“Granny looked at Ella’s scared face and looked Ella straight in the eye. “Tank, Fish, little white poodle, Furball and Baskerville, come here now!” Granny instructed.
Just at that moment, there was a crash outside the door. Maizie swung towards the door. Ella stomped on Maizie’s foot. Maizie screamed, hopped in pain, dropped the gun and let go of Ella. Franklin, the Big Guy and the entire Fuchsia police department stormed through the door from the underground street.
Fish and Furball started meowing as loud as they could. Tank, Baskerville and little white poodle started barking. Granny took her umbrella and hooked Gram/Mrs. Shrill’s arm so she couldn’t get away. At the same time, Franklin, quickly assessing the situation, grabbed the good looking young man now known as Sonny Boy, by both arms. Franklin finished subduing him by attaching Sonny Boy’s wrists with handcuffs and hooking him to a pipe protruding from the wall.
The shysters were still barking and meowing the room down. “Enough shysters!” Granny shouted above the din. She glanced at Franklin just in time to see him wink at her. This time Granny winked back.
Granny took the time to comfort Estelle, Hermione and Ella and turn them over to three cute police officers who would escort them home.
After the Big Guy and the police hauled Mrs. Shrill, Sonny Boy and Maizie to their little room in the quaint Fuchsia jail, Granny turned to Franklin.
“How did you find us?”
“After I left you at the cemetery, I went back to the courthouse. I pulled up the history of the town. It baffled me as to how the forest got into your back yard. I noticed from old court records, that Ella’s Enchanted Forest originally was a Funeral Home. You happened to have gotten stuck in a cemetery in a mausoleum. There had to be a connection.
I drove over to the Enchanted Forest and walked around the room where the forest had been. I checked out the nooks and crannies. When I gave one a tap, the entire floor descended into the underground street. That’s how they transported the trees. The street is big enough for a truck. They drove a truck underground to the Enchanted Forest, loaded the trees and drove to the space near your house that has a lift that was formerly made to be able to lift the caskets into the cemetery. Phineas had planned on transporting the caskets underground from the funeral home to the cemetery mausoleum in the winter time.
Whoever was setting you up, used it to transport the forest of trees. Once they got the trees into the mausoleum they took them through the fence into your back yard. Once I figured this out, I rode the floor down to the streets. I then called the Big Guy. He had just noticed you were missing and he found the door you escaped through. You thought you’d closed it, but it didn’t latch so the fireplace appeared to be hanging off the wall. You were gone and the Big Guy knew you hadn’t gotten past him. He found the door at the same time that I called him, so he followed your path from that direction. I started from the direction of the Enchanted Forest. We found the door and you in time to hear the confessions.”
“Oh, Franklin, I feel a little faint. All of this is too much for an old woman.” As she made that statement Granny started edging out the other door that led to Mrs. Shrill’s basement garage.
Franklin was about to follow, when Baskerville stood in front of the door and growled, stopping him in his tracks. Furball jumped on his head. “Itsy, what are you doing?”
“Franklin, haven’t you learned anything yet, that is Furball. You men need to give these heroes respectable names.” Granny took advantage of his confusion and slipped through the door, slammed it shut and locked it. She grabbed the keys off of the wall of Gram or Mrs. Shrill’s garage and hopped into Mrs. Shrill’s red 1957 Corvette. Opening the garage door, Granny checked the street for movement before she backed the car out of the garage.
After all that excitement, Granny needed to get out of town. She headed straight for Brilliant, Minnesota, and Red Hot Mama’s Boutique. Granny spent the rest of the day picking out some spicy nightwear. It was time for a change. She’d spent too many nights lately in her clothes and trying to stay out of the hoosegow. It was time to add to her nighttime attire collection. She might be daffy but she wasn’t dead.
When Granny arrived home, she parked her new, spare 1957 Corvette in the empty space in her double garage next to its twin 1957 red Corvette. As Granny walked to her door to enter her house, she heard howling that sounded like a four-footed furry creature was in pain. She found Baskerville sitting in front of the small pet door giving her his best sad face as he released a howl from deep inside his body. Granny laughed. “I guess I’m going to have to expand the pet door for you, Baskerville.” Granny opened the door and let Baskerville in. Fish, the little white poodle, Furball and Tank were all waiting for her.
Granny set out two more big bowls for Baskerville and then fed the shysters their tofu, yogurt and vegetables while she pulled out ice cream and donuts for her dinner. She settled down in front of her television and enjoyed the news of the heists being solved. She especially liked the picture the news station used of her. Granny decided now that she was famous she might have to change her look a little so she could continue her undercover job. She wondered how she would look in red hair.
Granny was ready to give herself a facial with avocado’s and lemon juice––after all, after a day like Granny had had, she needed a little tweak to her skin. Wrinkles were wrinkles, but wrinkles without avocados and lemon juice were really wrinkles. Just then, her phone rang.
Granny could hear the screeching on the other end before she could even shout, “What?”
“We just heard the news. You could have been killed. You could have been kidnapped! We’ll be over tomorrow. We’re going to talk about this!” both Penelope and Starshine said at the same time as they shouted into their speaker on their phone.
“It’s not my fault. There was this man. His name was Franklin. He didn’t tell me what I was getting into. He just asked me to help him and look what happened. I promise, I’ll never help him again. He’s a very bad influence.” Granny pinched her nose hard so it hurt and made her sniffle. “You’re right. I could have been killed.” Granny gave herself another pinch. “My life flashed through my eyes and the thought that I might never see the three of you again scared me so much. I promise I’ll never forget this lesson.”
Granny gave a big yawn into the phone. “I have to go; I’m so tired. The stress, you know, but I’m fine. Please, don’t worry. I just got caught up in something that wasn’t my making.”
“We’re sorry we made you cry,” Softhearted Starshine apologized.
“We’ll talk about this, but when you’re ready. We want to make sure you’re ok. After all, you aren’t getting any younger,” Penelope reminded her.
“Sleep tight, mom,” Thor advised his mother. “I’ve decided I’m going to move to Fuchsia. I’ll be over soon to look for a house.”
Granny jumped when she heard those words and slammed down the phone. She guessed it could be worse; it could be Penelope and her family––or Starshine––moving to Fuchsia. At least Thor wasn’t so strict.
Granny changed into her new purple and red silk nightie accented with velvet lace and tiny pink bows around the neckline, and settled into bed. She fell asleep eating chocolates, reading her favorite hot novel and thinking how nice it was for things to be back to normal.
Chapter Twenty Three
The phone ringing early in the morning woke Granny as she was dreaming about Franklin putting a ring on her finger, while Fish, little white poodle, Furball, Tank and Baskerville watched.
“What now!” Granny screamed into the phone.
“10:00 o’clock, Ella’s Enchanted Forest. Be there.” With that, the caller hung up the phone.
Granny stared at the phone. The voice had sounded like Franklin’s.
Granny peeked her big toe out from under the blanket. It was pink. It was going to be a warm day. It was a flip flop day. She listened to see if she heard any noises in the kitchen. It seemed her kids hadn’t followed
up with threatening to visit after their phone call last night. She hoped they missed the latest news last night too and didn’t hear the reporters talking about Franklin as if he was the next best thing to Robert Redford dessert.
Granny decided it was safe to venture into her kitchen. There were no kid noises in the house. Granny grabbed her binoculars and decided she’d better check on her neighbors. She’d been a little remiss lately.
Granny trained her binoculars on George’s house. There were no boxer shorts hanging on the pole. Granny started to grow concerned. She trained her binoculars on Mavis’ house. Mavis’ shade was pulled down and George’s boxer shorts were hanging on the pole outside of Mavis house.
Granny got a sly smile on her face until she moved her binoculars to Sally’s house. What she saw made her drop her binoculars and run out into the street, forgetting she still had on her purple and red, velvet trimmed nightie with pink bows on.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Julie Seedorf owns her own computer repair business, but her secret undercover job is writing. Her column “Something About Nothing” for a Minnesota newspaper is about nothing, which is what we talk about most of the time, always with something underneath the conversation. Julie has been a wife, mother, grandmother, housewife, barmaid, salesperson, activity director, full time volunteer and more. Her motto is, “If you dream it, you can do it.” Her Fuchsia, Minnesota, series is the first of her journey in her undercover career. Having lived in small communities in Minnesota all her life, she knows the richness and uniqueness that only a small town can bring and with a little humor and imagination, she transforms those experiences into her imaginary Fuchsia community. Visit her Facebook page, Sprinkled Notes, find her on twitter @JulieSeedorf. Watch for her upcoming website.
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This book is fiction. All characters, events, and organizations portrayed in this novel are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by Julie Seedorf
All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
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