A Family Affair

by Shannon VanBergen

  “I’m afraid I can’t let you come in any further. The lumberyard is closed today.”

  “That’s a shame,” she said. “I had a list of things I needed.”

  He glanced in the SUV and seemed to make eye contact with each of us. “And just where were you thinking of putting your purchases, since your vehicle seems to be full.”

  Virginia laughed knowingly. “I was going to have it delivered, of course.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What are you building?”

  “A deck,” she answered.

  He narrowed his eyes again like he was thinking this over. “Don’t you live in the retirement center?”

  This time, it was Virginia who narrowed her eyes. “It’s a retirement ‘community,’ and I can do whatever I darn well please!”

  He took a step back, not wanting to get caught up in Virginia’s wrath. “Okay, okay,” he said, throwing his hands up. “If you give me your list, I’ll make sure Eddie gets it.”

  Uh oh. How was Virginia going to handle this one?

  She sat up straight. “I’ll just text it to him myself!”

  Just then, Detective Owen looked our way. I saw the look on his face and knew we were the last people he wanted to see at his crime scene. As he started to walk our way, the Grannies got out of the SUV to meet him halfway.

  “I tried to stop them,” Tom said to Owen as he walked past him.

  “I know you did,” Owen answered.

  I finally got out too and caught up to them about the same time Owen did.

  “Ladies,” Owen said to us. “There’s nothing for you to see here. We’ve got this all under control.”

  Virginia patted him on the arm. “I’m sure you do. You’re a wonderful detective. I don’t doubt your abilities one bit.”

  I could tell he wasn’t sure how to take that. I wasn’t even sure how to take it.

  “We heard there was a body found here,” Hattie said. “Can we see it?”

  Grandma nudged Hattie in the arm to shut up.

  “I’m afraid this isn’t show and tell,” Owen said sternly. “This is a crime scene, and I need all of you to clear out. When we’re ready to share details, you’ll read about it in the paper.”

  His phone rang and he glanced at the number. “I have to take this.” He answered the call and his face grew serious. “I’ll be there in a minute,” he finally said to the person on the line. “I have to meet with someone. I’ll follow you ladies out.”

  “Wait!” Hattie yelled. “I have to pee.”

  “What?” Detective Owen asked. “Now?”

  “My bladder is like my purse,” Hattie answered. “It’s a good size, but the darn thing just doesn’t stay closed.”

  Detective Owen cringed and pointed to a small, white outbuilding. “There’s a bathroom in there. But I expect you ladies to be gone when I get back, and I don’t want to see you here again.”

  “What do we do now?” Greta asked once Detective Owen drove away.

  “I have an idea,” Irene said. “But it’s a little crazy.”

  Hattie’s eyes lit up. “I like crazy!”

  But after Irene explained her idea, I could tell it was even a bit too crazy for Hattie.

  “I’m not so sure about this,” Grandma said.

  Irene huffed. “Do you have a better idea?”

  Grandma took a deep breath. “All right then. You girls ready?”

  We didn’t answer. I think we were all thinking of the million and one ways this plan could go wrong.

  “Come on,” Grandma Dean said, pulling us toward the group of officers ahead. “Let’s do this before Owen gets back.”

  6

  “I’m so nervous, I’m sweating in my fat folds.” Virginia adjusted her bra and fanned herself at the same time.

  “It’s not your nerves,” Irene rebutted. “It’s this dang heat.”

  It was hot. It was barely noon and the sweat was running down my back as we made our way to the body. The gravel crunched under my feet, and I wondered how Grandma Dean could walk so gracefully through it in her heels.

  Just as we approached the body, Officer Tom stepped in front of us again. He gave us a stern look. “I thought you ladies were leaving.”

  Irene shot a quick look at Greta. It was showtime.

  “We were,” Greta said, stepping forward. “But we couldn’t leave without saying a prayer for the deceased and their poor mother. Has she been notified yet?”

  Tom sputtered for a moment before answering. I knew deep down he knew this was some sort of ploy, but he couldn’t make out in his mind what it was. “No, ma’am,” he said. “We’re still working on identifying him.”

  She shook her head and made a tsk-tsk sound. “This is going to come as an awful shock to her. I think praying for her is the least we can do. Don’t you?”

  Tom looked nervous. He clearly didn’t trust us, but how could he say no?

  “Alright,” he finally answered. “But make it quick.”

  Greta gave him a look, and I could tell that Officer Tom instantly felt guilty for trying to rush the prayer. How did grandmas do that?

  “Gather the other officers,” Greta told him. “We’ll all pray together.”

  With a sheepish “yes, ma’am,” Officer Tom told the others to gather around. We made a giant circle, well, more like an oval around the body covered in a tarp on the ground. We all stood next to each other at the head of the body, except for Greta. She stood directly in front of us on the opposite side.

  I glanced around at the officers. This had to be torture for them. The sun beat down on us all, and I could see the beads of sweat on their faces.

  My stomach turned. The plan was to take a look at the tattoo while Greta prayed and everyone had their eyes shut. But would it actually work?

  “Thank you for letting us take a moment to pray,” Greta said to the group. “Let us all bow our heads and close our eyes as we pray for this person’s soul. Let us not be hindered by the heat or grow impatient and open our eyes too quickly, but instead be respectful of our time with the Lord.”

  Greta was good…real good. And not just because she could guilt anyone into submission, but because she was genuinely good. She had a big heart. While this had been a plan concocted to get some information, I believed that Greta wholeheartedly wanted to pray for the victim and his mother.

  Suddenly, the weight of the whole thing came crashing down on me. I was standing in front of an actual dead body. A real person who had a life and a family. And it was all taken too soon. I looked at the Grannies, who had already bowed their heads. This was why they did what they did—to avenge these innocent people. They were braver than anyone I had ever met.

  “Dear Heavenly Father,” Greta began. I glanced around. Everyone had their heads bowed and their eyes closed. I hadn’t said a lot of prayers in my life, but I silently lifted up my own. Dear God, please let this work.

  As Greta prayed, Virginia bent down and gently pulled back the tarp. The man had his head turned toward Virginia and he was staring her right in the face. She stifled a scream as she put her hand to her mouth. I glanced around nervously, sure the officers had heard her gasp. Thankfully, they still had their heads bowed and were listening intently to Greta’s prayer…or more likely thinking about what they would have for dinner that night.

  Virginia motioned for Greta to look for the tattoo on her side. She tilted her head down and to the side as she continued to pray. “And please comfort the mother of this poor boy…” She shook her head no. No tattoo.

  A moment of panic seemed to wash over all of us. That meant the tattoo was on our side. We gave each other a nervous glance and then all looked at Virginia. What would she do now? Attempt to turn his head? Would that be tampering with the body? Could you even move his head at this point?

  Greta motioned with her hands to hurry it up. I glanced at the officers again and saw sweat running down their foreheads. I panicked for a second when one of them moved a folded hand and wiped his b
row. His eyes remained closed, but I knew it was only a matter of seconds before one of them would finally open their eyes and catch us.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Grandma motioning to Virginia. Virginia shook her head no and Grandma gave her the evil eye. Virginia sighed and her shoulders slumped a bit. She put her phone under the victim’s head and took a picture. A flash lit up the underside of his face, then she did it again. She took it out and looked at her phone and frowned. As she pushed a few buttons on her phone, I heard Greta. “And please watch over Officer Frank and his wife Shelley and help them to conceive. And thank you for the Cranston family’s abundant tomato harvest this year, which will give them salsa and pizza sauce for many months to come…” We glanced at her and she shrugged. Clearly, she was running out of things to pray for.

  Our attention was quickly back on Virginia as she put the phone back down on the ground and slid it under the dead man. She snapped a few more pictures, looked at them quickly, and was apparently pleased with the outcome because she gave us a thumbs up and slid the phone back in her pocket.

  We did it! I couldn’t believe we actually pulled it off! I could see the anxiety lift from each of us. Virginia put the tarp back in place, and I took a deep breath, letting the warm air fill my lungs. I glanced around at the sweaty police officers and then to Greta, who I assumed would be finishing up with an “Amen” at any moment. Instead, she had a worried look on her face. “And please be with Officer Marty and Savannah’s son as he prepares to take the SAT…” I followed her line of vision back to Virginia, who was still sitting on the ground next to the body with a panicked expression.

  “Get up!” Grandma mouthed and motioned wildly.

  “I can’t! It’s my knees!” Virginia mouthed back.

  Oh, for goodness sake! What were we going to do now? Poor Greta continued going around the circle of officers, praying for each one. She only had one more to go. We had to think of something fast.

  Grandma leaned over and gave Virginia a tug that did absolutely nothing to get her off the ground. That clearly wasn’t going to work.

  “And, Father…” Greta continued, her brows furrowed in worry as she started to pray for the last officer. “Thank you for healing the prostate of dear Officer Monroe and for…” she droned on while we all looked at Virginia, stranded in the gravel.

  Then, as if on cue, just as Greta finished praying for Officer Monroe, his prostate, and his wife’s suspicious mole, Hattie jumped in front of Grandma Dean and on top of Virginia like a cat jumping on its prey. With force, she knocked her over, her body barely missing the one under the tarp. Everyone’s eyes flew open in shock as Virginia laid sprawled out in the gravel and Hattie laid over her. “She fainted!” Hattie yelled. “Must be the heat!”

  Virginia struggled to get up, but Hattie pushed her down again. “Quick, we need some cold water!”

  The officers scrambled, and one came back with a water bottle that looked like it had just been pulled from a cooler. Hattie took it, quickly twisted off the cap, and took a drink. “Ahhhh,” she said. “So refreshing.” She looked around at all of us who were standing there, our mouths wide open in shock. “What are you guys doing just standing there? Get this woman some help!”

  The officers scrambled again, and soon Virginia was off the ground and Officer Tom was brushing the gravel from her face.

  “This is some good water,” Hattie said, looking at the label. “It’s the first time I’ve ever tasted this brand!”

  Back in the car, Virginia was furious. She had refused a ride in the ambulance even though Officer Tom had insisted. Instead, another officer bandaged her skinned knee and elbow.

  “I can’t believe you shoved me like that!” she yelled at Hattie.

  “Well, what was I supposed to do?” Hattie yelled back. “Call Life Alert? ‘Help, my friend bent down to take a picture of a dead body and now she can’t get up?’ I can just see that on their next commercial!”

  “I’m sorry, guys,” I said from the third row where they always stuck me. “I should’ve been the one to bend down and take the picture.”

  Suddenly, all eyes were narrowed and on me. “That’s right!” Irene said. “We have you here for a reason. If you’re not going to pull your own weight around here, we’ll just find another young person to do our dirty work.” She shook her head and mumbled, “Can’t even scale a wall!”

  And just like that, all the anger and irritation was pulled from Hattie and put on me. The Grannies all turned around in their seats with a “Hmph.” I didn’t even care about that right now. I just wanted to see that picture.

  7

  “Yep, I’d say that’s the same tattoo. Wouldn’t you, Geraldine?” Virginia passed the phone to Grandma as we again sat around her kitchen table.

  Grandma studied it for a moment. She sighed and slid the phone back to Virginia. “I think it’s the same.”

  The Grannies sat there quietly, and I reached for the phone. I was the only one who hadn’t seen the picture yet. Sure enough, there was a tattoo that was just how the Grannies had described the one left on Rosa’s son.

  Greta spoke softly. “So, this means the killer struck again. I think we need to tell Rosa. It might be easier for her if she hears it from us instead of the police.”

  Grandma stood up. “I agree, but first we need to stop by Lloyd’s birthday party. By the time we leave there, the café should be well over the lunch rush and we can have a more private conversation with her.”

  “Shouldn’t we just go see her now?” I suggested. I really didn’t want to go to the party. Plus, it seemed like the kind of news we should tell Rosa now, not later.

  “We can’t miss Lloyd’s birthday party!” Hattie exclaimed. “He has the best parties. And at his age, this might be his last!”

  “I’m sure he’ll have many more,” Grandma said, grabbing a gift bag from the kitchen counter. “But he’s our friend and this is important to him.”

  “I’ll meet you ladies at the party,” Irene said, heading toward the door. “I need to stop at home and grab his gift.”

  “I do too,” Virginia and Greta said at the same time.

  “I already gave him mine,” Hattie said with a sly smile.

  I shuttered. “I saw it earlier.”

  Hattie’s eyes opened wide. “You did? How did it look? Did it fit okay? Was there any gaping?”

  I wanted to tell her I hadn’t looked close enough to be able to tell. But unfortunately, I had seen just how snugly it fit. “It fit just fine,” I assured her.

  Hattie smiled with pride. “I can’t wait for you all to see it!”

  And I was sure Lloyd would be more than happy to show it off.

  The sound of Ricky Martin music blared from the party room. Hattie was already dancing as we made our way down the hall. “I just love this song!” she said as she shook her hips.

  When we walked in, the party was already in full swing. Streamers and balloons littered the place, and old people were dancing, their titanium hips swaying to the beat.

  Lloyd sat at a table near the center of the room, a group of people gathered around him laughing. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you one more!” he said to the delight of his friends. “A pirate walks into a bar and he has a steering wheel attached to his privates.” I was already cringing, but the group around him let out a round of laughter. Lloyd continued, “The bartender says, ‘Um, did you know you have a steering wheel stuck to your…you know.’ And the pirate says, ‘Argh, I do. It’s driving me nuts!’”

  The group laughed, and Lloyd beamed at all the attention. Then he looked over and saw us standing there. “You guys came!” he said, standing and reaching over to give us each a hug. While the other Grannies fully embraced him, I tried to give him a hug with my arms outstretched—the kind of hug you’d give someone if you were covered in paint and didn’t want to get any on someone’s clothes. Except Lloyd wasn’t wearing clothes, just his usual robe and his new cupcake Speedo. And he didn’t accept the f
ake hug I tried to give him. Instead, he pulled me close and patted me on the back. “I’m glad you’re here, poodles!” I cringed again. I seemed to do that a lot in Lloyd’s presence. Poodles was a nickname someone gave me a few months ago. That person was now dead and even though I had nothing to do with it, I still felt that Lloyd should heed the warning.

  Grandma Dean handed him his gift. “We can’t stay long, but we wanted to stop by and give you our gifts.”

  Lloyd’s face fell a little. “You’ll still have a cupcake, right? And some punch?”

  “Of course!” Hattie said. Then she leaned in close and spoke just above the music. “Is the punch spiked?”

  “You know it,” Lloyd said with a wink.

  I watched them both laugh and high-five each other, and I thought about how cute they would be together. But then my mind was suddenly filled with a different thought all together. What about all the trouble they could get into together? I shuddered at the thought. “Hattie,” I said, interrupting their laughter. “Let’s go get everyone a cupcake!”

  An hour passed and we were still at the party. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly 2:30. If we wanted to talk to Rosa before the dinner crowd came in, we needed to get going. In a community full of older people, the dinner crowd started to flow in at 4:00, much earlier than the 6:00 dinner time I was used to back home.

  Grandma must have been thinking the same thing. “I’m going to go round up Hattie and Irene,” she said, standing up from the table.

  I watched her walk over to the impromptu dance floor and interrupt both Grannies dancing with Lloyd to a Justin Bieber song. I only knew who Justin Bieber was thanks to Hattie. She loved him. I was more of a country-song kind of girl, but Hattie was always making me listen to pop music.

  I saw something slosh out of Irene’s drink and knew right away she had been drinking a little too much of the spiked punch. Hattie shrieked with laughter and I knew she had too. Even with the dimmed lights, I could see Grandma roll her eyes.