Family Matters (A Gracie Andersen Mystery Book 1)

by Laurinda Wallace

  Matthew Minders hadn’t changed much. He was tall and lanky, but a little heavier than in high school. His curly blond hair was still out of control, although it was much shorter now. He was dressed in faded jeans and a green T-shirt that sported a white dragon logo with “Coach” embroidered underneath.

  The Village Park was full of T-ball players and parents. Cheering rose from both fields, and it looked like the short, helmeted players, in bright red and blue uniforms were actually advancing around the bases. Gracie and Matthew had been catching up on life, and why he didn’t show up very often in Deer Creek as they watched the two games from a distance. Haley sniffed an invisible trail through the dense grass and then flopped in the shade of a half-dead elm near the picnic area. Matthew stood with his right leg propped on the seat of the redwood-stained picnic table. Gracie watched Haley sleep.

  “So, what do you want to know about Charlotte? You sounded a little mysterious on the phone.”

  “I know. As a matter of fact, it is a little mysterious. My Uncle Stan, now my late uncle, handed me a bunch of information about Charlotte’s death with no explanation. Unfortunately, we didn’t get to talk about it before his untimely death last week. Your name has come up a couple of times, and I was hoping you could shed some light on that night.”

  “It was terrible. The wind and rain were really something. I saw a car and got part of a license number.”

  “Did you see it happen?” Gracie asked softly, swallowing hard.

  “No, but…” His voice shook, and pain showed in his eyes.

  “Did you?”

  “I found her in the street. It was the most awful thing I’ve ever gone through. She was so still. It didn’t look like Charlotte when I first got there.”

  “What about the car? Did you see the car after you found her?”

  “No, it was before. I was walking up Mill toward Main Street, when a car flew past me, fishtailing on the wet leaves. I turned around to look at it because it was so out of control and caught a glimpse of the plate, as it passed under a street light. I really didn’t get a good look at the car because my head was down. When I got up to the intersection, I saw something in the street; I wasn’t sure what it was. At first, I thought it was a dog. The streetlight was out at the corner, so it wasn’t well-lit. A car was coming down Main toward her, and then I could see it wasn’t a dog. I flagged the car to stop, and then we checked on her. It was pretty bad, Gracie. I haven’t ever talked about that night much, just to the police, and then I just wanted to forget it.” He sat down on the bench with his back to the table and leaned back. Gracie did the same.

  “I can understand that.” Gracie’s mind flew to the day she found Michael. If only she could forget that hellish scene.

  “What did the police say about the plate number?”

  “Not much. I gave them the information, but nothing ever came of it. I could’ve made a mistake, but I don’t think so. If only I’d gotten the whole thing. WY 7. I’m not sure if the number was the first or the last. It was pretty fast.”

  “Seems like the cops could have figured something out with that much.”

  “I thought so too, but nothing happened. I really wanted to help, but I guess the information wasn’t enough. Charlotte was such a good friend. I was having a hard time that last year of high school, but she was always there with a good word and that beautiful smile. She wouldn’t go out with me though.” He rubbed his hand over the light stubble on his chin and smiled.

  “Who was in the car that stopped?” Gracie hadn’t ever heard this information before.

  “I’m not sure. It wasn’t anyone locala couple from out of town. I think they were staying at the Glen Iris Inn to see the leaves or something like that. I ran to the Randall’s, which was the closest house, and called the ambulance.”

  “Did they see or hear anything? Their house was pretty close to the corner.”

  “They said they’d heard some tires squealing, but they heard that all the time, so they didn’t think anything of it.”

  “I guess that makes sense. Plus the wind was blowing pretty hard.”

  “It sure was. It was an icy rain, and the wind was whipping like it was November or December already.”

  “Why didn’t the sheriff’s department keep pursuing the case? It was a hit-and-run after all. I can’t believe my Aunt Shirley and Uncle Stan would have just let it drop.” Gracie picked at a rough cuticle on her index finger.

  “I don’t know. I remember my parents talking about their wanting resolution and the sheriff had done his best, but it was just going to drag on and on.”

  “There was never any resolution, though, if the driver was never caught. It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “It didn’t to me either. But what did I know? I was just a 17-year-old geeky preacher’s kid, hoping to graduate and get outta here.” He gave her a crooked grin.

  Gracie laughed, remembering excruciating Sunday school classes as a teenager. Matthew took all the pressure for the right answers. The teacher, Mr. Bannister, loved asking tough questions of the pastor’s son. One favorite was if the Nephilim in Genesis were some aberrant race of human giants.

  “I guess you had the short end of the stick on that. Remember those challenging Sunday school classes?”

  “Yeah, they were great. I guess good old Mr. Bannister thought I’d been to seminary already. That class pretty much cured me of any thoughts of the pastorate. My mother was bucking for the only son to go to seminary, but by high school, I was tired of life in the fishbowl. You spend a lot of time being a good example and keeping a low profile.” He dropped his foot from the bench and hoisted himself on the table top.

  “I can imagine. At least you’ve got a real life now.”

  “Yes, and it’s one of the reasons that Deer Creek isn’t high on my visiting list. My parents come down to Jamestown every other month. They see our kids, and we have a good visit. It’s good for them too. They get a day out of the public eye.”

  “Your mom is still coming up with new programs. We’ve even got one of her projects working for us.”

  “Second Chances, right? She needs to keep busy so that the church doesn’t suck all her time. It gives her an excuse to not attend every Missionary Circle meeting or organize every fundraiser. Of course, Dad depends on her for a lot of things. He’s not the most organized person, and she keeps him focused and on time for things.”

  “Sounds like my parents. Mom runs a tight ship, and Dad benefits. If she didn’t, Dad would just putter around the house and never finish anything. They’ve been traveling a lot since they both retired last year.”

  The conversation rambled to more pleasant memories. They both had a good laugh remembering long summer afternoons when they were kids, biking down to the creek to swim with the gang that included Charlotte, Matthew, Jim, Michael, her brother Tom, and Gaile, one of Matthew’s three sisters. Sometimes they’d get a watermelon from Hatfield’s long gone little grocery store that had the best produce. One of the guys always had a jackknife, and they’d cut it up into big slices and eat the whole thing. The juice was cool and ran from their hands to their elbows, creating a sticky mess. Inevitably, there was a seed-spitting contest. The boys were proud of their prowess and ability to disgust the girls. They’d swim again to dissolve the sweet glueyness and make themselves presentable to their respective mothers. Matthew broke her reverie.

  “Well, sounds like families are pretty much the same everywhere.”

  “Not exactly. I do have some other questions about Charlotte…and Isabelle too.”

  Matthew shot her a quizzical look. “OK. I’m not sure what else you want to know. I really don’t know any more about the accident.”

  “Not the accident, but what was going on with Charlotte right before she died. Do you know if she was dating anybody?”

  “No….” he said slowly. “She was a real flirt with the football team, but I don’t know if she was dating anyone in particular. She used to wait
for a couple of different guys from time to time. I don’t even know if I can remember their names.”

  “Did she ever talk to you about a Lancelot or Galahad?”

  “As in King Arthur?”

  Gracie nodded.

  “Sometimes Charlotte talked like she was the princess in a tower. She could be a little dramatic.”

  “She came by that honestly. Isabelle is certainly a drama queen, and my Aunt Shirley…well, I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”

  Matthew laughed. “My mother has a few stories about your Aunt, I’m afraid.”

  “I always thought they were pretty tight.”

  “Well, you could say that. I shouldn’t say it, but it was more like Lincoln who said something to the effect of keeping your enemies close, so you know what they’re up to.”

  “Oh, uh, well, that puts a different light on things.”

  Gracie’s admiration meter went up the scale exponentially for his mother. She also wondered why she hadn’t seen this side of Gloria Minders before. Gracie mentally chided herself for being so dense. She decided to go for the shocker question and see how Matthew reacted.

  “Did you know that Charlotte was pregnant when she was killed?”

  “Really.” Matthew’s tone was flat and un-shocked. Slightly disappointed with his reaction, Gracie forged ahead.

  “From Charlotte’s diary entries, I think it was this Lancelot or Galahad she wrote about, but I can’t be sure. I’d sure like to piece more of what was going on with her that last summer and fall. My Aunt Shirley kept both of her daughters on a short leash when it came to boys. Of course, Isabelle was smart enough to hook Tim in college and marry a week after she graduated. The Bakers were upper crust enough for Aunt Shirley. Money and prestige were what it was about for her.”

  “Not bitter or anything, are we?” Matthew gave Gracie a sideways glance reminiscent of his gloating at the seed-spitting contests.

  Gracie laughed, “I guess I get on my high horse when I’m talking about my family. They mostly drive me crazy.”

  “Your parents are pretty laid back people and so is your brother.”

  “Yeah, well, they are, but the rest of my mother’s family, the zillion cousins in Wyoming and Allegany Counties, are all a little different, and Isabelle has always had my number.”

  “Isabelle has always had everybody’s number.”

  “She is a piece of work. She’s even trying to implicate me in my Uncle Stan’s death.”

  “You’re kidding. What’s she doing?”

  “She’s been feeding bits of half-truths to the investigator, who keeps coming back to ask me a few more questions.”

  “I thought it was ruled an accident, from what my parents just said.”

  “Since Isabelle has been so upset by the Charlotte papers and now with the stunt she’s pulling with the police, I’m beginning to think there’s more to everything than meets the eye.”

  “You can’t think that Isabelle—”

  Gracie interrupted, “I don’t know what to think, but I do know I need to get to the bottom of what happened to Charlotte. Uncle Stan felt it was important enough to entrust this information to me and not Isabelle, so I have an obligation to him and Charlotte to figure it out. Maybe it wasn’t an accident for Charlotte, and maybe it wasn’t an accident for Uncle Stan. It’s pretty strange that he’s at the bottom of the stairs the day I stop in to see him about Char’s papers. The sheriff’s department is still investigating his death.”

  “Wow, Gracie, I don’t know about all of this. Those are serious accusations.” Matthew stretched his long legs out and flexed his left knee a couple of times.

  “Everybody else thinks I’m overreacting, but maybe there’s more to Charlotte’s death than a hit-and-run driver. That’s why I’m hoping you can help unravel what happened that night with Charlotte.”

  “I’ve told you what I know, Gracie. I couldn’t say who Char was dating, and I didn’t know she was pregnant. She didn’t confide in me like a girlfriend. Maybe her friends knew, but I don’t know what difference that would make after all these years.”

  Gracie could feel Matthew’s exasperation.

  “I’m sorry, Matt. I know it’s something you don’t want to think about. Believe me, I understand.”

  “I know, Gracie, and I’m sorry about that. You must still be dealing with stuff yourself. You’ve experienced a lot of personal loss. It’s understandable.”

  “It’s better than it used to be, but Charlotte and Uncle Stan don’t have anything to do with Michael or the baby.”

  People forgot that she lost the two people she loved most in the world. The tiny baby wrapped tightly in a hospital receiving blanket looked like he was just sleeping. But he never opened his eyes or drew a breath.

  “Right.” He paused. “And the baby. Gracie, you have been through more than I realized.”

  She scuffed the dirt under the bench with her sneaker. She needed to regain her composure to continue.

  “Life goes on, or so they tell me, but I seem to be dealing with a lot of death lately. Some old history and some fresh. I’m hoping you can help figure some of it out. Do you remember anything else about the car?”

  She had to get back on track and not allow her emotions to rule. Matthew adjusted his position on the table and made a visible effort to relax.

  “Like I said, I didn’t get a good look at it—just that partial license plate. I think the car was a dark green or blue. It was a big car, maybe a Buick or Chrysler. It looked like a lot of cars around town, I guess, but it might not have been the car that hit Char.”

  “Did the car look familiar? It had a WY plate, so it must have been somebody from Wyoming County.”

  “It looked like a lot of the big cars around, I guess. My father, your father, even your uncle and a lot of other people in town had big dark cars back then.”

  “Did Charlotte ever talk about Isabelle or her mother?”

  “It was the usual teenager complaintsnot enough freedom, parents are unreasonableyou know the stuff we said. Char did get pretty quiet when school started. She kept to herself, which, now that I think about it, was really out of character for her. I guess finding out you’re pregnant would change your perspective.”

  “Pretty much. I wasn’t around, so I don’t know how she was acting or if family tensions were high. That’s why I was hoping you’d shed some light on what she was talking about or to whom before she was killed.”

  “Sorry, I haven’t been more help, but that’s about all I remember. Although now that you mention who she was talking to, I think she was really close with Miss Russell, the cheerleading coach. I do remember Charlotte hanging out to talk with her when practice was over.”

  “I left a message for Miss Russell the other day, but haven’t heard back. I guess I need to call her again.”

  “She might be a good one to talk to about what was on Char’s mind during those last few weeks.”

  Matthew slid from the picnic table and brushed off the backside of his jeans. “Well, Gracie, it was good seeing you, but I’d better get going.”

  “Thanks for taking the time to talk, Matt. I really appreciate it. I know it wasn’t easy.”

  Gracie whistled for Haley, who jerked her head up, stood, shook, and then trotted to the picnic table. They walked slowly across the grass, noticing that the T-ball games were over, and everyone was headed to their vehicles too.

  “It’s OK. I’d like to find out who the driver was myself. Those were bad times for everyone. I wish I had been a few minutes earlier. I might have been able to stop it from happening. I wish I had seen the driver, or at least, known whose car was speeding down Mill that night. I wish a lot of things were different. But you’d better be careful, Gracie. Sometimes it’s better to let things be, you know.”

  His eyes were sad, and he shoved his hands into his pockets. Gracie was unable to formulate a comeback. Everyone was telling her the same thing. Matthew broke the awkward silence.
r />   “Well, I’d better pick up Cindy and the kids at my parents. We’re headed to Letchworth Park for a picnic at the Lower Falls. I do have to show the kids my old stomping grounds every so often.”

  He stopped on the edge of the asphalt in front of his mini-van and turned to Gracie.

  “Keep in touch, Gracie.”

  “I will, and if you remember anything else…”

  “I will call you. Take care of yourself.” He slid into the van and shut the door.

  Gracie opened the back door of the RAV4 to let Haley in.

  “Hi, Gracie.”

  She turned to see Greg, Isabelle’s son, walking toward her.

  “Hey, Greg. How are you holding up?”

  “OK, I guess.”

  “Do you help with T-ball?”

  “Yeah, I started this year. Mom says I’d better make sure I’ve got lots of community activities and good grades to get into the best colleges.”

  “She’s right on that. It’s pretty competitive anymore. Not like the olden days when I went.”

  Greg laughed and brushed his thick brown hair from his eyes. He wore jeans shorts with a red T-shirt that said Hawks on it.

  “I thought it would be a pain, but I kinda like coaching the little kids. They’re pretty funny, most of the time.”

  “I’m a little surprised that your Mom allows you to talk to me.”

  “Well, she didn’t say not to, and you are one of my coolest cousins, so…”

  “Thanks. I’m not feeling so cool these days, though. Has the sheriff’s department finally finished with your Grandpa’s investigation?”

  “Mostly, I think. Mom said that they think it was a robbery. Maybe Grandpa tried fighting the robber, and he fell going after the guy or something like that.”

  “Was something stolen then? I hadn’t heard that there was anything missing from the house.”

  Gracie was wondering what could be missing. The house looked in order to her, but then the shock of finding Uncle Stan wiped attention to detail from her mind that day. Everything looked normal on her secret trip to the house too.