Hush-Hush

by Elizabeth Spann Craig

  “Sunny? He had dealings with her?” This seemed very unlikely to me, at least from a personal standpoint.

  Tara said quickly, “Oh, no, they weren’t involved or anything. Can you imagine that? Those two would be hard to picture together.”

  “Well, I guess there are some odd-couples out there,” I said.

  “True. But not the two of them. No, they were both in the shop getting coffee recently and Sunny remembered Frank did work at the library. She asked if he also did ‘for-hire’ work for individuals. Frank told her he was an independent contractor and could work for anyone. Sunny asked him if he might be available to help with their home network. For her and Ted.” Tara shrugged. “The only reason I thought the conversation was remarkable was that he didn’t interrupt Sunny a single time. I’ve always thought he acted kind of dismissive around women. Still, I’m sorry to hear he’s gone.”

  I took a sip of my coffee and said, “Hopefully the police will get to the bottom of it all soon.”

  “I hope so.” The bell on the shop door rang and Tara smiled at me. “That’s my cue. Better run. Hope you have a good day.”

  I glanced at the door to see who’d made it in and my heart skipped a beat as I saw a tired-looking Grayson walk in. He spotted me at once and gave a quick wave before ordering his coffee. Tara, apparently seeing something in my expression when Grayson entered the shop, gave me a wink.

  He walked up to me a few minutes later with a large coffee. His hair and clothes were rumpled as if he’d slept in them and there were dark circles under his eyes. He hesitated before asking, “Are you waiting for somebody or can I join you?”

  I gestured to the chair across from me and said, “Have a seat.”

  Grayson settled down and immediately took a long sip from the coffee. He grimaced at me and then gave me a rueful smile.

  “Long night?” I asked. It was unusual seeing Grayson in such disarray. Ordinarily he was well put-together: more so than me, actually. Even when we went on hikes, he looked like someone modeling in an outdoor catalog.

  “Unfortunately, it was. You might have heard by now—there was another murder here locally.”

  I said, “Oh, you were the newspaper reporter Burton was talking about. You were covering Frank Morrison’s murder.”

  He nodded and gave a dry chuckle. “Sometimes I wonder if this town even really needs a newspaper. It seems to me that news travels pretty fast around here.” He took another few gulps of his coffee, which must have burned his throat, considering how much steam was still coming off of it. He winced. “Just trying to wake up.”

  He was rapidly depleting the large coffee. After a few more gulps of the steaming coffee, he frowned and said, “Wait. I’m slow on the uptake today. You heard about Frank Morrison’s death from Burton and not from local gossip?”

  I nodded. “Frank did contract tech work for the library. Burton was just trying to get a picture of what Frank was like, I think.”

  Grayson said, “This is off the record, of course, but I’m a little curious what he was like, myself. It seemed like no one reported him missing, but I got the impression from Burton that he probably hadn’t died right before the fisherman found him this morning. It sort of begs the question: what was he doing out there? Why was he at the lake in the dark?”

  “I don’t have a ton of insight to add on anything to do with Frank, unfortunately.” Despite being off the record, I didn’t feel totally comfortable sharing what I’d heard about Frank’s treatment of his wife. It was one thing telling Burton and Wilson and something very different telling the editor of the local newspaper, as attractive as I might find him. “What I know about him was from work. He was capable at his job and always got our desktops or printers or copiers back in working order. He was pretty nerdy in terms of what his hobbies were, I think.”

  Grayson said, “So Frank probably wasn’t out at the lake getting exercise or something, then.”

  It was almost exactly what Burton had asked me. I shrugged. “I guess he could have been. Maybe he was trying to improve his health or something. But it seems like an odd time to be doing it. I don’t think he was a fitness nut or anything.”

  “Speaking of fitness, I’m looking forward to our hike,” said Grayson with a quick segue. We firmed up our plans for taking it and what food we’d bring for the picnic. Then he added, “It must be nice to catch up with old friends around town.”

  I smiled. “Everyone is always telling me I need to get out of the library more and I’m starting to finally take their words to heart.” It was too early for me to talk about Connor, especially since I wasn’t completely sure myself what sort of relationship we were embarking on.

  “What was high school like here in Whitby?” he asked.

  I considered this. “Well, I guess it’s different for everyone, but I really had a good time. We all knew each other by that point. I liked my teachers and had a few great English teachers who influenced me in and outside the classroom—recommended books for me to read and that kind of thing. I had a small group of friends and we did a lot together . . . mostly outdoor stuff, which is why I know as much about the hiking trails here as I do.”

  “And you dated Connor back then, you said.”

  Connor again. “That’s right. Mostly, again, it was just hanging out at the lake and going out on trails since neither of us had any money to do much else. We’d eat fast food if we ate out at all. There were even fewer food options at the time than there are now, as hard as that might be to believe. Sometimes we’d grab our own food from home and hang out at the park with our friends.” I shrugged. “Typical high school stuff, I guess. Minus the school sports. Our teams weren’t that hot.”

  Grayson looked wistful. “It sounds like fun, though. I wish I’d been in Whitby then.”

  “You didn’t enjoy high school as much?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. My family moved around a lot so I was always the new kid every time. I was in three different high schools.”

  I winced. “Those aren’t great years to be moving. I’d think it would be tough to adjust when you don’t even really have a handle on your own sense of self yet.”

  “Plus, I was super-quiet at the time and spent most of my time doing nerdy things, sort of like we were saying Frank did.” He gave a rueful smile.

  “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with nerdy pursuits,” I said quickly. “I’m kind of an expert in those, myself.”

  “Anyway, it would have been great to have grown up here. I’ve really enjoyed living in Whitby so far.”

  I said as casually as I could, “Do you have long-term plans for staying here? Or is this sort of a layover-type job? I know, from a journalism standpoint, that sometimes being willing to move can open more opportunities.”

  Grayson laughed and I felt that happy heart-bounce that I always did when he laughed. “I’m planning on staying put. After spending the first half of my life moving around practically every year, the idea of putting down roots in a place is really appealing. I mean, you’re right—if I were more ambitious, I should be open to getting calls about editor openings from other, bigger newspapers. But I just can’t seem to get interested in doing that.” He paused. “But here I am, still the new guy in town.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not like you’re not out and about in town all the time. Being on the newspaper has got to mean that you’re meeting people every day.”

  Grayson said, “That’s true, but I’m not really getting acquainted with them and it’s always on more of a professional level. I don’t feel like I’m putting myself out there and making friends.” He mulled this for a moment or two. “Maybe I need to get involved in some different things. Maybe I should be on the HOA board after all, as a way to get to know people.”

  “I don’t think you’re that desperate.”

  He grinned at me. “Maybe not.” He paused and said offhandedly, “I probably just need to try to develop the friendships I already have. Would you like to grab supper sometime? I
mean, just after work or something. You mentioned you were trying to get out more, too.”

  I felt a flush rise up from my neck and mentally scolded myself. The guy was trying to make real friends. As pretty much the only staff for the local paper, he was working all the time. It didn’t really mean anything. I said as breezily as I could manage, “Sure, Grayson. That would be great.”

  He smiled. “Awesome.”

  I glanced at my watch. “I guess I should be heading out. You’ve inspired me to do better with my exercise and I told myself I was going to go to the park after this. Are you going to try to get some sleep?”

  He snorted. “Not after that huge cup of coffee.” He looked at me, considering. “Would you mind company? For the exercise, I mean. I could meet you over at the park. It looks like it’s going to rain later, so it would be better for me to exercise this morning.”

  My heart skipped. “Sure, we’ll meet up at the park so we can change first.” I glanced at my watch. “Maybe in forty-five minutes?”

  “See you then.”

  Forty-five minutes later I drove into a parking spot at the park. The weather might be going downhill that afternoon, but it was perfect for now. There was a light breeze as I stepped out of the car and a few clouds kept the sun from being too unbearable. The park was one of my favorite places to go. There were wide trails through the trees that connected to the greenway we had around town. There was a big pond—or maybe a small lake—in the center of the park and several people walking their dogs and pushing babies in strollers while getting views of the mountains in the background.

  Grayson drove up and hopped out of the car. He was wearing some serious-looking athletic clothes and I glanced down at my own baggy tee shirt and old shorts.

  “You look like you’re ready to run,” I said in a slightly accusatory voice.

  Grayson looked abashed. “We weren’t going to run?”

  I said with a smile, “I’ll either need to jog slowly or do a really fast walk.”

  “That’s all I’m really up for anyway. After all, I didn’t get any sleep last night. I just put this stuff on out of habit.”

  “At least you have an exercise habit. I’m also going to need to stretch for a few minutes,” I said ruefully.

  We were stretching when I noticed a familiar couple walking toward us down the trail. Ted noticed me at exactly the same time and I immediately got the impression he wanted to avoid me. After all, he had to know I suspected his involvement with Ellie wasn’t solely due to Spanish lessons. Sunny, on the other hand, gave me a quick wave and came right on over, professional as always.

  I remembered Grayson saying how he still felt like the new kid in Whitby, and he didn’t seem to know either of the Griffiths. I quickly introduced them. Ted, still acting eager to avoid me, delved into conversation with Grayson, asking how the small, local newspaper was doing financially.

  Sunny said in a friendly voice, “You were serious about getting more exercise! You know, we did get some really cute athletic clothes in at Nearly New recently. You should come by and take a look.”

  I glanced down again at my clothes. “That might not be a bad idea. These are fine for exercising, but I was just looking at what Grayson had on and realized I might end up really hot if we go for a run. I need to get something more breathable. For some reason, despite the small amount of fabric, athletic clothing is ridiculously expensive.”

  Sunny said in a much more solemn tone, “On a completely different matter, I hear violent death has impacted the library again. Is that true?” She pursed her lips.

  Fortunately, Ted joined us again right then. This was good because I wasn’t really sure how to answer that question. Was it an indictment of the library’s hiring practices?

  Ted said, “Violent death hasn’t impacted the library directly, dear.”

  I could sense an underlying current of tension between Ted and Sunny, but it looked to me as if they were definitely trying to make things work. If Sunny did know about Ted’s affair with Ellie, it sure seemed to me as if she was trying to move forward and past it. They were exercising together. They were attending funerals together. At any rate, it looked like they were both putting some effort into their marriage.

  Grayson was looking interested, probably from a professional aspect, at the mention of Frank’s death.

  I said, “You’re talking about Frank Morrison. He did a good deal of technology and electronics work for us at the library whenever something went wrong.”

  “Do a lot of things go wrong?” asked Sunny with a frown.

  “Well, he was over at the library every couple of weeks if not more,” I said with a small laugh. “A lot of the time it was the copier he was working on. You know, when you have the public trying to figure out a copier, you get mixed results. And, sometimes, a broken copier. But he also worked on our printer, the desktops, and other things for us.” I paused. “He also did contract work for individuals, I believe. Didn’t he do some work at your house?”

  I waited to see if either one of them would take the bait. Tara had sounded pretty positive that Frank had helped Sunny and Ted with their network.

  Ted interjected, “Sure, he did, remember, Sunny? He helped us with some network problems we were having. Our laptops weren’t talking to our printer and we’d have to plug them in to the printer and print manually. He helped us with some other stuff, too.”

  Sunny’s expression looked a bit cold. Although, it was hard to really tell since she frequently had a fairly static expression on her face that I suspected might be owed to Botox injections. “I don’t remember discussing Frank’s work with you, Ann.” There was a slight chill in her voice.

  Grayson raised his eyebrows and looked even more interested.

  I quickly said, “Oh, I think it’s something Frank mentioned when I was speaking with him one time.”

  “It seems an odd thing for him to mention,” said Sunny.

  I shrugged. “He probably knew of your connection with the library and figured I’d know you.”

  Sunny said, “Did you hear much about what happened to Frank? We’ve only heard the basics.”

  I gestured over to Grayson. “He’s probably the guy to ask. He was on the scene, reporting. And didn’t get much sleep.”

  “We’ll have a full story in the paper tomorrow,” said Grayson. “But the gist of it is that a fisherman discovered Frank’s body in the lake early this morning. They’re investigating it, but it seems it was murder.”

  Sunny sighed.

  “I guess you must have gotten to know Frank pretty well? With him working in your home, I mean,” said Grayson.

  Sunny quickly said, “I don’t think we’d say we knew him well.” She looked at her husband. “Still, dear, you thought he had something of a temper, didn’t you?”

  “Did I?” asked Ted, looking surprised.

  “Don’t you remember? You said something about him getting upset when he was working on our network.”

  Ted said, “Oh, that. Well, that was nothing. Computers are very annoying things, aren’t they? Something wasn’t working correctly, and he was letting a little off-color language fly before I walked into the room. He stopped as soon as I’d come in. I’d probably have done the same.”

  Grayson said to Sunny, “So you’re thinking maybe Frank had a temper and made somebody angry? Got on someone’s bad side?”

  Sunny shrugged. “I don’t know what I think. I’m just trying to work it out so it all makes sense in my head. At any rate, Ann, these are two deaths connected, however tenuously, to the library. I know sometimes you work late shifts, don’t you?”

  “Frequently, yes. I work one tomorrow night.”

  Sunny said, “I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. Maybe you should wear a whistle or carry some pepper spray? Or maybe use one of those apps when you walk to your car—you know, the kinds that if you take your finger off your phone, they automatically call the police for you.”

  She was
n’t wrong, but somehow in my gut I didn’t really think someone was just randomly attacking library employees and contract workers. But I said, “That’s a good idea, Sunny. Thank you.”

  “Well, we should let you go exercise now,” said Sunny, and Ted looked relieved. “Good to see you, Ann, and good to meet you, Grayson.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  We started a fast walk on the trail leading around the small lake and Grayson said, “You know, I wouldn’t have put those two together as a couple.”

  “They make a nice-looking couple,” I said mildly.

  “They do. It’s just that their personalities don’t seem to mesh that well. Sunny seems very reserved and a little icy. Ted is warmer and a bit more outgoing. At least, that’s how they appear, anyway.”

  I said, “Well, people say opposites attract.” I would have liked to have talked with Grayson more about the complexities of Ted and Sunny’s marriage and Ellie’s involvement with it, but hesitated because of Grayson’s job. Not that I thought Grayson would print pure gossip in the newspaper . . . that would basically amount to slander.

  Grayson glanced over at me perceptively. “There’s something more there, isn’t there?” He paused. “I know it could be hard to share information with me because of my working on the paper, but I promise anything you tell me is totally off the record and wouldn’t go any further.”

  I hesitated another few moments and said slowly, “Honestly, I’d like these murders solved. Maybe if you’re thinking over these bits and pieces and Burton is thinking them over and I’m thinking them over, we might get somewhere faster. But Grayson, I’m not sure there’s anything really here that will help get to the bottom of it all.”

  I filled him in on what little I knew about Ted and Ellie’s relationship—how he’d claimed he was giving her Spanish lessons but how their involvement seemed a lot more than simply educational. I talked about Ellie’s and Sunny’s awkward run-ins in the library and I wondered if perhaps Ellie had tried to put pressure on Sunny to end her marriage.