“Go on,” Lulu urged.
“I found it hard to keep on pretending to be you, Hermiony. It was in the little things that would show up, but still Robert never suspected. After our son Vitale was born, I decided to quit the act. It was too much, taking care of a baby and trying to be my feisty twin sister.”
“Didn’t he suspect?” Delight asked.
“Not at first. He put it down to changes after the baby was born, but then he got a letter––I don’t know from whom; he wouldn’t show it to me. Whoever this person was, I suspect he or she was part of the family he’d never told me about. I kept asking about his family but he told me the memories were too painful to talk about so I respected that. Anyway, this letter had news of Hermiony and Ferdinand and so Robert realized he was married to the wrong sister.”
“Well, yah,” Granny sarcastically remarked, “You would have thought he’d have figured that out sooner; you were never a very good actress, Amelia, when it came to pretending to be me.”
Amelia ignored the outburst and continued, “He said I was an unfit mother because I’d lied and sometime during that night, he left with my son. I never saw them again. I had no money so I couldn’t hire an investigator and the police at that time said there was nothing they could do because Robert was Vitale’s father.”
“So how did you get to be the owner of your renowned chocolate company?” Mavis interrupted Amelia’s story.
“I had no money and the only thing I knew how to do was to make chocolate candy. A neighbor felt sorry for me and loaned me a little money to open a small shop. One day, a man named Victor Beddington was traveling through our town and stopped in and tasted my chocolates. He liked them so much he bought 100 boxes of chocolates and took them back to New York. One day, he called and wanted to help me expand; he said his friends loved my chocolates. So, I moved to New York and he helped me start my company. We fell in love and got married. He died a few years ago. I never took his name in case my son ever came looking for me.”
Granny was fingering something in her hand that she’d taken out of her pocket as Amelia was talking. “Did this Victor Beddington ever try and find Vitale?”
“Yes,” Amelia nodded. “He hired the best private investigators, but they turned up no leads. After he died, I hired a new investigator. He was the one who came here, God rest his soul. He traced a lead back here to Fuchsia, but before he could tell me what he’d found, he was murdered.”
Granny stared at the objects in her hand. She reached over and took Amelia’s hand, opened it and transferred the objects to Amelia’s open hand.
Amelia looked at what her sister had put in her hand and tears began to roll down her cheeks. “These are Vitale’s. This is his baby ring and a necklace I bought for him when he was born. Where did you get these?”
“The ring was found at the farm and the necklace was stuck in my door. I think Baskerville brought it home from the farm. I wasn’t sure until now that they belonged to your son.”
Mavis got up and danced around the table. “She’s got the whole world in her hands! She’s got the whole wide world in her hands!”
Ditty Belle and Lulu joined in. Soon Pastor Henrietta danced to the back room of the quilt shop and came back, dancing with a pink pitchfork as her partner.
Amelia, still fighting the tears, hugged Hermiony. “These items are my world.”
Hermiony hesitated and then scooped Amelia up in a big hug, lifting her to her feet.
“We’ve got work to do,” Granny announced.
Mavis presented Granny with the Pink Pitchfork. “Since the police won’t you give you back our last gift to you because they claim its evidence, we bought you a new one. After all, who’s going to protect us when we find the murderer and Amelia’s son?”
“We need a plan. The watchdogs will be back soon,” Amelia warned.
“A plan, no man, a scam, that’s our plan,” Granny rhymed.
“What?” the women asked, confused by the rhyme.
Amelia translated, “Granny will come up with a plan. It won’t involve the men, and we might have to come up with a scam in order to execute her plan.”
Wrinkling her brow, trying to understand Granny and Amelia, Pastor Henrietta asked, “How does she know we need a scam if she doesn’t know her plan?”
“You got it, Pastor Henrietta, now we’d better head over to the Pink Percolator to find the men before they become suspicious,” Amelia suggested.
“Meet in the cemetery tomorrow night at midnight,” said Granny to the group in a whisper.
“Uh, Granny,” Delight’s voice quivered, “Didn’t we already have enough cemetery fun last winter?”
“Why, yes, we did Delight; wasn’t it fun?” Granny led the way out of Lulu’s.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Weren’t we supposed to call Franklin, Silas and George when we were ready to leave instead of meeting them?” Delight inquired, turning to watch Lulu lock the door.
Pastor Henrietta and Mavis turned toward the door and answered Delight at the same time, “Yes, yes, we were.”
Granny, stepping off the curb and crossing the street, yelled back, “It’s only a few blocks to the Pink Percolator! What do you think is going to happen to us in a few blocks?”
The roar of an engine could be heard around the corner. Granny looked up to see a red ‘57 Chevy Corvette convertible turning the corner and bearing down on her. Before she could move, the shysters and cohorts galloped out of the alley across the street, attacked Granny, knocking her out of the way of the car and onto the sidewalk. Mrs. Bleaty managed to get her body positioned just right so as to break Granny’s fall so she wouldn’t hit her head. The car sped away and disappeared.
The women turned around when they heard the commotion and Granny’s thump on the sidewalk. They rushed to Granny’s side.
“Who am I? Who am I?” Mavis asked Granny, waving a finger in front of Granny’s nose.
“How many fingers is Mavis holding up?” Delight asked.
Lulu pulled out a needle from her bag and pricked Granny’s ankle right above her foot. “Can you feel that?”
Pastor Henrietta knelt down next to Granny and began praying The Twenty-Third Psalm.
Little White Poodle licked Granny’s face, Baskerville howled, Furball sat on Granny’s chest and purred, Fish pawed Granny’s hands, and Tank nuzzled Granny’s hair. Mrs. Bleaty who was still sitting underneath Granny’s head, rose up and moved Granny into a seated position. “You’re a wacky lady!” Granny said, looking at Mavis, “Twenty fingers; don’t needle me again, and the person who ran me down is going to need that prayer when I catch up with them.”
The women helped Granny to her feet. “Do you know who it was? We were looking the other way? We’d better call Thor and the Tall Guy,” Pastor Henrietta suggested.
“It was her! It was her!” cried Granny, “She’s back! Gram Gramstead or that evil woman who pretended to be Gram Gramstead is back and she’s out to get me. You didn’t see that red hair? And she’s stolen my car again!”
“We better take her to the ER; she’s imagining things,” Lulu suggested.
“I’m not imagining things!” Granny yelled at the women before taking off, but the shysters and the cohorts formed a wall in front of her so she couldn’t continue on down the sidewalk.
“Where are you going?” Delight asked.
Granny looked at the shysters and cohorts blocking her path and turned around.
“I’m going to find my car and then I’m going to find that woman and put her away for life. Lulu, open up that door; I forgot my new pitchfork. I’m gonna need it.” Granny went back to stand in front of the door to the quilt shop, waiting for Lulu to open the door while petting her furry friends. “These guys saved me. They know it’s Gram. They have a sixth sense about her.”
The women shuffled back into the quilt shop and sat down again at the table they’d just left. Granny sat down too, but not before picking up her pitchfork, tapping it lig
htly on the floor.”
Delight giggled; Granny frowned. “You think there’s something funny about this, Delight? You didn’t think things were this funny when we were locked in the mausoleum last winter.”
“Well, no.” Delight tried to hold back her giggles.”
Mavis coughed and then giggled. Granny skewered Mavis with her eyes. Then Lulu began to giggle too. Soon Pastor Henrietta let out a loud laugh. “You looked like a gigantic fur coat of many colors lying on the ground with a tiny little goat tail for an earring and a muff for your hands with Mrs. Bleaty under your head and Furball sitting on your chest.”
Soon, even Granny was tearing up from laughing so hard. When Silas, Franklin, and George walked in, the women didn’t even notice them because they were so involved in making up jokes about Granny’s predicament.
“What did we miss?” Franklin asked.
George looked at Mavis. “Mavis, are you telling funny jokes again?”
Granny gave all of the women a stern look.
Pastor Henrietta seeing Granny’s look, answered, “We were just discussing the Twenty-Third Psalm and someone made the joke that it wouldn’t be easy for Granny to lie down in green pastures with all her furry ones; they might get in her way.” Henrietta gave Silas and Franklin a sweet smile.
“What kind of blathering are you doing now?” Silas accused. “What are you up to, Mrs. Persnickulous?”
“It’s late, after eight, time to get my car, and, no, it’s not a date. Time to get to bed, get my books read; tomorrow’s another day, so none of you get in my way,” Granny rhymed as she opened the door to step outside, taking her new pitchfork with her.
Silas shook his head at Franklin and followed Granny out the door. “I’ll take you to your car at Rack’s and follow you home.”
“I’m walking, thank you.” Granny ignored Silas’s car.
“Fine, walk. I’ll follow you in the car,” Silas said to Granny as he got in his car.
Granny peered both ways down the street before crossing it, making sure she didn’t miss another near hit from a red Chevy Corvette. She held her pitchfork in front of her just in case.
Silas followed at a slow pace, noticing that Granny was more vigilant than usual while walking past the Fuchsia businesses. She seemed to be checking out the stores and was especially leery of the alleyways before crossing them. The pink pitchfork also gave him a clue that possibly she was looking for someone to fork. He noticed when they arrived at Rack’s parking lot, that she gazed at her car for longer than usual before getting into the driver’s seat.
Once in her car, Granny looked it over to see if there was any evidence that anyone else had driven her car. She found it the minute she got in. The driver’s seat was pushed further back so Granny’s tiny feet couldn’t reach the pedals. She knew it! Someone had stolen her car and brought it back. Someone was tormenting her and the last person to do that had been Gram Gramstead, but Gram Gramstead was supposed to be in prison.
When Granny and Silas reached their neighborhood, Silas continued on to his driveway while Granny drove into her garage with her red ‘57 Corvette. Before leaving her car, Granny glanced at the hook on the wall by the side door of the garage. It was empty. Granny scurried out of her car and looked for the spare key for her car on the floor by the door. Had the key fallen down? She checked the other hooks to make sure she hadn’t accidently put her spare car keys on another hook. She was digging through the garbage can that was also by the door when the side door of her garage opened and Silas made his appearance.
“Something wrong?” He looked around the garage making sure no one else was there.
“If there was, would I tell you?” Granny snarked.
“I thought perhaps you were waiting for me so we could go up in the turret to gaze at the stars together when it got dark.” Silas eyes gleamed with mischief.
Granny pulled her fork out of her car and set the tines firmly on the ground. “I’m looking for something.”
“Something you forgot you didn’t know?”
Granny gave Silas a confused look.
“Or something that you knew you forgot because you forgot you knew it?”
Granny held her hands up in the air in exasperation, “What are you blabbering about, Mr. Supercilious?”
“Just trying to talk in a language you understand.” Silas laughed.
“I’m looking for a key,” Granny admitted grudgingly.
“A key?”
“The spare key to my car; it’s supposed to be right on that hook.” Granny pointed to the empty hook on the wall.
“When did you see it last?”
“When the garage was first built and Franklin brought my car back. I’ve never needed it.”
“And you need it now, why?” Silas inquired. “You just drove your car back home so you have a key.”
“Because Gram Gramstead just tried to run me down with my car so she must have stolen my spare key.” Granny’s voice rose to a high pitch.
Silas was quiet, too quiet. Granny looked at him suspiciously. “Do you know something about this you ornery old coot?”
“Not about this, no.”
“Then what?”
Silas took Granny’s arm and before she could protest, led her out of the garage. “We’re going to my house.”
Granny pulled her arm away from Silas. “It’s nine o’clock at night; the neighbors will talk. Look, my daughter’s outside picking some flowers.” Granny wrinkled her nose in thought, “It seems kind of funny with all this hoo-hah that my girls haven’t been over here trying to get me to stay out of trouble.”
Silas waved to Penelope. “We need to talk and we won’t be interrupted at my house.”
“Silas, I’m tired. I haven’t had much sleep. Remember, I was at a slumber party last night, the police station this afternoon and a quilting party tonight,” she said, not telling Silas that she wanted to get a couple hours of sleep before meeting the gals at the cemetery to formulate a plan to find Amelia’s son and catch Robert and his brother’s killer.
“This can’t wait. Remember I told you earlier I had something to show you.”
“Fine, I need to make a phone call to Franklin first.” Granny followed Silas to his house, glancing to see if Penelope was watching them. Penelope was gone, but Mavis and George were standing in their picture window and smiling. Mavis waved excitedly and pointed to Silas’s house making kissing gestures with her lips.
Granny shook her head at Mavis and pointed her pitchfork at Silas behind his back.
Once in the house, Silas poured Granny a glass of wine while Granny moved to the kitchen to make her phone call. “Delight, call the women. We have to postpone our rendezvous until tomorrow night at 12 sharp. Get some shuteye so we’ll be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for tomorrow night,” Granny whispered into the phone.
Silas called from the other room, “Tell Franklin to take good care of Amelia.”
“Who’s that?” Delight questioned, still listening on the other end of the phone.
“Ah, that’s Radish; I’m bird sitting for the night. Got to go, Delight; see you tomorrow. Be there or be square.” Granny cut the connection.
Silas handed Granny her glass of wine and indicated she should sit down.
“Why am I here, Silas?”
“The person who was masquerading as Gram Gramstead,” he began, but Granny stopped him, saying, “Yes, I know; that person is tormenting me again. She tried to kill me and I bet she killed Robert and his brother too. Maybe Dickey Lee Hatchet and Gram met in prison, broke out together, and she killed Dickey Lee, and Robert found them and then she poisoned him to make it look as if he’d had a heart attack.” Granny stood up and began to pace. “That’s it. We have to tell Thor. That’s who you’ve been protecting me from, Gram Gramstead! But why would she want to hurt Amelia? She doesn’t even know Amelia. That’s why Franklin is protecting Amelia, isn’t it?”
Granny’s phone rang right at the end of her tirade. Before Si
las could say anything, Granny answered. “Franklin, I’m so glad you called. I know why you’re protecting me. You should have told me but what I don’t understand is why you have to protect Amelia.”
Granny frowned as Franklin spoke, “Let me talk to Silas, now!”
Silas could hear Franklin’s voice through Granny’s phone. He took the phone from Granny’s hand. “Yes. No. Absolutely not; you know how she is. Right. Never. Exactly. Yes. Did she just call you a few minutes ago?” Silas listened for a second and handed the phone back to Granny.
“Franklin,” Granny wasn’t able to say anymore before Franklin interrupted her.
“Hermiony, I called because I set the date for our wedding. August 6. How does that sound to you?”
“I say it’s about time. August 6. Now, about why you’re protecting us.” Granny heard the line go dead.
“You weren’t calling Franklin when you first got here. Who didn’t you want me to know you were calling?”
Granny smiled sweetly at Silas. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about now? Oh, yes; let’s get back to our conversation about Gram Gramstead.”
Silas paused for a moment and decided to let Granny’s unknown phone conversation go. “She’s dead.”
Granny frowned. “Who’s dead?”
“The woman you know as Gram Gramstead is dead.”
“She just tried to run me down in my car; she can’t be dead. She must be pretending to be dead.”
“No, she’s dead all right. We all saw the body. Maybe your mind played tricks on you, a flashback, when you saw the car coming at you,” Silas suggested.
“It was Gram, I tell you, it was Gram!” Granny saw a flash of red out of the corner of her eye.
“Just call me red!” Humboldt Notorious entered the room with a mop of red hair on the top of his head.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Granny gave Humboldt Notorious a disbelieving look. “You tried to run me down with my car?”
Humboldt looked confused as he pulled the red wig off his head, “No, I found this in Silas’s bushes. Thought old Silas here lost it when he was cross dressing last night.” Humboldt threw the wig at Silas, laughing at Granny’s expression.
Granny Forks A Fugitive (Fuchsia Minnesota Book 4) Page 14
