Crime for the books, p.1
Crime for the Books, page 1
Crime for the Books
A JANE DOE BOOK CLUB MYSTERY
Kate Young
For my son, Matthew, our resident comedian. You’re one for the books.
Chapter One
The clouds looked ominous as I walked our client out of the office and locked the door. An inconspicuous glance at my watch informed me of the late hour. I needed to get to the library ASAP. I turned with a smile, extending my hand. The older woman’s brow wrinkled with the stress of her situation, and a tad of guilt overtook me. “Relax. We have everything in hand, and I assure you, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. The case is straightforward. The will is solid.”
Elaine took my hand and gave me a slight smile. “Thank you. Your grandmother nearly twisted my arm when we were at the beauty parlor last month. She insisted you would be able to make sense of this mess and put my mind at ease. And she was right. You’ve been a godsend. Not that I would go around touting that Daisy Moody saved me.” The older woman chuckled. “It’d go straight to her head.”
I grinned. “Wise. Gran’s ego is large enough. And I know how convincing she can be when she puts her mind to something. She means well, and in this instance, I am glad she pushed you my way.”
The woman shook her head in a bemused fashion. “Me too. And I know how Daisy is. I was only teasing. She has a heart of gold.” She glanced at her watch. “I appreciate you waiting for me to get this check to you. I know I’m old-fashioned. But I still like to use my checks and hand-deliver them when feasible.”
“I understand, and we’re glad to accommodate whatever method of payment our clients feel comfortable with.” I’d been a little surprised when she insisted on the paper transaction. We’d not had one client pay by check in all the years I’d worked for my uncle. Personally, I didn’t even own any checks. Never seen the need for them.
“I do appreciate it.” She took a step off the curb just as an old gray Mustang came roaring down the street.
“Elaine!” I reached out and grabbed her arm, jerking her back onto the sidewalk seconds before the car nearly hit her.
“Maniac!” I shouted at the driver, who flew over the train tracks like a bat out of hell. Several other pedestrians jumped out of the way. A man threw his hands in the air and shouted as the woman next to him began snapping pictures of the car with her phone. Good.
“Are you okay?”
Elaine looked a little dazed as she patted her damp forehead. Then she let out a little nervous chuckle. “Yes. Wow. My life flashed before my eyes.”
Her hand went to her chest and rested on her heart, which was probably pounding and definitely causing me some worry.
“I thought gridlock in the city was bad on my way here. But at least I didn’t nearly get mowed down by some lunatic.” She took a deep breath, and another little giggle escaped her lips. Her reaction reminded me of my friend Melanie. She always laughed when something frightened her too.
“Wowee! It’s nuts like that who make me grateful for my move to Sweet Mountain back in the eighties. I thought back then that God only knew how bald I’d be now from yanking my hair out during the Atlanta traffic jams. But I might be bald yet.” She cast a glance in the direction the car had gone. Her face was flushed, and the whites of her eyes were showing. “Sheesh.”
“I’ll report them, and I think several others will too.” I motioned to where a little crowd had congregated in the center of the square. I took her hand and squeezed it. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
“Yes, yes. I’m fine.” Thunder rolled. Elaine glanced up, and her hand went to her newly permed brown hair as if her hands would protect her curls. “Looks like another front is coming through today. I was hoping that last downpour an hour ago was going to be it.”
Elaine dug through her bag, retrieving her umbrella. Her hand shook a little.
When she noticed me watching, her face flushed. I glanced up at the angry-looking green sky to avoid causing her any embarrassment. The scent of rain hung in the air, and the humidity seemed to thicken around us. It felt more like spring than fall.
“The weather has been crazy lately,” I said.
“Indeed. It’s been years since we’ve had severe weather this late in the year.” The older woman leaned forward and surprised me with an impromptu hug. It felt a little awkward with her large patent leather bag and umbrella between us. “You’ve been a godsend, young lady. Truly.”
“Oh, well, I’m glad.” I gave her a little pat on the back before she retreated to where she’d stood a moment ago. “We appreciate your trust in us, and I can assure you, your cousin doesn’t have a chance at mounting another attempt at a case.”
“That’s good to hear.” She seemed to be calming, and I could tell talking to me was helping her. I could be a little late to my club meeting.
“Daisy’s insistence isn’t the only reason I came to you.” She tucked her umbrella under her arm. “Calvin’s reputation—and yours too, of course—for stellar work has traveled far and wide.” She briefly motioned to our sign above the door, Cousins Investigative Services Inc, displayed in a glossy bold gray blue and outlined in white.
Far and wide sounded like a bit of a stretch to me, but it’s always nice to know people think well of the job you’re doing. Reputation could make or break a business like ours.
“That is kind of you to say. This case is all but closed, but if anything comes up that needs my attention, you give me a call, and I’ll take care of it. Or if you feel threatened in any way, don’t hesitate—call the police immediately.” I touched her arm. “I can’t stress this enough.”
She shook her head. “Thank you, and I will, but I’m sure, since they served Patricia the paperwork, this whole nightmare is over.” Her shoulders rose and fell with the deep breath she took. “On a positive note, we are all so excited about the Halloween party this weekend.”
Elaine’s smile made it to her gray eyes then. She pulled out the folded-up issue of the Sweet Mountain Gazette that had been sticking out of her purse and chuckled as she turned to the earmarked section.
“We all had a good laugh from this.” She pointed to the page of the newspaper advertising our party—a fun little write-up that I’d called in a favor to have printed.
The announcement read: A murder is announced: A murder will take place on Friday, October 15th, at Magnolia Manor bed and breakfast at 6.30 p.m. Come for a night of fifties-themed sleuthing fun and join the Jane Doe Book Club in discovering whodunnit.
“What a clever party idea. I read a lot of Agatha Christie in my thirties. She sure can weave a tale.”
“Yes, ma’am. And the credit all goes to the Queen of Mystery. After all, she came up with it. I simply borrowed it for an evening.” I smiled. The Jane Does had all agreed it would be a nice touch to keep with the book’s era. “I can’t wait to don my new frock and have a ripping good time,” I said in my best British accent, which was terrible.
Elaine’s smile widened. “You’re too much.” She gave me a little tap on the shoulder with the paper before putting it back in her bag. “The B and B is completely booked, and the phone still hasn’t stopped ringing. We’ve been sending business to the Holiday Inn & Suites up the road, and I hear they’re almost at capacity. Isn’t that something?”
She was being modest. Her bed-and-breakfast never had any issues booking up. You usually had to schedule your stay months in advance. The manor was constantly being reserved for weddings and anniversary parties. We’d only managed to secure the date because of a last-minute cancellation. Elaine’s kindness hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“We are so grateful for the use of your beautiful property. It will be a night to remember. I simply can’t wait.”
“I’m glad to accommodate. It was meant to be.” A drizzle began to fall from the sky, and we both opened our umbrellas. “I better run. I’m sorry to have kept you so late.”
“Not a problem,” I assured her. “And drive safely.”
We waved our good-byes before I dashed across the street toward my car.
“Lyla!” Someone called just as I tossed my bag onto the passenger’s seat. Not seeing anyone and believing I’d imagined it, I slid into the car.
As I leaned over and dug through my bag for a comb, my passenger door opened, and my little gran slid onto the seat. “I’ve been hollering and hollering at you from down the road a piece.” She sounded out of breath.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear or see you.” I hugged her and pulled my bag onto my lap.
“Yeah, well, you and Elaine were gabbing.” She forgave me and pinched my cheek.
I rubbed the spot she’d created. “I thought you were getting dropped off at the library.”
We were going to be so late. But it couldn’t be helped. Earlier, I’d texted my best friend, Melanie, who would be leading tonight’s book club discussion, with news of my tardiness.
Gran shook her head. Her once reddish-gold hair was now snow white and had currently lost its body thanks to the rain. I’d inherited the red-gold hair gene. “Sally Anne and I were having an early dinner at the Market Deli. And Elaine mentioned she’d be stopping by here after she met with her lawyer in Atlanta. I decided to meet up with you and catch a ride.”
I started the car. “You should have called me. I would have picked you up.”
“I needed the exercise. Poor Elaine looked tired when I saw her yesterday. How was she?”
“Okay.” Elaine had seemed tired today as well. The case had taken a toll on her.
“B less her heart; she’s still having moments of going back and forth on whether she should just give that second cousin of hers something. Can you believe that?”
Elaine hadn’t mentioned that to me. After all the trouble her cousin had caused her, it was surprising. I wasn’t in the judging business, but it seemed counterproductive at this late stage of the case.
“That’s her choice. The business is hers solely. She can do what she wishes with it.” I stowed my purse behind my seat.
“Yeah, well, if that second cousin of hers would stop showing her worst side, then she might have a better chance at a reconciliation. It’s a mess. It’s a good thing Elaine came to you when she did. I told her my little Lyla will straighten everything out.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Gran had always been my biggest fan. I smiled at her, and she pinched my cheek again.
“Ouch.” I pushed her hand away as I pulled out of the parking lot. “What’s with all the pinching lately?”
She shrugged. “Sally Anne pinches her grandkids. She said all good southern grandmothers do that. I thought I’d try it.”
“Well, stop. Sally Anne’s words aren’t gospel.”
“Okay. It didn’t feel right to me either.” She pointed toward the orange leaves as the trees blew violently around the downtown square. “Look at that wind.”
Workers on ladders were abandoning their task of stringing lights around tree bases and across storefront awnings throughout our sleepy little town. In a few days, the city would host our annual Octoberfest Pub Crawl. I hoped we had better weather for it. My friends and I looked forward to the crawl every year. I pulled up to the stop sign. A horn blew the second I came to a complete stop. I glanced in my rearview mirror to see the gray Mustang behind me.
“Oh my God! I think that’s the jerk who nearly ran Elaine over a few minutes ago.”
“What?” Gran craned her neck to see behind us. “They almost ran y’all over?”
The driver flashed their lights at me and laid on the horn. Maniac! What was his problem?
“Hold your dang horses!” Gran shook her bony fist at the driver.
I’d started to move forward when the driver accelerated. The tires squealed as the car maneuvered into oncoming traffic, nearly sideswiping a minivan. I slammed on my breaks. The minivan swerved into my lane but managed to straighten out.
Gran swore a blue streak and leaned over to slam her hand on my horn.
“We should tail him! If I had one of those big pickup trucks, he’d be sorry. I would be just like that fella in the Unhinged movie your daddy was watching the other day.” Gran’s eyes flashed hot. “Nobody gets away with nearly killing my granddaughter.”
“I will be reporting them for this as well as the earlier incident. Probably stupid kids.”
“Yep.” She nodded. “I bet you’re right. Kids like that are the ones that make me still a proponent of spankings. I know what folks say about that nowadays, but some kids, that’s all they understand. Looks like their parents were light on the disciplinary action.”
“Let’s put it out of our minds. We’re going to the club meeting. Better late than never.” I slowed my breathing and forced a smile as my mind went a million directions. Who was the driver? And why had I seen them twice in one day driving recklessly?
Chapter Two
The rain was coming down in buckets when I parked my car in front of the Sweet Mountain Library, where my book club, the Jane Does, was meeting. Since we were already late, we decided that giving it a few more minutes to see if the rain let up would be okay.
Gran went back to her concerns regarding her friend Elaine as she applied orange-red lipstick to her lips. “So where are we exactly on Elaine’s case? I mean, specifics. And before you say it’s all confidential or some nonsense, Elaine’s going to tell me herself when we meet up for dinner later this week.”
“There’s really nothing more to tell.” I glanced up at the sunroof. The rain pelted the glass.
“You got the lawyer to drop the case, didn’t ya?”
“Yes. That’s all settled. I’m just running down a small personal matter for Elaine now.”
Gran leaned closer to the visor mirror and wiped the lipstick off her teeth. “These family disputes can take a toll on people. Not all families can be like ours.”
I gave her a sideways glance.
“What? We’re normal.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Normal-ish, then.”
“Okay, I’ll give you normal … ish.” I smirked.
She slashed her hand in the air, dismissing me. “Anyway, all I’m saying is that wacko woman has some nerve. Did you know”—she leaned closer to me—“Elaine hasn’t seen hide nor hair of her in fifteen years, and then when she finally gets word of old Mrs. Peterson passing, she comes a-running with her hand out shouting foul play.”
“Yes. You know good and well that I’m aware of that.” I leaned over and gave her a swift kiss on the cheek. “Now, don’t get riled up. It’s all sorted now.” Gran tended to rehash things and get herself all worked up even well after the fact. I reached behind the seat and grabbed my purse.
“I just care about my friend. Most folks aren’t as tough as we are, sugar.” She patted me on the shoulder. “I always knew you’d be a great private investigator.”
“Who needs a cheering section when you have Daisy Moody, grandmother extraordinaire.” I winked at her, and she beamed.
I’d been working for my uncle as a receptionist/PI for almost three years now. My uncle had needed a receptionist/secretary after Harriet Wiseman took maternity leave to have baby number three. I’d leaped at the opportunity. I’d come a long way since that first day on the job and was now a trusted part of my uncle Calvin’s team. Something I’d had my heart set on for many years—to be an asset instead of a trainee.
The job had been a natural fit for me. True crime and unsolved cases got my blood pumping. And that was one of the reasons I enjoyed my book club so much. We had a great group of fellow mystery-loving members who understood the need for closing a case, even if most of them were fictional.
Since our club had recently merged with another book club in the area, we had almost a dozen consistent members and about a dozen or so who showed up when they could make it—or when we were reading a book they especially enjoyed.
Our core group of founding Jane Does hosted and scheduled the meetings. Some months, if we had a special speaker—like a mystery writer or a Georgia Bureau of Investigation investigator—or were watching a popular docuseries, we had close to twenty or more in attendance. Utilizing one of the libraries’ conference rooms had become a necessity.
When we’d hosted a retired special investigator from Atlanta, who’d discussed the ins and outs of investigations involving John and Jane Does, we’d been nameless, oscillating between a couple of ideas. True crime stories had always intrigued the club. Because of our deep interest in such cases, it only seemed natural to our founding members that the club should be called The Jane Does.
And hosting special guests had become infinitely more accessible when I started dating Special Agent Brad Jones. We’d met two years ago while working together on a Jane Doe case. My first case as a PI in training had ignited something in me that solidified my desire to work in the field professionally.
A clap of thunder vibrated through the car.
“Wow, it’s really whipping up out there.” Gran rolled her lipstick down and put it back in her purse.
The banner outside the large three-story brick facility located a few blocks from the town square flapped violently. A few stray limbs blew past my car. It wasn’t tornado season, but our weather hadn’t been taking typical patterns this year.
“I better check my weather app.”
“You don’t need an app to see what’s right in front of you. Are those sirens?” Gran rolled down her window, and a giant gust blew rain inside.
“Gran!” I held up my hand, ineffectively blocking the spray.
She quickly rolled her window back up. “Sorry, sugar. It’s going to be a doozy of a storm. Hope it doesn’t run folks off from the club meeting.” She dabbed at her damp face with spare napkins I’d kept in my glove compartment. Gran sporadically attended our club meetings. She enjoyed the social aspect of the club. Gran never read the club pick until after the meetings. She enjoyed the wine, coffee, and snacks while pestering everyone with questions. Gran’s a real card, and my club loved her colorful personality.
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