“We were thinking about having lunch at Velda’s. Want to join us?” Grandpa asked.
“Absolutely.” As usual, lunch options at my house were scarce.
“I’ve been meaning to ask.” Grandpa glanced in the rearview mirror. “You started prepping for taxes yet?” Grandpa had handed all of the bookkeeping tasks over to me when I’d started farming with him.
“No, sir. I’ve barely had time to put the files in order after the break-in.”
He didn’t comment, which was worse than if he’d expressed disapproval.
“Now, Ron, she’s been busy with the church program. She’s got plenty of time to get to it,” Wanda said. “How’s the program going, dear?” She wore her silver hair in a short, asymmetrical cut, which gave her a youthful and energetic appearance.
I twisted Grandma Winston’s amethyst ring that I’d inherited after her death four years ago. She’d always jumped to my defense, and Wanda had begun to fill that role, which meant she was perfect for Grandpa.
“The choir’s ready. I’m going tonight to watch the drama portion. We’ll put everything together on Wednesday and Thursday.”
“We’re looking forward to it,” Wanda said. “My son and daughter-in-law are coming with us Friday night.”
“I’d like to meet them.”
Wanda beamed. “They’re looking forward to meeting you.”
A few minutes later, we rolled into downtown Wildcat Springs, and Grandpa parked in the public lot across the street from Velda’s. A brisk wind hit us as we crossed the street and took refuge in the crowded restaurant. The café’s soft yellow walls displayed historic pictures of Wildcat Springs. Mismatched tables and chairs added to the vintage charm.
Wanda snagged a table while Grandpa and I waited in line to order.
The line moved forward, and I decided the chicken pot pie—on special—would hit the spot on this chilly day.
“I bought a ring,” Grandpa muttered, and for a second, I wondered if I’d heard him correctly, but when I looked at him, his expectant expression pushed that doubt away.
“Cool. For Christmas?” I whispered. Why Grandpa had chosen to drop this information in the middle of Gossipville was beyond me, but I didn’t want him to think I was displeased with his news.
“Yes.”
“Have you told Aunt Rhonda?” My dad’s sister was a dental hygienist and lived with her husband in Indianapolis.
He nodded. “She’s thrilled.” He leaned closer. “I even asked Wanda’s son for permission.”
“He gave it, right?”
“Sure did.” Grandpa lifted his chin.
“Do you need help planning the proposal?” I whispered.
“What now?” He gaped at me and then chuckled. “No. There’s no need for something fancy, especially at our age. All those elaborate proposals make me wonder if you young gals want the relationship or just some romantic experience and a big wedding.
It wasn’t lost on me that he’d said you young gals. Was that why I was having so much trouble picking a gift for Cal? I’d set expectations for myself that were too high—or I’d even been expecting too much of him.
I just needed to relax and quit trying so hard.
After Grandpa and Wanda dropped me off at home, I got in my truck with a sweet tea from Velda’s. I drove to Wildcat Springs Junior-Senior High School where I checked in with Mrs. Sanders. She’d been the secretary when I’d gone to school there, so after telling me about her three grandbabies, she sent me to Evan’s office.
I knocked on his doorframe. “Hey. Mrs. Sanders told me to come on back.”
“Have a seat.” He didn’t glance up from his computer screen, and his fingers flew across the keyboard. “Be with you in a second.”
Sitting in front of his desk reminded me of the one time I’d been sent to the principal’s office in junior high. I’d had to go the restroom during lunch, and my bladder didn’t feel like waiting on the sour-faced supervisor to waddle over to our table to grant us permission to get up. She’d chased me into the girls’ room, hauled me out of the stall, and dragged me to the office.
Mr. Carlyle had laughed and sent me back to class via the restroom.
“Sorry.” Evan looked up. “Just had to finish sending that email. What brings you by?”
I held out the tea. “I wanted to brighten a friend’s day.”
“Right.” He laughed. No—he guffawed.
I needed to do more random acts of kindness. Then it wouldn’t be so transparent when I wanted information.
“Sorry.” He pressed his lips together, but his eyes were still filled with amusement. He took the tea. “Thanks. That’s nice of you.”
“Since you see through me, I’ll get right to it. Did you call in a tip to the sheriff’s department about a flash drive hidden in a book safe?” I crossed my legs and set my handbag on the floor.
“Sure did. I take it the police showed up at the church with a search warrant?”
“Yep. Yesterday afternoon. Why didn’t you tell me about it?”
“What would you have done if I had told you?”
“I would’ve suggested you call Cal and—”
“Really, Georgia? You wouldn’t have gone to the church that very night and looked through all the books in the building until you found the flash drive?”
I bounced my leg. “You’re right. I would’ve.” After all, I did have a key, thanks to Ruby.
“I know. I was trying to keep you safe.”
I met his gaze, not wanting to unpack the meaning behind his actions. Just brotherly concern, right? “Will you at least tell me how you knew about the flash drive?”
“Did they find it?”
“I did. By accident.” I filled him in on how I’d made the discovery, but I didn’t tell him about looking at the contents.
“Mysteries seem to find you.” He shook his head. “About a month ago, I stopped by the church to pick up brochures about the mentoring program that Zach was coordinating. We’ve had some kids dealing with heavy stuff this year—drug overdoses, underage drinking, depression, pregnancy. You name it. We were hoping this program might help. Anyway. Mona told me to go back to Zach’s office. His door was open, but he didn’t hear me. He was putting a flash drive into a hollowed-out book.”
“Did he ever realize you saw him?”
“Nope. I figured the guy had a right to privacy, so I backed out and let a few seconds pass before I knocked on the doorframe. I didn’t even think of it until you started talking about your computer being stolen.”
“Thanks for telling me.” I stood. “I won’t keep you.”
“Hold on. There’s one more thing you might like to know.”
I sat. “Go on.”
“Today at lunch I asked about the kid who died from Jimsonweed poisoning last summer, and one of the teachers knew. The victim was from Indianapolis, but his girlfriend is from Richardville. Apparently she tried the Jimsonweed too, but the tiny dose didn’t kill her—just messed her up for a while.”
“Did you get names?”
“The boy was Eli Mossburg, and the girl is Mia Phillips.”
It took me a second to remember where I’d heard the girl’s name. Then it hit me. Jim’s daughter. Which meant Mona had lied about getting the information about Jimsonweed at her cycling class.
Had she done it to protect Mia’s privacy, or did she have a darker reason for hiding the truth?
When I arrived home from my visit with Evan, I finally got around to hanging Ashley’s mistletoe in the opening between my foyer and my living room. Then, I entertained Gus for a bit before dragging myself into my office.
I stalled by searching for Jody Chatfield on social media and found a few people by that name—men and women—but no one in the area.
Finally, I made myself finish organizing my files so I could begin tax prep for our farm. Gus lay by the door and napped, which was what I would’ve preferred to do.
Though I tried to focus, my mind kept wande
ring to Cal. I needed to relax about the whole Christmas gift thing. The idea would come. Beverly’s advice about figuring out how to love him reverberated in my head. What made him feel special?
I stretched for a minute before opening my email. Kelsey had finally responded.
Hey Georgia,
Sorry I haven’t had a chance to get back with you, but it’s been crazy here. First, you should know that Cal’s a private person, so if he’s not super open with you at first, don’t take it personally. It’s just his way. Plus, I don’t want to say too much, but his family is going through a difficult time, so that’s probably weighing on him.
I’ll definitely be praying that you’ll figure out what to get Cal. (I wasn’t sure what to get Evan, when I came across this totally cool wall hanging. It’s the continent of Africa with a heart over Ethiopia. Perfect, right?)
I took a timeout to throw up a little in my mouth.
Cal is totally hard to buy for, so don’t feel like it means anything significant about your relationship. One year, our grandma threatened to knit him a sweater with Yoda on the front if he didn’t tell her what he wanted.
He got a Yoda sweater. Have him show you sometime. You’ll think of something perfect because you’re awesome like that.
Praying for you!
Love,
Kelsey
I rested my elbows on my desk, buried my head in my hands, and groaned. Gus walked over to make sure I wasn’t dying, and I patted his head.
I’d just refocused on taxes when my doorbell rang. Gus charged out of my office, and I trudged behind him and peered through the sidelight.
Austin.
Well, I was ninety percent sure it was Austin and not Preston, because he’d made a comeback as my sidekick. Since a chance remained it was Preston, I settled for a simple hey there when I opened the door.
“You still can’t tell us apart?” He leaned against the door.
I stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. “Sure I can. Austin’s the snarky one. Preston’s the nice one.”
Austin snorted. “Whatever. Here’s a pro tip.” He pointed underneath his left eye. “I’ve got a scar from falling on the corner of the fireplace when I was three.”
“Thanks.” My cheeks warmed. How had I never noticed that before? “What’s going on?”
“I figured now that we’re working together, I should help you out.” He patted Gus’s head, but when the dog’s nose slimed his navy dress pants, he stepped back.
“Sorry,” I said.
He shrugged. “It’ll wash off. I had another showing over here, so I thought I’d swing by and tell you what I found out.”
“About what?” I tried to remember how we’d left our last conversation.
“Seriously? How did you ever solve a murder?” He shook his head and puffed out his chest. “Digging deeper is key.”
Slime his pants again, Gus. Oh, how I longed for the power of telepathy. Instead, God reminded me to love my stepbrother.
“You’re right.” I nearly choked on the words and motioned him into the dining room. I pointed at the board and picked up a piece of blue chalk. “What can you add?”
“That’s an impressive murder board, sissy.” He sat facing the wall. “I asked around about the four tiny houses. One of my colleagues told me there’s a ten-acre property about ten miles east of here. Some people who are into that living simply thing are putting their tiny houses there because of the pond and a big woods. But that’s not the interesting part.”
“Okay.” I wrote tiny houses and ten-acre property on the board.
“I searched records, and Final Rejuvenation, LLC owns the property—and the colonial house that sold for cheap.” He grinned. “Want to guess who sold the house to Final Rejuvenation?”
“Jody Chatfield?”
“Ding, ding, ding!”
I let Austin’s words sink in. “Do you know who owns Final Rejuvenation?” I scrawled the company name on the board.
“Not yet, but it shouldn’t be hard to figure out.”
I had to give him major credit since he’d been way more helpful than I could’ve ever imagined. I reached across the table for a high five. “Nice work.”
He smacked my palm. “There’s more.”
“Really?”
“Yep. I was having lunch with my buddy Ryan who works at Heartland Real Estate, and I was telling him how I was helping you with Zach Mishler’s murder investigation.” He cocked his head while a few seconds ticked by.
Merciful heavens. “Spit it out.” I tried hard to keep the edge out of my tone, but my effort failed. Big time.
“Patience,” he crooned and held up a hand in the manner of a guru.
Sic him, Gus. No, no. Nice Georgia. Jesus loves Austin, and so should I. “My apologies.” I pressed my hands together and bowed.
He smirked. “Ryan said Zach was getting his real estate license. He’d completed the course and was scheduled to take the exam. Heartland Real Estate had hired him to start at the beginning of the year.”
“Wow.” I added that information to the board. “Doug told me Zach had resigned, but I had no idea he was leaving ministry completely.”
It was interesting that Zach had planned to stay in Indiana instead of going back to Michigan to work for his dad. Had Olivia motivated him to stay? Plus, if he was ready for the exam, he had to have been working on the class for a while—long before the argument with Pastor Mark.
Austin shrugged. “You know how church people can be. He’d probably had enough.” He flicked his gaze away and made me wonder about his own history.
Why had I never given that more thought? “Christians aren’t perfect.”
“No kidding.” He scowled as he stood up and pushed in his chair. “Anyway, Farthing out.” He saluted and walked to the door.
“Thanks for the info.” I swallowed. “You’re a good sidekick.”
“I know.” He winked. “Later, sissy.” He waved as he bolted down the sidewalk.
“Cut!” Ruby barked.
That night, the orchestra groaned to a stop, but a single flute trilled for a few seconds longer than the rest as the cast grew silent.
“No, no, no!” Ruby waved her arms, and with jowls shaking, thundered down the church aisle toward Rob, who sported a look of utter confusion on his handsome face as he swayed above the stage in a harness attached to two wires.
Rob adjusted his left angel wing and batted aside a star that I’d already noted needed to be moved. “What’d I do wrong now?”
“It’s ye shall find. Not you will find. Get it right.” Ruby stomped her foot. “This is the birth announcement of our Lord and Savior!”
My head throbbed, and I’d been feeling fine before rehearsal that night. How had Jessica Myers put up with this? I set aside the notepad Ruby had thrust in my hands at the beginning of practice, got up, and walked toward our overwrought director. Diplomacy was going to be a challenge when I wanted to run from the room screaming—but thankfully—not cussing.
God and I must be making progress where my mouth was concerned.
I stopped at center stage where children dressed as sheep gazed up at Rob, while their dads, garbed as shepherds, leaned on their wooden crooks. On stage right, Leah sat in the time machine sleigh with Millie the Time-Traveling Scientist.
“Um, Ruby,” I said, “modern Bible translations use the words you will.”
When Ruby had complained about Rob’s inability to learn his lines, she’d failed to mention her insistence that they come from the King James Version. Her doggedness was even weirder considering that Pastor Mark never used that translation in his sermons.
“But King James English is simply wonderful. It fits my vision for this program.”
“The music is modern.”
“It sounds more angelic to say shall and ye.”
I locked eyes with Rob, who shook his head. If I’d had to guess, I’d have put him about ten seconds from unhooking himself and splatting on the stage b
elow to experience sweet relief.
“You’re doing great, Rob.” I gave a thumbs up and faced Ruby. “He looks so angelic, I doubt the audience will notice his verb and pronoun choices.”
On cue, Rob raised his arms.
Ruby heaved a sigh. “No one ever understands my vision.”
Probably not, but I had to say something, while fighting the urge to begin my forthcoming words with behold.
Not the time, Georgia Rae.
I patted Ruby’s shoulder. “Your vision is spectacular. You’ve done an amazing job. The set is gorgeous. The costumes are beautiful, and the cast is marvelous.” I stopped before I ran out of adjectives.
“You think?”
“I know.” The silence thickened as I looked around at cast and orchestra members who were avoiding eye contact.
A little help would be good, people.
“Let’s hear it for Ruby.” Rob the Mind Reader wolf-whistled.
A couple of sheep-children stood and clapped.
Ruby burst into tears. “Oh, thank you. You’ll never know how much your support means.” She sniffed and took a bow. “Let’s start from the top of the scene, and Rob? I’ll sacrifice my desires for the greater good.” She clapped twice. “Carry on as you’ve memorized.”
And it came to pass, that rehearsal continued without further incident.
Chapter Fifteen
“I can’t believe you’d betray me like that.”
I nearly lost my hold on my Moon Landing Mocha as I whirled around to face Austin on Wednesday morning at Latte Conspiracies. “What’d I do?”
I tried to process our last conversation. I’d thanked him for the information yesterday. He’d been too pleased with himself. Totally and completely normal.
He scowled. “Austin told me he’s been your sidekick again. Bragged about it. After I was nice to you, you picked him over me?” He huffed and crossed his arms.
Preston. I was dealing with Preston. In my fuzzy-brained condition, I’d failed to notice the lack of a scar next to his eye. I longed for a sip of coffee, but Bobbi Sue had just made my drink, and I didn’t need to add scalded taste buds to my growing list of troubles.
Deadly Holiday (Georgia Rae Winston Mysteries Book 2) Page 13