***
Isabelle poured a second cup of coffee for herself, forlornly watching a bleary-eyed Kevin read The New York Times at the kitchen table. He was doing his best to ignore what must have been a raging hangover.
“I need to talk to you about the Walczak house,” she said, taking a sip from the blue-striped china cup.
Kevin looked up, the bags under his eyes and wan complexion verifying his overindulgence of the night before.
“Not much to say. It’s pre-foreclosure, at the moment.”
“I want to buy it then.”
“Why do you want another old house? You’ve already got the Cook house on that street and two on Railroad.”
“It’s a good rental, that’s why. I intend to have eight properties by next year.”
Kevin messily folded the newspaper and placed it in front of his untouched bowl of granola. He sighed. “I think there’s already someone interested in the property. It’s in probate now and there are a lot of penalties to be paid off. I don’t think it’s a good deal for you.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. I find it hard to believe that Frances Walczak would have let things go in arrears. Or is her ex-husband involved with the house?”
“Mrs. Walczak took out a home equity loan to buy out his share when they divorced. The debt is hers. At least, that’s what I’ve been told.”
Isabelle dropped a spoonful of sugar into her coffee, stirring it thoughtfully, and sipped again.
“Oak Street is a good neighborhood. It won’t be hard to rent either house.”
Kevin pushed the ladder-back chair away from the table, looking at Isabelle, who leaned against the black granite counter.
“There’s a bit of an issue on Oak Street and with the Walczak house. There’s that stolen quilt and the owner’s death across the street from the house that you almost own. Aren’t you a little concerned about that?”
Isabelle sniffed. “I don’t see what that has to do with buying the house. Someone stole the quilt … allegedly. It has nothing to do with selling it.”
“The Cook woman is accused of stealing it, you know. She may be hiding stolen goods.”
“I don’t believe it for a minute. It’s absurd. Someone else stole it, or maybe she washed it and ruined the thing. Besides, Lulu is leaving on a cross-country trip with some tour group. She’ll be out of the house in a few weeks. That is, if she cleans out the rest of the junk she’s accumulated. It’s unbelievable.”
“Is she really cleaning out the house?”
Kevin rose and put the bowl in the dishwasher. He grabbed a mug from the cupboard and slipped a K-cup into the coffeemaker.
“She is, but the garage is a disaster. Of course, her friend met with … well, an accident in there. Lulu might be avoiding it until the end.”
“Yeah. That’s right. That was a shame. I’m surprised that Mrs. Cook wasn’t investigated for foul play.”
“Are you kidding? You don’t know these people, Kevin. They aren’t capable of something like that.” Her eyes hardened as she looked at him. “You don’t know me, as a matter of fact. And maybe I don’t know you.” She glanced around the kitchen, before turning her gaze back to Kevin. “What are we doing here anyway?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Oh no, you don’t. Your cousin’s wedding’s put ideas in your head.” His face spread in a wolfish grin. “We agreed that marriage wasn’t on the table, remember? This is a mutually beneficial business arrangement with special advantages—for both of us.”
He smiled charmingly at her, which had no effect on Isabelle’s dour mood, and took his seat at the table.
“That’s not the way I see it,” Isabelle said in a biting tone, placing her cup in the sink. “You do live here at my pleasure.”
“Of course, it’s pleasure,” Kevin agreed with a smirk. He quickly rejoined her at the sink and started nuzzling her neck.
Isabelle backed away, pressing her hand against his chest. “Not now, Kevin.”
“Your loss.” He shrugged and walked to the side window in the large kitchen.
The sky was overcast, leaves blowing in swirls across the lawn.
“Good thing the wedding was yesterday,” he said.
“Timing is everything,” Isabelle replied, pulling her fluffy powder-blue robe closed. “It’s chilly in here. Did you turn up the heat?”
***
Suzie had just plugged in the big coffeemaker in the Fellowship Hall at Deer Creek Community Church. Margaret was arranging brownies and cookies onto plastic serving trays. Gloria appeared in the kitchen and greeted her friends.
“Enough cookies?” she asked Margaret.
“More than enough,” Margaret replied. She straightened up, helping herself to a brownie.
“How did the wedding go yesterday?” Suzie inquired, pulling a pile of white paper napkins from the cupboard.
Gloria nodded, smiling. “It was beautiful. Gracie was lovely, of course. Isabelle did a wonderful job of turning her backyard into an autumn country-wedding venue. The chef at the Glen Iris outdid himself with an absolutely delicious meal. She and Marc looked so happy, and they make such a handsome couple.”
“He seems much different than Michael,” Margaret commented. “They were so close. Always together.”
“I know. I hope they’ll be happy,” Suzie added.
“I’m sure they will. Gracie has changed quite a bit since Michael’s death. She’s much more independent now,” Gloria confirmed, helping Suzie with the napkins, while Margaret set out the plastic spoons.
Margaret placed spoons in a small wicker basket lined with a napkin. “I always thought she and Jim would get together. To tell you the truth, I’m a little surprised they didn’t.”
Gloria frowned. “Surprising or not, Gracie and Marc really are a solid couple. You know Jim Taylor can’t commit. He’s always been that way.”
“I guess the most handsome men like to play the field forever. He should think seriously about settling down soon. He’s no spring chicken anymore,” Suzie said.
“None of us are,” Gloria agreed. “Now that the wedding is over, I’m glad Albert can focus his energies on settling Franny’s estate. He’s been bone-tired with so many things going on. I do worry about his heart.”
“I would too,” Suzie agreed. “He needs to slow down.”
“Have you found the quilt in the house?” Margaret asked, leaning against the old Formica counter near the big double sink.
“No. I have no idea where it could be. Theresa and I took a good look through all her linens.”
Suzie stacked the paper hot cups on a corner table. “Do you think Lulu really has it?”
Gloria sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t want to believe that, since Franny met with such a horrible accident in Lulu’s garage.”
“I know … it was …” Margaret began.
“Good morning, Lulu,” Suzie loudly greeted the long-absent congregant who stood in the doorway.
CHAPTER 24
Gracie woke, snugly wrapped in her husband’s arms. Marc still slept, and she hesitated to break the embrace. The room was dark even though the clock on the bedside table said 8:30. He murmured and rolled over, releasing her, which was probably a good thing. The call of nature wouldn’t wait much longer. When she returned, Marc was peering out the window at the gloomy day.
“Breakfast in bed?” he asked, reaching for her.
“I think that’s an excellent idea. I don’t want to have to get dressed for breakfast.”
“Dressing for breakfast is overrated,” he said, chuckling.
She had to agree, following him back to bed, while they waited for their order to arrive.
***
The dogs were ecstatic when they arrived home. Max barked joyously, and Haley butt-tucked around the dirt piles in the yard. Jim had taken them with him for the night and had deposited them in the backyard when he came to oversee the morning routine at the kennel.
“Holy cow, do
gs! You’d think we’d been away for a week,” Gracie exclaimed, finally corralling a wriggling Haley. “Let’s wipe off all four paws before you go inside.”
She threw a small towel to Marc, who caught it and began working on Max. Haley was uncooperative and dashed off once more, before deciding it was in her best interest to have her feet cleaned.
“Finally. You are a crazy dog today,” she said, exasperated. She tossed the towel on a chair.
Haley merely wagged her tail, pushing ahead of Max through the French doors into the living room. The house smelled homey and warm, the aroma of a roasting chicken wafting throughout.
“Your mother’s been here already,” Marc said, sniffing appreciatively.
“I have no doubt. But I’m grateful for that today. Cooking is not high on my priorities.”
“Nor mine,” Marc said. “We need to say good-bye to my family in about an hour. Will dinner wait that long?”
Gracie opened the oven door and checked the meat thermometer. “Not a problem. Are they coming over, or are we going to your house?”
“They’ll stop here before they head to the airport.”
“Good. At least, we can relax today then. I have a feeling we’ll be busy getting you ready to leave.”
“Don’t even talk about next week. We’re in the moment.” Marc’s smile was a bit weak, and she wondered if he was having second thoughts about DACO.
“I’m all about the moment,” she agreed.
The dogs began growling and barking a few minutes later as a car rolled into the driveway.
“They’re here,” Gracie called out.
She watched her new in-laws make their way up the sidewalk to the kitchen door. Marc quieted Max and opened the door for his family to enter.
“It smells wonderful,” Violet exclaimed as soon as she walked in. “You’re pretty amazing if you’ve already put a meal in the oven.”
Gracie laughed. “I can claim no credit. It’s my mother. We couldn’t possibly miss a meal, especially on Sunday,” she said, hugging her mother-in-law.
Marc took Larry and Miranda into the living room, while Violet found a seat at the counter.
“You and Marc are good together. I’m so happy for you both.”
“Thank you. It’s been an interesting journey to this point and will probably continue that way. His job will keep him away from home quite a bit.”
“You’ll adjust. It won’t be easy, especially with his training that starts in a couple of days. What bad timing for a honeymoon.”
“I know. But I want Marc to pursue his career, as I have mine. It will be tough, but I’m hoping the time goes by quickly for this training.”
“It will,” Violet assured her.
“What about this stalker of Miranda’s? Did they catch him?”
“I think so. I’m sure that’s what Marc is talking about with them. If only Miranda had said something. My children are the poorest communicators on the face of the earth—besides their father. Miranda has always kept things bottled up until they explode, and it hasn’t improved with age.”
Gracie nodded, remembering her tense conversations with Marc in Arizona. He’d held back quite a few things as well, not the least of which was the fact he’d lost his job with the sheriff’s department.
“Now that it’s in the open, and they’ve arrested the guy, maybe she’ll get back to normal.”
“I do hope so,” said Violet. “Larry’s been through a lot this year, trying to figure out if it was something he’d done or what. I hope Miranda hasn’t damaged her marriage.”
Gracie nodded solemnly, noticing that Marc seemed to have finished the private conversation in the other room.
“Time to run,” Larry announced. “It’s been a pleasure finally meeting you, Gracie. We wish you and Marc all the best.”
He gave Gracie a peck on the cheek before shaking Marc’s hand. Miranda hugged Marc, tears sparkling in her eyes.
“Thank you, Marc. I can’t tell you …” Her voice caught, and Marc grasped her shoulders.
“It’s going to be all right now, Miranda. Don’t pull another stunt like this again.”
She shook her head sorrowfully. “You can count on that. I thought he’d just forget it and go away.”
“You can’t fix crazy or stupid,” Marc replied firmly. “And this appears to be both.”
Miranda brushed a tear from her cheek, a tentative smile curving her mouth as she hugged Marc again. She offered Gracie a rather stiff embrace, while Violet said good-bye to her son.
“Come and visit,” Violet said as Larry opened the door.
“We will, Mom,” Marc assured her. “Not sure when it’ll be, but we’ll plan on it.”
“Don’t say things just to make me happy,” Violet teased.
“Of course not,” Marc bantered back.
“We really will,” Gracie added. “Have a safe flight home.”
The car rolled out onto the road, and Gracie sighed.
“The invasion of the new in-laws is over,” Marc said, laughing.
“You’re perpetually stuck with yours,” Gracie quipped, opening the oven door to check on the roasting chicken, potatoes, and carrots.
The fragrance was making her hungry, even after her hearty breakfast of eggs Benedict.
“One of the benefits of travel,” he kidded.
“Really?” Gracie threw an oven mitt at him. “That’s the real reason you wanted the DACO job?”
Marc grabbed her around the waist and kissed her. “I’m going to miss you like crazy,” he whispered.
“You’d better.”
A knock at the door brought the dogs tearing back into the kitchen, barking, tails wagging.
“Jim!” Marc exclaimed, throwing the door open.
“Sorry to barge in, but I wanted to let Gracie know that Marian had a fall today and broke her hip.”
“What!?” Gracie almost dropped the plates she was taking from the cupboard. “What happened?”
“She was in the Geneseo Wal-Mart parking lot, just walking to the car, and must have tripped or something. Anyway, she fell. It was a good thing Al was right behind her. She’s in Strong, having surgery right now.”
Gracie set the plates on the kitchen counter. “Oh, poor Marian! That’s terrible!”
“Right and poor you. Grooming appointments for the next week are already booked up.”
Gracie pulled a pair of brown-checked napkins from a drawer and gathered flatware from another. “That puts a different spin on my schedule. We may have to cancel a few. I don’t think I can handle all of them, especially with Marc leaving.”
“I’ll let you make the calls.” Jim leaned against the door, hands folded across his chest.
Gracie sighed, placing a fork on top of the napkin. “I didn’t need this problem. I really wanted to take Monday off.”
“Don’t stress about it,” Marc said. “I’ll be around. Can Cheryl or Trudy help you?”
“Some,” she said, going back to the oven. “Poor Marian. This will keep her out of commission for some time.”
“Probably,” Jim agreed, opening the door. “Well, I’ll let you lovebirds go back to whatever … ahem … you were doing.”
“That’s right,” Gracie teased good-naturedly, snapping a dishtowel in Jim’s direction. “We were having an excellent time until you showed up.”
“Excuse me!” he said with a mocking bow.
Marc’s cell phone sounded, and Jim slipped out the door.
CHAPTER 25
Theresa dumped the coffee grounds into the trash can in the church kitchen. Gloria wiped down the counters as Theresa finished cleaning the large coffee urn. The coffee time after the morning worship service had been lightly attended. Even Suzie and Margaret had made tracks, mentioning an afternoon trip to Naples for grapes. Theresa hoped to finish quickly, because a nap in her recliner was an absolute necessity. She’d been on the go since before the sun was up. She wasn’t even sure why she’d rushed to come to church. Bo
b had declined to accompany her, opting for the newspaper and an extra cup of coffee. He’d disclosed his exhaustion as the father of the bride and couldn’t understand why she was “on a quest to ride on the wings of the dawn.” He was still throwing out poetic phrases, which was very strange.
“There. All done,” Gloria said, rinsing out the dishcloth.
“Me too. Let’s go,” Theresa added, wiping her hands on a paper towel. “I’m beat.”
“Theresa?”
The women looked up to see Lulu standing near some stray chairs next to the stacked folding chairs in the corner of the empty Fellowship Hall.
“Lulu. Is something wrong?” Theresa made a quick assessment of Lulu’s demeanor. The woman was pale and looked frightened.
“Well … uh.” Lulu licked her lips and walked toward them. “I need to talk to someone. I’m not sure, but …” She stopped and then took another couple of steps, grabbed the back of the gray metal chair, and crumpled to the floor.
Theresa waved the damp towel at Lulu’s ashen face.
“Breathe, Lulu. It’s okay,” she instructed.
Gloria came running with a glass of water.
“Drink this.” She handed the drink to Lulu, who took a quick gulp.
“I’m all right. I don’t know what came over me. I really need to talk to someone.” Lulu blinked rapidly, exhaling heavily and then sucking in a deep breath.
Theresa helped Lulu into the chair and pulled two more into a tight circle.
“Tell us what this is all about,” Gloria said, wadding up the small towel on her lap. She put a hand on Lulu’s shoulder, and she shrunk away.
“Really. I’m all right. But someone broke into my garage while I was at church. The place is a mess. They tossed quilts everywhere, dumped fabric …” She closed her eyes. “It’s awful. I’m sure it must be about Franny’s quilt. I should’ve never . . .” The lanky woman sighed deeply, rising from the chair.
“Did you actually take Franny’s quilt?” Gloria asked.
Lulu looked her in the eye. “No. I did not. I don’t even know where the quilt is.”
Pins & Needles (A Gracie Andersen Mystery Book 5) Page 14