The Root of All Evil

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The Root of All Evil Page 2

by Shannon VanBergen


  “Nikki,” he said, surprised to see me. “Are you okay?”

  “Nothing is wrong with her,” the short, old man snapped. “We’re the ones who were nearly killed. What’s it take to get a statement taken around here? Apparently, boobs and a bad haircut!”

  My face went red. I didn’t know who that short man was, but I was about ready to run him over myself.

  “Mr. Henson,” Detective Owen said calmly. “Would you like to tell me what happened?”

  The old man grumbled something under his breath then answered. “It’s the same as last time! Someone tried to kill me! How many attempts is it going to take before you finally decide to do something about it?”

  Detective Owen put his hand out and grabbed the taller man’s elbow. “You okay, Mr. Bennett?”

  “Yah, just a little shook up is all. No worse for wear.”

  I felt bad for the taller man, Mr. Bennett. He seemed like a nice guy.

  I finished giving my statement to Detective Owen just as Joe pulled in. As Joe made his way over, I saw Detective Owen glance at him and make a face. Was that jealousy I saw? Surely not.

  Joe rushed to my side. “Nikki, are you all right?”

  “Poodles is fine!” snapped the cranky Mr. Henson, who was still standing behind Mr. Bennett and I. “What does it take to get some sympathy over here?”

  I rolled my eyes and looked up at Mr. Bennett. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’ll make sure he’s taken care of,” Detective Owen said, pulling Mr. Bennett toward him a little. “You two go on. I’ll make sure he gets home okay.”

  Mr. Bennett finally released my arm and I slowly walked away, feeling guilty for leaving him. I didn’t even know the guy, but I could tell he was kind and I knew the ordeal had really shaken him up.

  “What in the heck happened back there?” Joe asked as we walked into the coffee shop. I filled him in while we waited in line.

  “The cranky one said it had happened before?”

  I nodded as I looked into the display case that housed the baked goods. It all looked good, but I was too upset to eat. Just kidding. I was starving and the adrenaline rush made me feel ravenous. “I’ll take a slice of blueberry pound cake and a bagel with brown sugar cream cheese…and let’s throw in one of those palm tree shortbread cookies,” I said to the man behind the counter.

  I didn’t even look over to see if Joe was judging me. My mind was on Mr. Henson and Mr. Bennett and their visit with Grandma Dean earlier. That was why they went to visit the Glock Grannies—because someone was trying to kill the cranky old Mr. Henson and they wanted the Grannies to figure out who was behind it. Well, maybe now that I know what’s going on, and saw an attempted murder firsthand, they’ll let me in, I thought.

  “Hey,” I yelled to the man behind the counter as he started to walk away. “Give me one of those raisin biscuits too.” I needed to keep up my strength. Carb loading before reloading…could that be my motto now that I was in the Glock Grannies group? I’d have to come up with something because I was pretty sure I was about to become an important part of their little club. Of course, if I had known just how important, I would’ve loaded up my pastries and left town instead of waltzing into Grandma Dean’s apartment gloating because I had been at the scene of the crime. If I had only known what was in my future.

  Chapter 3

  I walked into Grandma Dean’s apartment and found her straightening up the kitchen.

  She smiled at me as she wiped down the counter. “How’s the shop coming along?”

  “Oh, just fine,” I said nonchalantly.

  “Great! You and I can head there in the morning and finish up whatever needs to be done. But for now, I’m going to read the newspaper and relax a bit.”

  As she walked out of the kitchen, I noticed she left the newspaper on the corner of the kitchen table.

  “Grandma,” I called after her. “You forgot your paper.” I picked it up and held it out to her, but she only laughed.

  “I read the news on my phone. Just throw it in the recycling bin.”

  I held the thin paper in my hand for a minute before following her into the living room. “If you read it on your phone, then why do you get the paper?”

  Grandma sighed like it was obvious. “Because by getting the paper, I’m supporting two local businesses—the newspaper and the recycling company.”

  I supposed she was right and sat down in the chair across the room, opening the newspaper to see just what was in the Peace Pointe Chronicle.

  Peace Pointe, Florida, was a quiet town filled with restaurants, shops, and old people. As I flipped through the paper, I could see that reflected in its contents—coupons galore, a Health and Fitness section that focused this week on high cholesterol and took up nearly half of the paper, and a robust list of activities in town whose length was only rivaled by the obituary section.

  Grandma put her phone next to her on the couch. “It’s so sad to read about the budget cuts. I don’t think people realize how much it’s going to affect them. It has a trickle-down effect that people just don’t think about. People lose their jobs, roads don’t get fixed, school programs get cut, the police department has to cut back…it’s just a bad situation all around.”

  I hadn’t read anything about budget cuts so I flipped through the paper again and found a small article mentioning it on page two, right below an article about the benefits of square dancing.

  “I can’t believe you haven’t mentioned anything about your excitement this afternoon.” Grandma smirked at me from across the room.

  “How do you know about that?”

  “I know about everything that happens in this town.” She stood up and winked at me. “Don’t go thinking this changes anything about you being in the meetings. If anything, it just proves this is a dangerous situation and I don’t want you involved.”

  She walked in the kitchen to make some tea and I followed her. “Come on!” I protested. “I’m sure I can help in some way.”

  Grandma Dean put a kettle on the stove. “This is getting a little too high-profile for us. I’m not sure we’ll even be able to help Artie Henson, especially if he can’t control his anger.”

  “So, you’re telling me you’re just going to leave this to the police?”

  “I’m saying there’s a good chance we will. Now, what should we have for dinner?”

  Grandma Dean opened the refrigerator and her phone rang in the living room. She casually disappeared to retrieve it and when she walked back into the kitchen, she was white as a sheet.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, running to her.

  She looked at me as tears filled her eyes. “Artie’s dead.”

  * * *

  It didn’t take long for the Grannies to arrive. I made enough tea for everyone and watched as one by one they trickled in, sniffling and hugging Grandma Dean.

  “What happened to him?” Grandma Dean asked the group.

  “Artie and Stan were at Pastrami Pete’s. They had just left the police station after they gave their statements.” Greta got choked up and put her hand to her mouth to hold back the sobs that wanted to escape. “Virginia and I were there.”

  Virginia reached around and looped Greta’s arm in hers. “We didn’t see it happen, thankfully. The guys passed us on their way to their table and said hello. Since it’s such a beautiful day, they were going to sit outside.”

  “I just had my hair done,” Greta cried. “Otherwise, we would’ve sat out there too.”

  “All the sudden, we heard this pop-pop noise. Then there was screaming. We rushed to the patio and Artie was on the ground, bleeding from his chest.” Virginia could barely get the words out.

  “He died with a pickle in his hand.” Greta sobbed and Virginia pulled her close to comfort her.

  Hattie gave a tsk-tsk sound. “No one should die with a pickle in their hand. That’s picnic food, for goodness sakes!”

  Virginia continued, “We followed the ambulance to the hosp
ital and we weren’t there long when we found out he didn’t make it. We called you from the hospital.”

  It was silent for a minute while everyone took in the news. I suddenly felt guilty for wishing the car had hit him earlier. “I saw him at the coffee shop today. I was there when someone nearly ran over him.”

  “We know,” Irene said, pulling out her phone. “He texted us and told us what happened while Detective Owen drove them to the police station. He said ‘Poodles’ was there too so, we all just assumed that was you.”

  She handed me her phone and sure enough, there was the text with a picture of a poodle emoji at the end of it. My guilt quickly faded away.

  “We’ve got to get this SOB,” Hattie said, pounding the table with her wrinkled fist. “He took out one of our own. Nobody messes with a retiree and gets away with it!”

  Grandma Dean cleared her throat loudly and made a quick nod in my direction.

  “Oh come on!” I yelled. “Let me stay! I can help!”

  “I’m sorry,” Grandma Dean said sympathetically. “We need to discuss this in private.”

  I sighed and started toward the living room door that led outside to the pool. That was usually where I was exiled during one of Grandma’s meetings.

  “Hold on, honey,” Virginia called from the kitchen.

  I came back in and stood by the table while she searched through her purse.

  “I have something in here…” She rummaged around and pulled out a little container. “Here, hold out your hand.” I did and she poured out a few green Tic Tacs. “There you go,” she said, smiling. “You can freshen your breath a bit while you’re out there!”

  Gee, thanks.

  “Oh, I have something too!” Greta reached for her white, leather bag and pulled out a package of Hostess Cupcakes. Now we were talking!

  “Wait, wait!” yelled Hattie. “Here, in case you get thirsty!” She handed me a tiny can of prune juice. I secretly shuddered.

  Irene searched her bag and gave me a stick of nicotine gum and a horoscope magazine.

  “Thanks,” I said halfheartedly, making my way to the back door and out to the pool.

  I sat in a lounger and was relieved that Lloyd, the resident ladies’ man, wasn’t anywhere in sight. If he wasn’t going on dates with the women, he was sitting by the pool in his speedo and silk robe. My heart sank when I saw him walk out of his door and head my way.

  “Hello there, gorgeous!” He took a seat next to me and eyed my granny gifts. “You going to chew that?” he said, pointing to the gum.

  I handed it to him. “I didn’t know you were a smoker.”

  He popped the gum into his mouth. “I’m not. But I accidentally got hooked on the stuff a few years ago.”

  I laughed. “How did you get hooked on nicotine gum?”

  He leaned back in his lounger and opened his silk robe to the sun. I grimaced and turned away.

  “Irene used to smoke and always wanted a cigarette after sex. But then when she quit and went to the gum, she’d pop a piece and offer me one.”

  “So, you took it?!”

  “Of course. I wasn’t going to look weak in front of my lady!”

  I just shook my head. To each his own, I guessed.

  “Good times,” he said, smacking his gum loudly. “Goooood times.”

  Thankfully, Grandma Dean opened her door and motioned for me.

  “Gotta go, Lloyd,” I said, getting up quickly.

  “But…” he stammered as he sat up. “We just started to talk.”

  “Sorry,” I said, walking away. Then I turned to him. “Here, you can have this.” I tossed him the prune juice.

  “Oh!” he said happily. “It’s the good brand!”

  I quickly made my way to Grandma, who was still standing in the doorway. “Your meeting over all ready?”

  “I just wanted you to know that we’re stepping out for a little while. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so you’ll have to have dinner on your own.”

  I peered around her. The Grannies were all waiting for her at the front door.

  As I watched her walk away, a pinch of worry gripped my stomach. I didn’t know exactly what she was up to, but I knew it probably wasn’t good…or safe.

  Chapter 4

  Grandma Dean didn’t get home until around midnight. I had been worried sick about her and when she came in, I was like a mother angry with her daughter for missing curfew. “Where were you? I’ve been worried sick, pacing these floors and wondering what could’ve happened to you! The least you could’ve done was answered one of my texts!”

  “Sorry,” she said, throwing her purse on the counter and walking to the sink to pour herself a glass of water. She opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of painkillers. I had been living there two months and I had never seen her take any kind of medication.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She swallowed two pills. “I’m fine. Just a little out of practice for the kind of snooping around we did tonight.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  “Nothing.” She sighed and sunk down at the kitchen table. “Virginia and Greta are still out looking. They can’t let this thing go. They’re pretty shook up about it.”

  Grandma stood up and rubbed her face. She looked exhausted. “I’m heading to bed. The funeral is on Thursday if you want to go.”

  * * *

  The next morning, we were up early and headed to our shop downtown. We were both feeling a little glum, but our spirits lifted as soon as we walked in the store. The bright white and pink interior filled us both with happiness and soon we were working, getting our store ready for the grand opening in a few days.

  After a little while, Grandma disappeared and came back with something in her hand.

  “This came for you yesterday,” she said, handing me an envelope. “I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you right away. I completely forgot about it after what happened to Artie.”

  “That’s okay,” I said, taking the envelope. I looked down to see who it was from and felt my breath leave my lungs. It was from Bo.

  I looked up at Grandma Dean, who was standing there watching me. “If it’s okay with you, I think I’ll read this outside.”

  “Of course,” she said with a soothing smile as she moved aside so I could get past her.

  I walked out into the morning sunshine and noticed a bench two stores down. I made my way over and sat down, holding the envelope in front me, afraid to open it. This must be a reply to the letter I had sent him two weeks ago.

  A few weeks ago, I had looked him up on one of his social media pages and saw a picture of him with Darcy McGee. She had her arm around him and they were smiling. I was furious when I saw it. He was my fiancée and he was supposed to wait for me while I figured things out in Florida. But it looked like he had quickly moved on. I wrote him a letter and told him how hurt I was. Of course, I left out my kiss with Joe and my date/not date with Detective Owen.

  I slid my finger under the sealed flap and pulled out the folded piece of paper. When I saw his handwriting, something in my heart twisted. I didn’t know what the letter would say, but I already had tears in my eyes. I missed him.

  Nikki, I was so happy to get a letter from you. It’s been difficult not reaching out to you but I wanted you to have your space to figure things out. I was a little surprised about your anger toward Darcy. You remember that she’s my cousin, right? She’s getting married and we all met at the Wooden Pickle to celebrate. You would’ve had a great time. After a few beers we had a darts competition and Trevor took a dart to the butt. We all had a good laugh. We talked about you a lot. Everyone misses you but I don’t think anyone misses you as much as I do. I love you Nikki. I hope you’re doing well in Florida. I know I shouldn’t say this but I hope you come home soon.

  Love, Bo

  I felt like such a fool. I had completely forgotten that Darcy was his cousin. He handled it so well. I would’ve been furious if I had gotten the kind of letter I sent
him. He was more mature than I was, that was for sure.

  I reread the letter and couldn’t help but laugh about Trevor’s little accident. He was my brother-in-law, married to my sister Amber, and I couldn’t stand him. The feeling was mutual. He was the one thing in Illinois I was happy to get away from.

  I held the paper to my nose and breathed in, hoping to catch even a hint of Bo’s scent. Suddenly, something caught my attention just over the top of the letter. The same guy that I caught staring at me the day before was staring at me now from across the street!

  I slammed the letter down on my lap and the mystery guy took off down the street. This was getting weird. I tucked the letter back in the envelope and walked back to our store.

  “Everything okay?” Grandma called after me when I walked in.

  I shrugged. “I guess so, other than the fact that I’m a complete idiot.”

  “What did you do now?” Grandma Dean laughed.

  “Remember that girl I saw Bo with in that picture? Well, it turns out it was his cousin.”

  Grandma cringed.

  “I know. Thankfully, Bo was very nice about it.” I handed her the letter and when she giggled, I knew she got to the part about Trevor. She knew we had a bad relationship, she just didn’t know why. No one did and I intended to keep it that way.

  “So, what now?” Grandma said, handing the letter back to me.

  “I don’t know,” I whined. “I’m even more confused now than ever.” I sat down on a white loveseat outside the little fitting room and put my head in my hands. Grandma Dean came over and sat next to me.

  “I know that you love him,” she started slowly, “but it also seems that maybe you’ve developed some feelings for Joe…and possibly Detective Owen.”

  My head shot up. “I do not have feelings for Detective Owen!”

  “Okay, okay. Maybe not him. But do you have feelings for Joe?”

  I sighed. “Maybe. I don’t know.” I put my head back in my hands. “Why do I keep doing this?” I mumbled through my hands. “Why can’t I just be like everyone else and find a guy and settle down?”

 

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