Pins & Needles (A Gracie Andersen Mystery Book 5)

by Wallace,Laurinda

  Midge appeared with a mug and a coffee pot.

  “Thanks, Midge,” Gracie said gratefully.

  “No problem. Two sweet rolls left, if you care,” the wizened restaurant owner said with a smirk.

  “I care. I care. Only one though,” Gracie said, laughing.

  “Where’s your man? I haven’t seen him in weeks.”

  “Training for his new job. I was just telling Mom he’ll be home this weekend with Max.”

  “Oh. Pretty bad timing with getting married and all.”

  “Yes, it was,” Gracie agreed, warming her hands on the thick white mug full of coffee. “I’m afraid I need to get used to an on-again-off-again husband.”

  Midge made a face. “Now, what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “This job has a lot of travel. He’ll probably be gone a week or more at a time.”

  “Humphh!” Midge turned and stomped off to the kitchen.

  “Hope she remembers the sweet roll,” Gracie said.

  “Does she ever forget anything?” Theresa returned her attention to the ham and cheese filled omelet.

  “Whatever happened with Franny’s estate and that lost quilt?” Gracie took a sip of coffee.

  “It’s still lost, and things finally quieted down after Art’s accident in the cellar,” Gloria answered.

  “How’s he doing?”

  “Fine. Albert checked on him a few days ago. Art is quite subdued and anxious to be working. They’ve fitted him with some sort of protective boot.”

  “Not many lawns to cut now,” Theresa commented.

  “No, but still lots of leaves to deal with. He cleans gutters and does windows too. Although, I expect he’s not up to those jobs yet. He’ll plow driveways in the winter though.”

  “I need my gutters cleaned,” Gracie mused, watching Midge carry a plate with the coveted cinnamon roll, dripping with white icing.

  “Here you go,” Midge said, depositing the plate on the table.

  “Thanks.” Gracie pulled the gooey roll apart and licked her fingers.

  “When’s that auction at Franny’s going to be?” Midge asked, adjusting the position of the pencil behind her right ear.

  “Next week,” Gloria answered. “Saturday morning, starting at eight.”

  “Any good stuff?”

  “Depends on your definition,” Gloria said with a pained smile. “Nothing very interesting. Household goods.”

  “What about that antique quilt of hers? I’d think that would bring a pretty penny.”

  Gracie chewed on the roll, happy to have a mouth full at the moment. Midge was on her predictable fishing expedition.

  “That won’t be in the auction,” Gloria said quickly.

  “Oh. Family got it, right?”

  “Uh … well …”

  The sound of Isabelle’s sharp voice rescued Gloria. The women turned to see Lulu and Isabelle walk to a table at the other side of the dining area. Midge frowned, chewing the inside of her cheek.

  “Here we go again,” she grumbled. “I’d better whip out a couple of the real estate mogul specials for her highness.”

  They all stifled laughs as Midge returned to the grill, her temper worse than ever.

  “Must be Lulu’s house closing today,” Gloria whispered.

  “I knew she’d asked Isabelle for an earlier date,” Theresa said.

  “And has she said where’s she’s going?” Gracie asked the co-conspirators.

  “No. Not a word to anyone. “However, now may be the perfect time,” Theresa said, scraping back her chair.

  Isabelle and Lulu looked surprised to see Theresa at their table, and Gracie slid into her mother’s vacated chair for a better view. Everyone smiled, and all seemed quite pleasant. Her mother was smooth, when she had to be. Gracie was afraid that smoothness would never be a skill she’d have, especially when it came to conversing with Isabelle. Her mother was masterful with Isabelle. Information gathering and keeping the peace were child’s play for her. Minutes later, Theresa gave Gracie the sign to scoot back to her own chair.

  “Well, what did she say?” Gloria put her elbows on the table and leaned toward Theresa. Gracie continued her mission to finish the now mini-sized treat.

  “She’s leaving on an extended trip to see America.”

  “Not Mexico? She didn’t say anything about Mexico or Costa Rica?”

  “No.” Theresa shook her head and picked up her coffee cup.

  “Hmm.” Gloria’s brow wrinkled as she leaned against the wicker-backed chair. “Will she be back?”

  “She’s thinking of settling in a warmer climate. Lulu’s really tired of winter, or so she says.”

  “Florida then?”

  Gracie washed down the last bit of doughy deliciousness with lukewarm coffee, listening to the women.

  “I don’t know. One would think. Florida is the logical choice if you want to live where it’s warm. Everyone we know is down there for at least a month or two in the winter. There’s the Wyoming County picnic in Kissimmee every year.”

  Gracie rolled her eyes. “Florida isn’t the only place it’s warm. She’s apparently cutting her ties with Deer Creek, and she’s not letting you in on her plans or the rest of the county either.”

  “She’s the most frustrating woman I’ve ever known,” Theresa complained. “We just tried to help her. Now I think she’s holding a grudge against us.”

  A waitress scurried to Isabelle’s table with two plates laden with quiche and fruit.

  ***

  Gracie’s heart was pounding when she saw the private jet touch down on the runway. Minutes later she was in Marc’s arms, with Max’s front legs on her back. She was the bologna in the sandwich at the moment. Finally disengaging from their 360 embrace, Marc slung his backpack over his shoulder, while Gracie took the restless shepherd’s leash.

  “You’d better let me handle him,” Marc said. “Now that we’re official partners, I’m not so sure he’ll pay attention to you, after all we’ve done in the last three weeks.”

  Gracie handed the leash back to Marc, who gave Max a sharp tug. The dog settled and heeled without any verbal commands.

  “Nice work,” she said, observing the black-and-tan shepherd’s cool demeanor. “He’s always been a little much. Must be this was good for him.”

  “And for me too. I’ll have my travel schedule in a couple of weeks. But I’ll be around the house for about a week. I can’t wait either. Let’s go home.”

  Gracie hadn’t heard a better offer in weeks.

  ***

  Isabelle pounded the “For Rent” sign into the leaf-covered lawn. The thin metal rods sank easily into the damp ground. She straightened up and eyed her work, testing the sign’s stability with her free hand, a mallet dangling from the other. Now, if she could snag renters for the Cook house before Christmas, she’d be happy. The roll-off next to the garage was full of construction debris from gutting the kitchen and bathrooms. With the renovations almost complete, there was no reason why the right people couldn’t be living there before Thanksgiving. Maybe she’d advertise it as “Home for the Holidays.” It had a nice ring to it. She wouldn’t be so fortunate with the Walczak property. Reverend Minders seemed reluctant to move forward on accepting her offer. Who else would want the property? He should be pleased as punch with her solid offer.

  A Mini Cooper tootled down the street, making a quick stop in front of the Walczak house. Isabelle sucked in a breath. Adriana. What was she doing here?

  The redhead quickly centered herself on the front lawn, a camera hanging from her neck. She crouched and took multiple shots of the house. Isabelle put the mallet in the cargo area of her SUV and walked across the street.

  “Adriana! What a surprise! Another photo shoot? I thought you’d finished in Deer Creek.”

  The attractive woman stood and swung around to face Isabelle.

  “Hi, Isabelle. Not another shoot. I have to finish one that was due last week. The historical magazine in Nunda wanted so
me outside shots of the old Stederman house to go along with the rest of the photos of the quilt. It’s a good thing I took the quilt pictures early, now that it seems to have vanished.” She peered down at the digital camera’s display, checking her work.

  “Stolen is what I hear.”

  Adriana nodded. “I’m skeptical of that, but I guess we’ll never know. It’s such a shame that it hasn’t been recovered.”

  “I’m sure. I prefer china and glass myself. Maybe I should have you photograph it for insurance purposes.”

  Adriana bit her bottom lip and looked away.

  “I’m sure you don’t need my services for that.” Adriana knelt on the ground and took another aspect of the house.

  “Maybe not. You do know that this isn’t the Stederman house. That’s over on Butternut.” A breeze ruffled Isabelle’s blond hair, which fell into her eyes. Brushing it away, she buttoned up her coat.

  “Oh no. I thought this was the place. What’s the address?”

  After precise directions were given and Adriana had driven off, Isabelle walked up the sidewalk to the front door and squinted through the yellowed lace curtains. The auction company had furniture items grouped and tagged for the sale coming in early November. Nothing of interest, naturally.

  She turned to leave and saw Gloria Minder’s car rounding the bend in the street. The small sedan parked, and Gloria practically jumped from the car.

  “Oh, Isabelle. How are you?” she said breathlessly, as Isabelle went to meet her.

  “Just fine. And yourself?”

  “Running late. I was supposed to meet some photographer here.”

  “Adriana?”

  “That’s it. She took the pictures of Gracie’s wedding. She wanted to see the inside of the house today.”

  “Why would she want to do that?” Isabelle’s mouth twitched ever so slightly.

  “A friend of hers may be interested in buying the property. She wanted a quick look around to see if it would be the right floorplan.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I hope I didn’t miss her. Maybe she’s behind schedule too.” Gloria looked both ways down Oak Street, rubbing her hands together.

  “Could be. I have a house to show myself. See you later.”

  She saw Gloria return to her car in the rearview mirror.

  ***

  Gracie spread cruise brochures across the coffee table. Plunking herself on the sofa next to Marc, she said, “Five days is perfect, if you can get the time off.”

  “I don’t think that’ll be a problem, because of this training coming on the heels of our wedding.” Marc leaned forward and thumbed through a colorful booklet.

  “The Caribbean cruise sounds wonderful. Or we can do the Mexican Riviera one.”

  “Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” Marc’s cell jangled loudly, and he dropped the cruise information on the table. He hurried to the kitchen to take the call.

  Gracie sighed, drawing her legs onto the leather sofa. He was already back to work after one day at home. Couldn’t they have an uninterrupted conversation? She wasn’t able to make out his muffled exchange. Although he kept his voice low, she could detect aggravation in his tone. Marc returned, carrying his phone, a scowl on his handsome face.

  “Bad news?”

  “No. Well, just annoying. I have to go into the office tomorrow to be briefed on the schedule. It shouldn’t be all day though.”

  Gracie frowned, sliding her feet to the floor. He’d been promised a week of R & R.

  “You don’t need to say anything. I’m not happy about it either, but it’s part of the job.” Marc placed the iPhone on the coffee table. “Let’s talk about cruises.” He pulled her closer and kissed her.

  “Or not,” Gracie whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  ***

  Later they decided on the eastern Caribbean cruise. Gracie made the reservations on her tablet. She and Marc took off with the dogs for the field behind the house. It was fallow this year, with no corn crop to harvest. Haley plunged into the high grass, which was browning now that hard frosts hit every night. Max jumped in right behind her, while Marc and Gracie took their time. The two dogs clearly found the crisp air invigorating. Gracie was glad she’d added a knit cap and gloves with her jacket. Marc ran ahead, urging the dogs to race with him. Max easily pulled ahead of everyone, his tail waving. She laughed, jogging to catch up. Her heart was full. There was nothing like simple pleasures.

  ***

  Kevin slung a dishtowel over his shoulder, jiggling the pan of sautéed onions, mushrooms, and peppers on the gas cooktop. Isabelle tossed a salad. She placed the wooden bowl on the table in the kitchen.

  “Almost ready, beautiful,” Kevin said, humming a tune.

  “Good. I’m starved,” Isabelle said, seating herself at the small round, claw-footed table.

  “Steak all the way coming up.”

  The strip steaks, resting on the large cutting board, were swiftly served on white china plates.

  Isabelle sliced into her tender steak and chewed thoughtfully, while Kevin poured dressing on his salad.

  “Very nice,” she commented.

  “Thanks.”

  “I saw Adriana at the Walczak house today.”

  Kevin stopped mid-bite, dressing dripping from his fork.

  “Oh.”

  “From what I understand, she wanted to see the house because a friend is interested in buying it.”

  “So?” He cut off a piece of steak and quickly popped it in his mouth.

  “I find that odd myself. What friend would be interested in buying the Walczak house? It’s not what I would call an exceptional property.”

  “If it’s good enough for you,” Kevin said, wiping his chin with a linen napkin, “it’s good enough for a friend of Adriana’s.”

  “I’m more interested in why she lied to me about being at the house. Said she was taking pictures for the magazine. Gloria Minders filled me in on the real reason she was there.”

  “You’d have to ask Adriana about that. I don’t have any idea.”

  “Like you don’t have any idea about my vases, which are still missing.” Isabelle tossed her napkin on the table.

  “I’ll replace them. I don’t know what happened to them. People are in and out of here all the time. One of your friends might be light-fingered.”

  “Or one of your friends might be a thief.” Isabelle rose and stalked into the living room.

  Kevin’s expression darkened with anger. He pushed back the chair from the table. “You think Adriana stole the vases? Is that what you’re implying?”

  “If the shoe fits.” Isabelle looked out the large picture window to the back lawn.

  “Then ask her. I’ll ask her, for that matter.”

  “Oh no, you don’t!” she demurred with heat. “I think you’ve had way too much interaction with Adriana. The rumors about you and her are all over town.”

  “Is that right? Well, maybe they’re true, and maybe they’re not.”

  Isabelle turned around to face the angry man, her eyes blazing. “I think it’s best if you leave. Tonight in fact. I want you out.”

  Kevin ran a hand through his short brown hair. “Fine.”

  CHAPTER 38

  Isabelle plodded into the kitchen, filled the teakettle with water, and set it on the cooktop. Pulling out the French press, she measured two scoops into the glass container.

  Her cell phone twinkled out a bright melody. Someone was texting her already. It had better not be Kevin. She ignored it, opting to wait for the water to boil and to watch the rain pummel the driveway. Rain was never good for open houses, and she had two today. She also wanted to pin down the good reverend on accepting her offer for the Walczak house. The desire to have it in her portfolio had doubled since learning Adriana was interested. She could have no reason other than the missing quilt. Maybe Isabelle would search for it herself. Wouldn’t that be something if she discovered Franny Walczak’s hiding place? G
racie couldn’t top that one.

  ***

  “Have you seen what Isabelle’s doing with Lulu’s house?” Theresa asked Gracie, holding a brown paper bag as she walked into the kennel office.

  “I did. She’s really spruced up the landscaping.”

  “A whole new kitchen and bathrooms. Of course, paint and carpets. Lulu wouldn’t recognize it.”

  Gracie reached for the bag, hoping the contents were warm and sweet. “Is she still buying Franny’s house?”

  “I think there’s a competing offer, from what Gloria says.”

  “Who would compete for that house?” Gracie had no idea why the shabby Victorian would be a hot property.

  “Search me.” Theresa poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table.

  “Speaking of Lulu, have you heard anything from her?” Gracie pulled a warm muffin from the bag.

  “Not a word. You were right. She intended to cut all ties with Deer Creek. I’m not sure why.”

  “Must be she’s starting over somewhere. Somewhere warm, no doubt,” she chuckled.

  Theresa grimaced. “And probably not Florida.”

  Cheryl, the assistant kennel manager, knocked on the doorframe. She was dressed warmly in a turtleneck sweater, with an insulated vest and jeans.

  “Did I hear you say that the Cook house has been remodeled?”

  “Yes. I think Isabelle has a sign out already.”

  “Good. My lease is up at the end of year, and I really want to be in Deer Creek and not have to drive so much.”

  “I’ll give you Isabelle’s number,” Theresa said, pulling her phone from her purse.

  Cheryl looked at Gracie. “Would you go with me? I need another opinion, other than that of a teenager. My daughter doesn’t want to change schools, but I’d rather have her in the Letchworth district. She has some friends I’d like to see disappear.”

  “Sure. As long as it’s after hours. I’m swamped with grooming today.”

  ***

  The house immediately met with Cheryl’s approval as well as Gracie’s. Isabelle never disappointed … when it came to renovating houses.

  “Everything is really nice, Isabelle. I’d like to take it.”

  Cheryl was eager, and Isabelle had a pen already in her hand. The lease lay on the kitchen table.