No Good Deed Unpunished - Part 1

Summertime, suicide, and secrets…

The mid-year slump is about to turn into a nosedive for Vangie Guillory’s bookstore. To keep The Mystery Book Nook firmly out of the red, she needs an influx of funds to bolster sales, but how can she make that happen with revenue at little more than a trickle?

Lucky for Vangie, the town gossip has dropped the perfect opportunity into her lap. A local attorney’s suicide has revealed a treasure trove of books, including some collectors’ editions, and the estate hires Vangie to inventory and market them. The fee for her services is just what she’s looking for, but when Vangie’s heartbreaking past and overactive imagination collide, she begins to suspect the attorney’s death might not have been by his own hand.

It's hard to know whose secrets are more dangerous: Vangie’s or the dead attorney's. But one thing is clear… no good deed goes unpunished.

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Chapter 1

“Look at how Clem stares at you. That’s love, Vangie. I can tell.”

I wrinkled my nose and flicked a glance at the one-eyed cat. He blinked and stared at me in a way that I was sure meant more to express his disdain than any sort of affection.

A snort drew my attention, and I let my eyes travel to the floor where Elroy, the potbellied pig, was lounging on one side, his midriff so big the legs on the opposite side dangled up in midair.

“And you know, except for home, this is the only other place Elroy’s really comfortable.”

Shaking my head, I pivoted a little in my seat so that I wouldn’t have to look at the animals. I hoped my employee would get the hint and find something productive to do so that I could finish balancing the month’s ledger.

It was a mystery to me why I even allowed Erin to have her cat and his pig companions in the bookstore. As the boss, I should be able to put my foot down about her barnyard “kids,” but she’d never once asked my permission to bring them, and I’d never once forbade it. I was getting soft, and there was nothing I could do about it.

“So,” Erin persisted, coming closer. She crouched down and put one arm on the desk, then perched her chin on her hand. “Do you have big plans while I’m away?”

I narrowed my eyes at her, a nagging sense of suspicion rolling up my spine. “No, but I expect it to be a lot quieter around here.”

Elroy grunted as if in reply, and I rolled my eyes.

“It’s the first time I’ll take a whole week off. You could be lonely, you know.”

I finished tapping numbers into my calculator, then wrote down the last total before tossing my pencil down.

“We’re in a slump,” I declared as I stared at the figures. “The Christmas bump didn’t last nearly as long as I’d hoped, and we’re not seeing the typical summer uptick, either.”

She frowned down at me, lower lip sticking out. “Maybe we should host an event or something. Or maybe get someone to come do a book signing?”

I shrugged. “Both of those cost money to plan and run. The margin is really tight, and if it didn’t bring sales…”

“Maybe an online event? Something around the forum?”

I picked up my pencil again and tapped it eraser-side down a few times, brows pinched in tight in a frown. With a shrug, I shook my head and closed the ledger, turning my eyes back to Erin.

“Okay, spill it. What is going on here? Are you getting cold feet about this trip or something?”

Her dark eyes got wide, and she curled one side of her lips up before standing and walking over to the chair across from me.

“No, of course not. I’ve only been back to Minnesota a few times since we moved here. I’m looking forward to seeing home and my family.”

The girl was warming up to something, I knew, so I got up and popped a K-cup pod into the brewer and hit the button to make a glass of Earl Grey tea. The chug, churn and hiss of the machine worked its course, and after a moment, I brought the mug to my mouth and blew on the hot liquid before slurping a sip.

“Also,” Erin continued. “I really need to see my grandma. She hasn’t been well, and I’d feel awful if something happened and I hadn’t seen her again.”

Nodding, I returned to my seat. “Yeah, family is important. I think it’s good you’re making this trip.”

“You do?” She smiled big. “I do, too. I really do.”

“And the problem is…”

She glared at the floor a moment, then finally took a deep breath. “It’s Elroy and Clem,” she finally blurted. “The friend who was going to stay with them canceled on me, so I wondered if you could take them.” The words rushed out of her mouth so fast I was fairly certain I couldn’t have heard them correctly. I blinked, squinted, then blinked again.

“Are you crazy?” I stood, my tea sloshing a bit. Snatching some tissues, I dabbed at the little brown spots appearing on a stack of papers. “You want me to keep your barn animals?”

“Oh, but Vangie, please. I’m in a tight spot here. And the kids aren’t any trouble. Look at how well-behaved they are here at the shop. They never make a mess, and the customers love them. And they won’t be any trouble at your house, either. They have their own little bed to sleep in and all you have to do is tuck them in…”

“Tuck them in? You are crazy, aren’t you? I don’t do pigs in my house, Erin.”

Her eyes welled up with unshed tears, and I gritted my teeth. I was absolutely, without a doubt, going soft. How had that happened? All of the hard, stone-cold walls I’d built up to finally get rid of my no-good ex-husband, and here I was with just a pile of rubble and a heart that was going squishy over some stupid animals.

About that time, Clem stood, stretched his long orange legs and sauntered towards me. He gazed at me with his one eye as he rounded my desk. The cat sashayed to my legs, making two circle-eights to rub against my calves before hurrying back to his pig-friend’s side and plopping down beside him.

“You don’t like me,” I hissed at him. “You don’t like me, and you’re only putting on an act. You’ll probably suffocate me in my sleep or something.”

When I returned my gaze to Erin, she had a hopeful smile on her lips. I released a long, forlorn breath.

“I swear if you’re not back in one week I will have that pig sent to the butcher and the cat… well, I don’t know what I’ll do with the cat, but I’ll think of something.”

She grinned bigger, then screeched in excitement. “Thank you so much, Vangie. I’ll bring you an awesome souvenir from my home state. Maybe a…”

The phone rang, interrupting her. I reached without looking, bringing the receiver to my ear. “The Mystery Book Nook.”

“Oh, good, it’s just the woman I wanted!”

My stomach dropped, and I closed my eyes as I forced a plastic smile. “Hello, Georgie, what can I do for you today?”

Erin chuckled as she made her way out of my office. As much as Georgie was a good customer, there was something about the nosy woman that got on my last nerve. The fact that she could not mind her own business probably had something to do with my disdain.

“Well, did you hear about that old hermit out in the Trumble subdivision?”

Cocking my head to the side I put a hand to my forehead. “Is this the start of a joke or something, Georgie?”

She giggled like a school girl. She was not a school girl, though. She was fifty-eight if she was a day. “You’re such a kidder, Vangie. Of course it’s not a joke. His name was Bell. Mark Bell. You know, everyone knows about him. The wreck over in Beaumont years ago? You know the one.”

I did, now that she’d naggled my memory a bit. Mark Dean Bell had been an attorney with a major personal injury firm in Beaumont. The accident that paralyzed him had involved a Christian pop star by the name of Tony Cash who had been in town for a concert. The criminal trial was big news for months, and when that was finally over, the civil lawsuit took its place as major news not only in Jefferson County, Texas but the rest of the country. The singer’s name was dragged through the mud, and all of his skeletons were pulled out of the closet. Bell recovered a hefty judgment that I understood the young vocalist was still paying off.

“Yeah, Georgie. I remember. So what riveting news do you have about Mr. Bell?”

“He’s dead! Can you believe it? Blew his own brains out right there in his home last week. My good friend Leigh lives in Trumble Heights and she says the place was swarming with cops after it happened. It was wild!”

I glanced at the clock wondering how long I could hold out before I said something rude to get her off the phone. “Really, that’s so interesting.”

It was not interesting. Not in the least. Watching water boil would have held more interest for me at that moment. The truth was while I’d never met Mark Dean Bell, I hadn’t liked the person I’d seen in the news even one iota. I couldn’t drum up any sympathy for the guy.

“Her neighbor Stephen Pidgeon just happens to have been one of Bell’s only friends. And he’s been johnny-on-the-spot for the police investigation. Ex-cop, you know.”

I knew and she knew I knew. Since I’d been married to a policeman, I’d met and spent time with most of the cops who’d been on the force over the last several decades. Pidgeon and my ex had even worked a few cases together.

“And what does any of this have to do with me, Georgie? Because I have things do to,” I said in an acerbic tone.

One more glance at the clock revealed I’d managed to be nice for about ninety seconds. I thought I could be proud of that.

“Don’t be impatient,” she admonished. “I’m coming to that. So, Leigh said Pidgeon is working with the lawyer who is Bell’s executor in his will and when she told me about the books, I just knew you were the one to call. And they agreed. The attorney would like you to come out this very afternoon to look.”

“I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying. What do they want with me?”

“It’s the books, Vangie. He has a whole library full of books. Some first editions, some classics. And almost entirely mystery. They’re looking for someone to appraise the value and possibly to purchase them. I told them you were the woman for the job! The attorney wants you to meet him at the home this afternoon to get started!”

Books? And first editions, Georgie said. I wondered at the possibilities of what I might uncover. Still, the thought of going into a place where someone had just a few days earlier killed themselves. With a gun? Would there be blood and gore? I shivered and swallowed.

“Did you say job, Georgie?”

She sighed as if exasperated that I couldn’t quite keep up. “Of course, a job. As in, they will pay you for your time.”

I glared at the ledger book a minute, considering the shrinking bottom line of my little bookstore.

“What’s the address and what time should I be there?”