Will You Marry Me? (Sam Darling Mystery Book 4)

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Will You Marry Me? (Sam Darling Mystery Book 4) Page 2

by Jerilyn Dufresne


  "Lost County," I said aloud. "I've never heard of it. Is it even on the map?"

  "Yeah, well, on some maps, and if you look real close," Chip said. "With a magnifying glass. Only one town in the county, and you're in it."

  "Howdy," said the new arrival. "I'm Sheriff Taylor. Jeremiah Taylor." He tipped his hat at me. "Ma'am." And he shook George's hand.

  "George Lansing," my sweetheart said. "And this is Sam Darling."

  I reached out and shook his hand too. Sheriff Taylor was tall and muscular. Quite a bit older than us, I'd guess in his mid to late 60s. His smile covered the whole bottom of his face, and the wrinkles around his blue eyes showed that he was often in the sun and that he smiled a lot. And my mind raced to, I'm glad his first name isn't Andy.

  "So tell me what happened," he said, looking expectantly at both George and me.

  "Well," I said, and explained exactly what occurred. I included the information that my dog was astute and wonderful.

  The sheriff nodded and wrote down what I said. Then he looked at George.

  "That's it. She then called me over. As soon as I saw it looked like a human femur, I went inside and asked for the non-emergency number to call. Chip and Bob Bob came outside with me." George ended the sentence with such a statement of finality that there was no doubt he was done. "So unless you have more questions, we'll just be on our way."

  "Not so fast, Detective Lansing," the sheriff said. At George's surprised look, he said, "I know you identified yourself as a police detective when you called us."

  I could read George's mind again at that point, and what I saw wasn't nice.

  A few more people had gathered by then. I assumed they were townspeople. But the murderer could have been there for all I knew. Or maybe the bones were ancient and a long-ago tragedy.

  The sheriff pulled George aside for a private conversation. George was animated and turned red again, but I couldn't tell what they were talking about.

  My interest returned to the small crowd gathered around Clancy's digging. I glanced from person to person. There were Chip and Bob Bob, then some more men who were dressed in jeans or coveralls. Next was a woman who stood out like Georgianne does when she stands next to my family. She had silver hair and wore a lovely sweater ensemble over an A-line skirt, with a single strand of pearls that didn't look out of place on her. She showed a wide smile with great teeth, and actually looked welcoming to me. She was looking at me instead of at the hole in the ground.

  I smiled back and walked over to her.

  "Hi. I'm Sam Darling and I..."

  "You can't be!" she exclaimed. Then when she recovered from her brief shock, she added, "Are you from Quincy?"

  "Yes," I was getting a little freaked out. "Do I know you?"

  "No," she said as she grabbed me in a hug so fierce that I feared I was broken.

  That hug reminded me of a hug I'd received recently.

  "What's your name? Hurry, tell me. I can't bear it. Is there an 'anne' in it?"

  "Yes. I'm Marianne Norman, and I..."

  "You're related to Georgianne and Julieanne?"

  "Yes," she practically broadcast her glee. "I'm the youngest of all the sisters." She hugged me again.

  "If I'd read this in a book, I'd call it contrived. Coincidences like this just don't happen." I blurted. "This is too weird." I sat down on the ground. Clancy came next to me and put her head on my lap, knowing I needed comforting.

  "What's wrong?" Marianne asked softly. "I thought you'd be happy to meet me. I've heard so many wonderful things about you from my sister."

  "Nothing's really wrong, I guess. I was just surprised. Flabbergasted, actually. Honestly I am happy to meet you. How many sisters are there?"

  "Seven. And one brother. Georgianne is the oldest, then Julieanne, the two you know. And I'm the baby. Well, except for Brother."

  The baby indeed. She was well into her 50s, but had such joie de vivre that I should have recognized her as Julieanne's sister, although she didn't have the same loudness that characterized the second oldest. She had the look of Georgianne, appearing snooty, even if she might not be. Then it hit me--maybe I had been using the word "snooty" when they just had upturned noses. Of course, Georgianne really had been snooty when we first met, talking about people behind their backs and putting them down. Perhaps I would start using the word "judgmental" about her, because her sister Julieanne wasn't snooty. I'd played cards with her once a few months ago and she was a delight. Marianne appeared un-snooty as well, but that nose. That nose turned up just enough that I feared it might collect rainwater in a storm.

  My thoughts returned to the present as I noticed George walking toward us. Before he could tell me why he was frowning, I quickly introduced him to Marianne Norman and he was as surprised as I was, but was sweet and gentlemanly with his comments. Then he turned his attention back to me.

  "Sam," he said, taking both my hands in his, "I'm sorry. But right now, Sheriff Taylor is the only one available in Lost County. He has one deputy, but he's on his honeymoon in Las Vegas. He's asked if I could stay and help for a few days." He stopped talking and just looked into my eyes.

  Of course I melted. How could I not? My handsome, balding, getting-a-middle-aged-spread love of my life felt bad that our vacation was interrupted.

  "It's fine, George. My goal was to get away with you and Clancy. Of course my goal was to get away from murder too. So I hope this turns out to be nothing."

  "I guarantee we will still have an awesome vacation," George said. "If we're here until the day after tomorrow then we'll still have time to drive to the Grand Canyon, stay one night, and come back."

  "Maybe we could put off the Grand Canyon until the next time," I ventured the suggestion.

  "NO!" He almost yelled it, the word was so vehement. "No," he said more quietly. "We have to go there."

  I didn't understand his obsession with getting to the Grand Canyon on this trip, but I let it go. He had so few quirks compared to me, that it was easy for me to overlook them.

  Sheriff Taylor approached.

  "Marianne," he said, with a big grin. I couldn't help but notice his great teeth that seemed a matched set with hers. Made him even handsomer.

  "Jeremiah," she responded, with a little nod, and an almost coy smile.

  "Something going on here," I muttered under my breath. Clancy was the only one who heard me. She nodded too. It was almost like Jeremiah's and Marianne's happiness was contagious. I looked at my sweetheart and hoped he got infected too.

  "Can you direct us to the nearest motel?" George asked the question of both of them.

  They looked at each other before Marianne deferred the answer to Jeremiah, and he spoke.

  "We only have one motel in town. It's right on the far side of the cafe here," he pointed, indicating the small building on the other side of the gas station.

  "Okay," George said, and it looked like he tried to force a smile.

  "Sorry," Jeremiah said and put out an arm to stop us.

  "Are we being detained?" I asked, almost hoping it were so--an adventure I hadn't had before.

  All three of them looked at me with the same confusion on their faces.

  "No, of course not." Jeremiah continued. "It's just that the motel is full."

  "Yes, we have a convention booked there," added Marianne. "It's our one and only claim to fame. Well, that and the fact we're not on some maps."

  George and I looked at each other again and I couldn't suppress a laugh. "A convention? Really?"

  Marianne didn't seem offended by my laughter.

  "Yes, once a year we have a convention. It's the only time there's any real excitement around here."

  "I'm sorry," Jeremiah echoed Marianne's early apology. "But I'm sure I could find somewhere for you to stay. I don't have an extra bedroom, but--"

  "I do," Marianne interrupted. "I have more room than I know what to do with. Please stay with me. Please. My sisters will be thrilled when I tell them."

 
; I started to say yes, when George took my arm, excused us, and walked me toward our car. I still had Clancy on the leash, so she accompanied us.

  "I don't know about this, Sam," George said quietly.

  "Me either. But if we have to stay here, at least we'd be with someone we can trust."

  "Have you ever heard Georgianne talk about this sister?"

  "No, but she normally only talks about herself or people she's gossiping about. I didn't even know Julieanne Harmon was her sister until she practically broke my spine hugging me. This sister has that same habit. Anyway, a quick call to Georgianne will solve it."

  He nodded, looking absentminded. He yelled to the sheriff and Marianne that he'd be right back, and headed toward the bathroom. I got out my phone and called Georgianne.

  "Are you there already?" she asked, happiness evident in her voice.

  "Do you know how big the U.S. is?" I retorted with a question of my own, mine of course was much more sarcastic. Then, as quickly as I could, I explained what happened, leaving out the part where I got us stuck here because of my inquisitive driving. Finally I got to the important part. "I didn't know you had so many sisters. And a brother too."

  "Well, I don't often talk about my family, even though we are close. You are usually talking so much about yourself that I don't have the opportunity."

  "Tell me about Marianne," I said before she could say anything more to irritate me.

  "Well, she's the baby of the sisters, and consequently somewhat spoiled, but she's a lovely person. Why she stayed in that Podunk town I'll never know. We begged her to--"

  "Thanks, Georgianne," I interrupted, knowing she could go on for hours. "We'll let you know when we get to the Grand Canyon, but we'll be here for a few days."

  She said good-bye, making me grateful I didn't have to do the fake bad connection noises to end the conversation.

  George exited the gas station just as I disconnected and I filled him in on what Georgianne had said.

  "Well, I guess it's okay. I mean it's the only place in town." George seemed disgruntled, but I knew he'd soon be back in his usual good humor.

  The three of us walked back to Marianne, with Clancy practically prancing. George dragged his feet a little. And me? Well, as an incurable optimist, I felt everything would turn out just fine.

  And it did. But not before it didn't.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Marianne greeted our acceptance with enthusiasm.

  "I live less than a block away, so I walked. So why don't you just pull into my driveway and I'll meet you there?" She pointed to a huge three story home situated several houses behind the gas station. It was painted colonial blue with white trim, with an attic that had dormer windows and trees that filled the yard. There were some mums blooming in the front of the house, and the grass held on to a hint of green, at least in the places that weren't covered in leaves.

  "That's your house?" I couldn't help but have a tone of wonder in my voice. How could I have missed seeing the place? Mansions must run in her family. "You live there alone?"

  "Yes, to both questions." She beamed as she spoke. "Well, I live alone except for Fifi and Thor."

  "Your servants?"

  "No. My dog and cat."

  At that, Clancy's ears perked up. She loved other animals--even cats. So she pranced even more.

  "Clancy and I will walk with Marianne," I said to George.

  He grunted, seemingly distracted by the goings on and probably by the disruption of his perfectly planned trip.

  Marianne took my arm companionably, as if we'd known each other for years.

  "It will be such fun for me to have you all in my home," she said. "I don't have any children so I cherish my friends."

  "Gus and Georgianne don't have children either. Do any of your siblings?" I made sure my concern shone through, instead of mere curiosity.

  "None of my sisters," she said while shaking her head. "But our brother had enough for all of us. He had seven."

  She looked a little wistful as she started talking, but chuckled by the time she finished.

  "Julieanne once told mother that she'd used up our quota." With that, her beautiful laugh filled the area surrounding us. I knew I'd found a new friend.

  George was unloading the car as we arrived, and Marianne and I each took our share of luggage.

  She pulled open the unlocked door. I gave George a look that I hope he recognized as, "See! I'm not the only person who doesn't lock her door." I think he ignored me.

  "Welcome to my home," Marianne said as a black Great Dane jumped on her, almost bowling her over. The Dane then turned his attention to me with the same result. When it came to George, the dog just sniffed and politely waited for a pat.

  Finally the dog got to Clancy, who was waiting like the good dog she is. The much bigger dog touched Clancy's nose with his own. Finally I noticed the requisite equipment for a boy dog wasn't present, and I knew it was a she.

  "Wait! This can't be Fifi?" I exclaimed.

  "Why can't it be?" said Marianne and George almost simultaneously.

  "'Cause that means that Thor is a cat." With that, I felt something tap against my leg. I looked down to see the tiniest cat I'd ever seen. "Thor?" I asked Marianne.

  "Yes. Isn't he precious?"

  "He's such a small kitten," I said.

  "Oh, no. He's full grown." She reached down and picked up the dark gray cat, then lovingly stroked its back. "He looked so pitiful when I found him, but Fifi and I both fell in love with him immediately."

  She held him out for me to take. "I named him Thor to make him sound tough and give him confidence."

  I gladly took him, then turned around and said to George, "Isn't he adorable? I've often thought about getting a cat for Clancy to have as a buddy."

  George's answer was immediate and severe. With hurricane force he sneezed, and sneezed, and sneezed yet again.

  "I'm allergic," he said as if he needed to explain.

  That was all Thor needed. He jumped from my arms into George's. George instinctively caught him and the sneezing continued.

  By that time I was practically rolling on the floor laughing. As George continued sneezing I decided to call upon some maturity and took Thor from him. Marianne took the cat and put it into the living room. George stopped sneezing immediately.

  "I'm so sorry. But you'll be happy to know that the bedroom you'll be in has been closed up, so Thor hasn't been in there. I hope that will ease your discomfort." Marianne said.

  George wiped his eyes and nose with a handkerchief he'd taken out of his pocket, and at that point all he could do was nod.

  Marianne escorted us upstairs, making sure Thor wasn't following. As I looked behind us I saw Clancy, Fifi, and Thor engaged in mutual smelling. Knowing Clancy would be busy for a while, I didn't have to worry about her.

  The stairs led from the foyer up one direction, then a landing, followed by a switchback to another direction. I looked down when we reached what I thought of as the mezzanine, and saw the three animals splayed out on what looked like a floor of Italian tile. The whites, blacks, and grays of the tile were a perfect backdrop for the rest of the two story foyer.

  I turned back to hear Marianne say, "I'm sorry that the room isn't prepared for company. But we'll soon freshen it up." She opened the door to an opulent room, filled with golds and silvers and yellows, with pops of red and green. Normally I'm not into such flashy environments, but on this room it looked just right. The bed was an antique four-poster, or at least looked like an antique. Whether it was or not, didn't matter. It held a heavy brocade bed covering that was lightened by the flowers that adorned it.

  The colors of the cover were echoed in other ways throughout the room--on the drapes, the pictures on the wall, and the accoutrements. My mouth was hanging open, but no words were coming out.

  George said, "Thanks, Marianne. We really appreciate your hospitality."

  "Appreciate?" I said. "Appreciate?" I turned to our hostess. "We ad
ore your hospitality, your amazing, gracious, and gorgeous hospitality."

  "I'm glad you like it. I'll leave you to get settled, and we can put fresh sheets on the bed later" was all she said, but I could tell she was pleased with my response.

  As Marianne closed the door, George put his hands on my shoulders. He frequently did this in order to ensure I gave him my full attention.

  "I've got to go meet the sheriff at the gas station. The county coroner should be there pretty soon." He kissed me. "The sooner we get started, the sooner we get finished."

  "Okay, but I'm going with you."

  "No, you're not."

  "Just because we're in another town in another state doesn't mean I'm going to tell my curiosity to go dormant." My turn to kiss him. "There's no way you can make me stay here while you gallivant around town having fun."

  George kissed me again, then said, "I know I can't make you stay here. I'm just suggesting you do so."

  I laughed. He laughed. With that, he tripped me so I fell on the beautiful brocade bedspread.

  "No, we can't," I said, still laughing.

  "Why not?"

  "Because...because the bed isn't made and we can't have sex on the brocade. First of all, there's a lot of fancy embroidery and I think it might hurt. Second, it would be hard to clean." I quickly evaded his loving arms, and stood up. "Let's go, George. I really want to help. Remember, the sooner we get started, the sooner we get finished."

  I stopped, proud of myself for using his own argument against him.

  "You win," George admitted. "Let's hang up a few things to get the wrinkles out, and we can go."

  An interesting relationship. Wrinkles hadn't entered my mind. Of course he was right.

  A few moments later we opened our door and I almost tripped over Clancy, Fifi, and Thor.

  "Clancy, quit eavesdropping." She hung her head. I didn't know the other animals, but thought they probably wouldn't have a psychic connection with me like Clancy did, so I just petted them.

  George pulled our door closed before Thor could get inside. That's when I noticed there was a huge old key sticking out of the keyhole.

  "Do you think we need to lock the door and take this?" I asked.

 

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