“He seems kind of…weird.”
Grandma looked at me in surprise. “Weird? You think something is wrong with everybody!”
“I do not,” I protested.
“You thought Les was a killer and thanks to your persistence in the matter, we had to have a very unpleasant talk with Larry this morning.”
“No, we had a very unpleasant talk with Larry this morning because Hattie is an idiot.”
Grandma shrugged. I had her there.
It took about ten minutes to drive to Sydnie’s new house. I had never been in that neighborhood before and I couldn’t help but think that it was a major improvement from her last house, which got me thinking. “What’s going to happen to all of Sydnie’s things back in Alabama?”
Grandma pulled into the driveway behind Cliff. “Stan said once it’s safe for him to leave Hattie’s house, they’ll go up and get it all.”
Suddenly, I remembered Joe’s conversation with Detective Owen. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you! Joe ran into Owen yesterday and Owen said this case really has him stumped.”
Grandma sighed. “He’s not the only one.”
“He also said that all of the crimes have either taken place between three and three-thirty or in the evening. What do you think that means?”
“A killer that only strikes, or attempts to strike, at a specific time…”
“And seems to only be after old men,” I added.
“And is willing to use different methods to kill them,” Grandma pointed out.
I looked out the window as Cliff opened the back of his truck and started to remove the furniture with the help of his son. “The only other thing we know about him is that he drives a white car.”
“I hate to say it,” Grandma Dean said with a sigh. “But we might not know anything else until he strikes again.”
I shuddered at the thought. I didn’t want another person hurt or killed by that maniac…unless it was Larry Kramer.
* * *
Two hours later and thanks to the Grannies, all of whom had also brought their donated household items, Sydnie’s house was furnished and looked quite charming. I walked outside and saw Cliff Sinner sitting on the porch steps, clearly exhausted. “Those women are going to kill me one day,” he laughed.
I sat down next to him. “How many trips did you make this morning?”
He let out of a slow breath as he thought about his answer. “Too many,” he finally said. After he finished unloading the furniture from Grandma’s shop, the other Grannies had him make several trips across town to various places to pick up a bed, a table, and a couch. “And from what I hear, they’re not done with me yet!”
“Well, that’s very kind of you to help out like you have.”
He smiled softly. “I’d do anything for your grandmother.”
The way he said it made my eyebrows pop up in surprise. I laughed and nudged his arm. “You have a little thing for her?”
His cheeks turned red and I immediately felt bad for teasing him. He clearly did have a thing for her.
Before he had a chance to answer, the Grannies came spilling out the front door.
Irene walked past us, putting her hand on Cliff’s shoulder for support as she went down the steps. “Let’s go have lunch! I’m so hungry I could eat the south end of a northbound elephant!”
Cliff let out a laugh and stood up. “Even though that’s a disgusting metaphor, it’s the best suggestion I’ve heard all day!”
As we made our way to the car, I watched Cliff head to his truck. He said something to his son on the way that made them both laugh. His son seemed a little slow and the way Cliff took him under his wing was touching. Suddenly, it hit me. What if Cliff was the next target? Would it be just a matter of time before we got a call that he had been shot or poisoned? What would happen to Greg if something happened to Cliff? The feeling of fear in the pit of my stomach quickly turned to determination. We needed to find out who was behind all of this, and we needed to do it fast.
Chapter 17
We arrived at Rosie’s Café minutes later. It was a cute little mom and pop restaurant that the Grannies promised me made the best roast beef sandwich in the world.
I was surprised when Rosie herself came to our table to take our order. We had put three tables together to accommodate all of us—five Grannies, myself, Sydnie and Lily, and Cliff and Greg. Just as we walked in, Cliff’s daughter Candace was heading inside on her lunch break so Cliff invited her to sit with us too.
“Look at this! A table full of Sinners!” Rosie laughed as she handed each of us a menu.
Sydnie’s eyes opened wide and she sat there stunned for a moment.
“I’ll let y’all look over the menu and I’ll be back with some waters.” Rosie disappeared behind a door in the back.
“I can’t believe she said that!” Sydnie’s eyes were still wide.
Greta was sitting next to her and put down her menu. “Said what, dear? What’s wrong?”
“She called us sinners! Like she’s any better than us!”
We couldn’t help but laugh.
Greta patted her arm. “She’s just referring to Cliff and his kids. That’s their last name.”
Sydnie still didn’t seem so sure.
Cliff let out a joyful laugh at the end of the table. “I’ve been a Sinner all my life. Born and raised, just like these two!” He reached his arms around his grown kids and pulled them in close.
“Speak for yourself,” Candace laughed. “I gave that lifestyle up years ago. I’m a Sullivan now.”
Hattie let out a little shriek of laugher. “Once you get to know us a little better, you’ll find out that we’re all sinners. Some of us more than others.”
“Well, if you’re not a sinner, you’re a hypocrite,” Irene said seriously. “Everybody loves a sinner, but nobody loves a hypocrite.”
Her comment was met with agreeable nods and soon everyone was busy looking through the menu. Rosie returned with waters and took our orders. I sat there in amazement as she went around the table, listening to everyone’s lunch choices and not once writing anything down. I was equally impressed several minutes later when she delivered our meals, everything perfect, clear down to Virginia’s choice of cheese and Candace’s whole wheat bun, hold the mustard.
As much as I tried to enjoy my roast beef sandwich, which really was the best one I had ever tasted, I worried as the time creeped closer and closer to the time the killer usually struck. I got more and more paranoid with each minute that passed. I eyed every person that came in the café and every car that drove by. Soon, even Lily’s cute little antics couldn’t take my eyes away from the door or windows.
“You okay?” Grandma Dean’s words, even though they were hushed, made me jump in my seat.
“Fine,” I said quickly, returning my eagle-eyed stare to the door.
“If you’re worried about Sydnie, Stan is paying a bodyguard to keep a close eye on her and Lily.”
“Why would someone come after them?” I asked, confused.
Grandma Dean shrugged. “I don’t know, but it makes Stan feel better.”
I took a deep breath and glanced down at the time. 2:00. That meant I still had at least an hour before we entered the killer’s time frame. I was being ridiculous. There were lots of older men that could be targeted. Surely Cliff wouldn’t be next. Right?
I started to eat my sandwich again, dipping it in the now cold little bowl of au jus when two men walked in. One looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. Apparently, Virginia thought the same thing.
“That guy looks familiar,” she whispered to the group. “The way he looked at us makes me think we look familiar to him too.”
We watched the two men walk up to the counter. The shorter one turned to look at us and when he saw us staring, he quickly turned back around. The man he was with glared at us for a moment before turning back around himself.
“I know who that is!” Hattie exclaimed. “Geraldine, that�
��s the guy you saved last week! The one with the heatstroke!”
Grandma flashed me a quick look. She must not have told the other Grannies yet about the poison.
“You’re right, Hattie!” Greta whispered. “That is him!”
Griffin looked much different standing up and conscious than he did laying on the ground half-dead. I was impressed with Hattie for being able to figure out who he was. Even though he was balding, he looked much younger today than he did when he was sprawled out on the sidewalk.
“Hey!” Hattie shouted to him as he walked by with his lunch in a paper bag. “You’re looking better!”
The man looked up at us, startled by Hattie’s loud greeting.
“Oh yes!” Virginia said. “You’ve gotten your color back!”
“Who’s your friend?” Hattie asked with a wink, nodding to the taller, slightly younger man at Griffin’s side.
Griffin finally spoke, his voice a little shaky. “This is my brother, Morris.”
We all said hello to Morris, who did nothing more than nod. “Come on,” he said gruffly to his brother. “Let’s get you home so you can eat your lunch.”
Hattie wasn’t ready to let them walk away just yet. “How are you feeling?” she asked Griffin.
Griffin shrugged. “Don’t have all my energy back yet, but I’m getting there.”
Morris pushed Griffin along and spoke to us sharply. “If you ladies will excuse us…”
“What’s your hurry?” Irene said. “We could have Rosie add a few more chairs and you could join us. We’d love to get to know you a bit better.”
“Oh yes,” Hattie said, trying to bat her barely-there eye lashes. “You could sit by me.”
Neither Griffin nor Morris seemed interested in Hattie or the lunch invitation. “If you must know,” Morris said gruffly, “I have a meeting in forty-five minutes and I need to get Griffin home and settled in. I’m running behind as it is.”
Grandma Dean looked at her watch then back up at me. I could tell we were thinking the same thing. “If you don’t mind me asking,” Grandma said, looking up at them, “what kind of meeting are you headed to?”
Morris furrowed his brows. “I don’t know how that’s any of your business.” With that, he ushered Griffin along and they disappeared out the door.
Grandma Dean leaned close to me. “I don’t like that man one bit.”
I didn’t either, and judging by the looks he gave us as he left, the feeling was mutual. Which was surprising, since Grandma Dean practically saved his brother’s life.
“Let’s see where he’s going,” Grandma whispered. With that, she stood and said good-bye to everyone at the table. A chorus of “good-byes” rang out. Lily stole everyone’s heart when she waved and blew us kisses with her chubby little hands. That kid was freaking adorable.
We walked outside and saw Morris and Griffin getting in a black Cadillac several cars down. We waited until they pulled out, then carefully followed.
They went through a stop light and we had to stop when it turned red. “We’re losing them!” I shouted.
“Calm down,” Grandma said, reaching for her phone. “Morris said he was taking Griffin home. We just need to find out Griffin’s address.” She Googled his name and handed me the phone when the light turned green. “418 Bryant Street. Put that address in the GPS.”
I typed it in and we followed the directions to the address. Sure enough, as we pulled up on Bryant Street, we could see the black car pulled over up ahead and Griffin, carrying his paper bag.
Grandma pulled into a driveway a block away and we waited until Morris pulled back onto the road before we started following him again. It wasn’t long before I recognized the row of large houses. We had just driven down this street this morning.
“Larry Kramer,” Grandma said as Morris pulled into his driveway. “Why do all the roads seem to lead here?” It was more of a rhetorical question but I wondered the same thing. We watched Morris head up the long sidewalk with a briefcase in hand.
“Should we sit here and watch him?” I asked. “See if they come out in a few minutes to go on a killing spree?”
“Couldn’t hurt,” Grandma said, settling back in her seat.
A few minutes of silence and I was already bored out of my mind. “We’ve never really talked about this but…what do you think about Stan marrying Sydnie? I mean, she was, like, fifty years younger than him.”
Grandma shrugged a little. “He’s an adult, he can do what he wants. I try not to judge.”
“Oh come on! Fifty years older! That’s crazy! And he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would do that! That makes him a…” I stopped. What did that make him? “What do you call a male version of a cougar?”
Grandma thought about it. “A man,” she laughed. “Men can get away with stuff like that. Now if I married a man in his early twenties…” She didn’t even finish her sentence, just trailed off in laughter. “I think it was a marriage of convenience for both of them,” she continued. “Though I do think that Stan loved her. Sydnie… I think she loved his money.”
“And don’t you think it’s crazy how quickly she came to live here?” I pressed. “She literally walked out of her door, with complete strangers, minutes after meeting us! Who does that?”
Grandma took a deep breath and I could tell she was trying to pick her words carefully, though I couldn’t understand why at first. “So, what you’re telling me,” she finally said, “is that you’re questioning why a woman would make such poor choices in who they marry, and then run away from their life, leaving everything behind? Doesn’t that remind you of someone?”
Ouch.
“But I knew you! I didn’t leave with strangers!” I objected once I recovered from the sting.
Grandma stared out the front window. “She obviously wanted to get out of her current situation. It’s hard to raise a child on your own, on one income, especially when you look out your window and see the rest of the world going by and you’re stuck inside with a heart full of broken dreams, unpaid bills, and a pile of dirty diapers.”
Her words struck me. Was she still talking about Sydnie, or herself? Was that why she left my mother to go to Europe? She felt trapped?
Grandma Dean snapped out of her little daydream and turned to me with a weak smile. “I try not to judge. You never really know what people are going through.”
We sat there quietly for another twenty minutes before I couldn’t take it anymore. “Umm, I hate to end this fun, but I have to use the bathroom.”
“Seriously?” Grandma asked.
I nodded.
Grandma sighed and put the car in drive. “You’re the worst stakeout partner ever. We didn’t even make it half an hour.”
“Well, if I would’ve known we were going to do this, I wouldn’t have finished off my second lemonade at lunch.”
“Always be prepared for a stakeout,” Grandma said, pulling on to the road. She glanced at me. “You’re learning a lot of valuable things today. You should be writing them down.”
I picked up my phone and pretended to type as I spoke out loud. “What I learned today… Try to anticipate and prepare for Grandma’s every move.”
Grandma Dean laughed. “That’s about right. And stop calling me Grandma. It makes me sound old.”
Chapter 18
“Good morning,” Greta said as she entered Grandma’s kitchen the next day. She held up a container. “I made some sugar cookies for Lily and I was going to run them by. Do you ladies want to come along?”
Grandma Dean and I had plans to head to our new shop and prepare for the grand opening we had pushed back yet another week. I had some marketing ideas I was excited to share with her. Grandma looked at Greta, then at me, and I knew our plans would have to wait.
Soon we were out the door and headed toward Grandma Dean’s car. “Isn’t it a little too early for cookies?” Grandma asked.
Greta was indignant. “It’s never too early for cookies, is it, Nikki?”
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“Nope. As a matter of fact, if you’d like me to do a quick quality check, I’d be happy to do that for you.”
Greta stopped and opened the lid. Puffy cookies in the shape of hearts, covered in pastel pink frosting, filled the container. I took one and sunk my teeth into it. It practically melted in my mouth. I suddenly wished I had the cookie-making kind of Grandma instead of the always-wear-lip-gloss-and-mascara-and-always-be-classy type.
“Good?” Greta asked.
“Delicious,” I said through a mouthful of sugary goodness.
She smiled with pride.
“Nikki doesn’t need any more sugar,” Grandma Dean scolded her. “She eats enough for us all.”
Greta looked at me and rolled her eyes. Then she pulled out one more cookie and handed it to me with a wink as Grandma walked ahead of us.
“Don’t think I didn’t see that,” Grandma said without turning around.
As we pulled onto Sydnie’s street, Greta was turned around in the front seat, showing me the latest pictures she had taken of Lily. “And here she is after you guys left lunch yesterday. She was eating her ice cream. And this is her sitting in that little chair you guys brought over for her. Oh, and I love this one…”
Grandma Dean suddenly gasped. Greta turned around to look out the front window and I tried to lean between the two front seats to see what had Grandma speechless. Greta and I must have seen it at the same time, because we both let out a gasp that echoed Grandma’s.
Standing at the bottom of the steps that led up to Sydnie’s house was Sydnie, and she wasn’t alone. Her arms were wrapped around a very large man—not large in the weighty sense, but large as in he could bench-press a rhinoceros.
“Who’s that?” Greta asked with her hand over her mouth.
“I think that’s Sydnie’s new bodyguard,” Grandma Dean said with disgust.
I watched her practically clinging to the man, though I couldn’t blame her. Even from this far back, you could tell he was a very good-looking man. And he was obviously much closer to her age than Stan. “Well, it looks like he’s definitely doing something with her body, though I’m not sure I’d call it guarding.”
The Root of All Evil Page 12
