Book 12 of the Amazing Gracie Mystery Series. On sale at kindle, nook and smashwords.com and paper back in regular and large print in Barnes and Noble and Amazon. Synosis Gracie Evans wasn't the only one upset when the Locked Rock, Iowa newspaper editor wanted to compete with big city papers by starting a gossip column. Appearing in the gossip column wasn't the way Locked Rock citizens wanted to find themselves in print. That didn't stop the newspaper from selling more copies, because everyone had to find out if they were in the gossip column each week. Shortly after two women were mentioned in the gossip column they were murdered. Gracie Evans suspects a mouse trap drummer who has been going door to door. He has an eye for pretty young women, but Gracie doesn't have proof that he murdered the women. Who wanted to punish the women mentioned in the column by murdering them? Chapter 1 The time was early spring It was a morning in 1906 right after breakfast at Locked Rock, Iowa's Moser Mansion Rest Home for Women. A squirrel scampered across the yard to the maple tree with one of last year's walnuts in its mouth. In flower beds on the block, yellow daffodils and all colors of tulips shimmered in the slight breeze. As usual, the three Moser Mansion residents were lined up in their rockers on the front porch. Melinda Applegate and Madeline Patterford had slipped into quiet reverie with their chins resting on their chests until Gracie Evans's sudden brassy voiced outburst startled them. The two women flinched as they came out of their stupor, trying to make sense of Gracie's explosion. Gracie crumpled up the latest Wednesday copy of the Locked Rock Review newspaper and slapped it on the lap of her dark brown cotton skirt. She rubbed the long, dark gray braid wound around the top her head with an arthritic forefinger as she groused, “This newspaper's new-fangled notions beat everything I ever seen.” Melinda raised a perturbed eyebrow as she watched Gracie mistreat the newspaper. “Gracie, could you be careful with the Locked Rock Review? I haven't had a chance to read it yet.” Madeline patted her dark French knotted hair back in place as she leaned forward in her rocker to look around Melinda. She stared down her long slender nose at Gracie. “Oh brother! This early in the morning and you're already dissatisfied with something. Melinda's right. Take care not to damage the Locked Rock Review just yet. I want my turn to read the newspaper, too.” “Here, take it.” Gracie grouched as she whipped the wrinkled newspaper out at Melinda. As she grabbed the paper, curly, white-haired Melinda said sweetly, “Thank you. Now, what is wrong with the newspaper this time?” Madeline leaned forward again to listen. “The owner, Roy Madison, is going to let the newspaper put in a gossip column. The editor, George Hightower, has a help wanted ad in there to find a person to write the column,” groused Gracie. Melinda groaned. “That is too bad. Maybe no one will apply for the job. I'm surprised at Mr. Madison. As the owner of the newspaper, you would think he wouldn't want to do such a column in this small-town newspaper. Hopefully, he will change his mind if he hears enough complaints against such a column.” Madeline shook her head. “Oh, brother! That won't happen, Melinda. Moxie Applegate told me when I was at the library last Wednesday she heard the editor has quit the newspaper over a dispute with the owner. He's just waiting for the new editor to arrive from out east before he leaves. I gathered from Moxie that the man tried to stop Mr. Madison from running the gossip column and was ordered to do so or quit. So he quit. A new man is arriving all the way from Boston to take over. Moxie understood Mr. Madison said the new editor can do what he wants with the newspaper. He's giving the man free rein. Mr. Madison is hoping that the man will be able to increase sales with his fresh ideas. That's what Moxie said.” “This is the first I've heard of a shake-up at the newspaper. You sure were quiet about it,” Gracie declared. “Really, I hadn't heard about this either. Is this so, Madeline?” Melinda gasped. Madeline shrugged her shoulders. “Really, and I'll have you know I didn't know there would be anything note-worthy about what happens with the newspaper's staff coming and going. So Gracie you might as well get used to changes in the newspaper and expect more of them to come that we aren't used to reading about. This eastern editor will be doing things the way they're done out east. In that area, the large city newspapers have had gossip columns in them for some time.” “Guess that explains why the editor said the reporter of the gossip column would remain anonymous. In a small town like this, reporting dirt on friends and neighbors could very well get a person tared and feathered some dark night. It must be a whole different situation when the big cities out east do it,” Gracie surmised with a grunt. “Why is it so different?” Melinda asked. “In the large cities, the newspapers can talk about anyone they want. With the population being as large as it is, not as many people know the people getting talked about in the gossip column so it doesn't matter,” Gracie surmised. “Well, I expect it matters to the people who are mentioned in the newspaper,” Melinda declared. “Right,” Madeline added. “What is put in those gossip columns are never anything nice, and usually ruins reputations. There's no undoing what is said in print.” “That's true for sure,” Melinda agreed. “But I wonder what gossip there would be in a gossip column for a small town like this one which would surprise anyone. All we have to do is talk to our friends to find out what is going on with other people in town.” Madeline began her rocker in slow motion. “The newspaper we took in New York had mostly stories about what man was stepping out on his wife with another woman.” “Well, you know what they say?” Gracie rubbed the arm of her rocker as she studied the street down to Main Street. “I'm afraid I'm going to be sorry, but no, Gracie, what do they say?” Melinda asked with her left eyebrow raised. Gracie looked down her nose at the curly, white-haired woman beside her. “If everything is all right in the hen house, men don't have to borrow eggs from the next-door neighbor woman.” “Really, Gracie. I don't think I have ever heard that saying before. What does borrowing eggs from a neighbor have to do with a man cheating on his wife,” Melinda declared. “Melinda, Gracie is trying to say the man didn't go next door to get just eggs from the woman who lived there,” Madeline explained. Melinda's face turned beet red. “Oh? Ohhh!” “Gracie you've been single your whole life. And you are an expert on married men who cheat on their wives how?” Madeline asked. “Just going by what I've seen around here over the years,” Gracie said quietly. Madeline snapped, “Well, I can tell you what I know about a newspaper in the big city. My brother wound up in one of the newspapers in New York. That paper had a very mean gossip column, and my brother was in it.” “Was he running around on his wife or was the gossip column wrong?” Gracie asked. Madeline slowly nodded. “Well yes, my brother was guilty of cheating on his wife, but the awful experience of having the multitude of readers in that newspaper know a shameful thing like that about my brother proved to be an embarrassment to my whole family.” “Oh my! Madeline, I am so sorry to hear that happened to you,” Melinda commiserated. “Gracie must be right. That just goes to show you a gossip column is a bad thing to have in our newspaper.” “Well, that is all past history. My brother said he was sorry for what he did. He made up with his wife after he was exposed in the newspaper and remained faithful after that. I got over it. So did the rest of the family, because we love my brother and his wife and their children,” Madeline shared. “If getting caught made things better in the long run for your brother and his family maybe it wasn't such a bad thing,” Gracie declared. “Thanks to my sister-in-law's forgiving nature, my brother turned out to be a good example. That is if there is such a thing when people's mistakes have been aired in the newspaper. Plenty of families were split apart and their lives ruined by such news leaking out in the gossip column,” Madeline declared. “The subscribers never forget bad rumors they read about someone they know.” “Guess we will have to wait until next week and see if anyone applies for the job,” Gracie said. “Maybe we're worrying for nothing. We may not be the only ones in this town that think Roy Madison has a bad idea. What the readers ought to do is speak up and tell him to forget the gossip column.” For once, Melinda and Madeline nodded agreement with Gracie. “If we hear anyone mention they feel the same way we do, we should tell them to threaten to drop their subscription to the newspaper if a gossip column is put in it,” Madeline decided. “That is a good idea. Gracie, wasn't there any good news in the newspaper?” Melinda asked. “Find out for yourself. It's in your lap,” Gracie said as she leaned back in her rocker. “Fine! Hopefully, I can make heads or tails out of the news if I can make out the words in the crinkled places.” Melinda narrowed her eyes as she scanned passed pages one and two to the third page. “Here is Moxie Applegate's social column. It's always interesting. She says Thad Sawyer and his wife Ivy were in town Saturday to do their shopping. The seed corn salesman has been making his rounds of the farms with corn for farmers to plant. Sunday night was a shivaree at the Cloy Smith home for their daughter, Renee, and her new husband, Roy Hansen. Folks said they had trouble hearing the next day after listening to all the pot banging, but they sure had fun. Mr. and Mrs. Elmer Scancot had supper at the Lyle and Mary Kroy home.” Melinda laid the newspaper down. “Not anything harmful in Moxie's column. That's for sure. It's always nice to read about what other people in the area are doing.” “Depends who you are,” Madeline said, grinning. “From what I heard after church last Sunday when women gathered to visit, there was one person who felt slighted by Thad Sawyer. A neighbor to the Sawyers said usually the couple stop by her house on the way into town to take her sister and her along with them. Or at least get their order for groceries so the Sawyers can stop by with the groceries on their way home. They hadn't done it, and she was miffed, thinking they slipped by her house on purpose so as not to bother with them.” Gracie defended the renter of her Three Oaks farm. “Thad probably was in a hurry to get back to planting corn. He didn't have time to fool around in town waiting for two old women and his wife while they all tried to get their shopping done.” Madeline continued, “Well, Elmer Scancot's sister, Eunice Smith, was telling the Hopwood sisters that Elmer and his wife haven't been to visit with her, their own kin, in months. She saw in the newspaper's social column when they do come to town they spend an evening with the Kroys. Listening to them complain tells me that even Moxie's social column isn't all that great if people read it and get riled up at others.” Gracie and Melinda didn't have a defense for Moxie so they relaxed back in their rockers and closed their eyes, pretending to nap. After lunch, the Moser women decided to walk to the library uptown. Moxie Applegate had extended the library hours to all day Wednesday since Locked Rock was growing in size and there was more interest in the library. It was a beautiful spring afternoon to be outside. The walk was just a little over a block long and good exercise if Gracie was to believe Madeline. The women waved at people in their buggies as they rolled by and shouted a greeting to people sitting on their front porches. Locked Rock, Iowa was never very busy on a Wednesday, and this afternoon wasn't any different. Saturdays were sale days when crowds showed up in town. The farmers and their wives called Saturday trading day when they came in to trade their excess vegetables, fruit, eggs, and grain for groceries and livestock feed. Men stood in groups in front of the stores. They discussed the weather, commodity prices, and how well their corn crop was doing. When that subject was exhausted, they spun a few tall tales while they waited for their wives. “If the library is as busy as usual this afternoon, we should get some opinions about the gossip column in the newspaper from some of the other women,” Madeline said and got agreeable nods from the other two women. “Remember, Gracie, we're going to tell anyone that complains that they should stop buying the newspaper,” Melinda reminded her. Gracie grouched, “I'll remember.” As they crossed the street, Gracie walked in the middle of the group. Melinda was waving energetically by the time Gracie looked her way. “Who are you waving at?” “Donald Jackson. See, he's waving back,” Melinda said quietly. Gracie humphed. “Business must not be very good if he has the time to stand in the doorway watching people go by.” “The way I got it from Lois Harwood at church Sunday, the dressmaker's business is so good he has hired three dressmakers to help him out,” Madeline informed them. Gracie eyed Madeline. “Is gossip all you do with women after church?” “Those discussions weren't the same type of gossip as the newspaper plans to print,” Madeline defended. “Really, the dressmaking business is that good these days?” Melinda whispered, perking up as she turned toward the store. “We should go over there and look in his shop window to see the latest fashions. You know he changes the clothes in that window with the seasons.” Madeline was all for that. “Let's do it. The winter selection will be put away by now and the new spring fashion on display.” “What do you think, Gracie?” Melinda asked when Gracie didn't offer to walk toward the dress shop. Gracie was studying Madeline again. “It has occurred to me we don't need to read the newspaper for gossip. All we have to do is stand in the same group of women after church that Madeline visits with if we want to know what is going on around here.” “Oh, brother!” Madeline hissed. Melinda groaned. “Gracie, Madeline won't share any news with us at all if you keep aggravating her. How about looking at the latest fashions in the window?” “All right, but can't we go to the library first?” Gracie complained as she studied the pale-faced, beady-eyed man with a walrus mustache leaning against the door facing with his legs crossed at the ankles. “No, we can do that afterward,” Melinda said, all excited about what she'd see in the dress shop window. Madeline sided with Melinda. “This won't take long. Perhaps, there will be an outfit that strikes your fancy, Gracie.” Melinda snickered as Gracie grunted, “That will be the day.” The women liked to tease Gracie for her lack of fashion sense. The elderly, former farmer always stuck with her usual outfits, a tan blouse and a brown full cotton skirt. Her friends knew that about her and liked to point it out to her every time they had a chance. “You have choices, Gracie,” Melinda said sweetly. “You can wait here until we come back, and go on in the library. We'll meet you there, or you can come with us now.” Madeline and Melinda looked both ways to make sure they wouldn't get run over and headed across the street. “I'm coming with you.” With a glum look on her face, Gracie tagged along behind. “Good afternoon, ladies,” the dress shop owner greeted politely in his monotone voice. “Good afternoon, Mr. Jackson,” replied Melinda. Madeline added her greeting and explained, “We wanted to check out the fashions in the window.” “Go right ahead, ladies. I just put the latest spring garments out for display,” Mr. Jackson said as he waved his hand at the window. Gracie shifted until she was behind the other two looking over their shoulders as they stared through the window. “Is that not a pretty dress to wear to church?” Melinda asked with awe in her voice as she stared at a soft, white lawn dress with long sleeves and a full ankle-length skirt. Madeline pointed at the dress next to Melinda's choice. “I'm rather partial to the dark blue one with the slim-fitting skirt. Do you have a favorite, Gracie?” “Nope! Nothing here in my style. Can we go now?” Gracie hissed. “Ladies, I have your sizes on file. Any time you are ready to order a dress of your choosing it can be made in a week's time,” Donald Jackson pitched. “That's fast,” Madeline declared. “I've hired three new dressmakers to help me get garments ready faster,” Mr. Jackson declared. Melinda smiled at the shop owner. “Well, let me think about it, Mr. Jackson.” “I agree. I do have plenty of clothes. I just like the excitement of wearing something no one has seen me in before,” Madeline said. “Can we go now?” Gracie insisted, not daring to look at the store owner as she tugged on Melinda's white blouse sleeve. She was sure he was frowning at her. Probably blaming her for him losing a sale. “Guess we better,” Melinda said with a sigh. “Thanks so much for letting us look and dream,” Madeline declared, smiling at Mr. Jackson. Gracie glanced his direction then before she could turn her back on him, Mr. Jackson's mouth curved into a weak twitch. Gracie assumed that was the best grin he could bring forth at the moment. His pale blue eyes seemed to ice over as he eyed her, giving Gracie an inner shiver like a cold north breeze had struck her. After they were out of hearing as they crossed the street, Gracie said in a hushed voice to the other two, “I don't know how you two can stand to be around that man. He gives me the creeps.” “That is just your opinion, Gracie. He's a nice man and has always been polite to me,” Melinda disputed. “I agree,” Madeline said, siding with Melinda. “Besides, he is always up to date on the fashions from out east. Women in this town appreciate his sense of fashion. We would all look like frumps without him updating our wardrobes. Just ask anyone.” Gracie shrugged her shoulders. “I still say there is something strangely off about a man who prefers to own a business that sells women's unmentionables.” “Oh, brother,” Madeline snapped. “That's just one sideline to having a dress business.” “Right,” Melinda agreed. “We need someone to buy underwear from so it is a good thing that Mr. Jackson sells such things.” “I can't help it. Even the fact that the man has all of our body sizes written down seems creepy to me. I prefer to sew my own unmentionables like I always have,” Gracie hissed as Melinda opened the library door. From behind Melinda and Gracie, Madeline grumbled, “Gracie, you're like a spit in the wind. What you say can easily blow back to splat your face if you don't keep your opinion to yourself.” “Enough you two. Someone might hear you,” hissed Melinda as the entry door hinges creaked when she opened the door. Quickly she turned a smile on as most of the women turned from the shelves of books to see who entered. And this is how the tale of the Locked Rock, Iowa gossip column murders began.