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Authors: Cynthia Hickey

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Chapter Twenty-Eight

I twirled in front of my full
-length mirror. A mighty fine version of Marilyn Monroe reflected back. All I needed was the air vent beneath me. I pretended to hold down the skirt, and giggled.

“Who are you supposed to be?” Dressed as a boy, Lindsey leaned against the door jamb.
“And why are you primping like that?”

My bubble burst. Of course, Lindsey wouldn’t recognize the
famous star. My face heated, and I straightened. Thankfully, most of the party guests were adults. “Never mind.”

“Oh, now I recognize her. She’s the girlfriend of President Kennedy.”

Good grief. What were they teaching her in school? I shoved past my daughter and sauntered outside. The yard looked wonderful. Once the sun set, the lights wrapped around every tree trunk would lend a festive air. I placed ribbons and lace on my mom’s and Leroy’s table. Candles flickered from borrowed tables of every size and shape. I grinned. Pretty good for a hillbilly festivity thrown together in two days. Leroy had even sprung for a country and western band.

I paused on the back step
and searched the crowd for Duane. He wanted his costume to be a secret. A horn blasted in the front of the house. Holding my skirt in place, I rushed around the corner. Laughter burst from me with all the force of a summer storm. Sitting behind the wheel of a vintage convertible was Duane’s imitation of a playboy. Slicked back hair, leisure suit, and a breeze carrying a whiff of delicious cologne. I should’ve guessed he’d figure out my costume. The wig and dress slung over my shoulder must have given me away.

He bounded over the side
of the car without opening the door and sprinted to my side to swing me up in his arms. “Before the night is over, I expect you to sing me ‘Happy Birthday, Mr. President’.” He nuzzled my ear. “You look hot.”

“Dream on, big guy.
Besides, you don’t look anything like a President.” Dangerous would be a more apt description. “Even compliments won’t get me to sing for you.”

“Too bad.”
Duane put me back on my feet and escorted me to the party.

The band started a rousing two-step, Lindsey and Billy splashed each other with water bottles,
and Mom linked arms with Leroy as they walked to the area set aside for dancing. In the shadows, fireflies added their merriment. Not one person wore a President Clinton mask. So much for that aspect of sleuthing. Oh, well. A night of fun and celebration beckoned. Plus, I hung on the arm of the handsomest man in the entire state of Arkansas.

Stephanie, dressed in a trench coat and hat with lips painted redder than mine sat at a table with her husband, Mark. He wore his pharmacist coat.
The man obviously had no imagination since he worked as a pharmacist. Marilyn wore the sequined dress and a black wig with tresses hanging half-way down her back. She flirted with a young man I didn’t know. Only one of my suspects was unaccounted for. Melvin hadn’t returned after doing his job earlier in the day. Bruce stood near the buffet table, getting an early start on loading his plate.

“Stop sleuthing for one minute and dance with me.” Duane swung me into a two-step.

“Who said I was sleuthing?”

“It’s obvious.” His breath tickled my neck. “Now, suppose you tell me why you set up this little shindig?”

“My mother’s engagement.” I found it difficult to talk and concentrate on my steps at the same time. Luckily, Duane was lighter on his feet then me and kept his toes away from harm’s reach.

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay. Lindsey and I thought someone might show up in a Clinton mask. A long shot, I know, but I’m ready to try anything.”

“Why?”

I stopped and turned to face him, knowing exactly what his one-word question meant. “I don’t know, really. It started as a way of clearing Lindsey’s name. Now, I just want to know what the connection is. I’m certain there is one and it’s driving me crazy.”

He led me back into the dance steps. “
You’ve always been impetuous, but this could be dangerous. You need to think everything through carefully.”

“Excuse me?” I yanked free of his grasp. “I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were.” Hurt feelings radiated across his face.

“You insinuated.” I planted fists on my hips.

His brows drew together. “No, I didn’t. I’m just giving you a word of caution because I love you.”

“Humph.” I whirled and stalked to the buffet table then grabbed a glass of pink lemonade.
Duane stood where I left him, his jaw set, and a stormy look on his face. What was I thinking? Two hot heads in a relationship? We were doomed to failure before we get started.

“Mom.”
Lindsey approached with Billy in tow. “This is Billy Butler.” My daughter lifted her chin. “I thought it was time for y’all to formally meet.”

The young man in front of me shifted from foot to foot, but held my gaze. Long dark hair fell forward over one eye. His strong chin sported a cleft. It wasn’t hard to see why he’d caught Lindsey’s eye. I stuck out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Billy.”

“Ma’am.” He nodded. “Lindsey said you suspected me in the thefts. I’m here to clear your mind of that idea.”

I opened my mouth then shut it. Lindsey had accused him more than me. What did my daughter have up her sleeve
? “I have several people on my list.”

“It’s true that I need money for camp, but I’m working, doing odd jobs here and there. I’d never steal.” He squared his shoulders. “My mother taught me better than that.”

“I can see that.” And I could. A light shined from Billy I wished I saw in myself when I looked in the mirror. But I couldn’t help reminding myself history showed many good men were brought down by the greed of money.

He grinned and grabbed Lindsey’s hand. They strolled away, leaning into each other, leaving me alone with Duane across the yard. His face softened and he hurried to my side. “Still mad?”

“No. I wasn’t really. Just frustrated, I think.” I melted into his arms. “I’m missing something obvious.”

“What can I do to help?”

I leaned back and gazed into his face. “You’d help?”

“If it will keep you out of trouble.”

“I can’t guarantee that.” His arms wrapped around me provided my own slice of heaven. “Duane.”

“Hmmm?” We swayed in time with the slow song the band played.

I closed my eyes.
“I just can’t figure out why people aren’t remembering what happened when they were robbed. It’s like they black out. I know I did. And now, two people are dead.”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. But I still wish you’d leave things to Bruce.”

“You promised to help.” And Bruce’s ego-swaggering, little-man syndrome, didn’t instill a lot of confidence in me.

“And I will.”
His chin rested on my head.

A shriek of metal against metal
rang from the driveway. Duane grabbed my hand and dragged me with him. I fought with my billowing dress, trying, without success, not to flash my assets. Someone gave a wolf whistle and my face could’ve set the barbecue on fire. I felt a definite summer breeze in places meant to be covered.

Duane stopped at the edge of the yard sudden enough I rammed into him from the back. I lifted a hand to my throbbing nose.

“Uh-oh.”

I glanced at Duane. “Uh-oh, what?” Stepping around him, I cringed. Melvin sat on top of his lawnmower which sat flush against my Prius. What had he done? I dashed across the gravel driveway, trying not to fall on ankles that wobbled in high heels. “Melvin Brown. Look what you’ve done!”

The odor of liquor slapped me in the face, and I staggered back. “You’ve been drinking.”

He shook his head. “
Only a drop.” His chin fell forward and sobs wracked his body.

Uh. I glanced to Duane for help. He nodded and moved forward.

By this time, most of the guests gathered around us, lemonade or soda in one hand, plates piled with food in the other. Our town sure could draw a crowd anytime there was food, music, or disaster. If a person could sell tickets, they would make a fortune.

Duane clapped a hand on Melvin’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

Melvin shook his head, still unable to speak. I’d never seen the man so distraught. Disgruntled, yes. Grouchy, definitely. But like his world had ended? Never.

“Can we call someone for you?” Duane peered into the man’s red face.

“I need to speak with Bruce. Someone said he was here.”

“Are you hurt?”

Melvin wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his stained tee shirt. “When I was over here mowing, someone broke into my house and took all the money I’ve been saving to start my own business.”

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Melvin had been mowing at my house when he was robbed, which meant he’d been awake, figuratively speaking. That seemed to throw my theory of the thief drugging people out the window. If I
had
a clear theory, that is. This case was murkier than a stirred up river bottom.

“Break it up.” Bruce strolled up, his chest puffed out like a rooster. “
Let the police do their job. I’ll handle this.” He whipped out a notepad and pencil from his pocket. “Start from the beginning and tell me what happened.”

Melvin sniffled.

“After you stop crying.” Bruce rolled his eyes and shook his head. Obviously the little monkey thought it unmanly for Melvin to shed tears over the theft of months of hard work.

Repentance shot through me. Mom would be scandalized to know I harbored uncharitable thoughts about someone. But Bruce could be a regular thorn in someone’s side.
“Be nice.” I scowled. “He’s lost his life savings.”


So he says. That’s what I’m here to find out.” Bruce’s look clearly told me to stay out of it; which made me more determined to stick around.

Duane put an arm around my shoulder
and pulled me close. Most likely to hold me in check, rather than a sign of affection.

Melvin took a deep shuddering breath. “Like. . .I said. I. . .mowed the Calloway’s yard.
The grass was real long so it took about an hour.”

Mom gave me a look. Mowing was usually my job, but between work and clearing Lindsey’s name, I hadn’t found the time.


When I got home, I noticed my back door was open. You got to yank on it to get it to latch, and I’m real careful about locking up when I leave. So, I pushed it open real slow like.” He speared Bruce with a glance. “Could’ve been killed on my doorstep by a deranged murderer for all the protection we get in this town. Anyway, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary … at first.”

Melvin
wiped his eye with the back of his hand. “But when I went to hang up my coat, I saw the shoe box I’d been keeping my money in was moved about an inch. I opened it and. . .it was empty.” Sobs retook control of his body. “Gone. All of it. I had close to a thousand dollars.”

How did someone know where Melvin hid his money? A shoebox
in the coat closet wasn’t a common stashing place, was it? “Melvin, how many people knew that shoebox was in your closet?”

Bruce glared at me. “I’m handling this, Marsha.”

“I think I told Kyle, but he can’t pass the information on. He’s dead.”

Thanks for the reminder. I shuddered. Someone told somebody.
Kyle could’ve before he died. If he did, it wasn’t his sister. She still languished in the town’s one jail cell.

I studied the faces of the curious onlookers.
Most stuffed their faces with the contents of their plates like popcorn at a movie. Others whispered with curious glances toward Melvin and Bruce. No one showed a smidgeon of a guilty conscience. It would make solving this case easier if someone had shifty eyes, or kept looking everywhere but at us. I’d take scuffing of a foot in the dirt at this point.

“Think harder. You must have told someone.”

Melvin raised red-rimmed eyes to me. “I don’t know.”

“I told you to butt out, Marsha.
Do you have cotton in your ears?” A muscle ticked in Bruce’s jaw. “If you don’t stop, I’ll haul you to the station for obstruction of justice.”

He wouldn’t
dare arrest me! Fine. I’d question Melvin myself later.

Duane must have recognized the look on my face, because he bent low and whispered, “Heed Bruce’s advice, Marsha.”

I plastered on the sweetest smile I could. “Of course.”

“Do you have other money stashed around your place?” Bruce’s pencil scratched the surface of the paper.

Melvin’s eyes widened. “I ain’t telling you that with all these looky-Lu’s here!”

Bruce continued to scratch notes on his pad. “You come down to the station in the morning to sign a statement. I ought to haul you in now for public drunkenness, but what the heck.”

Duane nuzzled my ear. “I know what you’re thinking, so at least let me go with you on snoop patrol.” My man knew me so well. Duane kissed me then led me to the side of the crowd as Bruce slapped his notebook closed and marched past us to his patrol car. Melvin roared his lawnmower to life and cut a short swatch through my lawn on his way off the property. I’d give him fifteen minutes to get home, then Duane and I could sneak away.

The crowd parted like the red sea to let me pass to the back yard.
Duane headed to the drink table to grab two water bottles. Mom caught up with me, a bit unsteady on her high heels. She wore an outdated, one-size-too-small wedding dress. I bit my lip to keep from grinning.

“What is going on in this town?”
Penciled eyebrows rose.

“Wish I knew.
But someone is raking in the dough.” And it wasn’t us.

“I haven’t heard of any big deposits down at the bank.
You know Ira would’ve told me. Woman can’t keep her lips from flapping to save her life. No one’s throwing money around. Not with today’s economy, anyway.” Mom tapped her lip with a press-on French-manicured nail. “Whoever’s doing the stealing, is keeping a low profile.”

“Keep an ear out, okay?” I gave her a quick hug. “Duane and I are headed over to question Melvin some more.”

“Perfect. I’ll eavesdrop during the rest of the party.” Mom yoo-hooed to Leroy and sashayed in his direction, her hips swinging like a bell.

Good grief. Sometimes she acted like a teenage girl on the prowl.
Crooking a finger in Duane’s direction, I marched to his truck, hiked up my dress, and climbed in. The itchy wig I wore, soon sat next to me on the seat. Fifteen minutes later, we pulled in front of Melvin’s ranch-style house.

Even in the dusk of evening, I could see his landscaping could win an award. During the day, the lawn must burst with a rainbow of color.
It was as lush and plush as expensive carpet. A porch light illuminated a rock walkway. As soon as I came into enough money of my own, I’d hire Melvin for more than mowing. He could design a backyard paradise.

“Wow. Nice yard.” Duane slid from behind the wheel and stared almost reverently at the grounds. “This guy has talent.
No wonder he wants to open his own landscaping business.”

“Yep. Let’s go see if he has answers.” A rising breeze whipped my dress up around my waist. Duane laughed. Good thing I’d had the foresight to wear
those shorts teenage practiced cheer in.

Melvin greeted us on the porch. “Figured you’d show up
, nosey woman. Howdy, Duane.”

“Melvin.” The two shook hands, leaving me to stew about Melvin’s comment.

Nosey! I’d find out what was going on around here, then everyone would be thankful I had an inquisitive nature. Swallowing my pride, I motioned toward the door. “Can we step inside?”

“Sure.” Melvin led the way. So much for modern-day chivalry. At least Duane held the door for me. “Ask your questions.”

“Can I look at the closet?”

He raised his eyebrows. “It’s just a place to hang my coats
and stash my cash, but sure.”

The closet in question sat right beside the front door. No way could they both be opened at the same time without hitting
against each other. So, logically, someone could’ve been in and out within a couple of minutes. But there was still the fact they had to know the money was kept there.

On the top shelf rested a single box.
The solitary object practically shouted, “Open me.” No hats or gloves shared the space. Easy to guess someone would’ve lifted the lid and taken a peek. I glanced around the room. No throw pillows on the sofa. No magazines on the glass top coffee table. Not even an empty soda can marred the clean surfaces. I never would’ve figured Melvin for a neat freak.


Why don’t you use the bank, Melvin?”

“Are you nuts? I ain’t giving the government none of my hard-earned money.
Other than what I have to pay in taxes, they ain’t getting a dime.”

I rolled my eyes. “
Think. Who knew you had money?”

He sagged into an easy chair. “Anybody. I talked about saving money for the last few months. The only thing they didn’t know was how much I had
or where I kept it. Most of the folks around here know I don’t trust banks.”

This would be a hard case to crack. Someone knew the occupants of this town
, and knew them well.

 

BOOK: Deadly Neighbors
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