Fly by Night (A Gracie Andersen Mystery Book 3) (15 page)

Gracie slipped into the last pew to avoid parading down the center aisle to join her parents, who were in the third pew from the front. The group of teenagers who’d parked in the back to escape their parents gave her wary looks. She smiled at the uneasy teens and turned her interest to the week’s announcements. The Strawberry Social was only three weeks away, and as always, lots of volunteers were needed. Her mother would be hulling strawberries for that, and no doubt, Gracie would help serve shortcake. It was an annual tradition.

The organ trumpeted out the introduction for the opening hymn. Everybody stood without prompting and sang three vigorous stanzas of “Holy, Holy, Holy,” complete with the “amen” at the end.

Once the sermon was in full swing, Gracie looked around to check out who was in attendance. She caught sight of Duane and Kim on the other side of the church near the stained glass window of Joseph dressed in his “coat of many colors.” Duane towered protectively over his mother. His young face was hard as he stared straight ahead at the pastor. Duane had short, dark hair and was built like his father, although he was in great physical shape. Gracie imagined that D. B. had once been fit like his son, but that hadn’t been true for many years. As the pastor’s voice rose in volume to make his point, Gracie swiveled her neck back to turn her attention to the pulpit.

“Are you only a Sunday Christian? Are you pretending to be someone you’re not?” Pastor Minders thundered uncharacteristically.

Even Fred Barnes, who typically fell asleep during the first sentence of the sermon, jerked awake. He sat with his wife directly behind her parents. His surprised half-snore brought snickers from the teenagers next to her.

After the benediction, the congregation straggled back to the Fellowship Hall for coffee time. Gracie caught up with her parents to check on Sunday dinner logistics. A roast was in the oven, so Theresa asked her not to be long. Tom and Emma would join them for dessert. There was no mention of Tom’s girlfriend and her best friend, Kelly Standish. The fact that Kelly’s veterinary skills had saved a poisoned dog during an awful winter also made her a hero in Gracie’s eyes. She’d have to call Kelly today and find out what was happening between her and Tom. The reappearance of Tom’s ex-wife had slowed down what Gracie believed was a sure trip down the aisle.

Kim and Duane got their coffee and chatted with Dan and Darlene Evans, owners of the hardware store. Kim’s face showed a deep weariness. The dark circles under her eyes that makeup wasn’t going to cover were a dead giveaway. Duane left his mother’s side when he caught sight of a couple of friends home from college. While he talked with them, Gracie made her way to Kim. She was more than happy for Gracie to check out the redecorated bedrooms.

On her way out the door, Gracie noticed Autumn Richter in an animated conversation with Si Silverbrandt, the town assessor, in a corner behind the table of pastries. She hadn’t seen Autumn in the worship service. Where had she come from, and why was she there?

*****

Clouds were building for another rainstorm as Gracie parked her SUV in Kim’s driveway. Duane answered the door and called for his mother. Gracie stood admiring the sweeping staircase, deciding immediately that it must be fun to decorate at Christmastime. It had a
Gone with the Wind
feel, and she imagined making a grand entrance to a party below. Kim quickly led the way upstairs. Dense beige carpet cushioned Gracie’s sandaled feet as she climbed the stairs. The long hallway had five bedrooms, and Kim opened the door to the first one on the right.

“Here’s Sara’s old room,” Kim said, motioning Gracie to enter.

“Wow, very nice,” Gracie said with true appreciation.

A metal four-poster bed was the focal point, and the bed design was totally original. The footboard, headboard, and the four posters were crafted to look like bamboo. The dark patina on the metal frame was perfect; it was modern, with an antique look. The windows were covered in buttery colored sheers with delicately woven bamboo blinds to give privacy. The walls were a peaceful green, the crown molding was white, and the bedding was a luscious deep gold with a simple vine embroidered into the silk that picked up the color of the walls. The vine ran diagonally through the middle of the comforter. The accessories—ginger jars and a ceramic Chinese horseman, mounted on his steed—were placed in just the right places in the room. An orchid bent elegantly over the teak nightstand. Its creamy white flowers added to the peacefulness of the room.

“I didn’t think I’d really like an Asian theme in this house especially, but Carla really made it work,” Kim said. She sat down on the low teak bench near the foot of the bed. It was upholstered in the same bedding fabric and embroidered vine.

“I’ll say she did. Where did she find this stuff?” Gracie ran her hand over the comforter and stood back to admire the composition.

“She’ll scour every antique and furniture store in Western New York to find the perfect pieces. I think she found most of this furniture from a place near Buffalo. The bedding was handmade by a lady in Castile. She does beautiful work. My sister and her husband have dibs on this room when they visit. Sara just wants to take the furniture to her house.” She laughed easily, rising from the bench. “Let me show you my retreat.”

They walked to the end of the hallway and the last bedroom.

“This was Carla’s first project—right before she opened her business. I wanted to redo the bedroom for D. B., but he was too stubborn to let a decorator in there, even though she came up with a very nice design. I took a chance and let her try out her stuff for me instead. This bedroom has a bathroom too, so it made sense for me to move down the hall.” She waved her hand toward the half-closed doorway at the end of the hall. “The master at the other end has a bathroom too. The others share the hallway bath.” She pushed the door open.

It was a sunny room with a bank of windows on the east and a double window on the south. Large ferns and white cyclamen in deep red and black ceramic pots were placed on curved floating shelves between the windows. The high ceilings and ornate crown molding made it feel even more spacious. Gracie’s eyes swept across the room, attempting to take it all in. It seemed out of character for Kim, whose tastes were quite conventional, as displayed in the rooms on the first floor.

It was a totally modern bedroom. A trim queen-sized bed with an upholstered headboard anchored the room. It had storage drawers built below it with brushed stainless pulls. Cherry hardwood floors gleamed warmly, and a thick, creamy, deep wooly area rug was a huge pool of softness. It spread in all directions from under the bed. A built-in computer desk with bookshelves, all painted in taupe with accents of crimson, provided a simple, but elegant workspace. A modern ebony chaise, upholstered in a print that had the same taupe and crimson, graced the corner where more bookshelves were built-in below a dark wood chair rail. The bedding was a deep chocolate with tiny crimson flowers embroidered abstractly across it. The comforter looked very expensive, and her first guess was it was handmade by the same woman who’d made the other bedding. The walk-in closet with all the built-ins and the spa-like bathroom made her drool with envy.

“Oh, my gosh, Kim! This is absolutely gorgeous. You must love it!”

“I do. I’m glad you like it. This was another case of Carla’s creativity. I thought I wanted a frilly, traditional bedroom, and she talked me into this. And I’m glad she did. D. B. hated it, but it wasn’t his room,” she said with a faraway look in her eyes.

“My guess is that D. B. was heavy on tradition.”

“Right. And he was a terrible packrat. I couldn’t get rid of anything. Here, I keep just what I need and no more.” She stood with arms folded across her ample bosom. There was some fire in her eyes that Gracie hadn’t seen before. It made her feel uneasy in some peculiar way. She quickly changed the subject.

“Thanks for the tour. I guess there’s no reason why I shouldn’t let Carla have a whack at my bedroom.” She glanced at her watch. It was already 4:30. It was time to get her canine boarders fed. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I need to run.”

“I’d love for you to stay for some coffee and dessert. There’s homemade strawberry rhubarb pie.”

“I’d like to, but I really can’t. I need to get back to the kennel. There are 30 hungry dogs right now, and I’m the feeder of the kibble tonight. Thanks again, Kim.”

The women padded silently down the long corridor. Gracie’s cell phone chirped, announcing a text just as they started down the stairs. She pulled it out of her tote bag and checked the message. Jim was going to help her feed the dogs, and then he had to go look for a missing Toby.

Jim filled the last of the metal bowls with food. Every dog got some lovin’ along with a supper bowl. Ears were scratched, tummies rubbed, and hugs dispensed. Reciprocity was a multitude of canine kisses. Both Gracie and Jim were well loved by the time they finished. Gracie wiped her face on the sleeve of her T-shirt. She set the alarm code and then locked up. Jim checked the rest of the buildings, making sure they were secure. Haley plowed through the high grass of the field behind the kennel buildings, easily catching up with the pair walking to the house. She’d been chasing a woodchuck earlier. Since she returned empty-mouthed, Gracie figured the woodchuck had found the safety of his burrow.

“No critter, Haley? You’re getting slow,” she chided her dog.

Haley didn’t seem concerned. The black dog trotted ahead of them, stretching and then lying down on the lawn, panting happily.

“I’ve got to get over to Toby’s,” Jim said, brushing the dog hair from his jeans.

“Where do you think he is?”

“I think he’s probably hunting up in the woods, and Roscoe’s just acting like an old woman. He doesn’t know that Toby just takes off sometimes. He hears the call of the wild or something.” He frowned, opening the door of his truck. “He left his phone in the trailer, so that’s no help.”

“Let me know if it’s anything serious,” Gracie said, turning to whistle for Haley.

“All right. I’m sure it’s nothing. See you in morning.”

The truck pulled around the driveway and headed south to Jemison Road. Haley trotted toward the backyard, following at Gracie’s heels. While Haley busied herself sniffing for stray rabbits, Gracie brought out her iPad and a glass of iced tea. The iPhone on the glass-topped, round wicker table buzzed with an incoming call. She glanced at the readout. It was Isabelle. Steeling herself for the worst, Gracie reluctantly answered the phone.

“Gracie, I’m so glad I caught you,” Isabelle said in a dulcet timbre.

The sugary tone could only mean she wanted something, and it was probably inconvenient.

“Hi, cuz. What’s up?” she responded coolly.

“We’re having a little party this coming Friday, and I was hoping you could attend. It’s an exclusive gathering for …” Isabelle paused as if for effect and continued, “for the business community. Congressman Streeker will be here and available for questions about how he intends to boost the economy in Deer Creek. He’s graciously given us the entire evening.” She finished dramatically.

An expectant silence followed. “We” were giving a party? Did that mean Kevin was a resident at Isabelle’s? That little slip bore further exploration. Maybe her mother had the scoop on it.

“Well?” Isabelle was losing patience.

Gracie knew Isabelle wanted a gushy “yes,” but another party wasn’t high on her list of priorities. On second thought, it might give her a chance to ask a few questions. Maybe the right people would be there.

“Sounds interesting. Let me check my calendar and get back to you. Anyone else significant going to be there?” She might as well find out ahead of time.

“Of course.” Isabelle hesitated slightly. “The Allens will be here, and other influential business people.”

“I see,” Gracie said brightly. It might be a very interesting time after all, especially if Mrs. Allen knocked back a few drinks. “I just realized I have my calendar right here. Friday looks good. Is it okay if Jim comes?”

It was Isabelle’s turn to pause. “Certainly. If you think that’s wise.”

Gracie closed her eyes, biting her tongue, which really hurt. “What time?”

*****

Jim shoved the gearshift into first and shut off his truck. Roscoe came out of the trailer, hair going every which way, his glasses sliding down his nose. Before Jim could climb out of the truck, Roscoe was standing next to the vehicle.

“Jim, I’m grateful that you were able to come. I’ve been thus far unsuccessful in locating Tobias. Perhaps you know where he might frequent. I’m not familiar with the surroundings and haven’t gone too far afield.” Roscoe, more rumpled than usual, looked like an emotional wreck.

“I don’t think there’s a thing to worry about. Toby goes off hunting all the time. He’s probably fishing up at the pond or checking out the best spot for deer hunting in the fall.”

Jim jumped down from his truck and walked to the anxious man to the porch.

“You say he was gone when you got up here this morning?”

“Yes, and I’ve searched the lower forest here and up to Greerson’s Meadow. I haven’t found a trace of him,” Roscoe said breathlessly. “We planned to set up a camera near the edge of the Meadow. Tobias was quite excited about the new equipment.”

He motioned toward the Geo and shoved his glasses back into place, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing erratically.

“Okay, then. Let’s take a hike up to the pond. I’ll bet he just lost track of the time, or he’s fallen asleep fishing.”

Jim hoped his guess was accurate. Toby also cut down trees by himself all the time. The man could be lying crushed underneath a tree trunk.

It took the pair a good 30 minutes to trek up the steep slope and navigate the narrow trail that led to the large pond behind the Meadow. Just before they left the filtered sunlight of the woods, Jim caught sight of a man, tanned and hatless, headed toward them through the high grasses. He stopped and pointed at the figure.

“There he is now. I told you he was all right.”

Jim quickly called his parents before Toby reached the woods. His mother constantly worried, driving his father crazy. The relief in his father’s voice confirmed his suspicion. He shoved the phone back into the holster and waved his hand to get Toby’s attention. Roscoe was already trotting out through the grass.

A deep frown bent Toby’s expression into borderline surly when he joined Jim on the trail. The sun was low in the sky, and everyone was anxious to get back to the trailer before it was dark. The pace quickened, although Roscoe still lagged behind.

“Man, you gave everybody a scare today. Where’ve you been?” Jim demanded.

He was grateful to see that most of their return trip was downhill after they reached a stand of white birch trees.

“No need to worry about me. Junior here got his shirt in a knot, I guess,” Toby glanced back at Roscoe, who looked slightly sheepish. “Somebody’s gonna hafta stop that stinkin’ windmill guy. He’s got trucks and some outfit up there clearin’ land. Looks like they’re gonna build anyway.”

He pushed a branch away from his face and strode ahead of Jim. The branch snapped back, almost catching Jim’s cheek. He ducked just in time.

“New Energy is on your property?” he asked.

“They’re over on the piece Cranston sold off. I’m not sure if it’s that New Energy outfit or not. Couldn’t see a name on the truck. Can’t believe it. I’m gonna sue somebody. I don’t want them white whirly-gigs up there.” He swore under his breath and continued down the incline.

“I think the Renew Earth guy bought that land. I can’t believe he’d let them build. He’s Mr. Environmentally Correct,” Jim said.

“Actually the wind turbines are environmentally correct,” Roscoe piped up suddenly.

“Not from what he’s been saying. He’s had petitions out to stop them, claiming they kill too many birds and have some sort of sound that gives people brain tumors,” he countered.

“It’s money,” Tobias spat out. “They’ll pay you pretty good. Why do you think D. B. was in such an all-fired hurry to get them in here? That Richter guy almost had me snowed in the beginning. He was all about keepin’ windmills outta here. His wife said the Meadow was such a special place, it oughta be kept just the way it is. To top it off, the jerk took me skeet shootin’ like he was some big-time good ol’ boy. I shoulda known better.”

Jim stopped short at the last remark. Roscoe tripped, trying to avoid running into Jim, and slid down the embankment, grabbing a branch to keep from falling.

“Oh, sorry, Roscoe. Say what, Toby? Richter shoots?”

Tobias slowed and looked back over his shoulder. “Yeah. He shoots. Mr. Environmentally Correct is pretty good too.”

Jim’s brow furrowed, thinking about the possibility of Richter getting D. B. out of the way to get to Toby and his popular piece of land. It was beginning to look like it wasn’t a farfetched idea at all.

Toby picked up the pace again, and Jim lengthened his stride, as Roscoe scrambled up the muddy slope to the trail.

The shadows deepened in the trees. The trail leveled off just as they passed by the edge of the Meadow. Jim peered over at the woods on the other side of the wide field. The sun was fast disappearing, and twilight was settling in comfortably. The glow of dim blue lights over the woods caught his attention, right before the trio made a sharp left turn toward the trailer site. Nobody else seemed to notice, so he decided to keep quiet.