Murder, Malice and Mischief Read online

“Come on,” Evie said, pulling her friend to her feet. “First we’ll get the margaritas. Then I’ll read your palm, and we’ll finish with Bridget Jones. She always makes you feel better.”

  Dora blotted her eyes and sniffed. “She is a hot mess.”

  “The best kind.” Evie tugged her friend into the kitchen and pressed a margarita into her hand. “Drink up. We have a lot to get through tonight.”

  But what Evie really meant was that Dora had a lot to set aside for the night. If they could just make it through to the next day, and Brian managed to clear Dora of any wrong doing, then she was sure her friend would be all right. Until then, Evie had work to do.

  Chapter 5

  Dora sat at Evie’s table and glanced at her watch for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was early afternoon, almost a full forty-eight hours after the incident—as Evie had taken to calling it—at work. Dora had spent the entire previous day waiting for Evie’s mailman to show up with the flash drive, only to have him skip them due to no mail. She’s been tormented when she realized she had to wait another whole day. “What time did you say your mail carrier usually gets here?”

  Evie sighed and focused on the nail she was filing. “Would you relax? He’ll get here when he gets here. Billy is the best.”

  “You’re just saying that because he has a crush on you,” Dora said, tapping her fingertips on the table while trying to be careful to not smudge her freshly painted nails. She wasn’t usually the fidgeting type, but that afternoon she was ready to jump out of her skin.

  Evie shrugged. “No, I’m not. He won me over when he saved Sunshine from Mrs. Pickett. She’s a speed demon on her motorized wheelchair, and she was trying to scoop up Sunshine to take her to her lair. She kept talking about dressing her up in princess outfits and letting her granddaughter roll her around in a stroller just for their entertainment. Can you imagine Sunshine enduring that nonsense?”

  Dora glanced at the pup in question. Sunshine stared up at Evie, her amber eyes sullen and then covered her face with a paw as if to say, No, Mom, I can’t imagine that.

  “I know, sweetie,” Evie said to Sunshine and chuckled. “I’d never let that happen to you. And thanks to Billy for saving you from that horrible fate.” She glanced at Dora. “Sunshine is just like my first boyfriend. She hates clothes.”

  “I remember,” Dora said, recalling the numerous times Danny stripped at the beach to go skinny dipping even when no one cared to join him. “Speaking of boyfriends, what’s going on with you and Trace?”

  “What do you mean?” Evie asked.

  “How’s it going?” Dora asked, mostly to just distract herself from her own troubles.

  “Fine. You saw him last night. Didn’t we look like we’re good?” She moved her file to another nail.

  “Sure. But when is he gonna get around to putting a ring on it? You two have been dating for what? Two, three years?”

  Evie sucked in a breath and gave Dora a warning glance. “Two and a half, but he’s gone a lot. Neither of us are worried about making anything legal.”

  “Right. Because then you’d have to make a commitment. Can’t have that,” Dora said in a slightly teasing voice. Evie pretended to be all free love and no commitments, but she knew her friend was head over heels in love with her bass player. And he was just as gone for the free spirit who was so commitment-phobic she couldn’t even hold a job for more than six months. Honestly, Dora wasn’t even worried that Evie had lost her job at the dry cleaner. It was just about time for her to make the switch anyway. “You’re gonna lose him one of these days, Evie. You know he wants to marry you.”

  “No one needs a piece of paper, Dora,” she said, frowning. “I’m here and not going anywhere. Why do I need to legally bind myself to another person? That’s so… eighteenth century.”

  “Oh, Evie. You know I love you, right?”

  The other woman nodded but averted her eyes, obviously aware a but was coming.

  Dora reached out and grabbed Evie’s hand. “You’re just scared. Not only is he the best thing that’s ever happened to you, he also adores you, E. You should probably try to get over that before he gets tired of waiting.”

  “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Evie said, holding her friend’s gaze.

  Dora’s heart swelled. “I love you, too, but I’m not going to be warming your bed anytime soon.”

  “Anyway…” Evie checked her nails and nodded as if she were satisfied. Then she grabbed Dora’s hand and tsked. “Look what you did to your nails already.”

  “Darn it.” Dora glanced down at her right hand and winced when she saw she’d smudged two of her freshly painted nails. Even though no one had shown up at Evie’s looking for her, Dora was still really jumpy. It was just a matter of time before someone realized she’d killed Steve, right?

  Evie soaked a cotton ball with nail polish remover and got to work, redoing Dora’s messed-up manicure. “After this, it’s pedicure time.”

  Dora curled her toes and shook her head. “You know I don’t like it when anyone touches my feet.”

  Evie gave her an are-you-kidding-me look. “Please. The last time I got my magic hands on your toes there was a lot of moaning and sighing.”

  Even Dora had to admit that Evie was the best at mani-pedis. One of her many, many jobs included working at a local nail bar. “Fine. Just don’t tickle my arches. That drives me crazy.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Evie finished up Dora’s two smudged fingers and then admired her handiwork. “I do rock at the French tips, don’t I?”

  “You do.” Dora sat back and tried to not touch anything. As much as she liked mani-pedis, she never managed to sit still long enough for the polish to dry. There was an eight in ten chance that she’d smear at least one more nail before they were done.

  “Let’s do your toes in the living room. It will be comfier,” Evie said, getting up from the table.

  Dora didn’t argue. She got up, and with Sunshine at her heels she moved to the other room and sat on the couch. The dog jumped up and settled into her lap. As Dora petted the little dog, she started to feel as if the day before had been some sort of dream. Like it wasn’t real. She hadn’t really killed someone, had she? It was surreal to be in the house Evie inherited from her grandmother, letting Evie pamper her, while Steve was dead and not one police officer had come looking for her. Not even Brian.

  Steve had died in Dora’s office. Dora had spent the morning glued to the local news channels, waiting for the news of the local restaurateur’s death to be announced. But there was nothing. Not even a passing mention. How had the media missed his death? Surely he’d been taken to the local morgue. Someone had to have heard the dispatch when the call came in, right? So why wasn’t there any reporting, and why wasn’t anyone looking for his killer? And where was Marco? Even if the police were keeping this under wraps, Marco would be out for blood.

  None of it made sense to Dora, but then she wasn’t law enforcement. She had no real idea of how things worked in actual police investigations, only what she’d seen on television.

  “Okay!” Evie called, appearing in the living room with a plastic tub of water. “Soak your feet. I’m going to go grab my paraffin supplies.”

  “You don’t have to do all of that,” Dora said, glancing at the door. What if Marco barged in while her feet were wrapped in plastic booties and hot wax? She’d probably slip and hit her head on the coffee table as she tried to get away.

  “Yes, I do. Who knows how long it’s been since you had those feet pampered? I bet it was last fall, right? You dodged me the last few times I asked you to join me at the day spa.”

  Dora winced. Evie had a point. But what difference did it make if she had soft feet if she was just going to wind up in jail? Her face must’ve given her thoughts away because Evie pointed a finger at her and in a stern voice said, “Don’t you even go there, Dora Winslow. This was self-defense, and Brian is going to make sure this goes away. If he doesn’t,
I will.”

  The look on Evie’s face was so fierce and full of determination that Dora cracked the tiniest of smiles for the first time all day. Her friend really would go to the end of the earth for her. “Ride or die, right?”

  “Thelma and Louise until the end,” Evie said with a sharp nod.

  “Okay. Well, if we’re going to possibly be on the run, I might as well have pretty toes for the journey,” Dora said.

  “That’s my girl.” Evie beamed at her and got to work.

  Chapter 6

  Dora looked at Evie, who sat back on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table, showing off her new pedicure and sipping champagne. Evie asked her, “Are you sure you don’t want any of this? It’s delicious.”

  Dora, who was sitting next to her, was still sporting cheap flip flops as her toenails dried. She pressed a hand to her stomach and shook her head. “My stomach is in knots. Do you have any ginger ale?”

  Evie waved a hand. Dora liked to switch to ginger ale any time she got too tipsy for her liking, and Evie kept it on hand for her friend. “It’s in the fridge.” She sent Dora a side-eye glance. “I’ve got vodka too. A little of that in your drink wouldn’t hurt, right?”

  “Gah! No. I’ll just get the ginger ale.” Dora stood and started to stride toward the kitchen.

  “Careful of the toes!” Evie called after her.

  “Right.” Dora stiffened, aware that her ability to girl had left the building a while ago, and she started to waddle like a penguin, careful to preserve her pedicure.

  Evie snickered. As Dora riffled through the fridge for the soda, Evie must have peaked through the blinds and spotted the mail truck a few houses down, because she cried out, “Dora! Billy’s almost here.”

  “He is?” Dora ran out of the kitchen with a ginger ale bottle in her hand. “Finally!”

  The two women watched as Billy made his way to her neighbor’s house and then turned in the direction of Evie’s cottage. Evie automatically opened the door, already waving, when Dora spotted a solid white van speeding down the street straight toward Billy.

  “What the hell?” Dora asked over Evie’s shoulder.

  “Billy, look out!” Evie called, desperately waving for him to get out of the way.

  In a blur of white, Sunshine darted out of the house, headed straight toward Billy.

  “No! Sunshine, come back!” Evie rushed out of the house after her pup.

  Dora panicked and yelled, “Evie! No!” But Evie didn’t slow down. She was too focused on the dog running toward the street to see the real danger.

  Dora wasn’t though. She watched a stocky man wearing a ski mask jump from the back of the van and grab Billy. Ignoring the danger for herself, she began to run toward Billy and yelled, “Get your hands off him!”

  Another man with huge arms covered in tattoos jumped out of the van as the first guy held Billy by his blue button-down postal uniform shirt. He sneered as he yanked on the mail bag.

  “No!” Dora cried as the tattooed guy succeeded in ripping the mail bag from Billy’s grasp and took off at a dead run.

  His conspirator released Billy and rushed for the van, too.

  “Let go, you two-bit thief,” Billy shouted, as he ran after them, his fist held high in the air. “Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor a bunch of crooks will stop me!”

  “Wow,” Dora said as she stopped next to Evie, who had Sunshine safely in her arms, to watch Billy. The mailman was actually gaining on the van. “That guy takes his job seriously.”

  When Billy reached the white van, he jumped on the back. The driver slammed on the brakes, and both Dora and Evie let out a gasp when the tattooed thief hopped out of the sliding van door, grabbed Billy, and tossed him into the vehicle like he was a sack of potatoes.

  “No!” Dora cried again, and for the second time in two days she surprised herself by not cowering in fear. She took action. Her cheap sandals lived up to their name as they flip-flopped over the pavement while she ran to the mail truck with Evie hot on her tail. They both tried to jump into the driver’s seat, but Dora had gotten there first and yelled, “Calling it!”

  “Dammit,” Evie said, conceding to their lifelong rule for who had rights to pretty much anything they both wanted.

  Dora slammed the truck into gear as Evie and Sunshine barely managed to get in, and Dora gunned it with the hope of catching the getaway van that contained Evie’s treasure of a mailman, the mailman’s precious mailbag, and very importantly to Dora, the package with the flash drive that had proof of Marco’s crimes.

  Unfortunately, mail trucks don’t have V-8 engines. Speed is not their most important feature, and the van already had a head start. But Dora gave it her all. She didn’t even slow down to take the upcoming left turn.

  As she yanked the wheel to the left, packages flew to the right with enough force the mail truck teetered a bit on two wheels before slamming back down on all four, engaging the two previously spinning wheels to give them a jolt forward.

  “To the right!” Evie yelled once she could be heard over the wheel-screeching results of Dora’s precarious turn. Not that it stopped her from performing the stunt another time. But it only took one more street before the van was no longer in sight. And when they got to the T intersection, it was clear they’d lost the bad guys, Billy, and the package with the flash drive.

  Dora slapped her hands down on the steering wheel in frustration, and Evie wailed, “Poor Billy! We have to call the police.”

  “No,” Dora said sternly as she pulled the mail truck over to the side of the road. “Let me call Brian.” She lifted her hip to dig her phone out of her back pocket, a little surprised it was still there considering the wild ride and the state of the packages in the mail truck.

  Brian picked up on the first ring. “Dora,” he said, a little too breathless to sound casual.

  But, Dora thought, he’s likely worried about me. Her heart sank as the reality of what just happened hit her and she relayed the events to Brian. Without the flash drive, she didn’t have any proof of the money laundering scheme, and she knew as well as any good accountant did that there were ways for Marco to cover his tracks. A whole new set of books and a few well-placed clues, and Dora would be on the hook for more than the accidental death of Steve Franklin. She asked, “What do I do now?”

  “You’re sure the kidnappers have the package?” Brian asked with a touch of optimism in his voice that made Dora uncomfortable.

  Dora didn’t have time to think that over at the moment because she was distracted by a woman’s voice calling out, “Billy! Billy, I need your help!”

  She looked out the window to see a woman wearing a cotton dress that had the shape of a flour sack. She also had big pink rollers in her hair as if she’d stepped off the set of a nineteen-sixties sitcom.

  “I’ve got this,” Evie said, and she got out of the truck to deal with the woman while Dora continued her conversation with Brian.

  Dora said, “They’ve got Billy’s mailbag which had to have had the package I sent to Evie with the flash drive since he was on his way to her front door.” Or was he, she pondered as she recalled that Billy had hesitated for a moment before the bag was snatched.

  “Good—I mean,” Brian paused. “I mean at least they got what they wanted and you’re no longer in danger.”

  “What?” Dora let out a noise of disbelief. “I am still in danger. You don’t really believe Marco is just going to let this go now that he has the flash drive, do you? I—” She whispered the next words. “I accidently killed his father.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I mean that at this very second you aren’t in danger. And you might be fine.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Look. Just lay low for a while, and I’ll get this sorted out. Whatever you do, don’t breathe a word of this to anyone. Got it?”

  Dora frowned. Brian didn’t seem very concerned about her wellbeing. His advice to lay low and not tell anyone about what she knew while she waited
for him to do something was more suspicious than the milk in Evie’s fridge. “And Billy?” she asked as she watched Evie take the hands of the woman in the housedress as if she was comforting her.

  “He’ll be fine. I’ve got this. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

  Dora’s stomach was in knots, and when her call with Brian ended, she stared at the phone in confusion. He had not acted like someone who was looking out for her best interests. The man had acted as if he was happy the robbers had gotten the package and brushed off her concerns about the kidnapped mailman. Something was definitely off.

  Chapter 7

  “Dora!” Evie called. “We have a situation.”

  That’s putting it mildly, Dora thought as she raised her eyebrows at her friend through the windshield of the mail truck.

  “Miss Carol here has a problem we need to help solve,” Evie said. Dora stepped out of the mail truck as Evie continued, “Mr. Whiskers is stuck.” She pointed at a large, red maple tree with the kind of branches kids and cats loved to climb. Up near the top sat a tabby meowing in distress.

  Dora looked at Miss Carol in disbelief. “You want us to climb up and get your cat?” She shook her head in dismissal. “The moment that cat is hungry he’ll come down for food.”

  “No,” the woman said with a shaky voice that made Dora think she was on the verge of tears. “No, he won’t.” Miss Carol’s tone turned to indignation as she threw her shoulders back. “And Billy wouldn’t have questioned me. He’d have climbed right up that tree and gotten Mr. Whiskers.”

  “She’s right,” Evie said. “And since we’re—” Evie paused to search for the right words that wouldn’t give away what was really going on. “Well, because we’re filling in for Billy, it’s our responsibility to help.”

  “You’re serious?” Dora asked Evie even though she already knew the answer. Evie had a soft spot for animals that defied logic.

  Evie put her hands on her hips and gave Dora the look. The one that said logic is not the answer to everything. And Dora knew that she wasn’t going to win this one. Some fights weren’t worth having. The least she could do to salvage the situation was make sure it was done right. She marched over toward the tree as forcefully as possible in flip flops with toe bridges curling up her tootsies, making her stride appear a bit like that of a duck.