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.

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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.

Sunday Bookends: Fall weather mixed with summer weather, mood reading, and comfort watching


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’s Been Occurring

Friday and yesterday were busy for me so I did not have a lot of time to write a Saturday Afternoon Chat post. That means I’ll share a little more here this week about what has been occurring.

Last week’s weather was gorgeous so Little Miss and I spent time outside and on the neighbor’s trampoline part of it.

I took photographs of the leaves while we were up by the trampoline, especially on Friday when Little Miss had a couple of her friends over.

I had never really looked to see where the little woods behind our outbuilding and our neighbor’s shed go but on Friday I could see that it leads to the backyards of the houses on another street. The woods are a little deeper further to the left and even further out they are deeper still.

I would guess the deer that show up in our backyard come from the deeper woods that lead out of town. Our one neighbor feeds the deer, which is actually illegal, and I’ve considered calling the Game Commission on him several times but two weeks ago his wife died and now I can’t bring myself to do it.

After talking to him one day this week I learned she’s been sick for a while now after a freak accident two years ago when she fell and hit her head. I wonder if he wanted the deer to come down so she could see them from the kitchen window. I get annoyed with the deer being in our yard and the yards of my neighbors because with White-Tailed Deer in Pennsylvania come deer ticks. I have two friends who died from complications from untreated Lyme, some family friends who were hit hard by it (one still deals with chronic Lyme), and my dad dealt with Lyme several years ago and is still suffering from the effects of it.

I will pray we can keep ourselves safe from the ticks so my neighbor can still see the deer while he mourns his wife. My neighbor is elderly and sometimes complains about everything when I talk to him, including the neighbors I am close to. Because he said some disparaging things about my neighbors, who have become friends, I am never anxious to talk to him but I took a container of homemade chicken noodle soup to him on Wednesday night anyhow. He was very appreciative, even as he tried to launch into a series of complaints about a variety of things.

Yesterday he returned the container with a post-it note on top.

“God bless you. Thank you.” And he signed his name.

It melted my heart.

I think he needed that act of kindness right now whether he’s always been kind or not himself.

So, as another act of kindness, I’m going to try to tolerate the deer in our backyards and hope they don’t cause an accident on the street and treat the pets with tick medicine and us with tick spray.

Little Miss and her friends had a lot of fun playing with the leaves and jumping on the trampoline Friday. I had fun having what felt like a real autumn experience. It was a nice warm day and I didn’t have the weird symptoms I sometimes have when the weather is cold and the pressure is low.

The girls were able to see each other again last night when we went trick-or-treating with them in their town, which is about a 40-minute drive from us. There was a Trunk-or-Treat and then a costume competition that I attended, but after that The Husband walked with Little Miss and her friends and parents around town and I sat in the car and enjoyed some coveted reading time.

Today I am going to see my parents for the afternoon. It is supposed to rain all day and the temperature will be dropping, which makes me sad because on Wednesday I am supposed to take Little Miss to a reptile zoo an hour from us. She absolutely loves reptiles and I had no idea this place was so big so I am excited to take her. It is a trip with the library. I do see we might get some – I can’t even say the word – that wet, cold, white stuff that day so we will see how it goes. I hope the trip isn’t canceled.

What I/we’ve been Reading

I did not have as much time to read this past week as I had hoped. I was editing and revising Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage so it can be edited and proofread or spending time outside much of the week.

That is why the books I am reading are the books I was reading the week before. It also doesn’t help that I am a mood reader. I may have started a book and be enjoying it but there are some days when a book simply doesn’t fit my mood. For example, I am reading one book that I like very much but the subject matter can be heavy. There is a boy who saw his mother murdered and is in foster care, a woman who used to be a prostitute, and a man whose wife was murdered. The writing in the book is amazing but there are times I don’t feel I’m emotionally stable to read the book. The writer is very good so I feel like I’m living the book and there are days I don’t want to live that and then go to bed thinking about it.

Those are the days I am glad to be able to read books with my 9-year-old, like The Black Stallion which we started last week.

Have you ever read the book?

I never have but I have seen the movie. Several times. I have always loved it.

So far, I am really enjoying the book, though we are at the part on the island and that can be a bit tedious. I am looking forward to when they get rescued. The problem is, my daughter is also a mood reader so the nights I am in the mood to read to her from one book, she wants something completely different. When she feels insecure or has overheard something scary from the news, she wants to go to her comfort reads – much like I do. This past week those comfort reads were Paddington and Fortunately the Milk by Neil Gaiman. Actually, we listen to Fortunately the Milk usually. Sometimes she reads to me from the book and it is so entertaining to hear her trying to do the British accents. I always do the accents of the characters in the books so she feels like she has to as well but I have been reminding her that her mother is an old lady whose practiced accents a long time. She’s just starting so she’ll get better at it as she grows.

Back to my reading, I’ve been bouncing between three books but this week I am focusing on one, finishing it and then the next one.

I had been bouncing between Walls Crumbling by Alicia Gilliam, Polly by Naomi Musch, and When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit by Judith Kerr.

This week I plan to finish Polly, then finish When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit and then finish Walls Crumbling.

I also want to finish The Red Badge of Courage, which I am listening to with my son, and Death at the Seaside, which I have also been listening to. I have about 40 minutes in both the books and I am certain I’ll be doing dishes this week so I’ll have time to listen.

I looked at the books I said I wanted to read this autumn last week and would love to a couple more books from that list by mid-November. Then I want to start my winter list, which will include Little Women. I hope to stretch that book out into the long, dark months that come with winter in Pennsylvania. It will be my first time reading it.

What We watched/are Watching

Last week I watched Rebecca for the Comfy, Cozy Cinema and then the rest of the week I really did not watch a lot other than Newhart. The Husband and I did watch episodes of old British sitcoms, The Manor Born and Yes, Minister.

This week I hope to watch some Miss Scarlet and The Duke and maybe Death in Paradise, which I have not watched in a long time. I have not seen any of the episodes with the latest detective.

What I’m Writing

As I mentioned above, I am finishing Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage and will have that out to be edited by Wednesday. I plan to continue writing Cassie and hope to finish it by the end of the month or mid-December since it is a smaller book.

This week on the blog I shared:

What I’m Listening To

Needtobreathe has a new album out so I will be listening to that all week, I am sure.

Here is one of the latest songs:

Photos from Last Week

As I mentioned above, I took a lot of photos of autumn leaves last week.

I’ll share some of those photos here today and the rest in a separate post later in the week.

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 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.    

Sunday Bookends: Fall photos, did not finish books, I’m not a real book blogger, and watching old movies (again)

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’s Been Occurring

Yesterday I rambled about last week in my Saturday Afternoon Chat post. You can read that here if you want to.

One thing I mentioned was that I wanted to get some more photographs of the autumn leaves left on our trees. So many have been blown off already and it has been gloomy almost every day for the last week and a half so I haven’t felt like going out to take photographs, but I made myself yesterday. For you. My blog readers who don’t have fall colors. I pushed myself out there and I was so cold and frozen and stumbled home and was forced to huddle under a blanket with hot cocoa and a book the rest of the day. It was rough. Still, I managed to grab some photos for you and they are in the Photos of the Week section further down in this post.

 Today I may try to grab a few more photos as I go to visit my parents for the afternoon but it looks like it is going to be another chilly and windy day so we will see.

The Boy’s friend visited yesterday and they were hanging out in the living room, so I was able to hang out on my own all day and took that time to write blog posts, read a book (that I ended up tossing aside because it was just too awful. See below.), and watch a concert by a Christian musician I like. It was a nice day and I think I need to lock myself upstairs more often.


What I/we’ve been Reading

(I want to reiterate for any book bloggers who visit here that I’m not really a book blogger. I sign-up with the book blogging link ups because I like to see what others are reading and to meet new bloggers. I just don’t want to mislead anyone into thinking that I am a fast or voracious reader. I do read a lot, but I am also writing books of my own and homeschooling my two children (ages 9 and almost 17), so I don’t read as much as many of the bloggers who link up for these fun features.)

This week I got caught up reading the first book in a multi-author series I am a part of this week. The series is called The Apron Strings Books and it is going to offer 11 books which will each focus on a particular decade from the 1920s to 2020. I am writing a book called Cassie, which will come out in August of 2024.

The first book is called Polly and it is by Naomi Musch.

A description:

One cookbook connects them all…
Polly ~ Book One in a string of heartfelt inspirational stories, featuring different women throughout the decades from 1920 to 2020.


The Great War has ended, but Polly Holloway’s heart is shattered when her fiancé finally returns home—with a French war bride. Now her future feels desolate, until she fastens onto the idea of using her skills and a special cookbook to turn her grandfather’s Victorian house into a fashionable ladies’ tea room. Yet, how will she endure the patronage of the woman who stole her sweetheart? Moreover, the suave tavern owner down the block is interfering in her business, personal and otherwise. Heaven only knows what goes on behind his doors.

Ross Dalton can no longer sell liquor in his establishment. With prohibition in force, it’s a mixed blessing. Ross met God on the battlefield, and he wants to start fresh, but he must earn a living. Converting his bar into a coffee house offers a partial solution. Still, bootleggers are pressing him to pedal their moonshine, and the girl up the street is convinced his place is a front for a speakeasy. She’s awfully cute when she turns up her pert little nose at his friendly overtures. How can he convince her he isn’t going to tarnish the neighborhood or ruin her business? And will she believe he’s a changed man when the bootleggers double down?

I’m really enjoying the book and am excited that I am receiving advanced copies of all of the books since I’m part of the project. I can’t wait for everyone to read these books. I was so wrapped up in this one I was actually talking to a character. Out loud. In the middle of the night. Eek. Yes, the story certainly pulls you in.

If you want to learn more about the series, you can join our group on Facebook here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/apronstringsreaders

I was reading a cozy mystery called Death Bee Comes Her by Nancy Coco but it was a DNF for me yesterday. It drove me crazy. The story was just – not good. The things that the characters did were ridiculous. Listen, I know cozy mysteries aren’t the best literature out there sometimes but this book was out and out ridiculous. There were way too many pages where it was just dialogue and not good dialogue either. I was disappointed because the beginning of it had so much promise.

So, in addition to Polly, I am back to reading Walls Crumbling by Alicia Gilliam. I am enjoying this book, which is the second in the Seth Browne series.

A description:

Hiding from the world brought them all together.

Facing it might tear them apart.

Can they survive beyond the walls of the white clapboard house?

Can Seth endure the exposure of a state agent investigating their newly-buried past, including the grave he dug with his bare hands?

Will they find the missing redhead needed to exonerate Seth from suspicion? It all depends on little Benji.

Government intrusion could force the boy even further into his silent bubble — or empower him to reveal his darkest secret.

Meanwhile, Cassady fears a new identity remains permanently out of reach. An invisible link to her past seems to threaten any hope of a romantic happily-ever-after.

Seth secretly wonders if trusting God isn’t the answer for his growing temptations. He’s praying, but every day, the walls are closing in on him.

Walls Crumbling invites you to step into a world where God builds firm foundations over the top of broken rubble.

In addition to reading those books this week, I hope to finish Red Badge of Courage this week, plus a cozy mystery book I’ve been listening to forever on Audible. I am reading Red Badge of Courage with my teenager for school and neither of us got to it last week to read so we will finish it this week.

I have also been reading chapters of a book called When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit by Judith Kerr. I am really enjoying it, but since I am a mood reader, I have laid it aside a couple of times to pick up a cozier book. I believe it’s considered a middle-grade book but it does have a lot of deep subject matter in it since it is about a family who had to leave Germany to escape the Nazis.

Little Miss and I finished Gone Away Lake last week and I have ordered Return to Gone Away Lake for her.

I try to cut myself some slack when I don’t think I’m reading enough and remind myself I’m also reading books with the kids, plus writing my own books and this blog. I am not a speed reader and I’m also not retired yet. When I get to the retirement stage, I will read more books and I’m sure I’ll read them faster.

Photos from Last Week

As I mentioned above, I made it a point to go out for a drive yesterday in very gloomy weather to take some fall photos for my blog readers who don’t live in an area where the leaves change. It seemed like every beautiful tree or group of trees I saw was in a spot where I couldn’t pull off the road to take a photograph. In other places so many leaves had blown off that it wasn’t really pretty enough for a photo.

Still, it was fun to drive around and see the leaves that are still left.

What We watched/are Watching

This past week I watched Penny Serenade with Cary Grant and Irene Dunn (who also starred in The Awful Truth with my friend Erin and I watched for The Spring of Cary feature).  Released in 1941, it was a comedy-drama that focused on the struggles of a newly married couple and then follows them through the struggles of a pregnancy loss, adoption, childhood illness, and the continuing struggles all those things bring to a married couple.

It was a bit heavy for me in some parts and made me want to cry, but it was very well done and did showcase so many issues parents have to deal with – some of them funny and some of them heartbreaking.

There were some really hilarious scenes when the parents had to figure out how to get their daughter to sleep, learn about bathing her and other issues she had to face as she grew up.

The ending didn’t sit well with me for a variety of reasons but I was glad that the movie explored how a couple can group apart when suffering a tragedy in their lives and marriage, but that it is possible to come back together again.

I also watched Strangers on a Train with The Husband and The Boy for Erin (from Still Life, with Cracker Crumbs) Comfy, Cozy Feature. As a commenter pointed out, this movie really wasn’t cozy or comfy but Erin and I never got around to adding “Creepy” to the name of the feature so…there you go.

Next week we are watching Rebecca – also not a comfy or cozy movie.

This week I hope to watch some actually cozy YouTube videos from some of my favorite YouTubers and find some other cozy old movies I have not watched before. Followers on here and on my Instagram (www.instagram.com/lisarhoweler) have been giving me some awesome suggestions for movies and I am adding them all to a list in my notebook. I’m especially looking for cozy, feel-good films for November and December so let me know if you have any of those suggestions.


What I’m Writing

I am editing Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage this week. I will pass that on to my editor husband and some proofreaders on November 1 and start right in on Cassie from the Apron Strings Book series I mentioned above.

This week on the blog I shared:

What I’m Listening to

I have been listening to a lot of worship music this week, especially from Joshua Aaron, an Israeli-American Messianic Jew.

My dad shared this beautiful version of The Blessing being sung in Hebrew on his Facebook page last night and  wanted to share it with you today.

Here is another version of it in a video he filmed in Jerusalem:

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: Reading through my autumn TBR, watching old movies, and a new blog feature to share your posts

Sunday Bookends October 8

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’s Been Occurring

I have to be honest that I’m a little distracted today by what is happening in Israel and I feel like writing a blog post about what I’m reading and doing in my life is pretty unimportant. I’m only continuing because I think we all need distractions right now, no matter how small.

I follow some people who live in Israel and have read some books about the situation in Palestine so hearing the news from the area is extremely upsetting.

I’ll move on for now, though, and relay that I really didn’t do much last week at all but if you want to read about it you can check out my post here.

What I/we’ve been Reading



Last week I finished The Cat Who Blew The Whistle by Lilian Jackson Braun. I enjoyed it for the most part but the ending was strange and a little annoying to me. That happens at times with Braun’s books, but this was at least better than the later ones that were put out and probably not fully written by Braun later in her life.

I am making my way through my autumn reading list slowly, but fairly steadily.

Now I am on to reading Death Bee Comes Her by Nancy Coco and also plan to read a Nancy Drew book for fun (The Hidden Staircase). Death Bee Comes Her was not originally on my list but I picked it up at a used bookstore and it fit well with the theme since it happens in the autumn so I decided to add it in.

The Boy and I are reading Red Badge of Courage still for school.

Little Miss and I are reading Gone Away Lake for school.

 The Husband just started a Dennis Lehane book and I’m not sure if he started another one yet.

What We watched/are Watching

Last week I didn’t watch a lot of movies but I hope to watch a couple this week, including The Lady Vanishes for the Comfy, Cozy Cinema with Erin from Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs.

If you want to join us you are welcome to and we will have a link up for you to add your post to.

We did watch some Newhart and I watched an episode of Miss Scarlet and The Duke.

This week I really want to focus on escaping in some good movies, some wholesome things as well, including The Chosen and The Dick VanDyke Show – anything to calm myself inside.

What I’m Writing

I am working hard to finish Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage and am almost done. I did push the release date off by a couple of weeks because I was concerned I might not have time to write it, revise it, and send it the editor, and revise it again in time for it to be released on the original date. I wanted to slow myself down a bit.

Once I’m finished with this book, I’ll be continuing to work on Cassie, which is a book that will be released in August of 2024 with the Apron Strings Book Series. It is based in the 1990s so it will be fun to research that decade, which I lived through but have forgotten a lot about. Ha! Not because I was drunk or drugged but because I was lost in my own little world in high school and college.

This week on the blog I shared the Weekend Traffic Jam Reboot with two other bloggers. This is a chance for bloggers to share favorite posts from their blogs for the week. You can still share your posts now and we will be back again on Thursday at 9:30 p.m. to set up the link for everyone who wants to participate.

Also on the blog this week I shared about a movie I watched The Lightkeepers.

What I’m Listening to

I listened to a lot of Brandon Lake this week and other worship music, as well as other Christian artists I hadn’t heard of before in an Apple Music playlist. I needed it.



Now it’s your turn

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: Fall arrives officially, fall book list, and watch Arsenic and Old Lace with Us

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’s Been Occurring

Welcome to autumn. Yes, it’s officially autumn now and our Pennsylvania weather cooperated and is chilly outside which means we are cozy inside under blankets.

This past week we focused mainly on schoolwork instead of other activities. I also tried to focus on taking breaks for reading, but didn’t do as well at that as I would have liked to so I hope to make up for that this week.

My birthday was on Tuesday but we celebrated on Sunday so Tuesday was mainly a regular day for me. I grilled some chicken and we hung out and watched a little Anne of Green Gables.

Wednesday night was Kid’s Club at our former church and Thursday Little Miss and I rode with my dad to his physical therapy 45 minutes away. That night Little Miss had gymnastics. Friday was errand day, yesterday I hid in the house all day and today it was lunch at my parents with our former pastor, his wife and children.


What I/we’ve been Reading

This week I am reading A New Leash on Life by Kathleen Y’Barbo and The Cat Who Blew The Whistle by Lilian Jackson Braun.

The Cat Who book is a cozy mystery and I thought A New Leash on Life was as well but so far it’s a romance and a slow one at that. Hopefully it picks up because it is well written otherwise.

I put together a list of books I plan to read this autumn and shared it on my Instagram yesterday.

I always struggle a bit with a planned reading list – mainly because I am a mood reader. I might be in the mood for one book when I make my list and totally not in the mood for it during the time frame I said I’d read it in. Still, I like the idea of having a list of planned reads, even if the plan changes.

I moved some of my books I had posted about last week or the week before to a winter list but for now my “planned” autumn reading list is a mix of adult books and kid books since I will be reading a couple with my daughter or just for myself. I most likely will not get to all these books.

Reading right now:

🐈‍⬛The Cat Who Blew The Whistle by Lilian Jackson Braun

🐕New Leash on Life by Kathleen Y’Barbo

“Planned” Reading for October and November:

📚Bake Until Golden by Linda Evans Shepherd and Eva Marie Everson

📚The Ghost and Mrs. Mewer by Krista Davis

📚Brynn and Sebastian Hate Each Other by Bethany Turner

📚The Cat Who Talked Turkey by Lilian Jackson Braun

📚The Hidden Staircase (Nancy Drew book two) by Carolyn Keene

📚When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit by Judith Kerr (part way through this but the library book smelled like mildew so I found a used copy on Thriftbooks and it’s on its way. I hope it doesn’t smell!)

📚Gone Away Lake by Elizabeth Enright (reading this already with Little Miss)

📚The Black Stallion by Walter Farley

📚The Wind in The Willows by Kenneth Graham

Do you make planned reading lists for the different seasons? If so, did you make one this year for autumn?

Little Miss and I will hopefully finish Gone Away Lake next week or the week after. We are enjoying it and I’m already planning to buy it’s sequel, Return to Gone Away Lake.

The Boy and I are listening to Red Badge of Courage for our unit on English lit and American History.

The Husband is reading The Deserter by Nelson DeMille.

What We watched/are Watching

Last week I watched The Dick VanDyke Show and Newhart. I also watched The African Queen as part of the Comfy, Cozy Cinema feature with Erin from Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs.

This week we are watching Arsenic and Old Lace. If you are interested in watching the movie with us and blogging about it we will be posting our impressions of the movie on Thursday and will have a link on our posts where you can sign up.

Last night Little Miss and I had a girl’s night and watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2. We didn’t like it as much as the original My Big Fat Greek Wedding, but it was okay.

What I’m Writing

I am furiously working on Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage and while I’ve hit some snags, I’m still having fun writing it.

After it’s finished and edited and revisions are made, I’ll be working more on Cassie, which will come out in August of 2024 as part of a multi author book series.

What I’m Listening To

This week I enjoyed listening to Matthew West, Brooke Ligertwood, Brandon Lake, and TobyMac. I was also excited to find a Klove radio station in the town where my dad’s physical therapy is. I was able to listen to wonderful Christian music almost all the way home from his appointment and it was such a comfort because I tend to think a lot and worry about him on the way home from those appointments.


Now it’s your turn

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 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.

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

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.


Fiction Friday: Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage Chapter 3

Welcome to the third 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.

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

Chapter 3

She slid her finger over the end button on the screen as she walked toward Doris. Reaching out she laid her hand on the woman’s thin shoulder. “Doris, what’s going on?” Gladwynn could feel the woman shaking under her touch.

Doris didn’t answer. Her hand was still clasped over her mouth and she’d squeezed her eyes shut as if to shut out whatever she’d just seen. Tears slipped from under her eyelids.

“Speak to me,” Gladwynn said, squeezing her shoulder. “What’s going on?” When Doris only gasped in a breath behind her hand, Gladwynn slid her hand to her back. “Where is Samantha? Did you see her? Is she in there?”

Doris nodded, opening her eyes. She slowly lifted her arm and pointed into the condo.

Gladwynn took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway of the condo. A chill swept over her and she paused, rubbing her hands up her arms. She couldn’t pause long, though. Something was clearly wrong with Samantha and she very well might need an ambulance. Her heels clipped on the hardwood floor, echoing in the sparsely `decorated main living space of the condo.

She should have asked Doris where she’d seen Samantha, but the woman had been too upset. There was no one in the living room or the kitchen, but there was a flight of stairs on the other side of the dining room. Gladwynn ascended them quickly and saw Samantha on the carpeted floor of the bedroom as soon she reached the top. The door was across from the stairs and it was open.

 Samantha was lying with her head twisted to one side, her body contorted, a clenched hand reaching toward the doorway.

Gladwynn lifted her phone and dialed 911 as she inched closer, trying to decide what to do. Should she check Samantha’s pulse? Maybe she shouldn’t check the body at all, but if there was a chance Samantha was still alive, she needed to see.

“Marson County 911. What’s your emergency?”

Gladwynn knelt next to the body, grimacing at the sight of Samantha’s face. Her eyes were open and her mouth was twisted into a grimace.  “I need an ambulance at Willowbrook.” Her voice trembled. “Condo 43. There’s a woman and she’s lying on the floor.”

“Okay. She’s on the floor unconscious?”

“Yes.”

“Is she breathing?”

Gladwynn took a deep breath and laid a hand on Samantha’s back. It was cold and hard and made Gladwynn rip her hand back quickly. “No. She doesn’t appear to be.”

“Is there a pulse?”

“Should I check? I mean, should I touch her?”

“Not if you don’t feel comfortable, but if you do you can check at her wrist using two fingers. I’m dispatching the ambulance now.”

Gladwynn cast a quick glance around the room, her gaze falling on a broken lamp on the floor, a tea cup with spilled tea on the carpet, a tipped over chair, and a piece of paper half crumpled near Samantha’s right hand.

“Send the police too,” she said. “I don’t think this was an accident.”

The dispatcher asked her to stay on the line and she did while she reached over slowly and pressed two fingers against Samantha’s wrist. Not only wasn’t there a pulse but her skin was cold and gray.

“No pulse,” she told the dispatcher. “Her skin is a funny color too. I think she’s been gone for a while.”

“Okay, ma’am. Just stay there. The ambulance and police are on their way.”

Gladwynn pulled her hand away and sat back on her heels, her stomach aching. Doris appeared in the doorway, one hand on her mouth, the other on her stomach.

“Is she – is she –”

Gladwynn looked up, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth briefly. “Yes.”

Doris began to sob and Gladwynn stood and pulled the woman against her. She felt something under her foot, glanced down, and saw it was the piece of paper.

While part of it was crumpled, she could read part of a name and date at the top of the page, as if someone — maybe Samantha — had been writing a letter.

She looked closer at the partially written name.

Der.

Maybe a boyfriend or some sort of relative? Gladwynn wasn’t sure. All she wanted to do at that moment was get Doris out of the room and maybe come back up and cover Samantha up. She knew she couldn’t cover a body, though. Not before the police had been there. Seeing her laying there, though, her body twisted at an odd angle, her hands reaching out and her unseeing eyes staring, was unnerving.

“Come on, Doris. Let’s wait downstairs for the police okay?”

“The police?” Doris looked up alarmed. “ Why are the police coming? Did someone do this to her? Oh my goodness. Oh, Gladwynn.”

Gladwynn ushered Doris toward the door. “I don’t know, but the police are better equipped than us to find out. Let’s go downstairs.”

On her way through the doorway, she noticed a black mark on the wall by the doorframe. It could have been anything, but its position on the wall, just on the edge of the frame, made her question how it had got there.

Very little about the scene seemed like an accident. The broken lap and knocked-over chair were in the wrong places if a medical emergency had caused Samantha’s fall unless she had stumbled around the room in her final moments. That was, of course, a possibility, but Gladwynn truly didn’t feel that’s what had happened.

She had Doris sit on the couch and then went to the kitchen and started to open the cabinet to get a glass of water but hesitated. This was a potential crime scene. There could be fingerprints and clues everywhere. She lowered her hand and went back to Doris just as the ambulance pulled up out front.

An EMT with a bag ran inside and Gladwynn pointed to the stairs. “She’s up there.”

Doris sniffed. “I should call your grandmother.” She sniffed again, reaching into her purse for her phone. “And Emerald. Oh, and Eileen should know too.”

Another EMT ran into the house and Gladwynn pointed up the stairs. The woman followed her co-worker.

Gladwynn held up her own phone. “I’ll call Grandma. You handle the other two.”

Doris nodded meekly, swiping a hand across her cheek.

Gladwynn stood and dialed her grandmother’s number while walking around the living room, looking at the bare white walls, the tan couch, and the plain brown coffee table with a single magazine on it. The house was immaculate but there also wasn’t much inside to clutter it. A small black bookcase with three shelves stood on the opposite side of the room next to a television with a DVD player underneath it. The shelves were only partially full.

Gladwynn stepped back to look into the kitchen as her grandmother’s phone continued to ring.  Its coloring was pale like the living room and it was also spotless. As she started to look away, though, she noticed a flower petal on the floor in front of the stove. Glancing around, though, she didn’t see the flower it could have come from.

“Gladwynn?” Her grandmother’s voice was panicked. “I’m on my way, but Emerald has fainted and we’re trying to help her. Is it true? Is Samantha dead?”

“I think so, yes.” Though she really knew so. There hadn’t been a pulse. Maybe after the EMTs worked on her? But, no. She had to accept that not even that would help.

Her grandmother let out a ragged breath. “Oh my. Oh, this is awful. Are you okay? Did you find her? Who found her? Was there blood? Was she –”

“Grandma, calm down. I want you to go home. There’s nothing you can do here. I’ll meet you there later. I’m waiting for the police.”

Lucinda gasped. “The police? Why would the police come? Is there something else going on? Are you in danger?”

“Grandma, no. I’m okay. I just felt the police should be here because something seemed off. I’ll fill you in when I get home. The EMTs are upstairs now. I’m sure they’re trying CPR. If anything changes, I’ll let you know.”

The EMTs came down the stairs as Gladwynn hung up. The man’s expression was grim.  “Are you family?”

Gladwynn shook her head. “No. My friend knows her but I’ve never met her. We came to check on her.”

The man stepped closer to Gladwynn, away from Doris was crying into her phone.

“She’s gone,” he said. “There’s nothing we can do. We didn’t even try to move her. She’s cold to the touch and her lips are blue.”

Gladwynn touched a hand to her throat. “I didn’t even notice her mouth. I was so distracted by her eyes.”

The EMT shuddered. “Yeah. I can see why. It’s creepy. The police should be here any minute. We’ll let them handle it.” He looked at Doris who had collapsed on the couch. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

Doris pressed a hand to her forehead and nodded slowly, her eyes closed. “Yes. Or I will be.” She opened her eyes and offered a weak smile. “Thank you.”

The front door was still open and a frantic-looking woman with straight dark brown hair flowing across her shoulders rushed inside. Gladwynn guessed her to be around 45.

“What is going on?” she gasped.

Doris stood. “Oh, Eileen. I just left you a message. It’s Sam—”

Eileen’s cheeks were flushed. “I saw the ambulance outside. Did something happen to Samantha? Where is she?”

The EMT stepped toward her, his hand raised. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but if you’re not family I really need you to –”

“I’m the manager of this community,” Eileen snapped, a strand of hair falling across her face. “I want to know what is going on. Where is Samantha?”

Doris walked over and laid a hand on Eileen’s shoulder. “Something terrible has happened.  Samantha is dead.”

The color in Eileen’s face visibly drained, making the red on her cheeks stand out even more. “That’s not possible. I just spoke to her this morning.”

Gladwynn looked through the doorway and watched a state police car yank into a parking space. She immediately recognized the trooper who stepped out of the vehicle as Trooper Tanner Kinney. The only difference from the last time she’d seen him, though, was that today he was wearing a suit and button up shirt instead of a standard state police uniform. Another man wearing a similar suit stepped out of the passenger side. Another state police car parked next to theirs.

Gladwynn stepped out front to meet Tanner.  

“Miss Grant.” He tipped his head forward in greeting as he walked toward her. “Why am I not surprised to find you here?”

She clasped her hands behind her back and tipped her head similar to how he had. “Trooper Kinney.”

“Detective Kinney.”

“Detective?”

“I’ve been promoted to the homicide unit.”

“First, I wasn’t allowed to call you officer. Now I can’t even call you trooper. Your titles aren’t easy to keep up with. When did this promotion happen?”

“A month ago, but I don’t have time to discuss my personal life with you right now. If you haven’t noticed, there’s been a death.”

He started to walk toward the house and she hurried to catch up with him.

“I definitely noticed. I was the second person on the scene behind my grandmother’s friend Doris.”

Tanner glanced over his shoulder. “Someone you know?”

Gladwynn shook her head once. “No. Someone my grandmother and our friend knew.”

He paused and looked down at her and she was reminded how tall he was. “You do have a knack for getting yourself mixed up in things.”

“I promise it was not intentional this time. I was merely dropping my friend off to check on her friend.”

Tanner smiled briefly. “Sure. Now, where’s the victim?”

Gladwynn hugged her arms around herself, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she remembered what she had seen earlier. “Upstairs. In the bedroom.”

Tanner and the other trooper disappeared into the condo.

She followed them inside, staying in the living room with Doris and Eileen, though she truly was curious what the men would say when they saw Samantha in the position she was in.

Eileen began to pace, pushing a hand through her disheveled shoulder-length hair. “Why are their police here? Is that standard for a medical situation?”

The female EMT had already gone back to the ambulance. The male EMT shrugged his shoulder. “Sometimes it is. It depends on the situation.”

Eileen paused in her pacing, her hands on her hips. “I mean it was a medical situation, right? Is that what happened? I mean did she trip or fall or maybe it was her heart or –”

“We don’t know yet,” the EMT responded. “I know this is an upsetting situation, but please try to stay calm.”

Eileen began to chew on her fingernail as she paced. “I’m trying. Will the police tell us what happened?”

“When they know, I’m sure you’ll know,” the EMT said, but Gladwynn knew that wasn’t true. The police weren’t usually very interested in being forthcoming with information, especially this early in an investigation.  

Tanner’s voice boomed from upstairs. “Miss Grant? Please come up here.”

Eileen intently watched Gladwynn walk across the room toward the dining room and the stairs. The woman was probably wondering why the police knew Gladwynn by name. A cold chill shivered across Gladwynn like it had when she’d first climbed the stairs. Tanner and two other men were in the room, either wearing gloves or pulling them on. Tanner put his hand up to stop her from entering the room. She could see Samantha’s body behind him, though, and tears stung her eyes.

She never imagined she would ever be caught up in such a heartbreaking situation.

“Miss Grant, is everything here the way it was when you first came in? You didn’t touch anything? Move anything?”

She took a deep breath, swallowing hard. “I touched her wrist to see if there was a pulse. Otherwise, no. I didn’t touch anything.”

Tanner snapped a glove on. “Good. Head downstairs and wait, please. We’d like to talk to you and the others. We’ll be down shortly.”

She nodded briefly and returned to the living room.

Other members of law enforcement trailed into the house like ants looking for a watermelon while she, Doris, and Eileen waited.

Eileen had stopped pacing. She was now sitting in a plain gray chair, texting and chewing on her nails.

“When can we get out of here?” she asked as she stood abruptly. “I need to go check on the residents and calm them down. I’m sure they know something is up with all these police parked outside.”

Gladwynn had to admit she was getting a bit anxious herself. She’d really like to get back home and check on Lucinda, but even more so she wanted to get Doris home. The woman was clearly shook up still. She’d been sitting on the couch, crying softly into a tissue off and on, and rubbing her arms with her hands. Gladwynn wondered if she should call Bill and have him come over, but she knew having too many people on a crime scene was a serious no-no. Bill also wasn’t known for being the most sensitive person.

As if in answer to Eileen’s question, Tanner came down the stairs, a notebook in hand. “Ladies, sorry for making you wait. I hope we can get you out of her soon. I’ll just need a quick statement and then you can all be on your way.” He opened the notebook and sat on the couch Doris was sitting on, but at the other end. “Which one of you was first on scene?”

Doris slowly raised her hand. “Me.” She held the tissue to her mouth and choked back a sob.

Tanner’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but if you could just tell me what position the body was in when you found it.”

Doris’ eyes narrowed. “She was on the floor when I found her.” She put an emphasis on she and her, to make it clear, it seemed to Gladwynn, that she didn’t appreciate Tanner reducing Samantha to an inanimate object. “She was on her face and her eyes were open.” She wiped a tissue across the corner of her eye. “It was just awful.”

Tanner kept his eyes on the notebook as he scratched a couple of notes. “I know this is hard, but I just need to gather as many details as I can in case this turns out to be more than a medical emergency.”

“Do you think it was more than a medical emergency?” Gladwynn asked.

Tanner looked up at her. “We can’t be sure until the coroner does an autopsy but the EMTs did radio in some concerns about the scene and asked for us to investigate.”

“And now that you’ve seen her body what do you think?”

A small smile pulled at Tanner’s mouth. “Miss Grant, I know you are a naturally curious person, and this has all been a bit of a shock but you also know that I can’t talk about a case while we are still investigating. Furthermore –”

“But you’re calling it a case so –”

Tanner cleared his throat. “Furthermore, I can’t discuss any case with a private citizen unless they are a family member of the deceased and I certainly would not discuss it this early on with a member of the media.”

Gladwynn sat back against the couch and sighed. “Understood. Sorry. I guess I got a bit ahead of myself.”

Tanner turned his attention back to Doris, finished his questioning of her and then turned to Gladwynn and recorded what she had seen as well.

Eileen was last. “I didn’t see anything. I got here after the ambulance.”

“May I ask when you saw the deceased last?”

“I saw Samantha this morning, briefly. On her way out the door. I asked her about this month’s recreation schedule. She told me she’d have it done later today. She was going to the lake to clear her mind.”

“Did anything seem out of the ordinary when you spoke to her?”

“Like what?”

“Like did she seem unwell? Say anything about having been sick?”

“No. Nothing like that. I mean, she seemed tired. That’s why she was going to the lake. She said she had a lot on her mind and just wanted some time to think.”

Tanner nodded as he looked at his notebook.. “And about what time was that?”

“I – I’m not sure.” Eileen wound a piece of hair around her finger. “Maybe 10?”

“How well did you know Samantha?”

Eileen let out a shaky breath. “Well enough that we enjoyed movie nights together and an occasional lunch but not well enough that we knew every single thing about each other.”

Tanner closed his notebook and stood. “You ladies may go but I may need to talk to you again when we have a conclusive cause of death.” He looked directly at Gladwynn. “I’ll send out a release as soon as I have more information.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will.”

Gladwynn didn’t miss Eileen’s tight-lipped expression as she stood, her phone clutched in her hand and against her chest. She left quickly without a word to Doris and Gladwynn.

Doris stood slowly, trembling. Gladwynn placed a hand under the older woman’s elbow. “I’m going to take you home, Doris.”

“Oh. No. I should go back to the theater and –”

Gladwynn squeezed Doris’ elbow. “I’m taking you home and making some tea. You need to rest. Grandma wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t take you home to calm down.”

Doris managed a smile – the first Gladwynn had seen since they’d entered the condo. “Your grandmother is a good, Christian woman. She’d certainly forgive you. Eventually anyhow.”

Gladwynn’s cell phone rang as she opened the car door for Doris. She knew who it was without even looking at the caller ID, but she also realized she had forgotten to tell Tanner about seeing Samantha at the beach earlier that day.

He was upstairs, though, and she didn’t want to bother him again. She’d call him later and fill him in on what he saw. She didn’t know if it was important or not. Maybe he could find her cell phone and see who she’d been talking to.