The crowd thinned before Enid approached me. She drew me aside.
Not you, too. I wanted to groan.
“I think I’ve figured out the second clue in the treasure hunt, the one about the path of the upright being a highway.”
Oh, the town’s hunt in celebration of the opening of the Center for the Arts. I had almost forgotten with the investigation. “I can’t—”
“I know that. But I’m sure it’s talking about Route 66, and I think I have an idea where, as well.” She lowered her voice. “I noticed that Route 66 is on the mural. If Mr. Merriman knew the location of the ‘treasure’—” A smile skittered across her face “—He might have hidden clues in the mural.”
This suggestion, coming from one of the most level-headed women I knew, deserved my attention. I tucked it away in my brain for further consideration. “If you’re right. . .”
“Oh, phooey. Keep the reward money.” She turned her back and greeted the couple in the next aisle.
After we extracted ourselves from the curious questioners, the family gathered at the Crazy W for our weekly dinner. I had prepared dessert as usual—apple crumble—but Gilda insisted on fixing something as well. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Strange and wonderful smells filled the kitchen all morning. Unfortunately, I also found an empty beer can in the trash. Dad would die of mortification if he found out..
Gilda and Dad fought for position in the kitchen--in the nicest possible way, of course, with plenty of “excuse me’s” and “thank you’s.” Dad set out our everyday china while Gilda searched for table linens. Before she could grind beans for fresh coffee, he had dropped ice into tall glasses and poured tea.
The timer rang for Dina’s high-as-heaven biscuits. Within minutes we gathered around the table to eat. Dad carried out one of his favorite dishes—ham hock with beans. Jenna had fixed a cornucopia of vegetables, her specialty. Dina’s biscuits piled high on the plate, with the welcome addition of a jar of Dustin Murk’s honey.
Gilda brought her platter out last of all, and no one knew quite what to make of it. Mustard, onions, and sauerkraut covered a gigantic coiled sausage.
Audie rubbed his hands together. “Bet you boiled those brats in beer.”
At the mention of beer, Dad looked ready to toss the meat in the garbage, platter and all, but he put a brave face on it. “Always interesting to try new things.”
Gilda nodded assent. “Audie loves home-made pizza. I’ll show you how to fix it. It’s easy.”
Help.
Of course we couldn’t smell the beer anymore. Cooking removed alcohol, or so I’d heard. But I had never heard of using it as a marinade. Audie carved up the bratwurst—one of those deli meats I had never tried—with all the skill of a turkey carving. He gave me a slice as long as my foot. So much for taking a small taste.
Dina dived right in. “Mmm, delicious!”
“Good food, good fellowship. What more could a man ask for? ‘A cheerful heart has a continual feast,’ isn’t that right, Dad?”
“Proverbs 15:15.” The two men had an ongoing contest to see who could stump the other with Bible quotes, especially from the book of Proverbs. I hadn’t seen one of them lose yet.
“Gilda fixed us home-made Chicago deep dish pizza the other night. I didn’t know it could taste so good.” Maybe I could distract Dad from the beer-marinated brat.
Gilda beamed.
I took a bite of her new offering—not bad.
“Can you show me how to make the crust?” Dina, the best baker in the family, asked. “I haven’t learned the knack yet.”
“Of course.” Gilda was in her element. “Come by anytime.”
Audie nodded at me, as if to say well done. For his sake, I wished I got along better with Gilda. He was right; I wouldn’t mind some mothering as Junior’s birth approached, but I felt too vulnerable to admit my weaknesses to my mother-in-law.
The brat proved the high point of the meal. Dad might have to send the ham and beans home with us.
“Did either of you hear anything interesting about the notice?” Dina took a second slice of brat. “No one told me anything. They just asked questions.”
Jenna shook her head. “Mostly questions and speculation. Everyone mentioned the legend about Larry Grace’s buried treasure.”
I thought about Enid’s interesting comment. “Enid wondered if Brad might have incorporated clues to the location of the treasure in the mural, if he knew any.”
“What? The quote about ‘precious and pleasant riches’?” Gilda spoke up.
“That’s the one,” Dina said ruefully. “Say ‘riches’ and people think buried treasure and gold.”
“They must not know their Bibles.”
Since Gilda was addressing people who went to church every time the doors opened, I didn’t appreciate her comment. But she plowed ahead.
“At least not the King James.”
That was a little better. I had grown up reading the New International Version. Dad had memorized hundreds of verses in both versions.
“‘Through wisdom is a house builded, and by understanding it is established. And by knowledge shall the chambers be filled with all precious and pleasant riches.”
“Of course! I didn’t recognize it at first.” Audie smacked his forehead with his palm. “In the NIV, I think it reads ‘rare and beautiful treasures.’ That’s from Proverbs—”
“Chapter 24, verses three and four.” Dad finished.
13
Ron Grace, Roland and Gwennie’s youngest son, also left the ranch. After he managed the family’s oil interests for a number of years, he became involved in city government. He first ran for city councilman at the age of twenty-five and later was elected mayor in a special election in 1998. He has remained in that position ever since. Ron married Barbara Burrows late in life; they have no children. “Mayor Ron,” as he is affectionately known, is most famous for his collection of Grace artifacts. He displays them beneath the “Grace-filled Map” in the mayor’s office which pinpoints communities across the globe with the word “Grace” in their name. Because of his efforts, Grace Gulch has sister cities in every continent of the world.
From A History of Grace Gulch
Sunday, September 17
“The Brad I knew wouldn’t have recognized a quote from the Bible even if he was given chapter and verse.” Jenna coughed.
“He had changed,” Audie said gently. “He came to know the Lord about a year back. He loved the book of Proverbs almost as much as I do. We discussed it all the time.”
“Nothing like Proverbs to guide a man’s steps.” Gilda’s enthusiasm told me where Audie had derived his habit. A point in her favor.
“So if Larry Grace was indeed quoting Proverbs—” I followed the idea.
“—Brad might have recognized the reference.” Audie completed the thought.
“Is anyone else ready for dessert?” Dad interrupted. “Let’s continue our discussion in the living room, over Cici’s apple crumble.”
After that, we stayed busy with other things, like consuming every bite of the crumble. No surprise there, since we often devoured the entire dessert. The fact Gilda’s bratwurst also disappeared caught me by surprise.
Jenna and Dina wouldn’t allow Gilda and me to help clean up. “Go put your feet up,” Jenna insisted. “Junior might not appreciate getting wet.”
Don’t babies live in fluid until they’re born? I didn’t argue, however. We took seats in the kitchen. Dad and Audie remained in the parlor, enjoying some man-to-man time.
“I want to know how to fix that meat,” Dina said as she packaged Dad’s ham and beans into dishes for us to take home. “I tried to fix it once or twice when I was away at school, but mine never tasted so good.”
“I’m so glad you liked it.” Gilda smiled and looked almost human.
Why couldn’t I be as open to Gilda as Dina appeared to be?
“It’s even better when you can grill it instead of cooking in a fry pan.” Gilda
explained the process of boiling the meat in beer and then adding the other ingredients.
“Better bring your ID,” I joked. With her new blue hair, Dina looked younger than eighteen.
“Maybe you’d better not try it for awhile.” Jenna piled dishes in the sink. Yes, Dad had a dishwasher, but for some reason, the three of us enjoyed sharing the dish chore together. “The way the Grace Gulch rumor mill goes, they’ll be saying like mother, like daughter, and question you about illegal drugs.”
“Are the police still hassling you about that?” I couldn’t believe the police didn’t have better things to do with their time.
“I think I’ll be under suspicion until they find the real culprit.” Jenna added soap to running water. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
That was Jenna, projecting an I-don’t-care attitude no matter what. Since her return to Grace Gulch, I had learned to see beneath the veneer.
“They should leave you alone.” I was the kitten, wanting to protect the older, wiser tom cat.
“Don’t worry. Georgia won’t let them bully me into anything.” She flashed a look at me that said leave it alone.
“What’s that about drugs?” Gilda’s face soured as if we had said a swear word.
Dina grabbed the first plate and dried it. “Over the last year, there’s been an increase of drugs coming into town. A lot more kids getting into trouble, some as young as junior high.”
“Oh, my, that’s terrible. I had no idea that Grace Gulch had drug problems.” Gilda muttered.
“Audie never expected a small town to have the same problems as Chicago, either.” Like murder, I added silently. “But it happens everywhere these days.”
“Murder and drugs and arson. You’d be safer somewhere else.”
I doubted there was a drug-free zone short of heaven. Once again I suspected Gilda didn’t think much of Grace Gulch—or me.
“Unfortunately for me, the increase started a few months after I moved back.” Jenna frowned. “So I’m a natural suspect.”
“Did anyone else move here about the same time?” Dina mused. She polished off a cup and glanced at the kitchen clock, the same one that had hung there since we were children. “I gotta hurry. Noah is picking me up before long.”
Jenna didn’t quite succeed in hiding a frown. She wasn’t crazy about her 22-year-old daughter dating a thirty-seven-year-old man. Dina stiffened, and conversation stalled. She left the last few dishes drying in the rack to freshen her makeup.
Fifteen minutes later, the front doorbell rang. Dad ushered Noah into the kitchen. He pushed his trademark sunglasses on top of his head, and his smile stretched so far you would think OU was playing for the national football championship. He looked his most scholarly, in a sweater covering a button-down shirt—more academic than artist.
“Hi, Noah.” At least Jenna spoke to him. “Dina will be ready in a few minutes.”
“Jenna, it’s good to see you again. Cici.” He acknowledged my presence. When he approached Gilda, he lifted her right hand to his lips. “And who is this lovely lady? Your cousin?”
Okay, maybe I had misjudged the academic stereotype. He was a charmer, an artist at heart. “This is my mother-in-law, Gilda. She’s staying with Audie and me until the baby is born.”
At that moment, Dina ran into the room and into Noah’s arms. They exchanged a quick kiss. She had switched from her Sunday dress to jeans and a T-shirt emblazoned with the Grace Gulch Community College logo.
Noah touched her hair. “Blue?” He tilted his head, studying the effect.
Dina struck a pose. “Do you like it?”
“I’d like anything, as long as it was you.” Noah nuzzled the crown of her head.
“When should I expect you back?” At twenty-two, Dina didn’t have a curfew—she never knew when she’d be working late—but Dad still liked to know.
“It won’t be late, Mr. Wilde. I promise.” Noah winked at Dina. “We’re headed over to the Garland Café on Route 66. I heard there was some excitement over there this afternoon.”
He had our attention.
“Did they—” Dina paused just in time. Noah didn’t know all the clues, unless she had told him.
“Suzanne Jay showed up a couple of minutes before the music teacher. They both quoted the second clue, the Bible verse that mentions a highway and thorns. Then Suzanne asked for the thorn bush special, the one with hash browns and crisp bacon and all that stuff.” He shook his head. “Those clues are something else.”
“So Suzanne is in the lead.” Good for her.
“Of course I followed their example and gave the café owner the spiel. And now I know what the third clue is without figuring out the second one.” He grinned at us. “‘She will set a garland of grace on your head and present you with a crown of splendor.’”
“Proverbs chapter 4, verse 9.” Dad nodded in recognition. “Are all the clues from the book of Proverbs?” He asked of no one in particular. “I bet you thought that one up.” He nodded at Audie.
Audie winked at me. “I may have suggested it.”
“See you later, Dad.” Dina waved at us before she dashed out the door with Noah following. Did our biblical discussion embarrass her in front of her date? If so—she had made a poor choice.
After Dina left, we shelled pecans—an annual fall tradition, although Dad indulged in good-natured grumbling about dividing the spoils now that Jenna and I had our own homes.
“That looks like fun,” Gilda said in a bright voice. “May I help?”
“Do we have enough nutcrackers?” Dad fussed.
“Dina’s not here, so we have an extra.” Jenna handed her the utensil. We settled onto the living room furniture. Gilda took the spot usually reserved for our dog. Ralphie gave her a woeful look before draping himself across her feet.
I didn’t do as neat a job as usual in shelling. Instead of pretty halves to arrange on the top of a pie or cake, I kept ending up with pieces. Gilda manage dozens of perfectly shaped nutmeats. Oh, well. They would taste the same.
“I don’t know anything about Brad’s personal life in recent years. Like the fact he was into the book of Proverbs.” Jenna reintroduced our earlier discussion. “But I do know his work. I’ve followed his career.” A pale pink suffused her face. “I’ve even handled a few of his pieces. He loves to include small clues and puzzles in his paintings, like a children’s picture puzzle. If he found something intriguing in the journal, he might have incorporated clues about it in the mural.”
“His hiding place.” My mind made an intuitive leap. “If Larry Grace did hide the money from the bank robbery and wrote about it in his journal. . .”
Jenna nodded. “Brad might have figured it out and put that in the mural. He might have decided no one could find him where the money is hidden, since no one has located the treasure in almost a century.” Her smile turned into a scowl. “Although I still have no idea why he is hiding.”
“Great! More clues.” I dug at a stubborn bit of meat in the shell.
We arranged to meet at Audie’s office to study the plans for the mural during the lunch hour Monday. Maybe Brad had included enough details to give us an idea where to start.
During the morning, Dustin Murk returned to my shop. She handed me another jar of honey. “I see people have been using the honey.”
“Yes. Thanks.”
“I see they’ve taken most of my business cards as well.” She dropped a few more by the coffeemaker.
“I saw your ad in yesterday’s paper. Of course I’ll use the ’60s theme for our hayride. Perfect! But do you have anything less formal?” She gestured at a sweater dress that would look funny on top of a bale of hay. “I love your outfit, by the way.”
I looked down at my blouse, a collared v-neck with two top buttons before it gave way to the unavoidable tent-shape for the baby. “Thanks. I made it from a vintage pattern.”
“You have a great many talents!”
“I can create costumes for al
most any era, if you ever need something special. But for the hayride—” I took her to the rack where bell bottoms were displayed. “How about something along these lines?” While she browsed, I considered the possibilities A ’60s themed hayride. Would the parents of Grace Gulch allow their teens to buy two vintage outfits? At least accessories? Maybe I should restock.
Dustin picked out a lovely outfit in tie-dye blues and bell bottom jeans and a wide belt for herself. “And I’ll direct anyone who makes a reservation with us to come to your store.”
“Thanks for stopping by.” I handed Dustin one of my business cards, “Cici’s Vintage Clothing, established 2003,” embossed in Gothic script and featuring a dress with bustle. “I look forward to doing business with you.”
“You know.” Dustin slipped the handle of her shopping bag over her arm. “My husband Wilbert does beautiful ironwork. He could create some racks that would look like they came straight from a pioneer’s cabin.”
“That’s an interesting idea. I’ll come out to visit you sometime. Hopefully before the baby comes.” We said goodbye.
Dustin was a silver-blonde dynamo. With her in my corner, business would improve.
14
An impoverished widow from an early age, Maisie Mallory was the only woman to stake a claim in Grace Gulch during the 1891 land run. She took advantage of the Homestead Act of 1862 that allowed anyone who had never taken up arms against the United States to file an application—including women and freed slaves. She left her three school-age children with her parents in Abilene, Kansas, and gambled their future in Oklahoma. Dressed in bloomers that allowed her to ride astride instead of sidesaddle, Maisie outrode twenty men to become the fifth person to stake a claim in the Gulch. This indefatigable woman made the requisite improvements on the land to “prove” her claim and worked with Lizzie Gaynor to start Grace Gulch’s first school—all within a year. Her children were the first students.
Maisie’s grandson Matthew Mallory married Magda Grace.
Darlene Franklin - Dressed for Death 03 - Paint Me a Murder Page 9
