Welcome to a serial fiction series of my book Gladwynn Grant Gets Her Footing, a light cozy mystery.

You will be able to read chapters of this book each Friday. You can also find a list of chapters HERE.

If you don’t want to wait for the next installment or click through each chapter, and would instead like to read the book in full, you can purchase the book in paperback ($12.99) or ebook ($2.99) on Amazon and Barnes and Noble and now on Kobo in their Kobo Plus program.

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Chapter 9

Gladwynn hadn’t been inside the Covenant Heart Church since her grandfather’s funeral. She’d made every excuse possible to avoid it, but this morning she’d known she couldn’t put it off any longer. If she was going to be living in Brookstone, she needed a home church and she couldn’t imagine attending anywhere other than where her grandfather had served for 50 years.

The church looked the same as it always had with its mahogany columns, high ceilings, tall stained-glass windows, and ornate chandeliers. Even the wooden pews that had probably been built and installed sometime in the 1950s were the same, though they now featured blue cushions to make sitting more comfortable.

Sunlight streamed across the sanctuary, falling on the people greeting each other as they sat. At the front of the church, the pulpit where her grandfather used to preach looked smaller than it used to somehow.

The church as a whole looked smaller in some ways, which was probably because she had so many memories of being in the church when she was a young child. Everything looks bigger when you’re a child.

She followed Lucinda to the front of the church, to the pew where they’d always sat as a family when she was young. The man who approached her and Lucinda was young, maybe 30, with short blond hair combed neatly across his forehead like he was about to pose for a professional headshot photo. He was the epitome of the term baby face with his smooth-shaven jawline and Hollywood-star smile.

He held his hands out to Lucinda, taking both of hers in his. “Lucinda, so lovely to see you this morning. You’re looking wonderful.” His attention turned to Gladwynn. “Is this the granddaughter you’ve been telling us about?”

His accent was thick. Irish. It suddenly clicked for Gladwynn who he was. She hadn’t recognized him not in uniform and all cleaned up, but it was the firefighter from Ellory Brooks’s accident. The one who had kept her from falling.

Lucinda’s face beamed. “It certainly is.” She turned to Gladwynn. “Gladwynn, this is our pastor, Luke Callahan. Luke, this is my granddaughter Gladwynn.”

Gladwynn took his hand, and he clasped his other hand around hers. “Ah, so we meet again. A pleasure to officially meet you, Gladwynn. Your grandmother has been so excited about you coming to stay with her. Are you settling in well?”

For a moment, staring into his bright blue eyes, Gladwynn forgot she was supposed to answer. She didn’t detect insincerity in his greeting, which made him even harder to look away from.

“Yes,” she answered after a few seconds delay. “I am. It’s nice to be back – to be here this morning.”

He let go of her hand, still smiling. “Well, I’m glad you could make it and that you’re wearing sensible shoes this time.” He winked and took a step back. “I’d better get going and get this service started or we’ll be here well past lunch and the congregation gets grumpy if that happens.” He turned to head to the pulpit, quickly shaking a couple more hands on his way up.

Lucinda looked at her. “You two have met before?”

“He was at the accident the other night. He kept me from falling on the ice.”

“He’s unmarried,” Lucinda said as she sat.

Gladwynn scowled. “Grandma, really? We’re in church.”

“Don’t get all excited. I’m not talking about him for you. He’s already got someone he’s courting, shall we say? The new young library director. They’re so cute together. Her name is Summer. Like the season. That’s a thing anymore, to name your children after seasons and flowers.”

“Weren’t there like a thousand girls named Rose or Daisy when you were growing up? It’s not that new of a trend.”

“I suppose that’s a point.”

Gladwynn watched with interest as several people stepped on stage, including someone who slid behind a clear plastic enclosure at a drum set. One man picked up a guitar and another a bass while a man with his hair in a ponytail sat at the piano.

This was different from when her grandfather had been the pastor. Back then, there had been a pianist who also doubled as an organist and maybe someone with an acoustic guitar.

Luke welcomed everyone with his lilting accent and his charming smile. Then the music began. Gladwynn couldn’t wait to ask Lucinda how someone with an accent like him had ended up in little Brookstone.

Gladwynn had a hard time not thinking of a British sitcom she’d watched as Luke gave the sermon but did her best to focus on his message and not his linguistics. She glanced around the sanctuary to see if she recognized anyone from when she used to visit in the summer. She didn’t, but she did recognize two of the firefighters she’d seen at the accident and Justin, the fire chief. Next to Justin was a blond woman with her hair pulled back in a long braid, and next to her was a line of children. Gladwynn counted five of them.

When the sermon was over, she stood with Lucinda, realizing quickly that getting out of the church was going to take a long time. They were stopped every few seconds by someone who wanted to hug Lucinda or tell her about their new grandchild or update her on how a family member they’d been praying for was doing. Each time they were stopped, Lucinda would introduce Gladwynn, which required smiling and a level of extrovert behavior she was not accustomed to.

There was something much different about forcing herself to talk to someone to gather information from them for a story than talking to someone for no other reason than chit-chatting. The one she got paid for and could push herself through. The other was excruciatingly uncomfortable and it made her want to run home and bury herself under a quilt.

She pushed through for the sake of Lucinda, though, imagining that running screaming from the sanctuary would definitely create a scene that wouldn’t be easy for either of their reputations to recover from.

Half an hour later, the warm sun was her reward for her resilience. Standing on the top step outside the church, she breathed in deeply and enjoyed the warmth for a brief second until her brain kicked into gear and alerted her that the air was still cold and stinging any skin exposed, especially her cheeks.

Lucinda leaned close to her, pulling on a pair of gloves. “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited Pastor Callahan over for lunch today.”

Gladwynn looked over her shoulder, confused. “When? While we were in there? I never saw you talk to him.”

Lucinda started down the steps. “I asked him when you rushed off to the bathroom. You know, the moment your social barometer got too high.”

Her grandmother really did know her better than almost anyone.

“That meter is still a bit full,” she said as she walked down the steps. “I hope I can muster up some more outgoing personality this afternoon.”

Lucinda patted her on the back. “Oh, you’ll be fine. Just pretend you’re interviewing him for the paper.”

Gladwynn may have taken her grandmother a little too literally an hour later when she found herself sitting across from Pastor Blue Eyes with A Captivating Irish Accent and asked him what part of Ireland he was from and how he’d come to live in Brookstone.

“I’m from Northern Ireland, actually. Grew up in a little town just outside Belfast. My family moved to southern Pennsylvania when I was in high school. My father had family living outside of Philadelphia and after he lost his job as a worker in the local factory, his cousin offered him a job at his construction company. I finished my high school career here, and moved back to Northern Ireland for a time to figure out what my calling in life was. Then when I felt like God was telling me to go into the ministry, I returned to the States to attend seminary.”

“And to also volunteer for local fire departments?”

He grinned. “Yes, and to volunteer for local fire departments. I like to serve whatever community I’m living in as well as I can.”

Lucinda set a bowl of mashed potatoes in the center of the table.

“Grandma, I really wish you would let me help you.”

Lucinda waved her off. “Sit. Chat. Enjoy the downtime. I’m almost done here and besides I’m making you wash the dishes later.”

“Your grandmother says you used to work at a college library,” Luke said as Lucinda disappeared back through the swinging door into the kitchen.

“Yes. For about six years. Right out of college until a few months ago.”

“And now you’re working for the Beacon.”

“Yes.”

She inwardly cringed at her apparent inability to communicate like a normal person. All she could manage to offer was the bare minimum. She’d completely lost the art of conversation somewhere over the years.

“Before I went into the seminary, I thought about going into journalism, actually. I guess we are both in the people business, though. In different ways.”

Gladwynn laughed. “Yes, definitely in different ways.”

Was that all she could say? Good grief. This was so embarrassing.

She cleared her throat, desperate to not be so awkward. “And how long have you been with the church?”

He flashed a broad smile, his teeth so white and perfect it was a little unsettling. “About three years, but in some ways, it feels longer. Not for a bad reason, but because I feel like I’ve always been here in some ways. You ever hear people say that when they moved somewhere it just felt like home? That’s how this county has been for me. The hillsides even remind me of Northern Ireland.”

She knew exactly what he was talking about. Coming back to Brookstone had felt a lot like coming home for her too.

Lucinda came in with the platter full of roast and carrots and set it in the center of the table before finally sitting. Gladwynn was relieved someone else could help carry on the conversation.

Lucinda did carry it on too, asking him what was needed for an upcoming potluck and what she should bring for the Easter breakfast, how his parents were doing (because she’d so enjoyed their company when they came to visit last summer), if he’d enjoyed his fishing trip to Canada (did he catch any bass?), and if he’d like some more seeds for his garden (because he’d come to her with questions about what he should plant).

Gladwynn’s head was spinning by the time dinner was finished and though she’d enjoyed the company and the conversation, she was ready for a long nap. Lucinda, however, suggested they sit in the sunroom for some dessert and coffee.

Luke gravitated toward the combination record and CD player Gladwynn had brought with her. The records she brought were stacked underneath it in a record holder. Luke stooped to look through them, his face lighting up as he pulled out an album by jazz duo Rachael and Vilray.

“I’ve heard these guys are great. Do you listen to them?”

Gladwynn sat sideways in the chair, hanging her legs over the arms briefly until she remembered she was wearing a skirt. She quickly sat up with her legs over the front of the chair at the exact moment Luke turned around with the record in his hand.

“Yes, actually.” She winked. “That’s why it’s there.”

Gladwynn noticed immediately that her teasing comment had thrown off his usual confidence.

Red flushed along his cheeks. “Of course. I don’t know why I asked that.” He pointed at the record player. “May I?”

Gladwynn gestured toward the player. “Help yourself.”

Lucinda came in with a tray filled with plates of apple pie and cups of coffee. She sat it down on a small table as a smooth melody filtered through the speakers.

Luke was smiling as he sat on a wicker chair across from Gladwynn. “When I was growing up in Northern Ireland, there was this little record store in our little town that had imported a bunch of records from the States. They had a record player for sale, and I saved up to get it by working on a neighbor’s farm. I shoveled a lot of manure for that record player while everyone else was saving up for MP3 players. The first album I bought after I got it was Miles Davis’s Kind of Blue. I played that album until it warped.”

Gladwynn shared with him her love for that same album and for Harry Connick Jr. as well as any music from the 1940s through the 1960s. He asked her if she also liked movies from the 40s.

“And from the ‘30s and ‘50s as well,” she answered. “Just about anything that’s in black and white.”

“Who’s your favorite actor from those days of black-and-white movies?”

Gladwynn pushed a hand through her hair and laughed softly. “That’s like being asked to pick a favorite child–if I were a mother. I mean, I absolutely love Bogart, of course, but for looks, I’d go with either Clark Gable or Cary Grant.”

Luke scoffed. “Eh, Gable. So overrated. What about the women?”

“Lauren Bacall, Myrna Loy, and Katharine Hepburn.”

Gladwynn glanced at her grandmother as Luke listed off his favorite actresses, then asked her about what movies she had or hadn’t seen.

Lucinda was sipping from a flower-covered teacup, a small smirk pulling at her mouth. It was an expression Gladwynn didn’t appreciate at all.

She set her own teacup down and cleared her throat. “I really hate to be rude, but I have a couple of things I need to do to get ready for work tomorrow.” She stood. “It was so nice meeting you, Pastor Callahan.”

He stood quickly. “It was nice to meet you as well and please, call me Luke. I should be going too. I have a meeting with the board tomorrow afternoon and I have some paperwork I need to put together for them.” He looked at Lucinda. “Thank you so much for the invite. It was very nice not to have to eat my burned cooking today.”

Lucinda laughed and shook her head. “Oh, I’m sure you don’t burn everything, but I was glad to offer you a homecooked meal.”

Gladwynn gestured toward the front door. “Let me walk you to the door.”

After she and Luke had said their perfunctory goodbyes, complete with him saying he hoped he would see her again in church next Sunday, she returned to the sunroom with a deep scowl. She cocked one leg out to the side and folded her arms across her chest.

“What was that smirk all about?”

Lucinda looked up innocently as she finished her tea. “Smirk? What do you mean?”

“I saw you smirk when Luke and I were talking. I thought you said you weren’t trying to fix me up with your pastor.”

Lucinda stood and gathered the cups. “I don’t remember having any such conversation with you. All I said was he was unmarried and that he had been seen courting Summer Bloomfield.”

Summer Bloomfield? That was her full name?

“Which implies that he’s already taken and that the former pastor’s wife shouldn’t be trying to set her granddaughter up with him.”

Lucinda straightened, holding the tray. “Gladwynn Grant, you certainly do like to accuse me of the strangest things. I invited my pastor here simply to be kind. I had no idea that you and he would hit it off so well. Now why don’t you go on and do whatever you claimed you had to do to get ready for work tomorrow and I’ll clean up.” She continued toward the kitchen, pausing briefly to look over her shoulder and offer a sweet smile.

Gladwynn rubbed her hand across her forehead and down her cheek. “Oh, Lucinda Grant. Whatever am I going to do with you?”

Chapter 10

The more she thought about it, the more Gladwynn began to wonder if someone really had messed with Ellory Brooks’ car that night.

If so, why?

She couldn’t imagine that people did stuff like that in real life. Those kinds of things were reserved for movies and books.

Stirring honey into her tea, she wondered if there was any connection to Ellory’s accident and the threats that Daryl had received. She couldn’t see any way the two incidents would be related, but the possibility was there. He had let her see the letter before she’d written the story and thankfully, the visit had been brief after she’d been interrupted by a phone call from the children’s librarian looking for a photo of story hour the next day.

The letter had been typed with no signature, which didn’t offer much clue as to the author of it. It had even been mailed from out of the area.

She’d made a copy of it and slid it in her filing cabinet in a folder marked Birchwood.

Daryl:

You’re not very good at keeping promises, are you?

You made a promise you couldn’t keep and now you’ll pay.

Sell that property to the development company and you’ll pay an even higher price.

You’re being watched.

Thinking of the story she’d written about the letter made her think about what she’d overheard Vince Giordano saying the other day about the story being completely inaccurate. Which story did he mean and what did he mean by “inaccurate”? That bothered her because she’d co-written the first story with Laurel after attending the meeting and the second one by herself. If he’d had an issue with either story, he could have contacted her or Laurel and let them know.

Gladwynn rolled her chair behind Laurel’s and dropped her voice to a whisper. “I’m thinking about bypassing the police and asking Ellory Brooks herself about the accident. What do you think?”

Laurel swiveled her chair around, sliding a pencil behind her ear. “Go for it. Is she still in the hospital? If she’s not in the ICU, I’m sure you can get in. If she says she doesn’t know what she was talking about, she was looped out of her head, or she doesn’t really know, then at least you tried.”

Gladwynn knew she should probably run her idea behind Liam before pursuing it, but she didn’t want to get his hopes up. There might be nothing to the story and she might as well find out now. He’d already told her he wanted a story about Ellory’s husband’s accusations and if she couldn’t get it from the state police, she’d have to find another way.

She had a feeling Ellory, or at least Ellory’s husband would be more than willing to talk to her. If her husband called the editor of the local newspaper, it was clear he wanted the situation to be brought to light.

Brookstone Memorial was a one-story building on the upper end of town. It had been built a few years ago but it was still one of the smallest hospitals that Gladwynn had ever seen.

The receptionist at the front desk asked if she was family when she asked to see Ellory. After she said she wasn’t, the woman said she’d call the room before allowing her to go back.

“Mr. Brooks said to send you back,” the woman said a few minutes later. “She’s in room 123.”

A short man with light brown hair swept over a possible bald spot met her in the hallway. “Miss Grant, I’m Marvin Brooks, Ellory’s husband. She’s recovering, but she said she’s up to talking to you. I’m just hoping we can keep this brief, so we don’t tire her out too much. Also, maybe don’t tell her I told you I suggested we keep it brief so she doesn’t get annoyed with me.” He flashed a good-natured smile at her after the last comment.

“I can totally keep the conversation brief,” she said. “I really only have a couple of quick questions about her accident.”

Marvin motioned for her to step inside the room. “About her brakes being messed with, right?”

Gladwynn stepped past him into the room, looking over her shoulder as she walked. “Does she really think they were messed with?”

A woman’s voice answered. “Yes, I do.”

Gladwynn’s brow dipped as she looked at a small woman with graying brown hair sitting in the hospital bed. “Why do you think that?”

Ellory’s response was matter of fact. “Because my brother is our mechanic, and he had checked those brakes only two weeks ago.”

Marvin added, “This wouldn’t have happened if Ellory had taken the sedan like I told her to. That can’t happen in newer cars anymore with the way they are built. She wanted to take the Mustang, though, so –”

Ellory scoffed. “Oh, I see. I brought this on myself for wanting to drive the car that you had refurbished for me. Excuse me for being touched that you fixed the car up for me.”

Marvin sighed. “I’m just saying, it wasn’t really the best night weatherwise to be driving it, so . . .”

“So, I made a mistake.” Ellory’s voice was cold and sharp. “Do you think I should be punished for that?”

Marvin tipped his head down and cleared his throat. “Of course not, honey. I’m just frustrated with all of this and–”

Ellory’s voice softened. “I am too. You know that. I mean, who would want to damage my brakes? Even if it hadn’t been snowing that night, I might have still wrecked the car.”

Marvin looked at Gladwynn as if he just remembered she was still there. “It has something to do with Stabler’s property. I’m sure of it. There are a lot of people out in Birchwood who don’t want that land sold. They think it should go to the township for the fire hall.”

“What do you have to do with it, though?” Gladwynn asked Ellory.

“Marvin’s overthinking this. I’m the chairperson for the county planning board. Maybe people think I have more control over the decision of what is allowed at that location than I do. I’m not sure.”

Gladwynn pulled out her notebook. “And you work at the bank too, right?”

Ellory winced as she tried to push herself up straighter. “Yes, but I can’t imagine what that would have to do with anything.” She paused and touched a hand to the collar around her neck. “I did talk with someone from the developmental company about the potential sale, but it was Colleen Harris who showed the representatives the land. She’s with the county progress authority.” She laughed softly. “A lot of people say we look alike. Maybe someone mixed us up.”

Gladwynn looked up from her notepad. “What are the police saying about the brakes?”

Marvin sat down in a chair next to his wife’s bed and leaned back, propping his arm on the railing. “The trooper just says they are investigating, and they’ll let us know when they know more.”

“Which trooper?”

“Trooper Tanner Kinney He’s a good guy,” Ellory said. “I’m sure he’ll look into it. His mother and I went to school together.” She leaned her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I seem to just give out of energy out of the blue some days.”

Gladwynn jotted down the trooper’s name, even though she knew who he was and that he’d most likely not give her much information – the same way he had the last two times she’d tried to speak to him. “I’m sure you do after all you’ve been through. I should go and let you rest.”

She closed her notebook and stood. “I hope you feel better soon.”

Ellory opened her eyes again, her eyelids heavy. “What are you doing to do with this information?”

That was a very good question. “I don’t know yet, honestly. I’ll run it by my editor and see what he says we should do with this.” She slid her pen into her coat pocket. “Right now, we don’t have proof that anything criminal happened, but I’ll see what else I can find out.”

Back in the car, she thought about Ellory’s question. What was she going to do with the information, even if Liam approved of her using it? She couldn’t run with a story without proof.

For right now, she’d better sit on the information and see what else she learned by talking to a few more people, including Colleen Harris.