Good Gracie

by Ines Saint

  Ruby cleared her throat. “Well, then. I hope you don’t expect us to thank you. After everything you did to Gracie . . .”

  “No. I don’t expect a thank-you.”

  Rosa cleared her throat, too, and held out her hand. “If you’ll just hand over the copy of the recording, our business will be concluded.”

  Mrs. Wolf closed her eyes. “There’s no copy, not as far as I know.” When she opened her eyes again, she focused them on Gracie. “The dinner I was hosting starts at eight and the purpose behind the dinner was inspired by you. I didn’t want to tell you about my endeavor until I had something more concrete to show you, but now that I’m here . . .”

  Gracie frowned. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear anything else Mrs. Wolf had to say, even though she was dropping the charges. “An endeavor. Inspired by me,” she finally repeated.

  Mrs. Wolf took it as an invitation to explain. “I want to start a local nonprofit that teaches high schoolers about coercion and consent. The women in my civic club are very involved in their communities, and they can give the nonprofit legitimacy. I thought it would be powerful if we could engage actual,” her throat worked a little then, “victims to tell their stories, both through live speaking engagements and published materials.”

  Everyone was silent until Paige spoke up. “So you accept Gracie was a victim?”

  Mrs. Wolf merely nodded, and it was obvious she was too choked up and nervous to speak.

  “I will never forgive you for what you put my sister through,” Hope began. “But I think we can all acknowledge you’re trying to make amends.”

  Gracie blinked. Amends. Step Nine. For Al-Anon and Alateen members and their families, it was a powerful word. It made Gracie think about all the people she’d met throughout the years who had done pretty terrible things but who’d felt real remorse and tried to change. Her own mother had stolen the money Paige made from cleaning houses a few times to buy alcohol, and she’d once sold Gracie’s bicycle—the one Grandma Sherry had gotten her so she could get to school faster—to the same end.

  Gracie got up. The last thing she wanted was to be among Mrs. Wolf and her friends. But wise words she’d heard when she was younger came rushing back, pushing her forward. Facing her sisters, she said, “Step Twelve. Part of it is to carry the message, remember? I think that’s what Mrs. Wolf is hoping to do, and it’s what I’ve known for some time I have to do. I have that to give, and I’m thinking that maybe together, the message will be even more powerful.”

  Hope drew in a breath. “Are you sure about this, Gracie?”

  Gracie nodded. “I know you don’t trust her, but my heart is telling me to go and listen. Just listen.”

  Hope looked past her to the door a moment, before settling her gaze on Gracie again. “I think I understand, but can I please go with you?”

  Paige got up, looking just as reluctant but just as determined. “I’d like to be there, too, if you don’t mind.” She looked at her watch. “I’ll have to ask Alex to pick up the kids from soccer practice, though.”

  “Are the women in your club the ones who wear the silly blue hats?” Ruby asked.

  Mrs. Wolf hesitated. “Yes.”

  Ruby frowned. “Well, I don’t have a silly blue hat, but I have a blue turban. If you’ll just wait here while I get it . . .”

  * * *

  Josh left the courtroom and drove straight to the Gypsy Fortune Café and Bakery to talk to the perps. Criminal trespassing and disorderly conduct. The only surprising bit about it was that he hadn’t been surprised. What could he even say to them? He understood why they’d done what they did, but it had been reckless and foolhardy.

  When he arrived at the café, he saw that figuring out what to say wouldn’t be a problem because he was struck speechless anyway. Gracie, Paige, Hope, Ruby, Rosa, Sherry, and Mrs. Wolf waved him aside, telling him they’d talk to him later because they had a dinner with the Blue Hatters to get to. They climbed into Mrs. Wolf’s black Cadillac Escalade and drove off, leaving him standing there, still stupid and still speechless, on the sidewalk.

  Something tickled his nose and he looked up to see snow flurries falling out of a darkening, cloudy sky. The only thought that pushed its way through his confused and tired mind was that as soon as the election was over and he figured out everything he needed to figure out, he wanted to click his shoes and get the hell out of Oz.

  The Escalade braked to a hard stop at the traffic light and backed up at full speed until it was beside him. Gracie hopped out. “I forgot to tell you something: Rachel Foster gave me a strange look today.”

  Josh found his voice. “What do you mean by a strange look?”

  “Eduardo called it naked and ugly.”

  “Eduardo?”

  “George’s husband.”

  Josh rubbed the back of his neck.

  She looked back a quick moment and lowered her voice. “Sorry. Okay. From the beginning. When I stepped off the fifth-floor elevator this morning, my coworkers were waiting for me, holding up a sign that said, ‘We’ll Follow Your Lead, Boss.’ Rachel Foster was walking over to the elevator at about the same time and she looked at the sign and then at me for a brief moment and gave me this ugly look. I know it sounds silly, but . . .”

  Josh frowned. “You said Eduardo called it ugly, but how would you describe it?”

  “Unforgiving,” she said without hesitation.

  Josh looked down at the sidewalk, not sure what to think or say. A look. From Rachel Foster. “You know, we always tell people that even the smallest details might mean something. We’ll keep it in mind, okay?”

  She smiled, and for a moment he forgot his worries and exhaustion. “Okay. Well—” she looked back again—“I’ve got to go.”

  “Right. To dinner. With the Blue Hatters.” And Mrs. Wolf and the women who had broken into Mrs. Wolf’s house. He shook his head, feeling himself becoming tired and stupid again. “Buckle up” was all he could think of to say.

  * * *

  Later that evening Josh heard a car drive up to the house. “Come up; first room up the stairs to your left,” he called down from the window when he saw Jamar.

  A minute later Jamar walked through the door. “Hey, I heard about the arraignment. Glad to hear bail was denied.”

  Josh, who had been bent over a sturdy old desk making notes, straightened. “Yeah, but there’s still a lot of work to do.”

  “I hear you, bro. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Josh put his pen down and gave Jamar his full attention. “Sorry; I didn’t mean I was working on the Max Parker case right now. Don’t go—I want to run a few things by you.”

  “Shoot,” Jamar said as he sat.

  “Linda called—”

  “Then why didn’t you start off with that?” Jamar asked, looking incredulous.

  Josh shot him a harassed look before proceeding to tell him about the phone conversation. Jamar looked surprised by the revelation. “In other words, William Konitz is either behind it or knows who is.”

  Josh gave a short nod. “Exactly.”

  Jamar leaned back and rubbed the underside of his chin with his knuckles, the way he did when he was deep in thought. “Let’s go through everything. Linda said it wasn’t William’s idea, but there’s really no way for her to know if that’s true. So let’s assume he acted alone for now. What could his motive be? You said he mostly specializes in defending people at the federal level. Why would he concern himself with the county prosecutor’s race?” He looked up at Josh, and Josh encouraged him to go on. Those had been his thoughts exactly and he was glad to have someone go over everything, too, in case he missed something. “It makes no sense,” Jamar continued. “Unless there’s something we don’t know. But what we do know is that Linda’s refusal to act as a source for rumors about you caused problems between them and that William accused her of still having feelings for you. If William truly believes that, then maybe his motive is personal. Maybe even his asking Linda to lie and act as
a source to hurt your campaign was William’s way of testing her and she failed.”

  Josh pushed up from his chair and walked to the window. “I’m not ruling out anything at this point, but that doesn’t sound like the William Konitz I’ve observed at all. He’s a cynic and he’s calculating. If he accused Linda of having feelings for me, it was to win an argument or to push her buttons, not over jealousy. I mean, whoever’s behind this has gone to ridiculous amounts of effort. I only see Konitz going that far for professional reasons, which, like you said, doesn’t make sense. I know he tried a few cases at the county level before he became partner at his firm but nothing major, and he and I never went up against each other.”

  Jamar blew out a breath and clapped his hands. “So. Konitz is definitely a suspect. His firm has used Shelton Investigations in the past, and he tried to get Linda to act as a source to revive a damaging rumor about you. And Konitz either acted alone in that or he was an intermediary. We don’t have a strong enough motive for him to have acted alone, though, so we lean toward him being an intermediary. I say our next step is to find out if Konitz has connections with anybody with a motive, even a slight one, for taking you out of the race. Maybe you can try Linda again to ask some more pointed questions. Do you still have the phone?”

  “I’ll give her another try,” Josh said. “And we should start by looking into Konitz’s clients. If you don’t mind looking into his present clients, I’ll look into past ones.”

  “Anything else?” Jamar asked.

  “Gracie said she caught Rachel giving her a dirty look this morning,” Josh said, knowing it didn’t mean much.

  Jamar shrugged. “Rachel’s your main opponent and she could hardly have been thrilled at how Gracie’s press conference dominated the news yesterday. But giving Gracie a dirty look over it would be pretty small of her, so I guess that’s something,” he said, sounding unconvinced.

  “It is. And I promised Gracie I’d keep it in mind.”

  They were quiet while Josh thought everything through again. Jamar looked around. “Still reading up on Clyde Cupcake?” he asked, jerking his chin to the file on the floor. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on the election?”

  “I was looking over it last night when I couldn’t sleep,” Josh explained with a small shrug. “His case reminds me how easily the public can be deceived. We’re myopic, even those of us who are jaded. The trick to blinding people to what’s happening right in front of them is to place something even more scandalous, and more exciting to talk about, right under their nose. I mean, Tilda ended up losing a lot of business, both because someone had cheated her out of her recipes and because people thought she might have poisoned Clyde. The end result was that she wasn’t able to sell her business to her pastry chef, who would have continued her legacy. Three months later a general store opened up where the bakery used to be, and it turned out that was what a few business leaders in town had been wanting for years. They wanted to change the character of the downtown area and make it more citylike, and they felt Tilda’s quirky little bakery was a waste of good space. I can’t help but draw a parallel to Gracie. She was the side scandal because somebody wants me out. But she fought back. So did Clyde . . . and look how he ended up.”

  Jamar smiled a little. “You’re in deep; you know that, right?”

  “Clyde?” Josh asked with a frown.

  “No, the girl.” He laughed and walked away, but not before turning and adding, “I like her, though. I think she’s good for you.”

  “Yeah, but am I good for her?” Josh grumbled as soon as Jamar was out the door. But there wasn’t enough room in his brain to work it out. Gracie, Konitz and Lester Shelton, his job, the campaign, the house, and more . . . there was too much going on. Something had to give.

  When another knock sounded on his door and he looked out the window to see who it was, he knew that point was about to be driven home.

  Chapter 17

  “So, is this how it’s going to work now? Your father and I have to find out that you bought a dilapidated house and are contemplating a relationship with that girl on the news?”

  Josh had never seen so many lines on his mother’s face, and though he was sorry to have put them there, he couldn’t let that last comment pass. “What do you mean by that girl?”

  His father put his hand on Catherine Goodwin’s shoulder and looked behind him. “Let’s talk about this inside.”

  The moment Josh shut the door, his father gave him his most disappointed look, the one that used to make Josh fear he wasn’t living up to expectations. “You question your mother’s tone when we’ve been calling you since the scandal broke yesterday morning and you haven’t had the decency to call us back, even though you must know we’ve been worried sick about it all?”

  Josh paused to gather his scattered thoughts before answering. “You’re right. I should’ve called you. I’m sorry I didn’t. But I wasn’t questioning her tone; I was objecting to her calling Gracie Piper that girl. I didn’t allow it nine years ago and I won’t allow it now.”

  “Is that all?” Mark Goodwin asked. It was his go-to trick question. All could be an opening to anything.

  But he often forgot his son had some experience under his belt, too. “That depends on what you’re referring to.”

  His parents pursed their lips at the same time, and it would have been comical if their confrontation were about anything else. “You’re not going to offer us any excuses for why we had to find out about everything from the press?” his dad tried again, using his most formidable look.

  “I was in crisis mode, both personally and politically, on top of being inundated with work. I still should’ve made time to call you, though, which is why I’m not offering excuses.”

  His mother’s eyes bore into his. “Your father and I knew right away the video was recent. And though we received a barrage of phone calls about it, and we would have appreciated advance notice of the press conference where Miss Piper addressed the allegations, we’re also rightfully upset about the fact that you two are in a relationship and that you bought a house and never once thought to warn us about either development.”

  Josh lifted an eyebrow. “Warn you?”

  His father shot him an impatient look. “You never thought to inform us, then. It shows a remarkable lack of consideration for your parents.”

  His mom lost her cool. “No, warn us! Look at this house! And Gracie Piper of all people! Have you lost your mind? We thought you had finally grown out of your knight in shining armor complex, but no, here you are, risking your future to once again rescue the girl, only this time we’ve got you carrying her out of your ramshackle castle.”

  “Rescue the girl?” Josh scoffed. “She rescued me from false allegations! You just said so yourself.”

  His father looked as if he’d just about had it, too. “She set the record straight, but she wouldn’t have had to if you would have stayed away from her this time. You did right by her when no one else would, and we’ve learned to be proud of you for adhering to your principles. But that was nine years ago and she’s an adult now. She’s not your stray kitten anymore.”

  Josh felt his jaw drop. “Stray kitten?”

  “Your mom is right; you have a misguided sense of duty—”

  “Enough.” That girl. Stray kitten. Unbelievable. Josh walked to the door and opened it, showing them out. They looked at him, stunned, but his message was clear. They were being kicked out. They walked out the door, backs straight, heads high, and mouths set in anger, as if they had been wronged. Josh lost his cool. “And you dare ask why I never inform you of anything. If you ever talk about Gracie like that again, I’ll refuse to see you. Consider yourselves warned.” He walked out behind them, fighting the urge to say more. But when he looked out onto the street, he saw Gracie standing in front of her car, frozen in place, the keys to her car dangling in her hand. Obviously she’d heard him.

  His parents noticed her, too, and though Josh doubted they’d say anyt
hing to her, he wasn’t taking any chances. “Say one word to her and I’ll make good on my promise,” he murmured as he leaped down the steps. Gracie saw him coming, gave a quick head shake, and sprinted to her front door. He reached her just as she was about to close it. “Please, Gracie, hear me out.”

  Gracie heard the plea in his voice, but her mind was racing with all the things Josh’s parents could’ve said to make him angry enough to threaten them. It didn’t take much of an imagination; she’d heard enough of them growing up. But as much as it hurt at that very moment, she knew all she needed was a little time to process it, to absorb the fact that the insults were about them, not her. “I already heard enough and I thank you for standing up for me, but I’ve had a long day and I’m tired,” she said.

  “I know, I know. But I’d like a chance to explain.” He looked down at her, and the look in his eyes was so tender, it made her angry. She stepped away and he let himself in.

  “Explain what?” she asked. “That your parents insulted me and you got into an argument with them over it? I already figured that out, and you know that’s not why you came running over here. You’re here to try to make me feel better about it.” Before he could get out a word, she drew herself up to her full height, put a finger to his chest, and continued. “I don’t need you to protect me. I can take it that your parents don’t like me. What I can’t take is you acting like I need you to come running over here to put a Band-Aid on my boo-boo. I’m not a child, Josh.”

  Josh looked insulted. “I think I know damn well you’re not a child, Gracie. I didn’t come here to—”

  But Gracie wasn’t done. “First you say we don’t know what to make of the intense feelings between us, then, the moment you think our friendship has put me in danger, you decide we’re both going to be too busy to see each other, but a moment later, when you think your parents hurt my feelings, you come running over here again to try to make it better. If that’s not treating me like a child—”