Pausing.

  I found a photo on the wall. Agatha’s family. She didn’t have a large family. One sister and her family, and her dad. Beside Agatha’s sister was a young boy and an even younger girl. The boy downstairs was neither of those people.

  “Betsy,” I called out. “We have to leave.”

  “I’m a little busy,” she shouted back.

  “Doing what?” I asked, entering the living room with the picture in hand.

  The boy stood before Betsy with a knife in hand. He pointed it at me. “Sit down,” he said.

  I edged toward the sofa, sitting beside Betsy. “What did you do?” I grumbled to her.

  “I asked him what time—”

  “I knew you two were suspicious when I met you,” he said. “I can’t believe you came back. It’s like you knew I was here.”

  We did. “Listen,” I began, softly. “Put the knife down.”

  “I knew when I saw she had a coffee with you, whichever one of you is Delia, on her schedule,” he said. “She never does anything that’s not on there already. She plans a week in advance.”

  “You’ve been stealing from your aunt,” I said.

  “She’s not my aunt!” he shouted.

  The front door burst open and in walked Agatha. She dropped her bag and glared at all three of us. “Michael,” a soft whimper came from her lips.

  “Mum,” he said back, dropping the knife on the ground, landing with a clatter.

  Betsy and I glanced at each other. “Mum?” we grumbled.

  “I never thought I’d see you again,” she said in a whimper.

  “Well here I am,” he snapped. “I found out. I found everything.” He dropped to his knees in tears. “You left me.”

  Police sirens whirred outside the building and in burst DC Fletcher.

  The moment seemed to go on forever. Everyone staring at everyone else, nobody knew where to go from there.

  “What’s going on here?” Finley commanded.

  Agatha dropped to her knees, stroking the back of Michael’s head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  I welled up at the touching reunion, clutching Betsy’s hand in mine.

  “Someone?” Finley shouted.

  “Fifteen years ago,” Agatha began in a sob. “I gave Michael up to social services.” She burst out in tears, not holding anything back. “I’ve regretted it every day since.”

  Finley marched me and Betsy out of the house to leave the mother and son together.

  It turned out, she had been looking for him, but once the letters of debt came in, and she questioned whether or not she could afford an investigator, she gave up her search completely. Unfortunately, he was the one who’d put her in debt, revenge for growing up in care, and ultimately the reason she couldn’t afford to find him.

  DC Fletcher took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He glanced in our direction and shook his head. “If I find out either of us had anything to do with this—I—I—”

  I raised my head to listen. “We’ve done nothing but reunite a family,” I said with a smug smile across my face.

  But none of this changed the fact that Agatha was still in debt, and her son could be imprisoned for fraud.

  The End

  Are you ready for another Delia Darling mystery?

  Delia is about to find herself staring down the barrel of a crazed woman’s temper.

  THE VILLAINOUS VERA COOPER

  A Delia Darling Mystery

  JESSICA LANCASTER

  THE VILLAINOUS VERA COOPER

  When the town’s most-hated woman is arrested nobody bats an eye, except for Delia Darling. She doesn’t think Vera Cooper is capable of committing petty theft, but possibly something worse.

  Spotted with blood pouring from her waste bin, Vera has just gone way beyond being under the scrutiny of Delia; however, when she confronts her the blood and any trace of it is gone.

  It doesn’t add up, but with DC Finley Fletcher on holiday, Delia must count on Betsy and Arthur to help, becoming three times as likely to catch Vera in the act, or worse, being part of the act.

  A cozy mystery set in a small English seaside town, featuring an ice cream stand owning amateur female sleuth, her best friend, and her quirky loyal customers.

  THE VILLAINOUS VERA COOPER

  “To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.”

  - Oscar Wilde

  ACT ONE

  No Good Deed

  For the first time in a long time, I slept through the night; I didn’t wake in a panic or stress from my dream. I slept even though light strobed in through my bedroom curtains. Absolutely nothing rouses me. Refreshed and feeling inner peace, I’d decided today was be an amazing day.

  On the floor at the bottom of the stairs was the morning post. I’d always been up to collect it. I collected them and made my way into the kitchen.

  “A postcard,” I said with excitement, placing the letters on the table.

  Now with a large mug of coffee in hand, I returned to the letters at the table, sifting through the junk and the bills, I grabbed the postcard again. It was from Agatha.

  Thank you for all your help, Delia. I’m enjoying spending some time away with my son. I might never have known about it without you coming into my home and digging through my garden.

  See you soon.

  P.S. I won’t make it to the neighbourhood watch meeting.

  After Agatha’s ordeal, I spily the entire truth and what my suspicions were saying. She appreciated that I was so candid with her, and as any good detective knew, you had to be upfront and truthful once all the information was out in the open.

  Tonight’s watch meeting was going to be held at Norma’s house. Her reminder brought it forward in my head. I shuddered, and just when I’d told myself today was going to be great.

  Norma’s house seemed normal on the outside, but once you stepped over the threshold, it was hell. People had their obsessions, their collections, memorabilia. I had Doctor Manhattan, other people collected weird doll heads; the ones without any eyes, other people collected decorative ornaments, like dogs, cats, or that series of couples walking along a promenade with shade umbrellas. Norma didn’t have any of those, no, Norma collected gnomes, garden gnomes to be exact—and those things haunted me, especially since they weren’t in her garden, they were on shelves in her home.

  I sipped a little more coffee, letting my body go through the natural process of shaking out all the demons those garden gnomes brought me.

  Knock. Knock.

  Usually, by this time in the morning, I was dressed. I wrapped my nightgown and tied it in place with the belt.

  “Who is it?” I asked, my hand turning the key in the lock.

  “Arthur.”

  I hadn’t spoken to him in a week. “Oh.”

  He stood with a thin smile on his face. He sighed. “I know, I shouldn’t have run away when Mona came out. But she scares me.”

  “So?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh,” I batted the air with a hand. “That’s old news now. Come in.” All I wanted was an apology, and he handed that over. I stood aside as he walked in through the living room.

  “Just woke up?” he asked.

  “What makes you—”

  “You haven’t opened your curtains yet,” he said, glancing back at me. “And you’re still in your nightgown.”

  I scoffed. “Well, when a lady doesn’t have plans, she stays in her pyjamas for the day.”

  “Except the meeting later,” he said.

  Another reminder. If he brought Norma up in any of this, I’d send him back out on his way.

  “Yoo-hoo!” Betsy called out from the kitchen. “You up?”

  “Yes, yes,” I said, joining her in the kitchen with Arthur on my tail. “I had a lie in. I know, it’s not the end of the world.”

  They chuckled.

  Betsy sat at the table with her pre-made coffee already in hand. “Oo, this from Agatha?” she asked, spinning the postcard around to get a better look.

  “I heard,” he said.

  “Shame you couldn’t have been there,” I said.

  “Well I—”

  “No time to dwell the past now,” I grumbled, warming my hands on the coffee. “Want a cup?”

  He shook his head. “Just had one,” he said, sighing into a seat at the table. “I felt left out of all this. I would have helped. You know I can dig deep.”

  I glanced to Betsy, her wide eyes told me everything I needed to know. “I can’t believe you told him,” I said. “Well, it’s too bad, because soon it’ll be time to tend the gardens and compete. Then I won’t have any time to go around chasing after people because of something I heard or saw.”

  “Unless—” Betsy began.

  “Unless, of course, it’s something to do with gardening itself.”

  The summer months were judging months. Running all the way through July, with the judges announcing the results the first week in August.

  Another knock came at the front door. What a day to have had a lie-in, the same day when I decided to stay indoors and dressed in the most comfortable clothing known to man.

  Tying the belt around my nightgown tighter, I answered the door with a smile, only for it to be turned into a frown at the face looking back at me—Norma, dressed in all black.

  “Delia, darling,” she chuckled. “Get it. Your name and—”

  “I know,” I snapped. “Dressed for a funeral?”

  “No, no, no,” she said with a smile. “I’m just here to tell you I won’t be able to host the meeting tonight.”

  A blessing. I smiled. “Oh, that’s awfully—”

  “I’ve informed the community it will be held tomorrow instead.”

  Not quite the blessing I was hoping for. “So? You have something else to do?” I asked. “Car boot sale with the devil himself?”

  “Sorry.”

  “What’s more important than—”

  “I have to visit the police station to give a statement.”

  Placing a hand to my chest. “Poor thing,” I said. “So, what are you being arrested for?”

  She scoffed, her mouth gaping slightly. “Not me. I witnessed a theft,” she said. “It’s awfully draining, and I won’t be up to hosting the evening.”

  My brow creased, thinking about what she was telling me. She couldn’t host because she had other plans, but it was only the morning and she had well enough time to prepare. The meeting wasn’t for several hours. “Well—”

  “I knew you’d understand,” she said, turning on her foot.

  “Wait,” I said, turning to see Betsy and Arthur stood out of sight beside the door, listening intently. “Who did you see stealing?”

  She sighed deeply, placing a hand on the black lace bodice. “Vera Cooper,” she said, wincing and sticking out her tongue to spit the name away. “She was into Eileen’s, wrapped a bunch of produce inside a newspaper and walked straight back out.”

  Betsy and Arthur gasped from the doorway.

  Eileen’s newsagents kept everyone in supply of essentials, especially for the older people of the community, those who couldn’t travel well over twenty minutes away to the closest chain supermarket. She was a real backbone of the community and had served us well for over a decade.

  “That’s just awful,” I said. “But I guess, Vera has had a wicked temper in the past.”

  “You live closer to her than I do,” she said. “So, make sure to keep your doors locked. But I wouldn’t be surprised if they throw away the key.” She shuddered once again, this time turning completely and walking up the driveway.

  I couldn’t quite believe it. Vera Cooper, the old lady we’d all tell tales about to our children. Don’t be mean or I’ll send you to Vera’s house. When Caroline was little, I’d likened her to the witch from Hansel and Gretel, telling her she’d be eaten if I sent her to live there. It was a great way to get a child to behave, even if David hadn’t liked it.

  “I don’t believe her,” Arthur said.

  I closed the closed, a shiver running through my back.

  “Vera’s a lot of things, but since her husband died, I think she’s mellowed out a bit,” Betsy said.

  I had to agree. I didn’t quite believe what Norma had to say, mainly because it was coming from her and not someone else, but also because the last time I’d seen Vera, she smiled at me—an actual smile.

  As we sat down, we began to talk about the infamous Vera Cooper, the woman at number 15. I wasn’t sure where she got her reputation from, but like they always said, there was no smoke without fire, and the rumours and gossip told about her must have come from some truth.

  “Trust Norma to get her nose all in it,” I said. “Like, did you see her smug face—” I sighed. “—course you didn’t, the two of you were eavesdropping.”

  “More importantly,” Arthur began, “she’s moved the meeting to tomorrow.”

  I shrugged. That wasn’t quite so important. “What matters right now, is that we know what’s going on.”

  Gossip inside the village had quite it’s worth, and if you didn’t have gossip, you didn’t have value, and that was one thing I certainly had—by the bucket load. I was worth a fortune; I knew a lot, it wasn’t all big news, but a lot of little things were equally as great.

  “What do you think she’ll get?” Betsy asked.

  “Vera?” I asked with a nod. “I think she’ll probably get a slap on the wrist. She’s not been arrested before.”

  “Rumour has it—” Arthur began.

  My ears tingled at the sound of the phrase, like it was honey being poured before my eyes. I licked at my lips and squinted slightly, looking straight ahead into nothing but thought. “Go on.”

  “She killed her husband,” he finished.

  Betsy walloped the table with her hand. “Nonsense,” she said. “Her husband left her, then she killed him.”

  “Nooooo,” I droned. “He died. Didn’t she have a funeral for him five or so years ago?”

  We all shrugged, but one thing that was for sure, is that each of us had an idea about Vera, and it wasn’t a pretty picture.

  “You think we should visit her?” I asked, “like, after it’s all been sorted and she’s home?”

  Betsy shook her head. “We’ll hear all about it tomorrow when Norma tells us all the confidential stuff she said during her statement.”

  “She’ll lord it over us for the rest of her life now,” Arthur said.

  I scoffed at the thought. “She can try!” I said. “She’s done one thing. I’ve done much more, much—much more. Maple’s not-so-dead husband, I solved that. Scarlet’s house sale and apparent death, yeah, I solved it. Mona’s extracurricular activities, that was a pinch. And then Agatha’s missing son.” I dusted my hands above the table. “I’m bringing families together. I’m making us a stronger community.”

  “Other than Maple, who is now been sued for fraud, and facing jail time,” Betsy began, “I think we’ve done a fairly good job.”

  I nodded to her. “I think so too.” Glancing at Arthur, I raised my brow at him. “I’m glad some people are around to help—especially when it gets a little rough.”

  He whined in a giant huff. “I already apologised, Delia,” he said. “If you want, I can go to Vera’s house alone and find out what happened.”

  With a stiff upper lip, I shook my head. “It won’t be any use,” I said. “I think she’d be more trusting to another woman.”

  Betsy hummed. “But if the rumours are true, and she chopped her husband up and fed him to her cat, then I’m out.”

  They both laughed at the thought—until something in my stomach turned, perhaps it was the coffee and the lack of food, but something turned, and it didn’t feel quite too pleasant thinking about it. I stood, shaking my entire body out of the funk I was crawling into.

  “Anyone want some porridge oats?” I asked. “I’m not sure I can handle solids with the talk of humans being chopped up.” Repeating my thought again evoked a giant shudder and a slight ticklish cough from the back of my throat.

  “Squeamish?” they teased.

  “On an empty stomach, you bet,” I defended myself.

  It wasn’t only the fact that Norma had been at the front of an investigation, priding herself in giving an official statement, talking about how she was a vital part of something ongoing. I chased the thought away with a heavy shake of my head.

  ACT TWO

  Into The Bloods

  That evening, just after 6 P.M. I decided to venture without Betsy or Arthur. They would both grumble if I told them what it was I was doing without them—but I couldn’t give Norma everything. I had to find out what was going on for myself, and then take the light away from her when it came to hosting tomorrow evening.

  Vera Cooper lived toward the end of the street. Her home was secluded with bushes and trees, both of which were cut with precision, and only ever were they on her land, not infringing on anyone else’s. I liked that about her; she kept to herself and was a real team player when it came to the festivities.

  The sun settled in the sky, casting deep oranges against dark purples. Streetlamps came alive with their dull energy-saving yellow hues. I looked around as I walked, making sure Betsy’s curtains didn’t twitch.

  A car was parked in Vera’s driveway. I assumed it was hers; she must have been in. It meant Norma’s statement can’t have been as damning as she intended it to be. The thought brought a smile to my face.

  I stepped forward.

  Slosh. Slosh.

  The floor was wet. I tapped a foot in the liquid; sticky.

  Dragging my feet back along the floor to remove the liquid, I noticed it was dark. I huffed, now I’d have to scrub my shoes clean.

  If I’d known there would be dirt, I might have picked a pair of wellies and made my way down. But it hadn’t rained today, so it wasn’t wet dirt.

 

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