March Street Mayhem Read online

  March Street Mayhem

  A short cozy mystery

  Estelle Richards

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Books by Estelle Richards

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  END | Author’s note

  Books by Estelle Richards

  Connect with Estelle

  About the author

  Books by Estelle Richards

  Lisa Chance Cozy Mysteries

  Last Chance for Murder

  Shooting on Location

  Killer Campaign

  March Street Cozy Mysteries

  March Street Murder

  March Street Mayhem

  Copyright 2020

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, location, or event is unintentional.

  Cover design by Tina Adams

  Welcome to the March Street Café, where coffee, sandwiches, and murder are on the menu.

  The Bingo Jubilee was going great! Most of Marchville was competing for the giant cash prize, but for Kelly it was just a good catering job.

  The night was filled with fun, games, and all the secrets and rivalries of a small town. Despite that, the pay was good and the work took Kelly's mind off some recent disturbing news.

  Yes, the Bingo Jubilee was going great....until they found the body.

  Now Kelly is once more flung into the middle of an investigation. Will she find the culprit before they strike again, and will Grandma Iris get the scoop to dish on her arch-rival Shirley?

  March Street Mayhem is the second short cozy mystery in the March Street Cozy Mysteries. It has no sex, no gore, and no swearing. It’s a short read, perfect for giving yourself a little treat in between tasks in your busy day.

  Chapter 1

  Grandma Iris took a deep sniff of autumn air. “I love this time of year. The leaves are changing, the air is crisp and refreshing, it’s back to school time.”

  We were strolling through the park at the end of March Street, giving Grandma Iris’s bulldog Buddy his morning walk. I was also on my way to work at the March Street Café. The maples, oaks, and elms planted all around the edge of the park gave us a show of reds, oranges, and yellows.

  “Did you love it this much when you were a teacher?” I asked.

  She thought for a moment. “Yes and no. Yes, I always loved the season, and every back to school was exciting. But no, because it did mean an awful lot of work.”

  “Do you ever miss it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. I miss some parts, but I don’t think I’d like to still be in a classroom at my age.” Grandma Iris was eighty, although everyone swore she didn’t look a day over seventy-five. She frowned, as though considering her age or her health. I’d been living with her the past few months, helping out after she had a fall.

  “Are you excited about the Bingo Jubilee this weekend?” I said, hoping a change of subject would cheer her up.

  “I am! Of course, with Shirley Morris in charge, I’m not sure how the whole thing will come off.”

  As though summoned by the mention of her name, Shirley appeared on the other side of the park, her tall, thin body mirrored by the long, thin body of her dog, Sparky. Buddy gave an excited bark of recognition.

  Shirley and Grandma Iris locked eyes across the green. After a moment, each pasted on a polite smile and waved to the other. An outsider might not guess how much the two despised each other, but smiling to your face while hating your guts was natural to these two lifelong Midwesterners.

  Shirley and Sparky walked toward us. The two dogs did their little dance of greeting while the humans sized each other up.

  “How nice to see you, Shirley,” Grandma Iris said. “You’re looking well.”

  “You are too, of course. But I’m sure I look a mess, what with my busy schedule lately.”

  Shirley’s subtle dig about her position organizing the Bingo Jubilee went home, and Grandma Iris’s smile grew strained.

  A short, plump woman with carefully curled iron gray hair and a perfectly coifed gray poodle hurried across the street, making a beeline for Shirley. Nancy Cook was Shirley Morris’s closest friend, or perhaps her most favored minion. Nancy never seemed at ease unless she could look over and see some sign of Shirley’s approval. Nancy’s poodle even had a matching leash to the one Shirley used with Sparky.

  “Shirley, there you are, I’m so glad I caught you,” Nancy said. She spared a glance at Grandma Iris and me. “Good morning Iris.”

  Grandma Iris nodded. “Good morning Nancy.”

  The three dogs sniffed each other happily.

  I smiled politely and hoped we could get moving soon.

  “I want to make sure everything is perfect for Mr. Cunningham’s arrival,” Nancy said. “I have his room booked with the Andersons’ Garden Rose Bed and Breakfast. I told them to give him the best room, the one overlooking the garden, not the one facing the alley. We can’t have our special guest in a room with a view of trash cans.”

  “That’s good,” Shirley said.

  Nancy glowed with pride. She turned to Grandma Iris. “Isn’t it good that the bingo society elected Shirley to oversee this year’s jubilee? I can’t imagine anyone else getting a big name caller like Fremont Cunningham, can you?”

  Grandma Iris had offered to organize the bingo jubilee, and Nancy knew it. Grandma Iris’s lips thinned. “Such a big name. Say, Nancy, how’s your grandson Buck lately?”

  Nancy’s face went pink. Buck had been caught using pills on his over-the-road trucking route and was on probation and out of work.

  “It’s a shame you weren’t in charge of the jubilee, Nancy, you always did such a good job with the school’s Say No To Drugs presentations.” Grandma Iris’s smile had grown positively feral.

  Nancy’s nostrils flared. “I’ll have you know that Buck is doing very well. Any plans for your granddaughter to get married?”

  My mouth fell open. I didn’t expect my love life to be dragged into a grandma fight.

  Grandma Iris’s chin went up. “Kelly is an artist. Let me show you some of her work.”

  I placed a hand on her arm. “We should just go.”

  “Let me show a picture of my granddaughter’s wedding in Hawaii this spring,” Nancy said. “And what about your grandson’s graduation photos, Shirley. Morton is a doctor.”

  All three grandmas got their phones out and started swiping and tapping to find the grandchild photos they wanted to show off. It was at that moment that trouble struck.

  Buddy, Sparky, and Nancy’s gray poodle went on high alert, barking in chorus and straining at their leashes. I looked to see what they were barking at. A sleek tuxedo cat sauntered across the leaf-strewn lawn, its tail waving in the air like a flag.

  After a few seconds of feline arrogance, the canine chorus reached a crescendo, and broke free of their owners. The cat tore up a tree. The dogs dashed across the grass, their leashes whipping behind them. And in all the commotion, Shirley, Nancy, and Grandma Iris dropped their phones to go running after the dogs.

  After several minutes of pandemonium, we finally got the dogs away from the base of the tree and the leashes untangled. The tuxedo cat lolled on a branch overhead, its tail twitching like a metronome.

  “Look at the time, I’m going to be late,” Shirley snapped. “Where’s my phone?”

  Cowed, Nancy led the way to the pile of phones in the grass. I
couldn’t tell them apart in their identical Marchville civic pride cases, but Shirley snatched her phone up and marched across the grass. Nancy grabbed hers as well and hurried after her. Grandma Iris dropped her phone into her purse and sighed.

  “I didn’t even get to show them your paintings.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Grandma Iris, they probably wouldn’t have appreciated them anyway.”

  She laughed. “Philistines.”

  We walked toward the downtown.

  “Nancy Cook was always a brown-noser, as long as I’ve known her.”

  “Grandma Iris!”

  “Well, it’s true. When we were teaching at Marchville Unity High School, she never missed a chance to butter up the administration.”

  “It must have worked, if she got to plan the Say No To Drugs presentations.”

  Grandma Iris cackled. “I don’t know that it ever got her much more than that, and her after-school self defense for girls club. We were paid the same salary. I heard she was the same way at Starling before the schools consolidated.”

  I shrugged. “I guess some people just need to have an idol to worship, they crave that kind of approval.”

  We had walked most of March Street and were now in front of the café. I looked in the window and saw that Maxwell, my ex, was sitting right on the other side of the glass. Grandma Iris spied him a second later.

  “Oh, Kelly, you should go in and have a bite to eat with Maxwell before your shift begins.”

  I shifted to the other foot. “I thought we were going to have a longer walk.”

  “Nonsense, I can finish walking Buddy. You go on in there.”

  “But Grandma Iris –”

  “La la la, I can’t hear you, we’re walking away.”

  My shoulders slumped. I knew when I was beaten. “Bye, I’ll see you tonight.”

  She waved a hand airily over her shoulder and I went into the café. I made eye contact with Maxwell and he waved me over to his table.

  It took a minute to order a coffee and a sandwich, and then it was the two of us sitting across from each other at a café table. Not at all like two people on a date. Not at all.

  I was relieved when Lucy brought my coffee. It gave me something to do with my hands and somewhere to direct my gaze.

  “I’m glad you’re here today. I have something to tell you, and I didn’t want to bring it up over the phone.” Maxwell took a deep breath and held it for a second before continuing.

  I added another sugar packet and stirred the coffee harder. When Grandma Iris had insisted I should join Maxwell in the café, I knew what she was really thinking: that Maxwell wanted to get back together with me. The problem was, I didn’t know how I felt about that. Sure, I still found him attractive. And I was mostly over the incident that broke us up way back when. But did I want to start dating him again? Did I want to date anybody?

  “Kelly? Kelly? Did you hear what I said?”

  I blinked and let go of the coffee spoon. I’d been so busy thinking about how I might respond to Maxwell that I’d tuned out completely.

  “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

  “I said that I wanted you to hear it from me, not as a piece of gossip. Your friendship is important to me.”

  “Uh, hear what?”

  “That I met someone. We’re seeing each other, and it’s, uh, getting pretty serious. I think Nicole could be the one.”

  Chapter 2

  Two days later I checked off the last item on the catering list and shut the back doors of Antoine’s van. Maxwell’s words were still rattling around in my head and I had a bruised ego, but I was trying to stay busy and keep my mind off it. Helping with the catering order for the Bingo Jubilee fit the bill, so I was hauling the trays of food to the bingo hall, setting up, and staying to clean up after.

  I’d tucked a little sketch pad and pencil into my apron pocket, in hopes that if there was downtime I could fill it by sketching some of the faces in the hall. I liked sketching older faces. I’d heard someone say that the face you have at twenty is what luck and genetics gave you, but that the face you have by forty is the face you’ve earned. The faces at the bingo hall would be earned and then some. Great for sketching.

  I was almost done unloading the trays of food when Grandma Iris spotted me. She gave a great cry and hurried across the room.

  “Kelly Marie Bordeaux, you didn’t tell me you were coming to the Jubilee tonight!”

  “I didn’t know for certain if Antoine would send me or not. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

  She squeezed me into a hug, and the feather on top of her new blue hat tickled my nose.

  “But here you are. Now, what kind of food did that Shirley Morris order? I can’t believe she took over the catering committee this year. That woman is trying to take over the whole gosh-blessed town, I swear.” She pinched a corner of foil to pull it up an inch. “What’s in this one?”

  “These two trays are sandwiches. Ham, turkey, and roast beef. We also have some ingredients for vegetarian sandwiches that I can make for people on request.”

  “I don’t think we have any vegetarians at bingo.”

  “Over here are the salads. Potato salad, macaroni salad, and garden salad with ranch or thousand island. And dessert is an assortment of bars. This tray is sugar-free and this one is regular.”

  “Is there anything I can help with?”

  “Don’t be silly, this is your event, enjoy yourself. Let me do the catering.”

  She wavered, and I could see that she’d stay and try to arrange the tables for me if I didn’t come up with a distraction. I spotted a distinguished looking stranger across the room, standing with Shirley Morris. From the intense way she was talking to him, I assumed he must be Fremont Cunningham. “Have you met that celebrity bingo caller?” I said.

  “I have. I was surprised at how young he looks,” she whispered. “I wonder what his secret is.”

  “Maybe you should go over there and ask him.”

  She looked over and saw what I’d seen, that Shirley was with Cunningham. Grandma Iris gave a firm nod and started across the room.

  I set everything up and took my position behind the tables on a little stool against the wall. People started to trickle in and make their way toward the food. I greeted people, answered questions, and offered vegetarian sandwiches on request. As Grandma Iris predicted, no one asked for a vegetarian sandwich.

  Nancy Cook hurried across the room, clearly intent on a mission. She must have been sent by Shirley. I smiled a welcome.

  “Shirley asked me to make plates for her and Mr. Cunningham,” Nancy said, looking over the spread. “What’s freshest?”

  “Everything is fresh,” I said.

  She pursed her lips and crinkled her brow. “I don’t want to give them anything but the best. That would never do. Can you recommend anything?”

  I started to tell her that everything was good, but stopped myself. “How about ham sandwiches and potato salad, those are particularly good. And would they like sugar-free or regular dessert?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’ll be right back.” She hurried away again.

  I watched Nancy walk away and then studied the crowd. As I’d expected, it was almost entirely older faces. Many of them were people I knew, and most of the rest looked familiar. I looked forward to doing some sketching while they played bingo.

  After a few minutes, Nancy scurried back, a chastened expression drawing the corners of her mouth down. Was it her idol Shirley or the famous Fremont Cunningham who’d made her look so unhappy? I wanted to say something to cheer her up, but drew a blank. Nancy wouldn’t appreciate being told neither Shirley or Cunningham was worth her time. She filled up the plates and left before I could think of anything to say.

  A few minutes later Shirley strode through the room toward the small stage at one end of the room. Nancy swam in her wake, holding a pile of boxes in her arms that nearly overtopped her head. Shirley climbed onto stage and tapped the microp
hone. “Thank you everyone, and welcome to the Marchville Bingo Jubilee! Please turn off your cell phones. And now let’s thank our volunteers, who’ve put in so much hard work.”

  Shirley’s introduction went on like that and I tuned out, watching the crowd and trying to pick which face I’d begin sketching first. A gasp from the crowd made me pay attention again. Shirley was holding up a wooden box that was decorated to look like a pirate’s treasure chest.

  “That’s right, twenty-five thousand dollars cash to tonight’s grand prize winner!”

  There were some whoops from the crowd.

  “Let’s all thank our generous sponsors for donating this incredible cash prize.” Shirley’s voice droned out a series of local businesses, starting with the bank.

  “And now, the man you’ve all been waiting for. Please give a warm Marchville welcome to Fremont Cunningham!”

  The crowd applauded as Cunningham climbed onto the stage beside Shirley. He kissed her on the cheek and proceeded to take over, basking in the applause. Shirley stepped down, taking the treasure chest with her. The crowd held its breath, waiting for the famous man to start calling the first game.

  A cell phone shrilled next to the stage. Shirley whipped her head around like a viper, searching for the culprit. Nancy’s face went beet red as she pulled the offending phone from her pocket. At a hissed word from Shirley, Nancy ran from the room. Shirley took the chest backstage.

  Cunningham took a seat next to the bingo machine and flashed a smile at the crowd. He pulled the first ball out of the machine and started calling the game with B-12. I took out my sketch pad and pencil and started limbering up by doing a very broad strokes impression of the whole room.

  “But Shirley, let me explain,” a voice whined just loud enough for me to hear.

  I turned to see who it was, and found that Nancy had caught hold of Shirley’s sleeve and was giving her best impression of a puppy who’d been caught with the remains of a favorite shoe in her mouth.

  “I would expect distractions, and – let’s call it what it is, attempted sabotage – from someone like Iris Conway, but not from you. Now let me go, I have to secure the money until it’s time for the grand finale.”