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  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Missy examined the bruises on her neck in the mirror. She didn’t know whether to hide them or let prospective buyers see them. The injury might be off-putting, or it might garner sympathy from prospective buyers. Eventually she settled on putting a little makeup on.

  It was a warm morning, the sun burning off the early fog quickly. As she drove to the Tri-County Flea Market, she went over in her mind again everything that had happened.

  Twenty years ago, Loretta had convinced her husband to invest their money in some real estate scheme with Gordon Block instead of starting that machine shop with her father. Missy didn’t pretend to understand the ins and outs of it, but according to Tyler there were some irregularities with it. Gordon had called in some favors to get his hands on the property. By then, it was rumored that Loretta and Gordon were already enjoying an on-again, off-again tumultuous affair.

  Over the years, Loretta and Albert’s relationship had continued to deteriorate. He knew or at least suspected her affair and reached the point of no longer caring, an attitude Loretta was perfectly content with. Why they didn’t just divorce, was anybody’s guess.

  But when Albert decided to strike up his own affair, some twenty years later, Loretta took hypocritical exception. At that point she convinced Gordon to doctor up new versions of the real estate deed and agreement, versions that did not include Albert’s signature. Though it was still unclear, at some point Albert became aware they were going to cut him out of the deal. He’d been despondent because he couldn’t get his hands on the original documents. Loretta had moved out and taken those things with her.

  But Albert had shown some foresight. He’d never completely trusted his wife and must have made copies of the originals when the deal was originally struck. It came out through Gordon’s confession that Albert had called them that morning, threatening to go to the police with what he had. He wanted to make sure that property was included in the divorce proceedings because he lawfully had an interest in it.

  Gordon must have arrived at the house a few minutes before Missy. Thinking ahead, Albert had hidden the documents in the cabinet on the off chance (the good chance, actually) that he and Gordon had an argument over whose was what.

  Albert knew Missy was coming to buy the cabinet and they had already agreed on a price, so this was Albert’s insurance policy. Missy now understood what Gordon had been saying when he had his hands around her throat. He and Loretta had suspected she had the documents and hadn’t gone to the police because she had plans to blackmail them for money. When they’d heard about her unofficially investigating the crime and looking at everybody except them, they figured this was her way of shifting the spotlight elsewhere so she could quietly work out a deal with them.

  Missy shook her head and looked at the dog that had saved her life. Cody sat on the passenger seat and wagged her tail. Missy gently rubbed Cody’s side, making sure to avoid the rib that Gordon had broken.

  They made it to the Tri-County Flea Market early. Missy had purchased a good spot from the organizer, pretty close to the door. She stood up her folding table and began setting up.

  She also knew why Switzer had called Mom that morning. Probably to apologize for reneging on his agreement with Dad to go into business with his wife and the attorney, who would later try to backstab him.

  ***

  “How much for that cabinet?” a middle-aged man with a goatee asked her.

  She rested her hand on top of it. “I restored this myself. It’s a great piece and the perfect place to store your liquor.” She gestured to the two wicker chairs next to it. “These go nicely with it. You could fit this cabinet into a corner and sit down next to it for a drink.”

  “How much?”

  He was ready to buy. But what was he willing to pay? She felt the familiar butterflies in her stomach. No matter how many times she did this, Missy always got nervous at the moment of the deal.

  “I’ll give you four hundred for it right now,” came a new voice. “And the two chairs.”

  She looked past the man to see Tyler approaching. He was out of uniform, wearing jeans and a t-shirt today. It stretched across his chest and showed off his pecs.

  Missy smiled politely, like she didn’t know Tyler, and gauged the other man’s reaction. His eyes darted from the cabinet, to her, to Tyler, and back to the cabinet while one hand absently rubbed his chin.

  Missy said, “How about five hundred for the set?”

  “Five hundred?” the man said. “That’s too much.”

  “Would you take four hundred?” Tyler smiled, winking at her.

  “I don’t know…it really is a nice piece of furniture.”

  The other man held up a finger. “Just give me a minute, okay?”

  She nodded pleasantly at him as he stepped away, presumably to call his wife or significant other to discuss the purchase.

  Tyler leaned in. “Having a good day so far?”

  “So-so. This cabinet would really be the game-changer.” She smiled at him. “I didn’t think you were a flea market kind of guy.”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m mellowing out in my old age.”

  “Old age? Hardly. If you’re old, that makes me old, and that, Tyler Brock is a fact I am not willing to accept.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. It was so good to see him like that. It reminded her of old times.

  “So we have Gordon and Loretta pointing fingers at each other, of course. I think we got them both dead to rights.”

  “Thank God.”

  “No, thank you and thank Cody. I was looking at them because of the divorce and the dispute over the real estate transaction, but without the originals I didn’t have enough to convince the chief to make a move.”

  She smiled. It was over. Life could go back to normal.

  The other man still had his phone up to his ear as he came back to the table. “I can offer you four-fifty, right now, take it or leave it, that’s it.”

  She saw that Tyler was about to open his mouth to drive up the price, but Missy didn’t want him to go any higher. Four hundred and fifty was more than fair.

  “It’s a deal,” she said, shaking his hand.

  The man smiled and told his wife he’d gotten the cabinet and the chairs. Missy and Tyler helped the man carry them to his truck. After he pulled away, Missy turned to Tyler.

  “So.”

  “So.”

  “One thing I’ve been meaning to ask you…if you suspected Loretta and Gordon, why did you let them go to Switzer’s house?”

  He nodded. “That’s exactly why I let them. I wanted to watch them to see if I could understand what they were looking for. I thought Loretta was lying when she looked at the cabinet in your flatbed and lied…but I can’t arrest people based on hunches.”

  She almost said, You arrested my Mom on a lot less. But she decided to let that go. Mom had spent a night in jail but she was fine and it had really been her own doing.

  “And it was Gordon that trashed my house?” Missy asked.

  Tyler nodded. “They were looking for the documents you didn’t know you had. They wrote murderer on your wall to make the break-in look like vandalism instead of what it really was.”

  Missy smiled, so happy that Switzer’s murder had been solved and she could get back to normal life.

  “Now that you aren’t going to arrest me, maybe we could grab a cup of coffee.”

  He hesitated. “I’d like that, but…”

  “But what?”

  His shoulders didn’t quite slump. “I haven’t been able to really talk to you because we’ve been in the middle of this murder investigation, Melissa. But my wife…it’s complicated.”

  “She’s your ex, isn’t she?”

  “We’re separated, not divorced. We’ve been talking since I got back and we’re thinking about trying counseling.”

  “Oh.” Her heart sank. If that was true, why had Tyler come out here this morning to see her? His a
ctions were totally inconsistent, which meant he was conflicted. The last thing she wanted or needed was a man whose heart was split.

  “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you but things moved so fast when Switzer was killed. I…” He looked like he had a lot more to say. “I’m sorry, Melissa.”

  “About what?” she asked. “It was just a cup of coffee. I wasn’t asking you out on a date. We’re just friends, right?”

  He looked deep into her eyes, and they both knew she was lying.

  “Yeah, friends.”

  They stared at each other for a moment, until somebody honked a car horn. Missy realized they were blocking the parking space her buyer had occupied and this person was trying to pull in.

  She waved sorry and got out of the way. Tyler had turned the other way and now headed farther out into the parking lot. She stared at him for another moment. His eyes held her gaze and she knew, was absolutely certain, that he still felt deeply about her. But she wasn’t the kind of woman that broke up a marriage, good or otherwise.

  Missy waved goodbye and headed inside. Before she reached the door, she heard him call out:

  “Talk to you soon, Melissa.”

  Inside Cody was waiting for her. She rubbed the dog’s head with both hands and earned a big, sloppy kiss on the face. Cody started giving her a tongue-bath.

  “Thank you, girl.” Missy hugged the dog. “Thank you.”

  *********

  Book Club Bloodshed is the second 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 first.

  Who knew Book Clubs could be so dangerous?

  Not Missy DeMeanor. At last week’s meeting, her best friend Noreen nearly came to blows with Anne Baxter over the merits of the book they were reading. After that unprecedented outburst, Missy never in a million years thought Anne Baxter would turn up dead in the middle of the next meeting.

  Everyone immediately suspects Missy’s best friend, Noreen. Even her high school sweetheart and the current chief detective, Tyler Brock, thinks Noreen is guilty, leaving Missy no choice but to once again assume the mantel of private (but unpaid) investigator, only this time to prove her best friend’s innocence.

  With the odds against her, Missy embarks on an investigation that dredges up long-standing grudges and some of the town’s deepest, darkest secrets. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, can Missy exonerate her friend…and keep off the fifteen pounds she just lost?

  Book Club Bloodshed is a cozy mystery with plenty of twists, turns, humor, and a little bit of romance.

  Book Club Bloodshed

  Brianna Bates

  Chapter One

  Melissa, a.k.a. Missy, DeMeanor loved her best friend, Noreen, to death. But even she had to admit that Noreen suffered from momentary lapses in sanity.

  “You are such a snob!” Noreen blurted out.

  The alleged snob in question, a woman named Anne Baxter, sat up stiffly in her chair. “When it comes to books, yes! I’m a snob! I’m a snob because I expect what I’m reading to be good.”

  Noreen shook her head. They were sitting in the public library for this week’s Book Club meeting. Ruby Kellogg worked at the library and got to use the space after hours for their group. It probably looked odd to see this group of eight women sitting in a dark library, drinking wine and eating finger food, but they had all gotten used to it pretty quickly.

  The women sat in a circle around the table from the children’s section that Ruby always had in place for them. Two bottles of wine were open, and a third was on deck.

  Last week, Noreen and Anne had nearly come to blows about last month’s book. Missy had to literally step between them in the parking lot. Noreen was passionate about many things, but about books she had the attitude of a zealot. If she liked something, that meant it was good. Anybody that disagreed needed to be made to see the light.

  Early on, Missy had pleaded with her to tone it down. She feared Noreen’s big personality would drive people away. It hadn’t. Yet. And Missy was beginning to think that people came in part to see the inevitable outraged outburst from her. It was a big part of the entertainment.

  But Anne Baxter was no shrinking violet. Her family owned the local chain of grocery stores so she was part of the gentry in Grove City. Like her father, and his father, and his father, and his father, et cetera, Anne Baxter did not back down in the face of a challenge. Her family had risen in status for that reason.

  In reality, Anne was a bit of a snob so she wasn’t about to let Noreen, who worked in a used bookstore, dress her down, especially not in front of other people. No way.

  Missy sat forward, hoping to put the pin back in this proverbial grenade. “Guys, it’s just a book. We can agree to disagree. Maybe we should move on.”

  Anne smiled at her and there was nothing friendly about it. “Books aren’t just books, Missy. I mean, isn’t that why we’re here? We take one night out of our week to meet and talk about literature because it means something. Books are important. They should be good.”

  Noreen pointed at her. “You don’t like anything that’s genre—”

  Anne shrugged and turned her haughty stare at Noreen. “I’ve admitted before I prefer literature to genre.”

  Noreen talked right over her. “And you’re obviously biased against anything that’s self-published, like this book is.”

  Anne bowed, like Noreen had just complimented her. “I am. Self-published books need to prove to me they’re worthy of my time.”

  Missy quickly surveyed the room. The rest of the women looked uncomfortable, especially the librarian, Ruby herself. She was ten years younger than the rest of them and was probably nervous that a fight would break out—it had almost happened last week—and something would be destroyed.

  “I don’t think it’s that bad,” Ruby said. “I mean, it’s the author’s first book.”

  “Citizen Kane was Orson Welles’s first movie,” Anne said. “And that was quite good.”

  Noreen shook her head. “Oh come on. It was his first movie, but he’d been in show business since he was a boy. He’d done a lot of radio and acting before that. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Fine.” Anne inclined her chin. “Then let’s talk about one of your genre authors. Wasn’t Carrie Stephen King’s first book?”

  Noreen stood. “You’re unbelievable. This book isn’t even bad. Sure it has some problems but on the whole it’s good. You just can’t help but look down your nose at it. Just like you do everything else.”

  Anne’s cool demeanor finally heated up. “And you have no taste! You enjoy everything you read!”

  Noreen balled her fists. “Because I’m not close-minded.”

  Anne was standing now too. “And I’ll tell everyone I know to avoid this book at all costs. The tone changes from one chapter to the next, the killer comes out of nowhere in the third act, and the dialog comes across like it was written by a ten year old or somebody who’s had no real life experience.”

  “Oh, nice. You’d go out of your way to trash something?”

  Anne stepped toward Noreen. “Yes, because it wasted my precious resource: my time. I’ll never get that back. Forget the five bucks I spent. That’s nothing. But my time? It was wasted. I owe this book a bad review. Hopefully the author will learn a thing or two.”

  Anne, like several of the other women in the room, maintained her own book review blog. She usually posted a couple reviews per week because she was a natural speed-reader, as she made sure to constantly remind people.

  “Why don’t you just leave it?” Noreen said. “You’re not going to provide the author with any meaningful feedback or constructive criticism. You just go for snark in your reviews, which, talk about a waste of time. What’s the point?”

  “Yeah, Anne. What’s the point?” Kylie Thompson spoke for the first time.

  Missy felt the situation was about to get
away from them.

  Anne was rearing back to strike. Missy was out of her seat and forced herself between the two women. She knew Noreen could handle herself. In grade school she’d fought a boy and was actually winning before the teacher aides separated the two. But she also figured that Anne could handle herself too. The woman was in remarkable and enviable shape for being forty years old. Missy had seen her last summer at the pool (one of Missy’s least favorite places) and witnessed firsthand the woman’s well-defined six pack and gravity-defying rump. Anne exercised religiously and Missy knew from previous conversations that she loved kickboxing.

  “Okay, let’s take a break,” Missy said. “This is getting out of control.”

  Noreen pointed at Anne over Missy’s shoulder. “Why do you even come to our meetings? All you ever do is talk about how much you hate whatever book we’re reading. The only time you speak favorably about anything is when it’s the book you picked!”

  “I could say the same about you!” Anne roared. “All you ever talk about is how much you love every book we read. That adds nothing to the conversation!”

  “Ladies, please!” Missy had to raise her voice. She instinctively reached out in both directions. By accident, her right hand landed squarely on one of Anne’s breasts. It took her a moment to realize what she was grabbing, but when it dawned on her, she was horrified.

  Anne wasn’t bothered though. “Pretty firm, isn’t it?”

  Missy’s face was on fire. She took her hands off Noreen and Anne. “Let’s take a break.”

  The rest of the women agreed quickly and got up to stretch their legs, with the exception of Ruby. She was twenty-six, but Missy still thought of her as a girl because she’d babysat her in high school. Ruby’s eyes were lowered and she looked ready to cry.