by Tara Randel
She had a town to discover and a mystery to solve.
The night wrapped her in promise. And when the dark sky burst into bright flashes of red, blue, green, and gold, children cried out oohs and aahs with each explosion. Annie smiled and drank it all in.
Until a funny tingling started at the base of her neck. She looked around, wondering if someone was approaching her. But everyone around her was entranced by the fireworks. They weren’t the least bit interested in Annie.
Minutes passed, but not her hyper-awareness. The creepy feeling continued, as though someone was watching her. She glanced at Ian, but he too was watching one explosion after another in the sky. Standing, she stretched her legs, taking the opportunity to turn around and check out the area around her. Again, nothing out of the ordinary for an extraordinary night.
Okay, too much excitement for one day, she thought. No need to be paranoid. Turning her attention back to the grand finale, she couldn’t help but think that things were going along fine--weren’t they? And if they were, why did she get the feeling that something explosive was about to happen?
11
Annie awoke the next morning after a long night of peculiar dreams. Had someone been watching her? Still, there had been so many people in the park, what had she expected? The uneasy feeling had stayed with her as she drove home. She tried convincing herself that the car behind her was not following her, especially when it turned off before she arrived at her street. Once in the driveway, she sat in the car for a few minutes, her breathing tight, scanning the dark road behind her. When no car passed by, she finally got out of the car and hurried into the house.
Should she tell someone about this? She thought about calling Alice, but really, what would she say? Other than her suspicions that things seemed off, she had no proof that anyone was actually following her or sneaking around the house. This was more than she bargained for when she came back to Grey Gables.
Shaking it off, she made a pot of coffee, mentally planning her day. Spying the hardcover journal lying on the counter, she grabbed it and a pen before sitting at the kitchen table. Sometime during her sleepless night, she’d come up with the notion to keep a log of everything that had transpired so far. LeeAnn and the twins had given her this fancy journal before she left, making her promise to record every detail of her trip. At this point, she had plenty to write about.
Before Annie got to work penning her entry, Boots sashayed around her ankles, butting her head against Annie’s leg, clearly kissing up in hopes of scoring more crunchy food. “You just ate,” Annie scolded, only to be met with an irritable meow.
Chuckling, Annie jotted down the date she arrived at Grey Gables. She chronicled her impressions of the Victorian house, then listed subsequent events: following Boots to the attic and finding the large, covered frame, renewing her friendship with Alice and her encouragement to help find the identity of the young woman in the cross-stitch, and noting Ian’s help. The words flowed freely, including her impressions of meeting the members of the Hook and Needle Club and drawing them into the mystery. After all that, she included a section on how solving this mystery had taken on personal importance. Finally, she wrote in dark, bold letters: CLUES.
Beach scene. Cove, compared to stitched scene, a match. The landscape hasn’t changed much and the essence of the scene is still the same; evening sun casting shadows on the cove. Proximity to Grey Gables confirms find.
Bascom’s. Storefront scene, ascertained by Ian. Or rather, Ian’s father. Basic architecture of the building unchanged, the storefront currently different than in cross-stitch because of a new tenant.
Two down, two to go. Still, she couldn’t deny the thrill of the hunt. And she had to admit, she was getting pretty good at this. She brought the pen to her teeth, biting on the end as she pondered the remaining scenes. Where to look next?
She was about to call Alice for advice when the phone rang. When she heard Joanna’s voice, she couldn’t contain a big grin.
“Hi, Grammy. When are you coming home?”
“I’m not sure, sweetie. There’s still a lot to be done around the house.”
“Mama showed me a picture. The house is big.”
To a five year old, the rambling Victorian probably seemed like a fairy-tale castle. It had to Annie at that age. “You’d love it, Joanna. There are lots of places to play hide-’n’-seek. And I’m sure there’s a tea set around here somewhere to play with.”
“Are there bugs? John scared me with a big, black one yesterday. I don’t like bugs.”
“No bugs, just a bossy house cat.” Annie grinned, picturing her all-boy grandson terrorizing his sister. “Don’t worry. I would never let anything happen to you.”
“Mama says we can’t come see you until you get home.”
Hmm. Her daughter had been saying a bit too much. “Why don’t you put your mother on the phone?”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Seconds later, LeeAnn’s voice came over the line. “How’s the absentee grandmother doing today?”
“Fine.” She ratcheted up her mother tone. “Putting Joanna on the phone won’t get me home sooner. The divide-and-conquer tactic never worked with your dad and me when you were a child. It won’t work now.”
Properly chided, LeeAnn sighed with guilt. “It was worth a try.”
“Please don’t do it again.” Point made, her voice softened. “I miss you all, but I have to finish things here.”
“How is the restoration going?”
Annie went into detail about Grey Gables, what they’d already done and what remained on the to-do list.
“And the cross-stitch?”
“We found another clue.” Delight rang in Annie’s tone as she relayed the newest info to her daughter. “Only two scenes left. In fact, I’m looking at my clue list right now, considering where to focus next.”
“Mom, don’t you think you’re getting carried away?”
Carried away? “What makes you say that?”
“You’re all gaga over a stitching on a piece of material.”
“It’s important to me right now. And besides, your great-grandmother did the cross-stitch. It’s one of a kind.”
“It’s all you talk about, like you’re obsessed or something.”
Obsessed? “Do I sound that bad?”
“Well, maybe not that bad, but close. I think you need to forget about it and come home.”
Go home? Not yet. Not while she was still searching for the Lady in the Betsy Original.
They chatted a few more minutes before LeeAnn had to referee what sounded like a shouting match. Annie heard the squabbling children in the background and smiled, missing them more than ever.
Once off the phone, in the quiet kitchen, Annie scanned her list. Was she obsessed? She hadn’t really thought so, but if you were being obsessive, did you know it? Rubbing her temple, she tried to ease a headache.
Maybe she was obsessive, because as she looked at her list of clues, she knew she couldn’t give up now. Didn’t want to. Not with only two clues left to solve, bringing them closer to the identity of the young woman in the cross-stitch.
Which would bring her full circle.
She’d come to Grey Gables to put her grandmother’s affairs in order, only to find herself completely embroiled in a mystery. Between finding that part of herself she thought she’d lost after her husband died and uncovering the identity of the young woman, maybe Annie would find peace. At least she hoped so.
Shaking off her far-fetched thoughts, she refocused on the task at hand. Since Annie didn’t know the local area around Stony Point as intimately as she wished, she knew she’d have to rely on her next-best source of information, the Hook and Needle Club. Weren’t the ladies absolutely champing at the bit to be more involved? Besides, Annie needed them for support and for their knowledge. And to help her uncover this mystery so her daughter would stop thinking Annie had lost her marbles.
* * *
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By Tuesday morning, the women of the Hook and Needle Club were in a tizzy about the beach clue, bombarding Annie with questions. The main one: Was she sure it was the right place?
“Yes,” Annie answered for the third time. “I brought the blown-up picture to the cove to compare. It looks remarkably like the stitched scene. And yes, when Alice gets here, she can confirm the find.”
Mary Beth sat perched on the edge of her seat, her laser-beam gaze aimed directly at Annie. “Give me all the details.”
Nestled in a chair in the circle of friends, Annie made herself comfortable and continued. “We happened to be at the beach at the right time, early evening, as the sun was sinking. The long shadows and the way the sand and water met, it was perfect. Not one-hundred percent like the cross-stitch, but close enough that if you saw it for yourselves, you’d agree.”
“I can’t believe I missed being there,” Mary Beth grumbled.
“It wasn’t like we found it without you on purpose. It just happened,” Annie consoled her friend, trying not to chuckle out loud at Mary Beth’s disgruntled pout. “When I was younger and tagged along on nature walks, my grandmother would bring a sketch pad in case she came upon a setting that caught her eye, quickly fleshing out a scene so she wouldn’t forget. We came home from a walk more than once with a rendering or two, then we’d sit down and come up with the colors from memories as well as her notes. Before I knew it, my grandmother would transfer her vision to cloth. She amazed me every time.”
“A clue answered,” Gwendolyn marveled. “And so quickly.”
Finally, after confirming all the questions, she readied herself to surprise them with yet another doozy. With a sly smile she said, “Not just one. Two.”
The room went silent.
“Two?” Peggy repeated.
“That’s right.”
“What? When?” Gwendolyn sputtered.
Annie chuckled at Gwendolyn’s reaction. “I ran into Ian Butler a few days before the July Fourth celebration and mentioned our little mystery. He was intrigued, especially when I showed him a photo of the cross-stitch. When I ran into him at the park this weekend, he told me he believed the storefront scene was most likely Bascom’s, before it was Bascom’s.”
Kate jumped up and looked out the window, down the street toward the building in question. Within seconds Mary Beth, Peggy, and Gwendolyn crossed to stand before the glass with her. If it hadn’t been for a worried customer entering the store--wondering if they were tracking a thief or something--the four women would have stood there longer, staring down Main Street.
Peggy returned to the circle of chairs first, followed by the others. “I can’t believe he beat us in uncovering one of the clues. He’s not even a member of the Hook and Needle Club.”
“We could make him an honorary member,” Gwendolyn quipped. “But I doubt he’d come to our meetings.”
Annie laughed. “I think he has his hands full being mayor.”
“Which would explain how he determined the location of the storefront. He has access to all kinds of town history.”
“That and his father has a good memory. Apparently, he recognized the store. Ian said his dad has an old snapshot with that building in the background. The buildings on that block were constructed before the town grew and expanded, making way for Main Street as we know it. Bascom’s had a fancy storefront built when it opened, and it stayed that way for years, until Dress to Impress renovated and modernized the look.”
“Makes sense.” Gwendolyn resumed her knitting. “The Butler family has a lot of history in this town. And they all live long, which would explain Thomas Butler’s knowledge.”
“And that made me wonder if there are any other older residents in town who might recognize the two remaining scenes.” Annie scanned the group. “Surely y’all might know someone.”
Gwendolyn dropped the half-finished scarf to her lap. “Many of Betsy’s contemporaries have passed on. There might be some folks living in the Senior Center we could ask. I’ll check next time I visit.”
“And there’s Stella,” Peggy reminded them.
Annie glanced at her watch. “Where is Stella anyway? Every time I’ve come to a Tuesday meeting, she’s already seated in her chair, working away on that sweater.”
Mary Beth finished with the customer and joined them. “I think she’s taking a break for a while.”
Annie’s heart squeezed tight. “Oh, dear. It’s my fault, isn’t it?”
“She said some things had come up, and she’d be staying home for a few weeks.”
“What could she possibly have going on?” Peggy asked with concern. “In all the time she’s been a member, she’s never missed a Tuesday meeting. She’s never had anything come up before.”
“Maybe she has plans with other friends,” Gwendolyn supposed, her tone less than convinced. “Every once in a while she tries to revive her idea of starting some sort of a cultural center in town. Not that we need one, after all. What would we showcase? Lobster pots? Although, you can rehab them and use them for lovely flower planters. I happen to have two on my back patio and--”
“Gwendolyn.” Mary Beth interrupted the odd segue.
Annie noticed that Gwendolyn went off on a tangent whenever the conversation turned a bit tense. Usually whenever Stella was involved. Her meanderings always lifted the general mood of the group. It might come across as silly, but Annie suspected the woman knew exactly what she was doing.
Gwendolyn pulled herself back to her original thought. “Anyway, Stella has always wanted a cultural presence here. Most likely because of her work in New York. Perhaps she’s decided to meet with members of the Historical Society to talk to them about her ideas.”
“Now that makes sense,” Mary Beth agreed. “She touches base with them from time to time.”
“I saw her driver, Jason, at Magruder’s this morning,” Kate told them as she fitted one of her crocheted jackets to the dress mannequin. “He said ‘hi’ but seemed distracted, like he was in a hurry or something. Stella was nowhere to be found.”
The door opened and Alice sauntered in.
Peggy’s hand flew to her throat. “Maybe Stella’s sick.”
“Don’t think so.” Alice strode to the circle. “Sorry I’m late. I had an appointment earlier.” She dropped her purse and tote bag before sinking into one of the chairs. “I saw Stella at The Cup & Saucer. She was chatting away with a table full of women, one of whom I’m sure is from the Historical Society. So I’d say she’s fine.”
Peggy’s brows arched. “I never believed she actually had other friends besides us. And she’s at the diner, on my day off.” She rifled through her purse and pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll find out what’s going on.”
“The rumor mill at its finest,” Alice joked.
“She does socialize,” Gwendolyn said. “It’s good she has friends besides us. They get her out of the house on other days of the week.”
“Yes, but are they her real friends?” Peggy challenged, a touch of hurt lacing her voice, as she punched in a number.
Gwendolyn’s eyes widened in concern. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
Kate walked around the mannequin to check the back of the garment. “We don’t see her all the time, Peggy, but she knows we consider her our real friend.”
“But she never talks about anyone else, so I have to wonder.” Peggy stopped as her call went through. “Hi, Lisa. Hey, quick question. What is Stella up to over there?” She paced the small area around the counter as she listened.
Mary Beth arranged a bin of sale yarn on a table near the door. “There’s no stopping her when Stella’s got an idea in her head. And she’s decided to stay away.”
Alice pulled her unfinished cross-stitch cloth out of her tote, resting it on her lap as she threaded a needle with green floss. “Have you spoken to her recently?”
Mary Beth didn’t answer at first. Her eyes flitted to Annie. She squirmed as she toyed with a skein of yarn. “J
ust yesterday. She told me she wouldn’t be returning until after we’d solved our silly little mystery.”
“I knew it.” Annie dropped her crochet in her tote. “This is my fault.”
“She’s a grown woman,” Gwendolyn said. “She can make her own decisions. If she doesn’t want to be here, we can’t make her.”
“She’s the one missing out.” Kate gazed at Stella’s empty chair.
Annie didn’t know what to think. Of course Stella wasn’t here. She’d made no secret of the fact that she wasn’t interested in anything to do with the cross-stitch, or with Annie for that matter. The other women’s enthusiasm about the mystery had clouded Annie’s better judgment about involving them without concern for Stella’s wishes. Stella was truly a part of this group, just as the women had testified. More so than Annie. Yet Annie had obviously upset Stella, causing her to stay away. Annie had never intentionally hurt someone before, and she hated that she’d done so now.
“I feel awful,” she blurted.
“Don’t,” Peggy replied with a dramatic sigh as she pressed the end button on her phone and plopped down in her chair. “Okay, here’s the scoop. Stella is with some of the women from the Historical Society, brainstorming ideas about how to get a cultural center up and running. Apparently Liz Booth, president of the Historical Society, wants to form some kind of merger between the cultural and historical clubs. I didn’t even know Stony Point had a cultural club.”
“That would be us,” Alice informed her.
“Anyway, sounds like Stella and Liz have been discussing the idea for a while now. With some space coming empty on the ground floor of the Walker Building, they want to formalize plans.” She glanced around the circle, eyes wounded. “I understand that she wants to get things rolling, but why didn’t she tell us? Or even include us?”
Kate walked over, sat on the arm of the chair, and placed her arm around Peggy. “She has dreams, too, just like all of us. It’s time we let her fulfill them her way.”
“Maybe we’re her creative go-to people,” Gwendolyn speculated. “But she needs practical people to help her get the center open. People with connections we don’t have.”