Family Matters (19 page)

“All right.” Gracie stopped short. “He’s…gone.”

Joe was nowhere in sight. His bike had been leaning against the building, but now it was gone too. She glanced at her watch; it was only eleven.

“Where does he live?” Marc was already getting into his cruiser.

“On Rail, in town.”

“Thanks. See you later.”

“But, wait… I need…”

The car was already backing out of the driveway. Why couldn’t they have a conversation without interruption or something stupid happening?  She stood, looking at him turn onto the road with her hands on her hips. And, if Joe had something to do with these robberies, she was going to deck her partner. Michael had always told her, “Trust your gut.” Right now, hers didn’t feel so great.

She needed to talk to someone, so Gracie left a message on her parents’ answering machine to come over for steaks after church. Knowing her Dad wouldn’t turn down steak, she started chopping veggies to grill with the meat. Their car pulled into the driveway just as she finished sealing the foil packet of summer squash, onions, and green beans.

They sat enjoying the shady patio and the afterglow of a good meal. There was a light breeze, and the smell of grilled beef lingered in the air. The pink stripe had been talked to death, and Theresa promised to call her stylist to see if she could fix the color. Bob was dozing with the Sunday paper draped over his lap in the lounge chair. The conversation was at a lull, but Gracie was dying to share her information bonanza. Her mother wouldn’t be happy about her suspicions. But she’d let them draw their own conclusions.

“You know, I had some interesting conversations yesterday,” Gracie began tentatively.

“Really?” Her mother was relaxed and only half-interested. She was watching a pair of finches play in the hydrangeas.

“I saw Matt Minders and Miss Russell, the old cheerleading coach.”

“Oh? I rarely see Matthew around. Was he visiting his parents?”

“Yeah, but we’d made arrangements to get together and talk about Charlotte.”

“You’re still messing with that?” She turned to face her daughter.

“Yes, I’m still messing with that, and I found out a couple of things I didn’t know. For one, Matt is the person who found Charlotte in the street. And he’s the one who saw the car going down Mill Street that night.”

“That’s right. Matthew was the one who got the license plate number. It wasn’t advertised though.”

“It was storming so badly that he really didn’t get a good look at the car and wasn’t able to see the whole plate. It was a WY plate though, so it had to be someone local.”

“It must have been horrible for Matthew to find Charlotte.” Her mother shuddered. “So did Matthew have anything else to say?”

“According to him, Aunt Shirley was anxious for resolution, so the investigation was shut down pretty quickly. And maybe Matt’s parents tried to protect him by just keeping that part quiet. He was a kid. He still has a pretty hard time talking about it.”

“Rightly so. I’m not sure how you ever get over something like that.” Gracie’s father opened his eyes and folded up the Sunday paper that had started sliding off his lap.

“Miss Russell had some interesting things to say too.”

“I always liked her. Kay was a good teacher, and she treated the office staff like gold, unlike some other teachers.” Theresa had worked in the school office for more than 25 years, retiring three years ago.

“She knew Charlotte was pregnant. Charlotte was really afraid of Aunt Shirley and didn’t know what to do.”

“Not surprising. Shirley was pretty tough on her daughters.” Her dad adjusted his reading glasses and pulled out the comic section.

“I’m not sure what ‘really afraid’ means, Gracie.” Theresa sounded a little defensive, and Gracie could tell her hackles were slowly rising.

“If Aunt Shirley knew about the pregnancy, she would have made things pretty awful for Charlotte.” Gracie didn’t want to go any further with her suspicions. They were pretty shocking, and Aunt Shirley was her mother’s sister, after all.

“If she did, I’m sure she was just upset, which is how any parent would react. Parents want the best for their children.”

Gracie chewed the inside of her cheek. Aunt Shirley would have always taken care of Number One. But how far would Shirley have gone to protect her own reputation? She had no proof anyway.

“You’re right. Sorry, Mom.”

She rose to pick up newspaper section that had fluttered to the ground from table next to her father. The coupon for free popcorn at the drive-in caught her eye. She folded the paper, placing it back on the table.

“You know I found, or rather Haley found, a ticket stub in my bag today. It was for the Delicious Delights Theatre in Geneseo.”

“That’s a porno theatre. Where did you get that?”

“I don’t know. It was for the day Uncle Stan died, though. I’m wondering if it was in the house and somehow found its way into my bag. I dropped everything when I found him…there.” Gracie swallowed hard with emotion.

“Your uncle never went any place like that. I can’t imagine…”

“Your mother is right. Stan was never interested in that kind of entertainment.” Her father pulled his glasses off and set them on the side table. “Maybe you picked it up somewhere else.”

“Possibly,” Gracie said slowly. “I can’t imagine where. It’s quite a coincidence that it’s the day Uncle Stan died, don’t you think?”

The phone rang, and Gracie jumped up to answer. She was hoping it was Marc, and she wasn’t disappointed.

“Gracie, I need to come back and fill you in on your employee Joe. Is now OK?”

From Marc’s tone, her gut must have been right all along.

“Sure, now is fine. It’s not good, is it?”

“Afraid not. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Bad news?”
Her mother was now picking up dishes to carry into the house.

“Yes. I knew my instincts were right about Joe, unfortunately. I think he’s been involved with the robberies and was using the kennel somehow.”

“Oh, no, Gracie. I thought he was doing so well.”

“He was, or at least, we thought so. Marc is on his way over to fill me in.”

“Marc?” Bob asked looking over his readers.

“Deputy Stevens, Dad.”

“Oh.” His short answer spoke volumes, and he gave his wife a knowing look.

“I’ll get these dishes in the dishwasher, and then we’d better get going
, Gracie. Unless you need us here for some reason.” Her mother’s curiosity was growing.

“No, Mom. I think I’d better hear this on my own anyway.”

“We understand. See you later, kiddo. Thanks for lunch.” Her father hugged her and headed for the car. Gracie saw him yawn and rub his eyes. He would continue his Sunday afternoon nap on his own couch.

Marc was true to his word and showed up just minutes after her parents left. His face was grim, and his jaw tense.

“So here’s what we know so far.” Marc smoothed back his short hair and sat down on the sofa.

“OK.
What’s the story?”

“Joe has been keeping tabs on the reservation book and feeding the information back to these two other felons, who’ve been living with him and his grandmother. Then this pair takes a midnight drive, and they help themselves while no dogs or people are home.”

“Not a bad setup, but this is going to ruin Milky Way. There’s no way I’m going to be able to fix this PR nightmare. Leave your dogs here, and our employees will rob your house while you’re away.” Gracie kneaded the familiar knot in her neck. “I’d better try to get a hold of Jim. This is one time I wish I’d been wrong.”

“From what Joe tells us, I’m pretty sure that he’s been coerced into doing this. These two guys threatened to hurt his grandmother and a few other things. The one ‘friend’ is a pretty violent person. No excuse not to report them, but prison pals have their own code of honor and obligation.”

“So what does this mean for us? Do you have to advertise what was going on?”

“Not necessarily. Joe is cooperating fully. His uncle is seeing to that. We’ve got a good idea where these two are headed, so we may be able to wrap this up quickly and quietly.”

“That would be the best thing for the kennel. I appreciate anything you can do.”

“No problem.”

When she grabbed the pitcher of ice tea off the kitchen counter, the ticket stub caught her eye. She picked it up carefully. It was almost dry.

“You said one of these men was a violent type?”

“Yes.” Marc looked at her quizzically as she placed the stub on the dining room table.

“I think I found this in my uncle’s house the day he died. Could he have been a victim? My uncle wasn’t into porno, just beer.”

“You
think
you found this in your uncle’s house? What does that mean exactly?”

Gracie cleared her throat. “I, uh, I dumped my purse while I was in the house and kind of shoved everything back into it. It must have been on the floor.”

Marc examined the ticket as she talked. She could only hope he wouldn’t ask for more details. How would she explain breaking and entering while everyone was in church?

“It’s entirely possible that they tried robbing your uncle, so I’ll take this with me, if you don’t mind. From what your cousin tells us, a few things are missing at the house. Do you have a plastic bag?”

“Sure.” Gracie pulled a sandwich bag from a drawer and handed it to him. His hand brushed hers as he took it. “I don’t think you’ll find anything on it. Haley had it in her mouth.”

“You never know. They might find something. I’d better get back to Warsaw. There’s a pile of paperwork to finish, and I’m supposed be off in an hour.”

“All right. Thanks for filling me in, although I was hoping we could talk about the hit-and-run car and that license plate.”

“Sorry, not today. How about Tuesday? I’m off then, and I can do a little more digging beforehand.”

“That should work. How about going down to Letchworth for a picnic?” Gracie was shocked at her sudden forwardness.

He grinned and rubbed his face. “Good idea. Where do you want to meet?”

They decided on Inspiration Point. It was one of her favorite places—a great view of the Genesee River gorge, and the arched stone bridge over the little stream made it a touch romantic. Gracie would bring the sides, and Marc would bring steaks to grill.

Gracie’s head still ached, emotions churning. The idea of Uncle Stan being killed in his own home by men trying to rob him made her sick. It was even worse if there was a connection back to her. At least he hadn’t had a dog at Milky Way. It wasn’t any consolation though. She began dialing Jim’s cell number.

The news of Joe’s arrest and the possible connection to Stan’s death was all over town like a spring grassfire. Gracie wanted to take a permanent vacation to some remote tropical island. But after an executive session, Jim and Gracie decided to stay high profile, talking about the kennel working with the sheriff’s department to steer the gossip in their favor if they could.

Theresa’s early morning phone call to her daughter informed Gracie that Isabelle and Tim were unhappy about the ticket stub find. It might tarnish the family reputation. Why her mother had thought it necessary to mention that to them was beyond her. She really didn’t want to tell Investigator Hotchkiss that she’d made that other visit inside her uncle’s house. There would be way too many questions if that came up.

Jim came back from Midge’s to report that he was still doing some damage control for the kennel. Most were sympathetic, but none had left their dogs at Milky Way either. He’d also spent time at the feed store and hardware, hoping that he could work on PR. Only time would tell if it had done any good. It was Gracie’s turn to go to town in the afternoon. The post office, Midge’s, and the bank were her targets. She cheerfully spoke to everyone and managed to let the post mistress and about a half dozen people picking up their mail know that the kennel had helped identify the robbery ring, and they were cooperating fully to bring all of the men to justice.

When Gracie entered the bank, she noticed Tim at his desk in the back corner, talking with a customer. Deciding to take the high road, she raised a hand in greeting while she stood in the business teller’s line to make the deposit. Tim half-heartedly mirrored her greeting, quickly averting his eyes to continue his conversation. Isabelle swept into the bank as the teller began counting the cash and Gracie waited for the receipt. Tim immediately stood, shook hands with the customer, and walked to the board room with Isabelle.

“She’s been here a lot lately,” the young teller, Felicity, said conspiratorially as she banded the last of the bills. Gracie guessed that Felicity was in her early 20s and spent her salary on salon appointments and wardrobe.

“Is that unusual?”

“Sort of. She always shows up for lunch on Wednesdays and sometimes drops by other times, but she’s been here almost every day. Hey, I love that pink in your hair.”

“Great, thanks.” Gracie was grateful for the stripe that distracted the teller’s need for information. But she started in again as she totaled the checks.

“Mr. Baker has been kind of a grouch lately.” There was a slight pout in Felicity’s lower lip.

“Understandable with all that’s been going on.”

It was obvious that the teller wanted some inside family information, but Gracie wasn’t going to bite. It went against her grain to defend Isabelle or Tim, but she thought of Greg and Anna. They didn’t deserve to have more dirt shoveled on them. Her whole family had enough to deal with right now.

Isabelle came out of the board room door, her mouth set in a grim line. Her eyes looked a little red to Gracie. Tim watched his wife stalk through the row of desks to the bank entrance. He straightened his blue striped tie, smoothed his mustache, and went back to large cherry desk.

“Doesn’t look like that went well.”
Felicity’s eyes shone with curiosity.

“No, but then my cousin just lost both her parents. It’s been pretty rough. Thanks for your help.” Gracie reached for the receipt and effectively dismissed the disappointed teller. A phone call to her mother might shed a little light on the home front with Isabelle and Tim.

Midge’s was busy; the tables were all filled. Gracie quickly grabbed her favorite stool at the counter when it was vacated by a slick-looking guy in a pin-striped suit. He had to be a salesman or a businessman traveling through by the looks of him. Midge was at the cash register, and she took Gracie’s order after ringing up the stranger’s bill.

“The usual?”

“Please.”

Midge yelled to the kitchen for a chicken finger salad. She filled a tall red pebble-textured plastic glass with lemonade and set it in front of Gracie, along with a napkin and a fork.

“What did you do to your hair?” Midge looked over her glasses at the pink stripe.

“Don’t ask. It has something to do with a skunk and my mother.”

“I won’t ask, but I hear you’ve had a lot of excitement out your way again.” Midge was chewing her gum thoughtfully.

“You’re right. I think the sheriff’s department has a handle on the robberies now. I think they’ll be able to track down the two guys that were messing with Joe.”

“That’s good. Too bad about Joe, though. His grandmother is pretty broken up about it.”

“Yeah, I know, but he’s cooperating fully with the police. They may cut him some slack.”

Gracie wasn’t too sure that would happen, and she wasn’t quite sure she really wanted it to happen for Joe. This was the end of his second chances, as far as she was concerned. She and Jim had already had that discussion.

“Heard that they might have something to do with your Uncle Stan’s accident, too.”
Midge arched an eyebrow and looked over her reading glasses.

“Well, there’s some talk about it, but they’re still investigating that.” Warning lights came on in Gracie’s head about going too far with Midge.

“Seems like it could be what happened. Don’t you think it’s pretty strange that your cousin Charlotte and your uncle would have weird accidents? Oh, hi, Howie.”

Howard Stroud eased himself onto a stool two down from Gracie and smoothed his Buffalo Bills tie over an expansive belly. He pushed his glasses up onto his broad forehead.

“Hey, ladies.” He grunted as he adjusted his position on the stool.

“What’ll it be today?” Midge had her pencil and pad ready.

“A cheeseburger all the way and a side salad, no dressing.”

“You’re kidding, what’s going on?” Midge demanded.

“Ah, my doctor is after me to lose some weight. Gotta start somewhere, I guess.”

“All right, but didn’t you do that last summer?”

“Yeah, but he told me if I don’t lose 25 pounds and start exercising, I’ll end up having a bypass or worse.”

“Well,
good for you, Howard. Men always lose weight easier than women.” Gracie smiled encouragingly.

“We’ll see. It’s no fun, though. Polly is all over me at home. At least I can have some red meat in peace here.” Howard looked dismal.

“Gracie was telling me about the big robbery investigation.” Midge ripped off Howard’s order from her pad and walked toward the kitchen. A waitress came through the swinging doors with Gracie’s salad. Midge grabbed the salad and handed the order to the waitress.

“I hear that Joe Youngers got arrested.” Howard took a sip of the ice tea that Midge managed to hand him, while giving Gracie her salad.

“Unfortunately, yes, but he’s cooperating fully with the sheriff’s department.” Gracie felt like a broken record.

“I was just telling Gracie that it’s pretty strange that her uncle and cousin would have weird accidents.”

“What cousin? Did something happen to Isabelle?”

“No, no, Charlotte, Isabelle’s sister. You remember that hit-and-run,” Midge called from the coffeemaker as she dumped out grounds, put in a fresh coffee, and poured water into the Bunn.

“Oh, yeah. That was a long time ago.” Howard looked quizzically at Gracie as she stabbed the salad methodically with her fork.

Gracie was frantically thinking of something to steer the conversation away from her family.

“I think the sheriff’s department will get it figured out soon. Hey, you know we’re busy getting ready for a dog match at the kennel. We’ve only got a few weeks to get an agility course put together.”

“Dog match?
What’s that?” Midge was now distracted, and Gracie gratefully capitalized on it in excruciating detail.

Howard inhaled his lunch, looking eager to escape. It wasn’t lost on Gracie, but an idea had popped into her head, and she needed to see him alone. Midge rang up their bills, and they both stepped out onto the sidewalk into the bright afternoon.

“Howard, do you have a couple of minutes? I’ve got a harebrained thought to run past you.”

“Sure, I’m walking these days for exercise, so just follow me back to the office.” He pulled a toothpick out of his shirt pocket and started picking at his front teeth, dislodging a small piece of lettuce.

“Great. I need the exercise myself.”

The office was just two blocks down Main Street. A group of kids played tag in a front yard next to Midge’s, as they strolled under the maples.

“I’ve been doing a little family history lately, especially about Charlotte.”

“Really?
Genealogy stuff?” He flicked the toothpick into the street.

“Kind of, but actually about her accident.
There seems to be some information missing about the car that hit her.” She hoped her voice was nonchalant and steady.

“Well, it was a hit-and-run. They never did get a good ID on the car or the driver.”

“I know, but they had a partial license plate number.”

They had reached the insurance office, a converted Victorian house complete with perfect gingerbread. The house was painted in blue, gray, and white. “Stroud Insurance Agency” was hand-lettered in gold across the large bay window in the front.

“I guess it didn’t do them any good, though.” Howard pulled the office key from the pocket of his brown polyester pants and stuck it in the old-fashioned brass lock.

“Right, but I think my Aunt Shirley kind of shut down the investigation for some reason, so I’m wondering if you have records on vehicles you insured from back then.”

“How many years ago was that?”

“
About twenty years, 1992.”

“I don’t throw out much. I keep a lot of old records in the storage room down in the cellar. It’s not the driest down there, and I’m not sure how far they go back.”

“Would Polly know?” Gracie’s pulse quickened, and her mouth was dry.

“Probably.
But, Gracie, I can’t let you just go through those records, if that’s what your next question is going be. It’s confidential insurance information.”

“I know, but if the police made an inquiry, you’d let them look, wouldn’t you?” There had to be a way into Howard’s cellar full of paper.

“Well, I guess. I’d have to. I’d need a subpoena duces tecum, you know, a subpoena for records. I don’t know why you’re so focused on this. Seems like you have enough of your own troubles without borrowing from others.” He gave her a reproving look.

“I know, but Charlotte’s been on my mind since…” She felt tears pricking and blinked to gain control.

“Hey, I understand. I think. Gracie, let’s get the lawsuit handled with the kennel first.”

“Right, but I try not to think about that too much. I’m just trying to keep the kennel solvent
until all this bad publicity goes away.”

“Goes away? Remember where you live, honey. This is
the best scandal around, right now.” Howard’s face crumpled into a broad smile.

He pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his forehead. He turned the floor fan to “high.” The air-conditioning must be out of commission, thought Gracie.  The office was stuffy and very warm.

“Yes, I remember. But I’m stubborn, and Jim’s an optimist about the kennel. I hope we can contain the robbery damage and get the lawsuit settled soon. I’m not going to allow this business go down in flames.”

“I’m doing my part. The insurance company is sending an investigator to check out Beth’s story. I think there’s something fishy going on with it, but for the life of me, I don’t know what. Beth’s been brought up right. Frank and
Evie are good folks. Maybe a stranger can discover the information we can’t.”

“Thanks, Howard. I really appreciate all the work you’re doing on this. Jim and I will see Nathan this week. He needs our signatures on some paperwork, so we’
ll see what he says about it.”

“It’ll get
resolved, and with a little luck, we’ll have it settled in six months.”

“Six months? I hope it’s sooner than that.” Gracie wanted this whole thing well behind her before winter.

“Six months is fast, Gracie. Patience is a virtue, you know.” Howard looked properly cherubic as he settled himself into the large, creaking swivel desk chair.

“So my mother tells me, Howie.” She gave him a good-natured glare and turned toward the door.

It was obvious that she should go, but Gracie couldn’t resist one more stab at the agency’s old records.

“So, is there any chance Polly could do a little research for me on that license plate? You know, check on who might have had a plate close to that number?”

“Ah, well, I guess I wouldn’t have a problem with my lovely spouse looking through the records, but you’d have to talk her into it. I’m not going to get in the middle of that. She’s pretty busy off hours playing tennis and biking this summer. She’s trying to set a good example for me.” He grimaced and patted his stomach.