Deena grabbed her notepad and headed out the door to make the short drive to downtown Maycroft.
Her secret source was her best friend, Sandra Davis, her ex-boss’s wife. It was the kind of entanglement common to small-town life. The donut shop that the local cops frequented sat across the parking lot from the thrift shop Sandra managed. All Sandra had to do was keep her eye out for a police car and call Deena when she spotted Linndorf. Sandra already knew about the case Deena was investigating from her husband, Ian. Sandra had insisted Deena stop by after talking to Linndorf to give her an update.
Deena had gladly agreed. She’d get a chance to hold her goddaughter and shop for vintage treasures at the same time.
Linndorf was seated in a booth near the back reading the Tribune. He looked up as she approached, but then returned to studying the sports page.
Larry Linndorf wasn’t what you would typically call handsome. His eyebrows needed a serious trim and his teeth were crooked. But he had boyish dimples and bright blue eyes that many women would find attractive. She had encountered him a number of times in the past when working on various cases. She had always thought of him as courteous and semi-competent.
Deena cleared her throat with all the subtlety of a lion’s roar. When he peeked back over his newspaper, she started in. “Officer Linndorf, I was wondering if I could have a few minutes of your time to talk about Andrew Granger.”
That got his attention. “You’re Mrs. Sharpe, right?”
“Call me Deena.” She stuck out her hand to shake and hoped he wouldn’t mash it as hard as Lonnie Fisher had. “I just spoke to Detective Guttman and wanted to ask you a few questions for the article I’m writing for the paper about Andrew Granger.” Everything she said was true, although she left out the detail that the detective hadn’t exactly given her the okay to interview him.
“You talked to Guttman?”
She nodded.
Linndorf motioned for her to sit. “Want some coffee?”
“No, I’m fine,” she said. “I understand you were the first officer on the scene when Mr. Granger was found dead. Is that right?”
He folded his newspaper, then took a drink from the oversized mug. “Well, yes and no. I was the first officer to respond to the call, but I didn’t know Mr. Granger was dead until after I got there. The caller had said she was worried about someone in the house.”
Deena pulled out her notepad. “I see. And who was the caller? Allison Granger?”
He raised an eyebrow. “No. It was the neighbor. Said she heard a loud noise and went to check on it. She called into the station.”
“What happened when you got there?”
“I went inside and found Andrew Granger with a bullet in his head and a gun by his side. Not a pretty sight.”
“Was anyone else there? Did he leave a note?”
“He was alone. No note.”
“And how did you know it was a suicide? Did you check for gunshot residue on his hand?”
“GSR? No, of course not. You see, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out when a man has shot himself at close range. I’d rather not explain all the gory details, but it was obvious.”
“But aren’t those the details you need in order to rule out a murder? How are you so sure it wasn’t just staged to look like a suicide?”
Linndorf narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure you talked to Guttman?”
“Yes,” Deena answered. “You can call him if you’d like.”
Apparently, her demeanor portrayed enough confidence that he waved it off. “Hmm. Anything else?”
“Just one more question. The gun. Who was it registered to?”
“Andrew Granger, that’s who.” He checked his watch. “I’ve got to get back out there.” He stood up and tossed a few bills on the table. “If you think of any other questions, call Guttman. He knows this case as well as anyone.”
“I’ll be sure to do that.” She sat for a moment thinking about Linndorf’s last comment. If Guttman was so familiar with the case, why did he put her onto Officer Linndorf? Was there something about Linndorf that Guttman wanted her to find out for herself? She had a feeling there was more to the investigation than Linndorf had told her.
Sensing something was missing, she left the coffee shop more determined than ever to figure out what it was.
Chapter 10
When the staff meeting was finally over, Nina Davenport headed to the dormitory to check on Lucas. The door was open, so she knocked and went on in. Lucas was sitting on the edge of his bed while Belinda paced the floor.
“What’s going on here?” Nina looked to Belinda for an answer.
Lucas saw her and ran over and hugged her around the waist. At eleven years old, he was smaller than most of the other boys his age. According to his chart, he was initially a failure-to-thrive baby until his mother separated from his real father and moved in with her aunt. That was before his mother remarried and Lucas began acting out.
Belinda took a seat at the small table. “Lucas refuses to take responsibility for stealing Porter’s shoes. I’ve just been explaining how the consequences will be less severe if he just admits what he did.”
Nina peeled Lucas off her waist and knelt down in front of him. “Lucas, did you take Porter’s shoes?”
“No, Ms. D.” His eyes were moist, but he wasn’t crying. “I swear I didn’t.”
Nina brushed back his sandy-brown hair. “Okay, then. I believe you.”
A relieved expression crept across his face.
Belinda let out a groan. “Ms. Davenport, could I speak to you in private in the hallway?”
Nina stared into Lucas’s dark hazel eyes. The specks of gray-blue had returned. “I’ll be right back.”
Belinda pulled the door closed behind them. “Nina, I know how much you care for the boy, but the facts are clear. Lucas took those shoes and hid them under his bed. Another boy said he heard Lucas talking about them.”
“Talking about them and stealing them are two different things.”
Belinda shook her head. “How else did they get there?”
“I don’t know, but I plan to find out. Let me talk to him.”
“And what about the fighting?”
“Yeah, that’s a problem.” Nina wrung her hands as she looked back at the closed door. Playing referee between staff and the residents was one of the hardest parts of the job. “I’ll try to get to the bottom of the situation. Where are the shoes?”
“I gave them back to Porter. They are both restricted to their rooms for now. Please don’t let Lucas go outside. It will send a bad message to the other kids.”
Nina agreed. “I’ll come find you after I’ve talked to him.”
She went back inside Lucas’s room, being sure to leave the door propped open. He was lying on his bed, his hands behind his head. She sat at the small round table and waited for him to speak first.
At last, he did. “I want to go home.”
“I know you do. So do most of the boys here. But you know we have to be sure you’re ready. Can you tell me what happened with Porter?”
Lucas threw his legs off the bed and sat up. “I was at the barn brushing down Shiloh. These younger kids come up with Porter. He’s acting all tough like he’s lord of the flies or something.”
Nina couldn’t help but grin. She loved the fact that Lucas was an avid reader and would often use stories to make analogies.
“So, I ask what’s up and he says he wants his shoes back. I tell him I don’t have his shoes. He says, ‘Oh yeah? Brandon saw you take them.’ But Brandon wasn’t even there. I told him he was crazy and started back brushing Shiloh.”
“Do you think that was the best choice of words? Could you have said something besides calling him crazy?”
“I suppose I could have said, ‘Kind sir, perhaps you are mistaken.’” He said it with a corny British accent. “‘Perhaps we should call on Sherlock Holmes to track them down.’” He twirled an invisible handlebar mustache.
&
nbsp; Nina had to laugh. “I have a feeling that would have gotten you flattened.”
“Probably.”
“So, what happened?”
“He called me a liar and pushed me. He knocked me into Shiloh and she reared her head. That made me mad. I didn’t care that he pushed me, but he shouldn’t have scared the horse. So, I pushed him back.” He looked down at his feet. “You don’t have to say anything. I know I could have made a better choice.”
Nina waited. Sometimes being a counselor was so hard. What she wanted to say was that she’d have probably done the same thing. It was natural to resort to your fight or flight instinct, but these kids just had to learn to avoid confrontation whenever possible. “So, what could you have done instead?”
“I could have asked him why he thought I took them and said we should find an adult to work it out.”
Smiling, Nina nodded. “Very good. So why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know.” He lay back down on the bed, nearly hitting his head on the rail of the top bunk.
Nina pulled her chair closer. “I think you do.”
Lucas turned his head away and made a huffing sound. “I didn’t want those other kids to think I was a coward.”
“And why do you care what they think? Aren’t you supposed to be a role model here for the younger boys?”
“Yes.”
“And was getting in a fight setting a good example for them?”
“No.”
“Then why—”
Lucas jumped off the bed and stood squarely in front of Nina. “Because it felt just like being at home. I get in trouble when I lie and I get in trouble when I tell the truth. What does it even matter if I’m always getting blamed for everything that goes wrong?”
Nina’s heart ached and she wished she could throw her arms around the boy and tell him everything would be okay. But the truth was that it wouldn’t. Sometimes in life we are falsely accused of things. Sometimes we are bullied, even as adults. The important thing is to learn to deal with these situations calmly and rationally. But many adults couldn’t seem to learn that, much less an eleven-year-old boy.
“Sit down, Lucas.” She pointed to a chair. “Remember, while you’ve been here, your parents have been going to counseling back home. I’ve gotten good reports that they’re working hard to make things better for when you go back.”
“Do you know when that will be?”
Nina hated that question, whether she heard it from Lucas or any other boy. Since she was just a counselor, only Dr. Patton could sign off on the release of a child. This latest incident would likely cause an even longer delay. Since Lucas had been mandated by the court to be there, even his parents couldn’t bring him home without the psychologist’s consent.
“We’ll see,” Nina said and placed her hands flat on the table. “But for now, we’ve got a mystery to solve. We have to figure out how those shoes got under your bed.”
“Somebody else put them there. They were trying to frame me.”
“Who do you think it was?”
“Well, if we deduct it right—”
“Deduce,” Nina corrected him.
“Deduce it right, it was probably Brandon since he told Porter he saw me take them.”
“That sounds plausible.”
Lucas squinted and tilted his head. “What?”
“Plausible. It means that it is a good guess.”
“Plausible,” Lucas repeated. “That’s a cool word.”
“Look, you stay here while I go see what I can find out about the situation.”
“Thanks, Ms. D.”
Nina stood up just as Belinda came into the room pulling Porter behind her. She avoided eye contact with Nina. “Lucas, Porter has something to say to you.”
The boy had been crying and stared down at his feet. “Sorry I lied.”
“And what else,” Belinda prodded.
“I know you didn’t take my shoes. I lied and said Brandon snitched on you.”
Nina looked at Lucas.
“That’s okay,” he said. “I shouldn’t have pushed you back.”
Porter looked up, obviously surprised by the apology. “Sorry I hit you.”
Belinda nodded. “Okay, that’s enough for now, boys. We’ll talk more about this later.”
As Belinda and the boy were halfway out the door, Lucas called out to him, “Porter. Why’d you do it?”
The other boy stopped and looked back. “I wanted the other guys to think I was tough. I didn’t want them to call me a sissy.”
Lucas nodded. “Next time make a better choice.”
Nina and Belinda exchanged looks. Moments like this were few and far between in their line of work, but these were the times that made it all worthwhile.
Waiting until they were alone, Nina stood by the door and looked back at Lucas. “I’m proud of you.”
He grabbed his neck and made a gagging face. “Whatever. I’m still on restriction for now, right?”
“Right. There’s still the matter of fighting.”
He picked up a book off the wooden shelf next to the bed and lay back down. “I figured that was plausible.”
Chapter 11
As the garage door opened, Deena was surprised to see Gary’s car there. She hadn’t expected him home for at least another hour. Naturally, she worried something was wrong. She hurried inside to check on him. She found him sitting in his recliner watching a basketball game with the sound muted. His tie hung unknotted around his neck and his top button was open.
“What’s wrong?” She glanced around and found Hurley curled up in his usual spot. “Is it your mother? My brother? Did you get fired?”
“No, none of those. It’s me.”
“Are you sick? Are you dying? Are you leaving me? Because if you’re leaving me, I just might kill you.”
Gary put the footrest down on his chair and patted his leg for her to come sit in his lap.
She could feel her heart beating out of her chest. “No. Tell me before I drop dead.”
“Really, hon. Everything’s fine.”
“Then what is it?” She sat on the edge of the coffee table, her purse and keys still in her hands.
“I’ve just been thinking that it might be time for a change.”
“Like what? You’re not thinking of moving to Tulsa to be closer to your mother, are you?”
“No. I was thinking of starting my own business.”
Relief swept through her. She set down her things and moved over to the sofa. “Is this about you and Scott wanting to set up your own finance firm? I’ve told you before that I think you should do it. Together, you two have plenty of clients, and—”
“It’s not that. I was thinking of starting my own winery.”
Deena wasn’t sure she had heard correctly. “Did you say winery? As in dirt and grapes and such?”
“Yes. You see, driving out to Granger’s Grapes got me thinking. Do I really want to spend my last good years trapped in an office?”
“Yes. You do. You definitely do.”
Gary began rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, something he rarely did. “Think of it. You and me out in our very own field planting vines. You would be in one of those flowy dresses like they wear in Mamma Mia! I’d have on a straw hat and a plaid shirt. We’d be tilling the soil and creating a lasting legacy.”
Deena leaned back. “Tilling the soil? You don’t even like mowing the grass and cleaning the pool. Do you really see yourself with your hands in the dirt?”
“I saw Lonnie’s hands. They didn’t look too bad.”
“Of course not. He works in the office. They pay other people to work in the field.”
“Maybe now, but I’m sure he and Drew spent their share of time in the fields getting the vineyard to the point it is now.”
Deena walked over to Gary and sat in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Listen, I understand if you’re tired of your job. It happened to me, too, a few years back. That’s why I quit
teaching. But maybe you just need a vacation. You’ve been begging me to go to Italy. Maybe it’s time we take that trip.”
“It’s more than that. It’s having to put on a suit and tie every day and going to an office.”
“But you love your suits. You love your ties. Besides, you said you wanted to work until you were sixty-seven to maximize your retirement. That’s only six and a half more years. That will fly by and then we can move to a retirement community and you can play golf every day.”
Gary let out a heavy sigh. “Six and a half years. That’s two thousand three hundred and seventy-three days, not including leap days.”
Deena stood up and took his hand. “See there. You’re a math genius. You’re not a farmer. Let’s fix some dinner and have a glass of that new wine.”
Gary stood up and trudged toward the kitchen. “I could have been a farmer if I had wanted to.”
“Of course you could have. Just like the Grangers.”
Deena’s thoughts turned back to Allison Granger. Maybe she was tired of her life, too. Could she have killed her husband to have money to start over? Did he have a big life insurance policy? How much exactly was Granger’s Grapes Vineyard actually worth? Gary would know, but now wasn’t the right time to ask him.
If she wasn’t careful, he might start thinking he should buy their vineyard himself.
Chapter 12
Hunched down in her SUV, Deena waited until she saw Allison Granger pull out of her driveway and head off to work. Bankers’ hours, she thought. Must be nice to leave for work at a quarter till nine.
When Deena had taught high school, she was one of those teachers who arrived early and stayed late. She attributed it to meeting deadlines for the school’s newspaper and yearbook. Years later she finally admitted to herself that it was to avoid going home to an empty house and waiting for Gary. They hadn’t been able to have children, and all the high school kids she taught had never really been able to fill that void.
But what she needed now was to find the Grangers’ nosy neighbor. Perhaps it was a stay-at-home mom or retired curmudgeon who considered himself captain of the neighborhood watch.
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