By the Book (A Gracie Andersen Mystery 2) (16 page)

Theresa hung up the phone and sat down next to her daughter on a stool at the kitchen counter. Gracie pinched the bridge of her nose, wishing the headache would disappear.

“What did they say?”

“He’s going to be OK. And although you want to be guilty of his heart episode for whatever reason, you’re not. It was a bad battery in his pacemaker. Iris said the doctors are sure that’s what it was. She also said he’s been having problems for two weeks and wouldn’t see the doctor.”

“Maybe, but if I hadn’t brought up the investigation and Sybil, and … oh, I don’t know Mom. This whole thing is  crazy.” Gracie wanted a Xanex, in fact several of them, in the worst way. A do-over on the entire afternoon would be peachy too. “There’s just so much that’s going on there. I wish they’d catch whoever killed Alice and whoever’s terrorizing Terry. What is the sheriff’s department doing? Sitting on their hands?”

“Don’t blame them. Things aren’t always as they seem. It isn’t your responsibility to solve Alice’s murder, nor is it your responsibility to figure out what the library staff is doing. Let the police do their job and you concentrate on running your kennel. What in the world were you thinking when you joined the library board?”

Gracie sighed and looked up at her mother. “I thought it would be simple, and I wanted to help them out.”

Theresa was busy sorting the leftovers on her kitchen counter. “You should have stayed out of anything with committees.”

“All right. I get it. I guess I’d better go home and check on the kennel. I’m sure Jim isn’t very happy with me again.”

“I’d say that’s a good idea. I’m going to heat up some of these leftovers from the funeral for your Dad. Do you want to take a plate home?” Theresa was already scooping scalloped potatoes from a foil pan.

“No. I think I’ll skip the ham. I don’t feel much like eating anyway. But a plate for Terry would be good. I need to check on her anyway.”

“That’s a good idea. Go tell your father goodbye, and I’ll have it ready in just a minute.”

Gracie pulled into the driveway just before closing time. She waved to two customers who were pulling out. Snow was beginning to fall again, and this time it looked like it was settling in for the night. All was well, and Jim seemed downright cheery. Marian had already left since the grooming schedule had finished early. Cheryl turned over the day’s receipts and shot out the door. From what Cheryl had said over the past few days, she needed to keep an eye on her daughter. Jim was already in his dilapidated recliner when Gracie brought the bank bag in to count the receipts. Haley greeted her mistress and then went back to her bed to chew on her favorite peanut butter-filled bone.

“You look mighty happy there, Jimmy,” she teased, sitting down and pulling the calculator toward her.

“You’re exactly right. Want to know why?”

“You know I’m dying to know. My best guess is that it has to do with Laney. Am I right? Are you finally going to let me know what’s going on?”

“It is. She’s moving down to the lake house in the spring.” He leaned forward, and his dark blue eyes were positively shining. “She’s also arranged to work from home two days a week.”

“Sounds great. Does this mean that things are, well, moving in a certain direction?” Gracie rolled up the calculator tape and paper clipped it to the cash and checks.

“It could. I may actually do a little traveling with her when she has a business trip. We’re both making some compromises.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“Well, it’s going to happen. We’re both so focused on our jobs, we need to step back and focus on our relationship if it’s going to lead in that
certain
direction.”

Gracie looked up from the calculator. “You’ve actually talked about the “M” word?”

“Well, sort of.” Jim squirmed a little in the chair. “We’ll take it slow.”

“Ah. That’s the Jim Taylor I’m familiar with,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Honestly, Laney’s the best thing that ever happened to you, and the relationship is worth working on.”

She dug around in her desk drawer for some aspirin. The headache she’d gotten after the ambulance took Will away was still nagging.

“Did you survive the funeral excitement?”

“Mostly. I didn’t get a chance to tell you that Will Dover had a heart episode and was taken to the hospital. He’s OK though. This whole library thing is out of control.”

“No doubt, Chief. I told you not to get involved on a committee. They’re time wasters and now you’re up to your waders in police stuff again.”

“Sadly, you are correct, and you’re echoing my mother’s sentiments. It all goes back to trying to be a good neighbor. If I hadn’t taken Terry in, I wouldn’t even care about the library. It seems like it all started when she arrived, but after looking at things today, it started a lot longer ago that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a good neighbor. You sort of get carried away with it.” His eyes crinkled with humor.

“Right. But I made a promise to help them out until the end of March. I’ll be ready to throw in the towel by then. But Terry’s scared to death of whoever is stalking her. She’s going back to work tomorrow, so I’m taking the dogs to her tonight.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t want the dogs with her. That’s kind of strange, if you ask me.”

“You didn’t see how bad she looked. She should’ve gone to the doctor, but like the rest of us, Terry’s stubborn about that stuff. She has an alarm service, so the house is pretty secure.”

“That’s good. Well, you and Marc doing anything this week?”

Gracie raised an eyebrow and frowned at her partner. “Don’t know. I haven’t seen too much of him lately. He’s always taking extra shifts.”

“I don’t blame him on that one, Chief. You’re sending him mixed signals. One day everything is good, and the next day you barely speak to him. You were pretty icy when we went skiing. You need to figure out what direction you want to go in
your
relationship. I’m not the only one with issues here.”

She knew it was true. Marc had wanted to talk with her after they’d gotten back to the house, but she’d told him there was too much work in the kennel. He hadn’t been very happy, and neither had she.

“I’m sending myself mixed signals. Just when I think I can be with someone other than Michael, I start having dreams about him, or something happens to remind me of all the good times we had.”

“For cryin’ out loud, Gracie. There’s no way Michael would want you to be alone or unhappy. You need to move on. Michael is in the past, and Marc is very much in the present.”

“I know. I know. I’m just not quite ready,” she said, zipping up the bank bag and placing it in the small safe beneath her desk. “I’m sure you want to go home. I know I do. Don’t worry about the alarm, I’ll set it.”

Jim shook his head and said, “Good enough, Chief. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Gracie took her time walking through the corridors and checking on each of her boarders. Haley followed, greeting her fellow canines with subdued tail wagging. Gracie’s sour mood had transferred to the Labrador. The glum pair walked through the darkness and trickling snow to the house. A pair of headlights swung into the driveway while Gracie was stomping the snow off her boots on the kitchen steps.

Didn’t people call anymore
?

Fortunately, it was Kelly, and she had some interesting news to share. She’d tried calling Gracie’s cell phone all afternoon, but without success. Gracie had forgotten to turn it back on after the funeral service. While Haley positioned herself next to Gracie’s feet, Kelly unloaded her information. She’d spent most of her day dealing with sick calves and vaccinations at Woodson’s farm. The calf feeder for the Woodson farm was a friend of Patti Hurd’s. She was a talker, and Kelly took advantage of their quality time together.

“This cousin of Jack’s is pretty sure he’s going to be arrested anytime now. The family thinks that Jack confronted Alice for the money he was owed, and they got into a fight. One of those crimes of passion, she said. She also said Jack and Sybil are having money problems. Their house is on the verge of foreclosure, and they’ve run up all of their credit cards.

“How would Jack have gotten the knife though?”

“Well, that’s an interesting tidbit,” Kelly smiled grimly. “Alice was supposed to be delivering it to a buyer that night.”

“I wonder why she’d do that and not Roger?” Gracie couldn’t imagine giving someone that job. She’d want the cold, hard cash handed to her personally if it was her knife.

“Don’t know. I thought that was a little strange myself. But, Trac
y
that’s Patti’s frien
d
didn’t say. She also mentioned that both Sybil and Jack were pretty upset when Terry got the job. They’d been counting on Sybil finally landing the librarian position and getting themselves out of their money problems.”

“That’s a bit of a dream. The salary for the librarian isn’t exactly huge.  I’ve wondered why Terry took the job. She had to be making a lot more at the university.”

Gracie sat at the dining room table, sipping a hot cup of tea. The click of dog nails on the patio doors signaled that Haley wanted to go out. Kelly got up and opened the French doors. The black Lab immediately bounded into the snow. Gracie left her chair to rummage in the refrigerator. She had three cartons of yogurt, a half-gallon of milk, and leftover meatloaf that looked suspect. She sighed.

“I was going to offer you something to eat, but it seems that the cupboard is bare. Oh, wait a minute; I’ve got Tin Roof Sundae ice cream. She pulled open the freezer drawer and snatched the container.

“Sounds good to me,” Kelly responded, opening the doors for Haley to reenter. The dog shook snow from her back, spraying the vet and the carpet. Haley trotted into the kitchen, eyeing the ice cream on the counter.

“None for you, my dear,” Gracie admonished the dog. “I just put fresh food in your dish.”

Haley sniffed at the brown bits in the big red bowl. She looked back over her shoulder at Gracie handing a bowl of ice cream to Kelly and then at the kibble. Deciding that she’d wait to see how the leftover situation worked out for her, she ambled to her bed by the fireplace and flopped down. She kept one eye on the two women while pretending to snooze.

Kelly put the blue ceramic bowl on the coffee table and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “Has Tom said anything to you about our big date?” she asked.

“What big date? Marc and I have a date tomorrow night, finally.” She slid her bowl onto the coffee table.

“He’s taking me to dinner and then to a concert. The Rochester Philharmonic is doing a Copland and Gershwin concert,
Appalachian Spring
,
Porgy and Bess
,
Fascinatin’ Rhythm
, and—”

“Wow! Didn’t know you liked classical stuff.” Gracie laughed, enjoying Kelly’s excitement.

“Well, it’s not exactly classical. Jazz and classical, I guess.”

“Still, getting my brother, who’s definitely a country music guy, to spring for a concert like that is pretty good.”

Kelly blushed and laughed nervously. “I know. But he’s got the tickets, and I have this funny feeling … ”

“Ohhh, like it’s
the
night?”

The pretty vet shrugged and then smiled. “Maybe. I just wondered if he’s said anything to you that might …”

Gracie giggled. “He hasn’t, but I’ll bet the kennel he’s going to ask you.”

Haley nonchalantly sat up and scratched half-heartedly, eyes glued to Gracie’s lonely bowl of melting ice cream.

“Do you have an answer in mind, girlfriend?”

Kelly blushed again. “Of course I do.”

“That’s the right one—I do.” Gracie leaned over to hug her friend. Haley saw her chance and plunged a wet nose into the ice cream bowl.

Jim strode into Gracie’s office and threw the Wednesday morning edition of the paper on her desk.

“Did you hear about this on the news yet?” He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat on the edge of the recliner.

“Yes, I did.” The front page headline blared: ‘Library Employee Arrested in Trustee’s Murder.’ It looks like it’s all coming down on Jack’s head.”

“Do you really think that Jack could have done it? He’s hot-tempered, but to actually stab a woman? I’m not so sure,” Jim countered.

Gracie pulled the grooming schedule for the day off her printer.

“If you’d seen how wacked out he was the day the body was discovered, you might not be surprised. Looking at it now, I think he was terrified that Max would find the body and he did. Jack was going to make sure Alice was well-buried in the snow until spring.”

“Maybe,” Jim said. He drained the mug and went back for a refill. “I can’t figure out why Roger gave that knife to Alice though. The report says that it was being sold in a private sale.”

“I don’t get that either. The knife was supposed to be part of a gift to the library from Roger’s grandmother’s estate, but I found out it’s been in dispute. There were some letters from the attorney to the board about whether Roger owned it or his grandmother’s estate. Must be the ownership had been cleared up if he was selling it.”

“Unless he was trying to get away with something,” Jim said.

Gracie paused. “Good point. You know, the board didn’t mention that the knife was out of the bequest at the funeral. They were still talking like it was coming to the library. Maybe Mr. Woodson isn’t out of the woods on this yet. I do know that Terry has to be relieved that Jack is in jail. She’s terrified of him.”

“If that’s who’s been causing all of this trouble for her. I guess we’ll find out if it all stops.”

“Marc and I actually have a date tonight, so maybe I’ll ask him.”

“Sounds like a great topic for a date,” Jim grinned, taking a sip of coffee.

“Well, it looks like they’re wrapping up the case, so he might tell me something.” She batted her eyes and laughed.

“Ah, the feminine wiles approach,” Jim chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

He shook his head and carried the steaming mug with him as he left the room. She heard him whistling the theme song from the
Andy Griffith Show
as he walked down the hallway
.
The dogs joined in and added their best backup yelps and barks.

Gracie sat staring at the computer. But what if Jack hadn’t been the one who slashed Terry’s tires or left the note? She clicked on a new tab in the browser and navigated to the Seneca University site. Terry hadn’t thought it was Jack when she’d found the note on her windshield. She’d been afraid of someone from Seneca or connected with Seneca. She scrolled through the art exhibit page that boasted of the fine collection of New York Civil War memorabilia on loan from the Woodson family, the collection of Raymond J. Robinson, and Colonel Marvin Wilson. The information about each of the donors wasn’t much, but Mr. Robinson was the descendent of Major General Raymond J. Robinson, who’d fought at Gettysburg and later had taught at West Point. When she clicked on the Robinson name, a photo and short bio appeared on the present Raymond Robinson. The man looked very familiar.

Where had she seen him? Was it somewhere else on the university’s website? She scanned through the departmental pages, but nothing appeared. There was no photo of Colonel Wilson, but he was a West Point grad and a well-known collector of Revolutionary and Civil War weapons and documents. He was retired and had written a book about the Iroquois and their role in the Revolutionary War. Sounded like extremely dry stuff to her. There was nothing helpful in Wilson’s bio. Then she tried the area’s local paper,
The Lance
. Maybe there’d been a photo in the newspaper of this guy. The story about the murder of Jon Aaron had made headlines again in the last week. Clicking on the story’s link, she gasped. The headline read, “Deer Creek Murder Victim Connected to Aaron Murder.” She ran out to find Jim.

“Listen to this, Jimmy,” Gracie said breathlessly, glued to the computer monitor.

“All right. I’m listening. What are you all in a lather about?” He sat on the edge of the desk looking over her shoulder.

“Alice and this Dr. Aaron were selling these high priced antique guns, knives, and who knows what else between private collectors.”

“So? That’s not illegal as far as I know.” He slid off the desk and stood with his hand stuck in his pockets.

“Well, no … but this Dr. Aaron was doing some phony appraisals to jack up the price on the buyer’s side and lowering it on the seller’s side. This article says the police found some records hidden in his office that spell it out. There was a set of dueling pistols, early 1800s that were really worth $30,000 to $35,000. The unnamed seller said Aaron appraised them at $25,000, and the unnamed buyer got an appraisal from him for $40,000. The buyer worked out a deal with Aaron for $35,000.”

“What did he do? Pocket the difference?”

“Just about. He told the seller he got $3,000 more for them and gave him $28,000, and then pocketed the difference.”

“Sheesh. What a guy!”

“Exactly. He made it look like everyone was getting a deal and was making a tidy sum on the side.”

“What’s this got to do with Alice?”

“She was apparently finding sellers for stuff, and Aaron was finding buyers.”

“How do you even get involved in that kind of thing? If I had some big-ticket items to sell, I sure wouldn’t let anyone collect the cash for me. I’d be there counting it all before they ever got their hands on it.” Jim frowned and slid out one of the molded plastic chairs from the wall and sat down.

“Me too. But I guess if you want to keep things hush-hush when you’re dealing with a lot of money, maybe that’s the way to do it.”

“Not me. So is Roger involved with this scam then?”

“It doesn’t say, but I’ll bet he is. Alice had his knife and was on her way to sell it. Maybe she hooked up with another guy like Aaron.”

“And it got her killed. Stupid, if you ask me. I guess you’ll have some really interesting questions for your favorite deputy tonight,” he said, rising from the chair.

“I guess I will,” Gracie mused, tracing a finger over the mouse. If Alice’s killer had been after the knife, it probably took Jack out of the picture. But where had she seen that Robinson character before? It was going to keep gnawing at her. Gracie leaned back in her chair and pondered the day’s schedule. Maybe a sweet roll and some coffee at Midge’s would make things clearer.

The crowd at Midge’s was thinning when Gracie arrived. Fortunately, her favorite stool was available at the counter. She snagged it immediately and dropped her oversized tote bag on the floor.

“Morning, Gracie.” She glanced up to see Roger Woodson seated on the other side of the counter. With his John Deere cap pulled down almost over his eyes, she hadn’t recognized him at first.

“Hi, Roger. Sorry I didn’t see you sitting there. How are things down on the farm?”

He scowled and shrugged his shoulders. “Not too bad. Of course, milk prices stink, but your payments all remain the same. You know, it’s the same old story. It’s hard to make a living being a dairy farmer in this economy. You should be glad you’re not farming anymore.” She smiled crookedly and sipped her coffee. He pushed back his cap and scratched his head. His sandy hair showed a distinct hat indentation. “I hear you’re on the library board these days.”

“I’m afraid so. I think my timing was bad to start serving the community. I really didn’t need to get involved with a murder investigation.”

“Who does? It’s been a disaster from the beginning. My big mistake was trusting Alice. Now that knife could be held as evidence for years.”

“I’d sure want to get rid of it, especially now,” Gracie said.”

“Well, it’s still worth plenty, and there are buyers if you know where to look.”

“Really? Was the issue of ownership cleared up? I’d heard it was coming to the library from your grandmother’s will.”

Roger huffed and pushed away his plate with remnants of French toast and sausage. “It was always mine. My grandfather gave it to me when I graduated from college. The attorneys finally got it straightened out a few weeks ago.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good for you then. Wasn’t there a painting or something else?”

“The painting was hers, and you’ll get a pretty penny for that. I don’t know much about art, but it was appraised for a bundle.”

“Who did the appraisal? The board can’t seem to find anything on it.” Gracie adjusted her hair clip and wondered where the waitress was.

“Uh … I don’t know.” Roger wadded up his napkin and tossed it on the plate. “Grandma’s lawyer is some old coot that should’ve retired about 10 years ago. Ask Will. He knows. He’s called me or my lawyer almost every day for six months. What he really wants are the letters. He can’t come up with the cash though. Shouldn’t have listened to Alice and sunk his money in that crazy development. Gotta go, Gracie.” He pulled his cap forward and adjusted it. “See ya.”

Gracie watched him push through the door and out onto the street. Suddenly Midge appeared with cup of coffee.

“Thanks, Midge. Any sweet rolls left?”

“I had two. Let me check.” Midge hurried to the kitchen.

Gracie turned back to watch Roger get in his huge pickup and roar up Main Street. She mentally kicked herself for not asking if Catherine had gotten her email. Midge reappeared from the depths of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a paper towel.

“They’re gone. Sorry,” Midge said, edging her way to the counter.

“Rats! Just my luck.”

“Hey, did Roger tell you about his theory on the murder?”

“No. I would think he’d be careful since he was or may still be a suspect.” She sipped the black coffee, wishing that she could justify a piece of pie, but her jeans were getting pretty tight.

Midge waved her hand. “That never stopped Roger. He says that Alice owed Jack a bunch of money as her handyman. He quit doing repairs for her because she wouldn’t pay him. Guess he’d had enough.”

“Alice owed everybody, apparently.”

“That’s right. Some of her properties are on the back taxes notification in the paper. She just didn’t have a knack for rental properties. Rented to the wrong people and couldn’t keep a good tenant to save her life. Oops. Didn’t mean that.”

Gracie rolled her eyes and let Midge continue. The small, wiry woman’s eyes were bright with the desire to share her knowledge.

“Jack has a bad temper, but I don’t believe he could kill anybody. He’s a coward. Sybil rules that roost, and he does as he’s told. I can see Sybil … well, just sayin’.” Midge broke off the conversation and took some cash from a man in a black suede jacket. He wore sunglasses and a black stocking cap. She rang him up quickly and handed him the change.

“Of course, Roger isn’t lily-white in all of this, you know,” Midge continued.

“What do you mean?”

“It was his knife, wasn’t it? Who says he gave it to Alice? Just Roger as far as I know.” She winked and whirled around to look at the clock. “Kinda fishy, if you ask me.”

Bonnie hollered from the kitchen for Midge. “Bread man’s here!”

“Gotta run.”

Gracie decided it was probably time to move on before Midge got more creative with her theories. So Sybil and Roger were on Midge’s radar. But Jack was the one sitting in jail. There had to be more to that. With any luck, Marc would help her out with some fresh information.

Gracie stayed mostly focused on kennel work the rest of the afternoon. She did keep a pad close by where she was formulating a list of questions that she thought Marc might be able to answer tonight. When Marian and Cheryl told her good-bye at closing time, she suddenly realized that she didn’t have much time to get ready. Without serious persuasion tactics, Jim agreed to do the final bed check and set the alarm. Gracie raced Haley to the house. She had just 45 minutes to look gorgeous, or at least presentable, and head for the Maple Tree Inn in Short Tract, where towers of buckwheat pancakes and gallons of maple syrup awaited.

The line was out the door at the restaurant, and they stood in the cold with about 20 other people, sucking in the smells of boiling maple sap steaming from the roof vents. She was surprised there was any sap to boil, but the few warm days must have gotten it running. Finally they were seated comfortably by a window in the log cabin-style restaurant. She didn’t need to check the menu to know what she was ordering—pancakes, sausage, and eggs. Marc ordered the same, and they sat back to enjoy the ambiance of large family groups chattering and consuming pancakes as fast as they could be brought to their tables. From their vantage point, they could also see the cooks at the huge flattop, flipping pancakes with lightning speed.

“I’ll have to buy a jar of maple cream when we leave. It’s soooo good on vanilla ice cream,” she gushed dreamily. “I love this place. I just wish it was open more than just a few weeks out of the year,” Gracie complained.