Family Matters (10 page)

Gracie stood numbly with her parents, as the EMTs wheeled the sheet-draped form of Uncle Stan out to the ambulance. The only sound now was the pendulum clock in the hallway; the ticking was like a dripping faucet. The coroner made notes on his clipboard and cleared his throat to speak.

“What happened?” Tim barreled through the front door, slightly out of breath as his head swiveled back toward the ambulance.

“Well, it seems that your father-in-law took a bad tumble down the stairs here.” The coroner, Ralph Remington, pushed his reading glasses up onto his broad forehead and gazed impassively at Tim’s ashen face.

“Is he..?”

“I’m sorry, but he’s gone, Tim. Looks like he broke his neck and leg in the fall.” Ralph was not known for his bedside manner, but he had been the coroner for 30 years and had seen just about everything. From farm accidents, car accidents, suicides, and a few murders, Ralph had long ago developed a crusty shell that distanced him from viewing a victim as a real person.

Tim rubbed his forehead, “I knew his drinking would get him, but I thought his liver would go, not this.”

Bob Clark put his hand on his nephew-in-law’s shoulder. “Have you gotten a hold of Isabelle yet?”

“She’s on her way, but I didn’t know it was this bad.” Tim sat down heavily on a dining room chair and put his head in his hands. “Who found him?”

“I did,” Gracie’s voice quavered. “He was just lying there.” Gracie began to cry, and her mother quickly put an arm around her waist.

The ambulance was slowly pulling away from the curb. Ralph walked back into the house.

“Gracie, I need you to sign the report. Sorry.”

She quickly wiped tears from her eyes, trying to focus on the paper. She scribbled her name.

“Thanks.” Ralph shifted his weight and turned toward Tim. “You know, Tim, there’ll have to be an autopsy, so you and Isabelle call the hospital morgue tomorrow to see if it’s been done. We’ll try to push it through.”

“All right, I understand. Isabelle won’t like it though. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of alcohol in his system.”

“We’ll see. I know Stan sure did like to knock ‘em back.”

With that, he gathered the rest of his equipment and headed to his shabby black county-issued station wagon parked behind Gracie’s SUV.

Gracie found a clean tissue in her bag and blew her nose. She wasn’t sure that facing Isabelle and possibly creating another ugly scene was something she could handle. She really needed to get home; there was a lot to do in the kennel and around the house. Her resolve to control her emotions last night was quickly dissolving.

“I’d better get going. Tim, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe…” Her voice broke, and flashes of finding Michael in the hayfield under the tractor flashed through her mind.

“I think I’ll go with you,” Theresa said firmly. “Your dad can pick me up later. Let me drive.”

“I’ll stay here with Tim then.” Bob was equally as firm and hugged Gracie. Gracie nodded and handed the keys to her mother. Theresa gave Tim a quick hug and followed Gracie through the front door.

Exercising the dogs in the play yard helped Gracie regain some emotional control. Haley joined in the fun, and the motley crew of canines ran after balls, stuffed animals, and each other in the large grassy area, shaded by two silver maple trees. It was over all too soon, and the vision of Uncle Stan at the bottom of the stairs made her stomach lurch. Why hadn’t she stopped by sooner? He’d probably been drowning his sorrows again. He shouldn’t have been by himself. Maybe it was time to show Mom all the stuff Uncle Stan had left her. The smell of homemade macaroni and cheese filled the kitchen.

“
Mmmm good, Mom. How’d you know that would hit the spot?” she said a little too brightly. She had to try and keep it all light, or she’d really lose it.

“Comfort food is needed today. Your pantry is pretty well stocked right now, so I didn’t have to improvise.”

Gracie laughed. “I did do some shopping today.” The last time she’d made mac and cheese, she had to use cheese topping from a spray can. It had been an interesting dish with a peculiar texture. Her father pulled up just as they sat down to eat.

“Is there enough for me?” The screen door slammed behind him.

“A ton. You’re just in time, Dad.”

Her father said a quick blessing and her mother began dishing up the casserole. Gracie thought she’d have no appetite, but
the food tasted good. Haley slept under the table, snoring contentedly.

“I think I’d better show you both all the stuff that Uncle Stan gave me. I won’t ever know now why he handed it to me, but maybe we can sort it out.” Gracie scraped back her chair and pulled out a gallon-sized zip-lock bag from the refrigerator.

“Expecting Maxwell Smart?” Her father was shaking his head.

“No, but I
am
expecting Isabelle. She came right into the house the other night and tried to take these back.”

“You watch way too much crime TV, my dear,” Theresa admonished her daughter.

“Maybe, but I’m not taking any chances.”

Theresa quickly cleared the table as Gracie spread out the clippings, death certificate, police report, and the diary.

“Oh, my! Stan gave you Charlotte’s diary?” Her mother’s voice suddenly cracked.

“I told you that he did. That’s why I wanted to hang on to all of this. She had some weird code going on in the diary, and I’m not sure who she’s talking about. And did you know she was pregnant?” This was the bombshell she’d been holding back.

“Pregnant! No. Shirley never said a word.”

“Here, look through this and tell me what you think.”

Gracie settled into her chair and watched her parents read through the papers.

“Well, I’m sure your Aunt Shirley didn’t want anyone to know about the pregnancy. In fact, I can almost guarantee she’d have driven Charlotte to a clinic for an abortion if she had known.” Bob took his reading glasses off and leaned back on the Mission-style chair.

“Unfortunately, I’d have to agree with your dad. My sister was hardnosed about appearances and family honor.”

“Really, Mom?”

“No need for sarcasm, Grace Marie.”

“Well, from what I can decipher from Charlotte’s diary, Aunt Shirley was making her life miserable.”

“You need to be careful too. Teenaged daughters are not the easiest to reason with or keep on the right path sometimes. If you remember, your parents were pretty mean too.” Her father was trying to lighten the tone.

“I know, but if it was just general teenage angst and a hormonal mistake that turned into a surprise pregnancy, why did Uncle Stan give all of this to me?”

“Who knows? Stan had been slipping for awhile now, and maybe Shirley’s death triggered something about Charlotte. I really don’t think it means anything, other than maybe he wanted someone to remember Charlotte or maybe know about the pregnancy. I don’t know, Gracie,” her father answered.

Theresa stood and began rinsing dishes and loading the dishwasher.

“I agree with your dad. I think Stan had some kind of remorse or just sadness about Charlotte and Shirley, and for some reason, gave all of this to you. You and he always had a pretty close relationship when you were growing up.”

“I guess, but I think there’s more to it.” Gracie was feeling stubborn, and a nagging in her gut told her there was more here than met the eye.

“I doubt it, and at this point, it’s the wrong time to aggravate Isabelle. She now has to plan another funeral. Losing both parents in one week is pretty horrible.” Theresa’s brow furrowed and met Gracie’s gaze.

“I know. I know. Take it all back to Isabelle.” She’d been the bad guy long enough, and it was time to do the right thing.

“I think that’s wise, Gracie. I’ll give them to Tim and keep this low-key for Isabelle’s sake. She’s taking her father’s death pretty hard.” Her father began piling the papers and slid them back into the bag. “Now that they’re room temperature, we can return them. You just beat all sometimes.” He arched an eyebrow at his daughter, and Gracie shrugged.

“Are you going to be OK?” Her mother’s voice was full of concern. Worry lines were etched in her forehead.

“I’ll be fine. I really am feeling better, and Jim is going to stop by later, so we can go over the week’s excitement and figure out what we’re going do staff-wise.” Gracie was suddenly eager to have her parents go and leave her to her own thoughts. Maybe Jim could shed some light on things.

“Well, that’s good. Come on, Theresa, let’s head home. We still have to stop in and check on Isabelle and Tim and the kids. Don’t worry, Gracie. I’ll give the papers to Tim tomorrow, so as not to cause a scene. You get some rest and don’t worry about everything
. And
don’t
make too much of these papers. Your imagination is way too active.”

“Yeah, right, Dad. Thanks for everything. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She hugged them both, and the car was out of the driveway before Gracie had finished dumping food into Haley’s bowl. She was printing out the scanned documents when Jim yelled through the screen.

“Hey, are you decent?”

“Mostly. Come on in.” She flopped down on the couch, sipping on icy lemonade.

“Want something to drink?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine.” He rubbed Haley’s ears, and she immediately went back to the bowl of kibble.

“Help yourself. It’s in the pitcher on the counter.”

Jim poured himself a large glass and joined her in the living room.

“Are you doing all right, Chief?”

“I’m OK. I can’t believe all the stuff that’s happening at once. I haven’t had time to check on Beth today.”

“She’s doing fine. I called this afternoon and talked to her. Beth is young and bouncing right back.”

“Good. I’m glad you called her. The family stuff going on is way too much.” She saw the immediate concern in his eyes. “And I’m handling it. I’m sick of not dealing with my life, so don’t worry.”

“All right.
But you know how’s it’s been.”

“I do. I’m sorry for all of it too. Let’s not talk about me anymore. I want to show you this stuff and get your take on it.” She spread out the scanned documents on the coffee table for him to read.

“Wow, I don’t know, Gracie.” Jim put the copy of the death certificate back on the table. “It sounds like there was a lot going on with Charlotte right before she was killed. I don’t understand why your Uncle Stan gave this to you, but maybe Isabelle will calm down now that she’s getting the diary back.”

“I hope so, but I don’t think I can count on it. I still think Uncle Stan wanted me to have these for another reason than just fond memories. Maybe there was a cover-up, or something was done wrong in the investigation, and he wanted me to find out what really happened.”

“You do have a great imagination. Who are you, Agatha Christie?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m still going to do some digging and see what I can find out. I owe my uncle.” She tightened the loose ponytail that threatened to slip from the band.

“You’d better be careful. Give Isabelle some consideration. I hate to bring this up, but what if Charlotte…well, stepped in front of the car…” He paused. “Her diary is kind of disturbing.” Jim tapped the diary entry on the coffee table.

“I can’t believe she’d do that. Charlotte wouldn’t have…” Her voice trailed off. This was something she hadn’t even considered. But Jim was right. Her cousin was over the edge about her situation. But just as quickly, Gracie decided against that theory. She didn’t want to even think about that possibility.

“I’ve got to find out more about Charlotte’s death, now more than ever. Uncle Stan wouldn’t have given me her diary if he thought she’d jumped in front of the car. There’s something that doesn’t feel right. Plus I need to find out who she was seeing.”

“I don’t think that’ll be easy after all these years. Anyway, we’re not going to figure it out tonight. Can we go over the financials and the schedule for next week?”

Gracie brought her laptop out, and the evening sped on as they poured over the spreadsheets of income and expense. Income was down for the week, but it was understandable. When she brought up the subject of letting Jim out of the partnership, he refused. It was way too early to make that decision in his opinion.

When Jim finally left, it was almost 10 o’clock, and Gracie was exhausted. The emotional rollercoaster day had taken its toll. But
, before she could go to bed, she needed to check on the dogs and double-check the alarm.

The night air was permeated with eau de cow manure wafting from the dairy farm a couple of miles down the road. She could also smell the heavy scent of the cornfield behind the kennel. Nothing was as invigorating as good country air. Haley trotted across the driveway to the office door. A car drove slowly down the road as Gracie’s sneakers crunched on the gravel. She swung her flashlight toward the road as it passed. The car braked and then backed up. Gracie stood still, her heart racing. She grabbed Haley’s rolled leather collar as the car swung into the driveway, its headlights bathing her in brightness. Haley growled, and her hackles rose.