by Nancy Martin
Rose turned off her light again and nestled down in the bed, listening to the small sounds Susannah made as she prepared for the night.
Before I die, I want to be sure Susannah is happy, she thought just before she went to sleep.
In the morning, Rose woke up late and felt decidedly sluggish. She wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, but she heard noises in the kitchen and eventually worked up the energy to go downstairs. She found Susannah already preparing breakfast for the two of them. Her granddaughter had made tea in a big pot and fussed over Rose as she sat down at the table in her bathrobe. No mention was made of Joe Santori, and Susannah seemed content to bustle about the kitchen chatting.
“What about your vacation plans?” Rose asked as she sipped tea from the cup Susannah had poured for her. “Have you talked to Roger?”
“I’ll call him later today,” Susannah promised. “He likes to sleep in on Sundays. In the meantime, I’d like to help you get ready for the holidays. What can I do?”
Party preparations were one of Rose’s favorite pastimes. She warmed to the subject eagerly. “Well, after church, I was hoping you’d come up to the attic with me and go through the Christmas decorations.”
Susannah laughed. “That sounds like an all-day expedition. Of course, I’ll do it. You shouldn’t be climbing around up there.”
“I do it all the time. And tomorrow, if you’re still in town, how about getting me a Christmas tree? I can’t start decorating the parlor until I have a proper tree. Would you take me shopping for one?”
“Of course!”
Susannah finished making breakfast, then sat down at the table. As they ate, they made more plans. When she’d washed the dishes and wiped off the countertops, they both went upstairs to dress for church.
The rest of the day passed peacefully enough, and Rose decided Susannah was enjoying getting back into the swing of life in Tyler. At the church service, she chatted with several of Rose’s friends from the Quilting Circle and received warm welcomes back to town. After church, she drove her grandmother home for a light lunch of leftover tuna salad on toast.
The afternoon was spent rummaging in the attic for Christmas decorations. And once Susannah had carried the boxes downstairs, it was impossible not to open them and start spreading Christmas cheer all over the house. Rose loved seeing her home swathed in its Christmas finery.
The house was particularly suited to the Christmas season because of its large windows, handsome woodwork and long staircase. With pleasure, Rose helped Susannah place candles in all the windows and hang a red-wreathed hunting horn on the front door. Later she’d make a garland of evergreen bows, laden with fruit and nuts, to twine around the staircase railing.
Around three o’clock, the telephone rang, and Rose picked up the receiver to hear Joe Santori’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Hi, Mrs. A.,” he said cheerfully. “How are you feeling?”
“Why is my health suddenly so interesting to everyone?” she growled. “Was my picture on the front page of the newspaper this week or something?”
Joe laughed. “I must have missed that issue.” He made conversation for a while and finally got around to asking about the house repairs. He listened to Rose’s wishes and gave her some ballpark prices for certain items. Then he asked after Susannah.
“Is she still there?” he asked Rose.
“Why? Did you think you scared her out of town last night?”
He chuckled. “It would take more than me to chase Miss Suzie out of anywhere she wanted to be. She’s quite a woman.”
“I agree,” Rose declared. “Would you like to talk to her?”
“Please.”
Rose called Susannah to the phone and left the kitchen so her granddaughter could have some privacy. Judging by Susannah’s bright eyes as she accepted the receiver, however, Rose guessed she didn’t mind talking to Joe.
But Rose didn’t get a chance to find out what transpired during their call. Mrs. Dahlstrom appeared at the front door with a plate of warm cookies, saying she’d been baking that day and wanted to share her new recipe. Rose ended up talking with her friend for nearly an hour, and Susannah joined them without commenting on her talk with Joe. Then they finished decorating, and ate a light supper sitting in front of the television, watching “60 Minutes.”
By evening, Rose was pleasantly tired and had forgotten about Joe.
“So we’ll get a tree tomorrow?” she asked over cups of hot cocoa before bedtime. She sipped from her cup while Susannah meticulously arranged the hand-carved figurines in the crèche.
“First thing in the morning, if that’s what you want,” Susannah promised.
“Early bird catches the worm—or the nicest Christmas trees.”
“I wonder,” Susannah said slowly and with studied nonchalance, “if you’d mind if we ran another errand while we’re out?”
“I don’t mind at all. What kind of errand?”
Rose noticed that Susannah kept her face turned away as she adjusted a few of the shepherds and said, “I accidentally came home with Joe’s scarf on last night. I’d like to return it to him.”
“Sounds like fun,” Rose said after just a split second’s hesitation. “I’d like to see how you two behave around each other.”
Susannah sat up straight and looked mortified. “Granny Rose, don’t you dare embarrass me in front of Joe!”
Rose laughed. “Would I do such a thing to you, Suzie?”
“If it suited your purposes, yes!”
Still chuckling, Rose carried their empty cups toward the kitchen. “If I didn’t know you better, darling, I’d say you were a little nervous about seeing Joe again.”
“Why would you say a thing like that?”
“Because you just put the donkey in the manger!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
IN THE CAR the next morning, Rose decided she couldn’t put off breaking the news to Susannah any longer.
After they were both buckled into their seat belts and Susannah was reaching for the ignition, Rose said, “I took the liberty of butting into your life, darling, by calling the Santori house this morning.”
Susannah dropped the car keys. “Granny Rose, you promised not to interfere!”
“I promised nothing of the kind,” Rose said with a regal lift of her nose. “For that false accusation, I may not tell you what I learned.”
“You’re bursting to tell me, so get it out.”
“All right—I talked to Gina. I didn’t want you to drive us over to Joe’s house only to discover he’s off working somewhere, because you’d just leave the scarf with his daughter and let matters drop.”
Susannah’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “What did you do, Granny Rose?”
“I asked Gina where her father would be working today, and she told me. We have to drive out to Timberlake, the Ingalls family lodge, if we want to see Joe in person, and I know you do.”
“What if his friend Angelica wants to see him, too?”
“Why are you worried about another woman, Suzie? You’re so beautiful and charming that Joe couldn’t possibly choose anyone else—”
“I’m not in a competition, Granny Rose. If Joe has a good relationship with someone, I’m not going to go vamping around to break them up. It’s wrong, not to mention embarrassing! If it’s even true, that is.”
“What? What do you mean?”
Susannah bent down and picked up the car keys. “Nothing. Just something that occurred to me last night after I went to bed.”
“Oh? You didn’t sleep well?”
Susannah gave an exasperated sigh. “I slept well enough, thank you very much. I just wasn’t especially sleepy, that’s all. I got to thinking about Gina Santori.”
“What about her?”
“Don’t get that gleam in your eye again, please. I won’t have you plotting anything for my benefit, all right? I’m serious, Granny Rose. Stop the matchmaking.”
“All right,” said Rose, lying
through her teeth.
“Promise?”
Rose looked out the car window as Susannah started her car and pulled out of the parking space. “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it? I love seeing sunlight glistening on the snow.”
“You’re changing the subject, Granny Rose.”
“What subject?”
Susannah sighed again.
Rose smiled.
* * *
TIMBERLAKE LODGE, a fine old summer house up on the lake that needed extensive renovations, had provided Joe with a steady income for several months. But he had come to see the lodge as something more than money in his pocket. He really liked the old place. It was a beautiful, rambling building with a long veranda, from which the view of the lake was breathtaking.
Joe enjoyed working at the lodge.
And he didn’t mind that it was haunted.
“There’s no ghost,” Liza Baron Forrester insisted. She was the granddaughter of Judson Ingalls, who owned the lodge, and Liza had moved into the place the previous summer. “That’s just a silly story that got started around town. The lodge is not haunted.”
“Whatever you say, Liza.” Joe strapped on his tool belt and proceeded into the entrance hall where he was currently working. “Then the weird sound I hear when I’m pounding nails is just the wind, right?”
“Right.”
Joe chuckled. “You’re the boss. To tell the truth, I wouldn’t mind the ghost if there really was one. She’s a nice ghost.”
“She?” Liza followed him into the entrance. “Why do you say it’s a she?”
“I dunno. Just a feeling, I guess. Why?”
“Cliff says the same thing,” she mumbled.
Liza was one of the most spectacular women Joe had ever met. She had style and flash. Her long blond hair could have done justice to a movie star, and her face, though not exactly beautiful, was very striking. She was also tall and lean, with a way of walking that reminded Joe of a languid leopard.
Prone to flashes of anger as well as artistic brilliance, she was perhaps the most temperamental woman Joe had ever known, too. Even the earrings she was wearing suggested that. From one ear dangled an angel, and in the other ear Liza wore a devil with a naughty grin on its face.
People around town predicted that her marriage to the reclusive Cliff Forrester would soon tame her down a little, but Joe doubted it. He suspected Liza would remain a fiery, exciting woman until her dying day.
“Well,” said Joe, changing the subject, “my crew will get here as soon as they finish fixing up the studio in Nora’s garage. What do you want us to work on this week?”
With a frown still lingering on her brow, she sat down on the rolled-up Oriental rug that lay in a corner, out of the path of the flying sawdust. She folded her legs and put her chin in the palm of one hand to gaze at the large room around them. It was a pose Joe had come to recognize as Liza’s thinking position.
At last she said, “I think you’d better finish the trim work in here first. My granddad has all but finalized the sale of the lodge to Eddie Wocheck, so he doesn’t have to show it again. But we’re still going to have our big Christmas party here—I finally talked Mom and Granddad into it. It would be nice if this room, too, were finished.”
“Okay. That’ll take only a day or so. Then what?”
Liza sighed, toying with her angel earring. “You’ve done such a great job on all the main areas, Joe—I think everything’s all set for the party.... My grandmother’s bedroom is next, I guess. There’s an old mirror I’d like to get rid of, but it seems to be bolted to the wall. I’m afraid to touch it, since I’ve been known to bring sections of the roof down around our ears when I get out my crowbar.”
“I’ll take a look.” Joe began piling lengths of old trim board on the floor far from the beautiful rug. When Liza showed no signs of getting up, he commented, “You don’t seem too excited about selling the lodge.”
Liza gave him a lazy grin. “It’s not mine to sell, so I don’t have much input on the decision. My granddad is determined to get rid of it. There are too many bad memories for him here. And since we found out that my grandmother...that the body...”
“I heard about it, Liza, that it really was Margaret’s body we found up here in the summer. I’m really sorry....”
Suddenly stricken, Liza shook her head. “She disappeared so long ago, and all my life I thought she might be out there somewhere.... Poor Mom! And poor Granddad! It really broke his heart!”
“Do you think so?”
Liza looked sharply at Joe. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shifted a bit uncomfortably. “You know how people love to speculate.”
Her gaze began to burn and she snapped, “What are they saying now?”
Joe shrugged. “They’re wondering who killed Margaret Ingalls, and why.”
“Do they think Granddad did it?”
That surprised Joe, and he dropped a long section of trim board with a clatter. “Judson? No, nobody’s said that. At least, not to me.”
With a twinge of bitterness, Liza said, “Well, that won’t last.”
Joe didn’t want Liza to think he was pumping her for information, but he couldn’t help being curious about the mystery that had consumed the whole town for months. “What do you think happened to your grandmother?”
“I don’t know.” Liza got to her feet and flung her long hair back over her shoulder. “But I’m trying to find out. I have a feeling whatever the answer is, it’s not going to be good for my family.”
“Have the police uncovered anything else?”
“Not much. Chief Schmidt was trying to track down my grandmother, but his leads went nowhere—and no wonder! She wasn’t out leading a wild life somewhere, she was buried here at the lodge. The cops finally found her dental records and matched them with the body.”
“The investigation’s really picked up now the chief has retired, it looks like.”
“Right. His replacement’s a real go-getter. She came over with Brick Bauer when he told us about...about my grandmother.”
“I heard the new chief was a woman. Too bad Brick didn’t get the position—he would have done a good job.”
Suddenly Liza’s worried brow cleared, like sunshine after a rain. She smiled, and her expression matched the devilish face that swung from her left ear. “I wonder what Brick thinks of working for a woman?”
Joe found himself laughing, too. “Oh, a woman might do a lot of good where Brick is concerned.”
With her hands cocked on her hips, Liza eyed Joe and said mockingly, “I wouldn’t talk, if I were you, Mr. Eligible Single Santori. There are a lot of people who think a woman would do you a world of good, too.”
“I’ve got my daughter to contend with,” he shot back. “That’s enough woman for one household. What about you? How’s married life?”
If it were possible, her smile grew even more naughty. “It’s wonderful, thanks. After the uproar of the wedding, things have settled into a very nice groove.”
“And Cliff?” Joe genuinely liked the man who had lived at the lodge for years with very little human contact. A casualty of some horrifying experiences in Southeast Asia, Cliff had been a recluse until Liza burst into his life. Now, just a few months after meeting, they were happily married and living in the lodge boathouse, a small building that Liza had transformed into an idyllic love nest, perfect for a pair of newlyweds who didn’t care to have a lot of contact with the rest of the world.
“Cliff’s okay,” Liza reported. “He still has his moments, but it’s been a big relief to have his brother in town when things get tough. I don’t expect miracles, though.”
“I’ll bet,” Joe said, “Cliff considers you a miracle.”
Surprisingly, Liza blushed and laughed. “Only in bed,” she retorted, making Joe laugh, too.
They were interrupted by the crunch of car tires in the gravel of the driveway.
“Visitors?” Joe asked.
“I’m
not expecting anybody. I’ll go see who it is.”
“Hang on a minute.” Joe stopped her and began digging into the pocket of his flannel shirt. “I found something last week that I meant to give you. Here.”
“What is it?”
Liza frowned at the slug of metal Joe dropped into her upturned palm.
“It’s a bullet.”
She jerked her head up to look at Joe, her gaze piercing his for the truth. “A bullet?”
Joe nodded, attempting to keep his expression bland. “I found it in a baseboard I was ripping up last week. I thought you might want to keep it.”
“Why?”
Joe didn’t answer. When he’d found the bullet, he’d realized the significance of his discovery. Someone had been shooting in the lodge many years ago, and one bullet had ended up embedded in the woodwork. How it had got there was none of Joe’s business. But it might be Liza’s.
Liza’s expression changed, and she closed her hand around the bullet. “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll hang on to this.”
Joe nodded, glad to have the bullet out of his possession. He could have turned it over to the police, but with the recent changes in the department, he wasn’t sure who would do the right thing with such evidence. Besides, Joe felt a certain loyalty to Liza. She had helped him out by providing him with steady work for a long time. If she wanted the police to have the bullet, she’d take care of that herself.
He patted her shoulder rather than verbalize his feelings. “Shall we see who’s outside?’
It was Susannah Atkins’s station wagon parked in the driveway, and when Joe stepped out onto the veranda and saw the car, he felt his heart do a strange flip-flop in his chest.
“Hey,” said Liza, sounding startled. “Isn’t that ‘Oh, Susannah!’?”
“Why, Liza, you’re becoming positively domesticated. Why are you watching ‘Oh, Susannah!’?”
“Doesn’t everybody? Hi, Mrs. Atkins!”
Rose Atkins climbed out of the passenger seat and waved merrily at Liza. “Hello, Liza! Don’t you look pretty today?”
Susannah got out of the car much more slowly, and for a few moments she had the look of a martyr on her way to the stake. But Joe caught her eye and held it while Rose and Liza chatted, and soon her face began to glow with fresh color. For a split second, Joe felt as if the whole world had narrowed to just the two of them.
