Murder Most Mysterious, a Glenda At Large Mystery

By Gayle Wigglesworth

Glenda Wheatley a sixty-two year old, bottle blonde, outgoing and slightly plumb woman manages complicated system conversions for medium sized businesses which aren’t big enough to have qualified staff of their own tucked away for when they are needed. Glenda has built this service into a successful business and has found a niche which has supported her and her eighteen employees more than adequately over the past twenty years. However the pressure from managing multiple projects while also being the star witness at the sensational trial of a murder she witnessed has proven to be too much for her. When the trial is finally over she just wants to get out of Houston. She decides it’s time to retire and enjoy life. She sells her business and her house, she puts her belongings in storage and takes off in her car to explore this big nation she lives in, but has never seen. When she tires of the nomad life, she then plans to decide where she will put down roots for the rest of her retirement life.

Murder Most Mysterious, the first Glenda at Large Mystery starts when Glenda arrives in Perch Cove, Oregon to house sit for the Gilberts. They are retired and living on the Central Oregon Coast in a beautiful house they built over the sand. They want to visit their daughter and her family who are living in Greece, but they feel six months is too long to leave their house vulnerable and all their cherished belonging exposed. They need a reliable house sitter.

It is a match made in heaven. Glenda agrees to alter her list of places to visit for the chance to live in Oregon, rent free, for six months. The house and the location are ideal. Glenda is very happy with the arrangement except for two things. The first is the worrisome murder which occurred on the fishing pier the first morning she is in town. The second is her aging neighbor, a psychic named Zylda, who is convinced Glenda has been sent by Zylda’s Spirit Guides to take over Zylda’s practice after Zylda passes.

Glenda would have moved on that first day if it wasn’t for her promise guard the Gilberts property.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gayle Wigglesworth
• Release date: Sep 22, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466081178

Gayle Wigglesworth

Gayle has always been torn between her skills at organization and management and the creative arts. As a young woman she moved to San Francisco on what she considered her life’s adventure. And while she took a job in the banking community to support herself, she really wanted to write mystery novels. Unfortunately, while living alone in a “big” city and typing her novel in the late hours of the night, she frightened herself with her plot line and had to pack it away. In fact, she no longer would even read her beloved mysteries; it was way too scary. So instead of writing she concentrated all her energies on her career, eventually rising to the level of a Senior Vice President. She continued to pursue her creative side by continuing art courses and she became an accomplished potter producing unique pottery, both on the wheel and by hand. Eventually, the children grown and living on their own, Gayle returned to her mysteries and to her writing. Gayle lived her whole life in California so when her company was sold and she found herself in the latter years looking for a job it was a shock to realize she may have to relocate. She accepted a position in Houston, but her husband assured her they would regard it as a “foreign assignment” and they could move back to the San Francisco Bay Area when she was ready to retire. Little did they know that they would love Houston Texas where they now live. However, with all their family and friends back it California it was difficult to continue the traditional family get-togethers they habitually hosted. Her children whined, “Who’s gonna cook?” and called at all times of the day and night for recipes and instructions, which inspired Gayle to write “the book.” Gayle’s Legacy, Recipes, Hints and Stories Culled from a Lifelong Relationship with Food makes it possible for the traditions to continue, albeit, with other people now hosting the meals. This cookbook is more than a collection of recipes, it’s a “how to” book. This book, including detailed steps for creating the family’s favorite recipes while entertainingly telling family history through the vignettes and photographs, was published in 2003. When the company Gayle worked with in Texas was sold, she decided there was a message to her in that. Instead of taking another position she elected to retire early and concentrate on her writing. She was determined to write and publish a mystery. Because Gayle and her husband love to travel and have done so extensively, she followed the advice of the experts, “write what you know.” Gayle developed a concept for a mystery series where the protagonist, Claire Gulliver, a librarian-turned-travel-bookshop-owner is a nice person who, somehow while traveling, becomes embroiled in situations that are not nice; in fact, sometimes these situations are downright terrifying. Currently five Claire Gulliver Mysteries have been published. Gayle is currently finishing the sixth which is due out at the end of 2010. Meanwhile she finished a stand a long mystery, Mud to Ashes, which was published in 2009. She is working on another series, called Glenda at Large. Gayle spends her time writing, potting, reading, traveling and cooking. You can see her at many of the mystery book conferences promoting her mysteries, occasionally she will conduct a cooking class to promote her cookbook, conduct a workshop to help people learn to write their own family history/cookbook and once in a while she will do some contract consulting in the banking world. She is a member of Sisters in Crime and Mystery Writers of America.

Book preview

Murder

Most

Mysterious

A Glenda at Large Mystery

Gayle Wigglesworth

Copyright 2011 Gayle Wigglesworth

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition License Notes:

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyright © 2011 by Gayle Wigglesworth

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without prior written permission from Gayle Wigglesworth, except for the inclusion of quotation in a review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or person, living or dead, is coincidental.

ISBN Paperback: 978-0-9825519-9-8

ISBN E-Book: 978-0-9825519-8-1

Published by

Gayle Wigglesworth

Houston, Texas

Web site: www.gaylewigglesworth.com

This book is available in print at most online retailers

Books by Gayle Wigglesworth

Gayle’s Legacy

Recipes, Hints and Stories Culled from

a Lifelong Relationship with Food

The Claire Gulliver Mysteries

Tea is for Terror

Washington Weirdos

Intrigue in Italics

Cruisin’ for a Bruisin’

Malice in Mexico

Carnage Goes Coastal

Mud to Ashes, a Pottery Mystery

Glenda at Large Mysteries

I Love a Parade, Short Story

Murder Most Mysterious

Gayle’s Tales

Light Romantic Tales to Make you Smile

Readers’ Comments

The Claire Gulliver Series

Beverly L: I love Claire

"I do not normally write fan letters, but I have become totally besotted with Claire and all the people around her.

…Thank you for creating such delightful characters."

Stewart C: Just Finished Carnage

A great read. Your best, so far. It would make a great movie. If you get someone to write the screen play, I would like to audition for the part of Rizzor.

Mud to Ashes

Linda W, from Wales, U.K: Mud to Ashes

"I have been waiting for your new book about Claire Gulliver. But until it arrives on British Kindle, which it doesn’t seem to have yet! I went for Mud to Ashes.

What a great read, I really did enjoy it. Your story line, characters, and wow! What a murderer! But best of all for me was Captain, because our dog is a Cairn Terrier. You do know your dog breeds. (Loved Rudy too, tho’). Hope you are taking these characters further because, they are really interesting. I will look forward to book 2.

Su Co, from Boston: Mud to Ashes

…Her characters (the good guys, that is) fill my requirement that they be the kind of people I would like to hang out with. Her main character, Karo Meisner, is easy to identify with as she is a divorced woman trying to make a new life for herself and has an adult daughter who lives far away… I have never tried making pottery but the descriptions of the process are intriguing. Her descriptions, from home to work to beach to dogs to food, bring a satisfying depth to the story…

Dedication

I have two long-time friends who did just what Glenda does in this book. They sold their houses, put their household goods in storage and took off to see the world before settling down to retirement. These two women have never met each other, but each reached this point in her life at approximately the same time.

This book is dedicated to their bravery. Glenda and Sherrill, thanks for sharing your stories with me. I admire your guts and your fortitude. You go girls!

Author’s Comments

Glenda, my heroine, is based on a real person, a friend of mine for more than 35 years. She actually worked for me at various banks three or four times and our friendship has lasted through that. When she left banking to start her own business we still remained friends, and I was amazed and impressed with how successful she was with her business. She always loved to travel, so in a way I could understand when she decided to sell her business and travel for a few years before deciding where to settle for retirement. She’s the kind of traveler who makes friends wherever she goes, and these new friends, as well as all her existing friends and her relatives, love to have her come by for a visit whenever she can.

When I wrote I Love A Parade, for the anthology called Dead and Breakfast, published by LL Dreamspell for The Final Twist, Houston’s Chapter of Sisters in Crime, in 2007, I thought Glenda was the perfect heroine. Although the real Glenda has never to my knowledge been embroiled in murder or any other crime, in my imagination it seems so real. I realized as soon as I finished that story I would have to write more about Glenda, someday.

Well, someday is now. Murder Most Mysterious is the first in my Glenda At Large Mysteries. New series are always more difficult to write then a new book in an existing series. In a new series all the main characters have to be established and introduced to the readers. I have to learn how they think, how they act, and what motivates them. And once I write it, the characters have to live with what I described through all the subsequent stories in the series. More importantly, I have to remember all the details for as long as the books exist. And remember, although Glenda is a real person, the situations, the events and her reaction are only real in my imagination.

As I have done in previous books, I have set this book in a mythical town on the Central Oregon Coast. I do this for convenience. If I need a doctor’s office for a scene in a mythical town, I just write it in without a qualm. I don’t have to search for one as I would in a real town. Don’t worry, I keep a map of Perch Cove that I update as I go along and soon the mythical town becomes so real I can just picture it in my head. No matter how many times I have traversed that beautiful coastal area, and how many towns I’ve visited, I did not find the equal to my Perch Cove. However, you will most likely find towns similar in that area. Don’t plan breakfast at Bill’s Place as you’re liable to end up hungry. However, the sand dunes, the lighthouse, the towns of Newport, Nye and Florence are all situated just where they’re described in the book.

I would like to publicly acknowledge my readers, Marty and Nadira Lorin, Penny Shepherd, Janet Hancock, and my husband Dave, who waded through that first draft and fearlessly shared their thoughts. And a special thanks to my childhood friend, Margaret Ann Kilmartin, who now in adulthood is Peggy Skutt, my Facebook friend, for her suggestion that saved Zylda from obscurity. All their help and attention to detail have only made this a better book. And if I missed something, it can only be blamed on me, because I have been known to become so wrapped up in telling my stories I sometimes forget my grammar. But I keep trying to be perfect.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter One

The fog was denser at the water’s edge than she had thought. Glenda could only see about six feet before the swirling mist enveloped and then obliterated everything else. Even the sound of the waves, which had serenaded her through the night, was muffled. Now she was regretting her impulse to walk on the sand, but she realized she couldn’t just turn around and go back because she could no longer see the house.

This morning, when she woke up ravenous, she was only driven by the thought of food and cups and cups of hot fragrant coffee at that little café she passed driving up to the house last night. It was very close. Her decision to walk on the beach was only because it was there and she could.

She shivered in the cool air, pulling her light jacket tight around her as she hurried along the shoreline, suddenly spooked by her isolation on the beach. She knew she must be close to the café, and she knew she’d soon run into the pier that jutted out into the surf beside it, but somehow that wasn’t comforting right now.

When the dark form first appeared she thought it was a pile of rocks, but when she drew closer it moved. She froze, clamping her lips tightly to stifle a cry of surprise.

I’ve been waiting for you. The voice was husky and the words were slightly muffled.

For me? She unconsciously stepped back while peering closely. I’m sorry, do I know you?

Perhaps not, but I know of you. I’ve been waiting. Last night, at last, they told me you had arrived. She nodded, a hint of a smile appearing on her lips. We don’t have much time, you know. I came down to meet you. There is so much to do. We need to get started.

Glenda felt ghostly fingers of chill run up her spine and she couldn’t prevent a shiver brought on by the strange words. Bravely she said, I’m sorry, I don’t understand. I think you may have mistaken me for someone else.

The woman shook her head vehemently. It’s no mistake. They said you were coming, so I’ve been waiting. She moved closer and now Glenda could see her face was a mass of tiny wrinkles and drooping skin. Her eyes, while alert, were sad, as if she had seen too much of life. Her shoulders were stooped, perhaps from the weight of her years. Now it was easy to see why she seemed such a strange shape when she first appeared in the fog. She was wearing a full, long skirt of some dark, shiny material, topped with the heavy shawl she had drawn tightly around her shoulders and clutched close to her breast. Her head was wrapped in a scarf, turban-style, that made her appear as if as if she was dressed in costume.

I am Zylda, she announced with pride, drawing herself up straight to some semblance of her original height. I live over there, not far. She gestured vaguely into the fog. Come and we can talk over tea, she said imperiously, turning away, expecting to be followed.

Zylda? Suddenly she remembered the sign lighting up the front of one of the houses she passed last night. It was a little blue house adorned with a large sign with flashing lights proclaiming Zylda’s services. She noticed it initially because of the strange spelling of the name.

So this was Zylda. She relaxed now as she realized she was talking to a neighbor. Still not willing to be diverted from her plan for breakfast, she shook her head. No, no, I’m on my way to breakfast. Thank you anyway. Perhaps later…

Zylda turned back. Later? You will come after your breakfast?

Glenda paused, loath to commit herself. Well no, not then either. I have things to do. Perhaps this afternoon I’ll stop by for a visit.

Zylda stared at her as if she was trying to read her mind. But you will come. You promise?

Glenda was already regretting her offer to visit, suspecting Zylda might be a little loony. She told herself it would be better not to be too quick to get involved with her. But Zylda stood there stubbornly, waiting for her promise, so she reluctantly nodded her agreement. I promise. I saw your place as I drove in last night so I know where you are. I’ll stop by this afternoon. Later.

Zylda nodded. It’s important. I’ve been waiting for you. We need to talk. Her voice projected a sense of urgency as she melted back into the fog, seeming to realize the promise was all she would get.

Glenda stood there alone, wondering if this strange conversation had been real or had it just been a dream?

She turned again to follow along the water’s edge. The fog was really confusing her, but the rumbling in her stomach was real and her hunger drove her on. Sure enough the next dark form appearing through the fog was one of a series of pillars supporting the fishing pier. She turned left to follow it to the wooden staircase and then up the stairs to the street.

Here the fog was lighter. She could dimly see the buildings lining the other side of the street and the lights from the few cars swishing eerily down the street. She stood beside the wooden deck that stretched along the side of the café. The outside tables were empty and the umbrellas were folded up tight, but the yellow light shining from the windows beamed a warm welcome to her.

Bill’s Place was weather-beaten and small, but when she pushed her way through the door, she found it full of people and good smells. The tables in front and the booths along the side wall of windows were all occupied even though it was still early morning. The counter was busy, but she could see three empty stools scattered along its length. She didn’t waste time. She just claimed the closest stool and grabbed the menu tucked in amongst the catsup and hot sauce bottles.

Coffee? The burly man held the coffee pot at the ready.

She nodded, smiling. Are you Bill?

Yeah, that’s me. Welcome to Bill’s Place. He filled the cup he placed on the counter, then, with his free hand, he reached underneath and scooped up a handful of cream and sugar packets and slapped them down on the counter. You staying at the Inn? Don’t recall seeing you here before.

Moved into the Gilberts’ place last night. I’ll be here until they get back. My name is Glenda, and I’m sure I’ll be in here often. She held her hand out while Bill transferred the coffee pot to his left hand and grasped hers. She was amused to see him fill the cups of the two men sitting next to her while he shook her hand.

Welcome to our little bit of heaven here on the Oregon Coast. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. I’m recommending the Surf ’s Up Omelet, it’s our special today. His head nodded toward the Specials Board on the wall behind him.

Okay, sounds good.

He nodded and headed for the grill, manned by a cook wrapped in a voluminous white apron and a tall chef ’s hat. It was a small space, but it seemed to be efficiently laid out judging by the way plates were filled and lined up for delivery.

Bill filled each coffee cup along the counter on his way to deliver her order and checked out all the plates waiting to be picked up.

Glenda took a big swallow of coffee and judged it excellent. She took another mouthful before setting the cup back on the counter just in time for one of the waitresses to fill it up as she passed on her way to pick up an order. Glenda smiled her pleasure. She had found this café practically next door to the house she would be living in for the next six months. She already knew it was great as they took their coffee seriously, which could only mean the food was going to be good.

She studied Bill working the cash register as well as the counter while she sipped her coffee. He had hair, which at his age wasn’t always the case. However he cut his close, almost a buzz cut, and no telling what color it had been, but now it was gray. She tagged him as ex-military for the hair style alone. His muscled arms, framed by the rolled up sleeves of his spotless white tee shirt, sported an elaborate tattoo of the American eagle on his forearm, which pretty much proved she was right about his past. He was medium sized, probably just short of six feet, and solid, not overweight, but certainly not thin. And his blue eyes were a shocking bright blue set in a craggy face that looked as if it had seen a lot of sun. He seemed to know everyone in the place so he had probably been here quite awhile.

Bill was working with the cook at the grill now, so she turned her attention to the people in the booths behind her, who were reflected in the mirrored wall in front of her. She was curious about them, realizing some might end up being her friends and some she would be interacting with over the next six months. She initially couldn’t believe her good fortune when one of her friends told her about their friends who had retired to a little town on the Oregon coast and now wanted to spend six months with their daughter’s family in Greece. They needed a house sitter. It sounded like a perfect opportunity for her, and it had only gotten better after several conversations with the Gilberts and the photographs they emailed her arrived. The house, the town and Oregon seemed to be a perfect destination for Glenda to visit.

Her decision to go directly to Oregon and postpone her visit to the San Francisco Bay area and her son’s family was liberating. It made her feel free. After all those years of careful planning and sticking to schedules, it was wonderful to just take things as they came. Now she would have six months of free rent while exploring life on the Oregon coast. And while she had the money to travel for two or three years before settling down in retirement, six months of free rent was a welcome opportunity to save money for other things.

Her musings were interrupted when Bill placed a huge platter on the counter in front of her. She dug right in until her initial hunger was appeased and she could slow down and enjoy the food. She savored the sweet Dungeness crab wrapped in spinach and mushrooms stuffed inside the omelet. It was excellent.

Nine months ago, at this time of the morning she would have been on the freeway heading for some business meeting in Houston. She definitely wasn’t sorry she decided to retire early and subsequently sold her business. She had enough of that pressure, the constant challenge to bring in the projects she managed according to the plan she developed with her clients and then managed to completion, no matter what inevitably happened to disrupt the careful plans that had been made. In all the projects she had participated in during her career, there wasn’t even a handful that didn’t have something that completely disrupted the plan that had been set. It was all a matter of adjusting as you go.

After the sale of her business, she packed up and stored her things, put her house in the hands of a realtor friend, and headed out on the first leg of her mission to explore this vast country she had always longed to see. Unfortunately, she only got as far as the Texas Hill Country when her car failed her. That threw her plans to the wind before she even got out of Texas, but in retrospect it was good for her. For too many years she had been driven by deadlines and plans that ruled her life. At last she could be flexible. She vowed to take things as they came, and while that delay meant she skipped a few stops, she was still able to visit most of the people she had promised to see and arrived at the house on the sand in California only a few days late. And while she enjoyed those weeks on the Southern California beach, she was excited at the opportunity to spend the rest of the year on the northern beaches in Oregon. Meanwhile, she was already adding to her list of places to visit.

That was one of the problems she was finding with her plan. There was so much to see and do. The journal she was keeping on her computer was in danger of becoming a tome. She loved the little visits she was making to all the friends and relatives she had promised to visit during the past years, but to date she had never managed to find time to do. She was finding it delightful to catch up with them and their lives. And she planned to see everything she could on the coast of Oregon while she was here. She already knew she loved the beach and while her first venture on the sand this morning had been a little strange, she was sure she would quickly learn her way around. In fact, she had arrived last night much later than she expected because there were just too many tempting stops on the way up the coast. So today she planned to get sorted out and settled into her new home. And she remembered she had better add a visit to her neighbor, Zylda, to her list of things to do today. She paused, thinking. Well, maybe not. Maybe she’d just conveniently forget about visiting Zylda.

The diner continued to be busy while she drank coffee and worked her way through the omelet. She knew she should be ashamed of eating the whole thing, but she finished it to the last bite.

Good, uh? the man next to her said.

I’ll say. I can’t believe my good fortune. I’m staying in a house just down the street from here. I think I’ll be eating well for the next few months.

The man nodded. I’m Perry. I’m one of the regulars and I come in here everyday. But if you don’t get here before eight-thirty you’re going to have to wait. On the weekends you sometimes have to wait for forty-five minutes just to get a seat. People come from all over just to start their day with one of Bill’s breakfasts.

Glenda nodded her head. Good thing I’m an early riser. My name is Glenda and I’ll probably see you here again, but I know I can’t do it every day. I’d never fit on one of these stools if I ate like this every day. She patted her generous hip.

The man, Perry, had a nice smile and a twinkle in his eye. He stood up, nodded cordially, and took his check with him to the cash register. He appeared to be in his sixties; what hair he had left was a silvery light brown. He was medium height, and he was slightly rotund. He wore what appeared to be the local uniform, jeans, tee shirt and light-weight jacket, and when he got to the register to pay his bill, he pulled his baseball cap from his pocket and set it firmly on his head.

Glenda finished her coffee before following Perry. While she was waiting for her change, an agitated man pushed rudely past her crying out, Call the police, man. Get an ambulance out here!

The din in the café ceased abruptly while everyone turned their attention to the man at the cash register.

There’s blood all over the place. It’s bad, Man! Then seeing Bill wasn’t moving he yelled in a panicked voice, Get the police! Call a doctor, maybe he can be saved!

Bill reached for the phone. Where? he asked the man.

Out back. On the pier. Near the north corner. Tell them to hurry. The man’s face was pasty looking under the red windburn. He didn’t look good.

Two of the men sitting at the counter stood up and dropped money on the counter, announcing, We’ll go down and check it out. We’ll make sure no one stumbles across the scene unaware.

Bill nodded. Good idea, Norm. The deputy should be here soon, the operator said he was just up the road a piece. I’ll tell him you’re there.

Bill motioned to a man at the stool at the end of the counter while assuring the trembling man in front of him, They’re on their way. Here, better sit down before you fall down.

Bill, without asking, plunked a coffee cup in front of him and filled it with the hot brew. So what’s happened? Can you tell us?

"I was out there fishing, not many around this morning. Guess it’s too foggy for most. The guy was already there when I got there. We nodded at each other as I passed on to the south end. Awhile later I heard