Just You Wait: A Grace Street Mystery (Grace Street Mysteries)

by Jane Tesh

  “You put him up to this.”

  I knew eventually she’d blame me for Camden’s panic attack. “Yes, of course. As an expert in break ups, I spent days planning to destroy your marriage. And why would I do a thing like that?”

  “Because you see me as a threat to your secure little setup at the house.”

  “I have no problem co-existing with you. If you’ll relax and enjoy it, 302 Grace is a great place.”

  She glanced at the picture frames as if trying to decide which size would do the most damage to my skull. “You know the reason Cam is acting this way.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Are you talking about our super secret brain link?”

  She wasn’t going to admit to any psychic connection. “Don’t be ridiculous. I mean you two tell each other everything.”

  “Whoa.” I made the time out sign with my hands. “Hold on. Time. Women tell each other everything. Guys only share the important info, like who’s bringing the beer.”

  “Like why one of them is calling off the wedding. You must have some idea.”

  Yes, but Camden doesn’t want you to know his latest trick. Not that you can’t levitate on your own. “It’s between you and Camden. If he doesn’t want to get married, there must be a damn good reason.”

  “And if you’re such a damn good detective, you’ll find out. I’m hiring you.”

  I felt my eyes bulge. “What?”

  “I’m hiring you. Solve the mystery. Find out why Cam won’t marry me.” She whacked a pile of bills onto my clipboard. “And since you already know, this will be the easiest money you ever made.”

  I tried to catch the money as it spilled over the clipboard. “Wait a minute. Ellin, I can’t take this case.”

  “Because you already know the answer.”

  “Because this is something Camden has to work out.”

  She leaned in, blue eyes glittering. The glass in the picture frames trembled. “You’re such a pal. You help him work it out. You have until two o’clock, Sunday, May 31st.”

  As she stalked out, I heard a chuckle one aisle over. “Randall, you sure have a way with the ladies.”

  I managed to corral the last of the dollar bills. “That one is not mine.”

  Ted came around the corner, hands in the pockets of his white smock. “She hired you.”

  “And I’m giving her money back.”

  “So what’s with Cam? Cold feet? I thought he and Ellin were a sure thing.”

  “He’s a little nervous, that’s all. He’ll marry her. The show must go on.”

  ***

  The show must go on, indeed. At three o’clock, I met Kary at the appointed rendezvous place. She parked Turbo beside the Fury in the large public lot across from the Sears warehouse and got out. She was carrying an attaché case and an expensive looking camera.

  “I borrowed this from one of the teachers,” she said. “He showed me how to use it. I thought I’d pretend to take pictures for this imaginary article we’re writing.”

  “Good idea. I use John Fisher when I’m playing reporter. Have you made up a convincing handle like Cynthia Scoop or Fiona Factfinder?”

  “How about Liz Hunt?”

  “Perfect. Now where’s this hideout?”

  She pointed to an innocuous row of offices on Berry Street. “The second one.”

  “Looks harmless.”

  Kary’s face was serious. “We’ll see.”

  The only thing that distinguished the Baby Love office from the other offices was a sign on the door that read: “Baby Love, a Mothers United Organization Dedicated to Creating Future Families.”

  “Follow my lead,” Kary said as I opened the door for her.

  The office was just as plain and unremarkable inside. There was a small table with stacks of brochures and a faded plastic flower arrangement, a bulletin board filled with birth announcements, pictures of babies, and church events. A young woman was seated at a large metal desk. She looked up from her computer. “May I help you?”

  “Good afternoon,” Kary said. “My name is Liz Hunt, and this is my associate, John Fisher. We’re from the Parkland Herald, and we’d like to do a story on Baby Love. Would that be possible today?”

  “I’m sure I could answer any questions you have,” she said.

  “And do you mind if we take a few pictures?”

  “There’s not a lot to photograph in here, but go ahead.”

  While Kary quizzed the woman about Baby Love’s practices, I read the bulletin board. Everything looked completely legal. Happy thank you letters to Baby Love for fulfilling baby dreams. Photos of fat, healthy babies in the arms of their new beaming parents. A list of satisfied customers with addresses and phone numbers. I copied a few of these into my notebook, and tuned back into the conversation to hear Kary ask about age limits for prospective parents.

  “We like for our parents to be at least no younger than twenty-one and no older than sixty, but we have made exceptions,” the woman answered. “As long as someone is in good health and can support a child and give it a loving home, then age is no barrier.”

  I couldn’t help but think of Viola and all those death-defying products on her dresser. Age was a barrier for her theater career. She fought it as hard as she could. But why would someone kill her? Was there another actress out there seething with rage because Viola got all the mother and teacher roles? Jealousy over glamorous lead roles I could understand. Or maybe Viola had some dirt on someone and was killed to keep her from talking. But since as far as I could tell, Viola’s world consisted of the theater and her pets. I was having a hard time finding a motive.

  I brought my attention back to Kary, who had now moved into the dangerous territory of single parent adoption. From her intense look, she was about to sign up and start looking through the catalog.

  “Ms. Hunt,” I said. “We have another appointment at four thirty.”

  She gave a little start as if she’d realized why she was there. “Thank you. Let me get a picture or two and we’ll go.”

  The woman posed for a photo, and Kary took several shots from different angles. I wrote down the woman’s name, thanked her for her time, and escorted Kary out.

  “Whew,” she said as we walked back to our cars. “I was almost sucked in. Did you find out anything?”

  “Two things. One, there’s a list of people on the bulletin board with names, addresses, and phone numbers prominently displayed. I took down a few for you to follow up on. And two, the woman didn’t ask for our ID. That’s something you might want to consider.”

  She unlocked her car and put the camera on the passenger’s seat. “I don’t know, David. Everything looks legit. Maybe I overreacted.”

  “You’ve still got some info if you want to pursue this. You were very convincing, by the way.”

  She was still pensive. “Thanks.”

  Was this the time to confront the elephant? Could I bring up Beth without having Kary dissolve into tears? Could we discuss our lost daughters, find some kind of comfort in our mutual grief? Something told me to hold back. Standing beside our cars on a hot sidewalk wasn’t the place, and Kary was ready to go.

  “I’d better return the camera. See you at home.”

  She got into Turbo and cranked the little car into life. I watched until the Festiva turned the corner and was gone. There had to be some way around this problem, or we would always be stuck in the elephant’s graveyard, eyes shut tight so we couldn’t see the bones.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “What could’ve depressed her?”

  Rufus had decided it was his turn to cook dinner, so he’d fired up the grill in the backyard and was roasting huge slabs of hamburger while Angie was in the kitchen, filling a bowl with potato salad. She called out a cheerful hello.

 
“We’ll be ready to eat here directly.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Where’s Camden?”

  “Doing laundry.”

  Camden was down the hallway behind the stairs taking towels out of the washing machine.

  “Why are you doing that the old fashioned way?” I said. “Levitate them into the dryer.”

  “So far, nothing has gone flying today. Anything new on Viola?”

  “No, but I visited BeautiQueen and found out George came this close to charges of sexual harassment, checked out his house and found his many weird makeup ideas and rejection letters from cosmetic companies, talked to a lovely woman named Amelia Tilley, who looks up to Folly as an example of a successful businesswoman, was ambushed by Ellin in the Drug Palace and hired to find out what’s wrong with you, and I investigated Baby Love with Kary in disguise as reporters for the Herald.”

  He’d been tossing towels into the dryer. He paused. “Ellie’s hired you to find out what’s wrong with me?”

  “Paid me real money.”

  “That could take years.”

  “She seemed a bit insistent.”

  He threw the last towel in and shut the dryer door. “Well, if I knew what was wrong, I could save everybody a lot of trouble. Did you and Kary find out anything about Baby Love?”

  “I know she wants to uncover some big scam, but I think they’re okay.”

  We were going to eat outside, but a stray shower came by as Rufus finished cooking the last hamburger. He came in with a mountain of meat on a platter and set it on the counter. “Well, there’s my supper. I don’t know what ya’ll are gonna eat.”

  This was an old joke and easily ignored. We wrangled the large burgers onto buns and sat down at the dining room table. Angie passed the bowl of potato salad, and Kary poured iced tea for everyone. There was cheese, of course, ketchup, mustard, and mayo, as well as a jar of pickles Angie’s sister had sent over.

  “Thought we needed something other than funeral food,” Rufus said.

  Camden managed to get a two handed grip on his burger. “Thanks, Rufus.”

  “Still some cakes left and one or two casseroles.” He took a huge bite, chewed and swallowed in one gulp. “What’s going on I should know about?”

  Kary had decided to cut her huge hamburger into three smaller pieces. “Looks like I need a new crusade. Baby Love isn’t the evil corporation I’d hoped it was.”

  “Did you look up those parents?” I asked.

  “Yes, and every one checks out. The company’s not scamming anyone.”

  Rufus took another bite. “Something else will come up. Randall here attracts trouble like a donkey attracts flies. What you got, two dead people now?”

  “Yep. Do you know George McMillan or Viola Mitchell?”

  “Can’t say that I do.”

  “George worked with Folly Harper at BeautiQueen cosmetics and, according to her, would not have killed himself. Viola was the grand dame of the community theater, and someone poisoned her and buried her in the basement. So a possible murder and a definite murder.”

  Rufus wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sounds like business as usual around here. Who wants another burger?”

  Kary thanked him and said she had plenty. Camden said it was taking more time than he had to finish his first one. “Kary and I have to get to rehearsal. I might have another for a late night snack.”

  “If Millicent Crotty is there tonight, find an excuse to hold her hand and see if you get any useful vibes,” I told him.

  ***

  After cleaning up the kitchen, Rufus took Angie out for a ride around the neighborhood to scope out any possible houses. I had emails to sort through and phone calls to make, and thought I’d have a peaceful evening working in my office. It was peaceful until I had an unexpected visitor.

  “Hello? Cam? Anyone home?”

  “Just me,” I called.

  Ellin came to my door. “Where is everybody?”

  “Rufus and Angie are looking at houses, and Kary and Camden had a final dress rehearsal tonight. There’s a preview performance tomorrow.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I’ve been so busy with wedding details I forgot the show is this weekend.” She came in and stood behind the chair I have for clients, gripping the back as if to prepare for bad news. “Do you have any answers for me?”

  “I think once the show’s over Camden will be able to concentrate better on wedding plans.”

  “He doesn’t have to plan anything.”

  “He’ll be there, I promise.”

  She deflated a little and sat down. “My sisters are driving me crazy. If Cam doesn’t show up, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “Ellin, he’ll be there.”

  “What’s happening with his psychic ability? He said he never knew what it was going to do next. Is he having trouble controlling it? Is that the problem?”

  “He’s dealing with a few glitches, but he’ll take care of it.”

  “What kind of glitches?”

  “The kind you would love to exploit on TV.”

  That brought the fire back in her eyes. “You think that’s all I care about, don’t you?”

  “Let me think about that. Yes.”

  “Well, you’re wrong. I want to marry Cam and live happily ever after, or at least, as happily as we can, whether he has psychic powers or not.”

  While this was good to hear, I wasn’t sure I believed it. “You’ll work it out.”

  “What sort of insane cases do you have going now, and how deeply is Cam involved?”

  Ellin’s focus is all on the PSN, so she usually isn’t around for our family gatherings. “I’d better get you caught up. Folly Harper wanted Camden to see some lucky numbers for her, which he did. We’re still not sure what those numbers are for, but the bigger problem is the apparent suicide of her coworker, George McMillan. He ran off with company funds, intending to sell company secrets, but he felt guilty and killed himself, or at least, that’s what it looks like. She’s hired me to investigate. My one link to George is his cousin Lucy, who oddly enough has moved into Viola Mitchell’s house.”

  “Viola Mitchell from the theater? Cam told me he found her body in the basement.” She sat back in the chair. “That has to be why he’s acting so strangely.”

  “He’s also hired me to find her killer. And I’m trying to get Charlie Valentine and Taffinia O’Brien together and help Kary prove Baby Love is a legal operation. So to answer your question, I have four insane cases going, and Camden’s involved in two of them. Once you’re married and move in, you can be involved, too.”

  “No, thank you,” she said. “I have enough trouble keeping Cam from going over the edge every time he sees death and destruction.”

  Ellin had no psychic powers of her own, but she can erase Camden’s worst visions by holding his hand. “See? You’re made for each other.”

  She had definitely mixed feelings about this talent. “Because my mind is so blank.” She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “It really is blank today with all the wedding plans and Reg’s screwy ideas for PSN programs and my sisters and my mother—” She paused. “Why am I talking to you?”

  “Because I have on my listening face.”

  She must have been tired because she gave a slight laugh. “It’s very convincing.”

  “You’re my client, remember?”

  “And you’d better have some results for me soon.” Abruptly, she changed the subject. “I couldn’t leave the network to go to Fred’s funeral. How was it?”

  “I was in Florida, tracking down George. Kary said it was a service Fred would’ve liked.”

  “Cam hasn’t said anything about the funeral to me. I know that’s part of why he’s upset. I never understood why he took Fred in. Kary he met through a mutual friend, but he practically picked F
red up off the street. I’m surprised the house isn’t filled with more homeless men.”

  I raised my hand. “I qualify.”

  “And you can have this house all to yourself because I don’t intend to live here.”

  That would be fine with me, but I had to remind her 302 Grace Street might be the deal breaker. “Camden’s not going to live anywhere else.”

  She gave me a look that made Kary’s Teacher Look seem like heartfelt gaze from a puppy. “We’ll see about that.”

  ***

  Ellin had matters to deal with at the PSN, so she wasn’t there when Camden and Kary came home from the My Fair Lady dress rehearsal around eleven. Kary went on to bed, but Camden wanted another piece of giant hamburger. We heated one up in the microwave, divided it into two he-man chunks, and took our feast to the island.

  Camden sat cross-legged on the sofa and unwrapped a slice of cheese for his burger. “I didn’t get a chance to hold Millicent’s hand tonight, but I got some very odd vibes concerning her face and her hands.”

  I kicked off my shoes and made myself comfortable in the blue arm chair. “Age related? Arthritis, maybe?”

  “I asked her if she was feeling all right, and she assured me absolutely nothing was wrong and how dare I ask. Things got even stranger when the black and white pattern joined in.”

  I can usually make sense of Camden’s visions, but this black and white thing had me stumped. I shrugged and took a bite of burger. “How old is Millicent? Maybe she was born before color was discovered.”

  “Late seventies, I believe.”

  “I could use some more ketchup. Would you levitate the bottle around the corner for me?”

  “It’s in the fridge.”

  “Bring the fridge around, then.”

  Camden put his burger on the coffee table and picked up his plastic cup full of Coke. “Everything stayed put at the theater tonight, thank goodness. During the Ascot race scene, a piece of the set fell over, and I thought I’d caused it, but the flat hadn’t been properly anchored.”