Ellie nodded and took a sip of her coffee. “You’re telling me. I’m the one that pays for his lunches every day,” she grinned. “I can stock the refrigerator on Monday and it needs re-stocking by Wednesday,” she laughed. “But I don’t mind. I’m just glad he wants to work for me.”
“So, what do you think of his theory?” Gabe asked, reaching for his cup.
“The Sinclair Conspiracy, as he calls it?” she almost laughed. “Well, I think it does have some merit. It was right after Bart Sinclair was declared the heir that all of this craziness started in town.”
“Or, it could be coincidence,” Gabe suggested. “Still. . .”
Ellie shrugged. “Somebody is looking for something. It’s not just some common thief. They aren’t even stealing anything. I can’t think of another explanation.”
“Well, it’s a wildfire of gossip over at the diner,” Gabe said. “I had lunch there a couple of days ago and it was all talk about the Sinclair family. Do you think there’s any truth to the rumor that Charles Sinclair made a will and hid it from the relatives?”
“Madge says that was his threat to the people at the house the day they all got into a big argument over who was inheriting what from the estate.”
“Of which she is one,” he reminded her.
Ellie chewed her lip for a moment. “I’m not sure she was in on that argument. But, I don’t understand why she didn’t mention that when she was telling me about working up at the house.”
A knock sounded at the front door of the store. Ellie glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. Three hours and forty minutes after midnight. A perfect time for company.
“Wonder who that is?” Gabe said as he scooted away from the table and headed to the door.
Ellie smoothed back her hair. She had gone upstairs and changed into jeans and a shirt, but she had neglected to comb her hair or brush her teeth. She must look like she’d just rolled out of bed. Which she literally had, when Officer Brown showed up a few hours ago.
She didn’t have to wait long. It was only a moment until she recognized Betty Jo’s voice. As owner of the newspaper, she and her husband photographer seemed to have their noses in everyone’s business. And the whole Sinclair saga was driving them even harder than usual.
“Ellie, there you are!” Betty Jo exclaimed as she came around the rack of calendars.
Ellie offered her best smile. Just who did she expect to find? Well, no need to be rude. She plastered a bigger smile on her face. “What a surprise to see you here, at this time of night.”
Betty Jo laughed. “You know I keep that police scanner right there on my bedside table. As a newspaper owner, I can’t afford to miss a good story.”
Ellie sighed. So now, she was a good story.
“So tell me, dear,” Betty Jo said, taking a seat in the chair Gabe had vacated. “What did he steal?”
“He who?” She shouldn’t have said that. Her grandmother would have said she sounded like a smart aleck. But Betty Jo probably had thick skin.
Betty Jo’s eyes rounded and her eyebrows shot up. “The burglar! Did he take all of your money?”
Ellie shook her head and held tighter to her coffee. “As far as I can see, whoever it was, didn’t take anything. They just made a mess back in the office.”
Betty Jo’s eyes glowed. “Will it be OK to get a picture of it for the paper?”
“My messy office?” Was she kidding? “Well. . .”
“I think we’d better wait and see what the police say,” Gabe intervened, as he stepped behind Ellie’s chair.
Betty Jo stared up at him, and then her expression changed. “Did you say ‘we’, Gabe Chandler?”
Ellie’s heart all but stopped. If that sort of rumor about the two of them got started around town. . .
Gabe’s voice was quick and matter-of-fact. “I meant it figuratively. The police chief said he’s going to send another officer around in the morning. I imagine they’ll take some pictures for themselves at that time.”
“I see. But it was so nice for Ellie that you were here when the man broke into the store.”
“Gabe came after the police did,” Ellie interjected. How dare she insinuate otherwise.
Betty Jo stood, a curious smile on her face. “Well, I guess Gabe has a police scanner, too.”
***
“That woman can bring out the worst in me,” Ellie sighed, slugging back the last of her now cold coffee.
Gabe laughed. “I wouldn’t worry about her too much. She has plenty to write about. And if things keep going the way they’ve been, this little burglary will be one of several.”
“That hardly makes me feel good,” she laughed. “Wishing bad things on others is just not right. If only someone understood what is happening to our town.”
“Candle Cove is going to be fine,” he said, taking hold of her elbow and pulling her from her chair.
She looked up at him, their breath mingling, faces only inches apart. “Gabe. . .” His lips, soft and sweet, were on hers in a moment. She leaned in closer, letting his arms go around her, pulling her tighter to him. Her heart fluttered, like summer butterflies trapped in a net, wild for their freedom. Sparks of heat spun around her face as his fingers gently stroked her jaw. “Gabe,” she whispered as their lips parted.
“Mom!”
They stepped apart at once. Ellie’s breath was heavy in her chest and she tried to breathe. “Danny! What are you doing awake?” He usually slept like a worn out puppy. Of all the moments for him to wake from his usually deep sleep.
“I, uh, I’d better be going,” Gabe said, as he turned and headed toward the door. Without turning, he called, “Talk to you tomorrow.” With that, he was gone.
Ellie folded her arms and turned toward her son. “Danny, why are you awake?”
“I heard something. But I guess it wasn’t you, cause you were kissing Gabe.”
She cleared her throat and brushed her fingers through her uncombed hair. “Well, never mind about that. Now, let’s head upstairs and get you into a real bed for the rest of the night.”
***
She tucked in his covers and ruffled his hair, glad to see that his eyelids were all ready heavy with sleep. “Good night, little man,” she whispered.
She was about to close the door when he spoke. “Mom?”
She opened the door wider. “Yes?”
“Since you kissed Gabe, does that mean that you’re going to marry him?”
Great. “No, sweetheart. It was just a . . . .” A what? They had kissed and there was nothing more to it. “Gabe and I are old friends. Nothing more.”
“But you don’t ever kiss Wilkie when he delivers candy to the store.”
Ellie pushed the door open wider. “Wilkie Platt?” Why would he think she might kiss Wilkie?
“You said he and you were old friends. Just like you and Gabe.”
Glad for the darkness, she rolled her eyes. How was she ever going to explain all of this to him? “Well, honey, some people are just different kinds of friends. Gabe and I were very close friends. Wilkie and I were just. . .regular friends.”
“Oh.” He paused for a moment. “I guess. But I think it might be a good idea for you to marry him. Johnny Sanders says that you’re supposed to marry a girl if you kiss her. “
How long would it take to explain love, romance, and life to a small boy? “We’ll talk about it later, OK?”
I guess. Goodnight, Mom.”
“Goodnight, Danny.”
Chapter 16
Ellie sighed. So far, there were six stacks of papers. She had done her best to smooth the wrinkles from them. Whoever it was that had pawed through all of her documents, had not bothered to be very careful. There was a partial shoe print on one of them, but it was only of the toe of what looked like a running shoe.
Telling Cal about it would probably be useless. The sophistication of the Candle Cove police department probably fell short of those on television programs where such a clue would
lead them directly to the criminal.
Rory’s shadow came round the door, and his face appeared as he leaned inside of the room. “I don’t want to upset you or anything, but there are some reporters from the television station out there. If you want, I can talk to them.”
He looked hopeful. She suppressed a smile at the Sinclair Theory that he would present to them. Not that it wasn’t a valid possibility, but still, it was an idea that he might think better of spreading around too much.
So far, whoever was committing these crimes seemed non-violent. But that might change if he or she felt someone was getting close to the truth.
A shiver ran down her back. If she didn’t keep a clear mind on all of this, Rory’s ideas were going to scare her.
She cleared her throat and turned to Rory. “Just tell them I don’t have a statement for them at this time. And don’t tell them anything else, OK?”
He answered with a reluctant shrug and disappeared from the doorway.
Her eyes back on the papers, she stared at the mess in front of her. How would she ever get all of this sorted out?
“Good morning! Oh. . ..oh, Ellie, what a mess!”
Madge stood in the middle of the small room, hands on her cheeks, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“You’re telling me,” Ellie sighed. I’ve been picking things up and trying to sort them. But I’m not doing a very good job.”
Madge parked her briefcase on the faded blue sofa in the corner. “Then it’s a good thing I’m here. We’ll have it back to normal in no time at all,” she promised.
***
Ellie’s phone rang at eleven. “Farmhouse Finds, Ellie speaking.
“Good morning,” Gabe’s voice greeted her.
Her breath caught in her throat. After that moment early this morning, he was the last person she had expected to hear from today. Maybe it would be best to act like the kiss between them had never happened. But was she able to do that?
“Hi.” She should say something else. Anything. But nothing came to mind. All she could think of was being in his arms, his lips on hers. She resisted closing her eyes for the full affect.
“I’m going to be in town to pick up a few things to repair the door in mom’s closet. I thought. . .well, I was wondering if you’d like to meet me for lunch over at the diner?”
She hesitated. But if she declined, he might think she had read more into that kiss than she had. “Sure. Sounds great.” Old friend. But she could hardly add that to the sentence.
“Is eleven-thirty OK?”
“I’ll be there.”
***
Ellie entered the diner ten minutes early. She was glad to see that the back booth was empty. It was the only one not visible through the large windows that spanned the diner. When she had been a teenager, she had preferred the entertainment of sitting in front of the big glass windows, staring out at the activities of Main Street.
Though no one seemed to be headed that way, she made a fast scramble for the booth. Chances were high that someone would spot them there together, anyway, but no need to advertise, she decided, putting her purse on the table and scooting across the old leather seat.
A few minutes later, Gabe slid into the booth seat across from her. “Ellie, I was wrong.”
She stared. Well, that was one way to put it. But there was no need to be so rude. It wasn't like the kiss had meant that much. Or had it?
“I. . .” there must be something she could say. Something like, Oh, Gabe, that’s OK, I didn’t think a thing about the fact that you kissed me last night. But that wouldn’t be true. He may not have meant the kiss, but deep down, she had. And, embarrassing as it was, there was no way she was going to deny it.
She started over. “Well. . .I—”
“She’s not Rosa’s first cousin. She’s his!”
What? This couldn’t possibly be about the. . .“Madge? Is that what you mean?”
His face was serious, but his eyes were bright with excitement. “Right. Mom remembered this morning. She’s not Rosa’s cousin, she’s Charles’s cousin.”
Ellie sucked in her breath. “And that means—”
“She could be an heir,” he finished.
She sat back in the red leather booth seat, her mind racing with the conversation she’d had with Madge last week. At no time had she spoken of her relationship to the Sinclair family, other than being an employee.
“I just don’t understand why she didn’t mention that she was related,” Ellie stated.
Gabe reached for his glass of water and took a sip. “I think there must be a reason she didn’t mention it. Maybe an important one.”
Ellie shook her head in disbelief, thoughts of last night’s kiss now forgotten. “She’s been my friend for years. It just doesn’t make any sense.”
Gabe leaned across the table, his voice lowered. “She’s got to be hiding something.”
Madge? Sweet, simple, middle-aged Madge, tacky clothes and flamingo pink fingernails? Her main goal in life was to find another husband, or at least date as many men as possible before she died. It was too hard to believe. “You’ve got to be wrong, Gabe. Madge is. . .is. . .”
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “But maybe, just maybe, the Madge that you know is all a charade to fool you.”
Ellie stared. If she closed her eyes and he disguised his voice, he would be Rory, ever ready to believe and pass on a new conspiracy theory. “Really, Gabe, don’t you think that you’re being a little bit melodramatic about this? I mean, this is just a laid back country town, not a hot bed of underworld figures and drama.”
He gave a short laugh. “I didn’t mean to sound so dramatic. I just thought it was an interesting fact that she somehow forgot to mention to you. Don’t you think that’s odd?”
Ellie picked up the menu and glanced at the lunch special. “I agree, it is strange. But still, there must be some explanation.”
He opened his menu and nodded. “I’m sure there is. But you have to admit that it’s interesting. Your Rory may be on the right track.”
Ellie stared at the words on the page, but her thoughts were on her friend. Madge, a middle-aged blackmailer and burglar, her eyes on the Sinclair fortune. It was just too hard to believe.
“Have y’all decided what you want? The special today is the meatloaf platter. It’s our most popular of the week,” Faye reminded them. “You get a choice of corn or green beans. I’d recommend the green beans. I think Gilly got a little bit too much sugar in the corn today.”
“That sounds good to me, Flo,” Gabe grinned at her. “Make it the green beans, and I’ll have a large ice tea to go with it.”
That was what she had been going to order. Silly as it was, after last night’s impromptu kiss, it would make her too self-conscious to order the exact same as Gabe. No need for the man to think she was cozying up to him. She looked up. “I’ll have chicken and dumplings, and a large ice tea.”
“I’ll make sure you get extra dumplings,” she grinned at Ellie, taking the menus and hurrying on her way.
“So, have you had time to go through all those papers?” Gabe asked.
Ellie took an easy breath, glad that he had changed the subject. “I got started on them.” And then Madge showed up and finished for me. Somehow, saying that, only added fuel to the fire that Gabe had been building against Madge’s character. So, what if he was right? Had she handed evidence right over to the perpetrator?
In fact, now that she thought about it, Madge wasn’t even supposed to show up at the store until Wednesday. But there she had been, bright and early this beautiful Tuesday morning. And Ellie had never questioned it. She had just been glad for her friend’s help.
“Are you OK, Ellie?”
She snapped away from her thoughts and realized that she was unconsciously twisting a paper napkin with her fingers. It was wound so tight, it resembled a rope, ready to break. She dropped it on the table and offered a sheepish grin. “Yes. I’m fine. It’s just, well,
Madge is really the one that went through most of those papers, not me.” It was just a fact, but managed to feel more like a confession of a crime.
Gabe’s eyes widened. “You let her help you straighten up all that mess—all those papers?”
Ellie opened her mouth, then shut it as the food arrived.
“Now y’all let me know if you need anything,” Flo said, giving each of them an extra straw. “And don’t forget, it’s free apple pie for dessert on Tuesdays. When you’re ready, just wave me down.”
Ellie waited until she was out of earshot and the blessing Gabe said was finished. “I just wasn’t thinking, Gabe. And, I was looking through the papers. I think whoever it was just threw everything on the floor in their haste.”
Gabe nodded and swallowed a bite of his meatloaf. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It just surprised me that Madge showed up after I’ve been thinking about her relationship in the Sinclair business.”
Ellie reached for her tea. “If I had known, I might have reconsidered her help. But, she’s been such a good friend. I can’t imagine her as anything else.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you, Ellie. I’m sure you’re probably right. It’s just easy to get caught up in all the speculation,” he grinned.
Ellie gave a soft laugh. “I know. And when it’s all said and done, there’s no telling what kind of surprises we’ll find out.”
“Right. Speaking of surprises, that call I got just as I was seeing you and Danny home, was from my editor. Seems he sold a novel I wrote. Possibly two of them.”
Her eyes rounded. “Gabe! You never told me you write fiction. Congratulations! This must be so exciting for you. Tell me about the books.”
He shrugged and she watched as a red streak developed across his nose and both cheeks. A classic sign that Gabe Chandler was embarrassed.
“They’re both about soldiers returning home, you know, getting used to—” he stopped, his eyes on her. “Ellie, I’m sorry. I didn’t think. . .”
Christmas in Candle Cove Page 8
