I shooed them inside Arthur’s house. “Well, I’m watching,” I said. “So, get the kettle on. I’ll be having a coffee. I need to be alert for when someone appears.” Snapping my fingers. “And I’m not leaving until something happens.”

  It wasn’t until thirty minutes after I sat in the chair closest to the window with a cup of coffee nestled in my hands, that I noticed a car slow down outside Mona’s house before pulling to a complete stop. A second car pulled up behind it, and out poured several young women, clamouring up the drive to Mona’s front door—their shifty bodies, turning with caution to look around themselves. Almost like they’d been warned about me.

  “Look,” I said, jumping and almost spilling coffee over my blouse. “There’s—one—two—six people.”

  “Six?” Betsy fumbled over to my side. “I thought maybe one or two, but--”

  Both Arthur and Betsy looked outside, wide-eyed. Clearly, I’d triggered something. A thought. Perhaps they were believing me now. Ms. Mona Wilson wasn’t someone to be trusted, and definitely not someone to be given the benefit of the doubt.

  “I’m going to march right over there and ask her why she lied to us,” I said, turning and placing my cup on the side table. “Are you coming?”

  “I’ll watch from the door,” Betsy said.

  Arthur agreed. “I don’t think I want to see her like I did this morning.”

  I passed them both, watching as the curtains of the front room were closed, even while it was still daylight outside. It was completely criminal, that was enough for me to go over and ask. I hurried over as fast as my body could carry me, but the front door was closed shut at this point and unless I was part of the party, I don’t see myself sneaking inside.

  Knock. Knock. KNOCK.

  The mechanical click of locks popping sounded, and a happy voice of cheer came out of what I assumed to be Mona. “Oo we have a straggler,” she chimed. “Come on i--” At the sight of my face, she gasped. “You. What do you want?” she asked.

  “You’re having a party?”

  She slammed the door to her living room shut. “It’s not a crime, Delia,” she said. “Don’t you have anything else to do with your time? Like tend to a garden, or harass someone else.”

  “My garden is this neighbourhood,” I said. “And I’m tending to the people who wish to bring in disharmony.”

  She growled slightly, grinding her teeth. “That’s it, Delia,” she said. “I am phoning Paulette’s son. He spoke to me earlier about you, and I didn’t think he was being serious, but you know what. He was.”

  My mouth fell slack as I gasped, looking around to see if anyone else had heard. “What did he say?” I asked, staring directly into her eyes.

  “That I need to be careful. When you have something in your sights, you’re like a bloodhound.”

  “Bloodhound?”

  I’d only used that term earlier today, and now it was being used against me. And I certainly hadn’t mentioned it in the short conversation I’d had with the detective.

  “Delia, Delia,” Betsy called from behind.

  “Yes, take her away,” Mona said. “Before she’s carted off in the back of a police car.”

  I pointed to the cars. “Maybe I’m onto something. Maybe I’m onto you,” I said. “Whatever you’re doing, I will find out.”

  “It’s called having friends,” she said. “Maybe if you didn’t only have two, you’d understand.”

  “Excuse me,” Betsy said in my rescue. “But I hardly doubt you have that many friends.”

  “Thanks for the cake,” she said, slamming the door shut behind herself.

  Loud garish pop music played at the sound of the door slamming. It muffled any voices and anything else coming from inside the house. Betsy and I tried our best to look through curtains, even the small area where the curtains didn’t overlap properly, but there was a vase in the way. It was a doomed task, and Arthur watched with a giant smile on his face.

  “Believe me now?” I asked Betsy as we turned to walk away.

  “No,” she replied. “I don’t know what she’s up to, but like you said, it’s probably the divorced women society, or something.”

  “Divorced Spouses Anonymous,” I corrected her.

  “Ladies,” a familiar firm voice called from up ahead.

  Arthur escaped back into his house as the sight of Finley startled us all.

  He stood with his hands cocked on his hip and a shake to his head. “Ladies,” he repeated. “Have you been harassing Ms. Wilson?” he asked.

  I gasped, but my mouth couldn’t move fast enough as I turned slightly to see us both standing with Mona’s house in the back. “Well, you’ve been talking about us—me—to her, and telling her all sorts of nasty things about me.”

  “All I did was warn Ms. Wilson about your call—and it turns out you were at her front door early this morning. And again today,” he said. “You’re lucky she’s not calling the police.”

  I waved a hand at him in a huff. “Well, are you going to address the cars? And the loud music?”

  He huffed. “She can play her music. It’s not before 7 A.M. or after 8 P.M.”

  “But I think whatever she’s doing in there, it probably prohibits numerous fire safety codes,” Betsy said. It was something I hadn’t even thought of yet.

  I snapped her fingers in Fin’s direction. “Exactly.”

  “It’s a ground floor room,” he said. “There’s windows, a door, and I’m sure there’s no more than fifteen people in her front room.”

  He escorted us both back to our homes, advising us both to stay indoors and stay out of trouble. Not like either of us could get into trouble while we were both home—but little did he know, being home with my thoughts and replaying what had happened over the late afternoon and early evening would only give me more fuel.

  Fifteen minutes after we’d been sequestered home, Betsy appeared through my back door, huffing and puffing in a rage.

  “Billy is annoyed,” she said. “He spoke to Fin about what happened, and apparently Billy thinks it’s irresponsible for us to be going around like we’re staring in some Enid Blyton kid’s mystery book.”

  “It would be fun if we did though,” I chuckled.

  “I’m actually with you on this one,” she said. “I don’t think Mona is telling the truth, and as much as I want to leave it alone. She’s reacted in such a way that only warrants an actual response, and we need to find out what she’s doing.”

  “Definitely wasn’t her daughter,” I said. “If that girl hadn’t have come to my house, crying and wet through, the poor girl, I might have just moved away from it and only noticed when the cars began parking all up the side of the road every single day like we don’t need to walk on the pavement at all.” I puffed out a deep breath.

  Ring. Ring.

  “I bet it’s Arthur,” she said. “I can’t believe he ran away.”

  Ring. Ring.

  “Let’s hope.” I picked the receiver up. “Hello?”

  “Mother,” Caroline’s voice called out. “Okay. I’m not mailing this to you,” she said.

  “Oh? But why not?”

  “Firstly, I don’t know why you can’t go to a library, and secondly, I don’t want you interrogating anyone.”

  I tssked my teeth and tongue together. “Give me the highlighted portion of the text,” I said. “The part after the lecture where you tell me about the techniques.”

  “If it makes you happy, I read that looking up to the left means you’re telling the truth, and up to the right means you’re lying,” she said. “Do what you please with that information, but please don’t get yourself arrested. I really don’t want to take time off work to come down and make sure everything is okay.”

  “Chance would be a fine thing,” I snorted. “Do you have plans to visit at all?”

  “Yes,” she said. “But we’re busy. Once things have settled on your end, and work is great on mine, then we will visit.”

  “Hmm.” I toyed with the cord of the house phone. “So, is there anything else?”

  “About?”

  “From the information.”

  “No, mother,” she replied in a drone. Clearly, I’d done something to annoy her. I thought my life was full and lively, that’s the dream of any child to have of their parent. I wasn’t pestering her. “I’m keeping you from trouble.”

  “Okay. Talk soon, sweetie.” I hung up.

  Betsy sighed. “What’s happened now?”

  “I’d asked Caroline to gather information about liars, and all she gave me was this thing about eyes.” I shrugged. “My gut does fine as it is. I don’t need anything else.” I rubbed my belly. It was a prized possession, being able to tell who was telling the truth and who was lying.

  “I mean, what kind of person lies about whose visiting them, especially when they’re clearly seen arriving by the carload.”

  I nodded to her. “I want to go back and see tonight,” I said. “But—”

  “Oh, there’s a but?” Betsy raised her brows. “Not like you.”

  Not at all. I liked to get everything done as soon as I could. “Next time she hosts one of her divorcee cult meets. We’re going to be waiting,” I said.

  “In the bushes?”

  “No, in her back garden,” I said. “I noticed it was wide open earlier. It almost invited me right inside.”

  She gasped. “Well, obviously that’s better than knocking.”

  “Element of surprise,” I said.

  I didn’t quite take into consideration how long I’d have to wait before I could spring into action. Arthur had been roped into watching the house, mostly after a little light ignoring for turning his back when only Betsy came to my rescue. He would have been watching the street anyway. It wasn’t like he’d have to do anything out of the ordinary.

  Friday night. A week later. My phone rang wildly as I sat down to eat my mashed potatoes and pork chop, both smothered in a helping of applesauce.

  “Hello?” I answered the phone in a huff.

  “It’s Arthur,” he answered quietly. “There’s three cars and about nine people going into Mona’s house. I think she might be recruiting.”

  “Recruiting?” I gasped. Of course, once you had an established operation, you needed to get more people involved in it. “Let me get Betsy,” I said before hanging up the phone.

  I placed the plate, minus utensils in the microwave to save for later. Now was my chance to get to the bottom of Mona and her erratic behaviour. It was almost like she ran a—I shook the thought from my mind. I couldn’t be clouding up the imagery I’d already painted. Mona was a cult leader—there was no denying she had the stern brick-like face for a role as a commander.

  “I heard,” Betsy said, gasping as she barged in through the back door. “They’re at it again!” She held up two black beanie hats. “I found these earlier too. Good timing.”

  “What does Billy have to say about all this?”

  She scoffed. “He’s napping. I’m not even going to tell him, not until we find out and everyone thanks us.”

  We both dressed in dark clothing and squeezed our heads into the beanie hats. It was fairly dark outside, especially compared to the little street lighting we had. We blended right into the darkness.

  Mona’s gate leading to her backdoor was ajar, and upon closer inspection, swinging on a hinge; even if someone had attempted to duct tape it shut. I made a mental note of how much of an eyesore it would look in the daytime, a definite point reducer if the garden committee came around for a surprise inspection.

  As suspected, Mona’s back garden was clean. She had her recycling bins and her waste bins all lined up neatly beside the back door. I couldn’t fault her on that. It was much brighter now. The bright white beam from the kitchen shone over part of the garden. And just as we could see inside, they could see out.

  “Stay low,” I said, on my hands and knees.

  “Delia, this isn’t good for my arthritis.”

  It wasn’t good for either of us. We stopped to catch our breath and seek a hiding spot behind the wall.

  “Is this your first time?” a female voice asked. “We’ve been coming here for weeks now. Mona’s truly changed my life. In fact, she’s changed everything for me.”

  “Yeah,” another female said. “I’m a little nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before. Super weird about the carpool situation though.”

  “Trying to keep it on the downlow.”

  Another woman joined them, howling in laughter, the type that caused my eyes to squint sharply and my teeth to clench. “Mona is an actual angel,” she said, clapping her hands between each word. “And if she wasn’t divorced, I’m sure none of us would even be here.”

  “She’s divorced?” a meak voice asked. In my mind, I pieced it as to belonging to the second female.

  “Yeah. It’s what makes her know how we feel and what we need.”

  Betsy tapped my arm. “I think you’re right,” she whispered. “This might be dangerous.”

  “All the more reason to stop it before they can even start,” I said. “That girl sounds like she’s in way over her head.”

  She nodded. “I don’t even have anything for protection.”

  “On a count of three, we go inside,” I said.

  “Oh, goodness, no,” she said. “You’ll have to give me at least a count of ten.”

  We went from ten, and upon reaching zero. We were both standing and ready to enter. I was first at the door, pulling down the handle. Two women stood in watch. Thud. It collided with a lock. I pulled the handle up and down a couple more times, only to be met with the same lock.

  One of the women chuckled. “How did you get locked out there?” she asked, turned the key in the hole. “Come back inside.”

  Bingo. We’d made it.

  And we were out of place. Surrounded by women in their early thirties as they stood around sipping wine and eating cheese and crackers from wooden boards.

  “What is this?” I asked aloud.

  “It’s a Sinsation party,” the woman who’d opened the back door answered.

  “Beg your pardon,” Betsy said, clutching at her chest and pulling away her beanie hat. “Is this for per—”

  “Delia? Betsy?” Mona’s voice and demeanour changed drastically as she marched in our direction. “I can’t believe you’re breaking and entering. Oh, how I’m going to have you both—”

  A familiar face stood at Mona’s side. She was tall and blond, with the type of smile that made you think of a school teacher. In fact, I’m sure she was.

  Squinting and squeezing at my sight. I figured her out. “Penny?” I asked.

  “Who?” Betsy said, her eyes taken in with everything out in clear packaging. “Penny Fletcher?”

  She nodded.

  “Does Fin know you’re here?” I asked, looking around. “I bet he never thought your marriage was on the rocks.”

  She blushed. “It’s not,” she squeaked. “He likes to have things spiced up every once in a while.”

  “Okay, okay,” Mona said. “You’ve had your five minutes of fun, now get out before I call the police.”

  “I didn’t think you were the type to throw people out,” Penny said. “I mean, we’re all women.”

  She offered us seats in her living room, it stilled in how out of place we both were. As women flocked around items, screaming their shallow lungs out about lace underwear, we just sat with fruit juice.

  I felt foolish for thinking Mona was running a cult, even if the women inside the room displayed cultish behaviours. They sought after Mona’s advice and wanted one of each, in every different colour—even those belonging outside of the realms of clothing.

  “There you have it,” Mona said quietly, addressing Betsy and I. “I’m selling products for Sinsation. It’s not glamorous, but it pays the bills. After all those books and films that came out, the market has been crazy. I felt dirty for weeks after starting, but it’s a business at the end of the day. I’m sorry I wasn’t clear with you at the start. I can’t imagine what you must have been thinking.”

  “Oh?” I chuckled. “Let me tell you. I thought you were running a cult.”

  Mona glanced behind herself and shrugged. “Some of these women have been visiting for months now. I used to see people individually, but then I did these parties, and I found out I could make six times as much money.”

  “Huh,” I said, leaning back into the sofa. “Well, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.”

  A knock came at the door. Moments later and Fin walked inside. Cat calls began as the women spotted him, then the blushing as he spotted us. We laughed in the moment, but I wondered how much he knew when Betsy and I were hellbent on getting to know what was going on behind the front door.

  Penny hurried to her husband, planting a kiss on his cheek and popping her leg. A bag rattled on her arm as she pulled it to his eyelevel. “Goodies,” she said. His eyes lit up like baubles on a Christmas tree.

  “I guess you’re doing a public service,” I said to Mona after Fin and Penny left. “It’s the first time I’ve seen him happy—or shocked, and not from something I’ve said or done.”

  She nodded, smiling back. “And if you both want anything, please feel free to—”

  “Oh, no thank you,” I said, waving a hand in front of my eyes.

  Betsy knocked her leg against mine. “In fact, we should both be leaving,” she said. “Now that we know you’re not Satanists sacrificing anyone. We can put this to bed.”

  Mona’s face truly changed when she was laughing and smiling, instead of the constant frown her face had grown accustomed to. “Next time, I’ll send you an invite. Are you on Facebook?”

  We laughed. I didn’t even own a computer, let alone know what a Facebook was.

  The End

  Are you ready for another Delia Darling mystery?

  What will she uncover seeing a neighbour act recklessly?

  THE ATROCIOUS AGATHA BELL

  A Delia Darling Mystery

  JESSICA LANCASTER

  THE ATROCIOUS AGATHA BELL

  When a small space between two wooden planks shows Delia Darling just what’s happening next door at Agatha Bell’s house, she can’t quite believe her eyes.

 

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