“You read my mind. I need some serious caffeine.” Gracie gratefully sank down into her high back swivel chair and threw the bank bag in the half-opened bottom drawer.
“So do I. It’s been an interesting day.”
“No kidding. First the family funeral and that stress, and then the Alison incident.”
Jim poured two mugs of coffee, handed one to her, and sank down on the recliner and pulled the lever. Gracie noticed the weariness in Jim’s handsome, chiseled face as he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. She took a sip of the strong coffee, leaned back in her chair, and put her legs up on the desk. Haley found a rawhide chip from a basket and settled next to the desk, chewing intently.
“Was the funeral that bad?”
“No. Not really. Nice service and everything, but Isabelle and I got into it, as usual, at the dinner. She’s pretty mad at my parents for going on that cruise.” Gracie massaged her forehead, trying to still the dull ache that threatened to become a full-blown migraine. She rummaged in the top desk drawer for some ibuprofen. “Mom and Dad knew there was a good chance Aunt Shirley wouldn’t be around when they got back. They had said their good-byes. Aunt Shirley had even told them to keep their plans, which was surprising too.” She washed three pills down with a swig of coffee.
“So, what’s Izzy’s problem?” Jim’s strong fingers tapped the white ceramic mug.
“You know how Isabelle thinks. The world revolves around her, and we’re all supposed to toe the line when it comes to family obligations.”
“Well, let your mother take it up with her when she gets home. You shouldn’t have to defend your parents; they can talk to Izzy.” Jim finished his coffee and brought the recliner upright. “Are you OK? You know, dealing with the funeral and all?”
“I think so, but it was harder than I thought. I miss Michael so much, Jim.” Her voice caught, and tears began to slide down her cheeks. She quickly grabbed a Kleenex and blew her nose. “Sorry. I guess…”
Before she could finish, Jim had jumped from the recliner and pulled her from her chair. His arms were wrapped around her, crushing her with one of his famous bear hugs.
“Hey, Chief, we all do, but you’re gonna be fine. You are fine.”
When he released her, Gracie took a deep gulping breath. No matter how busy she kept herself or how hard she tried to forget, the tears still came.
“Maybe. Thanks for putting up with me.”
“No problem. But we need more responsible help in here. Any ideas?” Jim was all business again and settled himself back in his painfully ugly plaid-upholstered recliner.
“Beth’s going to ask around to see if any of her friends need a job. I should have anticipated summer vacations and that we’d need extra kennel helpers.”
“I guess your research was on the money, literally, with this business. I’ll check at the restaurant in the morning when I’m having breakfast. The kids working there usually know who’s looking. Midge’ll know for sure. She knows all.”
Gracie rose from her chair and refilled her mug. “Great. Well, I’m beat. Are you going to check on everybody and set the alarm?”
“Sure thing, Chief. I’m beat too.” Jim set his mug by the coffeemaker, and headed down the long kennel corridor. The yips and barks of greeting were constant as he made sure everyone was settled for the night.
Gracie turned off the light, shut the office door, and headed for the house. She passed the RAV4 and suddenly remembered the bag of books. The books wouldn’t unload themselves. She might as well do it now. With shopping tomorrow, she needed the back seat space anyway. Grabbing the tattered brown paper bag, she carefully balanced it in her arms without spilling the coffee. She made it up the steps to the kitchen and into the house. She set her mug on the counter and the bag onto the floor.
Haley, in her usual exuberant manner, bounded in ahead, already at the French doors.
“Hey, girl, ready to take a run?”
As she opened the doors, she saw Jim’s Explorer pull out of the rear parking lot and head down the road toward Route 39. The sun was just beginning to lower in the sky. The long summer days were welcome after the endless darkness of the Western New York winters. Gracie sucked in a deep breath of early evening air filled with the heavy smell of corn tassels in the distance. Sweet corn would be ready soon. That meant the church’s annual chicken barbecue and corn roast were just around the corner. Summer was a wonderful time of year in the Genesee Valley. The third cutting of alfalfa was underway, the corn was high, tomatoes were beginning to ripen, and the rolling hills were lush with green. The brown heads of several does popped up from the tall grass in the field beyond her lawn. Crickets were warming up to chirp their evening song, and Gracie took another deep breath of the cooling night air. Thankfully, the headache was beginning to relent.
Grabbing Haley’s mostly shredded squeaky toy, she threw it to the back of the large fenced backyard. Haley joyfully charged after the beloved toy and brought it back in seconds, her thick tail waving wildly. After a few more minutes of retrieving, Gracie called it quits. The dog went directly to the water bowl in the kitchen and slurped down most of it. She lay panting on the cool tile floor, water dripping off her shiny black jowls.
“I’m going to get the mail. I’ll be right back.” Haley looked up with sad eyes as Gracie made a quick exit out the kitchen door to the mailbox. When she returned with the armful of mail, the trail of brown paper bag pieces went all the way through the kitchen to the living room. Books were scattered in another trail leading to the patio doors. Haley was nowhere to be seen.
“Haley,” Gracie growled with hands on her hips.
Haley innocently appeared from the bedroom with her pathetic sock monkey squeaky toy, looking with mild interest at the path of destruction.
“When are you ever going to grow up?”
Haley merely wagged her tail and lowered herself into the plush dog bed in front of the fireplace. Gracie bent over, picking up the trail of dog books and romance novels, and spotted it. It was one of those diaries you poured your heart out into while you endured high school. It had a worthless clasp that supposedly locked. The cover was pink striped. The clasp wasn’t locked; it was broken. She opened it quickly, burning with curiosity. Maybe it was Aunt Shirley’s or Isabelle’s diary. It was not. It was Charlotte’s. Gracie felt her heart jump and sink all at once. Uncle Stan had given her Charlotte’s diary.
Chapter 3
Charlotte. The cousin, who had been like a sister. The beautiful, sweet, but rebellious cousin, who was the exact opposite of her sister Isabelle. Her life was cut short on a rainy October night. Run down by an unknown and supposedly drunk driver. Gracie’s stomach churned in the remembering. She had answered the phone in her dorm room at SUNY Geneseo and listened in disbelief as her father told her that her cousin was gone. Gracie had driven home that night without remembering how she got to Deer Creek.
She turned back the cover again and looked at the neat feminine script that read: “Charlotte Browne, Private.” The first date in the diary was three months before her death. Charlotte had been just 18, two years younger than Gracie. Could it be more than 20 years ago? The freshness of the pain stung and surprised her. Too many memories had come back today. She couldn’t look at the diary tonight. She slammed the cover shut. An unwelcome emptiness and sadness crept over her. Haley’s wet nose on her hand snapped her back to the present.
“OK, Haley, I know it’s supper time.” She laid the small book on the coffee table and went to the kitchen to scoop out Haley’s kibble.
Gracie shoved a plate of leftover casserole in the microwave, hoping that it was less than a week old. She picked at the chicken and pasta, while Haley happily crunched. She turned on the floor fan to move the humid air in the living room. Haley strolled over and flopped in front of it, panting and looking expectantly at her mistress. Gracie bent over the oak coffee table and fingered the striped cover once again. Tears began rolling down her face.
“Why
do the ones you love the most get taken? Why doesn’t the hurt go away? Why am I the one who has to keep going?”
Her heart was pounding, and the tightness in her chest took her breath away. Gracie took slow, deep breaths, attempting to slow her racing heart. Haley got up, whined, and circled her solicitously. The medicine cabinet was not far away. The prescription bottles stood in a neat row. The pills slid down easily with the glass of water. It had been a horrible day, and she wanted to find the painlessness and nothingness of sleep. Gracie waited for the familiar warmth of the pills to relax her. Collapsing on the bed with two pillows propping her head, she could only hope the pills would work long enough for her to get a few hours of sleep. Haley jumped up next to her and stretched out comfortably.
Chapter 4
Haley’s barking woke a disoriented Gracie. The heaviness of prescription-aided sleep clouded her reactions. She suddenly realized that the kennel’s security alarm was going off, and frantic barking competed with the piercing sound. Haley ran back and forth to the kitchen door while Gracie struggled to get her bearings. She slipped on worn leather huaraches and managed to clip a leash on Haley. The attempt to control the 80 pounds of excited dog and the adrenaline rush quickly cleared her foggy brain. She grabbed the phone and punched in 9-1-1.
The dispatcher told her the security company had already called in the alarm and to wait for a deputy to arrive, but that wasn’t going to happen. The dogs’ safety was her priority. She held Haley’s leash tightly and stepped out into the steamy and raucous night. The motion lights were on in the yard, and the lights on the backside of the kennels shone starkly against the darkness. Haley’s hackles were raised, a steady growl rumbled from her throat. The alarm continued its ear-splitting tone.
“Good girl. Everything is all right. Let’s check it out.” Gracie was trying to convince herself and Haley. The window of the front door to the reception area was broken, and dagger-like pieces of glass were scattered on the floor inside. She didn’t want Haley to cut her feet. Giving a quick jerk on the leash, she firmly told her to sit and stay. Haley, amazingly enough, did both. Shoving the door open, she kicked back some glass, and stumbled to the wall behind the reception desk to the security keypad. She punched in the code, and immediate relief hit the night air. Barking decrescendoed, and Haley was whining and poking her face into the reception area. The quiet was quickly shattered by the sound of sirens. The sheriff’s department was certainly speedy tonight. Like most law enforcement agencies, the Wyoming County Sheriff’s Department was chronically undermanned. There must have been a deputy just down the road to respond this fast. Gracie grabbed Haley’s leash as she turned to exit the reception area. The dogs began howling again as the wailing got closer. The Lab pulled at the leash, then sat to offer a sympathetic howl, her head raised skyward.
Two sheriff’s cars pulled into the driveway, scattering gravel as they came to a stop by the entrance. The sirens were cut, but the lights in the grills pulsated in the darkness. The barking once again began to subside.
“Mrs. Andersen?”
“Yes, deputy…”
“Stevens, ma’am.”
“Thanks for coming. I haven’t checked on the dogs yet. I need to make sure they’re OK.”
“Hold on. Before you go any further, let Deputy Williams and me check out the premises. We want to make sure it’s safe.”
“OK. I need to call my partner anyway.” Gracie stuck her free hand in her back pocket, realizing her cell phone was in the house.
“Who’d that be, ma’am?”
“Jim Taylor. He’s just up the road a couple of miles. Near the old Taylor farm on Valley View Road.”
“Yeah, I know the place. We’ll need you to go through the building with us after we check it out.” He pulled out a long flashlight from his Crown Vic, and the other deputy joined him. Gracie nodded and watched them go into the reception area. She pulled Haley back into the house, grabbed the kitchen phone, and dialed Jim’s number with shaking hands. She looked at her watch: 3:30. It had been a short night. The phone rang three times before he mumbled into the receiver.
“Jim, I need you over here. We’ve had a break-in.”
“What? Are you OK, Gracie?” His sleepy voice was suddenly crisp and alert.
“Yes, I’m fine. The sheriff’s department is here.”
“On my way.” The phone line went dead.
Gracie watched the inside lights go on in the corridors, and the barking once again took on a frenetic tone. She couldn’t wait; the dogs needed her. She quickly made her way back to the runs. Haley heeled perfectly as Gracie carefully picked her way through the reception area. The dog stepped gingerly, as if watching for glass. Her tail thumped against the doorway.
“I need to get these dogs calmed down,” she called through the corridor.
“Looks like whoever broke in is gone. You can go through,” Deputy Stevens shouted over the din.
She let go of Haley’s leash, allowing her to wander up and down the corridors, reassuring her canine buddies. The long training as a therapy dog was coming in handy tonight. Gracie began checking each run to make sure the dogs were all accounted for and OK. With Haley’s calming presence and Gracie’s confident voice, the kennel began to settle. Satisfied that everyone was fine, she quickly walked back to the reception area. The deputies stood surveying the mess. Papers were scattered everywhere, and the desk drawers were opened.
“Oh, no, they took the money.” A sick feeling swept over her. “No, wait a minute. I put it in my office. I need to check.”
Deputy Stevens followed Gracie to her office door.
“We didn’t see any damage in here, but you need to make sure.” The door was unlocked and Gracie anxiously hurried to open the bottom desk drawer. The bank bag was still there. She unzipped the bag. The cash and checks appeared to be intact. All were still rubber-banded as she had left them. Gracie let out a grateful sigh.
“Is it all there?” asked Deputy Williams. He had his clipboard and was scribbling quickly.
“I’m not sure, but I think so.” She felt like throwing up with relief.
“You usually leave all that money in an unlocked desk drawer?” Deputy Williams scowled officiously.
Before Gracie could answer Jim appeared in the doorway slightly out of breath. His shirttail was half in and half out of his jeans. His black hair was sticking out at various angles.
“Everything OK? Did they take anything?”
“We’re checking that out right now, uh Mr. Taylor, right?” Deputy Williams said glancing up from jotting on a thick leather-covered notepad.
“Right.”
“They didn’t get as far as the office. I forgot to put the bank bag in the safe. So we’re pretty lucky, even though I was stupid.”
“I guess the alarm must have scared them off. Are the dogs all right?”
“They’re fine. Haley helped get them settled down. Where is she anyway?”
At the sound of her name, Haley came out of the bathroom with a wet face.
“Not again. Why do you drink out of the toilet?” Gracie was embarrassed and disgusted all at once.
“I had a dog that did the same thing, Mrs. Andersen.” Deputy Stevens was obviously amused at Haley’s bad behavior. He had removed his hat to smooth back his blond military cut, which didn’t need smoothing. He was tall, extremely fit, and had that quarterback look. He looked to be in the 40ish age range. Deputy Williams was just the opposite; he was short with a bubble of a stomach that threatened to pop out of his tightly buttoned uniform. He’d removed his hat and was wiping sweat off a shining wide forehead with his white handkerchief.
Gracie sat down in her desk chair with a heavy weariness, her head in her hands. Haley pushed her wet muzzle into Gracie’s lap.
“Looks like you were pretty lucky tonight. We’ve had quite a rash of these robberies. They usually get some cash or electronics.” Deputy Williams scowled at her and finished writing on the metal clipboard.
“Ma’am, I’d recommend you remember to put your money in the safe,” Deputy Stevens gently rebuked Gracie.
“I agree, Deputy. It isn’t my usual practice. Kind of a tough day. That’s my only excuse.”
“Well, mistakes happen. I guess, except for a little damage, it’s not too bad.” Deputy Stevens adjusted his hat and put his flashlight back in his belt.
“The dogs are OK. That’s the important part,” Jim put in. “Do you have any leads on who’s involved in these break-ins?”
“We’re still investigating. They’ve cleaned out some businesses in Perry and houses at Silver Lake. Hey, Jack, I’ll walk around the property one more time with Mr. Taylor. Why don’t you check out around the house with Mrs. Andersen and make sure she’s all set. We’ll get back to you in the next day or two if we have any developments.”
“Thanks.” Gracie involuntarily shuddered at the thought the thieves might be in the shadow of her house.
Deputy Williams pulled out a long flashlight and swept his arm signaling Gracie to go ahead. Gracie grabbed Haley’s dragging leash and carefully led her back through the trashed reception area.
“I guess I’ve got my work cut out for me tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Deputy Williams was all business as he began walking the perimeter of the house, peering into bushes and checking windows.
Gracie waited with Haley near the kitchen door for the deputy to finish. Her T-shirt was damp, but her throat was dry. Haley sniffed the night air and growled softly. Her hackles were raised.
“It’s OK girl. We’re all right.” Gracie was not convinced, but she tried to sound sincere.
“Looks like you’re clear to go in. Don’t see any signs of entry or footprints around windows.” The deputy was mopping his forehead again.
Family Matters (A Gracie Andersen Mystery Book 1) Page 3