The Gray-Haired Knitting Detective Series: (Books 1 - 3)

by D. E. Haggerty

  Noel sets his fork down to give me his undivided attention. “What’s this about Izzy?”

  I feel my face heating, but venture forth. “Just curious how the police would go about solving Grandma’s murder. If they were going to do anything about it, that is.” I’m definitely pushing it now.

  “Did you invite me over here for this?” Noel’s voice is steel.

  I duck my head. “Not entirely,” I mumble.

  He stands and heads for the front door. “Noel,” I call. “That’s not the only reason I asked you over, honest.”

  He turns around and stares at me. His face is granite. “I don’t know if I can believe that right now.” He stalks toward the door.

  I jump up and run to him before he can leave. I grab his arm and pull with all my might, which doesn’t move him, but at least he stops. “I do like you. I like you a lot. I like you more than I should, and it scares the hell out of me,” I take a breath before continuing, “but I’m also way freaked out about Grandma. I have no idea what’s going on. She was a millionaire, and I didn’t know. She left everything to me but never told me. What else didn’t she tell me? What was going on?”

  I drop his arm and walk back to the kitchen table, head drooping. I collapse on a chair with my head on the table. After a few minutes, I feel a warm hand grab my shoulder and squeeze. “I know it’s tough losing a loved one, Izzy, but you can’t go around thinking it’s murder just because your grandma had some secrets.”

  I nod. “It just doesn’t make any sense. She wouldn’t be knitting, so why was there yarn and needles on her lap? And why was she in her chair in the middle of the day?”

  Noel crouches down next to me and moves my face so I have no choice but to look at him. “Izzy, how do you know it was the middle of the day? When was the last time anyone saw her? When was the last time anyone talked to her?”

  And that is why I totally suck at investing anything. I should have thought of that from the very beginning. Maybe the ladies and I are just making something out of nothing. But no, Grandma would never have had the onesie on her lap. Of that, I’m sure. Or am I? I thought I knew Grandma through and through, but I was wrong. Maybe I didn’t know the first thing about her.

  Noel grabs my hand and tugs me to the living room. He sits me down and then heads to the kitchen. He comes back with the Ben & Jerry’s still in the carton and one spoon. The man’s a freaking genius, I tell you. He puts in a romantic comedy and watches the entire movie without complaining once about it being a chick flick. When it finishes, he kisses me lightly and leaves.

  Crap! This gorgeous detective is giving me every reason to fall in love in with him. I know I should protect my heart from that delectable man, who is so far out of my league, I should be getting nosebleeds when I look at him, but I blame my hormones for being magnetically drawn to him. I’m in trouble.

  Chapter 18

  "Land of Confusion” by Genesis

  Another day, another lawyer’s appointment.

  When I open the door to the law firm, I run smack dab into a man. “Sorry,” I automatically say before looking up. I gasp. It’s not often you see a younger man with white hair, but that’s not what has me startled. It’s the eyes – so dark that they’re nearly black. They look like pure evil but strangely familiar. He’s staring at me as if I killed his dog. Geesh, I only accidentally ran into him. I shiver and quickly move past him.

  The receptionist recognizes me when I walk forward. I’m sure it’s because she appreciates my fashion style, and not because I paced the reception area like a caged animal last time.

  Perfectly coiffured lady comes to greet me within a minute of my arrival and shows me to an office down the corridor from young Mr. Smith’s office. When she opens the door, I nearly gasp in surprise. Old Mr. Smith is not what I expected – at all. Instead of the gray-haired, mass of wrinkled old man I expected, before me stands a very distinguished looking older gentleman. It’s clear why grandma was using the Smiths for all her legal needs. I hope they actually know what they’re doing and weren’t only functioning as eye candy for Grandma.

  Mr. Smith smiles and extends a hand. “Ms. Archer I presume.” Distinguished gentleman and politically correct? Grandma’s knitting group would eat him alive.

  After I shake his hand, we move to sit at a large conference table. Coffee cups and a large pot of what I presume is coffee are already set out on the table. Mr. Smith lays down a file and then proceeds to pour me coffee before taking his place opposite me. “My condolences on the loss of your grandmother.”

  I nod. “Thank you.”

  “Now,” he says as he opens the file in front of him. “My son informed me of why you’re here.” I sit up straight, listening intently now. I can’t wait to hear what’s going on. He pulls out a large drawing and unfolds it on the table.

  “I have no idea what I’m looking at,” I say without thinking.

  Mr. Smith smiles and nods at me. “This, Ms. Archer, is your land.”

  “My what?” I know grandma left me her house and there is a decent sized yard attached, but I wouldn’t call it land. At least not in the way Mr. Smith is implying.

  “Your land,” he repeats. He points to the outline of a house. “This is, er was, Mrs. Archer’s house and the surrounding area that belongs to it.”

  I stand and peer at the drawing, which I now realize is a map of Grandma’s house and surroundings. At the bottom, there is a row of houses I recognize as the street she lived on. The rest of the map is basically empty with only lines and numbers scribbled on it, but I have no idea what any of it means. I know that behind Grandma’s house and all of the houses on her street, for that matter, are fields and some small copses of woods. The land has lain fallow ever since I can remember. I always assumed each homeowner owned a few acres behind their house.

  Mr. Smith points to the area behind the houses and draws an outline with his finger. “All this is your land. There're about fifty acres in all.”

  “Fifty acres!” I gulp. That’s a lot of land.

  “That’s true.” Oops! Guess I said that last part out loud.

  I sit back down and take a breath. “Okay,” I slowly start. “It seems I now own a bunch of land, but what does that have to do with the letter I asked about?”

  “Everything.” Mr. Smith folds the map back up and pulls out some paperwork. “Your grandmother came to me to protect the land.”

  “From what?”

  “Everything and anything.”

  Talk about being vague. “What the heck does that mean?”

  “Your grandmother was never really specific with me. She just said that she didn’t want anyone to exploit the land.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What did you do for Grandma?”

  Mr. Smith sighs and takes a deep breath as if he is explaining something to a child. It’s not my fault I’m confused, it’s like he’s being deliberately obtuse. “I placed a conservation easement on the land.”

  “What’s a conservation easement?” Apparently my purpose today is to be confused and ask dumb questions.

  “Basically, it means the rights of the land are divided between the owner, that’s you now, and an environmental group.”

  I shake my head, but it doesn’t make anything clearer. “Well, what rights do I have, and what rights does the environmental group have?”

  “Oh, you can basically do anything with the land you would normally do: build a house, farm, have livestock, etc., but the environmental group holds an easement on the mineral and water rights.”

  “The mineral and water rights? But the land is only meadow. What minerals would be there?”

  Mr. Smith shakes his head. “I don’t know. Your grandmother never discussed any specific issues with me.”

  I try to sort the new information out in my head, but frankly I’m a bit overwhelmed at the moment. Apparently I’m not only a millionaire, but a landowner as well. Just a week ago I was working despite my grief to make sure
I had enough money for the mortgage, and now I never have to work again. But back to the issue at hand. “Who is this environmental group anyway?”

  He shuffles through his papers. “Save the Plains.”

  I have no idea who or what that is. “When did all of this happen?”

  “Just a few months ago.”

  “And you have no idea why Grandma wanted to do this?”

  Mr. Smith shakes his head again. He hands me copies of the paperwork, and that’s all there is to it. Although I’m technically wiser than when I arrived at the law office, I’m not any closer to finding out what happened to Grandma. As far as I can tell, this has nothing to do with her death, and here I thought I was the next Nancy Drew.

  The phone rings as I’m leaving the law firm. “This is not a dream,” Jack says in what he thinks is his spooky voice.

  “Ha! Ha! You’re so funny. NOT!” I’m never going to live down the whole thought I was dreaming thing. It’s lovely to have someone like Jack in my life to remind me of every failure and blunder I’ve ever made. Aren’t friends awesome?

  Jack ignores my response. “I’m on my way to your house now to hear what you learned,” he says and then hangs up without waiting for a response. Sometimes it’s annoying having a friend who’s so successful, he can come around at the drop of a hat.

  Chapter 19

  "Building a Mystery” by Sarah McLachlan

  My driveway is full of cars by the time I make it home. Oh great, looks like the old lady cavalry has arrived. That’s what I get for telling Betty about my meeting with the lawyer. That woman can’t keep a secret if her life depended upon it. Although at the age of seventy-five, she probably doesn’t give a hoot if her life depends on keeping her mouth quiet.

  I’m not really in the mood to deal with Betty and her entourage and debate driving on by my house, but Jack has already spotted me from his perch on my stoop. He waves and I’m stuck. No turning back now. I park the car in the street and walk in the front door yelling, “Honey, I’m home!”

  The ladies are gathered around Noel at the dining room table. I wonder what Noel’s doing here, but my attention is quickly diverted by the baked goodies on the table. Is that a cheesecake? Noel stands and gives me a quick kiss. I look around and notice the gang’s all here. The old lady troop consisting of Betty, Ally, Rosemary, Martha, and Rose as well as Jack and Noel. I swallow my sigh and move to sit down, but there’s nowhere to go. Jack’s standing in the corner and the ladies plus Noel have commandeered my dining room table and chairs.

  Noel grabs my wrist and pulls me to sit down on his lap. As he sits, I see his cheeks turn red. “What’s wrong? My fat butt too much for you,” I quip.

  “No,” he whispers. “Someone pinched my ass – again.”

  I hear a giggle and peer around Noel to see Ally. I raise my eyebrows at her. She blushes and looks down at her feet, but I see a smile appear on her face. I can’t help it. I burst out laughing.

  Betty obviously thinks we’ve been goofing around too long and clucks her tongue before clapping her hands to get our attention. “So, Izzy,” she looks pointedly at me. “What did you learn today?” Before I can respond, she speaks again. “And maybe you can fill us in on the other meeting as well.” Five ladies turn to stare at me with their best guilt-inducing looks. They’re all mothers so they’ve had lots of practice. I squirm in Noel’s lap.

  I clear my throat before beginning, “I assume you already learned about the reading of the will.” I try to give Jack a stern look, but he refuses to meet my eyes.

  “Yes, dear, but we’d like to hear it from you.” Betty’s good. She’s got the I’ll make you feel guilty for even thinking bad thoughts voice down pat. I would have spent my childhood grounded if I were one of her children.

  “There’s not much to say about the will. It seems Grandma had quite a bit of money, and she left most of it to me.” I shrug and act nonchalant.

  “How much money?” Rosemary asks.

  “Over a million. Maybe more than two,” I mumble.

  Betty grunts. “So, whoever knew about the money did it?”

  I clear my throat. “There are two problems with that. One, no one knew about the money. And two, it’s only a motive for the person inheriting the money, which is me and I didn’t do it.”

  “First things first,” Betty responds with a wave of her hand. “We all knew about the money.”

  I nearly jump out of Noel’s lap. “You knew about the money?” I screech. Nods all around the table answer me. “All of you?” Again they each nod. “But why didn’t I? And where did the money come from?”

  Betty takes the lead again. She really should have been a five-star general. “First of all, where the money came from is no mystery. When Anna’s husband got out of the military, he got a small stipend for his injury. He invested in some stocks, made a little money, invested the profit, and so on and so forth.” She clears her throat before continuing. “I think we all assumed you knew about the money.” She looks around the table in question and nods greet her. Huh, seems I’m the odd man out.

  My jaw is on the floor by now. I clear my throat. “So that’s why you thought Grandma was killed? For her money?”

  I hear murmurings of yes. “But wait I minute!” I just realized something. “If you thought she was murdered for her money, then you must think I killed her because I inherited it!” I try to jump off Noel’s lap, but he holds me tight.

  “Sshhh, Izzy,” he murmurs in my ear. “No one thinks you murdered your grandma.” I turn to growl at him, but he just kisses my lips. Damn, those delectable lips distract me.

  Ally’s quiet voice breaks the silence, which descended after my outburst. “I think I know why Anna never told you about the money.” I raise my eyebrows at her and she blushes. “I’m not sure of this.” I just stare at her, silently begging her to continue. “I think it was because of your husband.”

  “Ryan?” Now I’m really confused. “But they didn’t have anything to do with each other.”

  “And if Ryan knew about Anna’s money? What then?”

  I hang my head. I know exactly what Ally is getting at. Not only was Ryan the epitome of lazy, but he truly believed that he deserved to live like a king. No, not deserved, had a right to have everything his little heart ever desired. Ally’s right. If Ryan had known about his grandmother’s money, Ryan would have pretended to be a loving grandson while declaring her incompetent behind her back. Grandma was no dummy.

  Noel squeezes me tight. I close my eyes and lean into him. I can’t blame myself for marrying Ryan. I was young and in love. But I do feel stupid for staying married to him after I fell out of love with him. I couldn’t just leave him, though. I had made a commitment.

  Jack clears his throat and offers me a sad smile. He was there through all the fights and heartache. I can’t believe I’ve had such good luck to find a friend who is not only great fun to be around, but stands behind me – always. “Anyway,” Jack says in an obvious attempt to change the subject. “Did anyone else know about Grandma’s will?”

  Once again, Ally answers. “Anna told me she was giving all her money to charity. No one knew you were going to inherit,” she pauses and turns to smile at me. “We’re happy for you though.” The tension in the room dissipates as the entire senior citizen brigade smile at me.

  “Thanks Ally,” I whisper back. “That’s what she told me as well – that she donated the money to charity. Well, she did donate some money for charity, but the bulk of it, I inherited.”

  “So,” it’s Martha’s turn to ask questions now it seems. “What was today’s meeting about?”

  “A bit of a letdown really. Just some information about a conservation easement,” I shrug. “Nothing that would have caused someone to murder her.”

  “What’s a conservation easement?” Rose asks as she dishes out cheesecake.

  I explain about Grandma’s landholdings and what I think an easement is. I’m still not entirely clear about how the whol
e thing works. “So you see. No reason to murder anyone there.”

  “Unless,” Jack pipes in, “someone didn’t know about the conservation easement and thought they could get the land rights from you.”

  I splutter. “From me? No one knew I was going to inherit, remember?”

  Jack nods. “Okay, get the lands rights from whoever inherited. In fact,” he says, his excitement growing, “that makes even more sense.”

  “But you’re not making any sense,” I point out.

  He begins to pace. “Stay with me. If a mineral company or something wanted the land and thought that a charity would inherit, they could buy the land on the cheap from the charity. A charity would be easy to manipulate.” He stands still and turns toward the table with a triumphant grin on his face.

  Noel clears his throat. “There might be a few problems with that theory,” he says cautiously. “First of all, we have no proof anyone wanted the rights to the land. And why would they kill for the rights? Why not ask your grandma? And,” Noel turns to me, “no offense, Izzy, but she was old. Why not just wait for her to die?”

  Jack leans against the wall, clearly defeated with Noel’s rebuff of his theory. Betty, however, is not so easily defeated. “Ladies, did anyone hear Anna talk about a mineral company wanting her land?”

  “It could be another type of company as well. Like maybe a mining company,” Jack is quick to add.

  “Could this have anything to do with that fracking that’s all over the news?” asks Rosemary.

  “What’s fracking?” Martha, Rose, Ally, and Betty want to know. I want to know as well, but I keep my mouth shut as if I already do know what it is. I look stupid enough on accident, no need to look stupid any more than that.

  Luckily, Noel does know what fracking is and explains. “It’s this new technique designed to recover gas and oil from rock.” Sounds simple enough.

  “But why do you ask?” I ask Rosemary.

  “A few months ago Anna started going on and on about fracking.” She shrugs. “I had no idea what she was talking about. I’d seen it on the news, but I didn’t really understand what it was.”