Stay Sharpe Box Set

by Lisa B. Thomas

  Allison shook her head.

  That poor woman, Deena thought. Suicide was such a tragedy for those left behind. Less grizzly than murder, more salacious than a car accident, a suicide left people to wonder and speculate the what-ifs about the deceased.

  The pastor proceeded to offer up a closing prayer and then invited loved ones to a reception at the Granger home.

  Gary had already told Deena they would be attending the reception. He was always particular about those types of occasions. He thought failing to go to the reception after a funeral was like a guest coming to dinner and getting up to leave before the main course. He got his sense of duty from Miss Manners herself—his mother, Sylvia.

  They all waited as the family filed out. Deena wondered which ones were Grangers and which ones were on Allison’s side of the family. The two blondes were obviously sisters or cousins of Allison’s. She wasn’t sure about the others.

  As she watched the family walk by, Deena imagined herself in Allison’s position. What if something happened to Gary? Would she be able to hold up as well as Allison seemed to be? The answer was simple: absolutely not. Gary was her rock. Her compass. Her true north. She often told him that if he died before her, she’d never forgive him.

  And she meant it.

  Just as Allison was passing the back row, an older man stood up and stepped in front of her. Deena couldn’t see Allison’s face, but she heard her say, “I’m surprised you came.”

  The man flashed her a wry smile. “Just wanted to make sure he was good and dead.”

  Chapter 2

  The Grangers lived in one of the older neighborhoods in town, where the yards were large and well-manicured and the houses were set back from the street. Their house had been updated and stuck out among the others as a diamond in the rough.

  It was kind of creepy having the reception at the Grangers’ house, considering the fact that Drew had shot himself in the couple’s bed. That was a tidbit of information Deena had learned from her friend Dan Carson, news editor for the Northeast Texas Tribune. Sometimes it paid to have friends in high-ish places. Gary made Deena promise not to sneak off for a peek inside the bedroom. She had crossed her fingers and made a vague sound that Gary might have interpreted as “okay.”

  Neither Gary nor Deena recognized the creepy man who had practically accosted Allison as she had left the funeral chapel. Deena was determined to talk to him if he showed up at the reception. Gary rationalized that he might be a distant relative jealous of Drew’s fortune and success.

  The food was catered by a company out of Dallas, and Deena loaded up her plate with potato salad and barbequed brisket while eyeing the chocolate meringue pie for dessert. She followed Gary to a table where Lonnie Fisher, cradling a glass of wine, sat with a few other men. Gary offered condolences and they proceeded with the introductions. As it turned out, Lonnie was the production manager at the vineyard, and the two other men worked for him.

  “Deena,” Gary said, “I’m sure you remember meeting Lonnie last summer when we visited the winery. He joined us on the personal tour with Drew.”

  Nothing like putting her on the spot. She smiled and said, “Of course. And I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  Lonnie stared into his glass of wine as though Drew’s picture were floating inside. “Thank you.” He fidgeted with a gold ring on his right hand.

  Deena was surprised Lonnie was single, being that he was nice looking, well dressed, and had a good job. He was a triple threat in her book. He wasn’t eating. That’s probably how he kept his trim physique.

  No one said much until Gary spoke up. “Do you know what’s going to happen to the business now that Drew is gone? Will Allison get involved or does she plan to sell it?”

  “Sell it?” Lonnie bolted upright and stared at Gary as though the notion were unthinkable. He looked as though he might be sick. Not only had he lost his best friend, but he had also lost his employer.

  “Oh, Gary,” Deena said quickly, “no one wants to talk business now. Have you tried the brisket? It’s really moist.”

  Gary apologized and turned his attention to his plate.

  When everyone sat quietly for an uncomfortable amount of time, Deena looked back at Lonnie and asked, “So how did you and Drew meet?” After she asked the question, she realized it sounded like something you’d ask a newly engaged couple.

  Regardless, Lonnie’s eyes lit up. “Actually, it was almost ten years ago. I saw an ad online looking for a manager for a small rural company. It didn’t say what kind of company. I was living in Dallas at the time and had just gotten out of a bad relationship. I was ready for a change. Also, you know how Dallas traffic is.” He smiled and took a sip of tea.

  “Terrible,” Deena said and nodded.

  “The idea of living in the country was tempting, so I applied. When I found out the job was at a winery, I was thrilled. My grandparents moved here from Italy, so we’re wine drinkers from way back. In fact, I was told Pavarotti might be a sixth cousin.”

  “Isn’t he that old race car driver?” one of the other men asked.

  “No, that’s Mario Andretti,” Gary said.

  “Then who’s this Pavarotti?”

  Lonnie snorted in frustration. “He’s just the greatest tenor of all time, that’s all.” He fell silent again.

  Deena took that as her cue to scope out the dessert table again. As luck would have it, an elderly woman holding a cane was just picking up the last piece of pie. Deena pictured herself grabbing the cane, whacking the old lady, and making a run for it with the pie.

  “We’re cutting some more,” a girl with the catering staff said. “It will be just a few minutes.”

  Deena smiled and opted to hang out near the table just in case there was another rush on dessert. The mystery man from the funeral was nowhere in sight. But standing near her was Allison Granger in her champagne-bubble frock and high heels. Women like her made it look easy. She probably didn’t have to stand on her feet all day at the bank like Deena did when she was a teacher. Consequently, Deena’s feet were better suited for flats than heels.

  Allison was talking to a man in a brown sports coat who had loosened his tie. Judging by Allison’s expression and crossed arms, she didn’t appear too happy with the guy. Deena inched closer.

  “No, I haven’t talked to her in years,” Brown Suit said. “I assumed Drew was still in touch.”

  “Lord, no,” Allison said. “Apparently, when they had their falling-out with their father, Drew just wrote his sister off. He never would tell me what happened between them, and I never asked. That’s why I didn’t bother to track her down to tell her that Drew was gone.”

  “So, you don’t know what happened between her and the family?” he asked.

  “No clue,” Allison said. “I’ve never even met her. I mean, she’s your wife, don’t you know where she is?”

  He shuffled his feet. “Like I said, she and I split right after she quit the business. I only found out about Drew’s death through seeing it in the newspaper.”

  Allison nodded and mumbled, “Uh-huh.” She looked around as though she wanted an excuse to get away.

  Deena wanted to rescue her from what appeared to be an uncomfortable conversation, so she walked over and shot out her hand to Allison. “Hi, I’m Deena Sharpe, Gary’s wife.”

  Allison, looking relieved, reached out and returned the shake. “Thank you so much for coming. But will you excuse me? There’s someone I need to speak to.” She walked off toward the hallway where a uniformed police officer stood. Deena recognized him as Officer Larry Linndorf.

  “Say, aren’t you that murder-solving lady I read about in the local papers?” Brown Suit asked. “I remember thinking, ‘That Deena Sharpe must be really sharp!’”

  She offered up a half smile at the lame joke she’d heard numerous times. “That’s me. Actually, I’m an investigator for a law firm.”

  “Like a PI?”

  “Sort of.” Not wanting to explain that s
he was not a licensed private detective, but instead worked on a contract basis with Ian Davis, she looked for her own excuse to get away.

  Luckily, the caterer came out of the kitchen with a tray full of desserts.

  “Oh look. It’s pie,” she said. Grabbing two pieces, she excused herself and scooted past the man to make her way back to Gary.

  “Thanks, hon, but you know I don’t like meringue,” Gary said as she set the plate in front of him.

  “Yeah, I know.” She pulled his plate closer and dug her fork into the creamy slice of heaven. The pie made it almost worth being dragged there on her anniversary.

  As she expected, the conversation at the table turned to sports. Lonnie got up and joined another group of mourners while Gary and the winery employees talked about basketball. After finishing her pie and eating just the meringue off Gary’s, she got up to find the restroom. If she just happened to open the door to the master bedroom, it would practically be an accident.

  A portrait of Allison in her wedding gown hung in the hallway. She looked beautiful in her beaded dress and long train. Gary had said the couple had no children. Deena thought Allison would have no trouble finding another man to spend the rest of her life with.

  The hallway looked like the typical three-bedroom arrangement and all the doors were closed. Guessing the first door on the left led to a guest bedroom, Deena skipped it and headed for the second, thinking that it could be the master or possibly a second guest room. She turned the knob and opened the door to find Officer Linndorf talking to Allison. “Excuse me,” she said and quickly closed it.

  Just then a woman walked out of the bathroom on the other side of the hall. Deena ducked inside and locked the door behind her. Not only was she embarrassed, but she didn’t even get a good look at the bedroom. She stared in the mirror and took a few deep breaths, trying to slow down her heart rate.

  Could the police really be questioning poor Allison at her husband’s funeral reception? If so, she was going to have a word with Detective Guttman. That just wasn’t right. Allison had looked upset and Linndorf was standing there with his hands on his gun belt like the police do when they want to look tough or when they’re preparing to draw a weapon.

  Deena planned how she’d escape this situation without having to face Allison again. She texted Gary, saying she would be coming out of the bathroom in one minute and that they needed to leave right away. She got a return message saying “Ok” and then put her ear to the door. She didn’t hear any voices or footsteps and figured the coast was clear. She slowly opened the door and hurried to her waiting husband.

  When they got outside, he asked, “Are you okay? Did all that pie make you sick?”

  She walked ahead of him to the car. When they got inside, she let out a sigh of relief. “I’m fine, I was just ready to go.”

  Gary started up the car. “But I didn’t even get a chance to speak to Allison.”

  “I spoke to her for both of us,” Deena said as she put on her seat belt. “Don’t worry. I’m sure I made an impression on her.”

  Chapter 3

  A few days later Deena got a call from her boss’s new secretary, Paulette. She said a woman who wouldn’t give her name wanted an appointment to meet with her.

  “With me?” Deena asked. “Are you sure she wanted to meet with me and not with Ian?”

  “She asked for you by name. Do you want me to set it up?”

  “Sure,” Deena said, wondering who in the world would ask for her directly.

  The more she thought about it, the more certain Deena felt that it was likely someone trying to sell her life insurance or to get her to sign up for some pyramid scheme. Either way, Deena was excited to get back to the office. Since she had been working at the thrift store after Sandra and Ian’s baby was born, she was itching for a new assignment. Hopefully, Ian would have some cases that required her special investigative talents. She didn’t care if it was trailing a cheating husband or spying on a crooked employee, she was just ready to do something useful.

  When she pulled up to the restored Victorian house that served as Ian Davis’s law office, she noticed a woman sitting out front in her car talking on her phone. Deena wondered if this was the woman with whom she had an appointment. She didn’t want to stare, so she went inside and greeted Paulette. Deena had only met her once before.

  Paulette had a wide, welcoming smile. “How are you, Mrs. Sharpe? Is there anything I can get you?” She grabbed Deena’s coat to hang it on the hall tree.

  “First of all, please call me Deena. And second, I can manage my own coat.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs.... I mean, Deena. I’m still getting used to working in a real office. When Mr. Davis gave me this job so I could meet the terms of my probation, I started watching different TV shows to see how I was supposed to behave. I’ve been practicing.”

  Deena smiled. “Relax. I’m sure you’ll do fine. Do you know if that woman sitting out there in her car is waiting for me?”

  Paulette went to the large front window and looked out. “I don’t know. I don’t recognize her though.”

  “Well, I’ll be in my office. Just ring me when she gets here.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Paulette said, taking her seat back behind the desk.

  Deena looked around her small office. Except for a thin layer of dust on her desk, everything looked as she had left it. She felt right at home. After all, Sandra wasn’t just the boss’s wife, she was Deena’s best friend. In fact, she and Gary were baby Sylvia’s godparents.

  Ugh. She still had a hard time accepting that the Davises gave their baby the same name as Deena’s mother-in-law. She hoped baby Sylvia wouldn’t grow up to be a snooty busybody.

  The phone rang.

  “Ms. Deena, your appointment lady is here. I can’t tell you her name because she won’t give it to me.”

  “That’s fine,” Deena said. “Let her know I’ll be right out.”

  Note to self: Talk to Paulette about her phone etiquette. Deena took an old red scarf that had been hanging in her office and wiped off the desktop before straightening her jacket and walking out to greet the mystery woman.

  “Hi, I’m Deena Sharpe.” She reached out her hand.

  The petite brunette did the fingertip shake and simply said, “Hi.”

  That was usually the sign of an insecure person or a genteel Southerner. From her appearance, the woman could be either. She wore a cheap polyester dress that was a size too large and had on loafers in serious need of a good polish. Her mousy-brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail—not the high-up, cutesy kind, but the low, lying on her neck kind. With no makeup and eyeglasses that made her look older than she probably was, all Deena could think of was an elementary school librarian in serious need of a makeover.

  Deena led the woman down the hall. She really wasn’t used to meeting with clients in her own office; they usually met in Ian’s office or in the small conference room.

  The woman took the chair across from Deena’s desk and clutched her handbag in her lap.

  “So, what can I do for you?” Deena asked. “But before you say anything, I want to make it clear that I’m not a lawyer.”

  “Oh, I know that, Mrs. Sharpe. You’re the reason I’m here. My name is Edwina Granger, and I want to hire you to catch the person who killed my brother. And, I know who did it.”

  Deena was totally caught off guard. “Are you talking about Drew Granger?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I know that the Maycroft police said he killed himself, but I think he was murdered.”

  “I see. So you’ve talked to the police.”

  “No, ma’am. I read about it in the newspapers.”

  There was a slight twang in her voice, and she sat pencil straight as though she were applying for a job. Except for the posture, nothing about her said “upper-class heir of the Granger fortune.” If she were indeed on the Granger family tree, her branch must have broken and fallen off.

  Deena realized she should be taking note
s and fumbled in the desk drawer for paper and pen while she collected her thoughts. Not being a licensed private detective, she couldn’t take the case on her own. Perhaps the woman wanted to hire the law firm. Either way, Deena needed to hear her out. She was a Granger, after all. “Let’s start at the beginning. You say your name is Edwina Granger.” Deena wrote it down. “And you state that Drew—”

  “Andrew...” Edwina corrected.

  “Andrew Granger was your brother.”

  Could this be the sister she overheard Allison talking about at the reception? If so, the woman hadn’t been in touch with her brother for years. “Are you Andrew Granger’s only sister?”

  “Yes, ma’am. And he’s my only brother.”

  Ah-ha. The estranged sister was back in town to make trouble. To Edwina she said, “What exactly was your relationship like with your brother before he died?”

  “Oh, we were close. We talked at least once a week.”

  Her answer came quick, almost as if rehearsed. “Really? In person or on the phone?”

  “On the phone. I don’t live around here.”

  None of this jived with what Allison had told Brown Suit. She had said Drew had cut all ties with his sister. Perhaps they kept up their relationship in secret. But why?

  “Where do you live?” Deena poised her pen over the notepad ready to write down the address.

  “Not in Texas. I live in another state.”

  That narrowed it down to forty-nine. “Um, could you tell me which one?”

  “No,” Edwina said and squeezed the patent leather handbag tighter in her lap. “Not until I know if you are going to help me.”

  Deena was used to questioning hostile witnesses, but usually they were on the other side of the case. Potential clients were generally more forthcoming than this.

  “Well, then can you tell me when you last spoke to your brother?”

  “It was Wednesday, the day before he was murdered.” She said it with the same emotion a person would use when placing their order at a McDonald’s drive-thru.