Needle and Dread (16 page)

The concept was easy enough—grab purse, open door, step out of car, take steps onto porch, and say hello. Really, it was common courtesy when you drove across town for the sole purpose of spending time with someone.

Yet no matter how many times she tried to psych herself up to do just that, the second-guessing started.

There's no way Minnie did this . . .

Minnie is far too sweet . . .

What kind of person am I to even think such thoughts about someone like Minnie?

Sure, she tried to counter each incident of mental browbeating with an equally strong counterpoint, but every time she did, she came back to the same fact: Minnie looked just like Mrs. Claus.

“Forget about Mrs. Claus, dummy,” she admonished herself. “This is about helping Rose.”

Sighing, she grabbed her purse, opened the driver's side door, and stepped out onto the gravel lot. Minnie's head slowly turned in her direction, followed by a moment of recognition and an emphatic wave.

“Hi, Minnie!” Tori crossed the grass onto the stone walkway tasked with leading her onto the porch. When she reached the top of the steps, she veered left toward the swing and its neighboring set of rocking chairs.

“I was just starting to wonder if I should alert Nathan and Hannah to the fact that someone was sitting in their driveway . . .” Minnie toed the swing to a stop and then patted the empty spot created by her sudden shift to the left. “There's room for you on here, Victoria.”

“No, it's okay. I'll take this rocker right here.” Slowly, Tori lowered herself to her chosen chair and rested her purse at her feet. “I'm sorry if my sitting in the car so long like that worried you, Minnie. I guess I got a little wrapped up in my imagination.”

It was true, of course. She had gotten wrapped up in her imagination. Minnie just didn't need to know that included an image of Mrs. Claus in shackles . . .

“I do that, sometimes.” Minnie slowly resumed the lazy pace of her swing. “Only my imagination takes me to a time when I was young. You already
are
young, Victoria.”

She searched her thoughts for something to say that would address the elderly woman and ease her own twisting conscience. “My husband wants to take me to a bed-and-breakfast in Amish country next month. I'm not sure if we're going to be able to make it happen, but if it's as picturesque as this place is, we're going to have to find a way.”

Minnie's answering smile had Tori bracing for a
ho-ho-ho
. “Yes, do find a way. If I've learned one thing in my eighty-three years, it's that life zips by when you're busy doing things that don't matter. It's inevitable.”

“Rose says the same thing.”

“Of course she does, Victoria. Wisdom comes with age. That's why you'll hear us old farts imparting such tidbits on the young. Because we want you to learn these things before it's too late for you, too.” Minnie ran her weathered hand along the swing's armrest. “Can't you just see yourself sitting in a swing like this, with your husband's arm around you, neither of you caring about anything but each other for a little while?”

Scooting her body all the way onto the rocker, Tori gave in to its rhythmic motion and instantly felt the stress of the day begin to to slip away. “That's the way it was on our honeymoon last month. It was just the two of us with no papers to grade for him and no board business to attend to for me. There was nothing to really decide besides whether we wanted to eat dinner in our cabin or go out to a restaurant.”

“
Those
are the memories you'll carry in your heart forever, not the ones related to jobs and to-do lists.”

There was something about Minnie that made Tori want to remain in her rocking chair for hours, soaking up every word the woman uttered. It was the way she
felt whenever she was around Rose. And it was the part she missed most about her late great-grandmother.

Ask her about Opal . . .

Bumping her head against the back of the rocker, she stared up at the ceiling. More than anything, she wanted to ignore the voice in her head and keep on with the ruse that was her visit thus far. But to do so wouldn't do anyone any good.

“Victoria? Are you okay? You seem troubled all of a sudden.”

She cast about for something to say only to land on her only choice—the truth. “I guess I'm just worried about Rose. When she hurts, I hurt.”

Minnie stilled the swing once again. “Did she fall?”

“No. No. I'm talking about her shop. In just the two weeks or so it's been open, it's given her spirit a lift. It's as if having that gave her a purpose she didn't feel she had before.” Tori looked down at her hands and then back up at Minnie. “But now, after everything that happened there on Saturday with Opal, all of that is poised to be ripped from her hands if I don't get to the bottom of what really happened.”

There was no mistaking Minnie's reaction to the mention of Opal. Surprise turned to discomfort before Tori had even finished talking. The million-dollar question though was why . . .

Minnie cleared her throat and then hoisted herself off the swing and onto her feet. “There's something about this time of day that always makes me sleepy. So while it's been lovely chatting with you, Victoria, I think it's time I head up to my room for a wee nap.”

Tori stood, too, her vantage point no longer Minnie's
face but rather the elderly woman's back as she shuffled her way over to the inn's front door. “I understand. But could I ask one quick thing before you go?”

At the door, Minnie turned and nodded ever so slightly in Tori's direction even though everything else about her demeanor screamed no—her hooded eyes, the rigid set to her narrow shoulders, and the sudden clenching and unclenching of her vein-ridden hands.

“I was hoping maybe you could tell me what Opal was doing when you went in to get your apron from the project room that afternoon.” Tori closed the gap between them with several long strides. “Like, for starters, was she
okay
?”

Minnie's throat jumped with a noticeable swallow. “I left that room at the same time as everyone else.”

“And then you went back in . . . later on . . . Rose saw you.”

All color drained from Minnie's face just before it disappeared from Tori's view completely. Her back to Tori, Minnie pulled open the door and stepped inside. “I'm not feeling well, Victoria. I really must go to my room now and rest for a while.”

Tori wanted to call after her, to ask the question one more time in the hopes Minnie would answer before officially heading up the stairs, but that was silly. Minnie wasn't tired, she was simply dodging Tori's question.

Frustrated, Tori backed away from the door only to stop, mid-step, as the sensation of being watched hit her with a one-two punch.

“Tell me I'm not seeing you
a-gain.”

Tori sank down below the top of the computer monitor. “You're not seeing me again.”

“Oh yes I am.” Nina crossed from the doorway to the side of Tori's desk with hurried steps. “Didn't you finally leave here about an hour or so ago?”

“I did. But now I'm back.” She finished keying the bus driver's name into the
Jasper Falls Courier
's search bar and hit enter.

Nina's hands moved to her hips. “I see that. I just can't figure out why.”

“I got a really bad vibe a little while ago.”

“A bad vibe?”

Her eyes ran down the limited hits now listed on her screen while her mind narrowed in on each one. She
clicked on the fourth from the top. “Travis Beaker was watching from a window while I talked to Minnie.”

“Who is Travis Beaker and why was he watching you?”

Tori gestured toward the screen as an article dated three months earlier popped up. “That's why I'm back here, Nina. Trying to see if I can figure that out.”

“Does this have something to do with what happened at Rose's store over the weekend?”

“I'm not sure. Maybe it does, or maybe this guy being at the window meant nothing at all.” But even as the words left her mouth, she knew the latter part didn't feel right. In fact, if hair could truly stand on end, Tori's would have been doing just that as she scurried off the inn's porch and made her way back to her car.

For several long moments, she'd sat behind the steering wheel, staring up at the window that had started everything, looking for any indication of who'd been listening in on her conversation with Minnie. It was only when she finally gave up and slipped the key into the ignition that the same sixth sense that had washed over her on the porch sent her eyes upward to the second floor half a moment before Travis ducked out of view.

Sure, she'd entertained the possibility that his presence at that window was a complete coincidence, but that notion had disappeared as she placed the car into reverse and the outline of his body remained just behind the thin white curtain he'd hastily drawn closed.

Travis Beaker, according to the article now on the screen, had organized a picket in front of the Jasper Falls Town Hall. Curious, Tori read on . . .

Spurred by the death of his wife and daughter at the intersection of Route 5 and Market Avenue, Beaker has demanded the high-traffic area move from a stop sign to a traffic light for months. And slowly but surely, his cause has garnered support from Jasper Falls residents who, like Beaker, are concerned about safety.

His latest picket, which included fifty-five residents and a petition of nearly a hundred more signatures, has netted the issue's placement on the agenda for next month's council meeting.

“It's a step in the right direction,” Beaker said.

“Oh. Wow,” she whispered. “He lost his family.”

“Who did?”

“Travis Beaker. The bus driver with Rose's tour group.” She skimmed the rest of the article and then looked up at her assistant. “His daughter was only fourteen.”

Nina's hands moved to her cheeks. “I—I can't even imagine that. I just can't.”

A child's squeal from down the hall sent Nina scurrying toward the office door. “It sounds like my momentary lull in patrons is over. See you day after tomorrow?”

“Assuming I actually leave, yes, I'll see you day after tomorrow.”

She listened for a moment as Nina greeted their young visitor and then turned back to the computer screen. Anxious to know if Travis's efforts had worked, she exited out of the current article and scrolled up to one dated a month later.

LOCAL MAN LOSES FIGHT

“Oh no.”

Tori right-clicked on the link and began to read . . .

Travis Beaker of Jasper Falls lost his crusade to increase safety at the intersection of Route 5 and Market Avenue Tuesday night. Council members voted three to one against adding a traffic light to the troublesome thoroughfare, citing a need to keep commuter traffic flowing during rush hour.

“Commuter traffic?” Tori mumbled. “In Jasper Falls? Oh, c'mon . . .”

Beaker, still reeling from the unexpected defeat, refused to comment. His biggest opponent, however, did not.

“Part of the appeal of Jasper Falls is its simplicity. Erecting a traffic light at an intersection that should simply be navigated with caution would take us one step further from that simplicity,” said Jasper Falls native—

“Opal Goodwin,” she read aloud.

Her heart ached for the man who'd lost his wife and daughter in what essentially amounted to a split second. While so many people would have lost themselves in grief in the aftermath of such a tragedy, Travis had tried to make sure the same fate didn't befall anyone else.

A buzzing sound from the top drawer of her desk diverted her attention from the screen long enough for Tori to fish out her phone and hold it to her ear. “Hey, Charles, what's going on?”

“I wish I could answer that with something truly fabulous, but I can't.”

“Is Leona on a date or something?” She made herself turn away from the computer in order to focus on her friend, but even as her eyes moved to the library grounds, she found her thoughts straying back to Travis and the powerful motive his defeat provided.

“Paris had an appointment to get fluffed and, since I wasn't supposed to even still be here at this point, I insisted Leona go.”

Tori glanced over her shoulder just long enough to read the clock. “You just figured she'd be back before
The Stern and the Sensuous
ended, didn't you?”

A beat of silence was followed by a whiny
no
.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

“I
am
wearing my red jeans . . .”

She laughed. “See?”

“When do you get off work, sugar lips?”

“I've been off all day.”

“Ooooh . . . the possibilities. Why didn't you call me? We could have done Debbie's and then followed it up with a stop at Shelby's Sweet Shoppe.”

“I needed my brain to be sharp,” she said, half joking.

“And sugar doesn't make it sharp?”

“No, it makes it loopy. You know this.”

“True. So where are you now, love?”

“At the library. In my office.”

“But you said it was your day off,” Charles protested.

“It is.”

“I'd reprimand you, Victoria, except I do the same thing with the bookstore. Only when I'm there on my day off, I'm holding court in the café.”

It was a description she knew was dead-on and one that made her smile. “I needed to do a little research on the computer, which turned into a little
more
research on the computer after stopping out at the inn to talk with Minnie.”

Charles gasped. “You're investigating? Without me?”

Uh-oh.

“I just wanted to check a few things in the
Jasper Falls Courier
is all. You know, to save us a few unnecessary steps.”

She could almost hear the internal battle raging on the other side of the phone, and it took everything in her power not to laugh. Laughter would only add insult to injury. Instead, she weighed her options and decided on feather smoothing. “We need to talk. Motives are popping up all over the place.”

One sniff was followed by another and then, “What kind of motives?”

“Ones I shouldn't say over the phone,” she said, casting the line and slowly reeling him in.

“They're that good?” he whispered.

“I'll be there in ten minutes.”

*   *   *

Her feet had barely hit the welcome mat outside Leona's door when a thin arm reached through the opening and pulled her inside. “I thought you'd never get here.”

She returned Charles's hug and then stepped back for a head (now covered with green spiky hair) to toe (bare and freshly manicured) inspection. “Green?”

“I know. Not my best look.” Charles linked his arm
through Tori's and walked with her down the hallway and into Leona's living room. “So, did you bring it?”

“Bring what?”

“The notebook.”

She dropped her bag onto a nearby ottoman and pulled out the object of Charles's fascination. “I did.”

Snatching it from her hands, he opened it, flipped through the pages, and then turned an accusatory eye in her direction. “You didn't add anything.”

“I know. I was waiting for you to do that.” It was a slight fib, of course, but a painless one. Reality had had her too busy to make any additions. She reached into her purse one more time and extracted a pen. “Here.”

Charles squealed as he took the pen and dropped onto the couch in his favorite crisscross pose. “So who has the motive?”

“Gracelyn.”

His eyebrow hiked upward. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

He flipped to her page and prepared to write.

“Travis.”

Snapping his head upward, he stared at her. “Sugar lips, you just said Gracelyn.”

“You're right. I'm also saying Travis.”

His mouth gaped and closed and gaped again. “They
both
have motives?”

“They sure do.”

Charles leaned forward, the excitement on his face luring her down to the couch, too. “This is getting good, isn't it?”

“It's getting interesting, that's for sure.” Sinking into the corner of the couch, she, too, hiked her legs up, only
instead of imitating Charles, she bent hers at the knee and shifted her feet toward the armrest. “Opal didn't just keep Gracelyn's kids from opening businesses. She made them take their dreams elsewhere—the daughter to California and the son to Texas, I think.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning Gracelyn is now living in Jasper Falls all by herself.”

She rested her left cheek on the back of the couch and waited while Charles dissected her words. When he caught up, he spread his hand and began to fan himself. “Oh, Victoria. A mama lion separated from her cubs can get mighty angry—I've seen it myself. Many, many times.”

“You have?” she asked.

“Yes. At the Bronx Zoo.”

“Okay, then there you go. Confirmation that Gracelyn has motive.”

Holding her off with his hand, he made notes on Gracelyn's page and then flipped to Travis's. “Okay, now proceed with Travis . . .”

In a flash, she was back in her office, reading the articles that had left her head spinning and her heart aching. “Travis had a wife and a fourteen-year-old daughter.”

“
Had
?”

“They were killed in a car accident in their town about six months ago. Since that time, Travis has tried to get Jasper Falls officials to put up a traffic light at that intersection. He picketed the town hall, collected signatures on a petition, and built up a nice little army of supporters,” she explained. “But it appears as if Opal waved her magic wand and convinced the board to vote Travis's request down.”

Charles sucked in his breath so hard, she actually worried, briefly, that he'd somehow managed to swallow his tongue. But just as she was leaning across the cushion to check, he spoke. “How did you find this out?”

“I did a little research on him after I discovered he'd been eavesdropping on a conversation I was having with Minnie out at the B and B.”

“You were investigating
Minnie
without me, too?”

“Gracelyn mentioned some strange behavior on the part of Minnie that I thought should be checked out. So I drove out to the inn and talked to her. Only, Minnie wasn't having any part of my questions.” She recovered her position in the corner of the couch and pulled the closest throw pillow onto her lap. “As she was heading inside in a blatant move to dodge me, I had this weird feeling that I was being watched. I didn't see who it was until I was starting to back out of the parking lot. That's when I noticed Travis.”

“Why do you think he was watching you?”

It was a question she'd asked herself more than a few times on the drive from the inn to the library. “I think, originally, he was listening as much as watching. Then, when he moved up to what I imagine is his room, I think he was watching—to make sure I was leaving.”

“Why would he care?”

“Maybe because he wanted to make sure my sights were on someone other than him for Opal's murder?” It was the only thing that made any sense. Especially in light of what she'd just learned about him in relation to the victim.

“But they
were
on him, right?” Charles prodded.

“Not at that moment, they weren't. But it was after I
caught him watching me like that that I did a little checking and uncovered this power move of Opal's.” She traced her finger along the pillow's delicate pattern and then tossed the entire thing onto Leona's favorite chair. “My heart aches for this guy, you know? I mean, instead of wallowing in his pain, he tried to make sure the same thing won't happen to someone else.”