No Crones About It

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No Crones About It Page 20

by Amanda M. Lee


  “Well, that seems to indicate that we’re on the right track,” he said finally. “All we need to do is put all the pieces together. Do we think Cyrus is a piece?”

  “I don’t know,” Gunner replied. “The fact that he showed up here out of the blue at the same time a body dropped makes me leery. But we can’t be sure he was in those other locations when those bodies dropped, so ... I honestly don’t know.”

  “I can make some discreet inquiries,” Graham offered. “It can’t hurt to run financials. If we can pin him to even one of those locations it would be beneficial.”

  “If you have the time to help, we could use it.”

  “Then I’ll see what I can dig up. As for that other thing you requested, I have some answers there, too.”

  I lifted my head, my interest piqued. “What other thing?”

  “Fred,” Gunner volunteered. “I’ve been bothered about his standing in town since his body was discovered. The thing is, people assumed he was homeless because he was always sitting on benches and watching everyone. No one ever actually saw him sleeping on the street or panhandling.”

  He acted as if that was a major clue. “So ... what?”

  “So, he had to be sleeping somewhere else,” Graham explained. “He didn’t own a house and he wasn’t renting property. I checked with the clerk’s office to be sure. Then I had a thought. I once saw him walking out on the highway that leads to the resort. I couldn’t figure out why he was there, but he wasn’t breaking the law so I let it go.”

  I remained confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “There’s nothing out there,” Gunner argued. “There’s no way he could’ve afforded one of those villas at the resort.”

  “I agree about the villas. But there is something out there.”

  I watched Gunner’s face recognize the moment he grasped what his father was getting at. “Gertie and Gina.”

  Graham grinned. “It took you a bit, but you finally caught up. Way to go.”

  Gunner scowled. “Why can’t you ever just be a normal father and not go the passive-aggressive route?”

  “What fun would that be?”

  I was still behind. “Who are Gertie and Gina” I asked.

  Now it was Gunner’s turn to grin. “They ... defy explanation. I’m just going to have to take you out there to meet them.”

  That sounded ominous. “Are they dangerous?”

  “Only to the rodent population.”

  That was a really odd answer.

  GINA AND GERTIE Pascal were twins, in their seventies, and they lived in a huge house on the highway. From the outside, it looked run down. On the inside it was quite posh and clean. Er, well, other than the twenty cats running around.

  “I guess I see what you mean about the rodent population,” I muttered as I sat at their small kitchen table and tried to keep the huge tabby sitting on the table from drinking out of my teacup.

  Gunner’s grin was contagious. “They like cats.”

  “We love all God’s creatures,” Gina supplied as she carried a huge tray of cookies to the table. I could only tell them apart because Gina was wearing all blue and Gertie all green. I filed the information away when we knocked on their door and they joyously welcomed us inside. “We simply have a special affinity for cats.”

  “Scout loves cats, too,” Gunner offered. “She adopted a kitten from the lumberyard.”

  Gertie beamed at me. “That is lovely. You should get him a friend.”

  That wasn’t going to happen. On his own, Merlin was singlehandedly destroying my cabin one roll of toilet paper at a time. “I’ll give it some thought,” I lied, sipping my tea. “This is an amazing house.”

  “It belonged to our parents,” Gina explained, joining us at the table. “They used to run a bed and breakfast — we did, too, for a time — and it was a grand house. Unfortunately, once the resort came in, people started staying there, so ... well, you know how that goes.”

  I felt inexplicably sorry for them. “I’m sorry.”

  Gina waved off my concern. “The world never stops turning. Things change. We have to change with them.”

  I wanted to ask how they managed to afford the upkeep on the house — which looked to be lagging — and the care of all the cats without steady money coming in, but I didn’t feel that was any of my business. Instead, I let Gunner take over the conversation.

  “We’re actually here for a reason,” Gunner supplied. “Did you know Fred Burns?”

  “Of course we knew him.” Gertie made a tsking sound with her tongue. “We heard what happened in town. Quite frankly, we were expecting a visit from your father. He hasn’t come yet.”

  Gunner straightened. “Was Fred living here?”

  “Of course he was. We gave him a room in exchange for him doing odd jobs around the house. The upkeep is more than we can keep up on. It was more for him as well, but he did his best. He was a good man.”

  “He had a room here,” Gunner repeated. “For how long?”

  “It’s been more than ten years. I think he was in town a full year before he helped us when we were broken down on the side of the road one day. We invited him back for dinner, offered him a roof for one night and things sort of grew from there.”

  “No one knew he was living here,” Gunner said.

  “Well, it wasn’t a secret,” Gina countered. “He’s been part of the family for a long time. We’re very upset about his passing ... and the fact that no one is sharing information with us. We no longer have a vehicle — the doctor says we shouldn’t drive — so we had no way of getting to town to complain to Graham.”

  “You have a phone,” Gunner pointed out.

  “Yes, but as we said, we thought Graham would be out here eventually. It simply didn’t happen. We were going to call ... maybe.”

  Gunner shook his head as he turned his eyes to me. It was obvious what he was thinking. We could’ve had at least some answers days before if we’d bothered to ask the obvious question about Fred’s lodging. That was really on us.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter now.” Gunner forced a smile. “I can guarantee my father will be out here before the end of the day. But we need some information now.”

  “Of course.” Gina was congenial as she rested her hands on the table and smiled primly. “What do you need information about?”

  “Fred.”

  “What about him?”

  “Anything you can tell us.”

  “Oh, well, there’s not much to tell. He didn’t talk about himself much. He helped us around the house ... and with the cats ... and when the lawn needed mowing. He never volunteered any information. I got the feeling that something terrible happened and he was separated from his family. He never wanted to talk about it and we didn’t press.”

  “There has to be something more,” I argued. “Isn’t there something you can tell us about where he came from?”

  “No, but there might be something in his room. You’re welcome to look around if you’re so inclined. I’m sure Fred wouldn’t mind.”

  Twenty-One

  Fred’s room was tidy and largely devoid of personality. There was a small twin bed and matching dresser. Next to the bed, a stack of books towered on the nightstand. That was it.

  “It’s not much of a life,” I murmured as I ran my fingers over the aged comforter. “There’s nothing of him here.”

  Gunner squeezed my shoulder and dropped a kiss on my temple as he passed. “We don’t know that yet. We’ve only been in here five minutes. Give it some time.”

  Time felt like a commodity we didn’t have. “We need answers.”

  “And we’ll get them. Have faith.”

  I didn’t snap back, even though I had something snarky on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I focused on the books. “He liked murder mysteries.”

  “So do you. I’ve seen your e-reader.”

  “I doubt that was a genetic trait.”

  “No.” His eyes were thoughtful as they held mine.
“Is that what you’re really looking for? Do you want to see something of yourself in him? Will that make you feel better?”

  “I ... .”

  “It’s okay,” he prodded. “I get it. My father drives me nuts — as you’ve seen several times already — but it’s a comfort to know we drink our coffee the same way ... and only like strawberry jelly on our toast ... and have the same hairline, which means I’ll never go bald. That’s only one of the reasons I’m a keeper, by the way.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at his enthusiasm. “I hadn’t really thought about the hair. You’re right. I’m sold.”

  He laughed and moved back to the dresser. “You’re looking for hints of yourself in the others because you want to belong,” he surmised. “There’s nothing wrong with that. The thing is, you don’t need blood to belong. You already belong to a group ... though you might not want to claim some of its members.”

  I easily grasped his reference. “I don’t want to claim Marissa.”

  “That goes without saying.”

  “The rest of you aren’t so bad.”

  “I’m the bomb.”

  I choked on my laughter. “I don’t think I can date someone who refers to himself in that manner.”

  “Well, suck it up. I’m the bomb and I don’t care who knows it.”

  “I guess I will have to suck it up.” I paged through the books. I had no idea what I was looking for but thought there was a possibility of a stray sheet of paper ... a letter ... or something other than prose on pages. I was disappointed.

  “I found something,” Gunner announced, drawing my attention back to the dresser. He’d been searching through Fred’s clothes and seemed to be having as fruitless a time as me. When I turned my attention to him, though, he was holding up what looked to be a necklace.

  Something sparked in the back of my memory as the light glinted off the delicate chain and pendant. I recognized it.

  “It looks like it belongs to a woman,” Gunner noted, his eyes never moving in my direction. “I wonder if he had a wife or daughter. The charm thing is weird. It’s ... odd.”

  My hands were shaking when I reached for it. “That’s not a charm.”

  He glanced at me. “I don’t know the technical term for it, but I was close enough for you to understand what I was talking about.”

  “It’s a locket.” My breath barely came out in a whisper.

  “Locket?” Gunner glanced back at the item in his hand. “How can you be sure? It doesn’t look like a locket.”

  “It used to be mine.”

  His mouth dropped open. “I ... are you sure?”

  I nodded. I felt numb, as if disconnected from the scene transpiring in the room. It was as if I was watching from outside myself. “I only owned three things.” It was coming back to me in bits and pieces. “A blanket ... a small tin full of money in case I was separated and needed food ... and that locket.”

  Gunner wordlessly handed it over and the second my fingers touched the cool metal it was as if I’d been transported back. For a brief moment, a split-second really, I thought I remembered everything. Then the cloudy veil descended again and the memories dissolved into a hodgepodge of sights, sounds and screams. “I can’t believe he had it.”

  Gunner was clearly at a loss. “Do you remember when you last saw it?”

  “I ... no. I don’t even know why I remember it. It’s probably because I just had that dream. I remembered the locket in the dream.”

  “Well ... it’s still something. Can you open it?”

  “Maybe.” I flipped the locket over and stared at the back. There was an etching there, but it was long faded. “There were stars on the back. I remember that. I guess they’re gone now.”

  “Or hidden by magic,” Gunner noted. “We can figure out the stars later. If you can open it, there might be answers inside.”

  That seemed far-fetched, but I was willing to try. “Yes. I’ll open the locket and somehow I’ll magically remember everything.”

  “You don’t know. That could happen. There could be a spell on the locket or something. Maybe it’s been waiting for you to find it again and to provide the answers you’ve been looking for.”

  I shot him a dubious look.

  “Or maybe there’s nothing inside,” he conceded with a weak grin. “That’s entirely possible, too. I don’t want to get your hopes up or anything, but ... this is the first truly tangible lead we’ve had on your childhood since ... well ... ever. I mean, I know you probably had other leads throughout the years, but this is the first one I’ve been present for, which makes it special.”

  “There’s that ego again.” I fumbled with the hasp on the locket. “Hmm. I remember there being a trick.”

  “Let me try.” He tried to take the necklace from me but I clutched it against my chest. “Or you could hold onto it and try again when you’re alone later.” He studied my face. “That’s what you want to do.”

  “I don’t care if I’m alone.” That was true. “I just ... don’t want to let it go yet. I can’t explain it. Something inside is telling me to hold onto it. I’m sorry.” I made a concerted effort to hand it to him but he didn’t take it.

  “That’s yours.” He was firm. “You hold onto it. I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk about it.”

  For some reason, relief coursed through me. “Thanks, but ... I don’t mind if you touch it. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  He closed my fist over the necklace. “You finally have a piece of your past. It makes sense that you’re feeling territorial. It’s okay.”

  “It won’t even open.”

  “Maybe you’ll remember the trick. Until then, we’ll treat it like the one ring. I can’t carry it, but I can carry you.”

  I was flummoxed for a moment, and then I remembered the Lord of the Rings and smiled. “That was really geeky.”

  “You’re going to learn that I might be a hunk on the outside, but I’m a total geek on the inside. I love books ... and movies ... and music. I love comic books, too. You’ll have to learn to deal with it.”

  “Okay.” I slipped the locket into my pocket and forced a smile. “We should finish searching and then get out of here. We still have to get ready for the wolf gathering tonight ... and dinner couldn’t hurt.”

  “Dinner definitely couldn’t hurt,” he agreed, tipping up my chin to stare into my eyes. “I still stand by what I’ve said about twenty times now. We’ll figure this out. The locket might not seem like much of a lead right now, but I think it’ll be more helpful than we realize.”

  “I hope so. I just feel ... shaky. It’s weird.”

  “Maybe it really is like the one ring. Maybe it’s magical ... but somehow directly at you. If so, I’m sure we’ll be able to untangle this mess eventually. You’re not alone. We’ll do it together.”

  For once I was happy for the backup. I’d never had a situation in which I thought I was in over my head. I was officially there. “Thanks. I was serious about dinner, though. I’m starving.”

  “Dinner it is. Are you okay with the diner?”

  “Sure. Comfort food sounds divine.”

  THE DINER WAS PACKED. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Other than a few sandwich shops and a pizza place, it was the only location in town that served full meals. Still, the room hummed with activity.

  As if sensing the noise was too much, Gunner placed our order at the front counter and we took takeout containers to the park outside. We settled there, silent, and ate in companionable silence. I was about halfway through my fried chicken meal when I found the courage to speak.

  “I really am sorry about the locket thing. I don’t know what came over me. I’m not usually like that with material possessions.”

  His gaze was speculative. “It’s okay. My guess is you haven’t had anything to call your own in a very long time.”

  “That’s not true. I have my bike.”

  He smiled. “There is that. Was that the first big purchase you ever mad
e?”

  “Yup.” I bobbed my head. “I saw her in a window in Detroit and knew I had to have her. At that time, I had a different bike. I rebuilt her from parts myself. I couldn’t afford anything new. I saved up a long time to buy my first new bike and I’m probably irrationally attached to her.”

  “We’re all attached to our bikes. That goes with the territory. As for the locket ... that’s yours. You don’t have anything else from your childhood?”

  I shook my head. “No. I don’t know what happened to the blanket. I just remember loving it because it was mine. I didn’t have toys or anything.”

  Gunner looked pained. “Now I kind of want to buy you a toy. What’s your poison? I’m guessing Barbie Dolls are out of the picture.”

  “Yeah. Dolls are not my thing.”

  “Action figures?”

  “Not really.”

  “What about Lincoln Logs? I used to love building things with the old set my father kept from when he was a kid. None of the other kids had them — and they used to make fun of me for playing with them — but I didn’t care.”

  “I honestly never cared about toys. I mean ... there was a stuffed dog I wanted not long after I was in foster care. I saw it in a store and I remember feeling something I couldn’t quite identify inside. I know now that I was coveting the stupid thing, but I didn’t know it then.”

  “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but did your foster parents buy you the dog?”

  I shook my head. “They didn’t have extra money. It was fine. I just remember the dog looked kind of like a wolf and I liked it. That was the only toy I ever really wanted.”

  “Well, I still don’t like it.” He shifted in his chair. “You can come over to my house and play Lincoln Logs with me.”

  He winked at me, his smile easy, and then let his eyes track to the sidewalk in front of the park. The smile slipped almost instantly. “Son of a ... .”

  I followed his gaze, frowning when I caught sight of Drake. He was alone this time, at least as far as I could tell, and he was completely fixated on us. I couldn’t help wondering how long he’d been standing there, staring.

 

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