Scrapbooking Slaying: Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mystery #4 (Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mysteries)

  Scrapbooking Slaying is the fourth story in the Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mystery Series, but these books can be enjoyed in any order. However, if you absolutely must begin with the first book in a series, please check out Flea Market Fatal.

  Missy DeMeanor’s day off has not started well. Her truck, the one she inherited from her father, has finally died. The bookstore she works at looks closer to shutting down permanently than ever before. Her deepest, longest friendship seems to be fading.

  And with the Scrapbooking Competition only a week away, she really needs to work hard at the monthly crop to finish her pages.

  Little did she know these things would be the least of her concerns: Olivia Oakley, a woman that Missy used to babysit, is found murdered at the crop.

  Now in her late thirties, Missy is forced to reevaluate some of her major life choices while investigating the murder of someone she’s known most her life. This time around, she’s working with the police and more specifically, the hunky, new junior detective in town. Vincent Carmine does little to hide his interest in Missy and she feels an attraction as well—does this mean it’s time for her to give up on the idea of getting back together with Tyler Brock, her high school sweetheart?

  Scrapbooking Slaying is a cozy mystery with plenty of twists, turns, humor, and a little bit of romance.

  Scrapbooking Slaying

  Brianna Bates

  Chapter One

  Melissa, a.k.a. Missy, DeMeanor’s truck died about a mile away from the elementary school where she and the girls were meeting for the Pre-Scrapbooking Convention Scrapbooking Day. She would have cursed her bad luck, but that would have been dishonest. This was no case of bad luck. The truck had been new, when her father bought it twenty years ago, and she’d done as little as possible to maintain it because she was always short on money. Working at a used bookstore had a way of doing that, she thought grimly.

  And pretty soon, there might not be a used bookstore to work at anymore, she thought even more grimly.

  She managed to pull the truck onto the shoulder and activated her hazards. With a sigh, she slumped back against the driver’s seat. A car payment was not in her current budget, and she really couldn’t afford one either.

  “No way. You are not going to feel sorry for yourself,” Missy said.

  She had known for years she was on borrowed time with the truck and had made conscious decisions about its maintenance and upkeep. Every day with the truck had really been gravy. Now she just needed to bite the bullet and actually pay for a car—something she’d never had to do before.

  Missy sat up, refusing to let this ruin her day. The truck had been her father’s and had been good to her over the years. If anything she’d been lucky it had lasted this long.

  She took out her phone and dialed. It rang through to voicemail.

  “Hey, Noreen, it’s me. Well, the truck finally died,” Missy said. “I’m stuck on the road a few minutes away. Can you come get me?”

  Missy waited patiently for her best friend, Noreen, to call her back. But her phone didn’t ring after a minute, or after five minutes, and by ten minutes she got out of the truck and walked around to the passenger side and leaned against the door. She tipped her head back and watched the grey September sky. Today had been chilly, the first hint of the coming autumn and winter. The clouds on the horizon were dark, promising rain. All her scrapbooking supplies were in the bed, covered by a tarp. If it rained, the tarp would help…a little bit. Though the storm clouds were probably thirty minutes away, she began to worry.

  She took out her phone, figuring Noreen had probably called but that she just hadn’t felt the buzz. But there were no calls, no texts, no emails from her friend. Missy dialed her friend’s number again.

  This time, Noreen answered, “Hello, stalker.”

  Missy waited for Noreen to laugh. She never did. All Missy heard was a tiny chuckle, denoting there was more than a little truth in her friend’s statement.

  “Sorry, but I’m stuck on the side of the road. I figured you were away from your phone when I called the first time and maybe just hadn’t noticed the missed call.”

  “Oh, crap. Sorry, Miss.” Noreen took the phone away from her ear and told everybody that Missy’s truck had finally died. There was a chorus of oh’s and boos. Then Noreen came back on. “Tonya was in the middle of a story when you called. Everybody was listening and I didn’t want to interrupt her, then Alison…either way, totally my fault for not getting you back.”

  Missy bit her tongue. These days, it seemed like Tonya was Noreen’s best friend. She’d moved into town a few months ago and the two women had met pretty randomly in the grocery store, immediately hitting it off. Now they were thicker than thieves, going out two, sometimes three times a week. At first, Noreen always extended the offer to Missy. But Missy was a homebody these days and enjoyed going out once a week at most because she was so invested in all her hobbies, like scrapbooking and flea market flipping and she’d gotten this crazy idea to try writing a book…long story short, Missy had told Noreen thanks, but no thanks, so many times now that her friend had stopped inviting her to join them every time. Missy heard about their continuing adventures after the fact anymore.

  Missy didn’t have anything against Tonya, but for the fact that Tonya didn’t seem to like her very much. She’d never come out and said it, but she got her digs in alright. Subtly she’d made it clear to Missy that Tonya was friends with Noreen, but not so much her. It was obvious to Missy, but Noreen didn’t see it, or rather, refused to see it. Missy had broached the subject with Noreen recently, and her friend had quickly dismissed it and even got cross. She had been this close to accusing Missy of being jealous, which maybe she was, but jealous or not, Tonya did not like Missy. So anymore, Noreen was forced to pick one or the other.

  “No worries, Nor,” Missy said. “Do you mind picking me up?”

  “Uh, do you have all your stuff with you?”

  Missy thought that should have been obvious. “Yes.”

  “Oh. Well, I think we’ll have major issues trying to transport it in my car. I’ve got a lot of junk in it today.”

  She always did, but Missy didn’t remind her.

  Noreen went on. “Let me ask Tonya. She just got that new SUV.”

  “Nor, how about—” Missy really didn’t want to owe Tonya of all people a favor and wanted to suggest somebody else.

  But Noreen pretended not to hear her. “We’ll be out in a few, just hang tight.”

  Noreen ended the call.

  “Great,” Missy said.

  Chapter Two

  Missy heard them coming around the bend before she saw them. Tonya’s luxury SUV looked like it was part of the Presidential detail.

  Missy put on a smile and waved pleasantly as Tonya swung around. The other woman nodded, but didn’t smile back. Noreen didn’t either, but at least she was on her phone, texting somebody.

  Tonya turned the SUV around and eased onto the shoulder. Her tires immediately sunk in the soft grass. She backed the SUV up so their vehicles were end-to-end. After Tonya put the SUV in park, the lift gate popped open and nearly clobbered Missy on the chin. She had to literally jump out of the way.

  Missy was pretty sure that had been intentional. But without proof she couldn’t accuse the woman who’d ostensibly come to help her, especially not in front of Noreen.

  When Tonya got out, Missy kept her voice friendly and laughed like it was all one big joke. “You almost took my head off. Ha-ha.”

  Tony
a frowned. “Oh. Sorry. I guess I didn’t expect you to stand right behind the SUV when we have to put all your stuff in the back.”

  Missy kept smiling. But her thoughts were anything but friendly. This was exactly how Tonya got her digs in. “You did see me standing back here, though, right?”

  Tonya looked like she was about to say something, but then Noreen finally got out of the SUV.

  “Hey, Miss.” She barely looked up from her phone. Missy figured she was texting with Carter. They had met a few months ago and had fallen almost instantly in love. They also loved to sext each other. One time Noreen had shared one of Carter’s less steamy love notes, and Missy’s eyes had bulged.

  “Hey, Nor. Thanks for coming.” Missy forced her to look at Tonya after this last statement.

  Noreen finally put her phone away. “No problem. Right, Tonya?”

  “Right.”

  For a moment, the three woman just stood on the shoulder of the road as if they didn’t know what to do next. Missy finally shrugged and opened her flatbed. Tonya didn’t move a muscle, but at least Noreen came over.

  Missy pulled off the tarp. Her scrapbooking supplies just about filled the bed.

  “Wow,” Tonya said. She still hadn’t moved any closer to help. “How much of that do you actually use?”

  Before Missy could answer, Noreen jumped in. “Probably less than half! But Missy always brings everything.”

  Tonya didn’t quite roll her eyes. “I usually have a pretty good idea of what I want to do so I know what to bring and what not to bring.”

  Missy, as always, felt the need to defend herself when it came to Tonya. Dealing with her was kind of exhausting. Okay, not kind of.

  “I always have a plan too, but I like being flexible,” Missy said. “Sometimes after I roll up my sleeves, I get a better idea and end up chasing that. You just never know what’s going to come to you.”

  Tonya took out her phone.

  Noreen acted like it had been a cue. “We’ll just be a minute.” Noreen smiled at Missy. “Tonya has to leave early today so she’s on the clock.”

  “Oh?” Missy said. “That’s a shame.”

  Tonya’s head snapped up. She’d picked up on Missy’s irony. “I’m in the middle of a really big project for work. It’s our biggest client.”

  Missy turned away. Tonya worked as some kind of consultant in the pharmaceutical industry and always acted like her job was the most important in the world. Judging by her SUV, the clothes she wore (the jeans she had on were probably a couple hundred bucks), and the little catty comments she’d made in the past, it was glaringly obvious she made a lot of money. Missy didn’t begrudge anybody that—more power to her—but it got old with Tonya because the woman always found ways to humble-brag.

  Missy climbed into the flatbed because the heavier things were bungeed to the back of the cab. She undid the cord and started passing them to Noreen. Tonya did not join in their assembly line.

  Even though Missy hadn’t made a face or said anything, Noreen immediately spoke on behalf of her other friend. “Tonya injured her back in kickboxing the other night. You should have seen it.”

  Missy wondered how Tonya had managed to get all of her own stuff to the scrapbooking event this morning if her back were in such bad shape. But she of course didn’t say anything.

  Noreen was still talking. “She went down. I mean, hard. If it was me, I probably would have broken my back in six places. But Tonya’s in such good shape and has been doing that for years, it’s not that bad of an injury.”

  Tonya smiled at Noreen. “You are hot girl. You’re in great shape.”

  Noreen patted her non-existent stomach. “I really need to lose weight.”

  This time, Missy did roll her eyes. Noreen knew how much it drove her nuts when people who didn’t need to lose weight—or, in her case, who were actually in great shape—pretended to be overweight. Because Missy actually was overweight. Thankfully, she carried the weight for the most part okay. The extra pounds made her voluptuous more than obese, but she knew that wouldn’t always be the case and her heart went out to overweight women who were not so genetically fortunate because the world was a cruel, cruel place when it came to obesity.

  She caught Tonya sizing her up, literally, after Noreen’s comment about losing weight.

  Tonya smiled at her. “You should try kickboxing with us. You’d probably like it. It’s a great way to take out frustration and relieve stress.”

  “I’m not frustrated about anything,” Missy said, suspecting Tonya was making a dig about her weight.

  Tonya laughed. “You sound a little frustrated right now.”

  “Maybe because my truck just died and I can’t afford a car payment.”

  “Whoa, Miss.” Noreen stopped what she was doing and turned to look at her. “Tonya wasn’t saying anything about you. She just meant it’s a great way for anybody to work out their frustration.”

  Missy took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Oh, I know. I was just saying I didn’t have any frustrations.”

  An awkward silence developed, until Tonya held up her phone. “I really have to make a call. I’ll only be a minute.”

  Missy went back to work, passing her things to Noreen, who put them in the back of the SUV. Inside, she was fuming. She wanted desperately to pull Noreen aside and say, See, she hates me. But with Tonya standing fifteen feet away, it obviously wasn’t the best time for that conversation.

  And more importantly, she didn’t think Noreen would see it that way.

  Chapter Three

  On their way to the elementary school, Tonya looked into the rearview from the driver’s seat at Missy.

  “You are brave.”

  Missy was taken aback. Was the woman really giving her a compliment?

  In the passenger seat, Noreen didn’t seem to notice the comment. She was too busy banging out a text again.

  “Thanks.” Missy didn’t know what else to say.

  Tonya nodded. “To drive that old truck. I’m such a wuss when it comes to cars.”

  Missy’s eyes locked on Tonya in the rearview, but the woman had shifted her attention back to the road.

  Tonya continued. “I mean, never knowing when it’s going to break down. I’d be too worried it would happen in the middle of the night on some lonely road.” Tonya shook her head, as if she had really been concerned about Missy’s well-being, ever. “That’s why I lease and get a new car every four years.”

  Of course the woman hadn’t been complimenting her. Missy should have seen that coming from a mile away.

  Missy didn’t bother to respond and instead looked out the window. The day was getting greyer and darker, murky light filtering to the ground through the clouds. Missy was usually upbeat and positive, but she couldn’t help feeling that the day really matched her mood.

  Normally she looked forward to scrapbooking, because it meant a day working with her hands, being creative, and spending time with friends. And today she should have been even more excited than usual, because in one week, the big Scrapbooking Convention was being held in Lancaster County. This year she had entered not one, but two contests. On the first day of the convention, they were holding a Make and Take Competition, where judges provided all materials to the contestants and gave them two hours to create a page that really popped. And on the second day of the convention, she’d entered into the General Competition. She had a good theme—a Best Friends Forever page that was a pop-up page featuring her and Noreen—and a pretty good design she was working on. She’d hoped to use today and tomorrow to finish it up, then take the night on Friday to look it over and tidy it up. She’d been to last year’s convention and seen the prize-winning creations. The top prizes would be hard to come by, but she liked her chances at winning one of the lesser awards.

  Tonya pulled into the parking lot of the elementary school. Because it was Saturday, the lot was empty except for the twenty cars all massed near the gymnasium where the women always worked. Missy s
aw all the familiar cars, plus a couple other ones that were completely out of place.

  “What’s going on?” Tonya said.

  Noreen took her eyes off her lascivious texts long enough to observe. “Who had a heart attack?”

  Missy stuck her head between the two seats. She counted three police cruisers and an ambulance.

  “Not good,” Missy said.

  ***

  All the women had come out of the gym and were standing by their cars while the police and EMTs worked inside. Missy saw one of the cops lugging the roll of Police Line tape toward the school.

  Missy and Noreen had gotten out of Tonya’s SUV. As they walked toward the other woman to ask what had happened, though, Noreen said:

  “God, I hope Tyler’s not here.”

  Tyler Brock was Missy’s old boyfriend, actually her high school sweetheart. They had drifted apart after going to different colleges and hadn’t seen each other again until recently, when Tyler had returned from Philadelphia and essentially become second-in-command at the Grove City Police Department. He’d been a detective in Philly and as a result he usually handled the more difficult cases. Grove City had seen a couple murders since he’d come back—both of which Missy had solved, or helped to solve.

  Noreen did not like Tyler and Missy couldn’t blame her. The man had (understandably) arrested her for Anne Baxter’s murder even though Noreen had been proven innocent. Missy had tried to get Noreen to see things from Tyler’s point of view. At the time, all the evidence had pointed at Noreen and literally at nobody else. When the situation was viewed objectively, Tyler had had no choice but to arrest Noreen. But of course Noreen would never see it that way. She had nearly gone to prison. If it weren’t for Missy, who steadfastly refused to believe her friend was a murderer despite all the evidence to the contrary, Noreen probably would be in prison right now and for a long time to come.

  Normally, Missy let Noreen’s comments about Tyler go. But today she was already frustrated with Tonya and Noreen’s blind eye toward Tonya’s dislike of Missy.