Realizing what she’d just said, Granny became silent. By her words, she realized that she’d just admitted that Franklin had some of the same traits as her late husband Ferdinand.
Amelia cleared her throat. “We’re here. Silas, we’ll be fine. Find my son.” She grabbed Granny’s arm and dragged her out of the car.
“Let go of me,” Granny rasped, “We’re going to find your son and solve the mystery of who I’m supposed to be afraid of. Let the police solve the murder, because there will be another one when I find out who’s out to get me.” Granny slammed the tines of the pitchfork that she’d quickly grabbed out of Silas’s car on the sidewalk before he drove away.”
Amelia laughed at the sight of Granny hitting the sidewalk with the tines of the fork. “Careful, Hermiony, you’ll bend instead of fork.”
Delight was watching through the window and had the door open for the two women, waiting to see what was up.
“What’s happening? Why did we cancel our midnight meeting? Wait, we need coffee and sweets.” Delight hurried away.
“Maybe we should go out on the donut patio. It appears empty. No one will hear us,” Granny suggested.
“Delight, we’ll be out here.” Amelia pointed to the patio.
Granny and Amelia were quiet as they watched the donut fountain, which today was spouting pink whipped cream.
They heard Delight’s giggle before they saw Delight. “Makes you just want to jump in and cover yourself in whipped cream, doesn’t it?”
Granny winked at her sister. “Why, Delight, we didn’t know you had such risqué thoughts. Do we have a boutique for you!”
Delight blushed as she set the coffee down. “Well, I’ve been seeing someone. Do you know Silas’s friend Humboldt Notorious?”
“Nope, never heard of him,” Granny continued, “Delight, have you ever heard of a family by the name of Carissa and Doug Melborne?”
Delight thought for a moment then said, “No, don’t believe I have, why?”
Amelia whispered, “We think they adopted my Vitale.”
“Why are you whispering, Amelia?” asked Delight.
Granny shook her head. “She thinks we’re still at the courthouse.”
Delight’s eyes opened wide. “Courthouse? What courthouse? Why were you at the courthouse?”
Granny saw Amelia open her mouth, but before she could answer, Granny interrupted, “To find the records.” Granny stood up. “We have to go.”
“Where are we going?” Amelia asked.
“We need to have a meal. Delight’s coffee and this cream-filled, tree-shaped concoction was delicious, but I need some fried chicken. We’ll head to Rack’s. Do you ever miss your forest, Delight?” Granny was referring to the trees that were now in her back yard.
“Yes, in fact, I’m thinking of purchasing some land behind the Pink Percolator and reviving Ella’s Enchanted Forest.”
Granny frowned. “Speaking of Ella, I didn’t know she was changing jobs.”
“Changing jobs?” Delight’s confusion was evident because of the look on her face.
“Why yes,” Amelia answered, “She was at my chocolate factory applying for a job, at least that’s what Lars said.”
Delight giggled. “That Lars of yours is such a sweet boy. I miss him working here. He always made Ella laugh and me too.”
Amelia reminded her sister, “Your, uh, I mean, Silas said we should wait here for him.”
“We’re just going to Rack’s; it’s only a few blocks away. Delight, tell him to meet us there.”
“Why don’t we call him?” Amelia suggested nervously.
“We’ll be fine,” Granny assured her. “Now come on.” Granny led the way out of the patio through the back alley.
“Look, Granny, did you forget your car again?” Amelia pointed down the alley.
Granny peered at the ‘57 Chevy parked at the end of the alley. “Can’t be my car, my car’s home in the garage.”
“Do you want to check it out?”
“Good idea. Amazing! Another plan that might work.” Granny led the way, holding tightly to her pink pitchfork.
The top on the car was down. Granny looked around before getting in. “Looks like my car.”
“Maybe we should call the Tall Guy or Silas or Franklin?” Amelia was dancing around nervously.
“Well, there’s only one way to know for sure.” Granny reached in her pocket and got out her keychain. “I really need to start carrying my pocketbook again. These keys weigh down my dress.”
Granny took the key and put it into the ignition and turned. The car started right up. “Yup, it’s my car. How did it get here?”
Amelia got in the passenger side. “Did you forget you left it here?”
“Amelia, would I forget driving my car downtown?”
“Yes.” Amelia’s foot touched something under the seat. She reached down and brought out a red wig.
Granny frowned. “Last I saw this red wig it was on Snowshoe Notorious’s head. He must have something to do with this. Call Silas and tell him to get ol’ Snowshoe down to Racks with him.”
“You’re going to confront him?”
Granny smiled. “Reach out and pick up my pitchfork that I left on the sidewalk there, Amelia. We might need it.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Granny and Amelia were sitting at Granny’s favorite booth when Silas and Snowshoe Notorious joined them.
“I thought I told you to wait at the Pink Percolator!” Silas bellowed as he slid into the booth across from Granny.
Humboldt slid in next to Silas.
“Humboldt, nice to see you,” Granny said sweetly, right before pulling the red wig she’d been concealing on her lap onto the table. With a flip, she tossed it at Humboldt. “Or should I say Gram Gramstead wannabee?”
Humboldt looked at Silas and then back at Granny with a blank expression, “Who?”
Granny tapped the table so hard the water in her water glass shook. “You’ve been trying to make me think Gram Gramstead is back and after me! You’ve been trying to make me think I can’t think anymore!”
“What?” Humboldt asked, a look of confusion on his face.
Silas laughed. “It’s Granny speak.”
“You!” Granny pointed her dinner fork at Silas. “You’re probably in on this too!”
“Uh, Hermiony, you shouldn’t talk to your husband like that.” Amelia touched Granny’s arm.
Granny shook Amelia’s hand off of her arm. “He’s not my husband! That was your scam, so I’ll talk to the ornery, scheming coot any way I want! They’re trying to send me to the wrinkle farm or to the hoosegow.”
Silas shook his head. “Suppose you tell us what this is all about. I saw your car out front. Did you go back home and get it?”
“No! He stole it from my garage and parked it at the corner of the alley by the Pink Percolator!”
“What?” Humboldt turned to Silas. “You warned me about her.”
“Humboldt was with me,” said Silas. “I filled him in on what we discovered and he’s going to head over to Brilliant to see what he can find out about this Carissa and Douglas Melbourne. There’s another thing to consider. Humboldt reminded me that Robert Blackford was going by the name Melborne Shultz in Canada. Maybe the Shultz is another clue. He must have named himself so he’d remember where his son was. Somehow, he must have known,” Silas concluded.
“Afternoon, can I take your order?” Gretchen addressed Silas and Humboldt.
“Give them the same as Amelia and me,.” Granny ordered.
“Did you hear?” Gretchen leaned forward whispering, “The police are at AbStract. Word on the street’s that it has something to do with Justine’s murder. Apparently, Jack Puffleman was her father and now he’s a suspect in her murder.”
“He didn’t do it!” Granny declared.
All eyes turned to Granny.
“You know this how?” Silas questioned.
“I talked to Jack Puffleman,” said Gr
anny. “He told me he was Justine’s father. We saw him leaving AbStract through the underground street door the night of the murder, so I questioned him.”
Silas raised his eyebrows at her words. “And of course you told Thor all this? And what do you mean by we? I thought you were all at a slumber party at Amelia’s all night.”
Amelia, wanting to help her sister, jumped in, “We took a little walk––exercise, you know––in the underground streets, good for the soul. It was just by chance that we saw him. Actually, none of us remember we saw him. Only Granny saw him because we all had our eyes closed while we were walking. It was too light down there for a walk in the dark.”
Granny put her hand over Amelia’s mouth. “We need to go and see what’s happening. Move, Amelia, so I can out!”
As Amelia began to move out of the booth, they saw Franklin walk in the door of the restaurant. Granny grabbed Amelia’s arm to pull her back into the booth. Franklin saw them and came back and grabbed a chair so he could sit at the end of the booth.
“Glad I found all of you,” he said. “Saw your car, Granny, when I was going to check on Amelia.”
“Franklin,” said Silas, “this is Humboldt Snowshoe, an old friend and detective from Alaska.”
Franklin looked questioningly at Snowshoe. “I thought you were the lawyer Silas hired for Granny when she was almost arrested?”
Humboldt looked uncomfortable. “Well, yes, I do that too in time of need.”
“What’s the news?” Granny asked Franklin.
“We’ve arrested Jack Puffleman for Justine’s murder,” said Franklin. “It turns out that he’s Justine’s real father and apparently, he didn’t want Justine to tell his family. We found his DNA at the crime scene. Justine’s murder didn’t have anything to do with what happened at your farm, Hermiony. It was a coincidence.”
“He didn’t do it,” Granny declared.
“Hermiony, we know all about your seeing him coming out of the store the night that Justine was murdered. He said you were his alibi. But by all accounts, that was around midnight and Justine was murdered before midnight.”
“Why were Justine and her real father at my chocolate factory and how did they get in?” Amelia wondered.
“Well,” replied Franklin, “apparently Justine had a key.”
“What! That’s news to me,” said Amelia, standing up in the booth. Granny pulled her back down. “How did she get a key?”
“According to your stepson Lars, it was stolen off the wall in his office,” said Franklin.
“But we found the key on Granny’s front steps,” Amelia informed him.
“You couldn’t have. The key was on Justine’s body,” Franklin countered.
“He didn’t do it!” Granny said again.
“Look, Hermiony, we know you have a soft spot for Jack Puffleman because you worked undercover for him, but stress and a big secret such as this about to be revealed makes people do strange things.” Franklin reached past Amelia and patted Granny’s hand.
Amelia started to cough. She sipped a glass of water. Choking out her words, she said, “You’ll have to excuse me.” Sliding out of the booth, she slipped out the back door of Racks and could be seen going to her house across the street.
Franklin, concerned, said, “Maybe I should go and see if she’s all right.”
Granny nodded. “You do that, Franklin. We’re not finished here.”
Franklin kissed Granny on the cheek and left to find Amelia.
Granny looked at Silas. “You’ve been awfully quiet. Now Snowshoe or gumshoe or whoever you are, why are you stalking me wearing this red wig?”
Snowshoe Notorious shook his head. “I’m not stalking you, Granny. I found the red wig in Silas’s bushes.”
Granny’s eyes shot daggers at Silas. “You did this or you’re lying to me about Gram.”
Silas shook his head. “Gram is dead, Granny. You probably just forgot your car. And the red wig? Someone’s playing a joke on you. Come on, we’ll follow you home. You’d better check on your new addition. It looked like Mrs. Bleaty was trying to help Woodly with the siding. He would put some siding on and Mrs. Bleaty would take it off. Did you consult with her about the color?
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Mavis and George, along with Penelope and Butch, were all at Granny’s when she pulled into the driveway. Mavis had Mrs. Bleaty by her collar and was talking to her soothingly. Butch was sitting, leaning back on Baskerville. Penelope was holding Fish and Furball on her lap, and George managed to have one arm around Little White Poodle and the other around Tank. Mr. Pigster was quietly lazing under a tree.
“Why are you all here?” Granny reached down to pet Mr. Pigster.
“I asked them to help,” Woodly Spackle yelled down from his ladder.
“The animals were trying to stop him from siding your new addition,” Penelope explained. “We were all outside when he hollered for help.”
Granny gazed at the siding already on the house. “They must not have liked the color I picked.”
Penelope shook her head. “I don’t think they care about color, Mom.”
Silas came to join the group after parking his car in his driveway. “Remember, they belong to this crotchety old woman. They might be just as finicky too.”
“Let them loose and let’s ask them,” Granny ordered.
Penelope rolled her eyes as she loosened her grip on the two shysters she was holding.
“I got it,” Mavis exclaimed. “George, run home and get those color swatches we use for our Color Is Overwhelming reality show.”
George let loose of his two shysters so he could get the swatches.
“Mother Fiddlestadt, we know you love your animals,” Butch used a calm voice, “but really? I own a hardware store. No one lets their animals choose their house colors.”
“Well, this is Fuchsia,” Silas countered, “Nothing here makes sense as far as I can tell. That’s what makes life here interesting.”
George came back with the color swatches. Mavis took them out of his hands and spread them over the lawn.
Granny turned to the shysters and the cohorts. “Find your colors.”
The animals didn’t move; they just stared up at Granny.
“See,” Penelope pointed out, “They don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A grunt came from under the tree. Mr. Porkster got up and waddled over to a pink swatch and sat down on top of it.
The shysters and the cohorts, seeing what Mr. Porkster had done, spread out over the colors. Little White Poodle sat by Mr. Porkster as did Fish. Baskerville picked a bright blue swatch. Tank sniffed around and finally sat down on red. Furball examined the blue and then settled on a neon green swatch.
“Now what?” Penelope shook her head in disbelief that they were actually trying to let animals select their color scheme.
Silas spoke up, “Narrow it down to the ones they’re sitting on and have them choose again from among those.”
Butch laughed. “Silas, you can’t believe in this hoo-ha.”
Silas picked up the other swatches.
Granny laughed and said to the animals, “Choose.”
“Can we choose too?” Mavis asked. “This is fun. It’s like a cakewalk at a carnival.”
Baskerville looked at all the colors as did the rest of the animals. They all ended up sitting on neon green.
“Neon green in Fuchsia?” Mavis wondered.
“Why not?” George asked. “We don’t have a neon green house in this neighborhood. The rest of your house is a little boring too, Granny. It’s still the gray it was when you bought it. Never understood someone painting a house gray; it’s the only gray house in town.”
“Thanks, folks, for your help!” Woodly Spackle hollered down from his ladder.
“Forgot you were up there, Woodly!” Granny yelled back. “I guess you need to change the color of the addition to neon green. While you’re at it, when you’re done, I need you to paint the rest of the
house too. We’ll decide the color later.”
“You got it, Granny!” Woodly began to tear off the siding he’d already put on the house.
The shysters and the cohorts happily took off down the street. Mr. Pigster went back under the tree for a snooze.
Penelope shook her head. “Maybe you should wait with the color since you and Franklin are getting married in August and you and Franklin are moving into his Victorian house. Let the next owner paint this house.”
Granny ignored the advice. “Thanks, everyone! Got things to do now. See you later!” Granny thought for a moment. “Mavis, can I have a word with you in the house?”
“Sure. George, I’ll be right home so we can start our new script.”
Safe in the house so no one would overhear their conversation, Granny said to Mavis, “They arrested Jack Puffleman for Justine’s murder. He didn’t do it. We have to go to the chocolate factory and see if we can find something that they missed. Amelia will let us in. You call the rest of the gals. Midnight in the underground street! Tell Lulu to bring her van and have it parked at the Pink Percolator. We’ll pick up Amelia and then head to the chocolate factory. Tell no one else.”
“George is going home to his family in Iowa tonight for a few days,” said Mavis, “so I won’t have to figure a way to buffalo him. I’ll call the girls. Where were you today, Granny? I saw your car leave around 11:30.”
“You saw my car leave and you didn’t stop it?” Granny admonished Mavis.
“You wanted me to stop you from leaving?” Mavis shook her head, confused.
“It wasn’t me! It was Gram Gramstead!”
“I heard Gram was dead. Maybe you’ve been under too much stress planning this wedding with Franklin.”
“I’m not under any stress.” Granny’s voice got louder, “Mavis, you know me! The only stress I have is how to dress. Now, go call everyone. I have a couple of phone calls to make.”
“I’m off, I’m off!” Mavis danced out the door.
“You’re off, alright,” Granny muttered to the wall.
Picking up her phone, she called Ditty Belle, “Ditty, do you have a history book of the families of Brilliant?”
Granny Forks A Fugitive (Fuchsia Minnesota Book 4) Page 18