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

by D. E. Haggerty

  “Ready?” Tommy asks and I nod. He motions for me to proceed him down the stairs. “Milady.” I giggle at Tommy’s lame attempt at a bow or maybe it was a curtsy.

  Outside, there’s a convoy waiting. Tommy’s jeep takes the lead position with the grandma-mobile in the middle and Izzy’s car at the end. The grandmas are piled into Betty’s car and Jack and Damien are making out in the backseat of Izzy’s. I raise my eyebrows at Izzy, but she just shrugs as if she’s used to it. Grandma waves as I look her way before heading to Tommy’s jeep.

  My pencil skirt is a bit tight and I wobble while trying to get into the passenger seat of the jeep. Tommy rushes over and grabs me by the hips to place me on the seat. He uses the chance to rub circles into my hips with his thumbs and my body tingles. I shake my head at him. “Do that with all your female friends?” I tease.

  “Nope, Izzy’s my only other female friend and I think Noel would kill me if I ever looked at her like I look at you.” Before I can ask how he thinks he looks at me, he shuts the door and walks around the car to get in on the other side.

  “Um,” I mumble and try to gather my courage.

  “What is it, baby?” Tommy asks as he places the car in drive and takes off. I absolutely love it that he calls me baby and not babe, which is a total throwaway term of endearment.

  I close my eyes as it’s easier to be brave that way. “I need you to keep your distance at the funeral. I don’t want anyone having more reason to gossip about me. Murderer is bad enough. I don’t want to be an adulterer as well.”

  Tommy grabs my hand from my lap and I open my eyes to stare at our entwined hands. “You are not a murderer. And you are definitely not an adulterer, despite my best intentions.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Screw what everyone thinks.” I try to respond, but he jiggles my hand to indicate he’s not done speaking. “But I understand and I respect your wishes.” I sigh and lean my head against the cushiony seats.

  As we drive the hour to the city, I pray for some kind of time warp that deposits me at the end of this day eliminating my need to endure the funeral. My prayer is obviously unanswered as we arrive at the church before the funeral commences. I shake my head at the church. Brock wasn’t even a believer. He would hate a church funeral. Fred and Jenny obviously don’t care what Brock would want. No surprise there.

  Our convoy parks in the furthest corner of the church parking lot. I’m hoping it’s so that we can make a quick getaway after the service. I manage to jump out of the jeep without falling and head towards Grandma. She’s climbing out Betty’s car and reaches her hand out for me to help her. When she’s free of the vehicle, she gathers me in her arms. “I’m here, baby-girl,” she whispers as she holds me. I have to hold back the tears that threaten.

  The service isn’t for another half hour and we quietly stand in the parking lot watching mourners arrive. With each car that parks, my trepidation increases. What do these people think of me? They know Brock was murdered. Do they also know that I’m the only suspect the police are even pursuing? I take deep breaths and stare at the sky in the hopes to keep my tears at bay for a few more minutes.

  “Fuck this,” I hear Tommy mumble before he pushes his way from outside the circle through the grandmas to come grab my hand. “Who cares what everyone thinks? They don’t matter. The people right here, standing with you, they matter. They know you didn’t do anything wrong. They know that Brock was a monster.” He releases my hand and grabs my face between his hands. “No one else matters,” he whispers. He stares at my lips as if he wants to kiss me before shaking his head and bowing his head to place his forehead against mine. “No one else,” he repeats.

  Grandma clears her throat behind me. “Delilah, the service starts in fifteen minutes. We need to get inside.”

  I nod and move away from Tommy. Grandma grabs my hand and I clutch hers in return. We turn together and start walking to the entrance. The group surrounds us so that no one can get near me. We reach the wide-open doors to find Fred and Jenny Clark greeting mourners just inside the entrance. Grandma nods at them but doesn’t bother to stop. She walks down the aisle straight to the first pew reserved for family. Without hesitation, she sits and pulls me down next to her.

  The other grandmas pile into a pew a few rows back from us with Izzy while Jack, Damien, and Tommy stand near the wall at the end of our row. I take comfort in their closeness. I’m pretty sure that if someone so much as sneezes in my direction, Tommy’s going to take their head off.

  The casket arrives and everyone is quiet as it’s rolled through the aisle to the front of the church with the Clarks following. They take their seats next to Grandma and me but leave as much room as possible without being too obvious about the rift between us.

  I bow my head as the pastor arrives and I don’t raise it again until the service is finished. I don’t hear one word of the service. I have no idea who spoke, which friends praised Brock, which family members cried crocodile tears, and if anyone told jokes about Brock’s life. I can’t hear anything above the roar of blood in my ears and the breaths desperately escaping my lungs. My eyes sting and I blink like a maniac.

  I hear movement and realize that everyone is standing to exit the church. Before I can make my escape, Grandma and I have to file by Brock’s casket. I see the photo of Brock on top of the casket and shake my head. Obviously, Jenny chose this one. I nearly laugh. Brock hated that picture. He said it showed his bad side. What man is concerned with his bad side in a picture but not in real life?

  I kiss my fingers before placing my hand on the wood that now holds the remains of my husband. “Bye bastard,” I whisper. “You didn’t deserve my love.”

  Grandma is waiting for me at the head of the aisle. She grabs my hand and pulls me out of the church. Do not stop at go, do not collect $200. The others have snuck out of the church and are waiting at the car. They pass me around like a hot potato giving me hugs, cheek kisses, and simple words of condolence. Tommy’s right. These are the only people who matter.

  After being handed around, I stand in the middle of the group and swivel my head to look at everyone. I smile, although I know it doesn’t yet reach my eyes. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”

  Chapter 19

  “It is not possible to go forward while looking back.” Ludwig Mies van der Rohe

  Lunch after the funeral is a bit surreal as everyone is trying to cheer me up by telling outlandish jokes and stories. I’m sitting at a restaurant in my funeral clothes after saying goodbye to my rat bastard husband listening to everyone laugh. Yep, definitely surreal. On the plus side, I finally get to hear the entire story about how the gray-haired knitting detectives solved Izzy’s grandmother’s murder and found out who was stealing from Jack’s store. I can’t believe I was there, working at the store, while someone was embezzling from Jack and the ladies were running around trying to solve the theft and I didn’t notice anything. In my defense, I was a bit preoccupied at the time.

  We’re getting the bill when I decide to broach the topic of visiting Brock’s work. “So,” I start and then have to clear my throat because I just sounded like a frog. “About Brock’s work.”

  I get no further before Betty butts in. “We need to have a plan of action before we arrive. Good call, Delilah.”

  Um, no, that’s not what I meant – at all. I try again. “Well, Betty, I was thinking it would be better if just Grandma and I go in.” Rose’s face drops and I remember her comment about women in financial positions. “And Rose, of course.”

  “You’re not going in there without me, baby,” Tommy says in a take-no-prisoners-voice. I shake my head at him and mouth friends. He just grins in response. I roll my eyes at him because shivering in response to how beautiful that mouth is, is not an option.

  I resign myself to the entire grandma crew and groupies coming with me into Brock’s place of work. It’s only a five-minute drive to his office from where we had lunch so theoretically I don’t have time to get nervous. Theoreticall
y.

  The building is new and ultra-modern with mirrored glass covering its sides. My heels clickity clack on the marble floors as we walk to the elevators. Luckily, this is a big office building and my posse of nine easily fits into the elevator with me. The elevator opens on the sixth floor and we enter into a new level of opulence. The marble floors are still in evidence, but they are covered here and there with what I know to be authentic Persian rugs. On top of the rugs are elegant leather chairs and couches placed in a semi-circle in front of a tall reception area, paneled in oak.

  “Oh my gosh, this place is fancy,” gushes Martha as we walk in. She notices a few women working at desks behind the glass wall separating the waiting room from the main work floor. “Do you think there are any single gals working here? Bobby needs a wife.” Her eyes zoom in on the receptionist and she marches right on over to her. “Hi! I’m Martha. I’m a matchmaker. Are you single?”

  Oh, my god. Did she really just do that? Thankfully, I don’t know the receptionist. I grab Martha’s arm and try to pull her behind me. “Hi,” I say, smiling like a goon to distract the poor woman from Martha, who is now waving and winking at her. “I’m Mrs. Clark. I’m expected.”

  The receptionist finally pulls her gaze away from Martha and stares at me with wide eyes. “Oh, you’re Brock’s wife…er…widow.” She shakes her head. “Sorry.” She stands. “Follow me.” She starts walking but stops abruptly when she notices my entourage. She leans toward me and whispers. “Are they with you?”

  I shrug and smile. “I can’t seem to get rid of them.”

  “Hogwash,” Betty yells from the back of the group. “You love us, and you know it.”

  “I kinda do.” The receptionist raises an eyebrow at me. Oops! I didn’t mean to say that aloud.

  Me and my entourage move slowly through the large room full of cubicles until we get to a row of offices. I notice Lily, Brock’s secretary, at one desk and rush over to her. “Hi, Lily,” I greet, and she jumps up to hug me. I’ve always gotten along with Lily. Unlike me, she didn’t put up with any nonsense from Brock.

  “How are you doing?” She whispers to me as she gives me a tight hug.

  I shrug. “I have no idea. My life has turned into some scary rollercoaster ride and I just want to get off.” I try to make a joke, but she looks at me with pity in her eyes. She releases me and notices the group of grandmas following me. She raises an eyebrow at me and I shrug. She smirks and shakes her head. “Come on,” she grabs her keys from the top drawer of her desk and moves to the office behind her to unlock it.

  I scrunch my eyes in confusion. “Why is the door locked?”

  “Brock got a bit paranoid there towards the end. Wanted his office locked whenever he wasn’t around.” She motions me in and holds off the grandmas with a raised palm. “That’s why I wanted you to come in and clear everything out. I thought the police would come have a look after I found out he was murdered, but…” She shakes her head. “Obviously, they think they have everything figured out.”

  I study Brock’s secretary. Something doesn’t feel right about what she just said. My spidey senses are going crazy. Huh. Didn’t know I had spidey senses. “Is there something you need to tell me?” She blushes and looks to the floor. She shakes her head and refuses to otherwise answer my question. She goes back to her desk and the room is flooded with the grandmas, Izzy, and Tommy. Jack and Damien stand outside the door chatting away.

  Tommy comes straight to me and grabs my hand. “What do you want us to do?”

  I look around the office. Even though this is the same office Brock has had for years, I haven’t been here much. Brock didn’t like me coming to his office. The lack of emotion connected with this place will definitely make this part of my bizarre day easier. I notice some boxes folded in the corner. “I guess we start packing everything up in those boxes.” Tommy immediately walks to the boxes and starts putting them together.

  I walk out to Lily’s desk. “Uh, Lily?” She looks up from her computer and smiles, the awkward moment from minutes before forgotten. “What should we pack up? What belongs to the company?”

  “You can pack up everything,” she responds. “I’ve already taken care of the rest.” She reaches into her desk and pulls out a USB-stick. “You can copy his computer files onto this if you want.” I grab the stick and start to walk back into the office, but stop when I hear Damien ask Lily a question.

  “So, are they hiring now that Brock’s gone?”

  Lily shakes her head. “Nope, we’re downsizing so he won’t be replaced.”

  “Downsizing?” Damien pointedly looks around the plush offices. “It doesn’t look like they’re hurting for money.”

  Lily snorts. “Nope, have to maintain appearances.”

  That’s odd, but I don’t have time to think about maintaining appearances right now. I walk back into the office and approach Izzy, who’s rocking in the big office chair rubbing her belly. I hand her the USB-stick. “Think you can copy Brock’s files?”

  “As long as the computer isn’t password protected,” she answers and immediately leans forward to turn on the computer and monitor.

  The grandmas are chatting away while emptying the bookcases around the room. No one has touched Brock’s desk yet. Guess that’s my job then. I grab a box from Tommy. He smiles and winks at me. I just shake my head at him. I open the big bottom drawer of Brock’s desk and just throw everything in the box. There’s no way I’m going to sort through this while surrounded by Grandma and her knitting buddies. Two more drawers and I’m nearly done. I look over at Izzy.

  “Any luck?” I ask as she’s just staring at the computer.

  She shakes her head. “It’s password protected and I’m wondering if I should start trying birthdays and such or if I only get three tries before the system locks me out.” She bites on her fingernail and continues to stare at the monitor.

  I have no idea what to tell her so I turn back to the task at hand. There’s only one more drawer left. I pull on it, but it sticks. I try with two hands and finally managed to pry the drawer open, only it’s not really a drawer. It’s a shelf. There’s a piece of paper taped to the top. It has two columns. One column is a website name and one column appears to be a list of passwords. At the very top is a long password. I use my thumbnail to free the piece of paper from the shelf.

  “Try this,” I say to Izzy and hand her the piece of paper. I point to the password at the top of the sheet. She quickly types it in.

  “I’m in,” she says as she starts clicking away. I put the piece of paper into my purse. That may come in handy.

  I close up my box now that I’m finished with the desk and make sure all the drawers are pushed in, but the shelf gets stuck on something when I try to shut it. I open it again to see what the problem is and see a sticky note crammed between the shelf and the side of the desk. I fish it out and look at it. It’s an address – back home. I fall to my knees. What was Brock doing with an address from my hometown? He never went there. He hated it when I visited Grandma. They never got along and he refused to go with me to visit her. Before I can figure out this puzzle, Tommy’s kneeling in front of me.

  “What’s going on?” He asks but doesn’t wait for an answer. He plucks the sticky note out of my fingers. “Son of a bitch, the asshole was in town the whole time,” he mutters.

  “Get Lily,” I whisper. Tommy looks at me for a second before nodding. I manage to stand and somewhat compose myself before he returns a moment later with her.

  “Has Brock been working in the office the past months?” I stare at her as I ask.

  She shrugs. “You know Brock. Always running around, wining and dining clients. He was in and out.” She takes a moment to think about it. “But yeah, now that I think about it, I do think he was around less in the past months. Why?”

  I gulp. “Did you know I left Brock?” Her eyes bug out and I have my answer. Did Brock not tell anyone I took off? Was he so sure of his ability to manipulate me into co
ming back that he didn’t bother to tell anyone I’d left?

  “Bastard.” I look up to see Tommy gritting his teeth. He’s apparently thinking the same thing I am. Lily backs out of the room. I can’t blame her. Tommy looks like he’s about to explode.

  Grandma comes over and puts a hand on Tommy’s arm. He looks at her and nods. She smiles up at him and then looks at me. She holds out her hand to me. “Come on, Dee, we’re finished here.”

  I look around the office and notice that we are indeed finished. The shelves of the bookcases are empty and there were no pictures on the wall or knickknacks on the desk to begin with. Jack and Damien are each holding boxes. Tommy reaches down to pick up the box I just finished packing. That’s it then. Three boxes to sum up the years of Brock’s life working in this office.

  I walk out and go to Lily. “We’re leaving,” I say and she stands to give me another hug. “You have my email address if you need anything,” I whisper as she hugs me.

  I walk out of the office with the grandmas and their groupies filing behind me. I don’t bother seeking out any of Brock’s colleagues. I didn’t really know any of them anyway and I need another connection to Brock like I need another grandma in this posse. The elevator dings open and we pile in. The doors close and I can’t help but wish that the Brock chapter of my life was as easy to close.

  Chapter 20

  “But better to get hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie.” Khaled Hosseini

  I’m so excited to be home that I almost miss Tommy following me up the stairs to my loft apartment. I turn on the stairs and raise an eyebrow at him. Of course, he doesn’t reply, just smiles. I shake my head and continue on to my apartment. At the door, I stop and turn around.