Family Matters (22 page)

“What were they fighting about?”

“I don’t know, but Char’s sister said something about doing the right thing for the family, and Char said, well, something not so complimentary about the family.”

“Did you ever talk to her about that ‘discussion’ with her sister?”

“Never got the chance. That was the night she was killed.”

“Oh.” Gracie swallowed hard. “Do you know who Charlotte went home with that night?”

“It was Matt. Charlotte left the locker room without talking to anybody. I ran after her to see if she was OK, but Matt was walking her to his car. He had his arm around her, and I could tell she was crying.”

Why hadn’t Matthew mentioned that to Gracie? Maybe he knew a few more details, and he wasn’t telling for some reason. He found Charlotte. He saw the license plate. Just maybe the preacher’s son didn’t want her to find out all the details. The trail to Charlotte’s killer was taking a new path for her. A rap on the office doorframe startled her and she looked up to see Marc.

“Hey, Kelly, a deputy is here, and I need to go. I’d like to talk with you some more if you have time.”

“Sure, Gracie.
Give me a call tonight.”

Gracie motioned for Marc to come in as she hung up the phone.

Marc’s “developments” were unsatisfactory to Gracie. The sheriff’s department believed Gracie was most likely attacked by a man and not a woman. There had been a report of an attempted rape at the Lower Falls cabin area the previous weekend and a peeping Tom report at another area campsite. Their theory was the unknown male attacker and/or peeper was still lurking in the park. Isabelle’s alibi of taking her children to the airport for out-of-state camps had checked out. Greg was in Massachusetts at a football camp, and Anna was in Virginia attending an exclusive D.A.R. History camp. Poor Anna. It was unlikely Isabelle had time to get back from the airport and find Gracie in the park to try and kill her. Apparently, they didn’t know her cousin like she did.

“How would Isabelle know where you were anyway?” Marc was obviously irritated that Gracie wasn’t joyful about the possibility of her cousin’s innocence.

“Most likely, my mother. My parents live just down the street from Isabelle, and they talk all the time. Plus, keeping a secret in Deer Creek is like collecting rainwater in a sieve. No one’s life is all that private.” Gracie got up from her chair and paced the living room.

“Apparently, there are some secrets in this place.” Marc’s face was unreadable as he stood to leave.

“Sorry if I’m not more excited about what you’ve found out. I know that I was attacked because of Charlotte. It has everything to do with that and not with some would-be rapist in the park.”

“We haven’t found that connection yet, but like I said, we’re still working on a few other pieces of information. The insurance report and—”

Gracie cut him off.

“I appreciate that, but I think you should talk to Dr. Kelly Standish at the vet clinic. She told me some things today that could help you.”

Gracie wasn’t ready to name any more names. She wanted to see for herself if Matthew Minders was still in town, and if no one was taking her seriously, then she’d do her own investigating. She also needed to try and find Bryan Murdock. What if Matthew was Galahad or even Lancelot?  What had her cousin been doing with all these guys? If Marc talked to Kelly, then maybe he’d start connecting the dots, as she had.

“OK then. How do I get in touch with her?”

Gracie quickly scribbled the clinic’s number on the message pad by the phone.

“Here’s the number. I just talked to her a few minutes ago.”

“All right. I’ll call her. And by the way, you
are
looking better, even if you are multi-colored.” He grinned and swept up his hat from the dining room table, placing it on his head.

“Thanks, I think. And thanks for the report. I do appreciate what you’re doing.” Gracie grinned back.

It still hurt to smile. There was a moment when she wished he would grab her and kiss her hard, but then she winced inwardly, deciding it would probably be painful. That would have to wait for another day. Now she wanted to get to town and do a drive-by of the parsonage.

When she saw Marc’s cruiser disappear over the small knoll on Simmons Road, she grabbed the keys to the SUV. Haley was already at the door, panting and wagging.

“All right, I’ll take you. I probably need the protection, although I don’t think killing raccoons qualifies you.”

Gracie drove slowly from the yard, hoping the dogs wouldn’t alarm significantly to get Jim’s attention. She really didn’t need a chaperone or any more safety speeches for single women. Looking in the rearview mirror, she determined that she’d made a clean getaway.

Main Street was quiet for a Friday afternoon. It was right before the bank and the other scattered businesses would be closing for the weekend. Midge’s only had a few cars, but within an hour, there would be a line out the door. Haley was already sleeping on the back seat. Not a sign of a great guard dog. Labs weren’t known as reliable protection anyway. They’re just not built that way. Gracie drove toward the Village Park, taking Maple to swing around the block, rather than turning off Main onto Park. That way, she could cruise a little less conspicuously past the parsonage.

She struggled with the thought of Matthew stalking Charlotte and possibly fathering her baby. It wasn’t the Matthew she’d known growing up. But then she didn’t think he’d withhold information about Charlotte after all these years either. How could he live with himself? He had a family. He was the minister’s son, but maybe he had gone off the deep end for some reason. Had he been tired of rejection? Had Charlotte pushed him, or was there another trigger?

Gracie drove slowly down Park Street. Matthew’s minivan was parked next to his parents’ sedan. She could see two children playing in the shady backyard of the parsonage. The old rusty swing set she remembered playing on as a kid, with its red and white striped poles, was still in use. Matthew hadn’t left town after all. Her stomach felt queasy. Why was he still here?

Gracie’s cell phone began ringing. While she dug in her tote bag to find the phone, she made a quick U-turn and parked around the corner on Maple, out of sight of the parsonage. It was Marc.

“Gracie, where are you? I’ve been trying to call your house.”

“I got a little cabin fever, so I’m just driving around.”

“Gracie, you really need to go home. I’ll meet you there.” His voice was tense and humorless.

“All right.
All right. Is this about my cousin? Do you finally have something on her?” Gracie was actually hoping that it was about Isabelle and not Matthew.

“It’s not what you think. Just go…. now.” Marc’s voice faded, and the connection ended.

“Figures, the call would drop.” She threw the cell phone back into the bag and pulled out into the street. Haley sat up on the backseat and pressed her nose against the closed window. She panted in Gracie’s ear as the SUV headed for home.

The kennel was already closed when Gracie pulled into the driveway. With no pickups this afternoon, Jim had given the dogs their supper early and sent Marian and Cheryl home. He had an important date with Laney. They were going to Rochester for a fancy dinner and then to a concert. Jim must be truly smitten to get dressed up and actually get out of Deer Creek.

The house was quiet as Gracie dropped her keys on the kitchen counter. Now she’d have to wait for Marc. This had better be good. Haley bounded to the patio door, begging to be let out.

“Hang on, girl. I’ll let you out in just a second.”

She opened the door, and Haley ran onto the lawn, stopping to roll on the grass before heading toward the hydrangeas. Before Gracie could close the door, a strong hand covered her mouth and dragged her backward into the living room. She twisted and tried to swing around to see her attacker, but the other arm caught her by the throat and pulled her away from the door. Gracie’s body was in overload with pain and fear as she struggled to pull the arm away from her throat. She tried to get a deep breath, but it was impossible. With a violent jerk, she lunged, put her chin down, and bit the strangling arm.

“
Ahh, you stupid…”

The adrenaline rush helped her momentarily forget the throbbing pain coursing through her arms as she grunted and broke free. Tim Baker faced her, panting and rubbing his bleeding arm. He lunged and grabbed her long hair, slamming her to the floor. Gracie felt disoriented staring into Tim’s dark, enraged eyes. He was a man who’d lost control. She didn’t know this Tim Baker. His breath was heavy with liquor as he glowered over her. She noticed a V-shaped gash on his right cheek. Blood was smeared toward his hairline. His hands were pressed on her windpipe, and she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness. Gracie knew she didn’t have the strength to fight back. It was useless. She heard Haley growl, and the pressure on her throat suddenly lessened. Tim struggled to get off Gracie. Haley had nailed the seat of his pants. Tim pushed away from Gracie, kicking and cursing Haley, who yelped and jumped away as Tim’s foot landed on her flank. Gracie rolled toward the coffee table, frantically looking for any kind of weapon while Tim was distracted with the dog,
who nipped at his leg. He punched Haley’s chest, knocking the dog’s front legs out from under her. The big dog dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

“Get up, Tim.” Isabelle’s voice was measured and calm.

Gracie got up on all fours to see her cousin standing over Tim, holding a pistol at his head.

“I said, get up.” Isabelle’s face was cold, and her eyes glittered with anger. Every blond hair was in place, and the expensive, hand-embroidered blue
shorts outfit looked freshly pressed.

“Isabelle, you don’t want to do this.” Tim’s voice was suddenly penitent as he sat rubbing his right leg, examining the tears in his pants.

“I’m doing something I should have done long ago. You seduced my sister, got her pregnant, and then killed her. I’m tired of your threats, and I’m tired of keeping promises to my mother. You killed my father, coerced me into covering for you, and now you’re trying to kill my cousin. You’re not going to get away with anymore. I don’t care what I have to do.”

Gracie gulped for air, horrified at the scene unfolding in her living room. She could only croak weakly for Haley. The dog was breathing, but not getting back up. Tim’s arm suddenly struck like a snake and grabbed his wife’s well-tanned leg, pulling her off balance. Isabelle squealed in surprise and tumbled backward to the carpeted floor, the gun falling from her hand. Tim stood, a frightening smile smeared across his face.

“Your mother thought she was protecting you, not me all these years. You’re the one who had an ‘accident’ the night Charlotte died,” Tim gloated. “I set her straight the day she died. She was pretty upset.”

He picked up the gun and shoved it into his pants. His left foot was pressed against Isabelle’s throat. Isabelle grabbed Tim’s left leg with both hands. He shook her off, and then with a flourish, pulled her up.

“Stand up, my dear. There are a lot of things you don’t know, and now you and your sweet cousin will leave this world without finding out. What a shame. If Gracie had minded her own business, we’d still be living the good life, so you can blame her.”

Tim pulled the gun out of his pants and pointed the barrel at Isabelle. He motioned to Gracie to join her cousin on the sofa.

“Put the gun down, Mr. Baker.”

Marc was somehow standing in the living room, his
Glock aimed at Tim. Gracie hadn’t heard even the squeak of the screen door.

“Well, ladies, I guess the cavalry has arrived.” Tim laughed and swun
g the pistol toward the deputy.

G
racie spread a red-checkered tablecloth over the rough-hewn picnic table and looked toward the Middle Falls, spilling in beautiful ferocity down into the Genesee River. A perfect day, and from all appearances, a normal one too. Families played Frisbee, and kids chased each other on the broad lawns of the Middle Falls picnic area in Letchworth Park. Haley slept soundly on her back under the shade of the picnic table. The sturdy Lab had recovered from her nasty encounter with Tim. She had a deep chest bruise, but otherwise seemed to be fine. Haley sported a new shiny tag on her collar that read “World’s Greatest Dog.”

A small caravan of vehicles pulled into the parking lot—her parents, Jim, and then Marc. They were lined up in a neat row next to Gracie’s RAV4.

Laney stepped out of Jim’s pickup. She was carrying a large foil-covered dish, and Jim was lugging a cooler. She had long black hair that swung easily at her waist. Tanned and graceful, she had an easy smile and exuded confidence.

Marc and her father hauled two more coolers to the table. Her mother toted her classic harvest-gold Tupperware cake carrier. Serious picnicking was about to begin.

After the past week, normalcy seemed abnormal and numbing. Tim had died a day after surgery with
a gunshot wound to the chest. His funeral had been a private family affair. Isabelle said she’d only gone for Greg and Anna’s sake. Tim’s parents and two brothers and their families had barely spoken after the short service performed by Rev. Minders. How do you bury a murderer? Gracie had a new respect for her longtime pastor. He had done it with a grace and simplicity that even brought a measure of comfort to Gracie.

The last week had also given Gracie some real time to sort out a lot of emotions and baggage she’d carried since Michael had died and she had lost their baby. She still ached for them, but she’d finally begun the process of forgiving herself—for finding Michael too late t
o help him, and for the fall that caused the miscarriage when she was scrambling up the steep bank to get her cell phone from the SUV. After two attempts on her life, Gracie also had come to grips with the reality that her life meant something, and just maybe, she needed to get on with living.

She watched Laney and Jim and saw a comfortable relationship, one reminiscent of her own with Michael. Jim and Marc pulled out gloves from a beat up duffle bag, along with a softball. Laney laughed and talked with Theresa as they laid out plates and silverware. Her father was cleaning the grill and making sure the fire was just right to grill the burgers.

Marc looked relaxed in khaki Bermudas and a blue T-shirt. He threw the softball with a practiced arm. He was on mandatory administrative leave for another week while the details of Tim’s death were officially determined. There was no question he’d be cleared of any wrongdoing. Besides Isabelle and Gracie, Investigator Hotchkiss and another deputy were present when Marc pulled the trigger. Tim had decided in a split second on his own fate—suicide by cop. From his twisted viewpoint, he was tying up the messy story into a neat package for his family. There was too much he didn’t want to face.

Gracie shook her head at the rampant
mis-communications and sorry concept of right and wrong that some of her family members had. Tim, the handsome and charming college man, had seduced a willing Charlotte, promising that he loved her and not Isabelle. When she turned up pregnant, Tim was livid, accusing her of trying to trap him into marriage. All the power had suddenly shifted to Charlotte and it was unacceptable. His fling had gone seriously awry. He demanded that Charlotte get an abortion, which she refused to do. He then threatened her with harm if she told anyone who the father was. Charlotte had already told her father about the pregnancy, and Tim was afraid that she’d told him the whole story. Tim had gotten Isabelle to come home with him that awful weekend on the pretense that he wanted to ask for her hand in marriage. He decided to take one more crack at Charlotte over that Friday night. He waited for her to leave the babysitting job and followed Charlotte up the street. He tried to get her in the car, but she ran away from him. When she crossed Main Street, he saw his opportunity and hit the accelerator—hard.

Isabelle had been out visiting friends that same night and had hit a deer on her way home. The front end of the car was a mess, but the deer had managed to get away. Isabelle had come home hysterical after her accident. Then they had received the phone call about Charlotte. Shirley and Stan had labored under the misconception that Isabelle must have accidently killed her own sister. In an attempt to hush up the pregnancy and the possibility of Isabelle receiving jail time, they had effectively discouraged the investigation, pleading emotional distress. If Isabelle had accidently killed her sister, they didn’t want
the police to find out and run the risk of losing both daughters. It was something Shirley and Stan couldn’t contemplate.             

Gracie’s instinct about the license plate proved correct. Although she intended to implicate her aunt or cousin, Investigator Hotchkiss discovered Tim’s car had a similar vanity plate at the time. A little further investigation into the insurance records showed that Tim’s car had been in a
“deer accident” the same night. A collision shop in Buffalo had made repairs a week after Charlotte’s funeral.

Isabelle hadn’t really understood her parents’ suspicions over the years. It was only when her father had given Gracie all of Charlotte’s papers, and Tim became increasingly agitated, that she began her own investigation. When she found her mother’s diaries full of fears and suspicions in Tim’s desk, Isabelle was desperate at first to preserve her lifestyle. She eagerly gave Investigator Hotchkiss information about Gracie’s temper to keep her cousin in the hot seat.

Tim had confessed to Stan’s murder and the attack on Gracie at Inspiration Point as he lay in the hospital bed. He was actually proud of his prowess as a killer and the ease in taking his father-in-law’s life. He’d walked in on Stan as he was leaving the message on Gracie’s machine. Stan had tried to get upstairs to his bedroom to lock Tim out, but it only took seconds to choke Stan and throw him down the stairs for good measure.

After the porno ticket was found, Tim knew it was only a matter of time. Isabelle knew about Tim’s little diversion and the trips he took on Friday afternoons. His debit card also showed he bought gas in Geneseo, just minutes before the matinee. She had painstakingly gathered the online banking records and turned that piece of information over to the sheriff’s department. Expecting her husband’s arrest, she’d sent Greg and Anna out of town. Tim had become increasingly abusive, and Isabelle was afraid for her own safety.

Everything had blown up Friday afternoon. Isabelle called 9-1-1 after Tim had attacked her while she was working in her flower gardens. She’d hit him with a trowel, and he’d taken off. Isabelle guessed where he was headed and followed her husband to Gracie’s before the police could get to Milky Way.

Gracie rubbed the bruises on her arm. They were finally disappearing. Life just might finally settle down. Marc came up and put his arm around her. His touch was light and comforting.

“Feeling any better?”

“I think so, but it all still makes my head spin.”

“It probably will for years to come,” her father said as he put thick burgers on the grill. “It’s not easy for any of us to understand. If only Shirley and Stan had confided in us. We could have helped.”

“I don’t know about that. It was hard for Aunt Shirley to ever be wrong. I still can’t believe Isabelle actually came to my rescue.”

“Blood is thicker than water,” Theresa piped up.

“Yeah, but I’ve never been sure that we were actually related.”

“When the cards are down, family comes through.” Theresa’s eyes were bright with emotion.

“All right, but what will she do now? What will those poor kids do?” Gracie already felt Greg and Anna’s pain of returning to high school and trying to explain about their father, the crazed murderer.

“I think she’s going on an extended cruise with them,” her mother said as she placed a large bowl of tossed salad on the table.

“A cruise?
With Isabelle?I’m not sure that would be my ide
a
”

“And what would your idea of a good time be?” Jim shot back before Theresa could say the same to her daughter.

“A week off, sleeping in every day, and having someone wait on me hand and foot.”

“That’s a cruise, Gracie, and just so you can make plans now, your mother and I have booked one for you in September. When Jim gets back from his fishing trip, you can go.” Her father was smiling, but his tone was reminiscent of one of her many childhood scoldings.

“By myself?”

“Take a friend, or you can take me, if you want,” Theresa’s eyes twinkled.

“I’ll think about it. Who knows what’ll happen by September? We have to get through the church’s chicken barbecue next week, Deer Creek Fun Days, Pike Fair, the dog match, an
d
” Gracie’s mind whirled at the thought of her upcoming schedule.

“I think it’s a great idea, Gracie.” Laney released Jim’s hand and walked toward her. “It’s relaxing and a lot of fun.”

“I agree, but there’s way too much to do at the kennel.”

“It can be handled, Gracie,” Jim quickly jumped into the conversation.

“The trip is five weeks away. That’s plenty of notice for you.” Her father turned the burgers on the grill. “Plus when you get back, Tom should be home. They’re kicking him out of Afghanistan.” Bob grinned broadly.

“Tom? He’s coming home?” Gracie’s heart suddenly felt pounds lighter. Her brother was finally coming home, and it was two months earlier than expected.

“His email came today, and he’ll be home mid-September. He says he’s bringing home a surprise.” Her father flipped the burgers with a flourish onto the waiting buns his wife held out to him on a large white platter.

“A surprise, as in presents, or something else?”
Gracie’s curiosity was piqued now.

“We can talk about this later. We’re ready to eat.” Theresa said firmly.




The church was filled close to capacity, but this time, it was for Sunday morning worship and not a funeral. Rev. Minders peered over his reading glasses in surprise at the large congregation. He hadn’t seen a Sunday morning like this in ages. His wife looked at him from her front pew with the same bewilderment. He hoped he’d prepared the right sermon for this crowd, and he prayed that someone else hadn’t died. These last three weeks had been the most exhausting of his 40 years in the pastorate. No wonder he’d had an angina attack right after Tim Baker went on his rampage. He was thankful Matthew had been home at the time to help. It was good to have family around.

Wonder of wonders, Jim Taylor was in the back row with a lovely woman on his arm. Midge was there, sitting next to Mrs. Youngers, who sniffed into her tissue and wiped her eyes every few minutes. Midge hadn’t darkened the door of the church since her husband had left her, and poor Mrs. Youngers was suffering over her oldest grandson Joe yet again.

Gracie stood with the congregation when the organ trumpeted the opening measures to the
Doxology
. There was a hand on her arm, and Marc slid into the pew beside her. Theresa and Bob smiled brightly at their daughter and then at each other. Gracie joined the voices for the first time in a long time. It was then she decided that a cruise was a great idea.