By the Book (A Gracie Andersen Mystery 2) (22 page)

“I think we’ve got a good case to give to the D.A. Ms. Castor has been very eager to get everything off her chest. She’s refused a lawyer so far, and we’ve made a lot of progress,” the investigator said drily. “She’s a chronic victim and has successfully managed to keep that persona through two murder investigations. I have to admit she had me. Especially with the dog being poisoned. But she did that herself.”

Gracie gasped. “She what?”

“Castor had to escalate her danger somehow, and the dog was the last leverage she had.”

Gracie frowned, sick to her stomach. Someone intentionally harming their own dog or any dog was beyond the pale.

The woman continued, “She had a violent argument with Dr. Aaron over money. He had been shorting her on several deals, and when she confronted him, he threatened to ruin her doctoral program. He turned his back, and Ms. Castor struck him with the statue on his desk. Alice Harris walked in on the scene, and since they both had bones to pick with Dr. Aaron, they formed a shaky partnership to continue bogus appraisals and take generous cuts from the sale of historical artifacts. Mrs. Harris thought she could control Ms. Castor, but that was a fatal mistake.”

“Why did Terry keep the knife sheath? It would tie her to Alice’s murder. That doesn’t make any sense to me.” Gracie rose from the chair and sat on the edge of her desk.

“She thought it would implicate Jack or Sybil or even both of them.” Investigator Hotchkiss grimaced. “Killers always make at least one stupid mistake.”

“So Terry had the Cornelia Becker letters when she stopped at the library?”

“Exactly right. She accompanied Mr. Dover with the payment to the Woodsons and then convinced him that she should take one more look at them to confirm their authenticity. She’s been a voracious collector of any documents connected with women as spies during the Revolutionary War. It was her doctoral thesis. All are very rare, from what I found out. The Becker letters were a huge find. Then there was the Boyd-Parker connection, which upped the value too. She appraised the letters at a good price, but they’re actually worth twice as much, according to Ms. Castor. It was just unfortunate they were lost, but she was headed out of town with them. The Historical Society would never have seen them.”

“But what about the other appraisal by the guy from Buffalo? He matched the one from Dr. Aaron, didn’t he?”

“Not everyone is an expert on these kinds of documents. The Woodsons provided Aaron’s appraisal, which was actually written by Ms. Castor, to a Buffalo firm. Let’s say they used it as a guide.” The investigator rose, moving toward the door. Gracie followed her with Haley right behind both of them.

“When I found out that Terry was spending a lot of time at the Historical Society, it started to come together. Will Dover was on my list at one point because he’s such a nut about manuscripts and first edition books.”

Investigator Hotchkiss smiled. “Mr. Dover was on our short list too. But then, Mr. Greene muddied the investigation when he lied about the Woodson connection.”

“Yeah,” Gracie admitted. “He sent me off on a rabbit trail. Apparently Jack has a grudge against the Woodsons. I should’ve known. He was a little too eager to accuse them of selling fakes. But the university’s website had an article on Terry’s work with the Revolutionary War spies. She probably had forgotten all about it since it was buried in the website’s archives. That was a big red flag. When I saw the archival storage box she picked up at the library, I put two and two together.”

“You’re right. The box you saw had her forgery kit stashed in it. Authentic eighteenth century paper and ink, which would help her create other documents to sell. She was planning on heading south last night with the Becker letters. Fortunately for us, she took the hill a little too fast, or she would have had a good head start out of town. Lucky she didn’t get swept into the creek. It was close. Marc did a good job saving her neck.”

“He’s pretty good at that in general,” Gracie smiled. “But, how did … why did Terry have to kill Alice?”

The investigator shook her head sadly. “She wanted a percentage of the knife sale, and Mrs. Harris refused to give her any money. Aaron had appraised the knife, and Mrs. Harris worked out the deal. Ms. Castor was getting greedy; she still thought she deserved something. She talked Mrs. Harris into stopping at the library on her way to make the sale with Colonel Wilson. She was working every angle to get those documents away from the Woodsons. Then she argued with Mrs. Harris … or so Ms. Castor says, and Mrs. Harris threatened to turn her in for the murder of Dr. Aaron. Ms. Castor pushed Mrs. Harris down, knocking her out, and then she finished the job with the knife. Not a pretty story.”

“Not at all,” Gracie agreed, sucking in a breath. “What about Alice’s car? Did Terry drive it back?”

“She did. It’s amazing to me that no one saw her, but then again, Deer Creek is pretty quiet.”

Gracie chuckled grimly. “Except for when it’s not.” Memories of the previous summer still made her stomach lurch.

The investigator looked down at her phone. “I need to get going. I’ll take the dogs with me today. We’ve made some arrangements that should give them both good homes.”

“Oh, I hope so. Those dogs have been through a lot in the last few weeks. You do know that they are highly trained, especially Max.”

“Yes, we do. I think they’ll be just fine. Thanks again for the call about the sheath.”

“No problem. It was a lucky find by Patti though. She thought she was protecting Sybil, but her conscience got the better of her. She called me because she thought I’d help soften the blow for her.”

“The Greenes will be dealing with some charges, but Mr. Greene was released this morning.”

Gracie smiled, nodding in approval. “That’s good news. Maybe he and Sybil can get their lives figured out now.”

It was Friday night—finally. Gracie had finished the deposit and placed it in the safe. She needed to shower and get the dog hair off her before she left to pick up the fish dinners. Tom had flown into Buffalo that afternoon with Emma safely by his side. She could hardly wait to see her niece. It had been a year and a half since the whole family had been together. Tonight it was just the Clark family with no interruptions. The sun was sliding below the horizon when she locked up the kennel. Haley was running crazily in misshapen loops through the mushy snow. The Lab apparently knew what day it was and was anxious to get on with it. The Friday routine was much anticipated. There were always scraps for Haley and a special treat at the end, usually a new peanut butter bone, courtesy of Grandma Clark.

Before Gracie’s hand touched the knob on the kitchen door, Marc’s truck pulled into the driveway. He’d called earlier and said he had something to tell her. It was the first time he’d called since the night he dragged Terry out of Deer Creek. A German shepherd was riding shotgun, which caught her attention. It had to be Max. The big male jumped easily to the ground, meeting Haley with friendly sniffing.

“Hey, Max. What are you doing here?” Gracie rubbed the dog’s head fondly and looked expectantly at Marc.

“Max and I are permanent buddies as of today,” Marc said smiling proudly, gazing affectionately at the black and tan dog.

“This is rather sudden, isn’t it?”

“Not really. He’s been staying with me since his mistress has been vacationing at the county jail.”

“You never said a word,” Gracie responded, surprised by his lack of communication about dog matters.

“It never came up. Terry asked me to take him. Kelly took Sable today, so the dogs have new homes at least. I’m afraid Terry won’t be seeing the light of day again.” He scratched Max’s head and gave Haley a butt rub since the black Lab backed up for the customary greeting.

“He’s already protection trained, so you could probably use him on the job.”

“It’s a possibility.” He paused, exhaling and rubbing his hands together. “I need to talk to you about something, and then I have to head out.” Marc stood looking at the dogs, avoiding Gracie’s eyes.

“All right. Come on in. I’m just getting ready to go pick up the fish for tonight.”

“That’s what I figured. I can’t stay long, so it’ll be quick.”

Gracie’s stomach took a turn, and her gut was telling her an uncomfortable moment was seconds away.

“Sounds mysterious,” she said nervously. She hung her coat on the rack by the door. Marc shook his head when she reached to take his coat.

“I don’t want to hold you up, so I’ll just say it. Maybe you should sit though.” He played with the zipper on his open coat, running it up and down.

“I think I’ll stand. Are we breaking up by any chance?”

“Not exactly, but maybe. I had an opportunity thrown my way last week, and I’ve decided to do it.”

“What is it?” Gracie asked cautiously, her hands shoved into her jeans pockets.

His eyes met hers, and he stumbled, “I’ve … I’m … I’m going to Arizona.”

“Arizona? What for?”

“That’s the opportunity. There’s a program for law enforcement officers to trade places for six months at a time, and there’s an opening in a place called Sierra Vista.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I’ve never heard of Sierra Vista. Where’s that?”

“Southeast of Tucson, down near the Mexican border.”

“Oh.” She desperately tried to think of a better comeback. “You know, Arizona is desert and really hot.” It was the only thing she could manage. Her brain was suddenly like permafrost.

“Right, but it’s a little different there from what the Chief of Police says. It’s near the mountains; there’s a river and an army base, Ft. Huachuca. It’s supposed to be pretty nice. I know it’s sudden, but Gracie, I don’t think you’re or we’re ready for …” He took a breath, “anything serious.”

She agreed with a slow nod. It was true. Watching him rescue Terry had made her think about the dangers of his work. She couldn’t bear to lose him. It would be too much. Besides if he hadn’t thought she should be in on a decision like this, they really weren’t ready for the next level. She took the information in and tried to formulate some intelligent response. “You’re right.
I’m
not ready. We’re not ready.” It was painful to admit. “So when do you leave?”

“Actually tomorrow. I’ve got to finish packing tonight, and then we hit the road in the morning. Max is going to get some training out there too, and I think the change will be good for both of us. It’ll be totally different, that’s for sure. I’ll probably have to brush up on my Spanish.” He stopped suddenly, looking at her intently. “You’re OK, right?”

“Yeah, I’m OK.” She realized that she was leaning on the kitchen counter, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of her. “Shocked, I guess. Wow! I didn’t see this coming. You’ll let me know when you get there and keep in touch and …” Feelings overwhelmed her suddenly.

Marc reached out and pulled her toward him and gave a hug that about crushed the life out of her. “I will, and I’ll be back. Maybe we can … you know …” He released her, and she stepped back and sat down on the bar stool.

“Maybe we can. Unless you really like it out there in the heat and dust.”

“After this winter, I could use some heat, and I wouldn’t mind the dust all that much,” he laughed. “I’ll be back, scout’s honor,” he smiled, giving her an official Boy Scout salute.

“Were you a real Boy Scout though? That’s the question,” she grinned, trying desperately to make the moment light.

“Bonafide. I’ll call, and we can email. Six months will go by fast.”

“All right. I guess it’s vaya con Dios, then.” She didn’t want to prolong this scene any longer. It was hurting more than she imagined.

“Adios, Gracie.” She slid off the stool, and he pulled her into his arms one more time and gave her a long, luscious kiss that made her feel a little dizzy. Her eyes were burning with tears she hoped she could hold back until after he was gone.

She sat at the kitchen bar staring out of the window. The tears ran down her face in a torrent. His truck was already disappearing into the dusk. The red taillights evaporated into the descending twilight.

Midge’s was hopping as usual on a Friday night. The clank of plates and the constant rumble of conversation filled the small restaurant. The smell of frying fish was making her ravenous. Gracie stood at the counter, waiting for the order of fish dinners to come out. She looked toward the door and caught sight of Isabelle swishing her way in, adorned with her white fox coat that made her stick out like a sore thumb. Isabelle was instantly at the counter, suffocating Gracie with some heavy scent that made her want to gag.

“Why, Gracie, you’re here all alone? I thought that handsome deputy wouldn’t leave you by yourself on a Friday night.” Isabelle’s face went cat-like, and Gracie felt her hackles rising. Knowing Isabelle, she’d probably already heard that Marc was leaving town. Or it could be that her puffy eyes gave away the recent turn of events.

“Just the Clarks tonight, Izzy.” She enjoyed seeing Isabelle flinch at the nickname.

“That’s right. Tom came home today with his little girl. How is the poor little thing?”

“She’s fine.”

“That’s good. Well, I have to meet a client tonight. He’s very interested in one of the big houses at Maplewood.”

“Good for you. That’s really nice.” Gracie couldn’t wait to escape this irritating tête-à-tête.

“More than nice. It’s going to make my career, and he’s very good looking.” Isabelle confided.

“Even better.”

A waitress plopped a tower of Styrofoam in a plastic bag on the counter, and Gracie eagerly handed over her cash. When she turned around, Isabelle was gone. She exhaled with relief. But when she pushed the door open to leave, she saw Isabelle sliding into a Jaguar on the opposite side of the street. It looked like her cousin was on the move. That might prove to be interesting.

The lights shone brightly through all the windows of her parents’ house. The kitchen windows were steamy, bright, and welcoming. Gracie took a deep breath, balancing the load of take-out containers. Emma charged out of the kitchen door, her long dark hair reaching below her shoulders. She’d certainly grown up since the last time Gracie had seen her.

“Aunt Gracie! You’re finally here!”

“I am, kiddo. Help me get the food in the house without dumping it on the ground.”

Her parents were all smiles, enjoying a warm reunion with their granddaughter, who chattered brightly as dinner was dished up from the containers. Tom looked tired, but happy to have his daughter by his side. He gave Gracie a hug and then nodded toward the living room. Her ex-sister-in-law Jan stepped from the shadows, smiling tentatively. Her left eye was swollen half shut. Dark bruises covered her face and neck. Gracie gave Tom a bewildered look.

“I brought Jan with me too. It’s not safe for her in Houston, and Emma needs her mother,” he said simply.

Gracie offered Jan a lopsided smile and then went to hug her. The woman winced slightly at her touch. Gracie silently took back about a thousand ugly statements she’d made about her former sister-in-law. It looked like Jan was lucky to be alive.

“Thanks, Gracie,” Jan whispered hoarsely.

Saturday morning was exceptionally quiet. Gracie sat in her office, twirling a pencil absently. She was reeling from the significant life changes that had suddenly come her way in the span of 24 hours. Jim walked in, and she looked up in surprise.

“Forget something? I thought you were taking the morning off.”

“I know. You were too,” he bantered back. “What are you doing here?” His Yankees baseball cap was sitting bill up, perched on the back of his head. His black hair was tousled quite charmingly.

“Just thinking about life and stuff. I might as well fill you in.”

“Have a couple of things to tell you too,” Jim said quietly, his normally twinkling blue eyes subdued and a little like a basset hound’s.

Gracie quickly told him about her romantic debacle and the sudden appearance of Jan putting a fly in the ointment for Tom and Kelly. Jim smiled sadly and sighed.

“I guess there’s a lot of that going around. Something like the flu,” he said finally. “Need to tell you that Laney and I are done.”

“What? I thought …” Gracie sputtered.

“I thought so too, but she met a guy on the last business trip. They used to date, and they hit it off again. He’s more her style—executive, high-powered. Everything I’m not and don’t care to be frankly.”

“I can’t believe it! That’s a one-eighty if I ever saw one. You don’t need her, Jim. She’s the one who’s losing out.”

“Sure. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Good grief. What’s wrong with us?” Gracie tapped the pencil viciously on the desk.

“Beats me. I guess we’ve gone to the dogs,” Jim laughed lamely. He flopped into the recliner and pulled the lever on the side, leaning back with a groan.

Gracie gave him a sideways look. “Oh, brother, good one.”

Here they were on a perfectly good Saturday, sitting in the office, acting like two dogs that had been dropped off at the pound. She could hear Georgie cleaning runs and talking to each four-legged lodger. Excited yips came from the corridor.

“Come on, Taylor, let’s go do something. I’m not sitting here all day and moping. I can do that on Monday. Whaddaya say?”

Jim pulled the recliner upright in a flash.

“Wanna go to Letchworth and check out the falls and maybe do some hiking?”

“Sure. It’s a nice day. Haley can use the exercise. So can I. We can get a pizza after that.”

“Kitchen Sink?”

“Absolutely. I’m not starting my diet until the snow’s gone. Let’s go.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Growing up in rural Western New York where cows outnumber people gave me a love for the great outdoors and the magical world of books. A good book for me usually had a horse or a dog as the main character, or even better, a mystery to unravel. I now make my home in southeast Arizona, enjoying the mountains and fabulous night skies. Since 2005, I’ve been writing professionally and find there’s nothing more exciting than creating stories and connecting with readers.

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