by Tess Rothery
“He never took you with him on his field trips?”
“If he had, how could he have gambled away our life’s savings?”
“True.”
“Gambling was his weakness. But it wasn’t weak enough to bother the owner of the business or the denomination that ordained him. I made some calls before we separated. I thought if I had the support of the church, maybe we could save the marriage.”
“I’m shocked that a religious body would condone gambling.”
“They said that because he had confessed it was an addiction, they would never hold it against him.”
“That’s weird. I would never hire someone to work at Flour Sax who had confessed to a gambling addiction.”
“Churches are different. They often reward people who admit their sins like that. It encourages the congregation, I suppose.” Her eyes flicked briefly to the hutch of pottery.
Addictions came in many sizes, and Taylor wondered if Annie regretted her decision to be an artist—and she wondered if she’d had any real control over that decision. “What were you hoping his, um, bosses would do about it?”
Annie frowned, her eyebrows drawing together. “I wanted him removed from his position as chaplain. I thought it was too much temptation. He needed to have a more boring job where his ego wasn’t being fed by the adoration of grateful residents all day long. He needed work where he wouldn’t be the center of attention. I don’t know what it ought to have been, but they told me his gift was clear and that he was needed and that the residents would be bereft without him.”
“Did he at least cancel his trips to Spirit Mountain?”
“No. He said that God would give him the strength to not gamble and that the residents didn’t have to suffer because of his weakness. The bosses ate that up. He was reformed, redeemed, and sanctified all at once.”
“And that’s when you separated?”
“Yes. If the church wasn’t going to look out for his wife and children, I had to do it on my own.”
“Did you know his aunt, Mrs. Sylvester?”
“We’d met.”
“Is there anything I ought to know about her?”
“She adored her great nephew.”
“I feel like I’ve interrupted you to no good end.” Taylor stood. “But thank you for your time. And let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
Annie smiled gently. “It’s a lovely thought.”
“Oh, one more thing.” Taylor remembered suddenly that there might have been a problem just as bad as the gambling in Leon’s life. “What did you think of his relationship with Cricket Jones?”
Annie’s face reddened. “Cricket was lovely. Honestly. If you had to have a stepmom in your family, she was a good one.”
“But?”
“But I do wish the relationship could have waited until the divorce was final.”
“Did it wait until you were at least separated?”
“One wonders.” Annie’s face, still pink, was otherwise calm and clear.
She walked Taylor to her car and said goodbye.
Out back of the charming picture-book house nestled gently in the Happy Hollow was a studio and a kiln where Annie had been able to build her dream life as an artist as her husband slowly but surely took it apart again, bit by bit.
Even if he had been cheating on her as well, Annie Farkas didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would kill.
Taylor drove back to her shop wishing there was something she could do for the sake of his kids whose grief and pain she understood much more than his wife’s. There was still plenty of day left at the shop. She was thankful for something practical to keep the sympathetic grief at bay.
Karina Wyandotte paced the hall at the Bible Creek Care Home. Her errands had been run and the place was still on a sort of modified lockdown. The phones weren’t ringing, and there was nothing to do but stew in her frustration at ruined plans. She had an ally in Joey Burke, an ally to annoy the crap out of Taylor Quinn. But Joey wasn’t a very impressive ally. She’d had a simple job and biffed it.
But maybe it wasn’t Joey’s fault. Maybe the trick to getting between Hudson and Taylor wasn’t in romance.
She smiled to herself and transferred the desk phone to her cell.
If Hudson loved anyone in this world, it was his Grandpa Boggy. And if Boggy loved anything at all, it was lots of attention from girls who flirted. From the elderly Mrs. Sylvester, who could have been his mother, to the high schoolers who bussed tables in the dining room, if Boggy could get a giggle or a blush out of a female, he was a happy man
Karina sauntered down to Boggy’s room. Today all she had to do was make a bored old man happy. In the long run, she could slowly but surely poison him against Taylor Quinn.
If Boggy didn’t like Taylor, Hudson would give up on his single-minded pursuit.
Sure, it didn’t mean she’d get him back. But she was past that. If she couldn’t have him, neither could Taylor. That was all that really mattered.
Boggy didn’t answer on the first knock. For a second, Karina felt fear. It surprised her. She knocked louder and hollered his name. After what felt like forever but was probably just a couple of minutes, the door opened.
“Well!” Boggy looked pleased. “If I’d known you were coming over, I wouldn’t have fallen asleep. What kind of trouble can I get you in?”
“I just thought I’d pop over and say hi. With the dining room closed, I don’t get to see anyone.”
“Come in, come in. I’ve got coffee on.”
She came in, happy with her success, happy that Boggy wasn’t dead. Just happy in general.
He poured her a mug of strong black coffee and settled himself in a recliner. “Did you abandon post this morning or is someone doing all your hard work?”
Karina waved her phone. “I abandoned it. But the calls will come to me if anyone calls.”
“You know, kiddo, I always did like you. You’re both clever and lazy, like me.” He grinned.
She knew he meant it as a compliment, but she stiffened. Clever and lazy were too on point.
“This is just a social visit, but if you have any thoughts you’d like to share about how we’ve been handling the, um…”
“Imprisonment of free people?” He lifted an eyebrow.
“Ah.”
“This is ridiculous. Open the dining room. Open the rec facilities. We pay good money to live here and can’t use any of our stuff.”
“At the same time,” Karina remembered the surprising fear that something had happened to Boggy while she waited for him to answer the door, “we’ve had two murders. We’ve got to figure out how to keep everyone safe.”
“Real sad about that Cricket,” Boggy said. “You know she’s a homewrecker?”
He looked wistful as he said it, which also surprised Karina. “She stole my Michelle’s husband from her. But you know that because you almost married Hudson. Doug East was never any good. A drinker, mostly. So my Michelle was better off without him. But when I saw that Cricket running around here, I wasn’t real happy about it.”
“Are you saying that Doug left your daughter for Cricket?”
“Sure am.”
“I bet you would have liked to kill her yourself.”
He shook his head slowly. “I was really mad, and I bet my daughter would have liked to stick a knife in her, but like I said, Doug never was any good. It didn’t take me long to figure Cricket did us a favor. But you know how homewreckers are. She got tired of Doug and moved on. Who knows how many angry wives are out there?”
“Very true.” Karina was pleased with the turn of the conversation. How easy it would be to explain that Taylor was a homewrecker too. That she had slipped right in and stolen Hudson from her.
She was about to say just that when her phone rang. She made an apologetic grimace and answered it. “Bible Creek Care Home, this is Karina.”
Mrs. Frida Calloway was on the other line. There was a mouse in her apartment. Karina
shivered. “I’ll get housekeeping out there right away.” She called housekeeping, who said they’d go set a trap.
By the time she was done, Boggy was half-asleep.
“Sorry about that.”
“Hmm? What?” He roused a little.
“Sorry about the interruption. We were talking about homewreckers…”
Boggy clucked. “If I told you all the times women tried to steal me away from my darling, you’d never believe me.” He grinned.
“Just like Taylor Quinn.” She frowned, hoping she looked young and sad.
“Oh, I don’t know. Girls try to distract Hudson, but he’s pretty set on that one. Real good girl too. So sad about her being an orphan. Did you know she took me to a bar yesterday? For lunch. God bless her for even thinking of it. But that’s the Bakers through and through. You know her grandpa is Ernie Baker. Best man who ever lived in this town. Did I ever tell you about what he did during the war? Korea. He’s too young for World War II.”
Karina couldn’t stifle the distaste. She pulled her phone out. “Oh, no! Oh, Boggy, I’m sorry. I’ve got to run. I can only hide from work for so long.”
He nodded and stood carefully, as though his joints weren’t as kind to him as they used to be. “I tell you what, Karina, you get that Ernie Baker to move in here and you’ll be my favorite girl in the world. Might even marry you.” He winked.
She giggled though it wasn’t convincing and hustled back to the office.
Wasted.
But just because she didn’t achieve her goal today didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. Taylor Quinn had a weakness. Everyone did. She just had to find it and exploit it in such a way that it turned Hudson’s crush into disgust.
Shoot, even apathy would work at this point.
Chapter Fourteen
Clark and Bethany Jones entered Flour Sax reverently, as though it was a sanctuary.
Taylor spotted them immediately and joined them in the corner where her mom’s videos streamed day in and day out. “Taylor, we really couldn’t thank you enough for the call. We just wanted to come by and say so ourselves.” Bethany picked up a stack of fat quarters that had been folded like triangles, stacked like stars, and bundled. “We wanted to come and support you the way you have supported us.”
Taylor took the fabric from her. “You do not have to buy things from me.”
She picked up another. “Let us, please.”
“It’s a baby quilt set. Mother Goose themed.”
Bethany set the fabric down again and looked around. The Flour Sax Row by Row hung behind the register. Seven years of rows her mother had designed. The last, music themed. “Do you have a kit with all of the rows? I would love to make it, to remember Laura.”
Taylor led them back to the classroom. “We do, but you don’t need to do that. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“Okay.” Clark led his wife to the recliner that used to be Grandpa Ernie’s throne, and she sat.
Taylor put a hazelnut pod in the Keurig. “I’m so glad to see you. Can I buy you dinner? We’re closing in an hour.”
Willa was putting the shop back in order already. Unlike Roxy, who enjoyed a lengthy chat after the door was locked for the day, Willa liked to get it done and get back home.
Taylor wasn’t keen to ask Ellery to stay late again, though. “Grandpa Ernie would love to see you. We can take him down to the diner and have a meal together.”
“You do too much for everyone, Taylor.” Clark’s voice deep and gentle, fatherly, though not at all like her own father’s had been.
“Make yourself comfortable.” Taylor gestured toward a stack of quilt magazines. “As soon as we’re closed up, we can collect Grandpa Ernie and have a meal.”
The last half hour or so of closing dragged on as she worried over Cricket Jones’ parents. It didn’t seem right that they had driven to town just to buy an expensive quilt kit in support. Their minds shouldn’t have been on her call at all right now. Something was wrong, and as the minutes passed, her idea of what it might be grew to absurd levels. By the time they were collecting Grandpa Ernie at her house, she almost believed they had killed their own daughter to cover up her role in Leon’s death. After all, she had learned with her own mother’s death that some parents would do literally anything to protect their children.
And maybe they saw death as preferable to a murder conviction.
Taylor tried not to let her fears show as they settled into their booth at the local diner, but she was stiff, uncomfortable, and knew they could tell.
“Real sad about your kid,” Grandpa Ernie declared after the waitress, Aviva Rueben, had given them their menus and water glasses.
“If anyone would understand our pain, it’s you, sir.”
Taylor had introduced Bethany and Clark to Grandpa Ernie, but she wasn’t sure if he remembered them as the passionate quilting couple who had supported the business for years and years. At this hour, she was never sure exactly what he remembered.
“This one wants me to move into that old folks’ home,” Grandpa Ernie continued, “but I told her people die there. Now we all know it’s true.”
A flicker of confusion crossed Bethany’s face and Clark gave her shoulder a rub. He seemed to recognize the dementia that had changed their old friend. “It’s a good home, Ernie. I have an old friend who lives there. That’s how Cricket heard of it.”
Grandpa Ernie harrumphed into his mustache.
“His son is considering him moving to the memory care wing.” He gave his wife’s arm another gentle stroke, and she seemed to understand the clues he was giving.
“Did Cricket like working there?” Taylor asked.
“She did. She’d had some career troubles through the years, though she was very well meaning. You know she was actually a stay-at-home mom to Hudson, way back when. I think the end of that relationship—with Doug East—really hurt her.”
“But that’s in the past,” Bethany murmured. “Nothing is hurting her now.”
“I like Hudson,” Grandpa Ernie said. “Wish Taylor would just marry him. He’s a real man.”
“Oh!” Bethany brightened. “You hadn’t said. You didn’t say. If you married Hudson, you’d almost be a granddaughter.”
Taylor suppressed an impatient facial expression, or at least she hoped she did. “It’s a lovely thought. You know, I’m sure he’d love to hear from you. No one ever forgets their grandparents.”
“Oh, ho ho.” Clark looked proud, but tried to brush the idea off with a wave of his hand. “We haven’t seen him since he was a child, surely he’s forgotten us.”
“He hasn’t. He spoke so warmly of your daughter, truly loved her like a mother. He would love to hear from you.”
Bethany’s eyes sparked with fresh tears. “We wouldn’t even know how to find him.”
Taylor wrote his number on a napkin and passed it to Clark. Funny that she knew it by heart, as she never had to dial it. But she did. “Call him. Anytime.”
“Now?” Bethany asked, looking at the number with gratitude.
“No, not now. We’re having dinner now. No phones at dinner.” Grandpa Ernie slapped the table with a shaky hand. “You kids are all the same.”
Bethany Jones tucked the napkin into her purse. “Thank you, Taylor. We’ll call him.”
“Bet you didn’t know my kid was a detective.” He turned an approving look on Taylor. “Her mother and I never thought she had it in her. Never was book smart, our Laura, but she solved two murders. Now, who was it? Tell them whose murders you solved, Laura.” He nodded firmly at Taylor.
Her face scrunched into a chagrinned smile of apology. “Not long ago my friend’s aunt passed,” she said. “Maybe you heard about Reynette Woods?”
“The quilter, yes. We followed that case on the internet.”
“On Facebook,” Bethany nodded. “I’m in a group that follows murders to pray for the families and for justice.”
“What an interesting idea.” Taylor sipped her water,
watching Bethany closely. Another thing that she had seen warp people around her was an intense desire to do anything for attention online. At least that was a part of what had gotten her mother killed. “They must be a comfort to you right now.”
“Oh, yes, so much. I have been getting so many messages of support, and their prayers lift me up. You don’t even have to be a Christian to be in the group. Some of our members are Catholics.”
“Aren’t there some Jewish folk in the group, too?” Clark asked.
“Yes! Some messianic Jews are in the group. It’s so wonderful when people can put aside their differences to help one another.”
Taylor held her opinion to herself. But inside she was kicking. Since when were Catholics not Christians?
“Her phone’s been blowing up with messages. Messages from Facebook all day long. I made her turn it off for the drive here so she’d talk to me for once instead of that online community.”
“Gotta be careful on the computer,” Grandpa Ernie said. “People are out to get you.”
“Very true, sir,” Clark said. “Never give your banking information to anyone online.”
“Or your social security number!” Bethany piped up. “I couldn’t believe our poor Cricket got bit with that one. She seemed so young and smart.”
“The crooks are getting smarter every day,” Taylor murmured, though she also couldn’t believe someone in their mid-forties had given away a social security number on the Internet. She wondered what had actually happened that had made Cricket tell that story to her parents.
“Crooks are everywhere. Laura may be a detective, but she steals from me. Every month she steals my social security check. You can’t trust anyone.”
Grandpa Ernie’s agitation was growing.
“Pardon me.” Taylor was sitting on the outside of the booth. “I need to get to the car and grab something.” When he got this bad, it was a clear sign he needed his oxygen. He had refused to take it into the restaurant, but his portable canister was in the car. It wouldn’t take long to grab it. “If Aviva comes back, tell her I want a patty melt and side salad, please.”
