by Sharon Dunn
Alice nodded. “That would be the fastest way to get through this stack.”
They both filed through, checking the top page of each edition.
Annie stopped and stared down at the May 15, 1999, edition which featured a photograph of a mangled car. The headline read “Woman Dies in Car Crash.”
Annie put her finger on the paper. “Here.” She read out loud. “‘A woman identified as Marie Gilkerson died in a one-car rollover.’”
Alice scooted toward her and looked over her shoulder. “It doesn’t say anything about relatives or a funeral service.”
“She was from out of town. Look, it says here she was from Michigan. Her name and where she was from is information they probably got off her license.” Annie stared at the picture of the twisted car.
“That’s a long way to come. She left without getting the stock certificates. She must have left in a hurry.”
Annie sat back on her box. “The name in the article isn’t Therese Marie; it’s just Marie.”
“Maybe the reporter shortened it or just got it wrong. Plus you know how some people drop their first names and go by their middle names. The important thing is that her last name was Gilkerson.”
“I suppose you are right.” Annie mulled the information over in her mind. Someone had to have come to claim the body.
“I don’t recognize that reporter’s name. Mike mostly gets high school students to help him. I doubt he is around anymore.”
“He probably wouldn’t be able to tell us anything more. Really, it looks like he just worked off the police report.” Annie filed through several more issues, hoping to find a follow-up story. “She comes into town. Probably to get the stocks …”
“She must have found out about the stock two years after Joan left it there,” Alice said. “Otherwise, she would have come back sooner.”
“That has to be it. Joan must have told her.” Annie closed the newspaper and put it on her stack.
Mike stuck his head in the door. “Finding what you need?”
Annie held up the article. “Do you know anything else besides what is in this article?”
Mike tugged on his mustache. “I do remember the state police came down to do an investigation into the cause of the accident.”
Alice craned her neck and turned sideways in the lawn chair. “What did they find out?”
“No drugs or alcohol, didn’t hit another car or a deer. She was just going way too fast.”
“Estelle did say she seemed nervous at the restaurant,” Annie said. “Something must have scared her, and made her want to leave town fast.” She set the old issue back in the stack. “Do you know who came for the body?”
“That was the saddest part.” Mike shook his head. “It’s not something you put in an article.”
A lump formed in Annie’s throat. “You mean no one came.”
Mike nodded. The front door buzzed, indicating that Mike had a customer. “Excuse me, ladies.”
They both stayed for a moment in the quiet room.
Alice spoke up. “Maybe you were right all along. Joan didn’t come back for the body or the certificates because she couldn’t come back. Joan is dead too.”
Annie tried to ignore the sorrow that welled up inside her over this last bit of news. “I really need to get home and get a nap so I can finish that project. Last night was a long night.”
“Let’s go then. You can crash at my place if the police aren’t gone.”
Annie rose to her feet and picked up her purse. “Thanks.”
After saying goodbye to Alice, Annie drove to Grey Gables. She was relieved to see that the police car was no longer parked outside. She dragged herself up the stairs and trudged across the porch. She wandered into the living room and collapsed on the couch.
Just a short nap. That was all she needed. Her limbs felt like they were made of lead, and her eyelids were heavy. She had a dozen things she needed to do today, and half the day was already gone. She folded her legs underneath her and rested her head against a pillow.
Yes, she did have a ton to do for the presentation ceremony, but she couldn’t do anything if she was exhausted. The fog of sleep filled her brain. She tried to make a mental list of what she needed to get done. Finish the project and call Katrina …
She snuggled her head against the couch pillow and drifted off to sleep. Boots curled up against her stomach.
She awoke to a buzzing sound. Where was that noise coming from? Her thoughts were still trapped in whatever dream she had been having.
Annie sat up, trying to clear her head. It took her a second to realize the noise was the doorbell. Annie stood up, a bit unsteady on her feet.
“I’m coming.” How long had she been asleep? She stumbled toward the door. A glance out the window at the graying sky told her that it was early evening. She’d slept for at least six hours. When she opened the door, an older woman dressed in a tailored navy suit stood on her porch.
“Hello, I’m Joan Whitlock. I understand that you have been looking for me.” The woman tugged on the sleeve of her suit.
A gentle breeze could have knocked Annie over. “Yes, I—” Annie shook her head. In the light that spilled out from the living room, Annie studied the woman in front of her. Softly etched crow’s-feet surrounded her eyes, which were dull with fatigue. She was shorter than Annie. Her shoulders curved slightly forward. Somehow she had pictured Joan Whitlock as being a more sophisticated and intimidating figure. “So you are Joan Whitlock?”
“Yes,” The woman wetted her lips. “I know this is kind of a surprise. I have I.D.”
Annie pressed her fingers into the door, debating what to do. The person in the house last night had been a man. Was Joan working with him? She hesitated to invite this woman into her home. “So what prompted you to come back now?”
The woman’s gaze darted from one side of the porch to the other as though she thought someone might be watching her. “Actually, I am kind of in a hurry. I’m just passing through town.”
“Oh really, where from?” She tried to keep her tone friendly. Maybe she wasn’t completely processing what had just happened because her head hadn’t cleared from deep sleep. Though she had longed for Joan to make an appearance, having her show up now just seemed … off.
“I drove up from New Hampshire. If you don’t mind …” The woman stepped inside the house and looked around. “I do really need those certificates.”
Annie took a step back. She didn’t want to come off as inhospitable, but it had just been last night that she thought Joan was in hiding and breaking into Grey Gables on a regular basis. And just this morning, Alice had speculated that Joan was dead. “How did you hear that I had found the stock certificates?” She struggled to keep the interrogating tone out of her voice.
“I’ve kept in touch with some people from Stony Point.” Joan walked around the living room and picked up the ceramic bird Annie had on the windowsill.
Joan’s sudden boldness was off-putting. Annie hesitated at asking her why she hadn’t come forward sooner. Questions played at the corner of her mind. She just hadn’t been prepared for Joan to suddenly show up on her doorstep.
Joan set the bird back on the windowsill. “So you have the certificates, right?”
“I do have them, but they are in a safe-deposit box at the bank.” Turning the certificates over was the answer to all her problems. Why was she dragging her feet?
“Oh, they’re in the bank.” The woman seemed genuinely surprised. She smoothed the front of her suit and tugged on the hem of her blazer. “Like I said, I am only in town for the day. I suppose the bank is closed by now. I’ll have to spend the night. I’d be happy to go with you first thing tomorrow.”
Annie glanced up at the clock. Six o’clock. She hadn’t realized how long she had slept. “I have a really busy day tomorrow. I am helping with a ceremony at the hospital. It would be something you would be interested in. Some local women and teens have made layettes, using their skills as needlecraft artis
ts.” The statement was intended as bait. Annie waited for Joan’s reaction.
Joan lifted her chin slightly. “Being an editor of that craft magazine was a lifetime ago.”
She certainly knew the right answers. Maybe this was the real Joan. Annie needed to buy some time, consult the Hook and Needle Club, maybe even tell the police. “I have a really busy day tomorrow. I’ll get the certificates before the bank closes, but I won’t be able to get together with you until after the ceremony.”
Joan’s cheek twitched slightly. “I suppose if that is the way it has to be.”
“I know this is an inconvenience.” Annie rested her hands on the back of the couch. “You’ll have to stay overnight.”
“If that is what we have to do.” Again, the woman bristled and then tugged on the sleeves of her suit.
“We could meet at The Cup & Saucer. I can call you when the ceremony is over.”
“Why don’t we just set a time?” The woman’s words were clipped, her tone impatient.
“All right; for sure I will be done by eight o’clock.” Annie grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. “I’ll be running around quite a bit. I’ll give you my cell number in case the plan changes.” She handed Joan the piece of paper.
“All right, then.” She folded the piece of paper and put it in her purse. “We’ll be in touch.” She locked gazes with Annie. A moment later, she turned her back toward Annie and headed toward the door.
“Wait,” said Annie. “I guess I would like to see that I.D.”
The woman pivoted, eyebrows raised, but her voice remained calm. “Certainly.” She pulled out a leather pocketbook and flipped it open.
Annie stared at the driver’s license for Joan Whitlock. She didn’t know that much about I.D., but it looked real. “Sorry, I just felt like I should ask.”
Joan flipped the pocketbook shut. “I understand.”
Still in a daze, Annie listened to the woman’s footsteps echoing on the wooden floor. The door swung open and closed. Annie ran to the window and watched as the woman got into an older model Buick.
She touched her hand to her chest. All she had to do tomorrow was go to the bank and give Joan the stock certificates. This is what she had wanted, to have this whole thing over and done with. But the pieces just didn’t fit. Who was the man in her house last night? And why all of a sudden did Joan come forward? Word about the stock certificates had been swirling around Stony Point hours after she had found them. Why would Joan’s “friends” wait so long to tell her? It could be that the break-ins had nothing to do with the stock certificates. She shook her head. Somehow, she just knew that all this was connected. She really needed to talk to someone about this.
She phoned Alice, but got no answer. She’d just have to try to find time to call her tomorrow.
Annie picked up her crochet project. She could finish this tonight. As her hook formed the yarn into concise stitches, she worked through what the arrival of Joan meant. She felt unsettled rather than relieved. Joan had the right answers, yet something didn’t feel right. It was a small thing, but both Linda Hunter at the Maplehurst and Estelle had described Joan as being elegant and sophisticated. Maybe the years had chipped away at Joan’s sense of style and her personality, but the woman who had come to the door seemed uncomfortable in her suit. When people talked about Joan, she sounded like a woman with a degree of finesse. This woman had come across as direct, almost bossy.
Annie heard a loud crash upstairs. Old fears returned until she realized Boots wasn’t in the living room. She ran up the stairs to the attic. The would-be thief had left the door at the bottom of the stairs to the attic open. Annie hadn’t even had time to go through the house since the police had been here.
As if the attic couldn’t be cluttered enough, it looked as though the culprit had simply become frantic and started emptying boxes and flipping open trunks, even pulling cushions off of couches. Boots came out from behind a stack of old books.
Annie slumped down on the floor. “Find that mouse for me yet?”
Boots sauntered over to her and rubbed against her leg. Annie spent some time straightening the attic and then worked up the courage to check on the second floor, which only had a few opened drawers, though things had been pulled out of her closet. The thief must have done all of this after Officer Peters had checked the upstairs.
She worked until her stomach started to growl. She headed downstairs. The clock in the kitchen read ten o’clock. She had lost even more time, but at least Grey Gables was back to normal—or as normal as it could be, considering. She fixed herself a cup of tea and a sandwich.
She’d just have to get up early to finish the project. Then she could run to Magruder’s and get the food together that she had promised to bring. So much to do.
She had gone up only two steps to the second floor when she realized she didn’t feel safe sleeping in her bedroom. Being up there was too much of a reminder of the home invasion that had taken place. Annie grabbed the afghan off the back of a chair and settled back down on the couch, pushing the pillow under her cheek and pulling the afghan up to her chin. The afghan was one that she had made and had always given her comfort when she was sick or feeling blue.
Just as she was drifting off, headlights flashed across the window. Annie sprang up and raced to the window just in time to see a police car going by on Ocean Drive. He’d slowed when he went by Grey Gables. She stood at the window until the taillights faded into the distance.
She lay back down on the couch and squeezed her eyes shut. The last thing she needed was a sleepless night.
17
Annie woke with a start when the sun shone through the living room window, warming her face. She took a quick shower and worked at a breakneck pace to finish the blanket for the layette. It was noon by the time she was ready to go into town to get the baking supplies for her share of the refreshments. She grabbed a large handbag that would hold all of the stock certificates. Annie stared into the empty bag. Maybe by the end of the day, the certificates would no longer be her problem.
After getting the groceries, she ran to the hardware store to pick up the banner Mike had made for her that said “Bringing Generations Together.” She swung into Finer Things to see if they had any ideas for last-minute decorating. Annie wandered around the store. Gram had a linen tablecloth, and Alice had promised to bring balloons and a table that she used for her demonstrations. As she wandered the aisles, Annie realized she was procrastinating about getting the stock certificates. She clenched her teeth. She really didn’t have time to waste. Steeling her resolve, Annie left Finer Things, crossed Main Street at Oak, and headed into the bank.
The redheaded teller behind the high counter offered Annie a smile. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Dawson. How may I help you?”
“I need to get into my safe-deposit box.”
The teller came out from behind the counter. She glanced down at Annie’s large bag but said nothing; then she led Annie into the secure room where the boxes were kept. After the teller put her key in the box and then Annie put hers in, she said, “I’ll leave you alone.”
Annie pulled the box out of its slot and set it on the counter. She stared down at the stack of certificates. She unzipped the bag and set it on the counter. Her hands trembled as she pulled the certificates out.
She zipped the bag shut and headed out the door. She hadn’t told Joan she would meet her alone at The Cup & Saucer. The Hook and Needle Club had been with her on this from the beginning. Certainly one of them would be able to come with her to return the certificates. Maybe her perception of Joan was inaccurate, but she needed a second opinion before she gave them up.
Annie swung into A Stitch in Time to make sure everything was all set with Mary Beth. Mary Beth assured her that everything was falling into place. “I’m going to try to get up there early to help you with the decorations.” Her glance fell to the large bag in Annie’s hand. “Did you decide you needed an even bigger purse?”
Annie bit h
er lip. Mary Beth was a dear, but she had a tendency to talk. If she told Mary Beth what was going on, the word would be out to the whole town within the hour. Given that having the stock was like a target painted on her back, Annie opted not to tell her the whole story. Alice was the one she felt comfortable talking to. “I just had some extra stuff I needed to carry around today.”
Mary Beth eyed her for a moment before turning her attention back to the catalog she was flipping through. “We’ll see you later today.”
Annie got home and mixed up a batch of Mexican tea cakes. The phone rang just as she put the first cookie sheet in the oven.
Annie closed the oven door and grabbed the phone. “Hello.”
Alice’s voice came across the line. “I saw on my caller I.D. that you called last night.”
“You will never believe who came to my door last night. Joan Whitlock.”
A heavy silence filled the line. A moment later, Alice said, “Really? So I guess this means the ordeal is over.”
“I’m hoping. It’s just that … I don’t know … the whole thing seems weird.”
“Weird? Do you think this woman is really Joan Whitlock?”
“She answered all my questions, and she had a driver’s license. She knew all about the certificates and asked for them. I reluctantly agreed to meet her later—to give her the goods. I was so taken off guard by her showing up, and there were a ton more questions I could have asked her. About her daughter, for one.” A blast of heat hit Annie when she checked the cookies in the oven.
“Maybe you can ask her more questions tonight before you hand them over to her.”
Annie picked up a spatula. “That’s what I was thinking. Then if something seems fishy, I’ll call the police. I don’t want to use up manpower on another false alarm. You’re a good judge of character. Can you come with me?”
“Sure, I can do that. I’ve got to get back to my baking,” Alice said.
“Thanks, Alice.” Annie hung up. The rest of the afternoon went by in a whir. She finished baking. While the cookies were cooling, she placed the layette into a box she had gotten at Finer Things. She secured the treats in containers. After taking Gram’s tablecloth out of an upstairs closet where it hung, she loaded everything into the car.
