Poisoned Pin: A Cozy Mystery (Brenna Battle Book 2) by Laney Monday Page B
Authors: Laney Monday
Tags: Fiction
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like a hero, as well as ignite some compassion for Harvey, lessening the parents’ fear of this admittedly odd, crazed looking man barging in on their children’s very first judo class.
Harvey looked like he could use all the sympathy he could get. His eyes bugged out behind his rain-streaked glasses. Rain water dripped from the ends of his white curls and down the tip of his nose. He wore a flannel shirt and jeans, both hopelessly sodden and sagging heavily on his frame. His feet were bare. His breathing was as wild and ragged as his appearance. He looked every bit like a man running for his life.
I took his arm and shot a nervous smile over my shoulder at the parents and kids. “What is it, Harvey? What’s the matter?” I spoke softly, hoping that when he answered, he’d copy my tone. Nope. He caught his breath—unfortunately enough of a breath to bellow, “Help! They’re trying to kill me, too! I can’t believe it. They’ve turned on me.”
I put a hand on Harvey’s arm and tried to get him to look at me. He did, and let me tell you, it was just a little bit scary. There was no mistaking the sheer terror in his eyes. “Who’s trying to kill you?” I whispered.
“Moira! All of them. She’s got them all on her side.” Harvey still didn’t get my whispering hint.
“We’ll get this all figured out, Harvey,” I said. But how? How do you figure things out for a guy who’s deathly afraid of people who don’t exist? Or at least, people who don’t exist anymore, outside of the afterlife.
Blythe rounded the kids into a circle on the mat as I walked Harvey further away, toward the door. Sofie continued to cling to her mother by the benches, but the rest of them let Blythe distract them.
“Who can show me how they might get out of the pin we just did?” Blythe said.
Hands shot up, and I breathed a sigh of relief. My kids weren’t going anywhere yet. Whether they came back tomorrow was another matter. My kids . Wow, those words felt good.
The bell on the door jingled again. “Someone called 9-1-1?”
I recognized Will’s pleasantly rough voice in an instant. Speaking of an instant, that was pretty fast. One of the parents must have been right on it. And Will must have been close by. The Bonney Bay PD was one officer smaller now, since my meddling—ah—sleuthing had landed one of them in jail last week, but typically not much happened in this little town. Or so I was told. Things had been rather eventful since Blythe and I had arrived.
“I think Harvey needs to talk to you.” Please, get him out of here , I begged Riggins with my eyes. I wanted to suggest they go outside, but the already pounding rain had increased to an absolute torrent. I looked around the dojo, as if by some miracle a separate room that had never existed would materialize. The former dance studio was one large room, with the apartment Blythe and I shared above it. The only place to go was the bathroom or the stairwell that led to our apartment. The bathroom was no good, and I had a feeling we’d still hear Harvey in the stairwell.
“Why don’t you take Harvey upstairs to our apartment?” I suggested. “It’s unlocked.”
I was so desperate to get Harvey—and the scene he was making—out of my first real class. But Will Riggins was going to be in our apartment. Without supervision. My heart bounced in my chest at the thought. Not that he was the type to nose around and get into things—at least I hoped he wasn’t—but I was pretty sure I’d left a load of clean, unfolded laundry on the living room floor. I tried to recall which underwear was included in that load. With my luck, something ratty and comfortable. Maybe he’d think they were Blythe’s. I know, that was awful of me.
But who am I kidding, anyway? Blythe’s underwear is all in great shape. Every pair has a bra that matches. If you’ve known her for more than ten seconds, you can guess she’s not the type to keep faded, holey granny-panties lying
Harvey looked like he could use all the sympathy he could get. His eyes bugged out behind his rain-streaked glasses. Rain water dripped from the ends of his white curls and down the tip of his nose. He wore a flannel shirt and jeans, both hopelessly sodden and sagging heavily on his frame. His feet were bare. His breathing was as wild and ragged as his appearance. He looked every bit like a man running for his life.
I took his arm and shot a nervous smile over my shoulder at the parents and kids. “What is it, Harvey? What’s the matter?” I spoke softly, hoping that when he answered, he’d copy my tone. Nope. He caught his breath—unfortunately enough of a breath to bellow, “Help! They’re trying to kill me, too! I can’t believe it. They’ve turned on me.”
I put a hand on Harvey’s arm and tried to get him to look at me. He did, and let me tell you, it was just a little bit scary. There was no mistaking the sheer terror in his eyes. “Who’s trying to kill you?” I whispered.
“Moira! All of them. She’s got them all on her side.” Harvey still didn’t get my whispering hint.
“We’ll get this all figured out, Harvey,” I said. But how? How do you figure things out for a guy who’s deathly afraid of people who don’t exist? Or at least, people who don’t exist anymore, outside of the afterlife.
Blythe rounded the kids into a circle on the mat as I walked Harvey further away, toward the door. Sofie continued to cling to her mother by the benches, but the rest of them let Blythe distract them.
“Who can show me how they might get out of the pin we just did?” Blythe said.
Hands shot up, and I breathed a sigh of relief. My kids weren’t going anywhere yet. Whether they came back tomorrow was another matter. My kids . Wow, those words felt good.
The bell on the door jingled again. “Someone called 9-1-1?”
I recognized Will’s pleasantly rough voice in an instant. Speaking of an instant, that was pretty fast. One of the parents must have been right on it. And Will must have been close by. The Bonney Bay PD was one officer smaller now, since my meddling—ah—sleuthing had landed one of them in jail last week, but typically not much happened in this little town. Or so I was told. Things had been rather eventful since Blythe and I had arrived.
“I think Harvey needs to talk to you.” Please, get him out of here , I begged Riggins with my eyes. I wanted to suggest they go outside, but the already pounding rain had increased to an absolute torrent. I looked around the dojo, as if by some miracle a separate room that had never existed would materialize. The former dance studio was one large room, with the apartment Blythe and I shared above it. The only place to go was the bathroom or the stairwell that led to our apartment. The bathroom was no good, and I had a feeling we’d still hear Harvey in the stairwell.
“Why don’t you take Harvey upstairs to our apartment?” I suggested. “It’s unlocked.”
I was so desperate to get Harvey—and the scene he was making—out of my first real class. But Will Riggins was going to be in our apartment. Without supervision. My heart bounced in my chest at the thought. Not that he was the type to nose around and get into things—at least I hoped he wasn’t—but I was pretty sure I’d left a load of clean, unfolded laundry on the living room floor. I tried to recall which underwear was included in that load. With my luck, something ratty and comfortable. Maybe he’d think they were Blythe’s. I know, that was awful of me.
But who am I kidding, anyway? Blythe’s underwear is all in great shape. Every pair has a bra that matches. If you’ve known her for more than ten seconds, you can guess she’s not the type to keep faded, holey granny-panties lying
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