Gracie Greene Mystery Box Set

by Jack Parker

  Clay was there with Clarissa, and Bill offered his condolences to the family, telling them he'd be pleased to help them in any way he could. Justin (without Zack for once) sat apart from the group and fidgeted until his mother insisted he join them, telling him he had as much right to help make these decisions as anyone else. That seemed to please him.

  Susan and Jim had come over from across the street, and even George next door had joined them. There was no loud music for him to complain about today. He managed an excuse to look inside the house; he would never have said it to them, but he was hoping to get the commission to sell the house. Always, of course, assuming that it would be sold, but he suspected that would be the case.

  Jeanine breezed in wearing her work clothes, loudly proclaiming she couldn't stay all afternoon. She'd swapped shifts with someone and had to go in at 3:00. She made a big show of hugging all her cousins and telling them what a horrible time this must be for them. She seemed to have realized she should at least try to act like she was grieving.

  The mood was somber, as they were discussing the funeral plans, which was scheduled for 10:00 on Wednesday morning. Clarissa told them that Charles' body was at the funeral home, and they needed to make a final decision about the casket so the body could be readied for viewing.

  "Charles never said much about what kind of funeral he wanted," Clarissa said. "Like most most of us, I suspect he thought there was plenty of time to think about that kind of thing later."

  Most of her audience simply nodded in agreement, though there were a couple of quiet and uncomfortable laughs. Jeanine suddenly burst into tears and threw herself on Justin, who happened to be sitting next to her. He patted her ample shoulder a little awkwardly, then eeled out of her grasp and went to stand behind his mother's chair. Jeanine continued to sniffle and sob. Susan got up and went inside the house.

  "Rather than have this mob descend on the funeral home, I thought it would be easier to bring their brochure here. That way we can all come to an agreement and Jennifer and I will let them know." Clarissa handed a stack of pamphlets to those on either side of her.

  "You mean we don't actually get to see the coffin?" Jeanine asked.

  "You're welcome to come with us, if you'd like," Clarissa told her.

  "Dammit, you know I've gotta work today!" Jeanine said heatedly. "I had to change my schedule just so I could be here, and that putz Tony will probably be pissed about it. I'm a member of this family too, but looks like I'm SOL as far as being involved in this important time in my only brother's life."

  Clarissa resisted the urge to say something ugly, though she certainly thought it. There was a bit of an edge to her tone when she spoke. "Jeanine, I'm trying to work around your schedule as best I can, but you're not the only family member here. Please take a few minutes to look at the brochure and then we'll all talk about it."

  Susan returned with a drink for Jeanine, who took it without a word and drained half of it in one gulp. "It's a little weak on the Bourbon," was her only comment.

  Gracie was looking at the pamphlet. She'd never imagined coffins could come in so many varieties. "Hey Mom, I remember hearing about these new biodegradable coffins. They make 'em out of compressed newspapers and even banana sheaves. Wouldn't that be great?"

  "Gracie, I'm not sure your father would have appreciated that," her mother said.

  "I think it's perfect!" Jeanine said. "Charles can go straight to Hell in a hand basket! I always told him he would." Her face changed from sarcastic to devastated as she realized she was supposed to be in mourning, and she proceeded to boo-hoo dramatically.

  "While everyone's looking at the pictures, let's decide on the pallbearers," Clarissa said. "Clarke, do you feel up to it? I know your father would have liked that, but you don't have to."

  "I'd like to do it, Mom," Clarke said. "I always thought it would be an honor, I just didn't expect to have to do it so soon."

  "Uh, Mom? Could I help carry the casket too?" Justin asked.

  Clarissa had to work to keep the surprise from showing on her face. "Why, of course you can, Justin. I think that would be wonderful, and I'm proud of you for asking. I know you feel guilty about getting into that fight with him, and I hope you don't feel like you have to do this to make up for it."

  "It's not to make up for it," Justin replied. "I can't make up, not now. We'll never have a chance to make up and I'll never forget that. But I want to remember something positive about him, and this will be a good start."

  "I'd like to volunteer, too," Bill said. "As his best friend for many years it's the last thing I can do for him." He paused a moment in reflection. "When you're young you never think about death. You never think anything can separate good friends. Now here I am helping plan his funeral."

  "Thank you Bill, I'd hoped I could count on you. Jim, I'd like to ask you as well," Clarissa said.

  "It's a sad duty, but one I would be pleased to perform. Thanks for asking," Jim said. "I think Tom would like to be included, too. I'll ask him if you'd like."

  "Thanks, that would be nice. If no one has any objections, I think I will ask Jerry Wilkins, Charles' boss, if he'd be the sixth pallbearer."

  No one did, so the list was complete. They spent thirty minutes debating the merits and flaws of the various caskets and finally decided on one. Jeanine stalked off in a snit because it wasn't the one she'd wanted. All other details were settled and the group slowly broke up as people left.

  Late Saturday afternoon Gracie was taking a break from homework to water the houseplants. Ava Avocado was doing well and Gracie rearranged the vines, looping them over the curtain rod so they hung gracefully. Mom complained that the window was starting to look like a jungle, but Gracie liked the lush plant. It was soothing to look at, as well as helping to refresh the air in her room. She felt like she needed something soothing after the events of the past week.

  Finished with the plants in her room Gracie began making the rounds of those in the den. The big palm tree in the corner was dry again, but she was careful not to over-water it. As she checked the smaller plants she glanced over to see what her mother was doing. There were pictures of Dad spread all over the coffee table.

  "What's with all the pix?" she asked.

  "I'm trying to choose some for the slideshow," Clarissa replied. "Clarke said he'd put one together, to be shown at the funeral. I think it's a marvelous way to recap a life – better than any eulogy."

  "The old 'a picture is worth a thousand words' thing, huh?" Gracie walked over to take a closer look.

  "Exactly," her mother said. "This way you can see the person's entire life, the light-hearted moments as well as the important events. It gives you a better perspective on who they really were. Take a look at this one – would you ever have imagined your father like this?"

  Gracie took the photo and studied it. Dad looked to be about six, wearing a cheap Batman costume. It must've been Halloween, as he carried an orange plastic pumpkin. A tiny Jeanine stood by his side in a fairy princess outfit complete with a glittery star-topped wand. She laughed and handed it back. "I'd have thought Superman was more his style."

  "Here's one from his Prom," Clarissa said. "Doesn't Clarke look just like him?"

  "Oh, look!" Gracie said, picking up another picture. "Here's one when Clarke was just a baby. You both look so proud, and happy too."

  "Of course we were," her mother said. "We had everything we wanted, and our lives before us." She stopped and looked off into the distance, remembering. "We thought it was great when your father took the job at the insurance agency; unfortunately his success spoiled him, who would've thought?"

  Clay came in, wiping sweat from his face. He'd been mowing the yard, and was chugging down a bottle of cold water. "Whew! I'm all finished out there, how's your project going?"

  "I'm getting there," Clarissa said. "I don't know much about PhotoShop, do you think Clarke can crop Jeanine out of this picture?" She pointed to the Halloween shot. "Or should we leave her in?"
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  "Leave her in," Clay replied. "It adds to the 'cute' factor. I just hope when she sees it she doesn't decide to re-create the costume this year!"

  Gracie shuddered at the mental picture that brought to her mind.

  "All girls think of themselves as a princess, even when they're grown and wouldn't admit it for the world," Clarissa said with a smile on her face.

  "And I try to treat you like a princess, but I'm glad you don't want to dress up like one," Clay said.

  Clarissa smiled fondly at him. "The definition of 'dressing up' changes as we get older."

  "Wasn't I a princess one Halloween, too?" Gracie asked.

  "When you were four," her mother responded. "I made your crown myself."

  "Candy was too," Clay told them. "I think she was six that year. She like to drove us crazy fluttering around the house in that long dress!"

  Clarissa put the picture down and looked up at Clay with a funny look on her face. She took a deep breath and asked, "Clay, were you really with Candy on Tuesday afternoon?"

  "Of course I was," he replied. "Oh, I know she told that lieutenant she'd called me, but she was just embellishing. You know how she likes her drama."

  Gracie glanced at her mother, as if asking permission. Clarissa seemed frozen, not sure she believed her boyfriend but unwilling to push the matter.

  "I thought maybe you just said that because you were at some construction site all by yourself, and you were afraid the police wouldn't believe you," Gracie told him.

  Clay smiled a little uncertainly. "But why would I be a suspect in the first place?

  Gracie gave him a lopsided smile to indicate she wasn't sure of what she was about to say. "Maybe you thought you'd get your hands on my inheritance?"

  "Not an ice cube's chance in Hell you'd let me! You're smarter than that." he replied with a laugh.

  "But don't you see it makes you look like you needed an alibi?" she asked. "And now neither you nor Candy have one. If I didn't know better I'd think it was Candy who needed the alibi, but I can't imagine why. She's got no motive, she'd never even met my Dad."

  Clay's face seemed to fall in on itself and he sat down on the carpet, hard. At first Gracie thought it was because he was all sweaty and didn't want to get grass on the couch, but then she realized it was because he just couldn't stand any longer under the pressure of his emotions.

  Clay looked up at the two women and said, "Yes she has. She didn't know exactly who he was at the time, but she figured it out later."

  Clarissa seemed to come out of her trance. "What are you talking about?"

  "You know how Candy likes to party," Clay began. Clarissa and Gracie just nodded assent.

  "Charles picked her up at some club, about eighteen months ago. She said he wasn't her type and tried to brush him off, but he insisted. He flashed a lot of cash and she figured what the hell, maybe she could get some of it. He wined and dined her, and they ended up at a fancy hotel."

  "He raped her?" Gracie asked.

  "No, definitely a seduction, she went along with it willingly," Clay replied. "She said he'd changed his tune by the next morning, couldn't wait to get out of there. Like he'd gotten what he wanted and she was no longer important. She said she'd expected him to offer her money, but he didn't."

  "Wouldn't it have made her mad to be offered money, like a common whore?"

  "I think it made her madder that he didn't," Clay said. "She seemed to think she'd found a Sugar Daddy, and was upset when that didn't turn out to be the case."

  "How did she figure out it was Dad?" asked Gracie.

  "That morning as he was getting ready to leave she thought maybe he was married. Not that that would have bothered Candy," Clay said. "But when she asked him he said something about his ex-wife Clarissa. A couple of weeks later we were talking and I said I had a date that evening. She couldn't remember your name," he gave an apologetic look to Clarissa, "and when I reminded her it connected up."

  "It's not a real common name," Clarissa said, finally coming out of her daze. "So when she heard it she remembered the conversation and told you about it."

  "Yeah. She seemed to think it was one of life's funny coincidences, and so did I until she told me his name. Then I knew what the bastard had done." Clay looked at Gracie and said, "Sorry."

  Clarissa shook her head, as if unable to believe what she'd just heard. "He seduced your daughter just to get back at me?" Clarissa asked.

  "'Fraid so."

  "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

  "Because I didn't want him to hurt you any further," Clay replied. "You have to understand, Candy wasn't upset about it at all. It was just another guy to her, no big deal. You and I were the real targets of that act, and I didn't want it to come between us."

  "So, what, does she think the police would believe that gave her a motive to kill him? Over a year later?" Gracie asked.

  "No, she doesn't – but I do!" Clay said. "They'd think she just figured out who he was and why he'd done it and decided to get revenge. It's not impossible."

  "No, I guess it's not, not when you put it that way," Gracie admitted. "But, Clay, it gives you a motive too. They'd say you just found out about it and you were the one who wanted revenge."

  "They don't know Clay," Clarissa put in. "He'd go talk to Charles and call him a cad and be done with it."

  "I thought about doing just that!" Clay said. "Except I thought it would only make him decide to tell you all about it, and I didn't want that. I'm not happy about it, but what really bothers me is that my daughter doesn't see a problem with having one-night stands. Sadly, Charles was just one of many."

  "So I'll ask you again, where were you Tuesday afternoon?"

  "I was at a construction site, like Gracie said. It was busy, but I'm not sure if anyone will remember me being there. You know how it is, they're there to get the work done, I'm just the architect. And Candy had gone shopping at lunch and lost track of time. She's got some receipts she pulled out of the trash, that should prove she was at the mall."

  "Clay, you have to tell the lieutenant," Clarissa said firmly. "It'll be better to get it all out in the open, you know that."

  "But I still don't understand why Lieutenant Freeman would think there's a problem," Gracie said a bit petulantly.

  "Sometimes people snap, Gracie," Clay responded. "Even if something doesn't sound like a big deal to you, for some reason it might really bother them. A normally good person will suddenly do something totally out of character to exact their revenge. That's why you always hear relatives of the murderer saying 'I just can't believe he'd do a thing like that.'"

  Gracie thought about it for a minute. "Yeah, I guess I can see that. But you didn't, right?"

  "No, I swear to you Gracie, I didn't kill your father," Clay told her in a steady voice. "And your mom's right, I need to tell the police the truth. I know I should've earlier but…"

  "You were just trying to protect your daughter," Clarissa said. "I might've done the same thing under the circumstances."

  Gracie suddenly felt uncomfortably that she was in the way. Her mother and Clay would need to talk about this by themselves so she announced that she had to finish her homework and left. She could hear Clay asking for the lieutenant as she walked down the hall to her room.

  Back in her room Gracie stared at her school books without seeing them. Her mind wasn't on homework right now. She kept thinking about what Clay had said about someone suddenly snapping and doing something out of character. That certainly seemed to be the case here, she thought. She couldn't imagine anyone she knew that had even the slightest motive as the kind of person who would commit murder.

  Had Clay not told the whole story, and that comment was meant to be a hint? That just didn't seem likely, if he'd suddenly confessed about Candy's seduction wouldn't he have admitted if he – or Candy – had shot her father? Maybe not, she told herself. Maybe he thinks it can't be tracked back to either of them and they're safe, so he can hint that someone went nuts
o and think it'll be OK.

  Except that it didn't make sense to Gracie. She'd seen Clay get angry before, but he still kept himself under control pretty well. Plus, he didn't sound angry now, only sorry he'd had to tell Mom what had happened. He seemed more sad that Candy was a slut than angry at her.

  Supposedly Candy hadn't even known who Dad was until later, and even then hadn't seemed to care. That certainly sounded like the Candy she knew! Kind of like a less-successful Jennifer, Gracie thought. She liked to party and tried to get favors (including money) from any guy she could. She would be likely to make a big scene if she didn't get what she wanted, maybe key his car on her way out of the hotel, but not wait well over a year and then kill the guy.

  Besides, just because Dad had picked Candy up didn't mean he'd been targeting her, did it? Clay and Mom seemed to think so, but maybe they were reading more into it than was there. Dad liked pretty young girls and he liked to get his way. Maybe he just saw her and wanted her, um, company. That could've been all there was to it.

  She'd just have to wait and see if Lieutenant Freeman could prove their new alibis. If one of the construction workers remembered seeing Clay at the site that would be enough. She really hoped that would be the case, for her mother's sake. And he'd said Candy had some receipts that should prove she'd been at the mall that afternoon. If she'd paid cash that could be a little tricky, but it might be enough.

  Depending on the times these things happened, it might still leave either of them open for the shots at the parking garage. Though that still left the problem of how they'd have gotten Dad's gun. That one was a puzzler. Supposing they had somehow, it might be a crime of opportunity – they found the gun and suddenly decided to get revenge. Clay might have gone downtown on some kind of business, but she couldn't imagine why Candy would be there.