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

by D. E. Haggerty

  ♥♥♥

  I’m at work for an hour before Jack confronts me. He points at me and says, “In the back. Now.” Then, he turns on his heel and marches out. Not waiting to see if I’ll follow. Son of a gun! I hope he’s not going to fire me. I really need this job. And I like it here. Who knew working at a store for cross-dressers would be so much fun?

  Jack’s waiting for me in his office when I finally get my feet unstuck and follow him through the employee-only door at the back of the store. He’s standing behind his desk with his arms crossed over his chest. He doesn’t look like the fun-loving Jack I know. I really am in trouble.

  “Shut the door behind you,” he says as I step into the office.

  “Are you going to fire me?” I’m mortified to hear the stutter in my voice. I never stuttered until Brock turned into an asshat.

  Jack sighs and drops his arms. “Of course not, Dee, but maybe you shouldn’t be working today. You’re all over the place. Danny’s complaining that you’re screwing up and he has to fix everything.”

  Gosh, darn it! Danny’s the floor manager and a total sweetie. I thought we got along, but apparently everyone has a breaking point. I look at the floor and respond. “I just realized this morning that I need to call Brock’s parents and somehow get a funeral arranged for my asshat husband. Am I supposed to act bereaved at the funeral? I can’t lie for a darn!”

  “Shit, Dee,” Jack says and walks around his desk to pull me into his arms. “I didn’t think of that.”

  I snort. “Neither did I until this morning. Some wife I am.” Jack leans away from me to look at my face but keeps me enveloped in his arms. “I called Noel this morning and he told me that the body is still at the morgue for a while so I have time.” I take a deep breath before continuing. “And he said the Clarks have been notified because the police are talking to everyone Brock knew.”

  Jack releases me and takes ahold of my hand to guide me to a chair. He sits me down and grabs the chair next to me. “Okay,” he says once he’s seated. He grabs my hands and squeezes. “What are you going to do now?”

  “I guess I have to call Brock’s parents. I haven’t talked to them since I left. I have no idea what Brock told them. They probably think I’m a total brat for not calling already and dropping by.” I release Jack’s hands and let my face fall into my hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Where do Brock’s parents live?”

  I look at Jack to see him leaning back in his chair. “In Oklahoma City.”

  “And we’re going there tomorrow afternoon anyway, right?”

  Wait, what? Yeah, okay, I know we planned a field trip to the coroner’s office for Thursday afternoon, but is the whole town coming with? “Um, you’re coming with tomorrow?”

  Jack rolls his eyes. “Of course I am, darling. The knitting detectives, Izzy, Damien, and I are coming.” At least Tommy’s not part of the line-up. Jack waves that thought away. “Why don’t we just visit the in-laws before we go to the coroner. In fact, maybe we should leave a little earlier so we have time to fit everything in.”

  Jack doesn’t wait for my response. He jumps up and moves to the phone on his desk. He picks it up and starts dialing. I don’t bother to stay and listen. It appears I can’t control anything this group does anyway. Might as well get my butt back to work for as long as I still have a job.

  Chapter 14

  “You want to believe that there's one relationship in life that's beyond betrayal. A relationship that's beyond that kind of hurt. And there isn't.” Caleb Carr

  It’s not even eleven yet on Thursday morning when Fabulous, Darling is invaded by the gray-haired grandmas or should I start calling them the gray-haired knitting detectives? Now there’s a scary thought. Grandma bounces right up to me with a mile-wide smile on her face. “Ready to go?”

  I look at her in confusion. “It’s not even noon.”

  She shrugs. “We need to get an early start if we’re going to tackle those in-laws of yours before we go visit Bobby at the morgue.”

  Jack rushes out of the employee entrance with Damien hot on his heels. His wide eyes take in the ladies looking around the store, making sure they touch and comment on every piece of clothing they find. He claps his hands. “Ladies, ladies. Let’s get on the road. I made lunch reservations, which you are not going to want to miss!”

  That got the attention of every gray head in the house. “Where?” demands Betty from the fancy dress corner.

  “Let’s just say they’ll be brewing there today.” Oh great. Jack did not seriously make reservations for lunch at a local brewery with the grandmas? They’re not enough trouble as it is? Let’s add some alcohol to the mix, why don’t we? I can’t decide if the man is brave or crazy. Probably a bit of both. The ladies need no time for contemplation. They’re already pushing through the employee-only door at the rear of the store.

  “Come on, Dee!” shouts Martha. “I don’t want to be late.” Oh gosh, I hope this Bobby character is married. Martha looks entirely too excited for a brewery lunch. Only matchmaking gets her this motivated.

  I sigh and follow the ladies out to the rear parking area where I find another surprise waiting for me. I’m really starting to hate surprises. Amongst the grandmas, Jack, Damien, and Izzy stands Tommy. He’s all smiles. I roll my eyes, but Tommy isn’t bothered by my admittedly weak attempt at defiance. He walks right up to me and gives me a hug. “This is what friends are for, right?” He over emphasizes the word friend so I can’t misunderstand his decision to misuse my plea for a friends-only relationship.

  “Shotgun!” Izzy yells before jumping into the front passenger seat of a brand-new looking Jeep Grand Cherokee. Tommy follows her and I can’t help staring at his behind. Gosh, that man has a fine rear.

  I look at Jack. “I don’t even know whose car that is.”

  He grabs my hand. “Come on. That’s Tommy’s Jeep. We’re riding with him.” I don’t move with him and he stops. “Unless you want to be in the grandma-mobile?” My legs move of their own accord at that point.

  I get in the back seat with Jack and Damien. Even if they weren’t being all cuddly, there’s plenty of room back here. “This is a really nice car.” I didn’t realize I spoke that thought until the mumbled “thanks” from the front seat confirms I did, in fact, speak my thoughts out loud.

  ♥♥♥

  The hour drive to the Clark’s house passes quickly with the banter between Jack and Izzy filling the car. Damien jumps in a few times when he thinks Jack’s getting out of hand. He doesn’t berate Jack. Instead, when Jack starts to pout, Damien lays a hot kiss on him that makes me fan my face. Tommy catches my eyes in the rearview mirror and wiggles his eyebrows at me. I laugh before remembering that I’m mad at Tommy.

  When we pull up at the Clarks house, I take a deep breath and start to beg. “Can you guys please stay in the car?”

  Jack looks at me with sympathy and nods. “Of course, darling. Rosemary’s going in with you.” He looks at his watch and smiles. “Our reservation is in 45 minutes. You just have to get through a half hour with them.”

  “You did that on purpose,” I whisper.

  Jack smiles and nods before reaching forward to pull me to him for a hug. “All bets are off if they make you cry,” he whispers into my hair and the waterworks nearly begin before I even manage to get out of the vehicle.

  I take a deep breath and pull myself away and smile at him. I nod because I can’t speak without tears leaking at the moment. “Knock ‘em dead,” Izzy shouts from the front seat breaking the tension.

  Grandma knocks on my window and I turn to her and nod. Yep, I can do this. I climb out of the car, and Grandma grabs my hand before we walk to the front door. “How did you get the others to stay in the car?”

  Grandma shakes her head at me. “I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve.” I’m sure she does.

  I ring the doorbell and pray that the Clarks aren’t home, even though Jenny’s car is in the driveway. No chance of ‘a
ccidentally’ missing them then. The door is opened by a red-eyed Jenny. Jenny is the typical trophy-wife. Even in her late 50s, she’s absolutely beautiful with not a wisp of perfectly dyed blonde hair out of place. Of course, her outfit is impeccable as well. No wrinkles allowed here. Only the red eyes give away her grief over the loss of her only son. Jenny doesn’t say anything, she just opens the door all the way and motions with her hand for us to enter. I immediately move through the house to the kitchen, the room of the house from which Jenny oversees her kingdom.

  We stand awkwardly in the kitchen for a few moments before Grandma clears her throat. Oh yeah, maybe I should make some introductions. “Jenny, this is my grandma, Rosemary. Maybe you remember her from the wedding?” Because Grandma hasn’t come to any family gatherings since then. She wasn’t very subtle about her dislike of Brock even before he became an asshat. Maybe her potential-asshat-detector went off around Brock? I should ask her about that and where I can get one.

  Jenny walks forward and shakes Grandma’s hand before indicating that we should take seats at the kitchen table. Of course, Jenny, as the perfect wife, would never outwardly indicate her dislike of someone. What was I thinking? And this is what Brock wanted me to be. A perfectly dressed robot with no feelings? A Stepford wife? I nearly shiver before I pull myself together.

  “Coffee?” Jenny asks. Grandma and I nod in unison. We remain silent while Jenny makes a beautiful coffee tray complete with a small plate of shortbread cookies. They’re probably homemade cookies, which bugs the heck out of me.

  Grandma takes a sip of her coffee and then it’s clear she’s done with whatever this weird vibe thing is that Jenny is throwing out. “So,” Grandma begins. “We need to discuss Brock’s funeral.”

  Jenny glares at Grandma for a second before remembering her manners and blanking her face so that no emotion is visible. “Fred and I will be handling everything since Delilah no longer wanted to be a part of Brock’s life.” An actual knife in my back would be less painful.

  When Brock first started becoming emotional abusive, I went to Jenny. I thought I had an excellent relationship with my mother-in-law. I couldn’t have been more wrong. What an idiot I’d been! She basically told me to suck it up and sent me back to Brock. I didn’t even bother to reach out to her when Brock’s abuse turned physical. I just started putting my plan into motion.

  Grandma nods at Jenny, not at all put out by her words. She probably expected something of the sort. “That’s fine,” she says and I unconsciously start to rise out of my chair, but she puts a hand on my thigh and pushes me down. “But Delilah, as the widow of Brock, will be mentioned in the announcements as one of the survivors, just below you and your husband as the parents of Brock.”

  Jenny’s face turns red, but she takes a quick inhale and goes back to robot Jenny. “That’s fine as long as Delilah is not involved in the preparation in any other way. We’ll be having a gathering at our house after the funeral and Delilah is not welcome.”

  I rapidly blink my eyes to control the tears that form at the venom in her voice. Yes, I left Brock, but she knows how he treated me. Why is she punishing me for getting away from an awful situation? Is she really that cruel?

  Grandma nods. “Agreed, but Dee and myself will be sitting in the front row of the church with the rest of the family at the funeral.”

  Jenny nods before quickly standing. “Well, I guess that’s all we need to discuss then.”

  I’m still reeling from her betrayal as I stand. I grab onto Grandma’s hand to ground me. “You’ll call me with the funeral arrangements?” Grandma asks as she follows Jenny out of the kitchen and down the hallway.

  Jenny opens the door and motions for us to exit. “Of course.” I’m barely outside before she shuts the door forcefully.

  Grandma drags me to the car whispering to me. “Hold on until we get out of here. Don’t give that bitch the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart.”

  I’m not that strong though and we’re half way down the walk when my steps start to falter. Only I don’t fall because Tommy’s there and picking me up. He carries me to the back seat of the Jeep. He sets me inside before climbing in after me. Once he’s seated, he picks me up and places me in his lap. Jack’s at the wheel and takes off before Tommy even has the chance to shut the door.

  “Well, that went well,” I say before I burst into tears.

  Chapter 15

  “Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple.” Dr. Seuss

  Lunch passes in a blur and before I know it, we’re parked in front of a squat, one-story typical looking governmental building. Although we’ve pulled into a parking spot, Tommy keeps the engine running and no one moves. “What’s going on?” I ask as I look around. Again, everyone seems to know what’s happening except me.

  “We’re waiting for Bobby,” Jack answers as he watches the front door open. A man walks out dressed in casual slacks and a button-down shirt. Martha jumps out of the car and rushes him. I can see the man’s blush from the parking lot. Martha finally releases him and grabs his hand to pull him to the grandma-mobile. They jump in and Betty takes off with us following.

  “Why can’t we just go inside his office and talk to him?”

  Tommy shakes his head from the driver’s seat. “Viewings aren’t allowed at the ME’s office. Bobby isn’t even supposed to be talking to us about the case. I was willing to use my badge, but your grandma didn’t want me to. She said we could just go to a coffee shop or something.”

  It seems there was a lot more planning of this trip than I was aware of. We pass several buildings from the University of Oklahoma and turn into the parking lot of a coffee shop. Everyone climbs out of the car and heads toward the entrance. Luckily, the coffee shop is nearly deserted. The group heads to a corner and the men start grabbing chairs and tables to make enough room for our large group. Tommy asks what everyone wants and goes to place the order.

  Grandma pulls me to the seat next to her. Martha is on my left and Bobby is facing her. Martha is bouncing in her seat from excitement. “It’s so great to see you, Bobby.”

  Bobby laughs and shakes his head. “It’s Bob now.” Even though his voice sounds normal, his eyes are darting around the room.

  “You’ll always be little Bobby to me.” I can’t help laughing. Martha is short like me and although Bobby is only a few inches taller than us, he definitely enjoys eating. He has a stomach pouch straining against his belt and the buttons on his shirt are nearly at their popping limit.

  Bobby turns to me. “You must be Delilah.”

  “You can call me Dee,” I say as I reach forward to shake his hand. His hand is slippery with perspiration. I inwardly cringe but don’t let my emotions show on the outside. I guess Brock’s training is good for something after all. Tommy reaches forward and places my coffee in front of me in such a way that I’m forced to release Bobby’s hand. Tommy doesn’t take a seat after handing out the coffees. Instead, he comes to stand behind my seat and places his hands on my shoulders. I’m not really happy with this jealous and possessive behavior, but I don’t want to take the time to get into it now. I sincerely doubt with the way Bobby is acting that he’ll talk to us again after today.

  “My condolences on your loss,” Bobby’s voice sounds nearly robotic. I guess he has to say that a lot.

  “Thank you,” I murmur and stare at the table. I don’t want my eyes to give away the fact that I’m leaning towards not giving a flying Fudgsicle about Brock’s death.

  “So,” Betty says from her place next to Bobby. “We know this is unusual, but we’re wondering if you can help us.”

  Bobby’s eyes widen and he looks to Betty. “Help you how?”

  Betty pulls out her trusty notebook and pen. “We want to know when Brock died.”

  “I could get in a lot of trouble for telling you that,” he says before clearing his throat.

  I feel Tommy move from behind me. I turn to see him pull a badge out of his pocket and sh
ow it to Bobby. “Would you feel better just talking to me?” Bobby just stares at him. “Unofficial like.”

  “You know that’s not how things work,” Bobby whispers and his eyes dart around the room again. Luckily, our group is large and Bobby is stuck in the corner with a gang of grandmas and a gay couple displaying way too much public affection between him and the other coffee shop patrons. Tommy just continues to stare at Bobby. Just like Noel, Tommy has the investigator look. His arms are crossed over his chest making his muscles look huge and he just stares at Bobby. He’s not exactly glaring, but it’s still intimidating as all heck.

  Of course, Bobby breaks first. “What do you want to know?” I hear Grandma’s sigh of relief next to me.

  Betty immediately jumps at Bobby’s willingness to talk to us. “We only want to know when Brock died. That’s all. The police are convinced Dee here killed Brock and aren’t even looking for other suspects. It’s up to us to investigate.”

  Bobby’s eyes widen and he looks around the group. “You? You’re going to investigate?”

  Rose answers him. “Of course we are. We aren’t just some dumb, old ladies. We’ve already solved two crimes. One of them was even a murder.”

  I don’t know whether I should slap my hand over Rose’s mouth to get her to be quiet or clap at her quiet pride of the group. Bobby apparently doesn’t know how to respond either. He’s silent for a moment. “You won’t tell anyone where you got the information?”

  The ladies tsk in harmony. “No one outside of our group will know,” Martha answers. I notice she doesn’t define who is in ‘our group.’

  Bobby drops his head in defeat. “Okay, fine. Brock died on Sunday afternoon, sometime between 2 and 8 p.m.”

  Martha reaches across the table and grabs Bobby’s hand to squeeze. “Thank you, Bobby. I knew we could rely on you.”

  The conversation turns to more mundane topics. Bobby’s grandparents, who were Martha’s neighbors, moved to Florida a few years ago and Bobby fills Martha in on how they’re doing. Bobby confesses he’s single and Martha pouts that he’s too far away for her to perform her matchmaking magic. She actually uses the word ‘magic.’