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Authors: Kathleen Delaney

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BOOK: Ellen McKenzie 04-Murder Half-Baked
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Susannah and Neil left as soon as the last plate was placed in the dishwasher. Susannah pleaded the need to study for an upcoming test and Neil made vague comments about a term paper on the mammary glands of dairy cows that was due immediately.

“Coward.” I gave her a peck on the cheek.

She grinned. “Better you than me. You think it will really be two weeks?”

“At least.”

“Guess I’d better pack more clothes tomorrow.”

Nathan was the next to leave, but not before he’d followed Marilee up the stairs, holding the baby in the carrier. She had eaten almost nothing
,
and her face looked drawn and pale. His expression was grim when he came back down. “She should still be in the hospital. Resting. Enjoying that child. Not hiding out from that son of a

sorry.” He muttered thank you for the dinner, and he, too, was gone.

Dan walked in the front door as Nathan walked out.

“Any news?” Nathan asked.

Dan shook his head. Nathan hesitated, looked toward the staircase, sighed, and closed the door behind him.

That left Aunt Mary, Gina, Leona, Dan, and me.

Aunt Mary sat Dan down at the table and set the plate of food in front of him that we had been keeping warm.

“These potatoes are wonderful.”

“Forget the potatoes. Have you found Grady? Do you know any more?”

Fork halfway to his mouth, he looked at each of us in turn. “We’re working on it,” he said, his face expressionless. I knew that look. I gathered up the rest of the silverware and headed for the kitchen but was stopped by Leona.

“You mind if I watch TV?” She edged her way closer to the living room, ignoring the rumpled napkins and soiled tablecloth still to be removed from the dining room table. Gina and Susannah had already picked up all the plates and loaded the dishwasher. Aunt Mary and I had put away the few leftovers and wiped down the counters.

“No.” I gathered up the napkins and headed for the back porch and the washing machine. I’d get the tablecloth when Dan was finished.

“What do you want to watch?” I asked.

“There’s a rerun of
Bay Watch
on.”

It was also time for
Mystery
on PBS. It was the first episode of a dramatization of an Elizabeth George novel that I had been waiting to see. My resolve to get them the permits they needed and moved into the new house in no more than two weeks went up one more notch.

“Gina and I are going.” Aunt Mary’s voice right behind me made me jump.

I quit stuffing in napkins and turned around. “You don’t want to watch
Bay
Watch
?”

“No.” She grinned. “A few too many shapely thighs for me. It makes me lonely for the body I never had.” The smile faded. “Are you going to be okay? This is not easy. A wedding to plan, Christmas, people coming from all over
… T
hat alone is enough to give anyone a nervous breakdown

but add a houseful of refugees and a nut like Grady Wilcox running around throwing firebombs and
… I
t’s too much.”

“I love the way you put that. Makes me sound like
S
uper
Girl
or some kind of martyr.”

You’re neither,” she replied a bit tartly. “But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

I had to laugh, which felt nice. “You’re right. It’s not easy, but it isn’t for them either. Besides, you have one of the refugees. How are you and Gina getting along?”

She looked thoughtful. “Beautifully. She’s polite, considerate, and she’s teaching me how to make sourdough bread.”

“I have a few things to tell you about Gina.”

“You found Hermione?”

“I did.”

Aunt Mary looked toward the kitchen. It was empty but she dropped her voice anyway. “And

?”

“Sal and Rose’s daughter, the first Gina, had a baby. A girl. She died in childbirth and the baby was adopted.”

“In childbirth. So that’s how she died. I never quite believed that mononucleosis
,
damaged heart story. Poor thing. And that means this Gina really could be
…”

“I think she is. I think she came here looking for them. Why, I don’t know.” I paused. Just thinking about what I was going to tell her made me a little sick. It
would
be even harder for her. “Hermione says Gina’s mother bled to death right after the birth. She was at Doctor Sadler’s office. Sal wouldn’t let them get her to the hospital where she just might have been saved.”

“He what? Oh, no. You must be mistaken.” I watched the color drain out of her face. “Sal loved his girls
. H
e would never
…”
T
ears
welled up in
her eyes. I’d never seen Aunt Mary cry. I didn’t this time, either. She swiped them away angrily
.
“Dear God in heaven. He really did that?”

I nodded. “That’s what Hermione said
,
and she had no reason to lie.”

“And you think Gina found out and came back to
… Y
ou don’t really think
…” Aunt Mary was having trouble processing all this. I didn’t blame her. So was I. But she had one thing clear. “And Rose has lived with that all these years.”

“Yes.”

Aunt Mary shuddered and took in a deep mouthful of air. “And the baby?”

“Adopted. Doctor Sadler arranged the whole thing before she ever gave birth. Gina wanted to keep it, but Sal wouldn’t hear of it. He didn’t want anyone to know his daughter had disgraced him.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. She didn’t have to. Sal and Rose were her friends, had been for years. The thought that Sal could stand by and let his daughter die rather than have the neighbors know
… T
hat was something you read about in Victorian novels, not something your neighbor, your friend, would do. I could see her struggling with it. I wanted to say something, do something to make it easier, but there was nothing. If only I hadn’t told her
. B
ut I’d had to. Gina was staying with her, Gina was staying in this town, and I was sure the reason she had come was rooted in that long ago tragedy. And now, one of the people involved in that tragedy was dead.

Gina’s voice brought her back to life. “Mary, are you ready? Oh

I didn’t mean

are you all right? ”

“Fine.” Aunt Mary didn’t look fine, and the look she gave Gina was a mixture of all kinds of emotions.

“We were just talking about Marilee.” I quickly dumped soap in the washing machine and closed the lid. Where that lie
had
c
o
me from so easily I didn’t know, but I was grateful. “We’re both a little shook up by this whole thing. It’s all so awful. That poor girl.”

I twirled the knob and started the machine. On which cycle I had no idea and I didn’t care. My lie seemed to be working. Gina was nodding.

“Do you really think Grady threw that firebomb hoping to get her when she ran out?”

Gina’s face went blank for a moment
,
and she just stared at me. Whatever she’d thought I was going to say, it wasn’t that. “I really don’t know. It’s hard to believe anyone could be that dumb. What if she hadn’t gotten out or
…”

Or what if she hadn’t gotten the money out
?
Gina didn’t have to finish that sentence. I
could see it on her face. She knew about the money and she was sure he had set Grace House on fire.

“Mary, are you ready? I still need to put that cake together tonight.” She handed me the tablecloth and turned to go.

“What cake?” Why was she making

the layers on Aunt Mary’s counter. “Did you make those layers I saw today? They smelled wonderful. What are they and what did you pour over them?”

Gina smiled. “Espresso. Real Italian espresso. They’re sponge cake and I’m making Tiramisu. A very special one for one of our

Sal and Rose’s old customers.”

Gina turned to go and Aunt Mary started to follow her. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll call you.”

I reached out and grabbed her arm. “Wait. Gina’s making it? Not Sal?”

She looked at me a little pityingly. “Gina’s made all of the special things that have appeared in that bakery lately. I thought you’d figured that out by now.” She turned on her heel and hurried through the kitchen.

I stared after her, still holding the tablecloth. Of course. Why hadn’t I seen it? Sal was short of breath just walking from the kitchen to the front of the store. Baba au Rhum, Lemon Semolina Cake, flaky, buttery pie crust

Sal couldn’t make any of those.
But Gina

what was she after? If all she’d wanted was to find her family, to see where she came from, she’d done that. She hadn’t, to my knowledge, announced to Sal or Rose that she was their granddaughter. So what did she want? Whatever it was, it wasn’t baking instruction.

I stuffed the tablecloth in the washing machine and headed back to the living room and
Bay
Watch
.

Aunt Mary had better count on that phone call tomorrow. We had a lot to talk about.

 

Chapter Twenty-Eight
 

“W
hy didn’t we bring over my little TV?”

Dan sat on the edge of the bed, looking at a corner of the chest of drawers, three drawers of which now contained his clothes, the top of which didn’t hold a TV.

“We’ll get it tomorrow.”

“Right. But what are we going to do tonight? It’s too early to go to bed. To sleep.”

The last part was said with a leer, which I ignored. “It’s ten o’clock. If you’re not sleepy, you could read a book.”

Dan looked around the room. “You only have those sappy mysteries you read. Don’t you have a Tom Clancy or something?”

“You’re in a good mood.” I walked over to the bookshelf and picked out a Dick Francis. “Read this. You’ll love it.”

He opened it, read the inside cover blurb, and shut it. I couldn’t believe it. How could anyone not read Dick Francis once they’d opened the book?

“I’ll start it later.”

He got up, went to the window, stared out, dropped the curtain back down, crossed the room to stare at the phone, then crossed back over to the bed, sat, and immediately got back up.

“What’s the matter with you? Ever since you’ve come home you’ve been

is it the Christmas lights? I didn’t know they were going to do that and I certainly didn’t know about that awful Santa Clause and the reindeer. We can
… ”

“Christmas lights? No. Of course not.” He started to grin. “You should see the look on your face. You look just like Mary when she’s not happy with someone. I sort of like the Santa. Of course, if he were driving that sleigh on the street, I’d have to pull him over for a sobriety test. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it? You’re strung so tight I could twang you.”

Dan didn’t say anything for a minute. “We’ve had some lab results on what started the fire.”

“Oh.” I took a deep breath. “And?”

“It was pretty much what we thought. A glass bottle filled with gasoline. He stuffed a rag in it, then lit the rag and threw the bottle over the fence. He doesn’t have much of an arm. It hit the side of the garage instead of the window, which was probably the target. If it had gotten inside, the fire would have spread a lot more quickly.”

“Meaning they might not have gotten out in time?”

“Meaning that’s a possibility.”

I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Also meaning you’re convinced it was Grady. So, if you already know that, why are you so jumpy? Just go pick him up.”

From the look on Dan’s face, I was afraid it wasn’t quite that easy. I was right.

“If we could find him, we would.” There was bitterness in Dan’s tone that I had
n’t
heard
before
.
Bitterness and frustration. “How a little punk like that—somebody’s helping him. Someone’s given him a hole to hide in, from us and from his

buddies.

But he can’t stay there forever. And when he crawls out

I hope we get to him first.”

I wasn’t so sure I did. If Dan got him, he’d only go to jail. If his “buddies” found him, well, if what I’d heard was true, Grady Wilcox might not bother anyone anymore.

“Why do you keep looking out the window? Do you think he might
…?”

Dan let the curtain drop back over the window and came back over to sit beside me on the bed. “No.” He paused, glanced over at me, took my hand and stroked it lightly. “I don’t know.” His thumb kept tracing patterns on the back of my hand. He meant it to be comforting, I knew, but instead it was distracting. “There were a lot of people there, around that fire, who knew we took Marilee to our house. Someone told Grady she was at Grace House, and that someone could very well know she’s here as well.” He paused, both stroking and talking. I was pretty sure he wanted to go on with the stroking, and that he didn’t want to say what he was about to say.

“Grady is a punk, in every sense of the word. He’s also not very bright; most of them aren’t. In addition to selling, he’s using. And he’s managed to run up a very big bill. The money Marilee took was to pay that bill.”

I could feel myself go cold. I really knew all this, or certainly suspected it, but to hear Dan lay it out so clearly

“How do you know all this?”

“The idiot went to The Watering Hole after the fire. After a few beers, he started complaining how his great plan didn’t work out and how he was going to have to think of something else.” Dan looked at my hand. “Or did you mean the part about the money?”

I gulped a little. “That part. How do you know that?”

He touched the index finger of my left hand and smiled. “A wedding ring is going to look nice on your hand.” He stretched out his own hand. “Won’t look too bad on this one either.” He sat quietly for a minute. “Are you sure you don’t want an engagement ring?”

“Yes. No. Yes, I’m sure. Just a plain band, one that matches yours. Dan. How do you know, for sure, that these drug people are after Grady?”

“Moles.”

“What?”

He smiled. “Not the kind that wreck the lawn.” His smile disappeared. “Our county, and all the police departments in it, try to work together to

get rid of these people. One way is to plant someone inside, someone who feeds us information. We’ve known about Grady for a while, but he’s pretty small. We were hoping to prune this particular tree a little higher.”
He dropped my hand, got up, and walked over to the window. “Looks like we’re going to get our rain after all.”

I wiggled off the bed to stand beside him, staring out the window. The clouds were lower, dark, partly obscuring the street light down the block. I watched as the first small drops fell, barely dampening the sidewalk. The wind had kicked up, blowing the few remaining leaves around in circles, bending the bare branches of the elm tree in my front yard in a bizarre dance. It was the kind of scene you see in movies right before something horrible happens.

Finally Dan spoke. “Have you had a chance to talk to Marilee? I thought you were going to call me.” He didn’t sound mad, but not exactly happy either.

“Oh. No. I keep trying, but I can’t seem to get her alone, then I went to see Winifred and everything else happened and
… O
h, Dan. I’m so sorry. I forgot.” I felt terrible, as if I’d let him down. And I had. He’d asked me to do something and
I hadn’t. Things happened, and I forgot. If
I’d
forgotten to do something for Brian, he would have thrown it up to me for months. Years. Dan brought it up because he was concerned, for me, for Marilee, for all of us. It made me feel worse.

He put his arm around me and gently squeezed. I slipped mine around his waist and leaned into him. “It’s all right. But next time, keep in touch, all right? I worry about you.” He pulled me close and
placed
a feather
-
soft kiss on my check. “She probably couldn’t help us much anyway, but I’d like to know if she got that money out or if it burned up.”

“Would it make a difference?”

“If we could somehow get the word to Grady that the money was gone, he might be less interested in chasing her.”

Maybe. If he believed it was really gone. I couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through my body. Grady Wilcox was taking up
far too much of my time and energy. A
nd
although I’d never laid eyes on the man, I
already
despise
d
him.

Dan and I
stood close together, watching the rain make puddles on the front walk that glowed red, green, blue, like little pools of luminous paint.

“I should go down and turn off the Christmas lights.” Dan said.

“What do you suppose happens to Santa when he gets wet?”

Dan laughed. “Not much. If you’re hoping that tipsy grin will wash off, I think you’re out of luck.” He started to turn but I tightened my hand on his arm. He stopped and I took a deep breath.

“Dan, after lunch today I went to visit Doctor Sadler’s old nurse. It’s one of the reasons I forgot to call you. She’s at Shady Acres, confined to a wheelchair, but there’s nothing wrong with her brain. She told me some things you ought to know.”

His arm tightened around me about halfway through my story. He held me so close against him I could barely breathe.
After
I’d finished,
he didn’t speak immediately, just
watch
ed
the rain. Finally he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The things we do to each other.”

I let my head rest on his shoulder for a moment. “Do you think Gina could have killed Doctor Sadler? I know it doesn’t seem possible, but then, why would she come here if not for revenge of some sort?”

“Gina doesn’t seem the revenge type, but if I’ve learned anything in all these years of police work, it’s that people surprise you. All the time. However, if that’s why she’s here, why not Sal? He was the one who let her mother die.”

“I don’t know. But someone killed him, and unless it was someone who just happened to find an angel arm and thought it would be fun to bash in an old man’s head, the people at Grace House seem to have a corner on motives.”

“Grady because he wanted to find Marilee, Gina for revenge

I still can’t believe Sal

and who else? Marilee was in no condition to wander around cemeteries lying in wait for old men
. B
esides
,
all she had to do was not sign the release papers.”

The rain was coming down harder, throwing itself against the window, leaving streaks on the glass. I could see Dan’s reflection in the glow of the Christmas lights. He seemed to be waiting, for what? Another name? Leona came to mind, but he had already refused to believe her need for that baby was anything more than a normal woman’s wanting to help. Leona wasn’t normal. But it was another name I was thinking of. Anne Kennedy. Only I couldn’t make myself really believe that either. And I couldn’t say it.

“I’m going to use the bathroom before Leona comes up.” I stretched and turned away from the window.

“Good idea. I’ll run down and turn off the lights.”

Dan started down the stairs and I gathered up my nightgown and slippers and headed down the hall the other way. I stopped at Marilee’s door and listened. All was quiet. I hoped it stayed that way. The television was still blaring away downstairs so I figured I had plenty of time. A shower? No. In the morning.

I exited the bathroom just in time. Leona was coming up the stairs, a rebellious look on her face, followed closely by Dan.

“Would you like to use the bathroom first?” His tone was oh, so polite, but his patience was wearing thin. I’d known him a long time. I could tell. Leona couldn’t.

“Letterman wasn’t over.”

Was she addressing me?

BOOK: Ellen McKenzie 04-Murder Half-Baked
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