“You can’t rely on Mrs. Barlow’s nosiness to keep you safe.”
“I’m not. I’ll count on my overactive imagination and quick temper to do so. And is that mine?” I nodded at the envelopes in his hand. “Are you spying on me?”
Ted opened his mouth, presumably to argue, then closed it, ending in a sigh. “Let’s start over, can I help you with anything, sweetheart? I grabbed your mail from your mailbox. It looks like snow and I didn’t think you wanted it to get wet. Like the examples of wedding invitations my mother sent for us to review.”
I rolled my eyes. “Her granddaughter and I are making them.”
“I told her. She doesn’t think you and Claudia will have enough time to make that many invitations.”
“It’s not that many.” Or at least it hadn’t been. I told Ted’s mom numerous times we were having a small family wedding. I didn’t need the addresses of all her coworkers. I stared at Ted.
He flushed and gazed at the floor, retreating into the living room and placing the mail onto the coffee table.
She added people. “Didn’t you tell her we couldn’t accommodate any more guests?”
“Yes, and she listened as well as she always does.”
Ugh. Odessa Roget was one stubborn woman.
The oven buzzed.
“Please take the meatloaf and the rolls out of the oven.”
Ted’s stomach rumbled. “Everything smells great. Meatloaf is one of my favorites.”
“One of Cheryl’s also.”
Ted’s phone trilled. He glanced down, removed it from his clip, and rushed out the back door. “Have to take this.”
A conversation I wasn’t allowed to hear meant it was about the case. Ted paced around my backyard. Ol’ Yowler, the once upon a stray that was now my cat, sat on a deck chair, his yellow tail swishing back and forth as he watched Ted.
I pulled the items out of the oven before they burned then continued with preparing the mashed potatoes. I added some milk and butter into the potatoes then plugged in the mixer and started whisking away. The motor hummed, the sound almost comforting. I added in some butter. I like my potatoes super fluffy. After the potatoes were done, I scanned the refrigerator for a vegetable. Nothing. In the freezer, I discovered some green beans.
Since Hope married Chief Moore on Christmas Eve, Cheryl and I switched back and forth on who prepared dinner. Tonight it was my turn, and I wanted to make a proper one as the last few times my nights to cook consisted of sandwiches, take out, or frozen lasagna.
The front door opened. “I had some lettuce and tomatoes to use up,” Grandma Cheryl’s voice carried from the front door to the kitchen, “so I made us a salad. I hope you don’t mind. My goodness what a day. I told Sierra she could not bring her boys to work with her. I thought the oldest and youngest were going to tear up the storage room. Thankfully, Hank’s brother was in town and stopped by to get them.”
I’d save the frozen green beans I was going to microwave for another day. “Not at all, Grandma. A salad will go perfectly with the meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
I heard a sharp intake of breath, a mix of a gasp of outrage and utter shock.
“Don’t worry Grandma, they’re homemade not instant.”
She made the sound again. Whatever was shocking her sensibilities, she wanted me to know about it. Shuffling my feet, I headed for the foyer. What had I done?
Cheryl held a hand over her heart, staring at Ted’s overnight bag—which he left by the front door—as if it was a snake about to strike. “What is that?”
The man should’ve known better than to leave it there. I’d have claimed it was mine, but Roget was embroidered on it. Could I pass it off as a wedding gift? What if my grandmother decided to open the bag and check it out? I’d hate for her to unzip it and be greeted by Ted’s underwear. Ted’s conversation better wrap up quickly. If anyone deserved to witness my grandmother’s coming hissy fit, it was him. He was the one insisting I needed a bodyguard tonight, not me.
“A bag,” I said, giving a proper answer but avoiding the true question my grandma was being polite not to ask. Why was Ted’s bag in my home, giving the appearance he was spending the night, an activity forbidden until the “I dos” were said?
She narrow-eyed me. “Don’t sass me, young lady.”
I opened my mouth to say I wasn’t acting a smarty pants, but I gave up before I started. I knew my grandmother wouldn’t buy it. “Ted’s over.”
“Did something break? Is that what he uses as a toolbox?” Cheryl crossed her arms and looked down her nose at me. She performed haughty very well. “If it is, I know what to get my future grandson for his birthday.”
Now who was being cheeky? I wanted to say yes, but I’d get caught in the lie the moment it left my mouth. I wasn’t very good at covering up fibs. “No, it’s not grandma.”
The back door creaked open. Good. Ted can explain why his overnight bag was in my house.
“I think I’ll ask Ted what this is about.” Cheryl took out her iPhone and snapped a quick picture.
I groaned. Wonderful. She was snapping a proof picture. Hopefully, she planned on sending it to Hope and not Ted’s mom. Then again, Odessa was more liberal than my grandmothers and wouldn’t consider Ted spending the night at my house scandalous. Though, she’d give him a verbal beat down for disrespecting my grandmothers. I sat on the arm of the couch.
“Good evening, Cheryl.”
“I don’t know if it is.” She centered her haughty look on him.
He sent a confused one my way. I drifted my gaze to his bag, my grandmother, and then back to him. After a millisecond, his eyes widened. He got it. He smiled apologetically.
“I had thought it would be a good idea for me to spend the night here.”
“Did you now?” Cheryl uncrossed her arms, planting her hands on her hips. “Pray tell, why exactly did you feel it was a good idea for you to arrange a sleepover with my granddaughter? You two didn’t run off and get married today, did you?”
This was getting worse and worse. I stared hard at Ted, a cross between a plea and a dare. Don’t tell my grandmother the truth. I didn’t want her worrying about me.
“No, ma’am. We’d never do that to you and Hope.”
Grandma’s expression softened a bit. “Your overnight bag is here because you plan on staying the night. I’m not mistaking that.”
“You’re correct.”
Grandma’s lips fell back into a surly frown.
Ted rushed into an explanation. “The only contention between Faith and I is where we’ll live after we’re married. One of us will be moving in with the other, and I suggested to Faith we kind of Goldilocks and Three Bear it.”
Grandma tilted her head to the side. “I don’t quite understand.”
Neither did I, but I couldn’t admit it without clueing Cheryl in to the fact we were making this up on the fly.
“We figured it was best to try both houses out. Kind of like how Goldilocks tried all three porridges and beds until she found the one that was just right. Our plan is to see how living here feels for a day or two then do the same experiment at my house.”
“Today is day one here. The plan was Ted coming here today after work, we’d cook a dinner for you, just like we plan to do when we’re married,” I added. “It’s the best way for us to find out which house fits us best.”
“We want to make sure our choice will also accommodate Claire,” Ted said. “So—”
Grandma beamed and clapped her hands like a child getting an unexpected present. “You wanted me here so I can be her. How fun! We’ll have a sleepover tonight. I’ll stay in the guest room while Ted sleeps down here.”
Ted and I exchanged panicked glances. That wasn’t the conclusion either of us envisioned. We had to roll with it or tell her the truth—and break her heart. She was so excited abo
ut what she thought we planned.
“Exactly,” I said, being the first to gather up some wits.
“I’ll run home and gather up some things and be right back,” Cheryl practically gushed. “I can’t wait to tell Hope about this wonderful evening you both planned for me. I was feeling so lonely lately.” She patted our cheeks lovingly and rushed out the door.
I felt horrible...and guilty. Why hadn’t I noticed how lonely grandma was without her best friend?
My heart twisted. Either Ted or I had to sell our place. I had pushed this truth far from my mind, not wanting to contemplate what it meant. My home was one of the ties I had to my parents who died when I was an infant. Could I leave it for good? I slid from the arm of the sofa onto the cushion.
Ted dropped down beside me and wrapped me in his arms. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know if I can leave here.” I swiped at the tears blurring my vision. I hated crying. I wanted Ted and me to make a solid, rational decision, not for him to cave because I cried. I never wanted to be a woman who used tears to get her way. I wasn’t trying to sway Ted with a few well-timed tears and sniffles, yet it still bothered me. I prided myself on being stronger than that.
Ted rested his chin on my head. “No one says you have to. You do have a guest room. It can become Claire’s room, and since your grandmothers live in town, it’s not like we’d have to put them up in a hotel or the two of us have to bunk on the couch.”
“You love your house.”
“I’m used to it.”
“Claire loves it. She helped you pick it out.”
“Once I explain it to Claire, she’ll understand.” Ted kissed my forehead.
“I only have two rooms. If we have a child, she’d have to share. That’s not fair to her.”
“Honey, we’ll work it all out.”
“I can get an organizing unit for craft supplies and put it in a corner of the dining room. I’ve seen some that are like a wardrobe and when you open it, there’s a small table for crafting.”
“Then you and Claire won’t have a special space to create together.”
“We can use the dining room table for crafting when she’s over.”
“There’s a table in the kitchen. No need for multiple dining spaces.”
“There’s not enough room in the kitchen for us to have all of our families over.” I leaned into Ted.
The front door started to open. “We still have a few months to work it out,” Ted said. “We’ll put a pin in this discussion until later.”
“I’m going to the kitchen. I don’t want grandma seeing me upset.” I sprang from the couch so my grandmother didn’t notice any of my sadness. “Let me get to serving.”
“I’ll take that upstairs for you, Cheryl,” Ted said. “I was wondering if you have any ideas on how we could rearrange spaces so Claire has a room, Faith has an office, we can hold family dinners, and both my girls can scrapbook together. Claire is thrilled to have a partner in crafting.”
“I’d love to. Matter-of-fact, I have a few thoughts whirling in my head right now. Have you considered converting the attic into a craft room or an office?”
My heart soared. For all his gruff exterior, and impatience he showed, Ted was understanding, encouraging, and the most willing to compromise person I knew. Considering our rough beginning together—him considering me an interfering menace and me believing him a bossy, know-it-all wanting to throw me in prison—who’d have thought we’d fall in love.
Life at times threw some amazing curve balls, and I was thrilled Ted and I could catch it instead of letting it drop.
Twenty
“Good night, you two.” Grandma Cheryl stopped halfway up the stairs and looked down on us. “I’m sure I’ll hear you tucking yourself in shortly, Faith.”
Ted covered his mouth, hiding his grin. A lecture without an official lecture.
“Yes, you will,” I said. “I plan to finish cleaning up from our cropping session.”
“Very responsible of you, my dear.” Cheryl blew me a kiss and headed for the guest bedroom.
“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t help my soon-to-be bride.” Ted stacked all the sheets of cardstock into a neat pile.
A shiver of delight worked its way up and down my spine.
The bedroom door closed.
“How about a goodnight kiss?” Ted’s eyes gleamed as he reeled me into his arms. As I tilted my head up, he lowered his mouth to mine.
It was a lovely, breathtaking kiss. I wound my arms around his neck, fastening our lips together in a more eager kiss. My mind reminded me my grandmother was upstairs, and I drew back, hating to break the contact. I rested my head on his chest, enjoying the embrace. In a few months, every night would be like this, minus my grandmother Cheryl, and we’d be able to finish every romantic moment we started.
Ted’s phone rang. Reluctantly, he let me go. “Detective Roget.” His body tensed and he pulled back from me, his expression grim.
A work call. My mind went to Sierra then to the bones that were dug up.
“It’s a positive ID. There’s no chance it can be someone else.” There was a long pause. “Yes, I’ll do the notification.”
The body had been identified. Who was it? My heart thudded.
He ended the call. “I have to go speak with Gussie. Would you mind coming with me?”
Tears filled my eyes. Poor Gussie. “It’s Ollie?”
“Yes.”
Light snow fell to the ground. The tires crunched over it as Ted drove down Gussie’s driveway. The moon was out, highlighting the whole area. Gussie’s small cottage style house looked so pretty and inviting with the porch light on and small piles of white, unmarred snow glittering around it. Christmas lights were still strung on the roof, adding to the welcoming atmosphere. I hated we were about to ruin her night.
And the next coming days for her. Gussie didn’t deserve this.
Ted had a stranglehold on the steering wheel. The road wasn’t too slick so I figured his grip had more to do with the coming task than the road. How many notifications had Ted done?
I’d never really thought about it, but this had to be a horrible part of Ted’s job, notifying someone that a loved one was dead. Then again, he was a homicide detective, there probably wasn’t a good part of his job.
“You ready?” Ted asked, turning off the engine.
I nodded.
We got out of the car. Ted walked around to me, and I slipped my hand in his. Together, we walked the few feet to Gussie’s front door, neither of his speaking, dreading the coming moments.
The front door had a small heart-shaped wreath hung on it. An empty wrought iron planter stand was in the corner, the iron twisted into filigree hearts, awaiting spring. Gussie loved love even though she hadn’t fared very well in it. Or maybe she would’ve if someone hadn’t killed Ollie.
Taking in a deep breath and slowly releasing it, Ted knocked on the door, following it with ringing the doorbell. “I’m hoping not to startle her too much.”
Standing on her porch at ten o’clock was going to do that. She wouldn’t think we were stopping by to go house hunting or place an offer on the place she showed me earlier today. Had that been today? Exhaustion swept over me, and I leaned into Ted. I wanted the day to end, hopeful tomorrow would be better.
At least for us. Gussie’s would already be ruined.
After a few moments of us standing out in the cold, Gussie opened the door. Sadness seemed to ooze from her. She stepped aside to let us in, twisting the strap of her robe. “I’m taking it you have news for me.”
The walls of her living room were lavender with a white crown molding. A sofa upholstered in mint green, purple, and white flowered print took up much of the space. Large throw pillows were near the fireplace, and an aging golden Labrador retriever was stretch
ed out, enjoying the heat from the fire. The dog lifted its head, looked at us then Gussie. The dog lumbered to its feet and padded over to Gussie, leaning into her.
She stroked the dog’s head.
“Let’s have a seat.” Ted gestured toward the couch.
Gussie shook her head. “Please, just tell me. Whatever it is, I know it’s not good news.”
“We’ve identified the body,” Ted said. “It’s Ollie Harbaugh. I’m so sorry.”
Gussie wobbled, her knees giving in a fraction before she straightened. I hurried to her side. She shooed at me, not wanting any physical contact. “Is it certain?” Her mouth trembled.
“Yes,” Ted said.
“Do you have any idea what happened to Ollie?” The hand not petting the dog fisted at her side.
“The medical examiner says there’s a crack in the skull, and it appears caved in. It wasn’t done by the excavator.”
“He was murdered. He was bludgeoned to death.” Anger snapped in her eyes. “All these years I thought he choose to leave me. He didn’t. He was made to.”
“We’ll find who did it, Gussie,” Ted said. “I promise.”
“I have no doubt who murdered my Ollie.” Instead of grief, there was fury in her voice. A low rumbled emitted from the dog.
I eased away from Gussie and the aging dog who now appeared stronger and not so fragile. The dog was preparing to defend its owner.
“Who?” Ted had slipped a small notebook and a pen from his pocket. A homicide detective must always go everywhere prepared to take a statement.
“Donald Lucas. Or as you know him, Graves.”
Twenty-One
Gussie paced around the waiting room in the police station. For once, I tried talking someone out of confronting a possible murderer and advising them to do what Ted usually told me, stay put. Those words had the same effect on Gussie as when others did it to me. Not at all. The only thing I could do was hitch a ride with Gussie to the police station. She had been willing to just leave me at her house all alone.
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