Grandma shakes her head at him before approaching me. “Come on, baby-girl. Let’s get out of here.” She grabs my wrist and pulls me out of the station with the other grandmas following.
Chapter 11
“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends.” Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey
I’m not even slightly surprised when the convoy heads to Izzy’s house. It appears Izzy’s house is the go-to spot for Grandma and her crew. We pile out of the cars and everyone heads into the house like they’ve done this a million times before. What do I know? They probably have.
Instead of going to the sunroom, everyone gathers around the dining room table. Ally moves into the kitchen and starts making coffee. Rose is right behind her gathering cups and saucers. I’m forcefully pushed into a chair by Jack, who just smiles at me as if this is the most normal thing in the world. I roll my eyes at him and he sticks his tongue out at me.
Betty takes the seat at the head of the table, which doesn’t surprise me at all. That woman is the general of this group of grandmas if there ever was one. She takes out a notebook and pen and starts scribbling in it. That’s a bit strange, even for this group. I scrunch my eyes at her.
The coffee is distributed and the group settles down. The grandmas are all sitting as is Izzy, of course. Jack and Damien are leaning against a wall holding hands and whispering to each other. Noel is standing behind Izzy with his hands on his hips as if he’s guarding her or something.
“So,” Betty says after it quiets down. “Tell us what you know, Noel.”
My eyes widen as Noel pulls a small notebook from his back pocket. The man wouldn’t tell me a thing as he led me into a police car to be brought to the station. “Brock was found murdered on Monday morning,” he begins.
“Hold up!” I put my hand out like a stop sign. “What the heck’s going on here?” I point to Noel. “This man wouldn’t tell me anything this morning. Now he’s filling you guys in.” I shake my head in confusion.
“Well, dear,” Grandma answers. “We have a bit of a reputation for solving crimes in town.”
I snort. She can’t be serious. “I call them the Gray-Haired Knitting Detectives,” Jack fills in from behind me. I turn and face him. “Really?” He shrugs.
“It all started when my grandma was murdered,” Izzy says. I know Anna, Izzy’s grandma, was murdered. Everyone in the state probably knows about the mining company employee who went to visit crazy-town and decided to settle down there.
“The police thought that Anna died of natural causes, but we knew something was wrong,” chimes in Ally. The other ladies nod.
“Yeah,” Izzy agrees. “We investigated and it turned out we were right. We found the killer.” Noel growls behind Izzy. I have a feeling there’s much more to the story than that, but now is certainly not the time to explore the issue.
“And then when someone was stealing from my store, they stepped in and helped me investigate,” Jack adds to my general confusion. I work at Jack’s store, but I had no idea that there had been a theft! I turn my wide eyes on him and he smiles that panty-dropping smile of his.
“So,” I pause, unsure how to proceed. “You want to help clear my name? Prove I didn’t do it?”
I can practically hear the eye rolls. “Yes,” Betty answers and the other ladies nod in agreement.
I look to Noel. “And you’re okay with this?”
Noel twitches his nose. I think that’s the alpha male equivalent of rolling his eyes. “It’s not like he has a choice,” Izzy answers on his behalf. “We’re going to do it anyway.” Now Noel really does roll his eyes.
“So,” Betty brings the meeting back to order. “You were saying?”
Noel’s response is interrupted when Jack’s phone rings. “It’s Tommy,” he whispers and now it’s my turn to roll my eyes.
“Hey, man,” Jack answers. “Yeah, I’m with her now.” He listens a bit before placing the phone in his hand and looking at me. “Do you mind if Tommy comes over?”
My eyes bug out of my head. “Seriously? I don’t even know the man! Of course I don’t want him to come over.”
Jack puts the phone back to his ear. “Sorry man, she’s a bit overwhelmed right now.” “Yeah, I’ll tell her.” He hangs up and looks at me. “He’s worried about you. Wants you to give him a call.” Whatever.
Betty clears her throat. “Back to the business at hand.” She stares at Noel until he picks his notebook up again.
“I don’t know much. Because of the conflict of interest, I’m not allowed in on the investigation.” He states before looking at his notebook. “So Brock was found on Monday morning.”
Something just occurred to me. “Wait! Brock lives in Oklahoma City. Why is the local police department investigating this? They don’t have jurisdiction.”
Noel clears his throat. “Well, actually, Brock was found dead here.”
“Like in some sleazy motel,” Jack assumes, but Noel shakes his head. “Um, no. As far as I know, he was found in an apartment.”
I gasp. Was Brock here the whole time? Has he been stalking me? Grandma places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes.
Before I have a chance to question Noel about the location of Brock’s murder, Rose speaks up. “You keep saying Brock was found, but when was he murdered?”
Noel shrugs. “There’s no time of death yet. We assume it was sometime over the weekend.”
“And I was all alone all weekend,” I mumble. “Shoot! I’m going to fry for Brock’s murder.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Damien speaks for the first time. “They don’t use the electric chair in Oklahoma. It’s lethal injection.”
Flying fiddlesticks! That does not make me feel better. “That’s so not funny,” Jack says and slaps Damien.
“I was just kidding. There’s no way anyone could believe Dee is a murderer.”
“Yeah,” I grunt in response. “Because I didn’t just spend the morning being interrogated.”
Betty waves her hand for everyone to calm down. “Enough. We know you didn’t do it. We just need to nail down the time of death so that we can get you an alibi.”
“I did not just hear that,” Noel booms.
“Then leave,” Grandma dares Noel. “We’ll do what we have to do to make sure Dee is safe.” God, I love my grandma.
Noel’s head drops to his chest and he stares at the floor, but he doesn’t leave. “So.” Betty’s voice is back to her general impersonation. “How do we find out the time of death?”
Noel sighs. “The body has been taken to the medical examiner for an autopsy. They should be able to pin down the time of death.”
“The medical examiner? There’s no medical examiner in town,” Rose pipes in. I’m beginning to think there’s nothing Rose doesn’t know. She’s smart as a whip even if she does let Betty run the show.
Noel shakes his head. “Nope. The body’s been taken to Oklahoma City.”
Grandma looks at Martha. “Isn’t little Bobby a doctor in the city now?”
Martha smiles like the cat that caught the canary. “He’s not only a doctor, he’s a pathologist.”
“Whoo! Hold up,” I say as I raise my hand like I’m back in school or something. “Who’s Bobby?”
“The grandson of my neighbor,” Martha answers. “I used to babysit him when he came to visit in the summer.” She smiles. “I haven’t seen him in ages. You know, I’m really missing him. Maybe I should visit him.”
“Okay, that’s the plan then,” Betty says with a note of finality. “We’ll go visit Bobby and see what he knows.”
The ladies stand and start to gather their things. The party is obviously over. I grab Jack’s attention. “Can I get a ride back to the store?”
Jack raises an eyebrow at me. “You want to work now?”
I nod. “Yep, I’m not going to spend the afternoon in my apartment thinking about Brock getting his brains blown out.” I shudder.
Jack nods. “Okay, com
e on then.” He grabs Damien’s hand and they head outside. I give Izzy a quick hug and Grandma a kiss before following them. I totally need a break from talk of murder and grandmas playing detective.
Chapter 12
“Honey, a girl can’t keep a man like that as a friend. He’s a lover or an ex-lover, but never a friend.” Nicole Williams, Crash
I end up spending the afternoon coughing and sneezing, also known as doing inventory in the dusty back room of Jack’s store. I don’t think Jack really needed inventory done. He just wanted me to keep my mind busy instead of dwelling on Brock’s head being blown off. Which, full body shiver, I’m totally down with. I’m sweaty, grimy, and exhausted when I finally climb the stairs to my apartment.
I open the door and nearly scream in surprise. “What the heck?” I yell. The room’s been turned into some romantic fantasy with flowers in jugs and burning candles placed around the room. I turn to the kitchen to see Tommy at the stove wearing an apron that has a leprechaun shouting ‘Kiss Me I’m Irish’ on it.
“What are you doing here?” I ask when Tommy finally turns around from the stove.
“Isn’t it obvious?” He smiles and my girlie parts quiver. Stupid girlie parts. “I’m cooking you dinner.”
I roll my eyes at him and tell my girls to calm down. “Um, yeah, I get that. What are you doing cooking dinner in my apartment?”
He shrugs. “You wouldn’t take my calls. You didn’t want me to come over to Izzy’s today, but I needed to make sure you’re okay.” He turns back to the stove as if it’s not a big deal.
“How did you get into my home?” I throw my purse on the sofa because every other surface is covered with flowers or candles and walk to the kitchen area.
Tommy clears his throat. “Well, um, your grandma gave me the keys.”
Oh, my God! That woman meddles into my life more than Homeland Security does in the tweets of a terrorist. I sink into a chair. “Seriously, Tommy, it’s sweet that you want to do something nice for me, but I’m exhausted. Not to mention dirty and sweaty. I found out my husband was murdered today and the police think I had something to do with it. I’m in no mood for company.”
Tommy drops the spatula and stalks over to me. He kneels in front of me and grabs my hands. “That’s exactly why you need a good meal and some totally awesome company to forget about everything.” He winks at me. “Now,” he says as he stands and pulls me to my feet. “You’ve got 15 minutes to take a shower and get changed before dinner’s ready.” He pushes me towards the bathroom and for good measure slaps my butt as I go.
I growl at him. He just chuckles and walks back to the stove. Well, I do need a shower. I quickly shower and wash my hair. I don’t bother drying my hair let alone combing it. Up in a big bun on top of my head it goes. Just to be contrary, I put on my well-worn flannel pajamas that have little hearts on them.
Tommy laughs when he sees me come out of the bathroom. “If you’re trying to make yourself look ugly to push me away, it’s totally not working.” He shakes his head. “You look fucking adorable.”
Okay, yeah, I was kind of trying to chase him away. What man thinks flannel pajamas are cute? Note to self: Tommy may or may not be completely crazy.
“Take a seat. Dinner’s ready,” he says as he points to the table with an oven mitt.
I sit and watch as Tommy places a big dish of lasagna on the table. There’s also a basket of garlic bread and a bowl of salad. Tommy throws the oven mitts onto the counter and grabs a bottle of wine. He pours me a glass before sitting down.
“I stole a bottle from your stash. I wasn’t sure what you liked.” He looks a bit sheepish as he says it and I decide to tease him by glaring at him as if I care that he used one of my bottles of wine. He blushes. “I’ll replace it now that I know what you like.”
I laugh. “I don’t care. It’s there to be enjoyed, not look pretty and gather dust.”
Tommy shakes his head at me. “Give me your plate.” He grabs the plate from my hands and fills it with a huge helping of lasagna, some salad, and a few pieces of garlic bread.
“This looks awesome! I didn’t know you could cook,” I say as I dig in.
“I’m a fireman. Of course I can cook.”
“I didn’t know that.” I set my fork down and study the man in front of me. “In fact, I don’t know anything about you, including why you would be interested in me.”
Tommy shrugs. “What do you want to know?” I notice he ignores the last question I asked him. I decide to let it go. I’m generous like that.
“So you’re a fireman? I thought the town had a volunteer fire department.”
Tommy nods. “It’s about 50/50. Half are volunteers and half are professionals.”
“So you’re a professional?” I moan around a bite of the lasagna. It really is good. Probably a gazillion calories but totally yummy.
Tommy’s eyes widen and he stares at me before shaking his head and answering my question. “Yep, I’m actually an investigator.” He bows. “Investigator Baker at your service, ma’am.”
“Oh, so that’s how you know Noel?”
“Nope.” He stops to chew for a moment before continuing. “I know Noel through Jack.” He blushes slightly and I laugh as I remember the reason Tommy knows Jack is that they went out on a date because Tommy had told Martha the matchmaker he was gay. Seriously, nothing will stop Martha from playing matchmaker.
We finish the rest of the meal in silence. It’s not awkward or anything. I’m feeling the past few days catching up with me, though. Just a few days ago I was at the courthouse to file for a restraining order against my husband and today I’m a widow. I gasp as I think of Brock’s head being blown off. Tommy looks up sharply. “Are you okay?”
I start to nod but then shake my head. “It’s been a weird few days.”
Tommy stands. “Why don’t you take your glass over to the couch and I’ll do the dishes?” I start to protest, but he shakes his head and points to the sofa.
The next thing I know I’m being jostled awake. I look up to see Tommy standing above me rubbing my shoulder. “Hey,” I say a bit confused as to what’s going on.
“You fell asleep.” I sit up and curl into the corner of the sofa. Tommy sits next to me and grabs my hand. “The dishes are done.” I look around and notice the candles have been extinguished and the dinner table is cleared.
I clear my throat and decide that I’m going to be brave. I’m going to make Tommy see the light. “Look,” I start, but my voice sounds scratchy so I clear it again before starting over. “I really appreciate your concern.” Tommy begins to speak, but I stop him with a look. He quickly shuts his mouth. “I’m not being a bitch or anything, but I’m seriously not ready for another relationship. Whether Brock was a good husband or not, we were together for more than a decade and now he’s dead. I found out this morning that I’m a widow. I can’t even contemplate that.” I take a deep breath and look at Tommy. “So, what I’m trying to say is this. You either back-off or this, whatever this is,” I motion between the two of us, “is over.”
Tommy nods. “So friends then?” And then he smiles so, of course, I can’t say no.
“No more pushing,” I clarify with the little bit of backbone I still have.
“Can I be involved in the investigation?”
I roll my eyes. “You mean the antics of the crazy grandmas?” He just laughs in response and I nod because it’s not like I have any control over them anyway.
Chapter 13
“Forgetfulness - a gift of God bestowed upon debtors in compensation for their destitution of conscience.” Ambrose Bierce
I’m walking to work on Wednesday morning when I realize what a complete and utter airhead I’ve been. I guess there’s a reason God gave me blonde hair. Shootawhoota! I nearly slap my hand on my forehead before remembering that such behavior is not proper for a wife. Gosh, darn it! Will that voice ever get out of my head? Before I can berate myself further, I grab my phone and dial Noel. He�
�ll know what to do.
“Hi, Dee. How are you?” Noel’s voice momentarily calms me, but when I respond, I’m immediately thrown back into anxietyville.
“I totally forgot about Brock’s funeral. I mean, shoot, I was still married to the asshat when he was murdered. I guess I need to arrange his burial or whatever. And what about his parents? I need to tell his parents what happened. I think they hate me.” I take a break from my rambling to catch my breath and Noel uses the opportunity to cut in.
“There’s nothing to worry about Dee. Brock’s body hasn’t been released from the coroner’s office yet. And,” he pauses. “Brock’s family was already notified.”
That stops me. “Already notified? But I’m the next of kin.” Admittedly, I only know about police procedure from television programs and my closet obsession with true-crime novels, but I think that I’m the one that should have been notified and not Brock’s parents.
“Normally that’s true. Since this is a homicide investigation, there are police questioning everyone in Brock’s life. Obviously, they can’t question his parents unless they know what’s happened.”
“Okay.” Noel’s reason makes sense. “What do I do now?”
“The family assistance coordinator will call you. Oh, crap. No, they won’t contact you since you’re a suspect.” Noel clears his voice and I can hear him take a deep breath. “Talk to his parents. Work something out about the funeral. You have some time as the body probably won’t be released for a couple days.” I hear a commotion in the background. “Gotta go. I’m at work.” Noel doesn’t wait for my response before he hangs up.
Darn it all to heck! I guess I’ve got to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Clark. We used to get along – until Brock turned into an asshat. I’m sure they’re angry that I just ran out on Brock. And it seems I’m still a suspect in my husband’s murder. Is it so wrong to want a simple life? I sigh and continue on my way to work.
The Gray-Haired Knitting Detective Series: (Books 1 - 3) Page 35
