather days left before winter
sets in.”

“But where did they all come from? I’m
sure Lindsey didn’t invite Stacy or Darla. Danny, maybe, and Amber, but where
did the adults get notice?”

“Word travels fast.” His arms tightened,
snuggling me closer. There was no better feeling in the world than having my
beloved’s arms around me. Pretty much the way it felt to have God’s arms around
me: Safe and loved. “People hear the word ‘party’ and show up in droves.”

“If Darla sees Danny rubbing Amber’s
belly, we might have another murder on our hands.” I reluctantly slid free of
Duane’s hold. “I’d best warn him to take his little cozy conversation somewhere
else.” What I’d really like to do was tell his mother to leave, but I was
pretty certain Danny was the easier of the two to face.

Before I made it to his side, Dottie
stopped me. “Okay, Marsha. Now that the day of my imminent death is drawing
near, I must confess I’m getting a bit nervous. I’d like you to stay with me on
the 30
th
and the 31
st
day.”

My mouth opened and closed like a fish on
land. As much as I didn’t want anything to happen to the older woman, staying
with her for two days would put me in the line of fire. I was pretty sure Duane
wouldn’t allow me to guard her.

“I see your reluctance, but I’m begging
you.” She took my hand, her skin soft and paper thin. “I’m pretty sure nothing
will happen, but why chance it? The other women died alone. I live at the
retirement home, but…my name did appear in the obits. I’ll just tell the aides
at the home that we’re having a sleepover.”

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,
carrying 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.”

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