by Gail Sattler
Her friend Sarah, the veterinarian, was single, as well as Tessa, who owned the consignment store. Either of them were good, smart women who could potentially be a good mate for Stan. On second thought, not Sarah. She didn’t know if she could remain friends with Sarah if Sarah hooked up with Stan.
Amber shook her head and looked up. She had to stop worrying about Stan’s love life and venture out to make sense of the next clue.
Stan waited for her to click on her seat belt before he put the truck into gear and drove off. “I was thinking about our hunt to find out who spells clandestine wrong. It’s such a strange word. When we ask people how to spell it, they’re going to know why. After all, it’s not a word found in everyday conversation.”
“I was thinking of that too. Maybe we could tell people that we’re starting to write a book together, and we’re looking for mystery-type words.”
“Do you think people are going to believe that?”
“Why not?” She turned to face him. “We certainly spend enough time together. Maybe we should write a book. Like you said, writers have to live somewhere, why not in Bloomfield?”
He snickered. “I can barely write out my grocery list. No one will believe that.”
“You’re probably right. My talents lie in making patterns and putting things together, not writing words. I probably couldn’t string a paragraph together that would make sense. It’s just that I’m getting desperate. I can’t see a pattern. Everything is so mixed up, nothing is consistent except that once a week, at different days every week, Gnorman gets moved.”
They pulled up to Sherry’s home.
As she walked down the sidewalk, Amber admired Sherry’s house. It was exactly the same kind of house she wanted when she could afford to buy a home of her own—a simple white, one-story frame building with a comfortable wrap-around porch. Naturally Sherry had baskets of hanging plants all around, filled with all impatiens, and fuchsias, pansies, and a number of pretty flowers she couldn’t identify.
Amber could grow hanging baskets. Too bad plants had to be planted in the ground before they could be considered a garden, according to the rules of the garden club. Amber could have had a whole garden’s worth of plants in hanging baskets, and then her membership wouldn’t be in jeopardy. Except for Gnorman missing with the trophy. But soon she and Stan would find it. She knew they would
They had to.
Amber knocked on the door and didn’t have to wait more than a few seconds before Sherry answered the door. She didn’t waste any time in leading them into the backyard where they found Gnorman dressed as a ninja.
Stan dragged his fingers through his hair. “This is wrong on so many levels. He’s a fat little old guy. He made a great Santa, but not this.”
“Never mind that,” Amber grumbled as she pulled the note out of Gnorman’s hand. Hopefully, it would be another good lead, as good as the lead they got from the Gnapper’s spelling mistake. If only they could figure out how to make that work to their advantage.
Both Stan and Sherry read the latest note over Amber’s shoulder.
He’s not Jackie Chan or even Bruce Lee
But gnorman will defend himself, as you can see.
He moves like the wind, and you will never know
The next garden where he is going to show.
Amber nearly groaned but held back showing her disappointment. At least in her face, she hoped. However, she couldn’t keep from voicing her frustration. “I can’t say this is going to be much help. Thanks for calling us, Sherry.”
Sherry rested one hand on Amber’s shoulder. “No problem.” She looked up at Stan, then back to Amber. “I heard you two had a nice time at the Fancy Schmantzy last weekend.”
Stan grinned so widely that Amber wanted to smack him. “Yeah. We did. Right, Amber?”
She wanted to say something to dissuade him from falling into what was surely going to hit the rumor mill as soon as they stepped off of Sherry’s property. While Sherry wasn’t a gossip, she was in the operating committee of the garden club, and they all loved to talk; and from there, word spread. But she couldn’t lie. She’d had a great time, even better because it had been so long since she’d been on a romantic date. “Yes, we did. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have to get going so we can try to figure out what this means.”
Stan didn’t need an invitation. When he pulled into her driveway, he got out of the car and followed her to the front door. He waited for her to unlock it and trailed her inside.
“I don’t know why you told Sherry that we were going to try to figure out what the new note means. As far as I can see, it doesn’t say anything specific and doesn’t give a clue to anything.”
“I just didn’t want her to ask questions. We avoided Winnie, I also wanted to avoid Sherry.”
“Sherry is nothing like Winnie.”
“No, but word still travels around the garden club.”
Stan crossed his arms over his chest. “So what if it does? I’m not ashamed to have taken you to a nice place on Friday night. In fact, I’d like to do the same thing next Friday.” He grinned and winked. “Anything to get you to wear that green dress again.”
Amber felt her mouth drop open. “What are you talking about?”
“You looked really great in that dress, and I’d like to see you wear it more often. So how about if I take you someplace else on Friday, somewhere nice, where you can wear that green dress?”
She didn’t want to start a habit, but she didn’t want to have spent so much money on the dress just to wear it only once. Besides, Stan had looked great in his suit, and with his new mustache adding a touch of mystery, she couldn’t say no.
“Sure.”
“On a totally nonrelated subject, I’ve been meaning to ask you, why haven’t you been taking your car to your store very much lately? If there’s something wrong, I can have a look.” Without asking, he turned and took a step toward the door leading to the carport.
Amber touched his forearm, stopping him in his tracks. “There’s nothing wrong with my car. Even if there was, I can’t have you fixing it for free all the time.”
“I don’t fix it for free. You insist on paying for the parts.”
“Me paying for the parts doesn’t earn you any income, and you know it. You always give me everything at cost, so you don’t make any money on the parts either.”
He raised one finger in the air. “You’re wrong. At the end of the year, I get two percent cash back on my purchases with my wholesaler, so I am making money on the parts.”
Like he could live on that. She didn’t want to tell him that she’d seen him deduct two percent off the price, and she didn’t know why. Now she did. That only made her feel worse because he didn’t get that amount back until the end of the year, meaning he worked at below cost until he got his money back. Now for sure she would never ask him to work on her car again. Not that she could afford for anyone else to fix it.
She stiffened and cleared her throat. “I figure it’s good exercise for me to walk. It’s not far.”
“Only if you don’t wear your black shoes. You’ll wear those shoes with your green dress on Friday night, won’t you?”
She didn’t know how the conversation went from the garden club to her favorite shoes, but such things weren’t unusual with Stan. Never a dull moment with him.
“Let’s get back to the topic, which is discovering who is moving Gnorman around, and finding the trophy. I have one week to get it back, or I’m going to get kicked out of the garden club.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’m not willing to take the risk. Let me boot up my computer.”
He followed her into the den, where they waited for her computer to open the member list for the garden club.
“What now?”
“I’
m going to start by crossing off the names of every place he’s been so far.”
“By process of elimination that’s going to leave seventy-two more people. I don’t think that’s going to help.”
She froze, with her hands over the keyboard. “Have you got a better idea?”
“You know I don’t.”
One at a time, Amber highlighted in yellow the names of people where Gnorman had been so far.
Again, her hands froze over her keyboard.
“Do you see what I’m seeing?”
“I think so. The names so far are the operating board of the garden club. You’ve got everyone who’s an elected member, and two out of three of the appointed positions.”
Even though she always scolded Stan for touching her monitor screen, Amber pressed her finger to the last unhighlighted name on the committee.
“Caroline,” they said in unison.
“That’s where he’s going to be next.” Amber forced herself not to jump up in the chair with glee. “We’re going to catch this person at Caroline’s.”
Stan pressed his hand onto her shoulder. “Not so fast. We can’t set up a surveillance camera like we did at my parents’ place. Caroline runs a bed and breakfast. What we did was bad enough at my parents’, but it would be a complete invasion of privacy at the B&B.”
She pressed her fingers to her temples, as if that would help her think. “There’s got to be a way.”
“Maybe we can pitch a tent in the backyard. Then we’ll catch him or her.”
“Don’t you think the rumor mill has enough fodder? Can you imagine what everyone will say if we do that?”
“Then we can set up a couple of lawn chairs in the back of her yard, and just sit there all night.” He leaned forward in his chair and his eyebrows rose, like he seriously thought it was a good and practical idea. “What do you think?”
“If we sit up all night, how are we going to get up for work in the morning? Besides, up until now, whoever is doing this is doing it in the middle of the day. I don’t know how no one sees someone carrying a gnome around. That isn’t exactly subtle.”
“Maybe it’s Winnie. Did you see that thing she was carrying that she calls a purse? I bet Gnorman could fit in there.”
“Winnie is around sixty years old. I’m not saying she’s fragile or frail, but Gnorman weighs a little too much to get away with something like that.”
“I could do that.”
“You’re about a foot taller than Winnie, and you lug around hunks of cars all day.”
“But I could still do it. The Gnapper could be a man, you know.”
“Yeah. A man who carries a big purse.” Automatically she crossed Winnie’s name off her list. “One more down,” she mumbled as she hit Save.
“If you cross your name and my name off, that’s two less.”
Amber turned to Stan. “I wonder if I should do that. You seem to be having a little too much fun with this. I’d also like to see you carrying a man-purse.”
His mouth opened, but he didn’t speak. She knew if he said he wasn’t having fun, that it would be a lie. In a way, she was having fun too. If it wasn’t so frustrating, and her membership with the garden club wasn’t at stake, and people weren’t starting to gossip about her and Stan.
Or, maybe the fun was dwindling.
Next week, when Gnorman was moved to Caroline’s, somehow they would figure it out.
But that was another day. Her next thing to worry about was her pending date with Stan. She probably should have told him no, but she couldn’t waste the dress.
At least that’s what she told herself.
“I’m going to go over this list and see if there’s anyone else I can cross off. Do you want to stay and help?”
She didn’t need him to say the answer, she knew he would.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Oh! Strike three! He’s out!” Stan hooted and raised one fist in the air while shoving more popcorn into his mouth with his other hand.
“Ball!” Hayden shouted at the television. “Ump, you’re blind!”
They watched while the coach yelled the exact same thing at the ump, who ignored everyone except the batter, looking even more angry than Hayden.
Hayden reached into the bowl and shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth as well while they sat and watched everyone argue. “This would be a better game if they had a decent umpire,” he grumbled through his mouthful.
Stan grinned. Despite the questionable call, he was enjoying himself.
He turned and looked at his best friend, who continued to shovel more popcorn into his mouth. Amber also yelled at the television, but she would eat the popcorn one kernel at a time, leaving more for him. Then she’d complain that he was a pig when they were down to the last handful, and go make more.
“Gonna make another bowl?” Stan asked, without turning his head from the game. “This one’s almost all gone.”
“Nope. It’s your house. You make more popcorn. I’m a guest.”
“Not a very grateful one.”
Hayden raised one buttery hand in the air. “Do not tell me what Amber would do, or that Amber would make you more popcorn.”
“She would.”
Hayden rolled his eyes. “You two are more married than most married people I know.”
Suddenly the formerly delicious popcorn turned to a lump of lead in Stan’s stomach. He no longer had the desire for more, so he leaned back into the couch and stared blankly at the television.
“Uh-oh,” Hayden muttered. “I think I hit a nerve. Trouble in paradise?”
“There is no paradise. Except for one date, nothing’s changed.”
“I heard it was a great date, though.”
Stan slumped forward, plunked his elbows on his knees, and leaned his face into his palms. “What did you hear, and who did you hear it from?”
“First Barry, then Andy, then Tucker, then my mother, then your mother.”
Stan was beyond words. He groaned into his hands.
“I heard you were holding hands and making goo-goo eyes at each other all night, and there’s been varying degrees of discussion on a good-night kiss at the door, and that it was about time.”
Goo-goo eyes. Stan pressed his face more into his hands and groaned again.
“I know you’re not the type to kiss and tell. So I won’t ask. But I’ll listen if you want to tell me.”
Suddenly Stan felt like punching his friend in the nose. He didn’t drop his hands, but he turned his head and glared at Hayden.
“Another raw nerve. I’m serious if you say you want to talk. On the other hand, I’m going to say something I’ve been dying to tell you.”
All Stan did was glare at Hayden.
Hayden flinched and slid down the couch, a few inches away. “She told you that I took her out for dinner a few days before she went out on that big date with you, didn’t she?”
“Yes. But she didn’t say very much.”
“That’s because there was nothing to tell. It was the worst nowhere date I’ve ever been on. It’s not that we were bored or didn’t get along. We had a nice time and all that. At the end of the night we were still friends, just the way we were before. Nothing changed. There was no spark. Nothing. Nada. She wouldn’t even let me pay for her meal.”
“She does that to me all the time.”
“Then I’d like to say I feel better about not paying for a lady’s meal, but I don’t, really.”
Stan almost said that she also did that to him all the time, too, but he didn’t want to make himself even more depressed.
“We didn’t lack for conversation, but do you know what was the most interesting topic we covered?”
“What?” Not that he really wanted to know. As sel
fish and wrong as it felt, he didn’t want Hayden to have a good time with Amber. Especially if they were out on a date.
“You. I couldn’t believe it, but we talked a lot about you. I wish you could have seen her. Her eyes lit up, and she smiled a lot. I don’t think she realized she was doing it either. Right then I saw that door closing, right in my face. I like Amber. A lot. I know she likes me too. But not that way. The one she likes that way is you.”
“But she doesn’t. I know she doesn’t.”
“She does. When I kissed her good night, she—”
Before Stan realized what he was doing, he had Hayden by the shirt collar and was glaring into his face, a few inches between their eyes. His heart was pounding, his breathing choppy, and he held his whole body as tight as a drumhead.
“Dude!” Hayden raised his hands in surrender but didn’t touch Stan or push him away. “It was nothing. I get more response from my mother’s cat, who hates everyone except my mother.”
Stan let go like Hayden was on fire, sank down into the couch, and covered his face with his hands again. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I don’t know why I did that.”
“I do. You couldn’t stand the thought of me kissing your girl.”
He shook his head with his face still buried in his hands. “But she’s not my girl.”
“She is. She just doesn’t think of it that way. But she is. I had to listen to her sing your praises all night. Every time I see her, whenever your name comes up, I hear it all again. I’m surprised your feet even touch the ground.”
“My feet touch the ground. Make no doubt of that.”
“Not in her eyes. She’s crazy about you. I don’t know why you haven’t asked her to marry you. If she were interested in me like that, I’d ask her in a New York minute.”
