Sunday Bookend: Our pain-in-the-butt cat uses up another life and enjoying a variety of books

It’s time for our Sunday morning chat. On Sundays, I ramble about what’s been going on, what the rest of the family and I have been reading and watchingand what I’ve been writing. Some weeks I share what I am listening to.

Our cat Scout was missing yesterday so I was not in a very perky the entire day.

We hadn’t seen her since Friday morning. We do let our cats outside but they usually come  back several times throughout the day, and in the case of our oldest cat at least, don’t go very far.

I hadn’t been able to mentally function much since Friday night when it was pouring rain and she still hadn’t come back. I was sure she’d been hit or kidnapped. She could have been locked in one of the neighbor’s sheds too. They were all mowing their lawns before the rain came. I held out hope that she’d be home Saturday morning when one of them opened a shed or barn door.

Saturday morning came and still no sign of her.

I spent all day Saturday crying, but I knew it wasn’t just over the cat – it was over all the stuff that’s been going on with my parents and my health all combined. It was mainly the cat because I pictured her dead over the banks, I suppose, but the built-up tension from trying to figure out some weird symptoms I’ve been having and the challenge to get into a doctor and the challenge to fake it to everyone around me has been overwhelming me lately.

I just kept shoving it all inside and trying to pretend everything was fine and it just came to a head yesterday because I thought the cat was dead.

Saturday night I headed to bed around 11:30, resolved to the fact our cat — the biggest pain in the butt cat I’ve ever had in my life — was gone. I don’t know why I even did it, but I walked to our blanket closet in the hallway, as if giving it one last look, even though I was sure my husband and son had already thought to do so over the  last couple of days, and I opened it.

There was a soft trill, and then a cat jumped out at me.

I was in total shock. I just started yelling, “Oh my gosh! She’s alive!”

The kids came running while the cat, probably startled as much as I was, took off for the food downstairs.

During the day I had been thinking about how much I would miss her. I would miss her touching her nose to mine when she came into my room at 5 or 6 a.m. for cuddles (I don’t actually enjoy being woke up that early, but I would now miss it, I had decided). I would miss her touching her nose to mine when she jumped up on the counter and waited for me to give her a snack of turkey deli meat when she came in from exploring outside at the end of the day.

Touching her nose to mine is something Scout has done since she was a tiny kitten, and she’d sleep on my chest.

After she grabbed some food and water, she ran back up the stairs, overwhelmed by everyone screaming over her and the dog excitedly sniffing and chasing her (I’m sure our older cat Pixel was simply glaring at her as she’d probably hoped she’d died somewhere so she could have all the attention again). I went up to finish getting ready for bed and she was standing on the window sill at the top of the stairs. She trilled at me and then she stretched her neck out toward me. When we were face-to-face she touched her nose to mine and I cried again and did something I almost never do to a cat — I kissed her forehead.

Then I wiped the fur away. Yuck. That’s why I don’t do that.

This cat definitely has nine lives. She’s the same cat that climbed and then fell out of a tree when we first got her. She lay on her side at the bottom of the tree panting and we thought she’d broken her spine and was dying. Thirty-seconds later she jumped up and took off running..

A few months later she climbed a larger tree in front of our house and was trapped there a day and a night and finally the town’s lovely fire department came and rescued her in dramatic fashion with their ladder truck. Just like in the movies.

In addition to having nine lives, the cat is also notorious for embarrassing me. That time it was the fire company rescuing her and yesterday our son went up and down the street asking all the neighbors to watch for her. Now we have to tell all of them she was in our linen closet the entire time and that we are sort of morons for not checking it and she’s sort of a moron for going into in the first place.

Last night I finished The Wishing Well by Mildred Wirt. It is a Penny Parker Mystery. I actually enjoyed it more than some of the Nancy Drew Mysteries because Mildred’s wit and humor comes through so clearly and Harriet Adams took a lot of that out when she wrote the Nancy Drew books that Mildred had written.

I might have to agree with Mildren when she once said that Penny was more Nancy Drew than Nancy was.

She is a lot more mouthy and pushy, but in a well-meaning way, than Nancy was even.

I am still reading Mansfield Park by Jane Austen, one chapter a day, but I didn’t read it much this week because I lost my paperback of it and then found it late last night. I did download an ebook copy to my Kindle too in case this happens again (which it will. I’m always laying my books down somewhere and losing them).

I am also continuing All Things Wise and Wonderful by James Herriott and will most likely finish that this week.

I plan to start The Inimitable Jeeves by P.G. Woodhouse this week and soon I will start Summer of Yes by Courtney Walsh (a fun summer romance) and ‘Tis Herself by Maureen O’Hara.

This week I watched a couple of older movies with two of the original Dames.

I watched The Assassination Bureau with a young Diana Riggs. That was — um, interesting. Quite goofy with a lot of sexual tension between her and Oliver Reed.

Then I watched The Honey Pot with a young Maggie Smith and Rex Harrison. This was another interesting one with an odd plot. A rich man pretends to be dying and invites his three former mistresses to his home to see which one of them is worthy of his inheritance.

Maggie portrays a nurse of one of the mistresses.

Rex is in his usual, witty form in this one.

I wasn’t sure what to expect of the film when I started it and when it got serious, Maggie really stepped up her acting game. That was enjoyable.

I also watched Ludwig, a mystery with David Mitchell, on Britbox. I really enjoyed the first episode.

Of course, I watched Just A Few Acres Farm on YouTube and will watch it again because I was interrupted during it. He was restoring a Farmall tractor. Who knew one day I’d be fascinated with watching a man restore an old farm tractor…

I’ve decided that I am going to have a Summer of Angela and watch Angela Lansbury movies. I’m going to sort of do it on my own but if anyone wants to join me, they/you are welcome.

Last week on the blog I shared

What have you been doing, watching, reading, listening to, or writing? Let me know in the comments or leave a blog post link if you also write a weekly update like this.


This post is linked up with The Sunday Post at  Kimba at Caffeinated Reviewer, The Sunday Salon with Deb at Readerbuzz, and Book Date: It’s Monday! What are you reading hosted by Kathyrn at The Book Date.


Lisa R. Howeler is a blogger, homeschool mom, and writes cozy mysteries.

You can find her Gladwynn Grant Mystery series HERE.

You can also find her on Instagram and YouTube.

Sunday Bookends: Cold weather (still), planned reads for February, and a lot of Edwardian Farm

Last week was very cold and I chatted about it a bit on my Saturday Afternoon Chat yesterday, if you’d like to go read that.

Today is a day of relaxing and taking part in the Crafternoon zoom event with some other ladies and Erin from Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs. We are going to do crafts and chat on Zoom. It should be fun.

I am still reading the same books but have added Frankenstein which I will start this week to read with The Boy for school. I had planned to start reading it last week but got caught up in Christy and Bourdain: The Definitive Oral Biography by Laurie Woolever. I won’t lie — I am probably going to listen to Frankenstein on Audible with Dan Stevens narrating it. I’ve already listened to about five minutes and after seeing him in The Man Who Invented Christmas, I know he can pull off the voices and intonation needed for the story.

In February I hope to read more of Little Men by Louisa Mae Alcott, The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman, and The Sign of the Twisted Candles by Carolyn Keene.

The Husband is reading a book by Nelson Demille that I forgot the name of.

Little Miss is reading Harry Potter: The Prisoner of Azkaban.

Last week I watched Gunga Din. Yeah…so that was interesting … and I blogged about it. I also watched a lot of Edwardian Farm and an episode of All Creatures Great and Small (the newer ones).

I am getting ready to release Gladwynn Grant Shakes The Family Tree, the third book in my cozy mystery series February 19 (or maybe sooner). If you want to know more about it or pre-order an ebook copy, you can click HERE.

This Friday I will also start sharing a serial version of the first book in the series Gladwynn Grant Gets Her Footing. Blog readers can follow along each week or choose to purchase the book instead on Amazon.

This week on the blog I shared:

I also wanted to mention that I share photos, memes, reels, and other things on Instagram if you would like to follow me there.



I also started a YouTube channel where I share shorts only for similar content (books, writing, cozy mysteries) and you can find that here: https://youtube.com/@goodbooksandtea?si=xbn6zYq0rnAT9Uj7

Now It’s Your Turn!

What are you reading, watching, writing, doing, listening to …. Etc. etc. I’d love to know. Let me know in the comments.


This post is linked up with The Sunday Post at  Kimba at Caffeinated Reviewer, Stacking the Shelves with Reading Reality, The Sunday Salon with Deb at Readerbuzz, and Book Date: It’s Monday! What are you reading hosted by Kathyrn at The Book Date.

Sunday Bookends: Winter temps have set in, The Spectacular, getting ready for Christmas movies

It’s time for our Sunday morning chat. On Sundays, I ramble about what’s been going on, what the rest of the family and I have been reading and watching, and what I’ve been writing. Some weeks I share what I am listening to.

This week I’m joining up with Kimba at Caffeinated Reviewer and Kathyrn at The Book Date.


What I/we’ve been Reading

This week I am continuing to read chapters before bed of Little Women. It’s such a cozy read.

I’m also reading The Spectacular by Fiona Davis. It is a mystery.

A description in case you are curious:

From the New York Times Bestselling Author of The Magnolia Palace: A thrilling story about love, sacrifice, and the pursuit of dreams, set amidst the glamour and glitz of Radio City Music Hall in its mid-century heyday.

New York City, 1956: Nineteen-year-old Marion Brooks knows she should be happy. Her high school sweetheart is about to propose and sweep her off to the life everyone has always expected they’d have together: a quiet house in the suburbs, Marion staying home to raise their future children. But instead, Marion finds herself feeling trapped. So when she comes across an opportunity to audition for the famous Radio City Rockettes—the glamorous precision-dancing troupe—she jumps at the chance to exchange her predictable future for the dazzling life of a performer. 

Meanwhile, the city is reeling from a string of bombings orchestrated by a person the press has nicknamed the “Big Apple Bomber,” who has been terrorizing the citizens of New York for sixteen years by planting bombs in popular, crowded spaces. With the public in an uproar over the lack of any real leads after a yearslong manhunt, the police turn in desperation to Peter Griggs, a young doctor at a local mental hospital who espouses a radical new technique: psychological profiling. 

As both Marion and Peter find themselves unexpectedly pulled in to the police search for the bomber, Marion realizes that as much as she’s been training herself to blend in—performing in perfect unison with all the other identical Rockettes—if she hopes to catch the bomber, she’ll need to stand out and take a terrifying risk. In doing so, she may be forced to sacrifice everything she’s worked for, as well as the people she loves the most.

The Boy and I will be starting A Tale of Two Cities this week and I really hope I can make it through the old language because sometimes I am confused by it. Just being honest. I enjoy classic literature but sometimes the metaphors and allegory, etc. totally throw me off and I have to re-read a sentence more than once. I wouldn’t consider myself stupid (some might) but I don’t read classics all the time so it doesn’t come as easily for me as some. 

The Husband finished an ARC of the next Joe Picket book and recently started another Fiona Davis book.

Little Miss and I will probably finish The Black Stallion this week and I’m not yet sure what we will read next. We are reading a book about a Native American girl for school but I can’t find it and forgot the name of it.

What’s Been Occurring

Cold temperatures are becoming the norm now as we move into winter, which means lighting or keeping the fire going in the woodstove is also becoming the norm. It also means that hot cocoa and hot tea are the norm.

I am very lucky that I have a husband who makes amazing tea for me with just the right amount of honey and a daughter who makes me the most amazing hot cocoa with just the right amount of maple syrup.

Those have been my treats to warm me up this week.

Last week was a relaxed week with the Thanksgiving holiday.

Monday we will be back doing schoolwork and back to Kid’s Club at the church and gymnastics for Little Miss. The Boy has an extra day off trade school, but goes back on Tuesday.

Photos from Last Week

Here are a few photos from our Thanksgiving.

What We watched/are Watching

I started watching Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman last week. It’s been fun to go back because I don’t remember most of the episodes or what happened, even though I watched them during junior high and high school.

We also watched some episodes of Doctor Who this week and the 60th anniversary special, which I don’t want to talk about. Ever. I’m not kidding.

I’ll stick with the old episodes.

Little Miss and I watched the first Paddington movie since we have been reading Paddington books off and on during the week.

This week I’ll be watching a couple of Christmas-themed movies or shows as Erin from Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs get read for Cozy Christmas, which you can find out more about in her post here:

https://crackercrumblife.com/2023/11/24/comfy-cozy-christmas/

I’ll be posting my own separate post about this later this week as well.


What I’m Writing

I’m working on Cassie this weekend and will be this upcoming week after finishing preparations to release Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage next Tuesday.

On the blog this week I shared:

What I’m Listening To

This week I listened to Needtobreathe’s new album The Cave.

Now it’s your turn. What have you been doing, watching, reading, listening to or writing? Let me know in the comments or leave a blog post link if you also write a weekly update like this.

Sunday Bookends: Driving my husband’s big truck, editing Gladwynn’s second book, and started reading Little Women for first time




It’s time for our Sunday morning chat. On Sundays, I ramble about what’s been going on, what the rest of the family and I have been reading and watching, and what I’ve been writing. Some weeks I share what I am listening to.

This week I’m joining up with Kimba at Caffeinated Reviewer and Kathyrn at The Book Date.

Affiliate disclosure: Today’s post may contain an affiliate link, which could provide a small commission to me as a blogger.

What’s Been Occurring

I wrote about what I’ve been doing in my Saturday Afternoon Chat post yesterday. You can read that HERE.

When I wrote my post yesterday, I said I hadn’t left the house all week. That wasn’t exactly true. I left it on Monday when my son said he needed a ride from his bus stop and I remember this because I had to drive my husband’s gigantic Chevy Avalanche down the hill to the convenience store downtown where the bus dropped my son off.

I have not tried to drive his truck yet because it is very tall and very big and I am not a tall person. I am always afraid to drive it because I can’t see over the front very well and I feel like I will run over something or, worse yet, someone.

But my son needed me so I took off, after figuring out how to adjust the seat, and headed down the hill. When I got to where he was supposed to be, though, he wasn’t there. I called him and he said he’d texted me that he was going to walk up the hill so I didn’t have to drive the truck and he was on our street. I found out later that he’d never actually sent that text so I’d had no idea.

Since I was already down the hill in town, I decided to go to the little supermarket we have and pick up the flour I needed for dinner, but I was terrified the whole time I might hit a car or person while I was driving.

When I got back to the house, I texted my husband and told him about my journey and how nervous I was. His only response? “Is my truck okay?”

I said, “Thanks for worrying if I was okay.”

He texted back, “Oh, right. Are you okay?”

I said, “I was worried I was going to hit something or someone the entire time.”

Him: “Don’t worry about it. You’re in a truck. It’s like a bug on a windshield.”

I said, “Not if I hit an older lady!”

Him: “She’ll bounce back.”

Anyhow, I won’t be driving that truck again unless absolutely necessary.

What I/we’ve been Reading

I finished The Hidden Staircase, a Nancy Drew Mystery, by Carolyn Keene yesterday.

This week I will finish Walls Crumbling by Alicia Gilliam. It’s so good. I love her writing.

I also started Little Women for my cozy winter read and I’m really enjoying it so far.

The Husband is choosing a new book because he just finished a Joe Pickett novel.

Little Miss and I are reading The Black Stallion on some nights and Paddington others and also listening to Fortunately the Milk by Neil Gaiman because she really loves that book.

The Boy isn’t reading anything right now but we will be reading something historically related soon for school.

What We watched/are Watching

This past week we watched Tea With The Dames for Erin (Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs) and my Comfy, Cozy Cinema. We really enjoyed it. I shared a short clip and talked about it on Instagram and that clip went viral – why? No idea but I think everyone just needs a dose of happiness right now. The documentary about Judi Dench, Maggie Smith, Joan Plowright, and Eileen Atkins, is available on Tubi for free or on other streaming devices for a rental fee. You can find it on Amazon HERE.

I also watched Forgotten Way Farms videos as a way to relax. Here is her latest:

I am looking forward to when All Creatures Great and Small’s fourth season starts airing in the U.S. I read online that that will be January 7, so not too much longer. Until then I will catch up on Miss Scarlet and the Duke this week.


What I’m Writing

I am editing Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage so I can release it on December 4. If you want to pre-order it, you can find it HERE.

A description? Why, yes, I can provide you with that:

More mystery, intrigue, and loveable characters in Brookstone, Pa.

Gladwynn Grant hasn’t been living in Brookstone, Pa. very long but already she’s been mixed up in two attempted murders and the aftermath of a jewel theft.

Just when she thinks life has settled down and her new job as a small-town reporter will begin to be routine again, the recreational director at the local retirement community is found dead.

Was Samantha Mors death an accident, or was it murder?

Since she was the second person to discover her body, Gladwynn wants to find out what really happened.

Local State Police Detective Tanner Kinney lets her know that her job is reporting the news, not investigating a possibly suspicious death. The father she barely speaks to stops for a visit and also urges her to not get involved.

When warnings to stay away from the case come from handsome pastor Luke Callahan Gladwynn wonders if he knew the victim better than he is letting on.

Quieting her inner sleuth will prove difficult for Gladwynn, though, especially when her eccentric grandmother Lucinda tags along to help her solve the case.

I am also writing Cassie, which will release in August of 2024. I will share more about that as it gets closer to the release date but I have shared a little bit about it here already. It is part of a multi-author project, which you can learn more about in our Facebook group HERE.

The first book in that project, Polly, comes out January 15 and it is available for pre-order now. You can pre-order Polly HERE.

This week on the blog I shared:

What I’m Listening To

This week I will be listening to the end of an audio book: Death Beside the Seaside by T.E. Kinsey and the new Needtobreathe album.

Now it’s your turn. What have you been doing, watching, reading, listening to or writing? Let me know in the comments or leave a blog post link if you also write a weekly update like this.

Fiction Friday: Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage Chapter 14 and 15

As always, this is a work in progress and there could be (will be) typos, plot holes, and other errors but those will be fixed before the book is published a couple of months from now.

If you want to read the first book in the series, you can find it on Amazon HERE.

If you don’t want to read this story in chapters on a blog and would rather read the fully-finished and polished version, you can pre-order it HERE.

Chapter 14

She drove back to the house slowly, knowing she should call Tanner. He needed to know what she’d overheard in the bathroom, but he also needed to know about the missing button on Luke’s coat.

She didn’t want to tell him about the missing button though. She couldn’t.

Not until she’d talked to Luke first.

As for the conversation between the woman, she would pass that information on at least. It probably wouldn’t help at all, but at least it would offer proof that the family knew Samantha was Derek’s daughter. She wondered if Tanner had figured that out yet.

She considered a stop at Brewed Awakening for a cup of coffee but couldn’t face seeing Abbie right now. The intuitive mother would know something was wrong and would do her best to drag it out of her. There was no way she could tell Abbie that one of the town’s beloved pastors might be a murderer.

To her right she noticed a woman walking slowly, looking at the sidewalk, her shoulders sagging. She looked how Gladwynn felt.

As the car began to pass the woman, Gladwynn realized it was Eileen and that she was crying. She didn’t feel like she had the mental or emotional energy to comfort Eileen, but she pulled the car slowly into a parking space in front of the park in the center of town anyhow.

The recently painted gazebo stood in the center of a myriad of sidewalk paths, benches, light poles and a variety of types of trees. Gladwynn watched as Eileen walked up the steps of the gazebo and sat down, placing her head in her hands.

In some ways Gladwynn felt she needed to leave the woman alone, but another part nudged her to go talk to the woman, not only to comfort her, but learn more about what she knew, or didn’t know about Samantha. She closed the driver’s side door gingerly and made her way across the grass to avoid letting her heels click on the concrete and alerting Eileen to her presence. That couldn’t be avoided as she made her way up the steps of the gazebo, though.

Eileen looked up sharply, her eyes red and swollen. She sniffed loudly, her eyes narrowing. “What are you doing here? I don’t want to talk to the media.”

“I’m not here to talk to you for the paper. I saw you walking here and looking upset and I wanted to see if you were okay.”

Eileen glared, hands gripping the bottom of the bench she was sitting on, her straight, long hair falling loose around her face. “No you didn’t. You want to know what I know about Samantha and the day she died.”

Straight and to the point as always, but she was right. Gladwynn walked over slowly and sat next to her, tilting her knees in Eileen’s direction, her hands folded on her lap. “You’re right. I do want to know what you know about Samantha. She was a good friend to a lot of people and I want to know what happened to her. I have a feeling you’d like to know what happened to her too.”

Eileen let go of the grip she’d had on the bench, her knuckles white. She reached inside a small purse for a tissue. “I do want to know but telling you what I know about Sam won’t help anything. I don’t know who did this to her. I have ideas, but I don’t know for sure.”

“You and Sam were closer than you’ve let on weren’t you?”

Eileen nodded as she blew her nose, her voice breaking. “Yes. We became friends shortly after she moved here and grew closer in the last several months.”

“And you knew Derek well too?”

Eileen continued to cry, looking down at the hardwood floor of the gazebo. “Yes. He was a good man.”

Gladwynn decided to go for it and reveal her theory. “So you knew they were father and daughter?”

Eileen looked up quickly, tissue to her nose. “How did you know?”

There it was. Another confirmation.

“I guessed. They hung out a lot. Samantha had moved here not long after Derek did. A few other things tipped me off too.”

That really wasn’t a lot to go on to guess the two were related, but Gladwynn didn’t want to reveal what she’d read in the letter or what she’d heard in the bathroom. “When did they tell you?”

Eileen crumpled the tissue, shoved it in her purse and reached for another one. “We’d been hanging out a lot, watching movies together and playing cards. I came over early one night with a special cake I’d made and overheard Samantha asking Derek if he’d told his children yet that she was his daughter. I was shocked. I just stood there on the back patio with the cake, unable to move. Sam saw me standing there, assumed I had heard them talking and told me to come in. They talked to me and asked me not to say anything. I said I wouldn’t, of course.”

Eileen drew in a ragged breath. “Derek’s death had seemed natural, but after Samantha died – I don’t know. I just feel like it’s too much of a coincidence that they died so close together. I wasn’t surprised at all when the police said Samantha’s death was suspicious.”

Gladwynn leaned forward slightly. “Maybe I shouldn’t ask but was a cause of death ever determined for Derek?”

“I couldn’t tell you. I called the coroner and the funeral home to come after he died but the family handled things after that.”

“You had a number for the family?”

“Yes, Derek had given me his contact information but I didn’t recognize the last name.” She shrugged. “I’m not really up on billionaire hotel owning families.”

Gladwynn laughed softly. “Yeah. Me either.”

Eillen shrugged a shoulder. “It wasn’t until I found out about Sam and Derek that they told me who Derek was.”

Gladwynn hesitated to ask the next question, but in the end decided Eileen could simply decline to answer if it was over the line. “Who found Derek?”

Eileen’s expression crumpled. “Me. I went over to take him the coffee I’d ordered him from a specialty place in Italy.” She closed her eyes as if to block out the memory. “He didn’t answer but the back door was unlocked so I let myself inside. I called for him and then I went to look for him in his room. The door was open and he was in bed, peacefully sleeping. Or so I thought. It wasn’t until I got closer that I realized he was gone.”

She pressed her face into her hands and began to sob. Gladwynn’s chest tightened. The woman hadn’t been standoffish or rude all this time after all. She was simply a grieving, traumatized woman.

Gladwynn reached out and laid a hand against her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Eileen. You’ve been through a lot the last couple of weeks. Do you have anyone close to you who you can talk to?”

Eileen shook her head slowly. “No. I moved here six years ago from Florida to take this job and don’t know anyone really. Sam and Derek were my only friends.” She blew into the tissue in her hand. “That’s how Sam and I first connected. We’d both had lived in Florida.”

The postmark on the letter had been Traverse City, Michigan. Vince had said she told him she was Nebraska but had attended Ohio State. Who had this woman really been? Why did she have so many different stories about where she was originally from?  

Gladwynn squeezed Eileen’s shoulder gently. “I know we don’t know each other well, but if you need someone to talk to, I’m around.”

Eileen no longer looked like the hard woman poised to argue with anyone who spoke to her. Her guard had been let down. “Thank you.” She hooked a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s very sweet of you, but, honestly, I think I might move back to Florida after all this. I need to reconnect with my parents and siblings. We had a falling out before I moved here and we’ve stayed connected some but I really just need to go home.”

That story sounded familiar, though Gladwynn had no intention of going back to Carter anytime soon. “I understand. Until then, though. I’m here.” She paused, looking out over the park as a couple walked hand-in-hand from the direction of a small thrift store. She watched the man and women look at each other, smile and give each other a quick kiss. Pulling her gaze away, she focused on Eileen again. “Eileen, do you think Derek died of natural causes?”

Eileen shook her head slowly. “No. I really don’t. I mean, I did, but now that Sam’s been murdered and knowing what I know about Derek’s family . . . ” Her voice trailed off. She looked down at the crumpled tissues in her hands. “Sorry. I really shouldn’t talk about that.”

Gladwynn thought about what she’d heard in the bathroom. “Did Samantha ever say they threatened her?”

“No, she didn’t, but she did tell me they weren’t happy when Derek told them he’d made a change in the will to leave money for her. She was very upset he’d done that because she’d never wanted his money. She just wanted to get to know him. She hated that it looked like she’d contacted him so she could get his money.”

“Do you have any idea who would murder Sam besides someone in his family? Maybe someone who didn’t like her or someone she’d argued with?”

Eileen dabbed at the corner of her eye with the tissue. “No. Not at all. Everyone loved Sam. I can’t imagine anyone who would want to hurt her. Anyone other than Derek’s children and their spouses. They’re selfish, vindictive and bitter people. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them killed Derek too.”

Gladwynn caught a glimpse of Luke driving by and her stomach clenched again.

She focused her attention on Eileen instead. “Have you met them before? Other than your interaction with Michael the other day?”

“No, but Sam and Derek told me a lot about them. Derek was very disappointed in them.” She sniffed and opened her purse, pulling out a small container of breath mints. “He didn’t want Sam to have to deal with them after he passed away so he wrote her into the will. Also, I saw Michael here in Brookstone a couple days before Derek died. I didn’t know it was him at the time but I recognized him the day he confronted me at Willowbrook.”

“Where did you see him?”

“Coming out of Berry’s Pharmacy.”

That was an interesting bit of information. She wondered if Tanner knew it. “I wonder what he was doing here. Maybe talking to Derek? I also wonder if his family knew for sure he was going to write her into the will.”

Eileen placed one of the breath mints in her mouth. “I don’t know but it would be a very good reason for one of them to kill her if they did know, wouldn’t it? Or maybe even to kill Derek.” She took a deep breath. “I know I shouldn’t have but I sort of lied to Michael Thornton that day. I do have a waiting list and someone did want to move into the apartment, but I had Derek’s belongings placed in storage because I didn’t want anyone in that family going through all of Derek’s stuff before Samantha had a chance to look through it and take some mementos of him. They’re a bunch of vultures. That’s where I was that morning. The morning Samantha died. I was renting out space in a storage facility.”

Gladwynn stood and walked across the gazebo, looking out across the park toward the Brookstone Theatre. A few movie goers were walking through the front doors for the matinee. She turned back toward Eileen and leaned back against the railing. “Who would have been the last person to see Derek alive do you think?”

Eileen shook her head slowly, staring somewhere beyond Gladwynn’s shoulder. “I don’t know for sure. Probably Sam. She usually was the last one to leave his place or him hers. Why?”

Gladwynn pressed a hand against her forehead. “I don’t know. I guess I just wondered – I don’t know really. Just brainstorming ideas of what could have happened to him if it wasn’t natural causes.” She moved her hand from her forehead to her hair, pushing a strand back from her forehead. “What about this Mary Kendall. Who is she?”

Eileen eyed her suspiciously. “She’s Sam’s aunt. How do you know her?”

Gladwynn tipped her head down briefly before looking up again, her cheeks flushed. “I happened to see the name when Bridgett knocked some paperwork off the desk the other day when we stopped by for the key.” She held her hands up. “I promise that I wasn’t snooping on purpose.”

A small smile tugged at Eileen’s mouth. “I like how you said, ‘on purpose,’ but, really, I shouldn’t have left that paperwork out where anyone could see it. I was a little flustered that day. I pulled that information out for the police so they could notify her of Samantha’s death. Then Mr. Thornton stopped by and I had to leave.”

“Did you ever give that information to the police?”

“Yes, when I came back to the office.”

So the police already had Mary’s name and information. Then they could ask her more about Samantha’s past and the letter. 

Eileen hugged her arms around herself. “I also told them about something that happened the night of Sam’s murder, after they left. I saw someone trying to get into Sam’s condo. It was the middle of the night and I’d gotten up to get a drink of water. I saw a figure outside her door, grabbed a flashlight and my phone and headed out to find out what they were doing. They were gone by the time I got there and it looked like the door hadn’t been opened. I must have scared them off. When I turned to go back to my apartment, I saw a dark truck or SUV pulling out onto main street. I don’t know if it was related or not but I’ve been on edge ever since. I check her condo every night before I go to bed to make sure it is still locked and I also remind all our residents to do the same.”

Gladwynn’s eyes narrowed as she considered this new piece of information. “Do you have security footage of that?”

“I do. I gave it to the police as well.” She stood and smoothed her skirt down. “Thank you for checking on me, but I need to get back to the office. I had a call for a repair needed in condo number 23 before I left and have a call into a plumber. I apologize for how rude I’ve been acting lately. This has all been such a shock. That day at Sam’s I just wanted to get out of there. I couldn’t believe she was dead. My mind kept racing, worried that she might have killed herself but feeling that there was no way she would have. She was so full of life.”

Gladwynn heard her phone ringing in her purse, but ignored it. “I’m sure this all has been very hard for you. I was serious about you contacting me if you ever need to talk.”

“I may do that,” Eileen said. “Thank you.”

Gladwynn watched her walk down the steps of the gazebo and across the sidewalk to her car parked on the other side of the park. There were a lot of people who had the wrong impression of Eileen and she’d been among them before today. The cold demeanor people saw in the woman was really her way of coping with all the hurt in her life. It made sense.

Eileen’s grief was yet another reason Gladwynn hoped the police would be able to find out who killed Samantha sooner rather than later.

When she arrived home William was locked in her grandfather’s office. She knew Lucinda would be helping to clean up after the dinner at the church, which meant she had some time to relax and try to process Luke’s missing button.

She didn’t take long to think about it, though, because she needed to call Tanner and fill him on what she’d heard in the bathroom.

He’d given her his work cell phone during the Stabler investigation and she used it now to try to reach him, fully expecting to reach his voicemail.

She was surprised when he picked up.

“Detective Kinney here. How can I help you, Miss Grant?”

“Do you have my number saved in your phone?”

“I felt I should since you seem to pester me so much. Have you been busy sticking your nose in police business again?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, Detective, I have not been sticking my nose in anything. I happened to be in the right place at the right time and overheard something.”

“And where were you at when you heard this?”

“That’s not important.”

“It is if you are sharing information for a criminal investigation.”

“I was in the ladies’ room at the Brookstone Methodist Church if you must know.”

There was a brief pause, then, “You were hiding in the bathroom, spying on people?”

“No, I was using the bathroom when they came in.” Her face flushed warm. “I mean, I wasn’t actually using the bathroom. I was preparing to – let’s just change the subject. I was in the right place at the right time.”

“Or the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Either way, I overheard them talking about Samantha Mors. They said she said she was Derek Thornton’s daughter.”

“Okay, so?”

She tapped a pen on top of the kitchen table. “So, isn’t that important to your investigation? That two people who died a week apart from each other were actually father and daughter?”

“Yes, but I already knew that.”

Gladwynn sat up straighter. “How did you know?”

“Quite frankly, I don’t have to tell you how I know that, but I will anyhow, since you don’t seem to think we can do our jobs. We found a letter from Derek to Samantha in her bedside table. The letter you found was simply another confirmation of their connection. I don’t know how we missed the letter you found when we went through the apartment. I’m guessing the officer I asked to check that room didn’t pull the drawer all the way out and empty it. I’ve asked for him to be placed on administrative leave.”

“In his defense, it really was wedged up in there pretty good. I think Grandma just shook it loose when she opened the drawer fast.”

Tanner cleared his throat. “Excuse me? Grandma? I thought you found the letter and that she was just there with you.”

“Well, yeah, I mean, I think I just shook it loose –”

“Now you have your grandmother snooping around with you. Really?”

“We were looking for some scripts Samantha had at her place. I told you that. There was no snooping going on for anything other than finding the scripts we needed.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Except you just lied to me about who found the letter.

Gladwynn groaned softly. “I didn’t really lie. I just wasn’t specific about who found it. I didn’t want you to think my grandmother was snooping around.”

“But she clearly was.”

“She wasn’t! I already told you what happened.”

“Okay, while we are talking about true things, is it true you’re going to be in the play?

“Why is that important and who have you been talking to?”

Amusement tinged his words. “A little birdie told me.”

“Yes, I’m going to be in the play, but that’s really not important. Back to the women in the bathroom.”

The scratching of a pen on paper could be heard on the other side of the phone as she filled him in on the conversation between the women.

“Do you have identifications for these women?” he asked when she was done.

“I believe one was called Marjorie and one Beatrice. I don’t know the third woman’s name.”

“Did you see them?”

“I didn’t.”

“And this is supposed to help us how?”

She clutched her hand into a fist and pressed it against her mouth, biting at her finger before answering. “Tanner, I am just passing on what I heard.”

Tanner sighed. “Okay, thank you. Really. We were already planning to question Mr. Thornton, his wife, his sister and his sister-in-law so we will discuss this conversation with them.”

“Are you going to tell them who overheard it?”

“I don’t think that would be wise, no.”

“Okay, well, I just wanted to fill you in.” She took a deep breath, contemplating how to handle the situation with Luke. She just couldn’t bring herself to tell Tanner about the button.

“And I appreciate that.” Tanner’s tone softened. “I really do, Miss — Gladwynn. Thank you for filling me in and to show you my appreciation I’d like to fill you in on something as well. We found an earring in Samantha’s room. It may or not be related to this case but it was –”

“A silver hoop earring with a dangling green jewel.”

“How did you –”

“I wasn’t snooping! I saw it when I went into Samantha’s room the day I found her. I just happened to see it. I did not snoop. I promise.”

“Okay, well, we don’t think it was Samantha’s. It doesn’t match any of her other jewelry. Can you keep an eye out for anyone who wears similar jewelry. I don’t want you to do anything other than call me if you see anything suspicious, do you understand?”

Gladwynn smirked. “I certainly do.”

“Also, don’t get any ideas here. I’m not asking for your help beyond this.”

“I understand perfectly, Detective.”

“Okay. Good. Thanks for the information.”

“I do have a couple questions, though. Did you ever find Samantha’s cell phone?”

“We have not. No.”

“So you can’t find out who she was talking to that day at the lake?”

“Unfortunately we can’t, no, but hopefully we’ll get a breakthrough soon.”

She took a chance on another question, sure he’d hang up on her soon. “And what about the security footage from Willowbrook the night of her murder. Did you see anything on it?”

“How do you even –”

“The information was voluntarily shared with me. I didn’t ask for it.”

Tanner’s voice had switched the soft tone he’d had before to the harder one. “Uh-huh. Sure you didn’t. But, yes, we did see something on the footage. Someone was trying to break into the condo. Vertically challenged and slightly overweight, possibly a woman. The person was gone by the time we arrived.”

Vertically challenged? Had he really just said that?

She knew he wasn’t going to be forthcoming much longer. “Thank you for telling me that much at least. Does the person fit any of the profiles of the suspects you have?”

Tanner sighed into the phone. “Gladwynn, you really need to get another hobby and stop reading all those Agatha Christie novels. Let me know if see anything similar to the earring. Other than that, go write about the new lights in the park or something.”

Gladwynn straightened her shoulders at this news tip even if it wasn’t very exciting. “There are new lights in the park? What kind?”

“I have no idea. Call the borough. That’s their department.”

“I’ll do that, but before you go can you tell me if Samantha really had a small hole above her—”

“I think this office needs a reminder on keeping a tight lid on investigations,” Tanner grumbled. His voice softened at his next words, though. “Listen, we’ll find who did this. Tell your grandmother and her friends we are working as hard and as quickly as we can on this.”

A small smile tugged at her mouth “I will, Detective. Thank you.”

“Now go away,” he said, his voice gruff again.

She laughed as he hung up the phone.

Chapter 15

When Lucinda arrived home, it was around supper time and Gladwynn was already in the kitchen cooking up stir fry. William hadn’t left the study and Gladwynn was fine with that. She still wasn’t ready to talk to him about their conversation the other day.

Lucinda winced as she sat down at the kitchen table. She groaned softly and pushed her shoes off as she leaned back in the chair. “What are you making there, little lady? It sure smells good.”

“It smells good but we will have to see if it tastes good. You know I’m not a cook.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You made a pretty good three bean salad last week.”

Gladwynn laughed. “Grandma, I opened the can and poured it in the bowl.”

Lucinda stretched her legs out on a chair opposite her. “Well, it was still good.” She stretched her arms up over her head. “Have you seen your father today?”

“Nope.”

“And I’m sure you’re fine with that.”

“Yep.”

“So what was the real reason for you looking like you had seen a ghost today when you left the church?”

Gladwynn continued to cook, her back to Lucinda. There was no way she was going to tell her grandmother that their pastor might be a murderer.

“I overheard a weird conversation in the bathroom.”

Lucinda’s voice was full of concern. “What does that mean? What kind of weird conversation?”

Gladwynn turned around, spoon in her hand. “What would you say if I told you that I think that Derek was Samantha’s father and that what I overheard today confirms that?”

“I would say that I had that theory floating around in my mind as well. Who did you overhear talking about it?”

Gladwynn began to spoon the stir fry into a dish. “I think Derek’s daughter and daughter-in-laws but I couldn’t see them. They said Samantha said she was his daughter but they didn’t believe her and one of them said she was glad Samantha was dead so she wouldn’t get any of their money.”

Lucinda frowned as Gladwynn placed the bowl in the table and turned to pull the plates out of the cupboard. “Did you tell Tanner what you heard?”

“Yes, I called him before you came home.”

“And what did he say?

“That he will look into it.”

“Then he will. The police will figure this out.”

She sat and filled Lucinda in on her conversation with Eileen as well.

Lucinda sighed. “Poor Eileen. What a tough thing for her to deal with.” She reached over and laid her hand on Gladwynn’s. “Now, hon’ you know you can’t figure this all out on your own. Let the police do their jobs now. I want you to go upstairs and rest after dinner, okay? Take your mind off things. You finish setting the table and I’ll go tell your father dinner is ready.”

When she did go upstairs later, though, Gladwynn couldn’t rest. Her mind kept going back to her conversation with Luke, to that missing button on his suit coat.

She rolled over on the bed and sent a text to Laurel to try to stop thinking about the theories of why the button had been in Samantha’s room.

Have you asked Lance why he didn’t sign the papers?

Laurel: He said he thought he signed everything and told me to have my lawyer send it back to his lawyer

Gladwynn: Then it will be final?

Laurel: Yes, technically, but really, it’s already been signed off by the judge so it is final.

Gladwynn: And you’re sure you want it final?

Laurel: Gladwynn. Stop. Yes. I want it final. This isn’t a Hallmark movie. We aren’t getting back together.

Gladwynn: I understand, but if you change your mind, you know it would be okay to admit you made the wrong decision.

Laurel: Anything new on the Mors case?

Gladwynn: Maybe. I’ll fill you in later. I’ve passed it on to Tanner and I’m not sure how much to share yet.

Laurel: Fill me in when you can. Back to the grindstone for me. See you tomorrow.

Gladwynn rolled on her back and stared at the ceiling for several moments before closing her eyes and letting sleep overtake her, drawing her into a hazy world where Luke laughed with his blue eyes shining and Samantha fell onto the carpet with her eyes wide open over and over until Gladwynn woke up gasping.

She spent the rest of the day reading books, listening to Harry Connick Jr., and wishing she’d never found that button.

***

In some ways Gladwynn was surprised when her father agreed to go to church with them the next day. He’d been mainly working in his father’s office since he’d arrived. They had also talked very little since their conversation over dinner on his first night in town. Gladwynn had a feeling they’d both been avoiding each other, but church was important to them both and this was one day where they’d need to put their issues aside.

Missing a Sunday service when she was growing up was rarely allowed unless someone was sick. She’d missed services more than she should have in college but after college her faith became even more of a center of her life and she had returned to regular attendance.  

There were times she doubted her father’s pride in her, but she didn’t doubt that his faith was an important part of his life. She wasn’t sure if it was the center of his life like it had once been most of his life, but she hoped it would be again one day if it wasn’t now.

Rain smacked against the windshield as her father drove and she looked down at her hot pink shoes and realized she should have worn rain boots. Wearing inappropriate footwear for the weather was a common theme for her. She’d wanted to change that, but she thought the rain had been mainly sprinkles when she woke up. Now it was a full-on downpour and running from the parking lot to the church in these shoes would be a challenge.

Seeing Luke was going to be another challenge. She’d much rather deal with the shoe challenge.

No matter how many theories she came up with about how Luke’s button broke off in Samantha’s room she came back to one that made more sense than the worst possibility. Samantha and Luke had been having some sort of affair. If that was true, though, then why hadn’t Luke seemed more upset by Samantha’s death? He wasn’t callous to the news by any means but he also didn’t act like a grieving lover.

A small-town pastor who encouraged others to live like Christ from the pulpit while being involved in a secret sexual affair was a hard concept for Gladwynn to wrap her mind around. He didn’t seem the type of man who would speak with a forked tongue as the saying went, but she supposed it was possible.

As William parked the car her stomach clenched with a sudden horrible thought. What if Luke and Samantha had been having an affair and she’d threaten to tell the church board? That would have been plenty of motivation for him to murder her.

As soon as she glimpsed him in the doorway of the church smiling as parishioners arrived, though, she couldn’t seem to accept either of the most sensational theories she’d come up with. She couldn’t imagine Luke as someone who would sleep with a woman he wasn’t married to nor could she imagine him being a violent person who would murder anyone.

She watched him shake hands with Tanner’s sister and then Tanner himself. Tanner had recently started attending more regularly. Doris was next and then a woman she didn’t recognize but who was carrying a baby. Luke touched the baby’s head gently and Gladwynn’s chest constricted. There just had to be a perfectly innocent explanation for why his broken button had been in Samantha’s bedroom.

“Earth to Gladwynn!”

She snapped back to her surroundings at the snap of Lucinda’s finger and thumb in front of her face.

“Oh! Yes, what?”

“Good grief, what color are the clouds in your sky this morning, girl?” Lucinda asked with a laugh. “Your father has pulled up front to let us out so we don’t have to run in the rain. Are you ready?”

Gladwynn grabbed her purse and Bible. “Of course. Thank you.”

“You should have drunk the rest of that smoothie I made for you,” Lucinda said as they walked under the porch toward the front door. “You seem like you need some energy.”

“I’d be in the bathroom most of the service if I had,” Gladwynn responded in a whisper.

She prayed that Luke would disappear to get ready for the service before she and Lucinda reached the front door but instead, he caught her gaze and smiled.

“Ah, my favorite Scottish ladies are here. Good morning to you.”

He offered two quick kisses on each of Lucinda’s cheeks and then reached his hand out to Gladwynn. She slid her hand into his slowly as his fingers wrapped around hers in a gentle shake. The palm of his hand was soft and warm.

“Good morning, Gladwynn. Are you feeling better today?”

She stared into his blue eyes, her brow wrinkled in confusion. “Better?”

His smile faded slightly. “Yes, better than you were yesterday after the funeral.”

“Oh. Right. Yes, I do feel better. Much better. Just needed a cup of coffee and a nap.”

His rich laughter tickled across her skin. “That sounds like a bit of an odd combination, but okay.”

Lucinda nudged her gently in the ribs with her elbow. “This one can drink coffee before bed and still sleep. Must be nice, eh?”

Luke laughed again. “It must be, yes. I have a fairly high toleration for caffeine myself. Not that high, however.” He glanced at Gladwynn’s shoes. “Still wearing shoes not meant for the weather we’re having I see.” He grinned and warmth flushed from her chest into her face.

Music began to play at the front of the church before she could respond. “Oh,” he said. “Excuse me. I need to get ready for the service. I’ll see you ladies later.”

William slid into their pew with them a few minutes later, his hair and suit coat damp but not soaked. He gave a quick look at Jacob sitting next to his mother, then focused his attention on the worship team as they started the first song.

Gladwynn did her best to concentrate during the service, but she found herself trying to imagine Luke with an angry face, grabbing on to Samantha and tossing her around the room. No matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn’t. She was grateful when the service ended and she, her father, and Lucinda headed out into the sunshine that had now broke through. Luke hadn’t been at the back of the church when they’d left and she was relieved.

“What do you girls think about lunch at the country club this afternoon?” William asked as they left the church. “I’ve been meaning to visit there all week and this would be a nice time to do it before I leave Tuesday for the conference.”

Lucinda looked over her shoulder at Jacob who was speaking to another parishioner. “I would love to but I invited Jacob over for lunch and have a roast in the crockpot remember?”

William adjusted his tie and took a deep breath. Gladwynn watched his jaw clench slightly before he said, “I’m sure the roast will be fine until we get home and Jacob can follow us if he’d like to come.”

“I’ll ask him what he thinks,” Lucinda said. “A dinner out would be nice and we can always have the roast for lunch tomorrow.”

“We’ll meet you in the car,” William said in a tone that sounded to Gladwynn a lot like a teenager who wanted to do something fun but was told he had to do a chore instead.

A few minutes later as Gladwynn pulled her door closed William turned around to look at her from the driver’s seat. “Why didn’t you tell me about Jacob and your grandmother.”

“Tell you what?”

“They are clearly seeing each other.”

“Yes, they see each other. They’re not blind.”

“This isn’t the time for your humor, Gladwynn. My mother is dating a man and you didn’t think to tell me about it?”

“You and I don’t exactly check in with each other if you haven’t noticed.”

A vein near William’s eye flinched. “I have noticed but that’s not my doing.”

Gladwynn tipped her head. “Isn’t it? I don’t recall receiving a bunch of calls from you that I never returned.”

William hugged out a frustrated breath. “You have made it clear in the past that you don’t appreciate my interference in your life so why would I call?”

“Is saying, ‘hello, my dear daughter, Gladwynn. How are you doing?’ really interference or is it just a father showing he cares?” She pasted the broadest smile on her face that she could.

William pressed a hand to his forehead. “Then I apologize. I will try to remedy that in the future but as you will recall, when I have asked you in the past how you are all you have said is ‘fine.’ That word really doesn’t give a father much to go on to know how you are actually doing.”

Gladwynn leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, laying her hands folded on her knee. “Because saying much more opens the door for you to criticize my life decisions.”

William was glaring now. “Gladwynn, as I have said before, I am only expressing concern, not criticism. Now quickly, before your grandmother gets back, how long have your grandmother and Jacob been dating?”

Gladwynn lifted her chin slightly, liking the fact that she had information her father didn’t have, yet so desperately wanted. “She doesn’t like to call it dating. She simply says they are enjoying each other’s company or spending time together.”

“Fine. How long have they been enjoying each other’s company?”

Gladwynn sighed, deciding to stop toying with her father “I’m not actually sure. They were enjoying each other’s company for an unspecified amount of time before I arrived here. I only found out when I saw them out together at a local diner and it took me a bit to drag it out of her.”

“Well, I –”

Gladwynn waved her hand and pointed out the windshield. Lucinda was almost to the car. “Save your closing argument for later, counselor. The defendant is on her way back.”

Lucinda slid into the passenger seat with a soft sigh. “Jacob says he thinks it would be nice for us to have a family dinner together and he will catch us tomorrow for some lunch. He’s going to go grab a grilled cheese at the diner. I tried to talk him coming with us, but he insisted.”

William started the car. “That was nice of him. He was completely welcome to join us, however.”

Lucinda patted William’s arm. “I’m sure he was. Thank you, William for this spontaneous plan. I haven’t eaten at the club restaurant in years. I didn’t realize you were still a member.”

William backed out of the parking space. “Send in my donation every year.”

Gladwynn wasn’t as thrilled about going out for lunch, but when she’d visited the country club with her parents as a child and teenager, she’d always loved the food, the atmosphere, and the second story view of the golf course below.

She noticed that the country club had changed more than she expected as they made their way up the long road to the restaurant portion of it. An addition had been added to the front of the club house and it looked like the course had been expanded.

Inside, the restaurant had definitely been renovated with the addition of large windows in the dining area that made the view of the course and the hills surrounding it even more picturesque. The walls were now painted white, making the entire space look large and brighter. Each table was fitted with a white tablecloth and red napkins. The bar area had also been refurbished and improved with a long, curved bar stretching around a mirror that reflected the entire dining room. Gladwynn found this fact both fascinating and terrifying. She wasn’t sure how she felt about everyone in the dining room being able to see her eat from any and every angle.

The waiter sat them at a table near the large windows and took their drink orders.

William opened the menu they’d been handed. “Quite an improvement to the place. Almost looks like something you’d find in the city now.”

Gladwynn knew that William saying “something you’d find in the city” meant he felt it was up to his standards. She wasn’t exactly sure when he’d developed a wealthy standard. Her family had always had more money than most with her father being a corporate lawyer, but they’d never been at the level of the Thornton family.

Still, over the last 15 years or so, her parents had become more particular about the restaurants they ate at, the people they associated with, the clothes they wore, the places they visited, the cars they drove. More and more of their life became focused on what they looked like to others and if they were popular or not.

To be popular they seemed to need the finest clothes, a house in a “better” part of town. This had started while Gladwynn was in high school and only got worse while she was in college. She half expected her father to tell her one day how important it was for her to marry within her class.

Luckily her sister had married “within their class” when she’d married a doctor straight of college and immediately began having children.

Gladwynn looked over her menu at her father, studying him and wondering what switch had been flipped in his early 40s to take him from casual and relaxed to stuffy and uptight.

“So that was a nice sermon.” He spoke without looking up from the menu. “The pastor seems like a fine young man. Not up to Dad’s standards, of course, but I’m sure that will come with time.”

Lucinda laid her menu down. “He’s young and he’s not your father. Of course he won’t preach the same way. We like him very much.” She smiled at Gladwynn. “Don’t we Gladwynn?

Gladwynn narrowed her eyes and looked at Lucinda a few seconds then looked back at the menu. “Yes,” she mumbled. “He’s a good speaker.” She laid the menu down. “I think I’ll have the grilled chicken salad.” She made sure not to make eye contact with Lucinda. “So, Dad, have you talked to Sheena recently?”

She knew she’d regret asking about her talented older sister, but at least it would steer the conversation from her personal life.

William laid his menu down. “Yes, actually. She’s on tour in Australia right now and will play at Buckingham Palace in October. I was sure she would have told you that already?”

The regret solid in her chest, Gladwynn reached for her water and took a long drink “I can’t imagine why she would. We rarely talk.”

She’d never been super close to either of her sisters, but as the oldest child, Sheena was almost from an entire other generation. Gladwynn had little in common with her other than their love of music. Sheena was currently on tour with the London Philharmonic as a violinist. Her talent was something Sheena and her parents had nurtured since she’d been very young and Gladwynn had always been impressed with her dedication, if not a little bit jealous of the attention it brought her.

She didn’t dislike Sheena, but they didn’t often talk and when they did, Sheena didn’t exactly confide in her.

William continued to share some more about Sheena’s accomplishments and then the waiter came to take their order. Gladwynn was thankful for the break.

William stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to visit the men’s room.”

Gladwynn let out a breath as he walked toward the back of the restaurant and relaxed back in her seat.

“Could you be any more tense?” Lucinda asked, squeezing a lemon into her water.

Gladwynn shrugged her shoulder. “I could. Do you want me to try?”

“Clearly, I was joking, young lady. Now, you really shouldn’t –”

Lucinda’s eyes widened and she tilted her head to one side suddenly.

Gladwynn’s heart pounded in alarm. “Grandma? Are you okay? Are you having a muscle cramp?” She reached her hand out to touch Lucinda’s arm. “A stroke?”

Lucinda straightened her head and narrowed her eyes. “No, I’m not having a stroke. I’ve just spotted someone who might know more about who killed Samantha.”

Gladwynn scowled. “Why didn’t you just say that?” She started to look over her shoulder. “Who?”

Lucinda grabbed her hand. “Don’t look! We don’t want to be obvious.”

“How else am I going to see who you’re talking about?”

“Fine, but turn slowly.”

Gladwynn turned slowly in her chair. Michael Thornton was sitting two tables away with another man. Both were wearing suits and both wore serious expressions as they spoke.

She turned back to face Lucinda. “Well, so what? What can we do about him being here? We can’t just go over there and talk to him.”

Lucinda bit her lower lip. “I could.”

“No, you couldn’t.” Gladwynn shook her head. “You don’t even know him.”

“I knew his father and I could –”

“Grandma. No. We are not getting involved. We are not police officers. We are a newspaper reporter and a retired, elderly woman.”

Lucinda mocked gasped. “Elderly? Gladwynn, really. How could you call me elderly?” She smiled and lightly touched a hand to the bun her hair was pulled into. “I don’t feel a day over 30.” She lowered her voice as she sipped her water. “A day over 30 times three, but that is besides the point.”

“How do you think he even got in?” Gladwynn asked in a whisper. “He isn’t even local so how does he have a membership?”

“You don’t actually have to be a member to eat at the restaurant,” Lucinda responded. “But also – he’s a billionaire, remember?”

William’s return to the table ended the conversation. After they placed their orders, Gladwynn couldn’t help but wonder what Michael and the other man were talking about. She had just told her grandmother that they needed to stay out of it and now here she was wanting to get into it somehow, see if she could overhear anything that would incriminate Derek’s family in Samantha’s death.

She really needed to listen to her own advice, but she wasn’t going to.

Fiction Friday: Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage Chapter 12 and Chapter 13

As always, this is a work in progress and there could be (will be) typos, plot holes, and other errors but those will be fixed before the book is published a couple of months from now.

If you want to read the first book in the series, you can find it on Amazon HERE.

If you don’t want to read this story in chapters on a blog and would rather read the fully-finished and polished version, you can pre-order it HERE.

Chapter 12

If you want to learn more about my other books you can find links to them HERE

Chapter After the tense supper with her father, Gladwynn decided she’d stop by Brewed Awakening for a cup of coffee to get her through the rest of her shift. Abbie was behind the counter with a smile, which was exactly what she needed.

“Whoa. You okay?”

Leave it to Abbie to be able to see right through her. She’d made sure she was smiling when she walked in and she and Abbie had only been friends for a few months, but Abbie could already tell when something was off.

Gladwynn waved her hand as if to dismiss the concern. “I’m fine. Just family drama.”

Abbie reached for a cup. Gladwynn knew she was getting ready to prepare Gladwynn’s usual coffee with French vanilla creamer and a dollop of whip cream on top. “Your dad?”

“Of course.”

Abbie turned to the coffee machine. The liquid pouring into the cup soothed Gladwynn and she found herself staring at it longingly.

Abbie glanced over her shoulder. “Already? Didn’t he just get there?”

Gladwynn reached into her purse for her wallet. “He doesn’t like to wait to bring a person down. Might as well get it over with seems to be his motto.”

The whipped cream spiraled upward and a swirl of chocolate syrup was added on top. “What’s his issue? Your moving or your job?”

“Both.”

Abbie slid a lid on the coffee cup and handed it to her. “Hopefully he accepts soon that you’re a grown woman and living your own life. Maybe it’s just hard for him and your mom to let you go.”

Gladwynn laughed. “No. That’s definitely not it. More like it’s hard for them to accept that I’m going to live my life and not the life they mapped out for me.” She took a sip from the cup. “Hey, I have this theory I want to run by you.”

Abbie tapped the top of the counter. “Run it by me. I’m ready.”

Gladwynn leaned closer, her elbows on the counter. “I think Derek was Samantha’s father.”

Abbie leaned back, eyes wide. “Really? What makes you think that?”

“Grandma and I found a letter in Samantha’s apartment from her mom apologizing to her for not telling her who her father was earlier.”

Abbie tilted her head, a small smile pulling at one corner of her mouth. “You were snooping at her apartment?”

Gladwynn shook her head. “No. We were looking for the extra scripts she had with notes for the actors. The letter discovery was an accident. Or at least Grandma said it was.”

Abbie pulled a tray of cookies from under the counter and began to refill the display case. “I can’t believe you’re pulling your grandma into being a snoop.”

“I did no such thing. She invited herself along. I offered to go so Grandma or anyone else that was close to Samantha didn’t have to.”

Abbie lowered her voice. “Did the letter say that Derek was her father?”

“No, but I just have a gut feeling. I mean Derek moved here like three years ago, Samantha two. They spent a lot of time together and – I don’t know. The letter just makes me think that Samantha was trying to connect with him.”

“Do you think he knew she was his daughter?”

Gladwynn shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if my theory is true or not.”

The front door opened and several people stepped inside. Gladwynn guessed they were all together, maybe visiting the local state park or family in town.

“Good luck,” she whispered to Abbie before stepping away from the counter. “I’ll let you know if I find out anything else.”

“You better,” Abbie whispered.

The group was blocking her exit so she waited to one side, sipping the coffee. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a blur of color and blond hair.

“Gladwynn!”

She looked toward the sound of her name being called. Summer was walking toward her with a cup in one hand and a takeaway pastry bag in the other.

“Gladwynn! Oh my goodness! I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since you found Samantha.” The tall, blond threw her arms around Gladwynn and pulled her in for a brief, tight hug. She leaned back, her hands still on Gladwynn’s upper arms. “Are you okay? I mean you can’t be okay. Not after such a shock. It was a shock, wasn’t it? It’s all over town that you and Doris found her. I just can’t believe she’s gone. It’s like a total nightmare.” She let go and swept her long curls off her shoulder. “Do you think she was really murdered? Based on what you saw? I mean was there a knife or something?”

Gladwynn waited for a few seconds to be sure Summer was done speaking before answering. “Uh. No. I didn’t see a murder weapon. And yes, it is a shock. I have no idea if she was murdered or not based on what I saw but the police seem to think she was.”

Summer grasped Gladwynn gently by the elbow and ushered her toward a table. “Sit down. Take a load off.  I’m sure you could use someone to talk to. I know I could.”

“Actually, I have to get back to –”

Summer sat at the table and patted the surface of it in front of the chair across from her. “Oh just sit for a few. You work so hard. Luke is always saying so.”

Gladwynn sat reluctantly, catching the eye of Abbie who looked at her with a questioning expression. “I can stay a few minutes, sure.”

Summer sipped her tea and broke off a piece of her cookie. “Samantha and I had the best conversation one night in her apartment a couple of months ago. She was helping me learn my lines and we started talking about our lives and where we grew up. I grew up here, of course, but she told me she’d grown up in a small town somewhere in Nebraska. Her father was a farmer and her mother was a teacher. I could relate, of course, because my mother was also a teacher. I guess that’s why I love to read so much. My mother read all the time and it inspired me and now here I am working at the library that I practically lived in when I was growing up.”

Interesting. Hadn’t Vince said Samantha told him she was from outside Chicago?

Summer reached inside her purse for a tissue. Her voice softened. “Sam was so full of life. She had such plans for her future. She wanted to get married and have lot of children because she said she’d been an only child and she didn’t want her children to have such a lonely upbringing.”

She wiped her eyes and then gently blew her nose. “You hadn’t had a chance to meet her, had you?”

Gladwynn took a sip of her coffee. “No. I was set to meet her the day she died.” She leaned back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Did she ever tell you what brought her to Brookstone?”

Summer frowned. “Not that I recall.”

“She didn’t say if she had any connections here? I mean, Brookstone, Pennsylvania is a long way from Nebraska.”

Summer’s blond waves bounced as she shook her head. “I couldn’t tell you. Maybe? I guess she just liked the area or something and the job looked good to her.”

A car honked somewhere outside. The line at the front of the shop was getting smaller now and most of the people who had come in earlier had found tables to sit.

“I think it’s weird that Derek died the week before her,” Gladwynn said. “I heard they used to hang out a lot. Did anyone ever say anything to you about who found Derek or how he died?”

Summer’s eyes widened. “Gosh. I don’t know who found him. I do think it’s weird he died only a week before Sam, but I have no idea how he died.”

Gladwynn glanced at her watch. She really needed to get to work. She was already late. Still she wondered what other information she might be able to pull from Summer. “Will you be going to his funeral?”

“Oh, of course. I loved Derek. Everyone did.” She broke off another piece of her cookie and popped it in her mouth. “He was a sweet man and a huge supporter of the library and the theater. He made a huge donation for us to buy books last year. We were able to replace half of the children’s library inventory with it.”

“Wow. So Derek must have had some money then.”

“He must have, but I don’t know much about him or his background. All I know is that he was hilarious, full of life like Samantha, and absolutely loved old black and white movies. He and Samantha used to watch them together in the lounge or at his or her apartment and even invited me one night. We watched Monkey Business with Cary Grant and Ginger Rogers. Marilyn Monroe played a small part in it too. Have you seen it?”

Gladwynn sipped her coffee again. “I have actually. My grandma and I love to watch old movies together.”

Summer broke off another piece of cookie, eating it has daintily as she had the other pieces. “Luke loves old movies too. I can’t say I’m a huge fan but I watch them because he likes them. I’ve enjoyed a couple we’ve watched, but I’m more a fan of 80s chick flicks.”

There she went again, slyly dropping Luke’s name into the conversation. Gladwynn wondered if she was doing it on purpose or it was natural for him to talk about him because they were so close.

“You know, it was weird,” Summer said thoughtfully. “That night when we watched the movie, Samantha kept getting up and taking phone calls. She seemed – I don’t know. Off somehow. I don’t know if it was the phone call or if something else was going on. I asked her if she was okay and she said she was a diabetic and hadn’t eaten right that day, but I felt like there was something more going on.”

Gladwynn spun the coffee cup in her hand. “When was this again?”

Summer touched a long finger to her chin and Gladwynn found herself staring at the dark red hue of her fingernail polish. “About five months ago. I think anyhow.” She stopped tapping her chin. “Oh, yes. That would have been about that long. It was when Luke and I were going to go to a renaissance festival but then he decided he didn’t want to go so Sam and Derek invited me to come over instead.”

She could stop mentioning Luke anytime now. That was the third time. In fact, to help her stop mentioning Luke, Gladwynn was going to excuse herself.

“I hate to cut this short, but I do need to get back to work.”

Summer brushed crumbs off her hand onto a napkin. “Oh, of course. I’ve taken up enough of your time.” She smiled, her eyes glistening. “Thank you for listening. It felt good to talk about Sam. She’s truly going to be missed.”

The sincerity in Summer’s voice was clear and Gladwynn agreed with her as she stood. She wished Summer a good day then quickly made her way to the front door before anyone else could stop her.

As she drove, she thought back to what Summer had said about Samantha seeming off that night. Maybe she’d simply been off because she hadn’t taken care of her health. Or could it have been because of whoever had been on the phone with her? Maybe someone was threatening her? Maybe Derek had told his children about her and it was one of them who she’d been on the phone with her that night.

***

 Gladwynn couldn’t believe it but she’d finally caved under the pressure and given in to playing Diana in the Willowbrook production of Anne of Green Gables. Now here she was on a Saturday morning trying to learn her lines when she could have been at the lake relaxing,

She’d barely seen her father since their conversation two nights ago. She’d been at work and he’d been on conference calls or closed up in her grandfather’s office by the time she was up for the day.

This morning he was off for a jog. Gladwynn wondered what he would think when he arrived home and found Jacob and Brutus in the kitchen with Lucinda.

As far as she knew, Lucinda still hadn’t told him about her and Jacob “spending time together.” In some ways, Gladwynn wanted to be out of the room when William returned, but in other ways, she wanted to sit back for the show when he saw Jacob.

Lucinda was upstairs getting dressed for Derek’s funeral. Gladwynn had agreed to attend with her, partially to offer her support and partially because she wanted to get a look at Derek’s family.

She’d chosen a more conservative dress than she normally wore, color-wise at least The dark brown pencil skirt matched nicely with a white blouse without sleeves with a frilly neckline. She’d chosen her darker red lipstick and styled her hair into a 1940s style she’d seen online. She was actually quite pleased with how it came out.

Lucinda came down the stairs in a black skirt and white blouse with a black suit coat over it. “I’m going to grab myself some toast and tea. Have you had anything?”

“A little oatmeal and coffee,” Gladwynn answered, laying the script on the coffee table. “Jacob is in there reading the paper still. Have you said anything to dad about him?”

Lucinda adopted her best innocent expression.

“There simply hasn’t been any time. Your father has been working so much since he’s been here.”

Gladwynn followed Lucinda into the kitchen. Sunlight poured across the white and green flowered linoleum.  “That’s no different from any other time.” She picked up her coffee mug and slid it into the microwave. “You’re going to have to explain at some point why there is a man in your kitchen.”

Jacob chuckled from behind the newspaper. “I told her I could make myself scarce but she expressed pretty much the same thing you have about him needing to know eventually.” He lowered the newspaper. “Which is why I’m still here.” He put the paper back up again. “Besides we are all adults here. I’m sure your father will be a lot calmer about things than you think.”

The front door opened as Gladwynn took her mug from the microwave. “Well, we are about to find out. Buckle up, Chief.”

Jacob chuckled again from behind the newspaper.

William walked briskly into the kitchen wiping his brow with a handkerchief. “Looks like it’s going to be hotter than the forecast said today. It’s already heating up out there.”

He didn’t seem to notice the newspaper propped up on the table or the hands holding it as he made his way to the cupboards for a glass. He had retrieved the pitcher of water, turned around, and was filling the glass when he looked up and his gaze fell on the newspaper.

Gladwynn sat herself at the seat at the end of the table, next to Jacob. Crossing one leg over the other, she sipped her coffee and watched her father over the rim of the mug.

William set the pitcher and glass down and cleared his throat. “Oh. You ladies didn’t tell me we had a visitor today.”

Again with the throat clearing, Gladwynn thought with a small, quiet laugh.

Jacob lowered the paper, folded it, and laid it on the kitchen table, then smiled.

For her part, Lucinda continued to make herself toast and heat up the water for her tea as if nothing unusual was occurring. “Hmmm? Oh, yes. William this is Jacob and his canine friend Brutus. They join us for breakfast and dinner from time to time.”

One of William’s eyebrows raised as he propped his hands on the counter behind him. “Jacob. Hello. You were a friend of my father’s weren’t you?”

Jacob stood and walked around the table, holding his hand out. “I was. Also a deacon at the church for years, but mainly after you left for college. Good to see you again.”

William looked at Jacob’s hand suspiciously for a few seconds before taking it and shaking it firmly, his expression unreadable. Gladwynn swallowed a laugh at her father’s awkwardness.

“Jacob. Yes. I remember you.” He let Jacob’s hand go. “Good to see you too. You used to be police chief, or maybe you still are?”

Jacob shook his head slowly. “Nope. Not chief anymore. Retired for a few years now.”

Gladwynn had to give her father credit for recovering quickly from the surprise. He tossed in a smile for good measure even if it was a smile tinted with a bit of confusion.

Jacob sat back down and lifted his coffee cup. “Your mother makes a mean cup of coffee.”

William looked at Lucinda, whose back was to him, keeping his eyes focused on her as he responded, the smile fading. “Yes. Yes, she does. I know my father always said so.”

Lucinda poured hot water into her teacup. “William, I think you remember that Gladwynn and I are going to the funeral of a friend of mine this morning. We’ll be home later and I’ll make sure to fix us all some supper. I hope you don’t mind if Jacob joins us.”

William looked back at Jacob and the smile returned. “Of course, I don’t mind. The more the merrier.” He turned back to the refrigerator and pulled a lemon out to cut slices for his water. “I’m sorry to hear about your friend. Anyone I know?”

“No,” Lucinda said. “Derek Murphy was his name – well, actually, I guess his name was Derek Thornton but he went by Murphy when I knew him.”

William began to cut the lemon into slices. “The Derek Thornton? The founder and owner of the Thornton Hotel company?”

Lucinda sat down at the table with her tea and toast. “Yes, from what I’m reading in the papers. He never told any of us that, though.”

William squeezed lemon into his water, then hooked one on the edge of the glass. “That’s strange. I heard he had retired but didn’t know he was living here. What in the world brought him to Brookstone?”

Lucinda shrugged. “No idea. We’re all wondering that now ourselves.”

William sat at the table with his glass of water. “My firm did some work for the Thornton family years ago when Derek was still in charge. Heard he was a good guy. I played a few rounds of golf with one of his sons. I think his name was Michael.”

Gladwynn and Lucinda gave each other a look, remembering the day outside Samantha’s condo.

“What did you make of Michael?” Gladwynn asked, drinking the last of her coffee.

“Didn’t have a lot of time to get an impression of him really,” William said. “He seemed like a take-charge guy. Didn’t like it when he didn’t make a put. Bit of a temper on him, but a lot of guys have a bit of temper when it comes to golf. He took a couple of calls during one round and used a few choice words. Beyond that, we didn’t really interact.” He took a long drink of the water and stood. “Anyhow, I’m sorry to hear about his father. Like I said, a good guy. Always fair and easy to talk to from what my colleagues said. I’m going to head up and get a shower and then do a few things in Dad’s office.” He tipped a nod at Jacob. “Jacob, have a good day, and see you for supper.”

Jacob lifted a hand. “You too, William.”

A few moments later Lucinda had finished her breakfast and had her purse over her shoulder. “Ready to go?” When they reached the front door, she picked up her purse and keys from the table next to the coat rack. “We’ll take my car. Yours is much too flashy. Jacob, you’re going to meet us there after you drop off Brutus?”

Jacob had followed them down the hallway, Brutus trotting along behind him. “Yes, ma’am. That’s the plan.”

Lucinda winced. “Don’t call me ma’am. It makes me feel like one of my former students is addressing me.”

Jacob kissed Lucinda’s cheek. “My dear, I am definitely not one of your former students so I will refrain from doing that again.”

Gladwynn was certain she saw a blush spread across Lucinda’s cheeks as a girlish smile crossed her lips and she patted Jacob’s cheek with her hand. “You’re too sweet. See you soon.”

Jacob’s eyes were focused on Lucinda’s now and they were twinkling. “See you soon too.”

It was Gladwynn’s turn to clear her throat. “Okay, you two. Let’s save this for later.”

Lucinda shot her granddaughter a quick scowl and then they all walked onto the porch, Jacob passing by them with Brutus on the way back to his house.

“There’s nothing wrong with flashy,” Gladwynn commented, referring to Lucinda’s earlier comment about her car.

“It attracts the attention of police.” Lucinda paused, looked over her shoulder, and winked. “Of course, you attract the attention of the police even out of that car.”

Gladwynn narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lucinda continued down the driveway toward the garage. “Lindy Brown at the barracks said she sensed some ‘energy’ coming off you and Tanner when you stopped by the other day.”

Gladwynn scoffed. “Lucinda Grant. Come on. First, it was Luke and now you and your friends are trying to set me up with Tanner?” She stepped around Lucinda and down the front stairs. “Who is Lindy anyhow?”

“The receptionist you spoke with.”

“What is going on? Do you have spies everywhere?”

Lucinda reached into her purse and clicked the button on the remote to open the garage door. “Don’t be silly, sweetie. People just like to share information with me.”  She smiled sweetly as the garage door rose. “And sometimes that information is related to you.”

Gladwynn eyed her grandmother warily as she walked to the passenger side and opened the door. “The only reason I went to the police station is because someone blabbed that I had that letter.”

“It was evidence.”

“I was going to give it to him.”

“I felt you needed a nudge.”

Gladwynn pulled the door of the large 1987 Lincoln closed behind her and reached for her seatbelt. “I’ll nudge you,” she mumbled under her breath.

Lucinda started the car with a grin. “What’s that, honey?”

“Nothing.”

“You might like to hear what else Lindy told me.”

Gladwynn folded her hands over her purse. “I’m listening.”

“She overheard another detective and Tanner talking and they said the coroner report said there was a small indentation in Samantha’s skin just by her collar bone. Barely noticeable.”

Lucinda paused as she backed the car out, but didn’t continue her story once she reached the end of the driveway.

“Well? What does that mean?” Gladwynn prodded.

“I don’t know. That’s all Lindy heard.”

“Could it mean she was poisoned with something?”

Lucinda shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine but I would say it sounds like it to me. I mean, she was a diabetic so it may have something to do with that, but I don’t think that’s a normal place to give an insulin shot and it was odd enough to the coroner for him to make a note of it.”

Who in Samantha’s life would want to kill her? Someone from the theater? Maybe Emerald, who had wanted her job. It seemed a bit much to kill someone simply to direct a retirement community play, though.

Gladwynn was still leaning toward someone from Derek’s family, especially if they thought Samantha might end up with some of the money they expected to inherit.

Chapter 13

The parking lot of the Brookstone Methodist Church was packed by the time they arrived. Lucinda had said Derek was a popular man but Gladwynn hadn’t realized how popular. Of course, it may also have been because those who knew him in his previous life had now learned of his passing and were curious why he’d passed away so far from home. A small collection of television news vans reminded her that Derek had been a very rich and powerful man when he was alive and members of his family still were very rich and powerful.

She and Lucinda passed a few cameramen on their way into the church, ignoring a reporter who asked how they had known Derek and if they’d been shocked to know who he really was.

A reporter holding a microphone and speaking into a camera asked the same question Gladwynn had in her mind as they walked up the sidewalk toward the front stairs of the church. “Derek Thornton moved to this quaint, rural community two years ago, but what would make the former CEO of a multi-million-dollar hotel chain leave his company and move 600 miles away, changing his name and assuming a quiet life in a retirement community?”

“Why indeed,” Lucinda whispered as they stepped into the lobby of the church, which was filled to the brim with residents – some looking to say goodbye to Derek and some possibly there just to see the drama that might unfold. She leaned close to Gladwynn. “We might not even be able to find a seat.”

A hand waving at the back of the church caught Gladwynn’s attention as they entered the sanctuary. She nodded toward the hand. “It looks like Doris saved us seats.”

The seats weren’t close enough to the front to get as good of a look at the family as Gladwynn would have liked but she could see several people sitting up front, most wearing black.   A couple of the women were wearing large black and white hats like she’d see the royals wearing at the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton.

Michael Thornton sat at the front of the church next to one of the women in the hats. The entire family looked out of place in the small church with its white walls, tall stained glass windows, and dark wood pews.

The woman next to Michael looked like a model on the front of Vogue. Her jet-black hair was pulled back tight and tucked up under the hat, where Gladwynn imagined it was held together in a bun. The woman’s chin and pert nose were pointed upward, her lips pressed into a thin line. Dark eyelashes, very possibly fake, draped over narrowed eyes. Everything about her body language screamed her discomfort with being there. Very little about her showed any grief.

Next to the woman that Gladwynn had guessed was Michael’s wife was another woman with red hair. She looked at her gold watch and pushed a strand of her hair back from her face. As Gladwynn glanced down the row she could only see the backs of heads until she came to the end of the row where a woman with short dark hair dabbed a tissue at the corner of her eye, her shoulders drooping.

A dark wooden casket with gold trim sat at the front of the church open with Derek barely visible. Gladwynn didn’t mind not having a better view. She’d never liked the idea of an open casket at a funeral. The body inside was merely a shell and for her it was hard to see the person she loved not moving, their spirit gone. At least in her grandfather’s case, she’d known where his spirit was residing.

Several moments passed before the pastor stepped up to the podium. He delivered a brief introduction, sharing a story about Derek donating the money needed to fix the roof of the church, and then opened the floor for anyone who wanted to share memories of Derek. No one from the family stood but several members of the community did, including Doris, Lucinda, and other residents at Willowbrook. A couple of the speakers expressed shock at learning who Derek was.

“He was down to earth, never showed airs as the saying goes,” Floyd Simpson said. “He played a dang good game of gin rummy too. Old fool owed me $20 and never let on he had plenty to pay me back with.” He laughed good-naturedly and then the smile faded. “I’m going to miss him. A lot of people are going to miss him. He brought a lot of good into a hurting world. I hope we all can remember to live like he did and pass the good on to others.”

As Louise stood Gladwynn noticed Eileen sitting behind her, head bowed, wearing a pair of dark sunglasses. She lifted the sunglasses briefly and rubbed a tissue under her eyes. Another person spoke and then the pastor drew the service to a close. Still, no one from the family stood to speak. Gladwynn was surprised the patriarch of a wealthy family had died and absolutely no one from his immediate family stood to say something nice or good about him.

She excused herself to the bathroom as soon as the service ended, hoping to beat the rush. The outside door opened as soon as she locked the stall door. A soft growl from the other side of the stall startled her.

“That was so tedious,” a woman’s voice complained, the click of heels against the floor mixing in with her words.

A second female voice, this one with a thick New York City accent, spoke. “I can’t even believe we had to have his funeral in this stupid little town.”

Then a third woman. “Marjorie don’t be awful. It’s what Derek wanted. It was in his will and I, for one, am glad that Michael respected your father’s wishes.”

The first woman spoke again. “You would be, Beatrice. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? What’s it like to walk around with a halo over your head? The only reason Michael agreed to it was because that country-bumpkin lawyer said they had to have the funeral here before the will can be read.”

The second woman snorted. “Exactly. I bet Derek had that thing read here because he thought that woman was going to be here. I can’t even believe he was going to give her part of the money. She did nothing to earn that money.”

Beatrice spoke again, this time from the stall next to Gladwynn. “If she really was his daughter then she deserved that money.”

The second woman: “The key word there is if she was his daughter. I get that Derek believed her and her mother but, come on, the old man should have ordered a blood test. She was probably just some money grubbing gold digger. Oh. Is that your pink lipstick? Can I borrow some?”

The first: “It is. The one I got at Macy’s. Go ahead and use it. And you’re right. I think she was just after Derek’s money. It doesn’t matter now, though, of course. She’s dead and she won’t be getting any of it. Too bad.”

Her “too bad” was definitely flippant and it was clear she didn’t really think Samantha’s death was a bad thing at all.

A soft whoosh was followed by the sweet smell of perfume. Gladwynn pressed herself against the back of the stall, hoping they wouldn’t notice her feet under the door.

The door to the stall next to her opened and then closed again. The faucet turned on, almost drowning out Beatrice’s words. “You’re both being awful. That poor young woman was murdered.”

The first woman laughed. “We’re not awful, Bea. We’re honest. I mean even you, Saint Beatrice, don’t want to lose your money, do you?” Her tone dripped with sarcastic mocking. “How else would you donate all that money to that church of yours?”

The door opened and closed again, a sound that Gladwynn imagined was Beatrice choosing to take the high road and leave the bathroom instead of responding to the other women – possibly her sister-in-law’s.  

The second woman spoke. “She makes me want to throw up. I don’t know what John was thinking marrying her.”

“She makes John weak if you ask me,” the first woman said. “John is nothing like Michael. He has no ambition. If she wasn’t around, John would be more focused on business and less on religion. That’s why Michael and I make such a good team. We both have an ambition.”

The other woman laughed. “That’s right. The ambition to make money and lots of it. Who cares where John and Beatrice spend their money. All I care about is that that woman is out of the picture.”

“Exactly.”

The door opened again and the click of heels signaled the two women had left. Gladwynn let out a long breath and relaxed.

So two of the Thornton women were very glad that Samantha was out of the picture. Their conversation had also confirmed that Samantha had been – or claimed to be – Derek’s daughter.

She couldn’t help wonder if one of the women had murdered Samantha? Or maybe they’d murdered her together. Or hired someone.

She left the bathroom a few minutes later, deep in thought, looking at the floor instead of where she was going.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she slammed hard into another person. When she looked up her gaze met a pair of sharp blue eyes. It didn’t seem it could be possible that she had, once again, not been looking where she was going and slammed right into Luke Callahan, but she had. The same thing had happened several months ago outside of the Covenant Church kitchen shortly after she’d met him.

Luke placed his hands on her upper arms to steady her and grinned. “This seems to be a regular thing with us, doesn’t it? Bumping into each other.”

Warmth spread across her cheeks. “Look like it. I’m sorry I was –”

“Deep in thought it looked like.”

She immediately registered that he was clean-shaven again and donning his more formal attire, unlike the day at his house. He was wearing a light gray suit coat, unbuttoned, with a light blue dress shirt and black tie. She couldn’t help taking it all in as she took a step back, trying not to admire how well he cleaned up. This was how she was used to seeing him every Sunday and for the few lunches he’d attended with her and Lucinda after church.

He dropped his hands from her arms and as he did so, she caught sight of half a missing button near the edge of the suit coat sleeve. A lump formed in her throat as she briefly studied the other buttons of the coat, realizing they were the same style of the button she’d found in Samantha’s carpet.

A cold chill rushed through her and she wrapped her arms around herself.

“Yes,” she said, her voice sounding strange and high pitched to her. “I was deep in thought. Again, I apologize.”

“It’s fine. You okay? You went a little pale there. Can I walk you to the fellowship hall for the dinner?”

“No, that’s okay.” She looked down, keeping her gaze focused on the tips of her shoes. “I’m not going to the dinner. I’m going back to work.”

“You have the weekend shift then?”

“Hmm?” Her mind raced and she struggled to focus on what he was saying. “Oh. No. I don’t usually work weekends. I guess I forgot it was Saturday. I actually have to rehearse for a play I’m in.”

He grinned and folded his arms over his chest, giving her even more of a view of the half button on the cuff of the coat. “You? In a play? I didn’t peg you as the theater type. Which play?”

She wanted to turn and run to her car to try to make sense of what she was seeing, tell herself there was no way Luke’s missing button was the same button in an evidence bag at the state police barracks. “Anne of Green Gables. The residents at Willowbrook roped me into playing Diana.”

His smile faded briefly, so briefly Gladwynn almost didn’t catch it. “Oh, of course. Summer is playing Anne. She did tell me that. I should have thought that’s the play you’d be in.”

Of course Summer told you because of course, according to Summer, you spend so much time together. How could you forget? She wanted to say all of that but instead she said, “There’s Grandma. I’d better catch up with her. She’s probably looking for me.” She stepped around him, ducking her head. She glanced over her shoulder, knowing she didn’t need to offer more explanation but doing so anyhow. “We came together so I need to ride back with her.”

“Okay then. See you Sunday?”

She tried to answer but her voice seemed stuck somehow. She merely nodded then quickly turned away, making her way through the crowd of people to Lucinda.

“There you are. I’m headed over to the fellowship hall. Are you coming?”

She shook her head slowly and laid a hand on her stomach. “You know, I don’t think that smoothie you made for me this morning is agreeing with me. I think I’ll head back to the house.”

Her stomach really was upset, but she knew it wasn’t the smoothie. She hated lying, but she couldn’t tell her grandmother that their pastor might be involved in a crime.

Concern immediately furrowed Lucinda’s brow. “Oh dear.” She dug into her purse and pulled out the car keys. “Well, here, take the car back. Doris will drive me home. There are some antacids in the medicine cabinet in the second bathroom upstairs.” She patted Gladwynn’s back. “Are you sure that’s all that’s bothering you? You’re very pale. Maybe I should drive you.”

Gladwynn took the keys. “No. I’m fine. You go visit with your friends. You all need each other right now.”

Lucinda gave her a quick hug and cast her a look that said she didn’t believe Gladwynn and they would talk about it later.

In the car, trying to remember how to drive such a big beast of a vehicle, Gladwynn’s throat tightened and tears stung her eyes.

Why had she found a button belonging to Luke in Samantha’s bedroom? Surely there was a simple explanation. Her imagination was running wild, though.

Had Luke and Samantha been having an affair of some kind? That idea was much easier for her to accept than the other possibility, which she didn’t want to think about at all.

She backed out of the parking space and noticed Luke’s bright red pickup parked near the front of the church. Thinking back to that day at his house, at the beautiful cottage, the flowers, the animals, and the way he’d told her to be careful getting involved in this case, her mind raced with panicked thoughts of the worst possible reason for his button being in Samantha’s condo. Could Luke really have murdered Samantha? And if so, why? None of it made sense and the mere thought of it made her feel like she might throw up.

Fiction Friday: Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage Chapter 10 and Chapter 11

As always, this is a work in progress and there could be (will be) typos, plot holes, and other errors but those will be fixed before the book is published a couple of months from now.

If you want to read the first book in the series, you can find it on Amazon HERE.

If you don’t want to read this story in chapters on a blog and would rather read the fully-finished and polished version, you can pre-order it HERE.

If you want to learn more about my other books you can find links to them HERE

Chapter 10

The drive to Laddsburg was scenic, relaxing and definitely breathtaking. The road curved up and down and then around several wooded areas before opening out into a valley featuring wide open fields where old-fashioned farm tractors sat by large bales of hay and cows wandered. On the hill above the Valley was a white church building against a brilliantly blue, cloudless sky.

Gladwynn was so distracted by the church she almost missed the turn off Templeton Road that her grandmother had told her about. She hadn’t even gone half a mile when an old-fashioned stone wall covered in vines and beautiful white and light purple flowers caught her attention.

Her breath caught as a cobblestone cottage surrounded by wildflowers came into view beyond the wall. A dirt driveway passed between stone wall, leading to a more modern looking garage separate from the cottage.

Her grandmother was right. The cottage was beautiful. Like something out of a Thomas Kinkade painting. She turned into the driveway slowly, taking in the beautifully finished wooden front porch, a slight departure from the more vintage feel of the rest of the cottage. Morning glory stretched up outside the red front door, the hedgerow had been shaped into the most pleasing square shape, and lavender sprouted up in the flower beds under the front windows.

She shut the car off and simply sat for a few moments, admiring the dark green hillside behind the cottage, watching a herd of Jersey cows grazing in the meadow at the lower end of it, and smelling freshly cut hay. Her gaze dropped to a small barn or stable behind the garage. It and a pasture were surrounded by a white fence. Luke was walking from the open door, his appearance startling her.

Gone were the neat khakis and white dress shirt she was used to seeing him in. He was wearing a stained gray t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and brown heavy work boots. Dark brown dirt was smeared on one cheek and light blond whiskers dotted his jawline. He hadn’t seen her yet, he was looking at the ground as he walked, his hand on the back of his neck, a frown creasing his brow.

She knew she couldn’t back out without him seeing her. Would he be bothered that she was seeing him unpolished, so to speak? She reached for the casserole dish as he reached the end of the gravel area near the garage and started to turn toward the house.

He must have caught the movement of her opening the car door out of the corner of his eye because he looked up quickly, a surprised expression on his face that quickly morphed into a smile.

“Oh hallo,” he said as she stepped out of the car. “I didn’t know I had a visitor.”

She stepped forward and held the casserole dish out toward him as he turned to face her more directly. “Grandma asked me to drop this off to you.”

Sweat glistened on his forehead as he walked toward her and she briefly wondered how smelly he might be after clearly working in his barn. When he came closer, though, she caught a whiff of fresh hay, vanilla and orange and nothing else.

He reached for the dish. “Ah, there’s my dish that your kleptomaniac grandmother stole.” He winked. “She didn’t need to rush getting it back. I told her that she could bring it to church Sunday instead.”

Instead she made me drive it out here so we would be forced to talk to each other, Gladwynn thought as he took the dish. She probably took the dish on purpose in the first place.

“Well, you know Grandma. When she wants something done, she wants it done now.”

Luke laughed, small lines crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes. “Aye, that’s true, but she also gets a lot done that needs to be done. Without her, the church and community as a whole would surely be lost.”

Gladwynn tipped her head in agreement. “Our family would be as well.” She gestured to the cottage and barn. “Your home is gorgeous.”

“Thank you. It’s a bit of Northern Ireland for me in Pennsylvania. This area already feels like home but this cottage and the land around it makes it feel even more like home.”

A chicken clucked and she looked down to see the light brown bird pecking at her shoes. Luke waved at the chicken. “Hey, Helen, get lost. Those are shoes, not food.”

An amused smile tugged at her mouth. “Helen? You named your chicken Helen?”

He grinned. “Sure did. Her feathers are the same color of my sixth-grade teacher’s hair and her name was Helen. So, therefore, this chicken is Helen.”

“Do you name all of your chickens?”

“Of course, I do. It’s the polite thing to do. I can’t very well say, hey chick number ten, move over, I need to get your eggs. Instead I can say, ‘Beatrice, move aside, love. I’d like to take your eggs for my breakfast.’”

She let out a laugh at the same moment a pig snorted from somewhere to the left. “You have pigs too?”

“I certainly do.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the house. “Let me go put this dish inside and I’ll introduce you to Herbert.”

He returned a few moments later and held his hand out toward the barn. “Right this way.”

She fell in step with him and they walked toward the barn, taking a stone sidewalk that looked hand built around the garage to get there.

She twirled her keys on her finger as she walked. “I hope this question doesn’t come off as nosey or rude, but you built all this on a pastor’s salary?”

He laughed as he opened the front gate leading to the small barn, which now that she was closer could see had recently been freshly painted red and featured an American flag hanging on the side.

 “No, actually. I built it on the inheritance by uncle left me in his will. It was small but enough to help me truly make Marson County my home.”

A loud snort turned her attention to a large brown and white pig waddling toward her across a mud-covered pasture. Or was it a hog? She wasn’t sure.

“There he is,” Luke declared. “Herbert The Pig himself.”

The beast smelled awful but something about his face was endearing and she couldn’t help stooping down, reaching her hand in through the fence, and scratching his rough head.

From her stooped position she could see a small chicken coup on the other side of the pasture. “You’re running a real farm here, it looks like.” She stood and couldn’t miss the amused smile on his face. “Thinking of stepping out of the pulpit and into the manure full time?”

He laughed loudly and once again she was struck with what a pleasant, masculine sound it was. “Not at all. The animals are simply my friends, my hobby, and sometimes my lunch.”

Her eyes narrowed and then she glanced back at the pig. “But not Herbert, right?”

He reached over the fence and patted Herbert’s large rump. “Definitely Herbert. Sad to say, he’ll be on my breakfast plate soon too. Parts of him anyhow.”

A small gasp came from her. “You’re going to butcher him?”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

“I am indeed.” His blues eyes twinkled, matching the smile he was wearing as he leaned one arm on top of the fence post. “My mouth waters just thinking about it.”

Now she was even more horrified. “Luke Callahan! That’s just awful. You treat this little pig like your friend today and tomorrow you’re just going to slaughter him?”

“No, not tomorrow. He’s not fat enough yet. Probably next spring.” He paused and studied her briefly before asking. “What are you some kind of vegetarian?” Then he laughed. “You don’t have to answer that, I know you’re not a vegetarian. I saw you put away at least three hamburgers at the church picnic a couple of weeks ago.

Her cheeks blazed hot. It sounded like he was suggesting she was as much of a pig as Herbert at this point. “No, I’m not a vegetarian but it’s different when you actually see what you’re eating while it’s still alive.” She rubbed the hog’s head as it grunted.

He sighed. “You’re a weird one, Gladwynn Grant.”

She cleared her throat and stopped petting Herbert. “And with that, I have to get to work.”

She turned and began to walk toward her car, stopping when she felt a hand on her elbow. She glanced up and Luke’s expression was serious. “Now. Now. Don’t be offended. I didn’t mean that you were a pig or anything. Just that you definitely eat meat.”

She nodded. “I definitely do, but I hope you don’t offer any of Herbert to me in the future because I would be horrified.”

He laid a hand on his chest. “On my honor, I will not feed you a bit of Herbert at any time – not even his tasty, melt-in-your mouth shanks I plan to cook one lovely Sunday afternoon in the spring.”

She made a face. The entire conversation, coupled with the sight of him looking so rugged, was shattering her perception of Pastor Luke Callahan and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

In turns out that Luke wasn’t always perfectly dressed or wearing a dazzling, clean-shaven smile. He didn’t only wear dress shirts and khakis after all. And he also possessed a slightly dark and very edgy sense of humor. The realization that he was different than what she’d pegged him to be made her feel a little woozy.

He fell in step with her on the way back to her car.

Her next question fell out before she’d really had time to think it through. “I was just wondering — how well did you know Samantha Mors?”

He stopped walking and looked at her with wide eyes. “That’s an out of the blue question. I guess it’s an occupational hazard, eh?”

She tipped her head down slightly and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth briefly, her cheeks warm again. “Yeah, I guess it is. Sorry.”

He laughed softly. “It’s okay.” He rubbed his chin. “I didn’t know her super well, to be honest. She attended church a few times and we talked a few times. She mentioned once that she had lived in Chicago at one time and I attended seminary near there so we talked about that.”

“Did she ever mention anyone who might want to hurt her?”

He shook his head. “Not directly no, but I don’t feel it would be right to share anything specific from our private conversations. It would feel to like a breach of her privacy.”

“The privacy of a dead woman?”

“Yeah. As weird as it sounds, I still feel I should respect her, even in death, and not share her secrets.”

“So, she told you secrets?”

He tipped his face away and shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Gladwynn, you have indeed learned the art of rewording questions to try to convince your subject to share.” The smile faded and a more serious expression crossed his face. “It won’t work on me, though. The conversations between Samantha and I were private conversation between a pastor and someone who came to him for prayer. I don’t feel comfortable sharing the details with anyone at this time.”

“What about the police?”

“What about them?”

“Would you share with them?”

“They’d have to have a very compelling reason for me to share with them.”

“A woman is dead. Isn’t that reason enough?”

“I won’t know until I know what they need to know and last I looked you weren’t the police.” The smile had slowly returned, a sight she welcomed since the last few minutes had introduced a tension between them that she wasn’t used to or fond of.

She cleared her throat and pulled her gaze from the lopsided smile that was increasing her heart rate. “All I am saying is that if you have information that could help the investigation into who killed Samantha Mors don’t you feel that you have a moral obligation to share that information?”

He folded his arms across his chest, widening his stance, the smile remaining in place. “I will share the information if I am asked to do so but at this point, I have not been asked to do so.” He rocked back on his heels for a brief moment. “Gladwynn, sometimes I think you’re just a bit too curious for your own good. I thought your job was to cover news stories, not investigate crimes.”

Defensive irritation bristled through her. “Part of the job of a reporter is to also investigate when it is needed.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you covering this story? It seems to me it would be a conflict if you were, since I understand you discovered her body.”

“I didn’t. Doris did, but I was there, yes, and, no, I am not covering the story, but—”

He held his arms out to his side and shrugged. “Then you don’t need to investigate, do you? I worry about you, Gladwynn. One day you’re going to ask the wrong person the wrong question and get yourself in trouble.”

She raised an eyebrow, her palms dampening with sweat. “Is that a threat, Luke Callahan?”

Luke threw his head back and let out a loud laugh, breaking through some of the tension. “A threat? Really? You’ve been reading too many Agatha Christie novels, little lady.” He tipped his head down and looked at her, the smile fading slightly as he took a step toward her. “No. It was not a threat. It was concern being expressed by not only your pastor but by someone who cares deeply for you and doesn’t want to see harm come to you.”

Gladwynn swallowed hard, unable to pull her gaze from his for a few seconds before her phone began ringing from the car. She took a step back toward the driver’s side of the car. “I should get this. It might be my boss asking where I am.”

He slid his hands in his jean pockets. “You better get going then. I appreciate your visit, though. No matter how brief.”

She opened the door, the phone still ringing.  “Thank you again for the tour of your lovely property.”

“You’re welcome. Any time. See you in church, Sunday?”

“Of course.” She hoped the tension she felt wasn’t evident in her tone, but she was sure it was. Sliding behind the steering wheel she slid her sunglasses on and started the car, wishing the top was up so she could let her calm expression fade away as she backed out of the driveway. The phone had stopped ringing but she could see from the caller ID that it was Tanner who had called.

She smiled again at the end of the driveway and waved as she started down the dirt road, but as soon as Luke was out of view, a frown creased her eyebrow and turned her mouth downward.

Why had he been so odd about sharing what he and Samantha had talked about? He’d said that he hadn’t known her well but then said she’d shared secrets with him.

Plus there was that weirdness at the end of their conversation. How should she interpret him saying he cared deeply for her? Did he care for her as a friend or more? And if he cared deeply for her, why wouldn’t he tell her what he and Samantha had spoken about?

Chapter 11

She called Tanner once she was in better cell service, which was when she was almost back to town.

“Do you have something you’re supposed to be dropping off to me?” he asked without returning her greeting.

His voicemail had been terse, asking only for her to call him. She’d had a feeling she was in trouble then. Now she knew she was.

“Do I?”

“Your grandmother called me an hour ago and said you had a letter for me. She said you would fill me in but that it was from Samantha Mors’ apartment.”

Gladwynn rolled her eyes. She’d told Lucinda she’d handle it, but clearly Lucinda felt she needed an extra push.

He continued, his voice dripping with passive aggressiveness. “I’m guessing you were intending to stop by and give me the letter but were busy with work and simply forgot.”

“Yes, actually, I have been very busy.”

“I’d like to have the letter, please. I can either swing by your office and pick it up or you can drop it off to me.”

She turned the car onto the main road and sighed. “I have a staff meeting that I am late for and a couple of stories to write and then I’m heading home for dinner. I’ll swing by and drop it off on my way back from dinner, if that works for you.”

“You do understand that withholding evidence from the police during an investigation is a crime, correct?”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a few moments. “Yes, but I didn’t mean to withhold it. I just wanted to read it and see if it would offer any clues to who might have killed Samantha. I knew if I took it to you that you’d say Grandma and I were snooping.”

“Please tell me that you did not drag your grandmother into your amateur sleuthing activities.”

“I didn’t do anything. We were simply looking for scripts in Samantha’s apartment. Finding the letter was an accident. You’re right, though, I should have taken it to you as soon as I read it.”

“No, you should have brought it to me as soon as you found it. You shouldn’t have been reading anything you found there.”

Gladwynn’s muscles tensed at his scolding tone. “And you or the other detectives should have found it when you searched the apartment, but here we are.”

“You are interfering in an investigation and now you’re calling into question the competence of the state police. That’s just great. You’re really batting zero right now, Gladwynn. I don’t care if you have a staff meeting or dinner to go to. You’ll bring me that letter now or I’ll show up at your office in a police cruiser with all the lights on and the siren blaring and take it from you.”

As much as his tone grated on her, she knew he was right. She was interfering in a police investigation and she had been wrong not to give him the letter as soon as she found it, even if he had told her she was a snoop and scolded her in front of his co-worker. “I’ll call my boss and tell him I need to stop at the barracks and will be late to my meeting.”

“See that you do.”

She hung up quickly and called Liam as she turned on the road to head toward the barracks.

The state police barracks was located at a busy intersection outside of town. Of course, by Brookstone standards busy meant a stoplight, a McDonalds, and a mini-strip mall with a Dollar General, a chain drugstore (they seemed to rotate every few years) and a diner. Gladwynn hadn’t been inside the barracks yet since moving there and she was curious to see what it looked like inside.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t see much other than the four brick walls of the lobby and a bullet proof see-through glass window with a small opening to her right. In front of her was a thick metal door, clearly enhanced with a heavy duty, silver lock with a keypad. In the center of the door was a small window that she imagined was one of those one-sided windows so they could look out but whoever was in the lobby couldn’t look in.

“Can I help you?”

A gruff female voice startled her and she noticed that a woman had appeared at the larger window with the counter. The woman had activated a speaker with a push of a button. Gladwynn could also faintly hear voices in the background and the click of computer keys.

“Yes, I’m here to see Detective Kinney.”

She was proud she hadn’t called him by his first name or accidentally assigned him the title of officer, like she had when she’d first started her job. The state police employed troopers, not officers, and now Tanner wasn’t even a trooper. He was a detective and she had to remember this change as well.

“Can I tell him who is here?”

The woman seemed to be a civilian, dressed in a white blouse and gray skirt. She was thin with a face that might have been pleasant if it wasn’t for the bored expression she wore and the way her graying blond hair was pulled firmly back from her long face in a tight bun. Her matronly look was topped off with a pair of small, round, silver wire-rimmed glasses. Gladwynn was certain she’d seen this same woman in every movie featuring a stern school principal as the villain.

“Gladwynn Grant. He’s expecting me.”

The woman’s expression didn’t change as she touched a hand to the speaker and all went silent on Gladwynn’s end. The woman picked up a phone said something into it, hung up and touched the button on the counter again. “He’ll be here in a moment.”

The woman turned slowly and sat at a cluttered desk with a computer, a stained coffee mug and a pile of papers. Gladwynn tapped her hand against her hip as she waited, wishing they had music in the lobby instead of the sterile silence inside a sterile brick room with two black chairs and a wall covered with legal warnings, a poster of America’s Most Wanted, and flyers showing parents how to install car seats.

Several minutes passed and she finally decided to sit in one of the chairs, trying not to think of how many other people had sat there and all the germs that might be on the leather seat or the metal armrests.

After almost ten minutes, a sharp click and the groan of the metal door signaled someone was coming into the lobby. That someone was Tanner wearing a dress shirt, a pair of gray dress pants, and a scowl.

He held out his hand, which she noticed was covered in a white rubber glove. “Letter?”

The door clanked closed behind him.

Gladwynn stood and hooked her purse strap over her shoulder. “No, ‘hello Miss Grant?’ Good evening? How are you today?’”

“No. You’re holding on to evidence in a criminal investigation. Now is not the time for polite and inane banter.”

She sighed and reached into her purse, pulling out the letter, which she had made a copy of in the office earlier in the day.

He snatched it from her hand. “Anything else you’re withholding?”

She wanted to say ‘no’ but she’d also been raised to be honest so she dug into the small inner pocket of the purse and found the half of the button. She laid it in the palm of his outstretched hand.

“Where did you find this?”

“In the carpet under the edge of Samantha’s bed.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You were searching her room? After we’d already been there?”

“No, I was not. My foot kicked it out of the bristles of the rug, or whatever they are called, and I picked it up. I thought it might have broken off the clothes or uniforms of one of your team or even the EMTs.”

“The fabric of the rug you mean?”

“The fabric, the bristles. Whatever.”

Tanner slid the button in his pocket. “You realize that you have contaminated the crime scene by removing items from it, correct? You also put your fingerprints all over these items, making it almost impossible for us to pick fingerprints up off of them.”

“I believe the scene was released by your department, if I’m not mistaken. Plus, can you even pick fingerprints off of paper?”

“If you were in law enforcement you would know that most paper has a fairly porous surface and therefore, we would have been able to pick fingerprints up off of it. Now all we’ll be able to pick up is your fingerprints.”

“And maybe Samantha’s, but I doubt there would have been any others on there anyhow because it was shoved up in the top of the drawer. I don’t even think the murderer knew it was there.”

Tanner closed his eyes briefly and a muscle jumped in his smooth-shaven, square jaw, a movement that fascinated Gladwynn. A small growl came from his throat. “You’re welcome to leave now that you’ve handed over the letter. In the future don’t meddle in our investigation or take evidence. If you find something you believe would be pertinent to our investigation then please contact us and we will come to you, not the other way around.”

Gladwynn tried not to smile at his use of the word pertinent. Why didn’t he just use the word important instead? She resisted the overwhelming urge to give him a salute as he turned to go back through the metal door.

“You’re welcome,” she said instead.

He glanced at her as he punched in numbers on the keypad, the letter in his other hand. “I will not be saying ‘thank you’ but you’re welcome to have a nice evening.”

“Do you have a cause of death for Samantha yet?”

He held the door open and looked at her with an expression that said he was five seconds from blowing his top, but was trying really hard not to. “You cannot be serious right now.”

She smiled and tipped her head to one side. “Just thought I’d ask. In case you were feeling generous with information.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “I’m not.”

The door slammed loudly behind him and she took that as her cue to leave. She wouldn’t find out any more information from Detective Tanner Kinney today.

***

After leaving the barracks, attending the staff meeting, and writing a couple of stories, Gladwynn decided she should head home for dinner with her father, even though she hadn’t planned to and didn’t really want to talk to him. It didn’t seem right, though, for him to be there alone on his first night visiting.

Her father’s BMW was parked in the driveway when Gladwynn arrived. William Grant stepped out of the driver’s side as she placed her car into park. Always dressed as if he was on his way to an important meeting, he wore a pair of square-shaped gold rimmed glasses, gray dress pants, black dress shoes, a button-up white dress shirt and a red tie. He’d at least taken his suit coat off for the four-hour drive. How he hadn’t taken his tie off or at least loosened it was beyond her.

She hadn’t seen him in person since moving to Brookstone nine months earlier. His brown hair was showing even more specks of gray along the hairline and though he’d always been tall and lanky, he seemed even thinner, especially in the face.

He was clean-shaven, as always, and wore a neutral expression as he raised a hand in greeting and then stepped to the trunk of the car and opened it.

“Did you just get here?” she asked as she stepped out of her car.

“About five minutes ago, yes.” He lifted a suitcase from the trunk. “Your grandmother told me neither of you would be here.”

“I changed my mind. I didn’t think it would be nice to expect you to eat alone on your first night here.”

He shut the trunk. “I would have been fine. I know where everything is and can handle warming up a casserole on my own.”

Always so matter of fact. It was one of a few personality traits of his that grated on her nerves. There were many times she wasn’t sure if he was simply being practical, truly didn’t have a feeling one way or another about an issue, or was preparing to scold her.

She bent her ankle back and forth as he lifted the suitcase and walked toward the house, feeling more like a young girl than an independent 28-year-old woman. That was one of the main sticking points of her relationship with her parents. Both of them seemed to forget she was a grown woman now.

William looked over his shoulder from where he was standing on the porch by the front door. “Should I get the key from under the back mat or would you like to open it for me?”

“Oh. Right. Of course.”

With the door unlocked they walked inside and he headed straight for the stairs. “I’m going to put my suitcase upstairs and wash up a bit.”

“I’ll put the casserole in the oven.”

“If you want to.”

She did want to. She was hungry. Resisting the urge to tell him this with a snarky attitude proved a challenge so she literally bit her tongue on the way to the kitchen.

Fifteen minutes later she’d set the table and poured them both a glass of water with ice and lemon. The casserole smelled amazing and Pixel was rubbing against her legs and trilling adorably. She took a moment to video chat with Abbie and ask her how she was doing since they hadn’t had a chance to catch up. By the time they were done chatting – with a few interruptions from Abbie’s youngest – the casserole was ready.

She said goodbye to Abbie, reached down and scratched the top of Pixel’s head as her father walked through the door. He made a face that let her know he did not approve of the cat.

“Mother said you’d brought a cat home. I didn’t know you’d kept it.”

Gladwynn scooped Pixel up, hoping that this time she’d accept a cuddle. Instead the cat launched into her normal reaction to someone trying to cuddle her – twisting all four legs in different directions and wiggling her all-black girth in circles while yowling. Gladwynn dropped her gently to the floor and scratched her head again. “Fine. Don’t let me cuddle you. At least you let me pet you.”

“You let it in the kitchen?”

Gladwynn checked the casserole. “We let her go wherever she wants pretty much.”

“And my mother is fine with this?”

“For the most part, yes. She wasn’t at first but they’ve grown on her.”

He shook his head as he sat at the table. “How times have changed. She didn’t like pets in the house at all when we were growing up.”

Scout peeked in the back window over the sink, her signal that she wanted to come in. Gladwynn chose to ignore her, hoping she could wait until dinner was over so her father didn’t look at her in disgust like he had Pixel. She and her siblings hadn’t been allowed pets growing up and when she’d moved to her own apartment, she’d immediately adopted an older cat from a shelter. The cat had died of old age the year before she moved to Brookstone but she’d been happy she’d been able to give him a safe place to grow old.

William sniffed. “That smells delicious. It was nice of Mother to make dinner before she went to her meeting.” He sipped his water. “She tells me that you skip dinner a lot. That doesn’t sound healthy to me.”

That was a rich comment from him, considering how often the man had worked through dinner while she was growing up, choosing to stay at the office instead of coming home. She considered saying so, but instead set the casserole dish in the center of the table and then retrieved a spoon to dip it out with.

“I do what I have to do. More often than not I am home for supper actually.” She needed to remind Lucinda to not share about her habits with her father anymore.

They each dipped out the casserole and William lifted his fork. Gladwynn coughed softly. “Grandma and I always say grace.”

William nodded curtly. Saying a prayer of blessing before dinner was something they had done as a family when she was younger as well. She wondered if he and her mom had fallen out of that habit since the children had moved away, since he had been ready to eat without saying one.

She spoke a quick prayer and they said “amen” together.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “That was nice.”

They ate in silence for several moments. She wasn’t sure what to say to him and she had a feeling he wasn’t sure what to say to her either. The silence was welcoming, really. She’d expected him to start by scolding her for leaving Carter and not waiting to see if she’d get her job back at the library or find a similar one like he had before she’d accepted the job at the paper.

“So.”

She braced herself.

“Your grandmother says you witnessed something quite difficult a few days ago.”

She took a deep breath. “I didn’t really witness anything difficult necessarily. Just the aftermath of something difficult.”

“The woman was dead, though. That must have been difficult. How are you doing?”

She shrugged her shoulder. “Okay, I guess. I’d love to know who left her in that condition.” She was not about to offer up any of her theories to her dad. He’d most likely quickly dismiss her concerns.

“That reminds me.” He wiped his mouth and laid his napkin down across his lap. “Your grandmother filled me in on the story about that attempted murder case and burglary ring you ended up covering. I thought this job was a simple small town newspaper job. Shouldn’t you be writing about school assemblies, church rummage sales, and municipal meetings?”

“I do write about those things.”

He leveled a stern gaze at her. “But I hear you confronted a murderer.”

You wouldn’t have heard anything if Grandma didn’t have a big mouth. It’s not like I would have told you.

“Attempted murderer. He didn’t actually go through with it.”

Her father held his fork suspended between his plate and mouth. “He was a man who had the mental capability to consider ending another person’s life and you were alone with him on an overlook.”

“Technically, yes, but also, no. A state police trooper was also there part of the time. He was hiding in the bushes.”

“The trooper was in the bushes?”

“Well, yes, because he was listening to the man’s confession. He’s a detective now.”

“The criminal?”

“No. The trooper.”

Her father laid his fork down, rubbed his chin and pursed his lips briefly. “And now someone has actually been murdered and you were a witness?”

“Not a witness, exactly. Doris walked in and found her and I came in after Doris and called the police. We didn’t see the murder happen.”

“You’re not covering the case, are you?”

She took a long drink of water, wishing this conversation was over already. “No, my boss says it would be a conflict of interest since I may be called to testify at a future trial.”

“You’re keeping your nose out of it then, correct?”

Gladwynn sighed and tipped her head back against the chair. “Dad, what’s this conversation really about? I mean, what is really bothering you?”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Gladwynn. What is really bothering me is what the problem really is and that problem is that you are inserting yourself into situations you have nothing to do with. The Brookstone Beacon isn’t The New York Times–

The New York Times isn’t even The New York Times anymore,” Gladwynn mumbled.

William cleared his throat and Gladwynn was starting to wonder if he needed an antihistamine. “What I’m saying is that there is no need for hard-hitting investigative journalism in Brookstone. Let the police handle the investigation and–”

“I cover the news. I know.” Gladwynn folded her arms over her chest, feeling like a child again. “I’m not even covering it. My co-worker is. I merely asked a couple of people a couple of questions about Samantha and if they knew why someone would hurt her. I mean, everyone seemed to adore her. She wasn’t someone that anyone should have wanted to kill and I’m curious what led to her being taken from this world at such a young age.”

“That’s why there are police. They can ask those questions and find out the answers. You, however, can go take a photo at a ribbon cutting or a spelling bee, or somewhere else that doesn’t put you at risk.”

“I’m not putting myself at—”

“Gladwynn, someone killed this woman. Someone who still may be out there. Someone who probably won’t appreciate an upstart reporter snooping around trying to find out who they are.” William folded his napkin. “I know you think your mother and I care more about career than anything else, but that is not true. We care about you very much and don’t want to see you hurt. Your job at the library was right up your alley. It was calm, safe and —”

“And I was laid off, which wasn’t my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t, but you could have waited to see if they hired you back or found a similar job at any other number of colleges.”

“I wanted to try something different with my life, Dad. Is that a crime?”

“I didn’t say it was. All I’m saying is–”

Gladwynn stood abruptly. “All you’re saying is that my job doesn’t meet your expectations of what you think a child of yours should be doing. Well, I’m sorry about that but I like my job and I like the people here and I’m tired of being made to feel like I’m not good enough every time I talk to you.”

“That is not what –”

Gladwynn stalked through the kitchen doorway on her way to the front door. “I’m going back to work.”

“Fine. If you don’t want to continue to hash this out, then run away like you always do.”

She slammed the door and stomped down the front stairs toward her car.

She would never measure up to whatever line her father had drawn for her to measure up to. No matter what she did with her life, it would never be enough for him. At least that was how it felt at this moment. Why his comments and interrogations bothered her so much she had no idea. He had some good points. He and her mother were probably worried about her. Digging into Samantha Mors past probably wasn’t a good idea while her murderer was still out there.

She didn’t know why she felt so desperate to learn why Samantha died. Maybe because they’d been close in age.  Samantha’s opportunity to lead a fulfilling life was ripped from her by someone who felt they had the right to end her life and that angered Gladwynn as much as it broke her heart. The person who’d taken Samantha’s life needed to pay for what they done. While she knew that Tanner was perfectly capable of finding out who the guilty party was, she felt an odd sense of obligation to help him reach his goal.

Starting her car, she growled softly. She was deluding herself. Tanner Kinney didn’t need her help investigating this murder. It was curiosity that was driving her forward. Curiosity and her intense desire to be in control.

The idea that she was able to go through life enjoying sunny days, the laughter of her friend’s children, the smile of her grandmother, and the feel of lake water on her feet while Samantha had had all of that taken away from her broke her heart. She was determined to help however she could even if her father and Tanner didn’t think she should.    

Fiction Friday: Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage Chapter 5

Welcome to the fifth chapter of Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage.

As always this is a work in progress and there could be (will be) typos, plot holes, and other errors but those will be fixed before the book is published a couple of months from now.

If you want to read the first book in the series, you can find it on Amazon HERE.

If you don’t want to read this story in chapters on a blog, you can pre-order it HERE.

If you want to learn more about my other books you can find links to them HERE.

Chapter 5

Gladwynn didn’t have a municipal meeting to cover Monday night so she found herself on her way to Willowbrook theater group’s meeting to discuss what to do about the play in light of Samantha’s death. Tanner had left her a message on her phone the day before during her and Lucinda’s Sunday afternoon nap after church, so now they were playing phone tag.

He caught up to her as she pulled into the parking lot of the community center, his voice stern when she answered with a cheerful ‘hello’. “Miss Grant, I’ve told you before that I’m not free to discuss the case.”

“Wow. That was a nice greeting.”

“I just know you.”

“I called you because I remembered something I forgot to tell you Saturday. Something that might be important to the case. You told me to call you if I remembered something.”

“In that case, go ahead.”

Gladwynn slid the car into park. “I saw Samantha at the lake on Saturday afternoon. She was talking on the phone to someone and definitely looked agitated.”

“Okay. I’ll write that down.”

“Do you think it’s important?”

“It might be. What time was it?”

“Around 11 a.m. She looked very angry and seemed to be yelling.”

“Did you see anything else?”

Yes, she’d seen Samantha talking to Luke in the parking lot, but doubted that was important. Still, she should probably say something. “I saw her talking to Pastor Luke in the parking lot of the swimming area a couple hours later.”

She could hear the scratch of a pen against paper. “Pastor Luke. Right. I’ll add him to my list of people to talk to. Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of. Do you have her cellphone? Maybe you could see who she was talking –”

“Are you a police officer, Miss Grant?”

“No, but I –”

“We will handle the investigation on our end. Patience is a virtue. Remember?”

Gladwynn flipped open a small makeup mirror and checked her foundation, smoothing down a bumpy area along her cheekbones. “It just seems so odd that a woman who seemed so healthy is dead. I mean, I guess it could be a medical reason but something about the way she was lying there tells me it wasn’t.”

The click of keys on a keyboard on the other end of the phone filled a brief silence. “Young people die for unclear medical reasons all the time. Many people seem healthy. It doesn’t mean they are.”

“Right, but she wasn’t very old really. What, like 29? Maybe 30? So, it just seems to me that –”

“Actually, she was 36, but you don’t need to be seeming anything, Gladwynn. What you need to do is go on with your life and let me handle this. Go to work or to your little coffee shop or shopping or whatever you do all day long. You are not part of this investigation.”

Gladwynn paused briefly, thinking how much younger Samantha had looked than 36. A few seconds later, though, it registered what Tanner had said. “My little coffee shop? Shopping?” Gladwynn raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me, but that was a bit of a sexist comment. As if women just go to coffee shops and shop all day long.”

Tanner cleared his throat. “I apologize. It was just a way of saying that you can return to whatever it was you were doing before I called you. I’m sure you were busy at work.”

Gladwynn smirked. “Actually, I just left Penny’s on Main Street looking for shoes, but that is beside the point. I don’t like the idea that you think all women do is shop and go to coffee shops.”

Tanner sighed and she could imagine him with his hand pressed against his forehead. “I suggested you go back to work, first, so calm yourself.”

Gladwynn laughed softly. “Okay. Fine. I’ll go. I have important things to do anyhow. If you find out who called her, you’ll tell me, though, right?”

The line went dead.

Inside the theater, the mood was considerably subdued compared to the gathering on Saturday evening. No one was trying on costumes or arguing about who was playing what parts. Everyone except Emerald was sitting in a seat at the front of the theater.

Emerald stood in front of the seats, wearing a flowing green dress covered in dark green leaves. Her hair was held back from her face with a pair of monarch butterfly barrettes. It was clear she planned to take the lead in the conversation, directing it until a decision was made about whether to continue with the play or not.

“Personally, I think the show must go on,” she declared, clasping her hand at chest level in front of her. The movement made the sheer fabric of her sleeves slide down and Gladwynn caught sight of the edge of an ace bandage around her wrist. “Samantha would have wanted it that way.”

There were a few nods of heads in the group.

“It might be better to postpone it,” Louise said softly. “I mean, is it disrespectful to carry on as if nothing happened?”

She looked at Lucinda. “What do you think, Lucinda?”

Lucinda frowned and rubbed her chin with her hand. “It will be hard for us to continue without Samantha. She was such an important part of this group and our driving force. I don’t find it disrespectful, though, to continue with the performance. Emerald is right. Samantha would have wanted us to carry on. If anything, we would be honoring her creative and encouraging spirit by continuing.”

Gladwynn knew her grandmother’s opinion carried a lot of weight in her own family but the way everyone looked at Lucinda with clear respect as she talked reminded Gladwynn that her opinion carried a lot of weight in the community as well.

“Lucinda is right,” Floyd said. “I say we carry on. I don’t know why she said anything about Samantha and a driving fort but I’m guessing it was metaphorical.”

Gladwynn stifled a giggle behind her hand. Clearly, Floyd’s hearing aid wasn’t working again. Guilt poked at her for feeling like laughing during such a serious conversation. Samantha, a friend of most of the people in this theater, had died possibly under suspicious circumstances. Wanting to laugh about anything right now simply felt wrong.

Emerald drew in a quick breath. “Okay, then. I think we’re all in agreement. The show will go on. Rehearsals start tomorrow night.”

A sharp-toned voice spoke up. “Do we have the extra scripts that Samantha had at her house, though? And her notes?”

Gladwynn glanced down her row and saw the question had come from Martha.

Emerald’s face fell. “No, we don’t actually. Thank you for reminding me. Samantha had all those.”

The group, which had seemed to have gathered new life and excitement a moment before returned to their downcast state.  Gladwynn couldn’t imagine that any of them wanted to go to Samantha’s to retrieve them and Eileen didn’t seem like the most pleasant person to deal with, but — .

“I’ll ask Eileen if she’s seen them or if I can go get them,” she said quickly.

The entire group looked at her, relief on many of their faces. Lucinda looked at her with a grateful expression, reached over and squeezed her hand.

Gladwynn didn’t relish the idea of returning to Samantha’s apartment but she also couldn’t imagine someone who had known her as well as most of the people in the group had having to go in there after what had happened. She’d go to the retirement community manager’s office the next day and see if Eileen could help her.

She wouldn’t mind getting another look at the place anyhow. There might be a clue that she, or the police, had missed. A clue that would prove that Samantha died either from an accident or from foul play.

The meeting lasted another fifteen minutes and then the members split apart to different parts of the theater — either to discuss the set, costumes, or the script itself. Gladwynn, still not ready to commit to playing a part, avoided the actors and followed Lucinda to the prop closet down behind the stage and down the hall.

The closet was a walk-in and larger than Gladwynn had expected. It also featured some old musical instruments, what looked like old marching band uniforms, various decorations, art supplies, and rolls of fabric.

Lucinda began unfurling fabric. “Floyd and his wife have offered again this year to help with the set. Their grandson owns a construction company and Martha — you remember that’s his wife’s name. So not the other Martha. Well, anyhow, his Martha was an art teacher for 25 years so she’s going to paint some beautiful scenery for us. You weren’t here last summer but she painted this gorgeous sunset we used for our performance of Oklahoma.” She unfurled a roll of fabric with pink roses all over it. “This one might work for Anne’s dress. The one with the puffed sleeves.” She reached out to touch a blue fabric with a silkier look to it. “Or maybe this one. I’m grateful for Doris’ sewing skills. I can sew, but not as well as I can knit.”

She hooked both rolls of fabric under each arm. “I’ll be right back. I want to show Doris these and see which one she thinks will work. Can you pull out some fake flowers for us? They are in those bins back there. We’re going to need them for the set. Look for some purple and white lilies if you see any.”

Gladwynn set to work pulling out the large, red bins on the bottom shelf in the back of the closet. She knelt and popped open the lid. A musty smell rushed at her and she made a face, leaning back from it.

No lilies in this one. Only some faded flowers that looked like they’d been pulled off a gravestone after six months of laying in the sun.

She closed the lid and slid out another bin.

“She must love finally being in control. She always wanted Samantha’s job and now she has it.”

Gladwynn recognized the voice outside the door as Martha’s.

Someone else, possibly Louise, sighed. “I suppose this means we will have to hear even more stories about all those years she supposedly worked on Broadway.”

Martha scoffed. “I’m sure we will. You know those stories are all garbage. There is no way she worked on Broadway. If she had we would have heard of her.”

“I don’t know,” the other woman said. “Depends on what she did but I don’t think she did anything.

“Didn’t she say she was an assistant to some famous director?” Martha asked.

There was a small laugh. “Yeah, more than once. Can’t remember which one, though.”

“She never said who.” Martha launched into a dramatic impression of Emerald. “’Sharing who would be bragging,’ she said. More like, sharing who would be proof that her stories are completely made up.”

“And she bragged enough even without the name dropping.”

The voices began to fade as the women started to walk back down the hallway. “If any of it is true then it must have drove her crazy that Samantha took over as director,” Martha said.

Gladwynn stood slowly and moved to the doorway, backing against the wall, and straining to hear the rest of the conversation.

“It probably also drove her crazy that Samantha’s personality was a hundred times more appealing,” responded the voice who she could clearly tell was Louise’s now. “That’s what mattered. She encouraged instead of bullied.” Louise sighed. “I hate that we are talking about her in the past tense.”

Martha’s voice fell to a whisper, losing its usual vibrato. “Me too, honey. Me too.”

Gladwynn returned to looking for flowers, deep in thought.

Had Emerald been jealous of Samantha? Jealous enough to hurt her in some way?

She opened another lid and shook her head. No, she wasn’t going to do this again. She wasn’t going to wrap herself up in a mystery that was not hers to solve.

There was no evidence at this point that anything criminal had happened to Samantha. She could have had a heart attack or a stroke or accidentally taken too many pills. Hadn’t there been a pill bottle on the bedside table? Gladwynn closed her eyes briefly and tried to remember. Yes, she thought she could remember one there. A small one that looked like a prescription bottle.

That very well could have been it. Maybe she’d been upset by Derek’s passing and had purposely taken too many pills. It was a horrible thought but suicide, sadly, happened more often than people wanted to admit. She spotted a strand of lilies that could be wrapped around a piece of the set to look like a row of them. Pulling it from the box she laid them aside and dug for more.

As she dug, the image of Samanth’s face in death swirled uninvited in her mind. To Gladwynn her expression had seemed to be one of shock. And the way her body was contorted, her hand reaching out toward the door? Had Samantha been reaching toward someone? Maybe that happened when the contents of too many pills hit a person’s system. Maybe Samantha had regretted what she’d done and was trying to get to a phone to call for help.

Then there was the knocked over lamp and the piece of paper crumpled on the floor. Could Samantha had knocked over the lamp when the drugs started to take effect and as she fell?

 Gladwynn wished now she had picked the paper up and looked at it closer. Had Samantha been writing something when she died? A suicide note? If it had been a note, wouldn’t she have written it before she took the pills?

She piled more flowers next to her as Lucinda walked back into the closet with the fabric.

“Doris says this blue one will work perfectly so I’m going to take this one home. Now we just need to find a pattern to use. I bet I can find one online. Etsy would be a great place to look. Or maybe Pinterest. I saw one on a cottage core account on Instagram the other day too.”

Gladwynn turned her head to hide her smile. She’d never met a 70-year-old woman so up on the internet and social media as her grandmother.

“Oh wonderful!” Lucinda clapped her hands together. “You found some beautiful lilies. They will look so lovely in front of the Green Gables set.” She paused for a moment. “Gladwynn dear, you have that look on your face again.”

Gladwynn glanced at her grandmother as she placed a lid back on one of the bins. “What look?”

“Your eyebrows are all squished down and your lips are pursed and there is a tightness to your jaw.”

Gladwynn had no idea her expressions were so dramatic.

“What are you thinking about? Is it your father’s visit?”

She’d completely forgotten about her father’s visit. Wonderful. Now she would be thinking about it. “No. It’s nothing. It must have just been my searching face. I had no idea you sat there and analyzed my expressions.” She stood and smoothed her shirt down over her slacks. “I have to be honest that I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

Lucinda stepped closer, her eyes boring into Gladwynn’s. “It’s about Samantha isn’t it? Are you still thinking about what you saw?” She set the scissors she’d been holding down and cradled Gladwynn’s face in her hands. “I’m sure it was traumatizing and I know we talked about it some already but if you need to talk more you know I’m here for you, right?”

Gladwynn nodded. “Yes, Grandma, I know. I’m okay, but, yes, I’ve been thinking about her death and what I saw. I’m just processing. That’s all.”

Lucinda kissed her forehead. “I hate that you and Doris had to be the ones to find her.” She tipped her head toward the door and took her hands off Gladwynn’s face “Come on. Let’s get out of here and go grab a sweet treat at Brewed Awakening. It’s just what we all need.”

“Have you seen my hips lately? I’m not really sure sweets are what I need, but I could get a coffee.”

Lucinda frowned. “Honey, I would absolutely love to have those hips. They’re fine. Believe me. But coffee? At this time of the night?”

Gladwynn shrugged her shoulder. “It doesn’t bother me.”

Lucinda sighed as she closed the closet door behind her. “Ah to be young and unafraid of coffee after six again.”

It was obvious that Lucinda hadn’t been the only one who’d thought a sweet treat at Brewed Awakening was a good idea. It was only an hour before closing but the café and bookshop were both packed.

Abbie wasn’t working that night, but Marylou, the owner, was and she had a friendly smile for them despite the apparent hectic appearance of her business.

Gladwynn looked over her shoulder at the crowd. “What’s the occasion? This place is packed tonight.”

Marylou tightened the scrunchie around her ponytail. Her dark brown hair was streaked with gray and Gladwynn also saw a few streaks of purple, which denoted Marylou’s young-at-heart attitude. “It’s a fundraiser for the library. Half of my proceeds are supporting the purchase of new books for the children’s section.”

“Oh, that’s right! I forgot that was tonight!” Lucinda said. “In that case we’ll take an extra pastry each!”

Doris shook her head. “Speak for yourself. I’ll take two extra.” She winked. “I can take one home to the mister.”

With their treats in hand, but the café seats all taken, they decided to find a bench outside. The town of Brookstone featured benches dedicated in the memory of former residents along its Main Street. They chose the one was dedicated in the memory of Gladwynn’s grandfather, Sidney, who had been a minister in town for almost 50 years. The black metal bench sat in front of Rose Buds, a local flower shop.

“It’s nice you had a night off work, Gladwynn,” Doris said opening the bag with her pastry.

Lucinda had already taken out her pastry – a strudel with raspberry — and unwrapped it. “It’s not a usual thing, that’s for sure. This poor girl works almost every night until 9 or 10 p.m. She has no time for a social life.”

Gladwynn sipped her coffee and leaned back on the bench, crossing one leg over the other. “And what kind of social life do you think I should have?”

“I don’t know. Didn’t you have friends you hung out with back in Carter?”

The strudel did look good. Gladwynn wished she had chosen one. “Yes, some, but most of them were getting married and having children so there wasn’t a lot of time to hang out anymore. Savanah is still single and we talk from time to time, but she’s also very busy at the library. After they laid me off, they put a lot more on her.”

“It would be nice if Gladwynn had more time to see Pastor Luke,” Doris said breaking off a piece of the pastry. She took a bite, oblivious to Gladwynn looking at her with a confused expression and Lucinda looking at her with a warning expression.

“Why would I want to spend more time with Luke?”

Doris continued to eat. “Because you two hit it off so well that one time he came over for lunch. Then there was the trip down to Sight & Sound and – ouch! Lucinda! You’re digging your elbow into my ribs.”

Gladwynn looked at her grandmother and watched a scowl quickly turn into an innocent smile.

Lucinda nodded at the cup of coffee in Gladwynn’s hand. “How’s your coffee, dear? Enough cream and sugar in there for you?”

“Grandma, I really –”

Lucinda raised her hand in a greeting. “Oh, Eileen! Hello! How nice to see you this evening.”

Eileen stopped walking abruptly, clearly startled. To Gladwynn she looked like a frightened rabbit as she pulled her jacket close around her neck. The night was cooler than some nights but not cool enough for a jacket in Gladwynn’s opinion. The woman’s appearance was a drastic change from the impatient and flustered property manager she’d met at Samantha’s two days before.

“I-I’m fine.” Eileen straightened her hunched shoulders and offered a brief smile. “Lovely to see you too, Lucinda.”

Lucinda seemed oblivious to what Gladwynn saw as Eileen’s discomfort and plowed forward. “Eileen, we noticed this evening that we don’t have some of the scripts and notes we need for the play. We believe Samantha had them. Is there any way we can get to them you think?”

Eileen visibly paled, lowered her gaze to the sidewalk, and coughed softly. “Um, yes. Of course. The police released the scene, um, the condo today. If you come over tomorrow, I’ll take you over there to see if we can find them.” She nodded quickly. “I’m heading home to feed my cats. You ladies have a nice evening.”

She walked quickly past them, avoiding making eye contact and shoving one hand in her jacket pocket while the other kept the top of the jacket closed.

Doris took another bite of her pastry, speaking with her mouth full. “She was a bit squirrely, don’t you think?”

Lucinda shrugged. “Eileen’s always been a bit – well, different.”

Doris snorted a laugh. “You’re always so good at sugar-coating things, Lucinda. She’s always been a bit uptight. Let’s be honest.”

“A bit, yes,” Lucinda conceded. “Anyhow, let’s finish up our treats. I need to get home to bed. I have spin class at 7 a.m., a hair appointment at 9, a library board meeting at 10, a drop off to the loan closet at 11, a trip to the supermarket after that and then lunch with Jacob at noon.”

Gladwynn paused, the coffee cup partway to her mouth, her eyes wide at the extensive list her grandmother had just rattled off. “Don’t you ever slow down?”

Lucinda made a face. “Why would I want to? At my age I’d better keep going or I’ll rust.”

Back in the car, Gladwynn couldn’t help thinking about Eileen’s strange behavior. Or at least it seemed strange to Gladwynn. She’d only met the woman once before. Still, even Doris thought Eileen had been acting a bit, well, squirrely, as Doris had put it. She’d certainly seemed on edge. What Gladwynn wanted to know was if she was on edge because someone she knew had just died or if she was on edge because she was somehow involved with that death.


 

Fiction Friday: Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage Chapter 4

Welcome to the fourth chapter of Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage.

As always this is a work in progress and there could be (will be) typos, plot holes, and other errors but those will be fixed before the book publishes a couple of months from now.

If you want to read the first book in the series, you can find it on Amazon HERE.

If you don’t want to read this story in chapters on a blog, you can pre-order it HERE.

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Chapter 4

“Grant. Where are you? A resident at Willowbrook just called and said there are cop cars all over the place.”

Once again Gladwynn was impressed how her boss, Managing Editor Liam Finley, seemed to know everything that was going on and also seemed to never leave his office at the newspaper.  She wondered if he handed his personal cellphone out to everyone he met so they could call him 24/7 with any breaking news.

“I’m at Willowbrook now and there are, yes.”

“You’re there?”

“I am, but I’m leaving right now.”

“So, fill me in. What are you seeing?”

“There are indeed police cars here. There’s been a death in one of the condos. Possibly suspicious.”

“Whoa. Who is it? Any ideas? One of the old folks?”

“No. A young folk, actually. Samantha Mors.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone, followed up by a curse word. “No way. I did not expect that.”

“Did you know her?”

“Not exactly, no. I met her at a bar once. Saw her off and on around town after that. Gorgeous woman. Sweet too. Wanted nothing to do with me no matter how hard I tried.”

Gladwynn shook her head, and stifled a laugh, glad Liam couldn’t see her. The man was well-known countywide for his bar visits and his love of women. Lots of women.

“Were you there?” he asked. “I mean, at Willowbrook when the cops were there?”

She didn’t know how much she should share at this point, but Liam was going to find out eventually anyhow. “A friend of mine found her actually. I was the second person on scene.” She glanced at Doris as she started the car. “It’s been pretty upsetting for her and me. How about I give you a call after I get her home?”

“You saw the body?” Liam whistled. “Oh man, Grant. I’m sorry you had to see that. Yeah. Totally call me back later and let’s hammer out a plan of action for tomorrow’s paper. Sadly, you’re a bit too close to the case to cover it. We’d better have Laurel handle it from here.”

At that moment Gladwynn felt like a real reporter because under no circumstances did she want to give up this story. “Why are you giving it to Laurel? This is my story.”

“Hate to break it to you, kid, but it’s not your story. You’re part of the story. Conflict of interest. Call me later.”

The line disconnected. Gladwynn scowled at the phone briefly then flipped it into her middle console.

Doris let out a breath. “Oh, Gladwynn, honey, I’m glad you don’t have to cover this story. What a hard job reporting is.”

Gladwynn shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah, sometimes, but the hard stories are mixed in with a lot of happy stories. Like little kids at field days and church dinners. It all evens out in the end.”

The drive to Doris’ house was quiet after that with Doris looking out the window contemplatively.

After escorting Doris into her house, brewing her a cup of tea, and sitting with her for half an hour to be sure she was okay, Gladwynn headed back home to call Liam and connect with Lucinda.

Lucinda was in the kitchen brewing a pot of tea and loading chocolate chip cookies onto a plate when Gladwynn walked in with the phone to her ear.

She filled Liam in on the details she felt like she could fill him in on, mainly that Tanner was the lead investigator and that there was no conclusive evidence as of yet that there was any foul play in Samantha’s death. She chose not to offer any specific details about the condition or  position of Samantha’s body and, thankfully, he didn’t ask. A photo she’d taken on her cellphone of the police cars and ambulance parked outside of the condo would work for a photograph for the story, he told her.

Lucinda pulled her into a hug as soon as she slid her finger over the button to end the call. “He’s not going to make you write about this horrible thing, is he?”

“No. He’s giving it to Laurel. He said my covering it would be a conflict of interest.”

Lucinda leaned back and pushed a strand of dark hair back from Gladwynn’s face. “Good. You were involved enough as it was with that mess with Daryl Stabler. This would be even worse since you were right there to find her. I just can’t believe it. How are you holding up?”

Gladwynn sighed and sat at the kitchen table, pouring herself some tea. “Okay, I guess. I’m more worried about Doris. The poor woman. She was really shaken.” She winced as she spooned some honey out of the jar. “Rightly so. It was awful to see Samantha that way. I hadn’t met her officially yet, but I saw her earlier today at the lake. It was so weird to see someone you’d seen alive only a few hours earlier dead in her bedroom floor.” Gladwynn shuddered. “Weird and awful.”

Lucinda sat in the chair on the other side of her. “What does Tanner think? Does he really think she was murdered?”

“He doesn’t know yet. He said there are aspects of the scene that are suspicious but he wouldn’t elaborate on what.”

Lucinda pushed the plate of cookies toward her. “Well, it doesn’t matter. The police will release some information soon enough. I’m just so glad you don’t have to worry about it anymore. Laurel can fill you in later or you can read it in the newspaper like the rest of us.”

Gladwynn nodded absentmindedly. It still bothered her that Liam had given the story to Laurel, but she knew he was right. It wouldn’t look right for her to write about a situation she’d been directly involved with, even if she personally had no idea what had happened to Samantha nor had she known her.

Still, she couldn’t push away the uneasy feeling that Samantha’s death wasn’t an accident and she would love to find out if that feeling was accurate or not.

“What are they going to do about the play?” she asked, trying to forget the image of Samantha in that floor.

Lucinda stirred creamer in her tea. “They aren’t sure yet but I think we should continue it in Samantha’s honor. Incorporating the arts into the activities of the older population was very important to her. We’re all meeting Monday night to make the final decision.”

A tear slipped down Lucinda’s cheek. Gladwynn reached over and squeezed her hand. She wanted to tell her it was okay, but it wasn’t okay. It was horrible and heartbreaking that Samantha had passed away. It would be even more heartbreaking if she had passed away because of something someone else did.

Lucinda cleared her throat. “I just can’t believe that this happened right after Derek passed away. He and Samantha were so close. When I heard about what happened I just kept worrying that maybe  — no. I can’t think that. It’s just, she was so down about his death. What if she – ” Lucinda shook her head and dabbed a tissue to the corner of her eye.

Gladwynn rubbed her grandmother’s shoulder. Der. Those were the letters she’d seen on the piece of paper at Samantha’s. “Who was Derek?”

Lucinda looked up from her tea. “Oh right. I guess I ever told you about him. He moved here a couple of years ago. He was such a kind man. I wish you could have met him. He was the one who made sure the little library was stocked and we had all we needed for badminton and tennis. He purchased all that equipment. I’m guessing he had some money, but I don’t know.” She wiped her nose. “He just had such a kind heart. He died two weeks ago. None of us even knew he was sick, but, well, it is a retirement home so residents do die more often than other places. He and Samantha were very close. It’s like they connected right away when she started. They used to play cards together and he always helped her with her various recreation events. They had lunches together and we’d often see them reading books out in the courtyard.”

She took a sip of her tea. “Anyhow, I think we both need a little break from that topic. Jacob is going to come over for dinner after church tomorrow. I hope that’s okay.”

Gladwynn raised an eyebrow. “Grandma, this is your house.  You can invite whomever you want over. You don’t have to ask me permission to have your boyfriend over. Plus, Jacob still owes me a rematch at Chess.”

Gladwynn had slowly become accustomed to Jacob Evans being a regular site at the old Victorian home she and her grandmother lived in. He was often there for dinners or movie nights or simply to repair something around the home. Gladwynn had only learned about their relationship when she moved in so she wasn’t sure how long the pair had been dating.

Seeing her grandmother going out on dates with someone other than Gladwynn’s late grandfather Sidney Grant had been unsettling at first. Sidney had passed away six years ago, though, and he wouldn’t have wanted Lucinda to live the rest of her life without a companion.

Lucinda rolled her eyes. “Don’t call him my boyfriend. That sounds so  – I don’t know – teenagerish.”

Gladwynn snorted out a laugh. “But he is your boyfriend.”

Lucinda waved her hand briefly as she took a sip of tea. “Let’s be honest, you just want him over because you’re just desperate to figure out how he keeps beating you at chess. Admit it.”

“I completely am. It’s not fair. I was Chess champion three years in a row in my dorm at college. I don’t get how he’s so fast!”

Lucinda laughed and broke a cookie in half, handing one half to Gladwynn. “Years and years of practice, my dear, I’m sure. Remember he told you he used to play it in the barracks during Vietnam.”

Gladwynn finished her cookie and stood. “Liam wants me in the office so it looks like our movie night will have to be delayed. There isn’t much information I can provide him with since I’m being considered a witness, but I’ll head in and fill him on what I can so Laurel has a head start on the story.”

“That’s absolutely fine. We can always do it tomorrow after church.”

Gladwynn kissed Lucinda’s cheek. “You usually fall asleep after lunch so let’s do it in the evening instead.”

Lucinda looked up and quirked an eyebrow. “Let’s be honest, young lady. We both fall asleep after lunch.”

The woman was right, of course. Gladwynn had become accustomed to finishing her grandmother’s delicious meals and then curling up under a blanket in the living room and dozing off for a nap. She knew how spoiled she was and she didn’t feel guilty about it at all.

***

She called Tanner’s number at the barracks on the way to the office. He wasn’t there but she left him a message asking him to call her. Maybe the conversation Samantha had been having was unrelated. Maybe she was arguing with a bill collector. Still, she knew Tanner would want to know about it.

The Brookstone Beacon office was quiet with less staff there on a Saturday night than during the week. The buzz of the fluorescent lights was the loudest sound as Gladwynn made her way to Liam’s office. Liam’s appearance, and his office, was in its usual state — empty takeout containers scattered among loose papers on top of his desk and on the small table in the corner of the office; a black leather coat tossed across the couch against the wall to the right; Liam’s dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows; and his jawline unshaven.

He was typing fast when she stepped into the doorway. He didn’t look away from the computer screen, even when she sat in the chair across from his desk.

When he did turn to face her, he swiveled in his chair quickly and spoke in his usual clipped manner. “Grant. Hello. Tell me everything.”

She filled him in on what she hadn’t been able to talk about in front of Doris, without going into too many details. He listened with his hands propped behind his head, eyes narrowed, leaning slightly back in his chair.

When she was done, he kept his hands behind his head and nodded, looking wistfully at a spot on the wall above her head. “Sad thing. Sam was a good woman. I worked at a newspaper in Philly [lh1] for a few years and she said she’d grown up there. That’s about as far in the conversation as we got. She brushed me off pretty fast.” He shrugged and focused his gaze back on Gladwynn. “Anyhow, fill Benton in on this and then get out of here. I’m sure it wasn’t easy seeing all that. Good thinking on getting a shot for the front too.” He dropped his hands on the desk, then pointed at her. “Make sure Kinney knows we get first dibs on this story too. I better not see one of the TV stations up north or down south with this story tonight.”

She knew up north meant the small NBC affiliate over the border in New York state and down south meant a group of televisions stations in the central part of the state. They were more competition than the local shoppers and small publications called “penny savers” in the area. Those publications were more about ads than news and even though all newspapers needed ads, Liam only focused on who could compete with his paper on the news side of things.

Gladwynn was certain the man had been born with actual ink running in his veins.

She stood and smiled. “I can’t control what information the state police release and to whom, but I’ll pass on your desire to have the scoop.”

Liam winced. “Grant. No one says,” he formed quotes with his fingers “scoop anymore. Stop reading those 1940 crime novels. Capeesh?”

“Capeesh.”

The sound of one of the 90s style phones that the newspaper used for its landlines slamming back in place echoed up the hallways from Laurel Benton’s desk when Gladwynn walked back.

She had a feeling Laurel wasn’t having a good day – most likely due to a source who wouldn’t return her calls.

Laurel had a few rough edges but not so rough that she and Gladwynn weren’t able to form a type of friendship. Their personalities were very different, but somehow, they clicked enough that Laurel had gone from gossiping about Gladwynn when she first arrived to now inviting her to lunch from time to time.

Gladwynn peered around the wall of Laurel’s cubicle slowly. Laurel’s head was tipped down, her straight dark brown hair hanging down across her face, a few strands of gray streaked through the dark brown, a reminder to Gladwynn that the woman was 10 years her senior.

For a second Gladwynn thought Laurel might be crying, but she’d never seen her even close to crying so when Laurel looked up at her with cheeks flushed and eyes narrowed, she knew it was anger that had her head hanging down, not sadness.

“Are we sure it’s illegal to kill a man who merely lives to make your life a living hell?”

Gladwynn had a feeling Laurel was talking about her ex-husband Lance Brewster, fire chief of the Birchwood Fire Department. Their divorce had been finalized only a few months ago and Gladwynn hadn’t said it to either of them, but she had a feeling that deep down they were both still in love with each other. Of course, that may have merely been Gladwynn’s romantic side speaking, because at this moment Laurel wanted to murder Lance.

Laurel practically growled as she spoke. “He never signed the papers. Can you believe that?”

Gladwynn leaned her side against the cubicle. “Never signed the divorce papers you mean?”

“Yes. My lawyer called the other day and said part of the papers weren’t signed.” Laurel pushed her hands through her hair and held them there, at the top of her head, for several seconds. “I’ve been trying to reach him for three days and he will not pick up. I thought I’d try from here instead of my cellphone and maybe he’d actually answer, but I should have known he’d ignore a call from the paper.”

She really should have known since Lance had told Gladwynn that Laurel’s job at the newspaper was one of the biggest contentions in the marriage. Gladwynn briefly considered pointing that out, but thought better of it.

Instead, she said, “I don’t get it. I thought you said it was final. That’s why you go by Benton now instead of Brewster.”

Laurel tossed her hands up. “I was told it was final. I can’t even believe this! How did my lawyer not even check the paperwork? Or should I say my ex-lawyer since Lance is apparently not my ex-husband like he is supposed to be.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Take those stupid papers to Lance and tell him to finish signing where he was supposed to.” She let out a long breath. “Sorry. I know you haven’t had the best of days yourself. Fill me in on what you can and I’ll call the state police for the rest.”

Gladwynn relayed what she had told Liam. When she was done Laurel let out a whistle. “Wow. So do they really think she was murdered? I mean, I wonder why someone would even do that to her.”

“Did you know her?”

“Met her a couple of times, but, no, I didn’t really know her well. She seemed like a super nice person so I really hope she wasn’t killed.”

“Liam says I’m out on this one, but I’d love to know what Tanner says the coroner tells him. Fill me in, will you?”

“Definitely will but it’s better you’re not covering it. You’re too close to it all. Trust me. There was a fatal fire a few years ago and it was someone my family had known for years. Our old editor told me he didn’t want to pay for my therapy so I wasn’t allowed to go and cover it. Who knows. Maybe this will all turn out to be an accident and we won’t have to worry about it anyhow.”

As she headed home later, Gladwynn hoped Laurel was right. She hoped that she’d get a call later that told her Samantha Mors hadn’t died under suspicious circumstances. It would still be hard for Doris, her grandmother, and others from the community to deal with her death, but at least they wouldn’t have the added sadness that she had been murdered.