Molly Grey Cozy Mystery Collection Page 2

  Molly Gertrude nodded as she waited for Dora to join her so they could walk together to her front door. "You are right, dear…," she said as she slid her arm around Dora's. "I am a grumpy old lady who is ever so grateful for all you do for me." She looked up into Dora's brown eyes that were peering at her from behind the enormous pink glasses that were perched on her nose. "I couldn't really do it without you, Dora. How long have you actually been helping me with the agency?"

  Dora shrugged her shoulders as they walked towards Molly Gertrude's front door. "Next month it will be exactly ten years, I think."

  Molly Gertrude stopped at the porch and looked up at Dora with her brows cocked in surprise. The wind was playing with a lock of her short, white hair that was usually kept in immaculate shape by the rollers she had used for at least fifty years. "Has it really been that long? My, oh my… Time sure flies," she snickered. "Ten years ago I was still considering myself a young doe."

  Dora giggled, but did not dare to contradict her.

  When Dora first started working for Miss Molly Gertrude Grey, the stubborn lady wouldn't use her cane, therefore she tilted when she walked. With much love Dora teased her about tilting and affectionately joked about Molly’s stubbornness at times.

  After Molly Gertrude had rummaged in her brown leather handbag (the small one that sported the finger-sized glass image of her cat Misty) she found her house key, and seconds later the door swung open with a loud creak.

  A small suburban house it was, right on the edge of town in a quiet neighborhood of Calmhaven, and just at the beginning of the vast forest that stretched out all the way to the coast. The house itself was nothing fancy, but it was clean, not too big, and not too small. It had a lovely rose garden in front, a small patio in the back where Molly Gertrude always loved to sit on a warm summer evening, and inside there was a place for everything and everything was in its place. Just the way Molly Gertrude liked it.

  Even though Molly Gertrude was certainly aging, she felt age was never an excuse to let things slide, and as long as she could still get up in the mornings she was determined to keep her surroundings clean and well-organized.

  "Imagine the Good Lord would show up for a visit," she would often chuckle. "I wouldn't want him to wrinkle his nose and shake his head because I failed to keep my place neat, would I?"

  "I guess not," Dora would answer dutifully, and she would invariably wonder if she would be just as perky as Miss Molly when she herself reached such a respectable age.

  But the years were beginning to tell on Molly with her wavy, white hair and her endearing smile. In the mornings she was, and these were her own words, as stiff as a dried-out sausage, but in spite of her increasing physical ailments, the little pains and the sometimes not so little pains, she kept the place shiny and in pristine condition. And, truth be told, she had more life and spunk in her than many people half her age.

  Of course, for the major jobs in the home she called in outside help. Just recently, Aaron Taylor had renovated the roof of her house for a special price. The roof had begun to leak in a storm and Aaron was called in the very next morning. It took him two full days, but when he was done, he boasted with a grand smile the covering was good again for another fifty years.

  "If I make it another ten, I'll be as happy as a lark," Molly Gertrude had chuckled while she had rubbed her wrinkled hands. But she was sure thankful for Aaron's good work, and even more thankful, that she was still able to live by herself with her cat Misty in such a lovely spot at the edge of Calmhaven, surrounded by friends and her ever-growing collection of sleuthing-women books.

  After Molly Gertrude had guided Dora into the living room and her assistant had settled into one of the plush, comfortable seats, she walked slowly to the kitchen to get the tea ready and minutes later she joined Dora again with a happy smile, a tray full of cookies and a steaming pot of raspberry tea.

  "I am sure glad organizing the wedding is behind us," Molly Gertrude began as she placed the tray with cookies before Dora on the coffee table. "Now all we need to do is make sure everyone does their part. I think the wedding will be a great success tomorrow."

  Dora nodded as she picked up one of the cookies. "Everything is ready. The food, the music, the arrangements… nothing is left to chance." As she nibbled on her cookie she leaned back into her seat as a satisfied expression washed over her face.

  Tomorrow, Mayor Abe Mortimer's daughter Charmayne was getting married, and Molly Gertrude, the owner of the Cozy Bridal Agency had been hired to make all the necessary arrangements. Both Molly Gertrude and Dora had worked almost non-stop for the last two weeks and now, finally, everything was ready.

  "We did it again, Miss Molly."

  Molly Gertrude mumbled while slightly nodding her head, to a black and white portrait of a lady in old fashioned clothes that was hanging on the wall above the empty fireplace.

  Dora arched her brows. "You actually never told me about that woman. Who is she…your mother, maybe?"

  Molly frowned. "I know I am old, Dora, but I am not ancient. That picture was taken in 1875. It's a photograph of my great-geat-great-great-Aunt on my father’s side. Can't you tell by her hairstyle?"

  Dora let out a soft whistle. "That's very old then, and her name was Molly too?"

  "That's right," Molly Gertrude chuckled. "She was Molly Gertrude White the first. I think I am the fifth or sixth Molly Gertrude… I may have lost count somewhere along the line. But, that woman…" she pointed with her finger in the direction of the painting, "… was the founder of the original Cozy Bridal Agency. It all started with her."

  "I see," Dora said, and nodded respectfully.

  Molly Gertrude leaned forward and poured Dora a cup of steaming hot tea while she narrowed her eyes as if deep in thought. "Have I never told you the history of the agency, in all these ten years?"

  "No," Dora shook her head as she picked up another one of Mollie's cookies. "You have not."

  "The Cozy Bridal Agency goes a long way back," Molly Gertrude said and her face got a faraway look. "Molly Gertrude White, first founded it, although in those days, I am sure, the agency was quite different from what it is today. She started it right after the Civil War. I suppose people were desperate in those days… You know with husbands killed in the war, women left behind with a slew of kids and lonely men settling the Western frontier. When she started the Cozy Bridal Agency it was an instant success. Her husband was a detective which caused her to become somewhat a sleuth on the side."

  “Have you ever heard of Mail Order Brides?”

  “No.”

  “When the men went to settle the West, they were lonely and advertised for women to join them as wives. Molly’s Cozy Bridal Agency sent out hundreds of brides. Molly Gertrude White was very careful matching her brides. Periodically she visited her brides to make sure they weren’t being mistreated.”

  Dora smacked her lips. "Things sure have changed since those early days."

  "I know," Molly sighed. "Sometimes, I am afraid I can't quite follow it anymore. Nowadays, men and women alike can just go online, find some obscure dating site and before they know it they get themselves in a boat load of trouble." She stirred her tea a little too wildly and spilled some on the coffee table.

  "It's called progress, Miss Molly," Dora said with a grin.

  Molly Gertrude looked at Dora. She wanted to argue the point, but when she stared at Dora's gentle, smiling brown eyes, hidden behind her enormous pink glasses, she couldn't help but smile back and agree. "You are right, Dora. It’s good that things keep changing. It has helped the agency as well."

  "Tell me more," Dora asked. "I suppose, Molly Gertrude the first handed the business over to her daughter, who was also named Molly Gertrude…"

  "No she had no children. It was passed within the family, mostly to those girls carrying her name."

  "So the agency stayed in the family, and was eventually handed down to you."

  Molly Gertrude nodded. "That's right, except my mot
her was the odd woman out, I should say. She didn't care for a Bridal Agency, and even though she never sold it, she let my aunt run the place." Molly Gertrude chuckled. "My mother just didn't fit. Even her name wasn't Molly Gertrude, but Amelia. When she died I inherited the agency… I took up the torch, and here we are today."

  "But you don't have any children, so…" Dora's voice trailed off, "…what will happen to the agency when… well… you know—"

  "When I die?" Molly Gertrude interrupted Dora as she peered at her assistant, but her eyes were not unfriendly. "I've made some arrangements." She let out a soft chuckle. "But, I suppose, we'll cross that bridge when we get there, won't we?"

  Dora blushed while she had her mouth full of Citrus Curd and shook her head in an effort to apologize. She took a sip of her tea to wash away the remains of the cookie and then said, "You've made the agency into a flourishing business. Ever since you have extended your business and have become an official wedding planner, we've got almost more work than we can handle."

  "And that at my age," Molly Gertrude said pensively as she lightly shook her head. "But I have you to thank for that, Dora. I don't know if we would be doing so well if it wasn't for that special organizational talent of yours. Tomorrow, the Cozy Bridal Agency will play a big part again in the happiness of two young people." She lifted her cup of tea in the air as if she were bringing out a toast. "To the happiness of Charmayne Mortimer and Billy Monroe."

  Dora lifted her already empty teacup in the air as well, but quickly put it back down on the coffee table and cleared her throat. "Do you really think Billy Monroe is a good match for that tender-hearted Charmayne?"

  Molly frowned.

  "He seems…," Dora explained, "…how should I say it…" She furrowed her brow and tilted her head a bit to the side. "… a bit shifty maybe, and extremely foolish."

  "And you are the expert on relationships?" Molly Gertrude let out a giggle as she narrowed her eyes, but quickly swallowed her giggles as she noticed the hurt expression on Dora's face. "I mean to say," correcting herself, "that it really doesn't matter what we think or don't think. They are two grown-up people and they are making their own decisions." Then she added in a lighter tone, "Of course, you may still object… You know how Papa Julian always says something like, 'If there's anyone who objects to this union, let him speak up now, or forever hold his peace.'" She peered at Dora. "You can still throw a monkey wrench in the whole affair, although I sincerely hope you won't. It wouldn't be a very good advertisement for our agency." Then she frowned and said with suppressed laughter, "But I get it… you were maybe hoping to marry Billy Monroe yourself."

  Dora's face flushed. "Me…? Good heavens, no way!" She lowered her eyes and groaned, "As I said, I just have my doubts about Billy. And as for me… I am afraid I will never get married." She let out a deep sigh and stared at the wooden floor of Molly Gertrude's living room.

  Molly Gertrude raised her eyebrows. "Why do you say that? You have so much to give… You are still young, pretty and bubbly. I would say you are a real treasure."

  Dora cast her a timid smile and mumbled something Molly Gertrude could not understand. Then she leaned over and grabbed another Silky Citrus Curd Cookie.

  "What about that young gentleman at the police station?" Molly Gertrude insisted. "What's his name again? Digby?”

  "Digby," Dora corrected Molly Gertrude, but as she said his name, Molly Gertrude noticed Dora blushed.

  "He seems like a nice young man," Molly Gertrude said as she leaned back. "I would thin—"

  "Do you think the wedding cake will turn out all right?" Dora cut Molly Gertrude off and changed the subject forcefully.

  "Of course it will. Why do you even ask?"

  "Because we've arranged everything, except for the cake. Charmayne and Billy wanted us to take care of even the smallest details, but when I mentioned the cake, Billy was quite adamant, even to the point of being rude. "The wedding cake is none of your business." Dora mimicked Billy's dark voice. "I felt like a schoolgirl being reprimanded for chewing gum."

  Molly Gertrude smiled as she looked at Dora, who nervously licked a few obstinate cookie crumbs off her lips. Even though Molly Gertrude had told Dora not to worry about it, it seemed her assistant was still holding a bit of a grudge.

  "If their wedding cake is bad, or something is wrong with it, it will reflect negatively on the agency," Dora added.

  "Of course it won't, Dora Brightside," Molly Gertrude said in a decisive voice. "Have you not heard who is responsible for the wedding cake? I thought you knew."

  Dora gave Molly Gertrude a blank stare.

  "The wedding cake is made by Alfred," Molly answered, as she almost whispered the name in respect. "He's the best cake maker in the whole region. His cakes are ten times better than my silly Silky Citrus Curd Cookies."

  Dora's face flushed. "I didn't know that."

  Molly Gertrude shrugged. "If you marry, and your best man happens to be a fabulous cake maker as well, it's quite normal you ask him to prepare the wedding cake. Wouldn't you do the same?" Molly Gertrude gave Dora an encouraging smile and added, "Wait till you get your hands on that wedding cake. Then, and only then, will you know what they serve the angels in heaven."

  Dora pressed her lips together and nodded as she thought about it. Then she wrinkled her nose and she balked, "Still, I don't like Billy Monroe." After she said it, she dropped the subject and a wide grin appeared. "But, you are wrong about one thing…"

  "What's that?"

  Dora chuckled. "I don't think Albert Finney's cake can be better than your cookies. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can beat those."

  Just then Misty jumped on Dora's lap, but it wasn't meant as a show of affection. While purring, she used Dora as a springboard, and only a second later, before the astonished eyes of Dora, she landed with all four paws on the coffee table and began to nibble on the last remaining Citrus Curd cookie.

  Dora shook her head. "I thought Misty loved me, but she's only using me to get what she wants." She curled her lips. "Cats are carnivores, Miss Molly. You shouldn't spoil Misty like that."

  "Can't help it," Molly Gertrude chuckled. "I spoil all my friends and that includes you, as I still have a few more cookies left in the kitchen, Dora. Just for you."

  3

  Was it really an accident?

  Calmhaven, June 12

  Right after Abe Mortimer had keeled over

  Police inspector John Joseph Barnes, JJ to most of the folks in Calmhaven, was a serious looking police officer. At least, that's how he liked to see himself. Strong, muscled and always in control. And he tried hard to live up to the image he had of himself. He figured such an intimidating presence would be enough to scare people into behaving properly. Don't mess with JJ Barnes. He's in control.

  And it had worked. At least, that's what he thought. And according to the statistics and his own calculations, there was hardly any crime to speak of in Calmhaven.

  JJ Barnes was in control. And it was true that he had a massive body. His square shoulders and the muscled arms that stuck out of his short-sleeved uniform gave the impression of a seasoned prize-fighter. His equally square face with the sharply chiseled jawbones, the bristly mustache, and the peering eyes matched the picture as well.

  But everyone who knew JJ Barnes a bit better, and that was pretty much the whole town, knew that underneath the uniform, there was a jolly man, close to retirement, who was the only perfect candidate in town to dress up like Santa Claus during the holiday season. After all, his body was not only massive, but clearly overweight as well. That was mostly due to his love for a good, cold Budweiser or two. He had gotten into many an argument with his wife about his fast protruding belly, but so far, her gentle words of wisdom had fallen on deaf ears. And the townspeople did not mind as the true nature of JJ Barnes would come out after only a few sips of the celebrated malt and then he would be cracking jokes and looked nothing like a much to be feared officer of the law.

  But today
he was on duty, and as he stepped into the wedding hall, looking gruff, everyone knew it was best to stay out of his way.

  Everyone that is except Molly Gertrude Grey. As soon as she saw the police man enter, followed by Deputy Digby, she staged herself strategically close to the place where Abe Mortimer had tumbled to the ground, apparently waiting for her chance to speak to the man.

  "I am sorry for this terrible affair, Miss Mortimer," Barnes mumbled to Charmayne who was still weeping uncontrollably.

  Charmayne looked up. "It's Mrs. Monroe," she howled. "I just got married, but thank you anyway."

  Barnes' face flushed. "Sorry, Miss… eh Mrs. Can you tell me what happened?"

  "Leave her alone, JJ." Best man Albert Finney stepped forward and stared with angry eyes at the policeman. "Can't you see she’s distressed? You can talk to us. We all saw what happened here."

  Barnes frowned, forcing his eyes into an icy stare. "What did happen, Finney?"

  "An accident," Finney fired back. "He choked and fell over."

  “Dead?”

  “Well, we don’t know, but he sure looked very unwell!”

  "He choked? On what?"

  "Cake."

  JJ Barnes curled his lips. "You mean he choked on a nut in the cake or something?"

  "No, he did not. The nuts in the cake were mashed up. It was a sponge cake."

  Barnes pulled on his mustache. "How then can you choke on sponge cake?"

  Finney shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. But it happened."

  "It's true, officer," Charmayne wailed as she looked up at the police man. "We all saw it… he choked and fell over. The medics rushed him to the hospital, and we don’t even know if he’s alive or d…d…” Another wave of tears rolled in and she turned her face away again.

  Barnes pressed his lips together and nodded. "Most unfortunate," he mumbled. "A most unfortunate accident." Then he turned to Digby. "Just take a few statements, Digby, for the record. This was clearly an accident, and this case is as good as closed."