The Gray-Haired Knitting Detective Series: (Books 1 - 3)

by D. E. Haggerty

  The reporter is just winding up with her segment. Her face, along with the small photo of the man I recognized, is replaced with that of the news anchor. “That was Cindy Shepard, reporting from the courthouse.” He continues with the news, but whatever report Cindy Shepard had made isn’t mentioned again.

  When the news cuts out for a commercial break, everyone stares at me. “Who was that man?” Jack asks.

  I shrug. “I don’t remember his name, but I know he’s been to my house for dinner. Well, not my house but Brock’s penthouse.”

  “And now he was on the news?” Jack questions and I just shrug in response. Obviously, he was just on the news. We all saw his picture.

  “What was he on the news for?” Damien asks, but again I just shrug. Really, I don’t know anything more than they do.

  Izzy grabs her phone. “We’re not going to figure anything out by just staring at each other.” She huffs. “Here it is.” She puts the phone to her ear. “Hi!” Her voice is beyond bubbly when she starts to speak. “We just saw the news and we were wondering if it’s possible to talk to the reporter…” She falters and looks to me. I mouth Cindy Shepard.

  Izzy repeats the name and is put on hold. She grabs a huge handful of peanuts and starts to munch on them while she waits. “Um… Ms. Shepard,” she says and nearly chokes on her peanuts. Jack slaps her none too gently on the back while she clears her throat. “Yes, we just saw your reportage and we’re wondering if we can talk to you.” “Well, a friend of mine knows him.” “That’s great.” “See you then.”

  Izzy hangs up the phone and squeals. “We’ve got an appointment with her on Monday. She wants to interview you!” She claps in excitement.

  My heartbeat speeds up and I throw out my hands in defense. “Um, no, I’m not doing an interview. Are you crazy?” I screech at her. She just shrugs.

  “How else are we going to find out who that man was?”

  I roll my eyes at her. “I don’t care who he was. I just said I knew him was all.”

  Jack steps in. “You also said he’d had dinner at your house with you and Brock.”

  I shrug. “Yeah, so?”

  Jack sighs and shakes his head. “Don’t you see? This could be a clue about Brock’s murder.”

  “I don’t see how. He’s just some guy I once had dinner with. Maybe twice,” I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter.”

  Jack is clearly exasperated now. “He was on the news. The crime news. He’s a bad guy. And he was having dinner at your house with your investment broker husband.”

  “Oh,” I think I get it now.

  “Now she gets it,” Jack says to Damien, who’s also shaking his head at me. I shrug. I’m not a detective. So sue me!

  Izzy’s phone pings and she bounces in her barstool in excitement. “It’s here.” She looks around the crowded bar and gets off her seat. “Come on, we can’t hear anything in here. Let’s go outside.” She waddles outside and we follow her to her car. When we’re all seated inside, she hits play on the YouTube video so we can watch the news report we just missed.

  The clip is only three minutes, but, by the time it ends, I’m blinking furiously and trying to keep my eyes from bugging completely out of my face. What the heck was Brock up to? Why was someone associated with the mob having dinner at our house? I’m beyond shocked. Brock couldn’t be involved with the mob. He just couldn’t be. He played golf at the country club every Sunday for gosh sakes.

  Clapping penetrates my confused and foggy brain and I look up to see Jack and Damien smiling at me. Izzy is, of course, the one clapping. “This is awesome! He probably killed Brock. We’re going to have you cleared in no time!”

  “Seriously? You don’t know that.”

  Jack grabs my hand and Damien puts his hand on my shoulder. “This is really good news, Dee. If Brock was involved with the mob, there’s no way you’re going to be convicted of his murder.”

  I nod. Of course they’re right, but it doesn’t take away the fact that I didn’t know my husband. At all.

  Chapter 26

  “All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt.” Dr. Seuss

  I’m in my pajamas with my hair doing an incredibly authentic impression of a rat’s nest when the doorbell rings on Sunday morning just before noon. I’m still staying at Izzy and Noel’s house, but by the time the doorbell rings for the third time, I conclude they’re not around. Reluctantly, I shuffle down the stairs to open the door and find a smiling Tommy waiting on the porch. He’s wearing dress slacks and a button-down shirt. I’m guessing he just came from church, but what is he doing here? He pushes his way in, leans down to give me a quick peck on the cheek, and walks to the kitchen table where he sets down a picnic basket.

  “What’s going on?” I finally find my voice.

  “I’m taking you on a picnic.” He tilts his head towards the basket.

  I point to myself. “I’m not really dressed for going out.”

  Tommy shrugs. “So? Change then. I’ll wait.” He doesn’t hang around for my response but moves to the living room and plops down on the couch looking for the remote control.

  “You’re not going to go away, are you?” I huff.

  “Nope,” he answers as his eyes remained glued on the sports program every member of the male species seems able to find in a blink of the eye.

  I decide stomping my foot would be childish so I just huff again – because that’s not childish –and turn around to go take a shower. I hear Tommy laughing as I walk up the stairs. Guess it’s going to be an extra-long shower then today. Thirty minutes later I emerge from the bathroom dressed in jeans, a long t-shirt, and flip-flops. I’ll never admit it, but I am feeling much better.

  When I enter the living room, Tommy smiles and quickly stands. “Good, you’re ready.” He glances at his watch. “We need to get out of here now if we want to miss the knitting club.”

  “What?” My eyes widen at the thought of another ambush by the grandmas.

  “It’s Sunday” is Tommy’s only explanation, but it’s enough. I nearly slap my forehead when I remember it’s Izzy’s turn to host the knitting group this afternoon. The location of the knitting concave changes each week, but at least once a month they meet at Izzy’s to partake in her famous lemonade. I grab the picnic basket and rush to the front door. Tommy’s chuckling behind me, but he keeps up.

  Tommy drives to a park just outside of the city. We climb out of his jeep and he finds a location away from running children and nosey neighbors where he spreads the plaid blanket that was stuffed in the picnic basket. I throw off my flip-flops and collapse on the blanket. I lace my hands behind my head and watch the clouds float by. It doesn’t take long for Tommy to disturb the peace.

  “So,” he says. “I have tomorrow off.”

  “That’s nice,” I say, confused about why he’s giving me his schedule.

  “Do you want to do something together?” Ah, there’s the reason. I turn to him and see his face is angry. “I take it you know.” He nods. “Nothing’s a secret in this town.”

  “Small town.” He says with a shrug. “But you should have told me. Brock has mob connections! This is dangerous.” I sigh. “I’m coming with you.” And that, right there, is why I didn’t tell him.

  I turn to again stare at the clouds above and hold back the growl building in my throat. Growling is definitely not ladylike. “I don’t need you to come. We’re just meeting with a reporter. I can take care of myself.”

  Tommy sighs and reaches out to grab my hand. I let him since he’s angry and all. “I know you can. I just don’t want you to have to.” Darn it! That’s kind of sweet. “Anyway, Noel can’t go so he wants me to go with you.”

  This is news to me. “Why can’t Noel come with us?”

  Tommy shrugs as if the answer is self-explanatory. Maybe it is to him. Not to me. “He’s a police-officer. He can’t talk to a reporter about an ongoing case without clearance.”

  “Can’t he talk to
her off-the-record?” I see that on television all the time.

  Tommy chuckles and shakes his head. “Nah. You can’t trust reporters.” He stares me down. “Remember that, yeah? You can’t trust her. She will try to get all kinds of information out of you and she’ll use it against you.”

  Wow. Someone has an issue with reporters. I snort. “What? Your ex-girlfriend a reporter or something?” Tommy’s face pales and I immediately stop the laugh bubbling up. “Shoot. I’m sorry. I was just joking.”

  “It’s okay. It’s old news.” I giggle. “Besides, I have my sights on someone else now.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

  I shake my head. “Can we talk about something else? Other than people thinking I murdered my husband?”

  I take a deep breath of relief when Tommy responds. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Tell me a secret about yourself.”

  Tommy doesn’t hesitate. “I was a scrawny kid until I was a junior in high school when I hit my growth spurt. I was teased all through school.”

  I wave my hand in dismissal at him. “Boring. Every hot guy says that.”

  Tommy shrugs. “Well, it’s gotta be true sometimes.”

  I turn on my side to watch Tommy with my head resting on my hand and try to think of a personal question to ask. “Why did you want to become a firefighter?”

  “I don’t know.” Another shrug. “I’ve just always been fascinated with fire and I wanted to do something to help people. Something that would make a difference.”

  “Fascinated with fire, eh? Were you one of those kids that started fires to see what would happen?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

  He chuckles but shakes his head no. “There was a fire in my neighborhood when I was young. I was just six or seven and I had a major crush on this girl who lived down the street. I saw a firefighter run into the smoking house and bring her back out in his arms. That’s when I knew that I was going to be a hero.”

  “Ahhh,” I lay back down and stare at the clouds. “So you did it all for a girl?”

  Tommy laughs next to me and grabs my hand. I try to pull away, but Tommy isn’t taking any prisoners. “Yeah,” he admits. “That’s how it started anyway, but I like working outside. I enjoy the training and I really like trying to figure out the puzzle of how the fire started.”

  “Do you investigate arsons and stuff?”

  He nods. “Yeah, but that doesn’t happen a lot around here. Mostly it’s a faulty wire or a cigarette left burning. Sometimes a forgotten iron.”

  “So, what about you?” Tommy turns the tables on me. “Aren’t you starting some sort of online business that Izzy’s helping with? What’s that?”

  “I haven’t really been working on it right now. What with the whole being suspected of murdering my husband thing.” That makes me a bit angry. I’ve been dreaming of starting my own business for like forever, but Brock didn’t approve and now my dream is on hold again because of Brock. Even in death he’s an asshat.

  Tommy squeezes my hand. The electricity I feel at his concerned touch is no surprise by now, but it still takes my breath away. “Forget about that for now. Tell me what you want to do.” He sounds genuinely interested, so I relent and tell him.

  “Well, you know how self-publishing of books has completely exploded in the past years?” I start.

  “You mean like e-books and stuff.” He’s really listening. That’s a nice change.

  “Yeah, kinda.” I clear my throat and dive in. “Most of the writers that self-publish don’t have a lot of money for editing, marketing, and such.” I shrug. “I’ve got a degree in English literature and creative writing. I like working with the written word. I think I’d really like editing books. Izzy’s helping me set-up a website and all that online stuff that I don’t understand.”

  “That’s awesome, Dee. I’m sure you’ll be great at it.” He turns to me but keeps my hand firmly encased in his. “Are you going to have an office or work at home?”

  The rest of the afternoon is spent laying on the picnic blanket in the park, holding hands with Tommy, and just talking. It feels so much like a first date that I even allow Tommy to give me a peck on the lips when he drops me off at Izzy’s house in the evening. He smirks as if he knows my defenses are collapsing, but I just quickly turn away from him and run into the house. Even from inside I can hear his chuckles and his whisper. “Friends for now, Dee. For now.”

  Chapter 27

  “I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that I don’t know the answer.” Douglas Adams

  I’m standing in the parking lot of Fabulous, Darling on Monday morning waiting for Tommy to show up. Izzy offered to drive, but Jack nixed the idea saying he didn’t want to travel at the speed of light with a pregnant woman. At exactly 11:30 Tommy drives up. I jump into the front seat before Tommy has a chance to get out and be chivalrous. If I’m going to keep my paws to myself, I need to avoid touching him as much as possible. Why exactly I’m keeping my paws to myself is becoming less and less clear as the days go on.

  “Who’s that in the back seat?” I smirk as I ask Tommy.

  Tommy raises an eyebrow at me, not sure what’s going on. “It’s Jack and Izzy. Who else would it be?”

  I slap my forehead. “Oh sorry. I didn’t recognize Jack without his lips and hips being attached to Damien.”

  I turn to see Izzy lick her finger and then wiggle it at Jack while pretending to sizzle. Jack just stares at me. “Did our little girl just make her first joke?” He puts one hand on his heart and grabs Izzy’s hand with the other one. “I’m so proud.” He bats his eyelashes as if holding back tears.

  Tommy turns to me and smiles. “Yes, I think she did.” He starts up the jeep and drives off. I’m a bit floored by their reaction. Do I really joke so little? Time to change the subject.

  “So how did you manage to avoid the grandma brigade following us today, Izzy?” I ask to avoid the uncomfortable void left in my chest.

  Izzy clears her throat while Jack laughs. I turn in my seat and raise an eyebrow at Jack. “She didn’t tell them!”

  My eyes nearly bug out. “How did you manage that? Weren’t they over yesterday for knitting club?”

  Izzy nods while her face continues to turn pink. “Noel didn’t want them to know. He’s afraid of what they’ll do if they get their hands on a reporter.” I snort. I’ve had the same thoughts myself.

  “So she instigated Operation Nursery,” Jack confesses.

  “Operation Nursery?”

  Izzy shrugs. “I showed off the nursery and asked their opinion on everything from cloth diapers to rocking chairs.”

  Jack’s laughing now. “It totally worked too. They gave her tons of advice. Well, until they started arguing and bickering. Izzy begged off with a headache and went to hide in her bedroom.” He turns to glare at her. “Left the whole gang with me and Noel.”

  “I’m sure you and Noel can handle a couple of old ladies.”

  “You have met the grandmas, right?” Jack says and Tommy shivers.

  ♥♥♥

  I look at Tommy in surprise when he pulls into a restaurant parking lot. “Aren’t we meeting the reporter at the news station?”

  “Nope,” Izzy shouts from the back seat as she maneuvers herself out of the jeep. “I said I wanted to do this on the down low. Off the record, you know.”

  Tommy snorts in disbelief but doesn’t say anything. He grabs my hand as we walk towards the restaurant. I raise an eyebrow at him. He gives me such a pained look that I don’t dare say anything. Obviously, there’s more to the ex-girlfriend story than he’s willing to say. I shrug and allow him to hold my hand. It’s not like I’m going to jump him in public just because holding his hand makes my hormones go wild. Or am I? I really need to get myself in control.

  A woman dressed in a silk blouse and tight pencil skirt is standing to the side of the hostess station. She grabs a leather satchel from the floor as she sees us enter. “I’m Cind
y Shepard,” she says and holds out her hand. “You’re here to talk about Saturday’s crime report?”

  Everyone waits for me to respond. I gulp and reach forward to shake her hand. She smiles at me and quickly gives my hand a shake. “I have a private table reserved. Follow me.” She leads us through the restaurant to the back where there’s an unoccupied table in the corner. She sits down and motions us to sit as well.

  A waitress immediately comes to the table and takes our drinks order. “They know me here, so we’ll be given some privacy.” I’m getting a little nervous with Cindy’s obvious comfort with the situation, but she doesn’t give me any time to mull over the situation. “Now, you’re Delilah Clark, right?”

  I nod. “These are my friends Izzy, Jack, and Tommy.” Considering Tommy’s aversion to reporters, I don’t give any last names. My voice wobbles a bit and I feel Tommy’s hand reach across to find my thigh. He squeezes in support. “Can we just talk? I don’t want to be interviewed or anything.” My voice continues to squeak.

  Cindy smiles. “That’s fine for now.” Before I get a chance to ask what ‘for now’ means, the waitress arrives with our drinks and to take our food orders. I haven’t had a chance to look at the menu. Cindy sees me grab for the menu and offers to order on my behalf. I shrug. It’s not like I’m going to be able to eat anything anyway.

  “Why don’t I tell you what I know about Michael Fitzpatrick and you can fill me in on how you know him?” Cindy isn’t wasting any time.

  “Mickey?” I wonder out loud.

  Cindy tilts her head in interest at my mumbling. “Yes, he was known as Michael ‘Mickey’ Fitzpatrick. He was indicted on Friday for loansharking, bookmaking, and illegal gambling. I’m convinced he has ties to the Irish mob.”

  “The Irish mob? We’re not in Chicago or Boston or something.” I take a deep breath before trying again. “I mean I know there are lots of gangs in OKC but the mob?”