Suddenly, she stopped. Something wasn’t right. Her front door stood open by at least a foot, and Grace knew it was locked when she left in the morning. Del Novak? No, he would never leave a door unlocked and open. She stopped in her tracks and considered what to do. Someone might still be in there. She remembered the letter she’d gotten at the newspaper. What if the writer had been serious? She felt a lump in her throat and tried to swallow.
What should she do? Go in? What if the intruder had a gun? Call Jake Williams? Then she remembered TJ’s cat was inside. If anything had happened to that animal, TJ would never forgive her. She took short, anxious breaths and set her briefcase on a snow bank, deciding she would investigate herself. Then she had a better idea. Turning around and marching back to the garage, she grabbed a baseball bat just inside the door. She practiced swinging it and decided it would be better without her mittens. A direct hit was more important than frostbite. I’m not very threatening with this, but no one else knows that, she thought. She turned and quietly crunched her way through the snow and back to the front door, leaning over to make a smaller target. She couldn’t see any movement inside, but she could hear her breath as well as see it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Grace crept up on the porch, baseball bat in both hands. She peered around the open door, but saw and heard nothing. Becoming a trifle bolder, she moved the door a few inches and slid in as quietly as she could. Her coat brushed against the door handle and moved the door still farther, producing a creaking noise. But when the door stopped, all was quiet. No lights were on, so it was like looking into a cave. As she tiptoed down the hallway, she saw small puddles of water on the tile floor, indicating someone had been there or was still there.
If they have guns, they might kill me. Her hands shook on the bat handle, and her heart pounded. She stopped and listened. Nothing.
“Eliot?” She called out softly. “Here, kitty, kitty.” Still she heard nothing. She reached over to the wall and flipped the switch. Suddenly, the hallway and living room were flooded with comforting light, and she waited. Nothing. Keeping the bat in front of her, she walked around the corner of the hallway wall and into the living room. She stopped cold and couldn’t believe her eyes at the shocking sight. All was in total chaos. Sofa cushions flung hither and yon with huge gashes in them; lamps lying on the floor, glass from their bulbs dashed into pieces; papers and magazines from the coffee table torn into shreds and scattered everywhere; photographs ripped up and the glass from their frames smashed; and a small end table turned upside down, its contents strewn across the floor. Grace’s chest tightened, and her breathing came in quick gasps. Her legs shook in a nervous rhythm, and she put the tip of the bat on the floor to steady herself. So far it was totally quiet, and Grace decided whoever had come in was now gone.
“Eliot!” she called out again. She walked slowly into the dining room, which didn’t seem to be quite as damaged as the living room since most of the kitchen items were boxed up and stacked in heavy piles. The family room and office were another story. Turning on lights as she went, Grace found most of her family photos destroyed, even the one of Roger which sat on the bookshelf in her office. Her lip quivered, and tears welled up in her eyes. Why? Why would someone do something so hurtful? Then tears streamed down her face. She couldn’t look any longer, and she turned away, walking forward to the kitchen. It had sustained relatively little damage because Del had already stripped it down to nothing.
“Eliot?” she called out again, in a strangled, weepy voice. Then she stood perfectly still. She could barely hear it, but some soft scratching noises started and stopped. She waited for them to start again so she could figure out where they originated. Then she heard the sound—a soft scraping noise—and she walked over to the pantry. She opened the door and a huge “meow” greeted her. Eliot tore out of the pantry as if the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow were on his tail. Grace saw him race out to the living room and slink under the sofa.
“Oh, thank goodness. I don’t think my friendship with TJ would have survived a dead cat,” Grace said out loud. “So much for assuming he was a good burglar alarm cat.” She walked back to the hallway, studiously avoiding a glance at her office, and picked up the hallway phone. The police station number was in her head since she often called TJ there if she couldn’t get her on her cell. When Myers the desk cop answered, she asked for Jake Williams.
“So, the insurance guy and the cops have come and gone?” said Jeff, as they sat in her dining room, ate Chinese takeout food, and commiserated about Grace’s house. “I don’t think you should stay here tonight. Whoever did this may return.”
“I’ll be all right,” Grace said, and she used her chopsticks to stuff some shrimp and rice in her mouth. She chewed it slowly, swallowed, and said, “Whoever did this is long gone. It was just like the letter I got at the newspaper. They want to scare me off. This means we are on to something about Folger’s death. Besides, I’m all over my sadness and into my anger phase. No one is going to run me out of my house.”
“Grace, whoever is doing this is becoming more out of control. This destruction is much worse than an anonymous letter. Maybe we should back off a bit and have TJ deal with everything. I can cover any leads on the story, and we’ll distance you from it as far as bylines.”
Grace put her chopsticks down, wiped her mouth with her napkin, and looked directly at Jeff. “I’ll be fine. The things they destroyed can be replaced. Even Roger’s picture and the other ones can be replaced. I have either the negatives or the originals on my computer or on CDs. Besides, Jake Williams said they’d step up patrols around my house this evening. TJ should be back tomorrow, and she’ll know what to do.”
He put his hand over hers on the table top. “Sorry I’ve been a little quiet lately. I may have to go on a trip, and I would be gone, possibly, a week—some unfinished business needing to be taken care of.”
Grace thought she could cut the stillness with a knife. He wasn’t going to say anything else. What was with this guy and his secrets? “Who will watch the newspaper?”
“I think between you and the others I’ve hired, we’ll be all right. Unless something big breaks in the murder case, it will be business as usual. TJ isn’t exactly moving at the speed of light on this.”
“It’s only been a couple of weeks. Usually she works meticulously and builds the evidence so she has a tight case.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “It will be interesting to hear what she found out when she gets back from Chicago.” Again, a silence lay over the table, and Grace felt as if she couldn’t breathe.
“Well,” he looked at his watch. “You sure you’ll be okay here tonight?”
“Yes. I have Eliot the wonder attack cat with me.”
“Small good he did in the pantry.”
“I’ll be fine. I may teach Eliot to dial 9-1-1. Thanks. I really do appreciate your concern, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
They both rose, and Jeff moved toward her and took her in his arms. He planted a firm, but tender kiss on her lips, and Grace wondered if she had imagined his recent preoccupation.
“I’m worried about your safety, Grace, but I have to go. Don’t have a choice. I won’t be gone long, and I’ll call you.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Late tomorrow. I’ll make sure everything is organized and in good shape at the paper before I go. I’ll be back in no time. Meanwhile, don’t do anything crazy. Take care of yourself and watch over your shoulder. We don’t know who’s doing this.”
“Yes, Jeff. I won’t take any chances. Now, go home and do your packing or whatever you need to do.” She walked him to the door, kissed him again, and watched his back as he walked down the sidewalk.
Later, after she cleaned up the food cartons on the dining room table, Grace went upstairs. She changed into her pajamas, climbed into bed, and reviewed the day. She and Jeff had at least cleared up the mess in the family room and the office. Maybe Deb and Jill could help h
er with the rest tomorrow before Lettie arrived from the hospital. Then she considered Jeff. Why all the secrecy about where he was going? Deb O’Hara’s right. He is a mystery man. I wonder if he has the location set on his phone so I could track him.
She pulled the covers up and thought about the morning. Tomorrow’s another day, and I have to prepare myself for Lettie’s arrival. She’ll need someone to watch over her and keep her from overdoing for a few days at least. Grace turned out the light by her bed and was asleep by the time her head hit the pillow.
Outside on the street, a dark car sat parked, its engine idling in the cold. Jake Williams took another sip of his coffee and settled in for a long, chilly night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
On Friday morning Grace sat and watched the midday news in her family room, listening for any sign of Lettie needing help. Her mind was only half on the news because her brain kept reviewing the events of the crowded day over and over. She had picked Lettie up at the hospital and brought her back to Sweet-briar Court late in the morning. No way was Lettie able to stay by herself for a while. She was taking pain medicine, and she was on crutches. But no broken bones, just a very painful sprain. Grace made her a bed on the pull-out sofa in the office because trying to walk upstairs to the bedroom would have been exhausting. She started to think about lunch when she suddenly realized with a shock, “Egads! I don’t have a cook anymore.” It just dawned on her how much Lettie did for her on a daily basis.
Lunch. She considered what to do about the meal and was headed for the kitchen when a knock came at the front door, and she turned back to answer it. Grace opened the door and looked out at a group of about fifteen people, including Del Novak. They carried boxes and bundles of casseroles and all manner of food, and some held buckets, mops, and trash bags.
“Heard you need a bit of help,” said Mildred, Lettie’s friend from the bakery. “So we’re all organized and will fix the damage in no time.”
Grace looked at them, her astonishment obvious. In fact, her mouth was open, but no words came out. Then she said, “But how—how did you hear about the break-in?”
“Are you kidding? Lettie texted us as soon as she heard about it. That girl doesn’t let any grass grow under her feet. We’re all on her speed dial.”
“And,” said Gladys, who worked at the coffee shop, “we have enough food for the next week or so, but we’re organized to deliver up to three weeks after that. People signed for time slots to bring food when they heard Lettie was laid up.” She leaned over and whispered in Grace’s ear. “Don’t worry, hon, your cooking secret is safe with me.”
“Well, come in, come in,” Grace said, and she smiled as she opened the door wider, relief evident in her voice. At least neither she nor Lettie would starve to death, a fate Grace had worried about when she considered that Lettie wouldn’t be able to stand up or move around for some time. She watched as they filed in, Del the last one through the door. They disposed of jackets and hats and scarves, and the elderly contractor carried them upstairs with help from Deb O’Hara. As the coats came off, Grace noticed they all wore light-blue sweatshirts. Jill Cunningham turned around, and Grace could see the message on the front of their shirts: “Lettie’s Legions.” Grace turned her around and read, “We Work for the Leader of the Pack.”
“Don’t tell me,” Grace said to Gladys. “Someone organized a shirt campaign.”
“Jill Cunningham. She’s really fast,” said Mildred.
“Don’t worry,” said Gladys. “We’ll be out of your hair in no time. We had to check up on the old girl and give her the latest news from around town. And we’ll be back with more food once you run out. I’m sure she’ll text.”
“Well, I don’t know what to say,” Grace said. “Thank you. I’m so grateful.” Suddenly, Grace could hear Lettie’s bell—she had given her a bell to ring for help—clanging furiously.
“Who’s out there?” Lettie yelled.
Grace shook her head, one eyebrow raised, and said, “She’s in the office on the sofa. Through here.” Then everyone filed out of the hallway and into Grace’s office. Only about half of them could get in at a time, so the other half began to clean up the damage from the break-in. Mildred appeared to be in charge, and she led various people into different rooms to clear away the debris.
Grace waited until the second group was done visiting with Lettie, and then she walked into the office and saw Del on a chair next to her laid-up cook.
“Thought maybe you could use a little help with the cleanup,” said Lettie, a smug note in her voice.
“How—?” Grace started to ask.
“Are you kidding? I heard about the break-in from one of my nurses while I was in the hospital. At first I thought it was hallucinations from the pain medicine, but then I decided it was real. So I thought I should organize a little rescue party.” Her voice turned to wonder. “Didn’t know so many people would turn out, though.”
Del patted her hand. “It’s a testimony to how popular you are, my girl.”
Lettie’s face turned red, and she lowered her eyes. Grace noticed she was sitting up on the sofa, her bandaged ankle lying on a pillow—like a potentate reviewing her subjects. Lettie looked at Del Novak and said, “Del, do you think you could be a dear and move this pillow so it’s behind my lower back a little better.”
“Sure, Lettie. Anything.”
“Oh . . . that is perfect. Thank you, Del.” Grace watched Lettie look up at him. The stars were still there.
“Well, I’ll go along and see how they’re doing,” said Grace.
Before she even made it through the door, she heard the jarring clang of the bell. “Oh, and Grace, could you bring me some more water? Thanks, dear.”
This is going to be a very long rehabilitation, Grace thought.
That was in the afternoon. Now the shadows grew darker, and she wondered what Jeff was doing. Packing his bags? Finishing up at the office? Surely he’ll call before he leaves. Actually, her mind went in fifteen different directions. She knew TJ was back because she saw her truck slide into the garage across the street, and then, fifteen minutes later, it backed out again. She’d probably stop by the house tonight. Del had been pounding in the kitchen all afternoon, but Lettie’s demands slowed him down considerably. At this rate, he might still be sawing and drilling in June.
Grace wasn’t used to sitting at home, so she moved restlessly from one window to the other, one eye on the news, but her brain disengaged. It would be easier to type in her office, but Lettie was in there. Now, however, she could hear soft, even snores coming from the doorway. Maybe she should check out the refrigerator and figure out which casserole to warm up.
“Wait a minute,” Grace said to TJ, and she tiptoed over to the office door. She could hear the television blasting some National Geographic show about bears. She hesitated to close the door completely because Lettie might need her. “We should talk softly. Otherwise, anything you say will be all over town. I had a sample of Lettie’s networking power this afternoon.”
TJ laughed. “You are so right. That woman has sources I don’t know, and she doesn’t have to pay them.”
“So,” said Grace. “What happened in Chicago? How does Lansky figure into all this?”
TJ took a swig of her Guinness and smiled at Grace. “Quite a trip. Interesting information. Nothing I would have guessed.”
“When did you get back?”
“Midafternoon. Then I had Sandra Lansky in for questioning. She is one cagey character.”
“Don’t leave me hanging, TJ. What did you find out?”
“I faxed her picture to a couple of contacts I have up there. She has a Chicago address in a rather exclusive neighborhood and apartment building. Super let me in—all nice stuff, and expensive everything. Not sure she has great taste, but she does have money, and the question is from where? It evidently ran out, because she was behind on her rent by two months, and the super was curious to know her whereabouts.”
“
So what did your contacts say?”
“She was a call girl for a high-end escort service, but, for several years now, Conrad Folger has paid her bills.”
“Wow. Emily didn’t know about this.”
“No. When I talked to Lansky, I found out Conrad saw her regularly on what he called ‘business trips,’ but he never let her know how much money he actually had. He took her to expensive restaurants and bought her flowers and lingerie.”
“Did he hurt her like Emily?”
“Don’t think so. She said the sex was rough—sometimes a little too rough—but the relationship was consensual and the money was good until recently.”
“Was she the woman in the bank?”
TJ laughed and nodded her head. “Yes. You were so right on that, Grace.”
“Did he think he could just quit seeing her? How many years had this gone on?”
“At least five. She had a lot invested in the relationship. He promised her he would marry her, but the timing had to be right.”
“Of course, it never was.”
“Correct. I think Will must have known, however. Perhaps after she went to the bank and threatened to expose him, Conrad figured he’d better tell Will. Even though the two of them were competitive, they usually did have each other’s backs.”
Grace thought about the scene she saw in The Depot’s parking lot. Maybe Will tried to buy her off and get her to go away. “What brought this all to a head?”
“I think she got tired of waiting, tired of Conrad’s promises, and concerned that his marriage promise might never happen. Plus, he’d stopped paying her rent. She did confess she threw a vase at him in his office. But beyond that, she says she didn’t kill him.”
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