A Bliss Mystery: Not Between Friends

By BD MacDougall

What do you do when a friend ask you for a favor you are totally not qualified to help with? You get in over your head and bring along your best friend in the process. Not between friends is a cozy mystery about trying to unravel a secret and ending up unraveling more than you wanted. Sydney, shop owner of Bliss, gets caught up in a murder of a man she just met, who is not who he appears to do. Trying to help a friend find out if her secret has been exposed, Sydney brings down a host of complications and threats that potentially can not only unravel her life but her friends as well.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BD MacDougall
• Release date: Feb 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310996061

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A Bliss Mystery: Not Between Friends

Published by BD MacDougall at Smashwords

Copyright 2016 BD MacDougall

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CHAPTER 1

Take it, Beth whispers pushing the wine glass into my hand.

What? I say.

Just take it and smile. That friend of Neil's, Wayne I think, gave it to me. He thought I needed a refill, Beth explains.

That is enough explanation for me. I am not exactly sure, but I think I might be the only person in the room who knew Beth didn't drink - alcohol that is. She always brought white grapefruit juice. Poured it into the prettiest coloured wine glass she could find and sipped on it all night. She figured the host would feel bad if she isn't drinking, or if she had nothing for Beth to drink when she arrived. Hence, white grapefruit juice. I've told Beth in the past - no one's care whether or not you drink alcohol and I bet some people would be impressed. But it is still hush-hush Beth says.

Beth Stewart is my best friend. She is the total opposite of what I thought a best friend would be - or at least mine. I'm average. I mean that in every detail. I have brown hair with just enough of a kink to make it bothersome, not windblown or pageboy style. Just uncontrollable. Brown eyes and not those deep chocolate brown eyes you find yourself melting into, but brown as in dirt. Plain old dirt. Along with that, I'm five feet five inches and within what society deems okay for weight requirements. There is nothing, absolutely nothing about me that stands out. And for the majority of my life I have made it a point of fading into the background, both at school and at home. I guess that is why I have always considered myself to be invisible and of course average.

So, I thought if I ever had a best friend she would be like me. Both of us would just blend into the crowd. Talk about books; go for walks, and to the occasional movie, just normal, boring stuff. Beth, on the other hand, is anything but normal or invisible. She blends into a crowd like a bull in a china shop. If you saw her, you would definitely do a double take. She is petite in every sense. She has light brown hair, or what my mother would call dirty blonde, and pale blue eyes. She wears navy retro-glasses (most of the time). The glasses are the style that sweep up at the side, broadening out at the top with a flourish. I think they used to call them kitty-cat glasses. Beth can appear in anything from a pair of red painter pants and a hot pink tank top to a dull mustard coloured corduroy jumper with a pale brown sweater. People are unsure if she is a quiet librarian or a shocking liberal arts critic and these are usually people she has regular dealings with. Since I have known Beth, I have been dragged to art openings, political rallies, readings, coming out parties (and I mean out of anything you could possibly imagine) and lectures ranging from WICCA to environmental issues. She is not your average person, but she is now my best friend.

At that moment we are standing at the entrance to the living room of Carol Mitford and her husband Neil Aadler. I have just come down the hall from Carol's home office where I had been banished directly after coming through the front door about 20 minutes ago.

I have some sweet floral prints in my office that would sell like hotcakes in the shop. I've laid them on the ottoman. Have a look and we’ll discuss them in a day or two. I have all the contact information, Carol had said passing me a glass of white wine and walking off.

Wine glass in hand, I had headed down the hall to the office to check out the prints. Actually, they were pretty and would sell well in the shop. Each print a soft watercolour of an individual flower in an eight by eleven inch white wooden distressed frame. They would look great displayed on the shelves between the clear bottles of bath oil or stacked against the counter or even a mirror. I did notice that Carol called it the shop, not Sydney's shop or even the name of the place. Now don't be petty, I thought, she means well and this could earn you money.

My name is Sydney O'Neil and the shop I am referring to is BLISS. I co-own it with my Aunt Fran. It was a dream of Aunt Fran’s to open BLISS and me, well I guess, I just ended up coming along for the ride. I have to admit it has been a great ride so far.

Did Carol say anything to you about what this informal gathering is about? Beth asks, bringing me back to the present.

No, but all the Y committee members along with Marlene are here so that should be a big hint, I reply sipping my second glass of wine and thinking on an empty stomach this is going down a little too smooth and fast.

Immediate buy-in, Beth says.

Beth and I, along with our hostess Carol and two of the three other women present, all sat on a fundraising committee for the YWCA. The last female is Marlene Dixon the Executive Director at the YWCA. Carol considers herself the idea person. She is also something of a drama queen so I figured this is her way of announcing her newest fundraising idea.

Yes. I'm surprised Annabel's here. I didn't think she is due back from her trip, Beth says.

I glance over at the two women talking by the window. One is tall and slim, dressed in tight black slacks with an even tighter black sleeveless low cut top. Everything about the woman is perfect from her black shiny hair to her expensive black shoes. The only thing ruining the image is the bored expression on her face that she did nothing to hide. This is Annabel Vanhorn. The other woman has her back to me but I knew it is Diane. She has her standard outfit on. Navy slacks and a white blouse with a multi-coloured cardigan. I figure Diane must have been talking about her kids, which is definitely not Annabel's choice of topic. But then again Annabel had that same expression on her face when Beth read the financial statements at the meeting. Annabel's favourite topic is - Annabel.

You're right. I thought she wasn’t due back for another month. She went on and on about finally having the time to ‘do’ Greece right and I don't think she was gone for more than two weeks, I say.

I survey the immaculate area in front of me. It is definitely not to my taste but it is our hostess Carol's. The first time I had been to Carol's and saw the white carpet, white leather sofa and matching white suede chairs, along with the glass coffee table and end tables, I was terrified to move past the mirrored entry way. Carol accessorized in minimalism. No books, pillows, candles, yesterday's newspaper, wet coasters, half eaten bags of chips anywhere in sight. My first time entering the white world I thought this is a disaster about to happen. It's not that I'm a clumsy person but so much white and glass cried out for me to drop, drool, break or even leak over something - well white. But I had managed to get through the initial visit without incident. And from that moment on my drink of choice at Carol's is white wine, please.

But if Carol's decorating is stark and modern, her look isn't. She wore a red and yellow flapper dress, dropped waist, with a beaded hem to the knee. Carol's husband Neil looks more sedate. Just basic dark blue pants with a shade lighter shirt. It is the exact look for a conservative government employee. I wasn’t sure what Neil did for a living only that he worked for the provincial government in some office downtown. I thought he’s an accountant but I am never exactly sure. At that moment he caught my eye and waves me over.

Neil wants us to come over and be social, I say to Beth.

Beth glances over his way and smiles.

I haven't met his friend Wayne. You don't think this is one of Carol's set-ups do you? I whisper.

Hmmm…No I don't think so. Carol made a quick introduction when you were looking at the pictures and then pulled me aside to ask a financial question. He seems to be strictly Neil's friend.

Yeah, you're likely right she hasn't gone out of her way pushing him onto anyone.

Just go make nice. I'm on my way to the washroom, Beth says hurrying down the hall.

Walking across the room I wish Carol would just announce her intentions. Which I had decided on the way over I would not commit to right away - if ever. Then I could get out of here without having to make too much nice to anyone. It had been a long week. No, scratch that, a long month. BLISS is opened late and Carol’s agenda or no agenda I had decided I was not closing up early so I ended up with no supper and rushing over here directly after closing up.

Neil's friend appears around forty. He has sandy hair, receding a bit on top, white teeth in a tanned face. I knew he didn't get that tan here unless from a tanning salon. We were having the wettest spring on record. I can see the heading casual but stylish - the look that will take you anywhere. Plastering a smile on my face I greet the men.

Hello, Sydney, Neil says. Have you met Wayne Greene?

No I haven't had the pleasure yet. Hello Wayne.

Neil continues to smile. He is one of those happy oblivious men who thought women should be taken care of - or at least his wife's women friends. His wife definitely didn't need taking care of. Carol is a human dynamo. She is in Public Relations and for years had worked for one of the top firms in the city. Four years ago, she decided to branch out on her own. According to her, she is so in demand she has to turn down clients.

I had pictured Carol's husband before I met him as tall, handsome, aggressive and arrogant. A lot like Carol. However, Neil is average height; losing the battle with middle-aged spread and one of the easiest going, gentlemen I had ever met. It was four years ago that I had met Carol. We had been on a start-up committee at the YWCA. I first found Carol exhausting. She had too many ideas and too aggressive. Eventually we had come to an understanding that ideas were great but you needed time and volunteers to see them through. Something the Y didn't have, hence the development of the fundraising committee.

So, Neil is telling me how committed Carol, and of course you ladies, are to the Y, Wayne says.

Yes, that's how we all came together, through fundraising for the Y, I say.

Well you know fundraising is great but can only go so far. What you need to do is invest that money and have it grow and work for you, Wayne says.

That sounds great, but the money we raise is ear-marked for the coming year - day care, youth and adult programs.

Yes, but there are now a lot more organizations fundraising and that dollar is harder to come by. I've done some work for other charities. I'll send you some material to look at. I'm not into a hard sell but I really do want to help you gals. Right Neil?

Yes, right....

Making your money work for you is the key. Who do you invest with, Sydney? Wayne asks.

I take a sip of wine wishing for more in the glass and to be sipping it elsewhere. The guy's direct I'll give him that, but a little too pushy for my taste. I decide to try to steer the conversation away from money.

Is your arm okay? I ask. Nodding at Neil's tightly wrapped wrist.

Oh, slight sprain. I slipped in the tub, more embarrassing than anything. I'm becoming accident prone in my old age I guess, Neil says.

You’ll likely just tired. I find I’m clumsy when I don’t get enough sleep, which seems to be a regular occurrence lately.

Not paying attention for me, Neil says. I can’t seem to stay focused.

So Sydney, investments. We should talk about directing some of that hard earned money of yours. Make it work for you, Wayne says.

I sigh. So much for the change in subject. I is too tired to dance around the matter and I is getting a headache from lack of sleep and food.

I don't have that kind of money to invest.

Sydney runs her own business. Doing well I hear, Neil says.

Well, you should definitely be skimming off the top and investing. You have to think of your future. Diversify. What sort of business are you in? Wayne asks.

It's a small shop that sells speciality items from Europe and local sources. We don't have much 'skimming' at the moment we are putting the money back into the business, Wayne.

I have some excellent plans for young entrepreneurs. We should set up a meeting.

Right now I have all I can handle business and investment wise. Maybe at a later date, I say trying to worm out of arranging anything with this person who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

You're not diversifying and that concerns me. You cannot have everything wrapped up in one place. Now Neil here, Wayne turns to smile at his friend. I also turn towards Neil and for the first time since the conversation had started, I notice the frown on his face.

Is something wrong, Neil? Is your wrist bothering you? I ask.

No. No. I just don't think Carol would appreciate all this work talk. You know she likes her parties to be....well not work, Neil says loosening his tie and getting a little red in the face.

This isn't work Neil, this is the future, Wayne says.

Wayne, you're right, diversity is the way to go. However, right now I am not interested in adding anything else to my plate. I'm pretty well stretched to the limit.

I hope you at least have a life insurance policy, Wayne says.

Well...

You're right Sydney, too much on your plate...have to take care of yourself, Neil says totally cutting me off. Not that I thought that is a bad thing but apparently Wayne did.

He frowns at Neil and looks like he is about to start round two. Neil is looking red in the face and starting to look frazzled.

Are you monopolizing Sydney, gentlemen? Carol asks sweeping up to us.

Just suggesting to her what I can do for the cause, that's all, Wayne says.

Really, Carol says dryly. Well, you're going to have to excuse her as I have some things I need to discuss with her.

Carol takes my arm and draws me across the room. Her mouth, a determined straight line, her brow furrow. She continues pulling me across the living room into the stark white kitchen, where I had yet to see a dishcloth, dirty glass or watermark anywhere in sight.

So what is Wayne talking to you about, she demand.

I blink. He talked about earmarking some of our fundraising money to invest. I told him it is all ear-marked for the coming year's programs.

Oh, good, Carol says, her whole body seemed to sag.

Why? What did you think he would be talking to me about?

Nothing. Just that some of Neil's friends go on and on endlessly and I didn't want you to be bored. Heaven forbid you ever leave my home after an event saying you were bored, Carol says filling another wine glass to the top and passing it to me.

He's an investment advisor right?

Yes, I suppose he is. Neil met him at the business club.

Hi, need any help? a pleasant voice says coming through the kitchen door.

Oh, Diane. No we're fine, Carol, answers.

I saw the two of you come in here and thought maybe you might need help serving, cleaning up, you know.

You're too kind, dear, but everything is taken care of. There will be no guests of mine serving or cleaning. Just enjoy, Carol says and leaves the room.

I smile. Diane is in her early forties, had married right after college and promptly had two boys. The youngest is entering university that coming fall. She is what people would consider the model wife. Her husband, Roger, is ten years older than her. He was a newly established young doctor when they met and married. Diane had provided the perfect home for an upcoming young physician. Keeping the meals warm and ready for when he returned home at all hours, the children quiet when he is home and needing to unwind, the hostess who always makes sure the guests are taken care of. Diane put everyone needs before her own and it showed on a tired face that looked older than her 41 year.

Typical Carol party, everything taken care of. I knew when I came in she'd say that. I just wanted to touch base with you, Diane says.

Me? I'm doing fine. Busy but fine. The shop is doing great. Aunt Fran is on a buying trip, again, I roll my eyes.

Diane laughs. I wish I had half that much enthusiasm for life as your Aunt Fran. I can't wait to see what she brings back this time.

Well, you know I can always use help unpacking and stocking the shelves.

Just call me, I would love to come over. It feels like Christmas opening those boxes and seeing the wonderful products. I love that bath bomb she brought back last time. As a matter of fact, I think I'm out so you might see me this week.

Diane's husband Roger pokes his head in the door.

What are you two hiding out in the kitchen for? he asks.

Diane shrugs and we follow Roger back into the living room. She trails behind him over to where Neil, Carol and Marlene are talking. The conversation looks a little too intense for me, so I hang back drinking my wine.

It is a small party by Carol's standards, just nine of us including the host and hostess. The majority of us, all the women, had met through the YWCA. Carol and Diane had met at university and kept in touch on and off during the years. Diane said that Carol had practically dragged her to a committee meeting at the Y saying they needed volunteers and it was her civic duty. I had recruited Beth because we needed someone to help with the books. The only remaining person in the room on our committee is Annabel.

Now she is the unknown. She isn't a friend of Carol, Diane, Beth or mine. She just appeared at a meeting one day. Carol said they met at an event. My problem with Annabel is she is another Carol. She had many ideas but is no help in implementing them. Often Carol and she got into competitions over who would contact individuals or companies for donations. Carol saying she has dealt with them through her PR business and is on a first name basis. Annabel saying isn't that a conflict of interest. The Y benefited over their rivalry so it worked out.

Annabel had a frown on her face again and this time she is talking to Wayne. They were standing in a corner away from where the others were in the conversational area, Carol's words for sofa and chairs. Wayne is in for it if he tries that hard sell on her. I don’t know what Annabel did for a living besides that she liked to travel, shop (at the best stores) and name drop; but I did know that she didn't take too well to anyone offering their opinion of what she should and shouldn't do too freely.

All of a sudden, the room went out of focus. It is spinning. I grab the chair in front of me to steady myself. Hoping no one notices my sudden lunge. God, I only had two glasses of wine - I couldn't be this drunk. Maybe I could. Two full glasses compounded with little sleep for days, and no food in my stomach for over 9 hours. I knew if I let go of the back of the chair I will hit the floor within a second. I concentrate on deep breathing and dropping my shoulders like I learned in yoga, hoping my head will clear, but it doesn’t. In fact, it seems to be getting worse. I think maybe if I can make it to the washroom and sit down for a few minutes it will pass. I start to take my hand off the chair and then quickly grab it again as the room starts to spin at a faster rate.

Are you alright? Beth asks coming directly in front of me and cutting off my view of the rest of the room.

No....

You look really pale. Maybe you should sit down.

Just help me to the washroom, I whisper.

Beth takes my arm, and we slowly walk out of the room and down the hall. As soon as I think no one can see me I place my free hand against the wall to steady myself.

I can't believe this. I feel awful, and it isn't like I've been drinking - two glasses of wine! We have that at home!

"You could be over-tired. You have been working non-stop at BLISS. First with the anniversary party and since Fran's been out of town you're doing double duty, plus taking