Silver Six Crafting Mystery 01 - Basket Case (24 page)

SIX PAIRS OF GUILTY GAZES MET MINE.

Sherry’s baby blues blinked at me from the floor where she’d fallen when she’d fake swooned.

“Let me get to the parlor,” she said, “and I’ll explain.”

“I still recommend that you go to the hospital, Mrs. Cutler,” the paramedic said as he closed his black satchel. “You’re gonna have a powerful goose egg on your head for sure.”

“Pooh. I’ve already been in the ER this week. Once is enough. I’ll rest, I’ll use the ice pack you gave me, I’ll be fine.”

The paramedic helped Sherry stand, then Detective Shoar stepped in. Not one of the roommates looked at me as he led Sherry from the kitchen. I didn’t know where Trudy and all the officers and deputies had gone, and I didn’t care. I needed to find out what was wrong with Sherry.

She sat in the center of the sofa I’d been sleeping on. Aster arranged sofa pillows at her back, and Maise settled an afghan over her legs. The other three—Eleanor, Dab, and Fred—stood behind the couch.

Behind Sherry. Backing her up like bodyguards.

I pulled up an ottoman and took Sherry’s hands in mine. “Whatever it is, please tell me.”

Sherry’s eyes grew teary, but she held her chin high. “First, you can stop imagining worst cases. I don’t have cancer or heart disease or anything else potentially fatal.”

“Then what do you have?”

“Macular degeneration, child. It’s only in my left eye, and when I let my bangs fall over to cover it, I focus just fine using my right eye. I’m being treated, but there is the chance I could become legally blind.”

I’m not sure whose hands shook more as I digested that.

“When did you get the diagnosis? Are you seeing a good doctor?”

“A specialist in Texarkana diagnosed me about eight months ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know you’d come to visit. When you did, I was afraid to tell you.”

“Afraid of what?” I managed to say past the clog in my throat.

“Afraid,” Fred snarled, his complexion gaining color by the second, “you’d have some fool notion of making her move to Houston with you.”

“Afraid,” Maise jumped in, “you’d want to put her in a home.”

“But I wouldn’t do that,” I said, squeezing her hands. “I wouldn’t make you move anywhere.”

“Well, we weren’t to know that,” Fred snapped.

“She manages fine,” Dab said as he laid his hand on her shoulder. “And I’m working on an herbal blend she can use as eye drops.”

“That’s why you want a working still?” Eleanor asked while Aster blurted, “That’s your secret project?”

“Dab, that’s so sweet.” Sherry reached up to pat his hand, then turned back to me.

“I don’t want you to think you have to take care of me, Nixy. You’re young, you have a job you love, and you already know we Six take care of each other.”

“Yes, and you do an excellent job of it, but I hope you won’t mind if I visit often. Houston is only about six hours away.”

“Unless you have a lead foot,” Shoar said from behind me, and I startled because I’d forgotten he was there, “But, Nixy, I need you to stay in town a few more days until I can wrap up loose ends.”

“Trudy, too, I imagine,” Sherry said.

“Trudy, too.”

I sighed and stood to face him. “Do you need Aunt Sherry’s statement right now?”

“Matter of fact, I need to get Trudy’s first. I can come back for Miz Sherry Mae’s statement later today.”

“Stay for dinner when you do,” Maise offered.

“Okay, then,” I said, “let’s reorganize. Sherry, you need to put that ice pack back on and rest. Maise can make tea, and Aster, I’m sure your lavender would help.”

“I’ll spray it all over the house, and I’ll smudge, too.”

“You ain’t burnin’ that stuff while I’m inside,” Fred grumped. “Me and Eleanor’ll help Dab with the still.”

“Great, but let’s get the kitchen in order first.”

Shoar cleared his throat. “I’m afraid not. I have the crime scene techs on standby right outside, and they’ll need the space.”

“I forgot about that. Can Maise make tea?”

“Tell you what. Brief me on where Hardy stood, what he touched, and I’ll have the team cover the areas Maise needs to use first. After that, give them an hour to wrap up.”

“That works,” Maise said. “Come along, Sherry. Let’s get you upstairs. Why, I’ll bet Aster has an herb that will help keep down the swelling and pain.”

“Comfrey,” Aster confirmed as she moved to Sherry’s other side. “Just the ticket for bumps and bruises and broken noggins.”

Left alone with Eric, I arched a brow. “Ready to debrief me?”

He smiled. “Watch it. You’re beginning to sound like Maise.”

“I could do worse.”

“I guess you could. Let’s go.”

He called in his team, and they stood by in the back hall as I gave Eric the rundown on where Bryan had stood, what he’d touched, and what I surmised he’d touched.

“I thought you didn’t see him,” Eric said at one point.

“I did when he went to the cupboard. Otherwise, I saw glimpses of him and tracked him by sound.”

Eric squeezed my hand. “You sorry you didn’t get to brain Hardy to kingdom come?”

“Yes and no. Prison is a better punishment.”

“That it is.”

•   •   •

WHILE THE CRIME SCENE TECHS WERE BUSY IN THE
kitchen, I straightened the parlor and dining room, then cleaned the downstairs bathroom and gathered damp towels. I did everything possible to avoid thinking about the long-term ramifications of Sherry’s eye disease.

Sherry was right and wrong about my job. I had loved it, and if I got that promotion, I’d love it again. Love it more. But I’d also come to love Sherry, Eleanor, Fred, Aster, Dab, and Maise. They did look out for each other. They’d divided chores to suit their strengths. I knew now that they were light-years from senile, and that they were physically healthy overall.

They’d created a family of the heart, and I would put my own butt in a home before I put Sherry in one. She didn’t need it. She wouldn’t qualify.

And yet, as the Six aged, would they still be able to care for each other? Perhaps they’d do just as well as they did now. Mrs. Gilroy shone as an example of advanced-age independence. How she got normal household supplies, never mind that TV, was a mystery, but she did it. The Six could be as fortunate.

Or they could not be.

And what then?

The techs kindly told me they were leaving, and confirmed we could clean and restore the kitchen to our hearts’ content. Before the van left the gravel drive, Dab, Fred, and Eleanor swarmed inside, and we set to work righting the kitchen. The four of us wiped fingerprint dust from the counters and cabinet doors, swept and mopped the floor, and got the table and chairs back where they belonged. I shuddered when I spotted the bullet hole in the wall. The shot Hardy had fired missed shattering the window by no more than a foot.

“I’ll spackle that and repaint,” Fred declared, and darned if he didn’t pull the supplies out of his overalls and his walker tool belt.

I don’t know what came over me, but I giggled.

“What’s funny?” Fred barked.

“You. You’re a walking hardware store.”

“’Course I am. I’m Fix-It Fred.”

“I’ll bet you’ve got a tiny can of paint in that tool belt.”

He peered into a belt pocket. “Yep, I do. Wanna see it?”

This time I laughed and kept laughing until tears came.

“Here now, missy,” Fred grumbled. “We’ll have none of that.”

He clanked his walker nearer, dangled a large white handkerchief in my face. When I took it, he pulled out a chair and sat at the table.

“You saved Sherry,” he said quietly. “You should be proud.”

I met his eyes, hiccupping back another sob. “No, Fred. You saved her. The door to the basement didn’t make a sound when I opened it. If it had squeaked even a little, Hardy would have heard it and killed all of us.”

“Nah, Shoar had the kitchen under surveillance the whole time.”

“He did?”

“So did we. We was all in hunkered in the trees. Shoar wouldn’t share his binoculars, though. Dab had to hotfoot it back to the car for his.”

I sat back on my heels and stared. “You were all watching the house?”

“Sun was high enough, we could see right into the kitchen without the glare.” He paused. “’Course, we ain’t got no SWAT folks here. I guess you coulda been shot before Shoar got to you and the others.”

That bubbled a laugh out of me, which earned a full-fledged smile from Fred.

“Gotta get back to work. You wanna learn to spackle?”

“Why not?”

•   •   •

NEIGHBORS AND FRIENDS BEGAN COMING BY WITH
trouble food, and I let the seniors deal with visitors. I didn’t want to talk about Bryan Hardy again until absolutely necessary. Like at his trial.

While trotting to and from the basement to run loads of laundry, I retrieved the basket Trudy wanted to buy. I phoned her to be sure she still wanted it. She was still at the police station, so the call went through, and she gave me her code to the back entrance of the inn so I could meet her in an hour. Then took the basket straight to my car parked out by the barn.

I couldn’t help but wonder how Sherry could possibly crochet and weave her baskets or braid these handles with her vision impaired. Yes, I’d looked up macular degeneration on my tablet. I hadn’t grasped all I’d read, but I wanted to go with her to her next appointment.

I stood near the chain-link fence, staring at the azalea bushes but not seeing them. My mind’s eye saw Sherry instead. The joy in her eyes, the animation in her gestures as she recited the Stanton family stories. She’d sparkled, and I wanted her to keep her spark. More, I wanted to see it. If that meant coming to Lilyvale every single weekend, so be it. I could always stay at the inn.

Meantime, I needed to fold the last load of towels, peek in on Sherry, and let the ladies know I was meeting Trudy.

As I turned, I heard, “Sissy!” from right behind me.

I’m sure my eyes bugged out as I whirled around because Mrs. Gilroy, who from all reports never came out of her house, stood at the chain-link fence.

“Hi, Mrs. Gilroy. You do know my name is Nixy, not Sissy.”

“Got your attention, didn’t I? I called the cops when I saw that Hardy character show up this morning.”

“You have a phone? I don’t remember seeing one in your house.”

She gave me a
duh
look. “I have an iPhone.”

I blinked. “How did you get it?”

“I ordered it over the Internet, of course. Don’t you e-shop?”

“Apparently not as much as you do.”

“Anyway, it was the blue gloves that tipped me off that Hardy was up to no good. You be sure to tell that detective. If he wants to ask me questions, I’ll let him in.”

I had to grin. “First me, now Detective Shoar? Where will the madness end, Mrs. G?”

She shook her finger at me but her eyes twinkled. “Sassy. Just like your great-great-great-aunt Sissy. You deliver my message to the detective.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She toddled off across the yard, arms pumping. The woman was in scary-good shape. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d ordered gym equipment from the Internet. Who knew what she had stashed in the front bedroom I hadn’t seen.

And, come on. An iPhone? How had she gotten service activated without going to a store?

•   •   •

MY MEETING WITH TRUDY WAS SHORT. PARKED IN
the near-vacant lot behind the inn, I punched Trudy’s code into the keypad and found her in the second en suite room the inn boasted. A large suitcase piled with clothes lay open on the bed.

“Hey, Nixy, thanks for coming,” she said as she handed me a twenty-dollar bill that had lain on the chest of drawers.

“After all that’s happened, I was concerned you wouldn’t want the basket. I’m glad you do.”

“This basket will be my best memory of Lilyvale.”

“Yours? I thought it was a gift for Jeanette.”

“I’m buying her something else.” She paused a beat. “Your aunt was a wonder today, wasn’t she? How is she doing?”

“She’ll be fine, and I hope you are, too.”

“I was frightened out of my wits, but your aunt gave me courage. Now I just want to be home, and with luck I’ll get to leave tomorrow.”

“Then good luck.”

I let myself out and started to go to my car, then realized I’d never picked up the photocopying. I didn’t remember if the office center had Sunday hours, but I noticed a few stores were open as I circled the square. With all the food that neighbors brought, Maise and Aster had dinner handled in spades, and I needed some time alone.

Sunglasses diffusing the midafternoon sun, I went up the alley, crossed to the next block, and passed a few closed stores. Most of the buildings in this stretch housed CPA and attorneys’ offices. I supposed Dinah’s was here. Bryan Hardy’s? Not any longer.

As I suspected, Gaskin’s was closed, but Vonnie’s antiques store was open, and she happened to be standing outside. She lit up when she saw me.

“Nixy, is Sherry Mae well? What an ordeal I heard you had this morning!”

“She’s got a small cut and a bump on her head, but she’s fine, thank you. How is your closeout sale going?”