Running Pass and Death

  Running Pass and Death

  Fleming Investigations Cozy Mysteries #12

  Kobo Edition

  © Patti Larsen 2022

  Find out more about me at

  http://www.pattilarsen.com/

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  Kobo Edition, License Notes

  Kobo 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 person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  Chapter One

  The waiting room’s hushed quiet had me on edge, scent of chemical cleaner and heavy air making me squirm. Or maybe that was the pressure on my bladder the nugget kept shifting just when I thought I had a comfortable position? Crew looked up from the magazine he was pretending to read, blue eyes locking on mine, concern showing. As adorable as it was that he worried, I was getting a little tired of his constant monitoring.

  “I’m fine,” I whispered despite the fact there wasn’t any reason to, the few others waiting while the receptionist behind the desk spoke quietly into the phone hardly reason to keep my voice down. What was it about hospitals and doctor’s offices that always had me lowering my volume?

  He nodded, gaze falling to the swell of my belly where both of my hands had settled, a faint smile pulling at his full mouth, handsome face lighting up as it always did when he looked at me. Well, at the bambino, at least. I shifted again, one hip aching slightly, my need to run to the washroom prodding me, though I wasn’t willing to give in to it just yet, thanks, since I’d already been twice at home and stopped on my waddling way here. My attempt to ease the dull throb in my hip only managed to twinge the spot in my lower back that kept me up last night.

  Anyone who said being pregnant was a cakewalk was asking for a punch in the face. And the next person who told me I was glowing?

  Just test me.

  The fact I still had two months to go before the critter I was creating came out? Horrified me when I let myself think about it. I glanced sideways at the young woman down the row, her own protruding belly softly rounded and graceful only making me grit my teeth in frustration. She made pregnancy look delicate, adorable. My physique leaned toward the ponderously bovine, thank you, with a dash of the pachydermically challenged thrown in for good measure.

  I wasn’t going to make it to December.

  The cupcake shifted around inside me, what felt like a foot or fist pressing into my resting palm. In that instant, all of my complaining went away as I reached for Crew’s hand and settled it over the protruding bump. Just in time, too, because his eyes lit up as MiniFee carried on their wombnastics in a stretching and energetic rollover that had me breathless and thinking of movies about aliens.

  Crew beamed at me, leaning in to kiss my cheek while the pumpkin seed settled again. I smiled in return, the emotional overwash of joy mixed with a healthy dose of anxiety triggering tears and a thickening in my throat. He left his hand where it was despite the sausage’s return to a more sedate state, his touch comforting and a reminder of why I was doing this in the first place.

  He’d been good to his word when he promised me that he was coming home to support me. July, August and September had passed with my husband in our local office, taking over my field work while the rest of the team filled in the gap his return to Reading had left. And while I’d volunteered to retreat from field work for the duration of my pregnancy, I have to admit my days spent researching for the others were weighing on me as much as the kidlet in my tummy.

  Speaking of which, my phone hummed, the text from my bestie, Daisy Bruce, only triggering my emotional state all over again. Thanks for the info on the tax company, she sent. Nelson’s delighted to have leverage against them. It hadn’t been all that hard to uncover some serious allegations against the accountants he’d been considering shifting some of his business to, so her praise felt flat despite the fact she meant it one hundred percent, like always. You’re the best. Hope your ultrasound is awesome! Send pix!

  I sighed as I set my phone on my lap and did my best not to feel bitter. Because Crew’s return had signaled another big change. I’d lost my best friend to the Montpelier office and then to Miami as my very own Daisy was poached utterly and completely by none other than Nelson Delamonte.

  Not that I begrudged her that success. Day deserved to find her happiness, had been through enough, thank you, only to finally be hitting her own stride. I was proud of her, of course, I was. But I was also pregnant and my best friend and sister from another mister wasn’t here.

  My protruding peach wasn’t going to be the only crybaby in the family.

  “Ms. Fleming? Mr. Turner?” I immediately looked up at my name being called, Crew standing and taking my hand, helping me to my feet. Honestly, did every pregnant woman feel this awkward? My center of gravity would never be the same, I was sure of it. I puffed a little as I steadied myself and frowned at the pain that shot down my right leg as my lower back tweaked again but did my best not to show it. I’d learned that complaining made Crew overly protective and I just wasn’t in the mood for him treating me like I might fall apart at any second.

  Even though I worried that might be the case.

  “I’m so sorry,” the receptionist told us as we joined her at the counter, a cute little pumpkin cutout grinning up at me, her pencil holder a waving scarecrow. There were still several weeks to Halloween, but even the staff in this rather serious place made an effort. “The ultrasound technician had a family emergency and had to leave. Dr. Aberstock will make you a new appointment, hopefully in the next few days.”

  “No problem.” Crew turned to me, one hand holding mine, the other at the small of my back. “Ready to go?”

  I nodded, offering a little grimace smile to the woman, allowing my husband to guide me, feeling more and more like a giant cargo ship being nudged by a tugboat and trying not to be cranky about the cancelation. After all, we’d just had a scan due to my age and Dr. Aberstock’s protectiveness. And yes, I admit my grumpy demeanor about being back a week later for another wasn’t solely based on being put out. No, it was the fact that Dr. Aberstock wanted another one so soon that had my mind whispering worries to me about what he’d seen—or not seen—in the previous one that had me disguising terror something was wrong with temper.

  We reached the elevator, Crew tapping the button down, when my phone buzzed and, distracted, I checked it without looking at the number. Only to flinch as I read the nasty words scrawled across my screen.

  Something’s wrong with the baby, my secret tormentor sent. And it’s your fault.

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  Chapter Two

  Most of the time, I did my best not to let the messages get to me. I’d decided to wait out my nasty little friend and not respond. That choice had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done, let me tell you. My redheaded temper hadn’t improved with the onset of pending birth, either, so despite my teeth gritting and deleting of the offensive texts that came every other day or so, I’d convinced myself whoever it was would tire of their activity and eventually quit.

  I might have had a short fuse, but stubborn? No one did stubborn like Fiona Freaking Fleming.

  This was taking the jerk bar really low, though. I mean, you want a piece of me? Come at me, bro. But leave my baby out of it. Still, whoever it was hadn’t taken things past the nasty message stage and, in all honesty, sticks and stones, right? Except a
s I mashed my thumb on the delete icon while protectively shielding my belly with my free hand, I have to admit I was at the breaking point with my plan. If only my attempts to block the anonymous number(s) would finally work already. Either my enemy had access to a lot of burner phones, or they’d found a way around traditional blocking technology. Regardless of the truth, I was going to have to do something more permanent about the messages, it seemed, before the baby came.

  I glanced up as the elevator door opened, Crew guiding me through the doors, guilt warring with the need to vent. No, I hadn’t told him and didn’t plan on it. In fact, I’d intended to tell Daisy, but now that she wasn’t around it felt like I was dealing with the situation alone. Yes, my fault, I got that, without a doubt. But if I thought Crew was protective now… one read of the messages, and he’d lose his mind. Bad enough I’d already relegated myself to desk duty for the foreseeable future. No way was I giving my handsome husband a reason to lock me away from the world until our precious cargo made a permanent appearance.

  Scowling at my phone didn’t help. I’d considered changing my phone number, but that would mean coming up with some kind of excuse to tell Crew and I just didn’t have the energy to deal with it. Besides, maybe something good (or at least useful) could come from the attacks? Yes, I was deleting the messages, but the contacts were being logged, so if I did manage to find tech to track the sender at some point, look the heck out.

  That possibility kept me warm at night.

  Sour mood or not, Crew didn’t seem to notice and as we exited the elevator on the main floor, stepping out into the hospital lobby, the sight of a perky and smiling young woman heading our way had my angst softening enough I accepted the warm hug from Dr. Penny Keene before she gently patted my tummy. She’d asked permission over a month ago and I’d granted it, shocked at how many people thought they had the right to just touch my bump without checking in. Leave it to Penny to make sure she didn’t step out of line, the county’s newest ME beaming as she then turned to hug Crew.

  “Lloyd told me you were here again,” she said, looking back and forth between us. “Everything okay?”

  “Our ultrasound was canceled.” Yup, there was the bitter sullenness I was becoming known for.

  “I’m sorry,” her face immediately fell, triggering my guilt for another reason.

  “It’s fine,” I waved off my previous statement while shifting my weight from one foot to the other, unable to stop my right hand from creeping around behind me to press to the small of my aching back. “Just a precaution, I guess.” Or was it more than that? Dr. Aberstock was taking my request to watch over me and the beebes very seriously, but was another scan really necessary? I needed to stop panicking every time I thought about it. “I hear you took on your first solo case last week.”

  Penny bobbed a nod, dimpled smile returning as her shiny blonde ponytail danced its coordinated response over the white collar of her lab coat. “I guess this means I’m a grown up after all.” Her laugh had a faint trill of nerves to it, but she seemed happy enough. I’d been worried about her and our resident BCI detective. Their relationship had hit a rocky patch in July with the arrival of her former fiancé, Sgt. Kenny Wisner, but she’d since sent him packing and seemed content to carry on dating Rowan Mallory, so hopefully I didn’t have anything to be concerned about. And yes, I was well aware their relationship wasn’t any of my business, but I adored them both and I was hormonal.

  Being pregnant excused a lot of sins.

  “I’ll see you both at the pep rally tomorrow?” Penny eye rolled as I groaned a little. “I can’t believe you don’t love football.”

  I shrugged at the reminder I’d agreed to help my mother support our local high school team. “Boys and balls and violence,” I said, prodding my husband who grinned. “I’ll never understand it.”

  “And beer,” Crew reminded me. “And lots of yelling.”

  Penny laughed. “Maybe it’s for the best you’re not a fan,” she said, eyeing my belly. “The baby might come early if you get too riled up. You’re sure you have two months to go?” She shook her head with another grin, not knowing her words made my stomach plummet and then churn with renewed anxiety. She was a doctor. She’d know if I was too big. Was there something wrong after all? I had to remind myself as I jerked hard on the coattails of my panic that Penny was a medical examiner, that she dealt with the dead, not the morbidly pregnant.

  Except thinking about death only made things worse, didn’t it?

  At least I did a good job hiding my anxiety because neither Crew nor Penny seemed to notice, my friend parting ways with another hug for each of us before my husband led the way to our SUV. He made sure I was as comfortable as I could manage and pinned down with the new specialty seatbelt positioner that he’d brought home a month ago before closing my door and circling to take his own place behind the wheel. I wasn’t useless, thanks, but he seemed to think I was, only reinforcing my decision to keep him in the dark about the texts.

  The drive home turned into a front seat karaoke contest as our favorite song came over the radio and I was smiling as we turned off the highway and into town. Mayor Olivia Walker had gone all-out with the decorating this year, every lamp post hosting lights and spooky creations, the parking meters dressed up as various witches, ghosts and black cats. She’d even had the street in front of town hall painted in sparkly orange with BOO! written through it in black. This time next year I’d have a pumpkin of my own to deck out in a costume and carry door-to-door in the cool, fall evening, an idea that appealed to me greatly.

  Except, as I passed the Happy Halloween! banner that had been strung over Main Street, I caught myself scowling. After all, it wasn’t Olivia who’d enacted the décor, was it? No, it was her newest hire, Karla Jensen. The woman was supposed to be the town’s event planner, but she seemed to be wheedling her way deeper and deeper into the mayor’s good graces. The fact Karla couldn’t stand me? Had her at the top of my crap list and first in line for the identity of the mystery texter. Not that I had proof, but we’d head-butted sufficiently since July I did my best to skirt her and she the same for me.

  Way to ruin my attempt at a good mood with curmudgeonness.

  “Did Olivia mention her plan to hire a chief of police?” Crew interrupted my reverie as we passed the sheriff’s office where both he and I had once been employed as keepers of Reading’s peace. And while my stint as sheriff hadn’t lasted very long, I still felt a certain fondness for the place that had me shrugging.

  “She’s been wanting to send Rowan and the state police packing for a while now,” I said. “But why not just another sheriff?”

  “Image,” Crew said in his deep, warm voice, turning at the end of the street and pulling into our driveway, the foursquare’s front door adorned with a festive haunted wreath, the carved pumpkin he’d deposited on the top step grinning its maniacal welcome at us. “Too many bad memories attached to that title. And a chief can be under her full control. Town council always had the right to revert the sheriff post to being an elected position which I hear they’ve suggested, considering.” I guess I didn’t blame them. “Chiefs don’t have that luxury.”

  I thought about it as he exited the SUV and came to my door. Oh, trust me, I’d have exited on my own recognizance if I thought he’d let me get away with it. But I’d learned in the last few months my husband’s expression would transform from loving adoration and care to hurt and regret if I didn’t allow him the privilege. I really was a lucky woman. Cranky, but lucky.

  “Rowan doesn’t seem all that worried about it,” I said, stepping down as Crew’s strong hands supported me. One of my knees buckled just a bit and I was finally as grateful as I should have been to have him there. He steadied me while I composed myself. “I think he’s sick of cleaning up after us.”

  “You mean, he’s sick of you finding dead people.” Crew laughed at that while I wrinkled my nose at him and leaned into him as he let me find my bal
ance. Whew, I really was kind of winded. Maybe Dr. Aberstock was right to be cautious. How was I going to make it eight more weeks again? “Sorry, Fee. I know it’s not funny.”

  I was used to being the brunt of that particular joke, so it didn’t hurt all that much. “Are you thinking about taking the job?” He’d earned that dig. Crew’s choice to leave the FBI for the Reading sheriff’s badge that led him to abandoning law enforcement for private detection had seen my husband evolve from strait-laced, by the book, intensity to a more relaxed and intuitive professional who loved what he did so much the idea of seeing him in uniform again seemed laughable.

  “I thought you might take it,” he said with a breezy grin. “You’re always in the middle of everything anyway.”

  Smartypants husband. I didn’t get to respond to his attempt at being funny (yeah, Crew, ha ha, honey). Mom popped out the front door of The Iris and waved to us before we made it to the steps, the wriggling form of our pug puppy, Petunia the Fifth, clutched against her chest as she called out.

  “Come get lunch, you two!” She disappeared back inside before we could respond. My stomach growled, ending any debate that might have come up anyway, Crew laughing at the sound even as his echoed mine.

  That made me giggle and lifted the gray pall from inside me. Grinning together, my husband helped me waddle my way down the sidewalk, sun beaming down on us as the scent of fall wafted on the light breeze that seemed to wash my troubles away with a gentle caress.

  Two more months? With Crew at my side, I could manage anything.

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  Chapter Three

  Mom waved us into the kitchen as Crew and I arrived, the bouncing bundle at my feet greeting me with her cinnamon bun tail wiggling and tiny yips of happiness elevating my mood even further. My husband bent and picked Petunia up, since such an act was mostly impossible for me at this point, depositing the vibrating pug into my arms. She immediately snorted in my face before diving in for licks and love, a meowing yawn following. The sound was so familiar I had to catch my breath, that much adored mirrored into the younger version of my previous Petunia still stirring my emotions.