Advance Notice (A River Valley Mystery, book 2) Read online

  Once he left, the doctor and Duane came back in. The doctor finished my cast and an hour later, Duane drove me home. “I know you’re itching to find out more details about what happened today, but please let it rest until tomorrow. Give your ankle one day of peace.”

  Since the day was almost over, that wouldn’t be a problem.

  Duane drove me home and carried me into the house. After setting me on the sofa, fluffing pillows behind me and placing an afghan across my legs, he handed me the television remote. “It’s your lucky day. We can watch any chick flick you want.”

  “As long as you sit next to me, I don’t care what we watch. We can rest my foot in your lap.”

  “Won’t that jostle you?”

  “I want you close—”

  The front door banged open. “You broke your foot?” Hurricane Lindsey blew into the room. “We can’t leave you alone for a minute, Mom. You’re a danger to yourself.” Tears glimmered in her eyes, showing me that she cared, despite the fists on her thin hips. “I don’t want to put you in a nursing home for at least ten more years.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Because every woman wants to go in a home before the age of fifty.

  “Sweetie—” Duane reached for her.

  “And you!” Lindsey turned with a snarl. “You’re going to be her husband. You should take better care of her. First she’s shot at, and now…this. Both while you were with her.” She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

  Duane pulled my daughter into his arms. Her head nestled in the curve of his shoulder, same as mine did when he held me. I smiled through my tears. Although five years old when her father, Duane’s brother died, Lindsey couldn’t find a better replacement than in the man I intended to marry. Seeing how he related to her, how he soothed her fears, made me reconsider my hesitancy in trying for a second child. Duane would make a wonderful father.

  After Lindsey’s cries turned to quiet hiccups, Duane led her to the easy chair by the window. He gently sat her down, then knelt in front of her. “I’m sorry your mother was hurt today. Whenever that happens, it rips out my heart. Don’t you know how much I want to keep her safe?”

  “I know.” Lindsey nodded. “Mom makes it difficult.”

  Duane hid a laugh in a cough and winked at me. “Horribly difficult.”

  “I’m afraid someone is really going to hurt her bad someday. Like someone did to Amber.”

  I straightened, knocking one of my pillows to the floor. “Who told you about Amber?”

  “Danny.” She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her long-sleeved tee-shirt. “He’s pretty upset.”

  Understandably so, since he’s the father of her baby. “Where did you see Danny?”

  “Pacing up and down in front of the crime scene tape by Harvey’s Hardware.” She sniffed. “Once he found out it was Amber, he was almost inconsolable. Kept saying he’s had enough. He acted like a crazy person.”

  Enough of what was the question of the day. Darn this broken foot of mine, and the medication that kept me woozy. I should be out there hitting the pavement, hunting up clues, and catching a murderer. “Where was Bruce while Danny did his little walk?”

  “Staring at everyone who walked by, and yelling at anyone who got too close.” She shook her head. “That man is really stressed.”

  At least her bad attitude was off of me.

  “And then Danny’s mom showed up and the two went at each other like insane people. Bruce had to pull them apart. They sure don’t act like mother and son.” She gave Duane a hug. “Thanks. I’m sorry I yelled at you, but Mom scares me to death sometimes.”

  “Yeah, she scares me, too.” He grunted as he got to his feet. “Want me to order pizza?”

  “Definitely.” She plopped on to the sofa, bumping my leg with her arm. I hissed through my teeth, but kept a smile plastered on my face. If she knew how much pain I was in, she’d start ranting again about my carelessness. “Does Grandma know you’ve hurt yourself again?”

  “Uh.” I glanced at Duane.

  “I didn’t tell her, but then Lindsey managed to find out fast enough.” He glanced at his watch. “The store isn’t closed yet. Maybe she’s sticking around for a last minute customer.”

  “Maybe.” But it wasn’t like her to at least call if she knew. I called Mom’s cell phone.

  “What?” she whispered. “I’m hot on the trail of a suspect.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.” Click.

  “She hung up on me.” I stared at the screen on my phone. “She said she was hot on the trail of a suspect.”

  “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?” Duane fished out his own cell phone. “I’ll try to see if Leroy knows anything.” He punched in numbers, then sighed. “Went to voice mail. Try your mom again.”

  I did. “Mom, are you chasing a suspect for Amber’s death?”

  “Amber’s dead? God in heaven, help us. No, we’re following a suspect in the old lady killings.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Time was running out for Dottie.

  According to the schedule of prior events, she had two days left to walk this earth. I was rapidly losing any hope of stopping a killer before he or she claimed another victim.

  After Mom’s fiasco of following two electricians while they drove around in an unmarked panel van the other day, and having Bruce question her when the guys placed a call to the station about a suspicious character tailing them, no one seemed to be doing anything to find the real killer. Now, the day had come to put Amber and her unborn child to rest.

  I smoothed my navy pinstriped skirt, and then secured my hair in a barrette away from face. I hated funerals, especially ones for young people.

  “Here’s your shoe.” Lindsey handed me a silver ballet flat.

  Since I still wore the cast, Lindsey had appointed herself my guardian, letting me, and anyone within hearing, know that I was incapable of taking care of myself. As much as I loved spending time with my one and only child, her constant hovering drove me bonkers.

  “Do you need to lean on me to the car? Is Uncle Duane picking us up? I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to drive.”

  “I broke my left foot, not the one I drive with.” I will not bite her head off. I will not bite her head off. “And yes, Uncle Duane should be here any minute.” I slipped silver earrings into my ears, then surveyed myself in the mirror.

  Not turning to my M&Ms every time I felt stressed had helped a few pounds drop off. Add to that, the fact I’d updated my wardrobe, and I didn’t feel as if I’d shame Duane in public. At least not with the way I looked.

  “Y’all ready?” Duane called from the front room.

  “Yes.” Lindsey took my arm and tried leading me like an old woman out of the bedroom.

  I rolled my eyes and let her. Someday, she might have to care for me for real. Nothing good could come for dissuading her now.

  Duane greeted me with a kiss and took over from my daughter, letting me walk beside him. My man knew what I wanted, and that was mostly independence with a huge dose of love and respect thrown in.

  The three of us met up with Mom and Leroy on the church steps. From the amount of cars in the parking lot, half of River Valley had shown up. Funerals always drew a crowd, and folks always said the killer attended the funeral of his victim. Maybe something would jump out at me that would help put this mystery to rest.

  The five of us squeezed into a pew two rows behind Stacy, me sitting on the end so my leg could stick into the aisle. A polished mahogany casket sat on a pedestal, a red swatch of silk draping across one end. Flowers cascaded off the top of the silk. Stacy had spared no expense for her younger sister.

  Stacy’s cries rose above the soft music being piped in from a hidden speaker. My heart went out to her, no matter how strong our personal differences. I reached over and grabbed Lindsey’s hand. We knew the pain of loss.

  Dottie slid in behind us and leaned on the pew back. “Well, looks like I’
m a goner. Only God can find the culprit in the amount of time I have left.”

  “There’s still hope.” Mom patted her hand. “Marsha and I won’t sleep until we find the person responsible for all the deaths, Amber included.”

  “We know who killed Amber!” Stacy whipped around like a cobra. “That…that…Darla should be in jail.”

  “Not without proof.” Mom crossed her arms and got that ‘look’. If Stacy were smart, or not blinded by grief, she’d back off.

  Dottie stood. “I’m sorry your sister is dead, but I’m still alive, and we need to focus on keeping me that way. Darla isn’t smart enough to rig a house to blow up.”

  “But she can bash somebody in the head.” Stacy stood and moved to the aisle.

  Duane got up and placed himself between them. “Ladies, please—”

  Darla pushed through the church doors and made a beeline for the screaming couple. “How dare you spray paint my car! I can’t even drive it with those words on it.”

  Stacy’s lip curled. “How dare you kill my sister.”

  “You ruined my life years ago, you stupid sl—”

  “Hey.” Duane put his hands on Darla’s shoulders and pulled her back while mouthing for me to call the police. “We don’t need to resort to name calling. A little help here, Leroy.”

  “Nah.” He laughed. “I’m kind of hoping to see some hair pulling.”

  I transferred my attention from one to the other like a spectator at a ping pong tournament. Sure seemed like the hatred between the two ran deep, and they’d veered from the reason we were all gathered. Now that Dottie was out of the skirmish, she stood to the side, arms crossed, head cocked to the side. I’d pay a dollar to know what was going through her wily head. Other spectators watched with wide eyes and open mouths.

  Mom smacked Leroy on the shoulder, then scooted past Lindsey, her rounded rump obstructing my view for a moment, before she joined the party in the aisle. “Y’all are making a scene. A young mother-to-be is dead, and all you care about are past grievances.”

  Flashbulbs went off. Who took pictures at a funeral? I craned my neck, surprised to see Frank Powell. I supposed with money at the newspaper tight, he’d undertaken the role of photographer in addition to his other duties.

  “Mind your own business.” Darla snarled and yanked free of Duane’s grip. She two-hand shoved Stacy hard enough to knock the younger woman to her rear, then turned on Mom. The moment the woman’s hand connected with Mom’s face, I was out of my seat and into the aisle by the time Stacy resumed her footing.

  “Duane, find Bruce.” I shoved my way between the fighting women. “No one hits my momma.”

  “I’m needed here.” Duane pinned Darla’s arms behind her back and started dragging her toward the door. She cussed and kicked, her hair flying around her face.

  “I’ll find him.” Leroy slid from the pew and dashed out a side door.

  I followed my man and his deranged captive to the patch of grass outside the church. When Darla landed a well-aimed kick to Duane’s shin, I pinched her upper arm as hard as I could. “Stop it right now!”

  Using my sternest ‘mom’ voice and look, I shook a finger in her face. “This is a funeral. Regardless of your feelings toward the poor young woman who is dead inside, show some respect for the House of God.”

  Darla froze. Her face crumbled, and she sagged out of Duane’s grip. Collapsing to the ground, she covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry. What came over me? You’re right. I’m out of line. There’s so much bad blood between Stacy and I. More than work related competition. More than our love for family members’ deaths. Enough drama to fill a book.”

  I kneeled in front of her. “I know about your husband’s infidelity, but today is not the day to air that grievance.”

  Bruce approached, dangling handcuffs, their clanking filling the air. “Okay, step back.”

  “No” Darla shook her head, her hands falling to her lap, revealing a face which lacked red eyes or tear tracks. “You can’t take me to jail.”

  “Just long enough for you to cool down,” he said. “Stand up and turn around. You’ll be out by morning.”

  By this time, those inside the church had stepped outside, forming a loose circle around us. Mom’s cheek still sported the imprint of Darla’s hand. I felt no pity for the woman, only thoughts of how a few hours or one night behind bars was not enough for a woman who would cause such a scene at a funeral. Besides, I found it curious that her loud sobbing left no visible traces of grief on her face.

  Spotting Danny on the outskirts of the crowd, I headed his way as Bruce led the young man’s mother to a squad car. The boy looked like the grief his mother pretended to feel. Eyes bloodshot, face haggard, shoulders slumped under a heavy burden.

  I held out my hand. “Have you been inside to say goodbye?”

  He shook his head, not taking my hand. I let it drop. “Come with me. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

  After taking one glance toward the church, Danny whirled and raced into the trees. Maybe Stacy frightened him more than I thought. Maybe he suffered guilt over Amber’s pregnancy. I shrugged. No way of knowing for sure, unless he told me, and I felt pretty sure that wouldn’t happen. I clomped my way back to the church, where Duane waited for me by the steps.

  “Everything all right?” He put an arm around my shoulders.

  I nodded. “He’s a very distraught young man.”

  He nodded and led me back to our seat. Once everyone settled back into their chosen spots, the minister stepped up to the podium. I felt pretty sure he’d never seen a service quite like the one that day.

  While he talked about God picking another rose for His garden, my mind wandered. I honestly tried to concentrate, but the events of the last hour swirled through my mind. Something important happened that day…something about the murders… a clue, but I couldn’t see what.

  I remained in my seat as attendees began to file past the casket. Viewing a dead body left me cold. I’d rather remember Amber as the pretty, but sullen store clerk with heavily made up eyes. Not a wax figure in a box.

  Catching a glimpse of Danny skulking outside the open window of the church, I excused myself and clunked my way outside. “Danny.” I peered around the corner to see him disappear around another. He’d always seemed a bit sneaky to me, now his actions proved my suspicions correct.

  When I got around to the back of the church, Danny stood plastered against the wall, his head turned toward a window. “Who are you waiting for?”

  He yelped and whirled, quickly shoving something into his pocket. “Uh, no one. I’m just attending the funeral of my girlfriend and baby.”

  “Then why not go inside?” I tilted my head.

  “That Stacy chick won’t want me there.”

  “True, but she can’t legally keep you out.”

  He frowned and his face darkened. “Maybe not, but she managed to get my mother sent to jail.”

  “That was your mother’s fault.” Relax. Don’t anger him. Maybe I could get some answers, since he seemed receptive to conversation. “Why don’t you live with your mother?”

  “My grandparents are alone. It isn’t good for old people to live alone.”

  True, at least recently. “Okay, but that leaves your mother alone.”

  “She isn’t old.” He shook his head. “Is there a point to these questions, Mrs. Steele? Because, I’m not in the mood for idle conversation.”

  “I guess you’re not.” I stepped closer, then stopped as he stiffened. “I’m sorry about Amber, Danny. They’ll find out who killed her.”

  “What? She wasn’t murdered. She fell and hit her head.”

  “That is what I’ve heard.” I glanced to where people started emerging from inside the church.

  “You think someone killed her?” His fists clenched. A steely look came over his face, and I took another step back. “Why do you think that?”

  No way was I going to tell this angry young man that I s
uspected his mother. “I don’t know. No one told me the official cause of death. Because of the other deaths, I assumed—”

  “Those people were old! Amber is young and beautiful. People will miss her.” A drop of spittle hung from his bottom lip. He leaned closer. “She. Fell. And. Hit. Her. Head.”

  “Understood.” I watched him march toward the highway, anger in every line of his trembling body.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “I’m coming, Dottie. Your thirty days aren’t actually up until tomorrow, and nobody dies before their time.” I tossed my slippers into my suitcase and zipped it closed. A shudder ran through me at the thought of two days with the crotchety woman, but a promise was a promise. On the plus side, she was bound to fill my ear with gossip for the column, which I was quitting as soon as the killer was found. Something about airing folks’ dirty secrets bothered me.

  “Don’t act like it’s going to kill you.”

  The fact remained that staying with Dottie could very well kill me. Sure, the victims were all elderly women who lived alone, but what if the killer didn’t know I was there and went ahead with his or her diabolical plan to blow us up? It might be difficult with Dottie living in a retirement community, but not impossible.

  “How am I going to watch out for you at Dottie’s?” Lindsey plopped across my bed.

  “You could come with me.” I grinned.

  “Not in this lifetime. Maybe you could take Grandma with you. Safety in numbers and Grandma is more her age.”

  I laughed. “Don’t let her hear you say that. There’s at least a twenty-year age difference between the two.”

  She shrugged. “Hard to tell. Anyway, what can you possibly do with someone that age?”

  “I think we’re playing Bingo tonight, after hitting the Senior Early Bird Special at Wanda’s.” Which I didn’t mind, since it’d been a few years since I’d enjoyed a rousing game of Bingo, and any meal at Wanda’s was a good one.

  “Y’all are really living it up.” Lindsey giggled and plucked at a loose thread on my quilt. “I’ll make sure to deliver a case of Ensure before your bedtime at six.”