She tried calling her parents number again. Still no answer. No answers anywhere. What was going on?
As she pulled in the driveway to her parent’s house, she saw that Grace1 was there. She rushed into the house expecting to see Grace wringing her hands and bawling her eyes out. Instead, she found her ready to burn it all down.
“What did they think I would do to her?” she shouted, pacing back and forth in the living room. Ricki’s mom sat on the couch, listening, sympathy in her eyes. “It happened years ago. Everyone has moved on. She’s married now to someone else and is much better off for it.”
Ricki slithered into the room and sunk in the chair behind where Grace paced, doing her best to blend into the background. Her mother winked at her.
“What makes them think I would know what happened to her? Answer me, Thea. Do I look like the person who gets involved in shady business?”
Shady business? What an interesting choice of words.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” her mother said, calmly. “She died of a heart attack. I don’t understand why they’re questioning you or anyone else for that matter. Maybe it’s just standard procedure. I could ask my son, although he’s a traffic cop.”
“They made it sound like something else was going on.” By this time, Grace had calmed down, her voice lowered a couple of decibels, but the worry still seeping through. “Everyone hated her. Why would they pick on me?” She plopped down into the rocking chair finally noticing Ricki’s presence. “I didn’t hear you come in, but I’m sure you heard me.” And just like that, Grace started to cry.
Thea jumped to Grace’s side to comfort her. Ricki loved to watch her mother in action. She was the healer, the comforter, the mother hen, the one who knew almost as if by instinct how to handle a situation or comfort a person in need. She let her mother be the compassionate one, but her heart broke for good old Grace. She was a revered schoolteacher who devoted her life to teaching English to a bunch of kids who could barely put a sentence together. She loved her job, loved teaching, loved people. And what bothered Ricki most was knowing there was more to Jennifer’s death and she couldn’t say a word about it to anyone.
Proud as ever, within minutes, Grace pulled herself together, drying her eyes with a tissue. “I’m sorry for being such a weakling.”
“Nonsense, her mother said, trying to get up off the floor. “You just had a traumatic experience.”
“Were they at least nice to you?” Ricki asked.
“They were kind enough, but it was just being in that building, feeling like I was the criminal. I still don’t understand why they would call me in to ask questions about a woman I didn’t even speak to. You were the one who found her. Did they even talk to you?”
That was a good question. Ricki was the one who found her. Why weren’t they talking to her? Because she had no reason to kill Jennifer, perhaps. Not that Grace did, but with the history between her granddaughter Trina and Jennifer, she couldn’t imagine that didn’t look good to the police. “Maybe we need some pie, right Mom?”
Her mother gave her the stink eye. “Really, Ricki. Don’t you know anything? This calls for cake. I made cake. Grace, would you like a piece of cake and a cup of coffee?”
“Only if we can put some whiskey in the coffee.” Despite everything, Grace1 still had a wicked sense of humor, kind of like Ricki herself, wanting to inject humor into uncomfortable situations to make everyone feel better.
As the three ladies headed to the kitchen, Ricki scanned the rooms for her father. “Where’s Dad?”
“Tinkering with something in the garage.” Grace pulled out a chair at the table and made herself comfortable. “When he heard me ranting and raving, he ran off.”
As her mother cut the cake, Ricki poured three cups of coffee, placing the cream and sugar in the center of the table. “You mentioned something that happened years ago when I came in. Not to be nosy, okay, to be nosy, what were you talking about?” Ricki could have phrased the question a bit more delicately, but since Grace was already talking, she took advantage of it. “Of course, if you’d rather not talk about it? That’s all right.”
Grace sighed heavily. “I thought everyone knew, but that doesn’t matter anymore, so I might as well tell you. I don’t know where you were when it happened, but my granddaughter Trina was set to marry a flirtatious man who seemed to have a problem keeping things tucked away where they belonged, if you know what I mean.”
Ricki and her mother stifled a laugh. Ricki’s, of course, sounded more like a snort.
“Long before Jennifer Barnes discovered a tanning bed, she looked a lot less like an alligator and more like a raving beauty. Well, Trina’s ex-fiancé, couldn’t resist Jennifer’s fake boobs, and they messed around a few weeks before they were supposed to get married. Trina was devastated. Her mother and I were relieved because the man was a slimeball, but we didn’t say anything and only offered a shoulder to cry on as she worked to get over this. Later, she saw what a blessing in disguise it was and was grateful Jennifer busted up her impending marriage. But the humiliation was a little difficult for her to bear, naturally. I mean, what could be more humiliating than that, especially right before your wedding?”
Since nobody knew why Marty and Ricki broke up, Ricki had to keep her mouth shut as she listened to Grace talk about her granddaughter’s humiliation. But she knew all too well just how devastating something like that could be. Sooner or later, she would have to let others know why she lost the love of her life, but for now, it was her secret to keep.
“Trina moved on long before I could,” Grace continued. “To this day I still can’t stand that witch even if she is dead.”
“That would explain why you don’t work in the library the same day she’s there. But why would you even work in the library when you know she works there? It seems like adding insult to injury.”
Grace studied Ricki briefly, considering what she said. “Like I’m going to let someone stop me from doing what I want to do. I love books. I love reading, teaching, and learning new things. This town doesn’t have a lot to offer for women my age. The tendonitis in my wrists doesn’t let me do a lot of things like Meals on Wheels, so I have to do something to keep busy.”
“That’s a good attitude to have,” Ricki’s mom interjected, giving her daughter the stink eye again.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Ricki asked, shoving a forkful of chocolate cake in her mouth.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” She raised an eyebrow. “Would it hurt you to be nice?”
“I’m being nice. What are you talking about?”
“I heard all about it.”
This was about Damon. Chris must have filled her in on the juicy details. Her brother had a big mouth. “There was a reason for my behavior.”
“Really. Why?”
Oops. She didn’t want to tell them what happened to her at the library. It was quite embarrassing to be fired from volunteering. “It was just a bad day, that’s all. He caught me off guard. You know how I feel about people coming to my house unannounced.”
“It’s rude,” Grace said.
Good thing Grace wasn’t there when Ricki showed up at her house unannounced and without a gift of food. She turned to her mother. “We can talk about that later.”
“Anyway, the police think I know something about Jennifer. I don’t. She’s not a nice person, so if they really wanted information about her they would just have to ask half the town.”
Ricki’s ears pricked up at the mere mention of this. “About that. Why wasn’t she a nice person? Besides the sleeping with other people’s fiancés I mean.”
Grace grew quiet.
“That’s a big enough reason,” her mother said.
For Ricki it was, but she wanted to know more about Jennifer than just the infidelities. She had a feeling Grace was hiding something. She had that feeling ever since she came into the house and listened to Grace ranting and raving. Did
she know about the blackmail? Ricki debated on how to address the situation without blurting it out and putting seeds of information in people’s heads when it didn’t belong there. It was only speculation so far. Even if it made sense, like explaining how she was able to afford a BMW, the fancy gold jewelry, and the fake boobs Grace mentioned. But she couldn’t or shouldn’t say something that wasn’t true.
“All you have to do is talk with her for more than five minutes to understand what kind of person she is,” Grace said, slowly and calmly. “Or was.”
“I know what you mean,” Ricki said, slightly giggling. She thought back to when she first met Jennifer. She was all over her, squealing like a kid. And so pushy. She practically shoved her book down Ricki’s throat. She was the type of person who wouldn’t take no for an answer. So why was she working in a library when she could’ve been working in sales? Then it occurred to Ricki that maybe if she wanted to address the issue of blackmail, she could mention the book Jennifer forced on her before she died. “Did you know she was a writer?”
Grace and her mother stared at her, wide-eyed.
“She wrote a book and asked me to read it. Of course, asked isn’t a strong enough word.”
“I imagine she forced it on you,” Grace said. “She probably told you if you didn’t read it she would blab all your secrets around town.”
Ricki took note of that last statement and continued. “Well, I’ve been reading it, and I have to say she had a talent for writing.”
“I imagine the book is an exposé on her many conquests.” Grace’s acerbic tongue was back. A sign she was feeling much better. “Am I right?”
“No, actually. The book is supposed to be a romantic suspense, although it seems to be devoid of suspense. But it’s interesting.” Her mother and Grace waited for her to say more, but she wanted to choose her words carefully. Grace was opening up, and now was a good time to get her to open up even more. Ricki cringed when she realized that she was, in fact, manipulating the conversation to get information out of someone. She was a monster. “It’s about a man and a woman, both married, both in public positions, having an affair. Someone finds out about it and blackmails them.”
Only a second before Grace looked like she was coming back to her old self until Ricki said the word blackmail. Her mood and demeanor changed almost like a light switch had been flicked on and off. Without any word or warning, Grace took her plate and coffee cup to the sink, washed them off, returned to the table to push in her chair, and slung her purse on her shoulder and walked out the door.
“Did I say something wrong?” Ricki called out, too late.
“No.” Grace turned around sharply. Her face was all scrunched up. “Sudden headache.”
“I can get you an aspirin,” Ricki’s mom said, following her out the door.
Ricki stood inside and waited for her mother to return. “What did I say this time?”
She flicked her eyebrows in amusement. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it. Do you get the impression Grace has a secret?”
Without wanting to reveal anything that she knew, Ricki only nodded. Grace had a secret. It was up to Ricki to find out what it was.
Thirteen
The last time Ricki saw Becca, she looked like she could use a night out, and Ricki was in need of her friend’s company. She sent a quick text: Let’s do something fun. It had been a long, sometimes humiliating, week, and she wanted to forget about Jennifer’s death, the book, and all the cryptic clues for a while. She spent most of her time in her head as it was and didn’t need anything else clogging up her brain waves.
It sounded good, but she didn’t kid herself. Jennifer had been the only thing on her mind ever since the day she became a volunteer at the library. And now Grace1, and what she may have been hiding, got her attention. Grace reacted so strangely when she mentioned blackmail. If her own mother hadn’t made the same observation about Grace hiding something, Ricki would have accepted it as her imagination working overtime.
Grace seemed to be okay talking about what happened between Trina and Jennifer a few years back, but when the subject of blackmail came up, that was a completely different matter. There was a story there, Ricki believed, or she imagined there was a story there. But in case she wasn’t imagining it, she wanted to know what Grace was hiding, what she knew, and why, out of all the people in Unionville, was she the one called in for questioning?
Her phone vibrated. She sneaked a quick glimpse of the screen and saw that it was a text from Becca: Good news. Man Unit promised me a night off if I pumped. A second text came minutes later. It was a picture of Becca smiling and pumping. Ricki so didn’t need to see that.
Going out with Becca was a challenge for Ricki. Since she didn’t drink, she was always the designated driver and that got old after a while. Now that Becca had a baby and was itching to get out and do something, Ricki felt she owed her friend some fun. She would tolerate sitting in a bar while her friend had a couple of drinks even if she found it to be the most excruciatingly painful experience of her life. She never understood the appeal of sitting around in a dark room swilling alcohol while talking. It wasn’t the drinking part that bothered her so much as it was the talking part. Where did people get that much energy to talk for hours on end?
Ricki texted: What would you like to do tonight? My treat.
Rapid text back: I would like to have dinner in a quiet restaurant. I want someone to wait on me for a change.
That was something Ricki could do. It would give her an opportunity to talk to Becca about all the things she discovered. Since she couldn’t stop thinking about it anyway, she could use someone to bounce all her crazy ideas off of.
Ricki stared at the corkboard with all the pictures from her camera and the string of clues Jennifer had left behind. She needed to take a step back to decipher the meaning of the call numbers and the author names and the cryptic messages she sprinkled throughout her book. Everything was all jumbled together and nonsensical. Jennifer was trying to say something. Ricki was sure of it, and maybe Becca could help her find the answers.
“That doesn’t sound like you,” Becca said, sipping her wine. Ricki had just told her about what happened with Damon when he showed up at her house unannounced. Since her friend was able to pump enough milk, the two girls decided to go all out. They got dressed up and went to the fanciest restaurant in Unionville that allowed them in without reservations. “Did he say anything?”
“He looked hurt. No, more like confused. I didn’t mean to do it, but…”
“But what?”
Still too embarrassed, she hadn’t yet told her friend what happened at the library. Sooner or later the incident was going to get out, and she was going to have to face everyone’s giggles. “I did something and got in trouble for it.”
Becca dropped her knife and fork on the plate, the clang sounding like a bell in the spacious dining room. “Ricki Rydell did something bad? This ought to be rich.”
“I talked one of the library associates into letting me into the library when it was closed for Jennifer’s funeral.”
Becca gasped dramatically.
“Stop that.”
“Come on. What’s the big deal?”
“They closed it out of respect for her, but one of the associates had to go in and take care of the book drop. It just so happened that I ran into him at the coffee shop and talked him into letting me in.”
Becca shook her head slightly. “I still don’t understand. What’s so bad about that?”
“It gets worse. I wanted to go in the library when nobody was there so I could snoop through Jennifer’s desk.”
Becca threw her head back and laughed. She had the greatest laugh. It was loud, but cute. Unfortunately, Ricki didn’t need to hear it right now because the embarrassment still weighed on her pretty heavily. “You didn’t! Let me guess, you got caught.”
“Not exactly. I ended up doing a lot of snooping and took some pictures, but the library director or the volunteer
coordinator found out about it later. I don’t know if Jon broke down and ratted me out or if there are security cameras keeping an eye on things.”
“I don’t get it. So you went in when it was closed. One of the library workers was there, so what’s the big deal?”
“That’s what I thought, but apparently it was a big deal. I guess Jon went against Felicity’s strict instructions not to let anyone in, and when she found out about it, she…fired me.”
“Fired? How can you get fired from a volunteer position? Wait a minute, you were fired from a volunteer position. That’s pretty funny.”
Ricki pointed at her face and circled it with her finger a couple of times. “Does it look like I’m laughing?”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. But was it worth it?”
“Absolutely worth it. I found a death threat in one of her drawers.”
Once again Becca dropped her silverware to the plate. This time, however, everyone around their table turned and gave her a scolding look. She mouthed the words, I’m sorry to everyone and turned her attention to Ricki. “You’re kidding. A death threat? But I thought she had a heart attack.” She gasped, raising her hand to her mouth. “Someone killed her?”
“Keep your voice down.” Ricki leaned across the table and motioned for her to do the same. “Don’t say anything to anyone just yet, but there may be more sinister things at play here. Grace Rossini was taken in for questioning, for one.”
“You mean Grace1 killed her?” She gasped again, moving in closer to Ricki. “That escalated quickly.”
“No, she didn’t kill her. At least I don’t think so, but anything is possible. Anyway, the autopsy report said Jennifer had a healthy heart, and it would be unusual for someone like her to have a heart attack.”
“Did your brother tell you all this?”
Checked Out (A Ricki Rydell Mystery Book 1) Page 9
