First Class Killer: A Cat Cozy Mystery: A Mail Carrier Cozy Mystery Page 2

  “Yeah. I bet that’s exciting.” Mary Ester shut the door once her mother was fully inside the salon and helped her mother over to sit in the only chair not occupied.

  “I’ll be with you in a jiffy.” Dora Lee was cleaning out the hair bowl.

  “I’ve got nowhere to go, sugar.” Kate picked up the magazine on the table between the two chairs. “You take your time.”

  “No, but I’ve got to get going.” By the tone of Mary Ester’s voice, she didn’t seem to like that her mom was making some provision for her.

  “Oh. I bet you’re all excited the new bookstore was preserved per the committee rules.” Jenny wagged a comb at Mary Ester.

  “It took a lot of convincing for the members to agree to a bookstore, especially since the old mill is the only thing that ties Sugar Creek Gap to the real reason it was established. But it did turn out nicely.” Mary Ester was on the board of the preservation committee.

  “I didn’t even think to ask you what was going in there.” I shook my head and rolled my eyes, for it never crossed my mind. “I’ve been walking past it for the last few months thinking it was just being nipped and tucked here and there like most buildings are downtown.” My mail-carrier bag began to slip off my shoulder. I pulled the strap back up toward my neck. “Speaking of walking, I’ve got to get going.”

  “Mom, you think you’re going to be fine here for a few?” Mary Ester asked Kate. “I’ve got to get down to the bookstore for a final inspection. This book signing gig was cutting it close, but since Stella Jane is a local, we promised we’d get it done.”

  “I can walk her back to her apartment,” Dora Lee said and smiled.

  She was a sweet young girl, and I wondered what she thought about Stella Jane’s success. Really thought about it since she was working in a nursing home hair salon with her mom. Not that it was a bad job, but let’s be real, what twenty-something-year-old wants to work with their mom, much less in a nursing home?

  With my goodbyes out of the way, I headed to the mailbox room of the senior living facility, where I put mail in the sixty-or-so mailboxes. That didn’t include the condominiums located on the property where my parents lived.

  It was truly the senior living area of the nursing home. It was a nice downsize from the farmhouse that my parents had given me and my now-deceased husband, Richard, when I was pregnant with Grady.

  Before I was pregnant, we lived above the diner in the one-bedroom apartment, which was perfect for a married couple with no children. I was a mail carrier, and Richard was a traveling salesman.

  My parents insisted on buying the condominium, making it way more convenient for them to live by the diner and perfect for our little family. Plus, I’d grown up on the farm, so it was totally home for me. I’d still continued the family Sunday-night supper, and when Grady and Julia told me they were pregnant, it was just the perfect time for me to downsize and give them the farmhouse.

  Timing was everything, and it fell into place like it was supposed to happen. One of my customers had passed away and left me his house. . . and his dog, which put me on Little Creek Road.

  And next to the Front Porch Ladies, which was the second loop of my mail carrier route.

  The first loop was always the nursing home. Since it was easy to simply fill the boxes, it made for a nice start of the day.

  Once they were filled, I walked back to the post office, which was located on Main Street with the other locally owned businesses in Sugar Creek Gap, making it so easy for me since the second loop was all those businesses and my little street of six homes.

  My home, the four Front Porch Ladies, and Mac Tabor.

  My boyfriend.

  “You look like you’re in la-la land.” Vivian was still standing at the front desk. “I told you Clara got her smarts from her daddy.” Vivian smirked and nodded to the television in the communal room that’d just played the interview with Stella Jane.

  Instead of telling her I was thinking about Mac, which did send my mind straight to joy, I smiled and waved goodbye.

  Chapter 3

  “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it.” Leotta Goldey, the owner of Social Knitwork, was at the counter when I walked in. Her hands were entwined in yarn. “Our Grady is a big-time star.”

  “You saw the national news this morning, I take it.” I took her mail out of the mail-carrier bag and replaced it with the outgoing mail she’d left for me in the small basket next to the register she used for the shop’s mailbox.

  “Yes.” She took the yarn off her hands, rolled it into two tight and neat balls, then set them next to the other ones she’d already completed. Leotta turned around and turned down WSCG, the local radio station. “I just about died when Stella Jane had said there was a bookstore opening at the Old Mill building.”

  Both of us turned to look out the yarn shop window since she did have a catty-corner view of the working old mill, but not necessarily the building behind it.

  The mill was very large, and it still pushed water along Main Street. It was original to the town, and the preservation committee had already put their stamp on it, allowing no one, and I mean no one, to touch it unless there was need of repair.

  Sugar Creek Gap wasn’t a tourist town. Our little community had been built on generations of families. We were a small community, but through the years, the owners of big farms had sold off various acres, and developers had built several subdivisions surrounded by mountains.

  Though we didn’t have any mill operations today, it was still a neat piece of history, and it was unique to have it right smack-dab in the middle of downtown.

  On most fall mornings like this one, you’d find residents who had walked downtown to get a nice cup of hot coffee and sit next to the wheel as they enjoyed the scenery and caught up with friends.

  Today, it looked as if everyone had gotten their coffee from the Roasted Bean and headed across the street to where rumors located the Old Mill Books .

  Our courthouse was located right behind the mill wheel and housed all the officially elected offices, clerks’ offices, PVA, and much more. Most of the lawyers in town even rented office space there. The sheriff’s department was in the back, and the volunteer fire department was located in the building next to the back parking lot. It was a one-stop legal shop for all of Sugar Creek Gap.

  Even the library’s parking lot, which was right next to the courthouse’s lot, was full. I could only imagine how happy they must be to possibly piggyback on marketing and get some author events for them as well.

  When Grady was a little boy, I used to take him to the library to the children’s section. I loved to read and asked several times throughout the years if they had any author events. Each time they told me the same thing, that no author wants to come to a small town with nothing really to offer, and there’s no bookstore for the community to buy books, so why would they?

  Eventually I stopped asking, but with the bookstore, all that could be a much-needed change. It was something I’d have to snoop out when I delivered the mail today.

  “I’m shocked the preservation committee got the building passed to even make the old thing into a safe shop.” I shrugged and leaned up against the counter, picking up the various yarns.

  “I’d not been in the building since I was a little girl.” Leotta turned back around and twisted the knob on her radio a smidgen louder once Lucy Drake, the morning DJ, came on the air. “I couldn’t imagine what hoops the owner had to go through to get it passed or even the cost.”

  “Welcome to Coffee Chat with Lucy. I’m Lucy Drake, your WSCGR DJ, and we are going to be spending a little more time than usual together today. If you haven’t heard all the buzz about the newest shop in downtown Sugar Creek Gap, then you’ve been living under a rock. Y’all, we have got ourselves a bookstore opening up. Just so you know, one of our very own, young twenty-three-year-old Stella Jane Clark, has written a romance book called Beyond Boundaries.”

  I looked at Leotta, and she wiggled
her eyebrows in excitement. I wasn’t so sure if I could buy it. The cover alone would make anyone in Sugar Creek Gap blush if it was seen out in public, and if Clara saw it at her young age, I’d die. Not that I was a prude. I certainly wasn’t, but if the inside was as steamy as the cover, I had to wonder where on earth Stella Jane had learned so much about such behind-the-door matters. And where was Elsbeth when this type of learning was going on?

  “If you didn’t see the cover on the national news when Stella Jane was on there, you need to get on your computers and google Beyond Boundaries. It’s already slated to be a big hit before it hits bookshelves this morning. To make matters even sweeter, our sweet Stella Jane is going to be signing books tomorrow at the Old Mill Books . But for now, I’m looking for your comments and thoughts on our small-town gal making it to the big time.”

  Lucy Drake sent the listening audience to a song. Leotta turned it down again.

  “This town is so excited.” Leotta grabbed a woven basket from underneath the counter and placed the rolled yarn balls in it. “What on earth did Grady say?”

  “I’m not sure he even knows. You know I text him every morning before he goes to work, and when I went back to the post office to get my second loop, I left him a text.” I pulled my phone out of the blue long-sleeved uniform cardigan I’d thrown on since the weather in the morning was still a bit nippy. “Still nothing. I bet he’s in class.”

  “I just can’t believe it,” she squealed and put a whole bunch of knitting needles in the basket.

  “Do you have a class this morning?” I asked.

  The Front Porch Ladies and I had taken a class from Leotta. All four of them were experts in knitting. I had been and still was the novice, though I piddled here and there. We were taking a fall class, and anything I ever did now was really based around Clara, so my new project was a little Christmas sweater for her to wear in our annual family Christmas photo. It had to be special since it would be her very first Christmas.

  The thought of it was way more exciting than the bookstore opening or even Stella Jane.

  “No. I’m teaching a pot holder knitting class over at the community center for the Sugar Creek Gap Senior Living.” I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. It seemed like everyone was trying to be sensitive and not call it a nursing home. “They have field trips for their residents, and I had ten people signed up for the ten spots. I was pleasantly surprised, but what I’m most excited about is Elsbeth Clark has signed up, and I can’t wait to hear what she says.”

  “I figured she’d be first in line at the bookstore.” I made the general comment and looked back at the door when the overhead bell rang, signaling one of Leotta’s employees coming in.

  “This is what’s most exciting.” Leotta greeted the other lady, who was taking off her light jacket to replace it with a Social Knitwork apron. “The store opens at eleven, which means it’ll be right when classes end, so I’m hoping we will all go over together.”

  “Eleven, huh?” In my head I was calculating just how much time I had to get all of the downtown area delivered, which meant all the various offices in the courthouse and the Front Porch Ladies, who I knew were already gathered on one of their porches anticipating my arrival.

  If I had to bet who was most excited, I’d say it was Gertrude Stone because I happened to notice a letter from her daughter who lived way far out west.

  “Bernie, I hate to run off, but I’ve got to go.” Leotta grabbed the basket and headed around the counter.

  “I’ve got to go too. I’ll see you at class tonight.” I followed her out.

  “Oh, that’s right. See you tonight.” She hurried down the sidewalk toward the community center, which was about four buildings down from her shop.

  I was able to quickly slip in and out of Tranquility Wellness since Peaches Partin was in a morning yoga class. I knew I wouldn’t get out of the next place so fast. . . the Wallflower Diner. Our family diner, where my mom and dad were watching the door. Instead of going in, I slipped on by into the General Store.

  Gill Tillett, Vivian Tillett’s husband, was behind the counter. Gill was a good ol’ boy who wore overalls and boots. He was about my parents’ age, and Vivian was much younger. I faintly remembered some rumblings about when they’d gotten together, which was big-time gossip in Sugar Creek Gap, but I didn’t care too much.

  They had a daughter named Drucilla.

  “I’m gonna tell you that I see a lot of photos funnel through here and a lot of babies, but that Clara is a gorgeous little baby.” Gill knew how to get to my heart.

  “There’s nothing wrong with your eyes,” I teased, and excitement made my heart go faster with the anticipation of the photos I was there to pick up.

  “You took one that really captured her little smile.” He reached down on the shelf behind the counter and grabbed the envelope of photos.

  The bigger pharmacies on the outskirts of town let you drop off film or even plug your phone into their fancy photo machines to get prints, but those weren’t as convenient for me.

  The General Store, which was right here on Main Street and on my route, was a little pricier but easy, so I’d dropped off the 35mm film from the old camera I had been playing around with. I was happy to hear the photos were ready.

  “I’ll trade you this for those.” I took his rubber-banded mail out of my mail-carrier bag and handed the stack to him in exchange for the envelope of photos. “What do I owe you?”

  “Seven forty-eight,” he said and thumbed through his mail.

  I leaned my hip on the counter and took a moment to go through the photos, and my heart lit up. I couldn’t believe how cute they were. I’d taken them when I had babysat her at my house and coaxed Rowena into a few when Buster was outside. Rowena was always up for a good treat bribe.

  “That’s a good one too.” Gill rested his forearms on the counter and looked over to see what photo I was looking at. “Sorry it took a couple of weeks, but you know I have to send out the film.”

  “No hurry.” I was just so happy to get them and see that the camera actually worked. It’d been so long, and it was one Richard had used before his death. “I’m excited to get some of her this weekend on the farm at Sunday supper. Do you have any more 35mm film?”

  “Your family still has Sunday supper?” Gill questioned and turned to look at the wall behind him. He plucked off a box of film.

  The wall behind the counter was where Gill kept what he considered the expensive stuff. That included film.

  “We do. I’m glad Grady and Julia wanted to continue to do it after they moved to the farm. It’s a big chore to have everyone over, especially now since we are growing.” I handed him my debit card to pay for the film and the photos.

  “You sure are lucky, Bernie.” He put the film and the photos in a brown sack and handed me back my card.

  “How is Drucilla doing in school?” I asked. She was a sweet young woman.

  “She had to make a few adjustments to living away from home, but she’s, what we like to say, blossomed like a morning glory.” He cackled and put his hands in the pockets of his overalls.

  “I’m sure it took some getting used to, but she’s a smart girl. You and Vivian did good.” I took the brown sack and put it in my mail-carrier bag. “I’ll have more film on Monday.”

  “If you get it in here Sunday night, I can probably have it back quicker. That’s when they pick it up.” He gave me some good information that just might come in handy.

  “Great. But Sunday supper tends to run up until well after you’re closed. You have a good week.” I escaped without being asked about Grady and his sudden rise to fame, at least by Sugar Creek Gap standards.

  Like I mentioned earlier, everyone pretty much knew when to expect me on my mail route, and my parents were the worst customers I had.

  “Bernie,” Mom gushed and practically ran over all the diners to reach me. “Have you heard?”

  “I have.” I pulled my mail-carrier bag around me and s
et it on the ground next to my feet as I took a seat on the open stool that was next to my dad at the counter.

  “I wasn’t sure, so I DVR’d it.” Dad had the small diner remote in his hand and pointed it directly at the TV, rewinding the interview with Stella Jane.

  “He’s been playing it nonstop all morning,” one of Dad’s usual cronies barked from down the counter.

  “It’s not every day your grandson is mentioned on national television, Merv,” Dad grumbled and hit the play button. “And in such a big book that might be a movie one day.”

  I just couldn’t imagine what was between those steamy covers that would warrant a movie deal, but I was definitely going to go find out for myself at eleven before the new bookstore sold out.

  “Can you believe it? A bookstore.” Mom put her hands up to her mouth with excitement written all over her face. “Me and my friends won’t have to pass around the one copy from the library of the book we are reading for book club. We can buy our own copies.”

  That was the thing with my mom. She and her friends at the senior living had a book club they liked to call monthly, only they picked books the library had only one copy of. It took them a long time to read a book. In reality, it was more like three months by the time everyone had gotten the book passed around.

  I’d tried several times to get mom to order the book online or even an e-book, but she refused. Me. . . the less I had to store in my little cottage home, the better. I was all electronic.

  “I’m glad it is all working out. Say, did you know it was a bookstore going in over there?” I asked, even though they didn’t have a straight shot of the old mill building and right across the street from the old mill building was the stop sign for Short Street.

  “I had no idea. I thought the preservation committee was trying to do something in there since they had all that brown paper up on the window, so I didn’t pay it any attention.” She reached through the pass-through window to the kitchen and picked up the to-go box. “Hand pies.”

  “Yes. Thank you.” I knew I needed to pick those up for Ruby. “Speaking of Ruby, did you know Jenny Franklin is now doing hair in your complex?”