Family Matters (8 page)

T
he four of them gathered in Gracie’s office to assess the day’s damage. Everybody had grabbed a can of Coke or a bottle of water and were all looking expectantly at Jim. He cleared his throat and adjusted his baseball cap.

“OK, folks
, let’s see where we stand.” Jim said wearily. “Marian, did you see how Beth got bitten?”

“No. I found her when she started screaming. Barney and Smokey were running loose in corridor C, but they weren’t fighting. Barney cowered down when I called him.” Marian’s expression showed the day had taken a toll on her as well.

“Joe, where were you when this all got started?”

“I was hosing out runs in the other hallway, is it B?”

“Yeah, it’s B, Joe. Did you see anything?”

“No, I called 9-1-1 when Marian yelled to me. It all happened
kinda fast.” Joe systematically cracked the knuckles on his left hand, flexing it when he reached the ring finger.

“Sure is a heck of a way to start a new job, huh, Joe?” Jim’s attempt at humor fell flat.

Gracie was scribbling notes on a yellow legal pad. “I’m going to need a boatload of detail for the insurance company. Beth has a nasty wound on her thigh.” She concentrated on pad of paper. “The insurance company is sure going to love us. This will probably put our rates through the roof.”

Jim lifted his baseball cap and ran his fingers over his sweat-soaked hair.

“I’ll go check on those two dogs, while you finish up getting the details from Marian and Joe.” He adjusted his hat and left the office without his customary whistling.

Gracie finished getting the information necessary for the insurance claim from the two subdued employees and let them
return to work. With just an hour to go before closing, Marian and Joe had a lot to do. She could hear Jim and Joe feeding dogs and Marian finishing up the last grooming. Gracie painfully made the call to Milky Way’s insurance agent.

“I figured I’d be hearing from you,” Howard Stroud, the insurance agent, said brusquely.

“Sorry it’s so soon again. How’d you know I’d be calling?”

“I heard the call on my scanner, so I’ve been waiting for you to let me know what happened. You got all the information?”

In her mind’s eye, Gracie could see Howard leaning back in his ancient squeaky swivel chair, one pudgy hand on a well-developed paunch, the other hand smoothing his careful comb-over. He’d be looking down through his reading glasses and chewing on a disheveled cigar. Howard had given up smoking, but not cigars. Gracie heard a crackle as he adjusted his headset. He wore a headset to answer the phone, since he’d decided that his secretary had become too expensive. His wife, Polly, who was his secretary, said Howard was just too cheap and had gone to work for the competition in Warsaw.

“I’ve got a report from Marian
Majewski and Joe Youngers, but not from Beth Simmons yet,” Gracie said. “I’m going to check with her parents a little later tonight to see when I can talk to her and get that form filled out.”

“Is she OK?”

“Not sure how’s she’s doing, but she seemed to be calming down and doing OK by the time the squad left. It’s not life-threatening, but the leg was bleeding pretty good. I’m hoping there’s no real damage.”

“Well, get that stuff to me as soon as you can tomorrow. I’m headed out on vacation next week, so I’d like to get it moving before I go.”

“I’ll be over as soon as I can in the morning. Thanks, Howard.”

“See you in the a.m., kid.”

Gracie sat with her head in her hands, wondering why she had ever thought a kennel business was a good idea. Apparently, the string of misery that had started with Michael’s death almost two years ago was continuing. She slammed her fist on the desk and mentally screamed at God to give her a break. This whole suffering thing was out of hand. Jim must think he’d gotten himself into the partnership from hell. The first three months had gone so well and now, everything was going wrong and headed down the toilet. They might as well forget trying to build the training barn and agility course next year. They’d be out of business by then. Gracie tried to stop her thoughts from careening down this angry road of depressing scenarios. She heard the bell jingle in the reception area and Marian’s voice calling for her to help with a dog pickup. Gracie took a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face before she reached the reception area.

Gracie and Jim were in their usual places in the office, but there was no relaxing tonight. Jim sat on the edge of the recliner’s worn seat, and Gracie was tapping her foot on the base of the desk chair. Haley chewed methodically on a large rawhide in front of the desk. They had finished talking with Beth’s parents and the dogs’ owners about an hour ago. Everyone was trying to appear understanding and cooperative, but Gracie and Jim knew that could disappear as fast as kibble. Dog owners and parents were going to
cover their backsides and wallets on this. Milky Way Kennels would take the fall before any of them would.

“I still don’t understand why Beth took two dogs at the same time. She’s been told to take dogs one at a time to the play area.”

“Well, from what Frank said, Beth was trying to cover the phones, and keep playtimes on schedule. Marian was in the middle of clipping the Harwood’s poodle, so Beth thought she’d take as many as she could handle at once to the play area. She was actually trying to get one more out of a run at the time of the accident.”

“Neither of those dogs is aggressive with people or other dogs, so I still don’t get it.” Gracie’s voice was edgy. “Beth must have done something to get it started.”

“I don’t know what. She’s been pretty good about handling dogs the way we’ve trained her to. She made a greenhorn mistake. At least she’s doing all right and should go home tomorrow. She’ll have some pain for a while, but there’s no permanent damage.”

“And the dogs are all right too. I guess we can thank the Lord for small favors on that one,” Gracie grudgingly gave in.

“We’re going to have to do some damage control on the PR side of this, Chief.”

“No kidding. Plus we need to find a good kennel helper since Beth won’t be coming back.”

“I guess I don’t blame her on that one. She is just a kid, and she was a little afraid of the dogs anyways.” Jim eased back into the junky recliner, his jaw relaxing slightly.

“We need to get someone with animal experience of some sort. I made a mistake on getting teenage help this summer.” Gracie was angry with herself. She prided herself on good hires, and both teenagers hadn’t lasted a month.

“Why don’t we post the job on that Deer Creek Help Wanted website?”

“That’s probably a good idea. I’ll get something written up and posted tonight. These incident reports will go to Howard in the morning and then I’ll spend the rest of the day here.”

The phone rang and startled them both.

“Milky Way Kennels,” Gracie answered hesitantly.

“Gracie, I’ve been trying to call you all day.”

It was Isabelle. Gracie grimly tightened her hold on the receiver.

“Listen, Isabelle, I really don’t have time to talk.”

“Yes, you do, and you can’t go on avoiding me about those books. I’ll be at your house in the morning to pick them up. Have them ready.” Isabelle’s dark tone was almost menacing.

“If it’s so important, they’ll be on the steps outside the kitchen door.”

“All right then. It’s about time you were reasonable.” Isabelle voice became sugary. It was her condescending inflection that Gracie hated so much.

“Whatever.” Gracie slammed the phone down with frustration.

“Ah, the pain-in-the-butt cousin finally caught up with you, huh?’ Jim smirked, and his deep blue eyes flashed with humor. He eased the recliner back all the way.

“Don’t get comfortable, and don’t think she’s getting what she wants,” Gracie snapped.

“Hey,
Chief, we’ve all had a bad day. Don’t take your family troubles out on me too.”

“Sorry, but she’s not getting her way. I still have some leverage in this.”

“Gracie, you need to take it easy on her. She’s just lost her mother. Have some mercy.”

“Yeah, I know I should, but I still need to talk to Uncle Stan. He wanted me to have this stuff for some reason.” Gracie pulled the center desk drawer out and found a brush.

“He’s a sick, sad old man. He probably doesn’t even know what he’s doing anymore, although he likes to tweak Isabelle.” Jim grinned.

“He knows what’s going on,” Gracie said defensively. “I just need to find out what he wants me to do with Charlotte’s stuff. I’ll see him tomorrow night at the VFW. It’s poker night, and he never misses. Isabelle won’t go in the place, so we can talk safely.”

“Good grief, you’re making this all pretty dramatic. Have you been watching reruns of
Murder, She Wrote
?”

Gracie brushed her tangled hair smooth and clipped it back above the nape of her neck.

“We’ll see what Uncle Stan says. If it was a mistake, I’ll hand over the goods to Isabelle. But I don’t think he made a mistake no matter how much beer he had. I’ll bet money on it.”

“All right then.” Jim shifted the recliner to the upright position. “Let’s make a little wager.
How about twenty bucks and a fish fry from Midge’s?”

“You’re on, Jimmy, my friend.” Gracie laughed for the first time that day.

True to her word, Gracie plunked the bag of books on the steps and headed out to file the accident reports with Howard first thing Friday morning. She had filled a bag with the old romance novels. There was no way Isabelle would get the other things back that easily. Besides she wanted those dog books for her collection, and Isabelle would no doubt throw them in the garbage.

She was relieved to see that the bag was gone when she returned from her errands. Isabelle had apparently tried to pump Marian for further information, but since she knew nothing about the books, Isabelle had hit a road block. However, a tersely written note was waiting on Gracie’s desk. It read,
“I know there are more things. I will call you later. Isabelle.”

Gracie crumpled the note and threw it away. The rest of the day flew by helping Marian handle grooming appointments, along with drop-offs and pick-ups. Some customers were pointedly expressing their displeasure with Milky Way hiring incompetent help. They weren’t sure they could trust the safety of their dogs to a place that had gotten robbed and had a major dog bite incident all in one week. Others were sure that a nasty lawsuit would ensue, and the kennel would probably go under. Gracie and Marian patiently smoothed ruffled feathers and assured each one that it was an anomaly, and they were beefing up the staff right away. Gracie also handed out a coupon for a free day of room and board to everyone who came through
the door. By closing time, Marian and Gracie were exhausted.

“I don’t know how to thank you for today, Marian. You’re
a lifesaver.” Gracie leaned back in her chair and propped her feet on the desk.

“No problem, but I’m going to need a long, hot bath tonight. My husband better be cooking supper or getting takeout, because I am one tired old woman.” Marian was reclining in the Jim’s ratty chair. “I don’t think I can take too many days like today, Gracie.”

“I hope we don’t have any more days like this, ever.”

Jim walked through the door, and Marian made an effort to get up.

“Don’t move, Marian. I’ll get the chair out of reception. Keep your feet up.”

Marian relaxed back into the chair, and Jim rolled the task chair from the reception area into the office.

“Well, ladies, did we survive the onslaught of dissatisfied customers?”

“I think so. Marian is a wonder woman at customer relations. We did get a few cancellations though. Most of them said they were going to Bark-n-Lounge in Pike.”

“Well, I guess it’s not unexpected. Did we get any hits on the website posting?”

Marian yawned and pulled the side handle to bring the chair back upright.

“You two have a lot to talk about, and this tired old mama is going home.” She stretched her back from side to side and got up with an audible groan.

“Get some rest, Marian. You’re the best. You will be back on Monday, right?” Gracie asked anxiously.

“Don’t worry. I will, but let’s try to have a less exciting week.”

“I’m with you on that one.” Jim stretched his well-muscled and tanned arms over his head and pushed them
back against the wall. “We’ll see you Monday, and thanks, Marian.”

Jim and Gracie listened to her old pickup truck chug out of the driveway.

“We’re sure lucky that Marian is here right now.” Gracie twirled a pencil on a yellow legal pad. “And no, we didn’t get any hits on the site today.”

“We
are
lucky. Let’s hope we can keep her on board for a while. People know and trust her, so we’ve got that advantage. When she retired from Pawsitively Puppies, they had a heck of a time replacing her. I’m hoping we can find another gem like Marian.” Jim leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees. “I’m beat, plus I’m supposed to meet Laney at Midge’s and then head out for a movie. Can you lock up?”

Laney was Jim’s latest girlfriend. They’d been dating for about six months, and so far, he hadn’t made excuses to break dates, like he usually did when things started to get serious. From what Gracie had seen of Laney, she was an approved girlfriend. She gave Jim the breathing room he needed, but they were spending more and more time together. He stood and rolled the chair back to reception.

“No problem. I’m picking up fish fries from Midge’s and taking them to my parents. They got back this afternoon. I’m going to try to see Uncle Stan too. We’re only at half capacity tonight, so it won’t take me long to do bed checks and set the alarm.”

Gracie locked up the day’s receipts in the small safe under her desk. Jim was already headed out the driveway, his disintegrating muffler marking his progress down the road when she made her rounds to see that everybody was secure, had water, and looked comfy. Haley, who had been sleeping in reception most of the afternoon, sniffed and licked muzzles on her way down the corridors. Satisfied that everyone was settled, Gracie punched in the security
code and locked the front door. Haley ran ahead to the kitchen door, anxious to get to her supper bowl.

Her parents looked surprisingly relaxed and well-tanned when she opened the kitchen’s screen door, carrying the pile of take-out containers. Her mother’s gray and fading auburn hair looked freshly done. It was a new cut, but no new color. Theresa had recently announced she was done being a slave to the monthly coloring drill. Her father was in stone-colored Dockers and a blue golf shirt that complimented his wavy silver hair.

The fish was excellent, as always, and Gracie updated her parents between bites on the events of the past week—funeral, Isabelle, robbery, and bite incident. Bob Clark looked at his daughter with concerned eyes.

“Are you doing all right then, Gracie?”

“Well, I’ve had some moments, but I think it’s under control.” Gracie plunged a fork into the coleslaw dripping with mayo.

Gracie’s mother wasn’t convinced, by the look she exchanged with her husband.

“You probably need to get some reliable, experienced help, so you can concentrate on running the business,” her mother said, taking a bite of her broiled fish.

“We’re working on it. I put a posting on that new Deer Creek Help Wanted site, an ad in the Pennysaver, and I called the employment agency in Warsaw. With Marian, things are off to a good start. We’ll see how Joe works out.” Gracie closed the lid on the take-out container. “I need one more full-time person, and I think we can handle things. Of course, it depends on whether we have any business after this week of major disasters.”

“It’ll work out. You and Jim have good business heads. And, Gracie, you need to take care of yourself. You don’t want to end up with…umm, problems again.” Her father
wiped his mouth with the paper napkin and threw his container in the kitchen’s stainless steel trashcan.

“I’m fine and don’t worry.” Gracie’s voice was sharp. “I need to be busy, which reminds me, I’ve got to see Uncle Stan. He should be down at the VFW tonight. I’ll let you both get caught up on some sleep.” She picked up her mother’s container and hers, tossing them in the trash. Haley scrambled from under the kitchen table, her toenails clicking on the hardwood floor.

“Here’s my roll, Haley,” Theresa laughed. “You’re always so good until we clear the table. What do you need to see Uncle Stan about?” she queried as she wiped down the blue laminate counters and table.

“Well, I didn’t tell you the part about the books.”

“What books?” Her father put the newspaper he was reading on his lap and raised the recliner.

“Uh, well, Uncle Stan gave me a bunch of old books the day of the funeral. Isabelle is hot to have them back. She’s practically threatened me.”

“Are they valuable or sentimental to Isabelle?”

“Not really, but he had newspaper clippings about Charlotte’s accident, her death certificate, and some other papers stuck in the books.
I gave some of them back already to keep the peace.”

“Really!” her mother exclaimed. “Bob, can you take the garbage out?”

“And the strangest part is that Charlotte’s diary was in there too.” She pulled Haley’s leash from her large bag.

Theresa clutched the dishrag and leaned against the counter. “No wonder Isabelle is upset. That should all be hers. Stan is really having a hard time and isn’t thinking clearly. Plus you have a gift for getting her going, but I think this may be over the line.” Theresa rinsed the cloth under faucet, draping it over the sink divider. She wiped her hands on an apple-patterned kitchen towel.

“Well, I don’t think so. I think he wants to keep Charlotte’s things away from Isabelle, but I need to know why he gave them to me. Was there anything fishy about Charlotte’s death?”

Her father stepped back into the kitchen with the newspaper in his hands.

“Fishy?” He folded the paper and threw it in the recycling box by the trashcan.

“Well, wasn’t the investigation cut short? Didn’t Aunt Shirley just want to move on?” Gracie clipped the leash on a squirming Haley.

“It was so long ago now, Gracie.” Her mother rubbed her forehead and put a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“As I remember, the police ran into a dead end with no real witnesses.” Her father pulled the white garbage bag from the trashcan.

“But didn’t somebody give them a partial plate number?” Gracie let the leash drop to floor as she searched for her keys in the over-sized tote bag.

“Hmm, yes.”
Her father tapped his forehead with his index finger. “I think somebody did spot a car speeding along Mill Street that night and remembered two or three numbers on the plate. Nothing ever came of it though.”

“I think it was Matthew Minders who reported that,” her mother interjected. “Maybe it wasn’t enough for them to go on. Those weeks after Charlotte’s accident were pretty awful. Shirley and Stan had a lot to deal with. With your Uncle Stan’s reputation then, the police wouldn’t have cut corners. Everyone wanted to find the driver, but it was a horribly rainy night, and no one saw it. It was such a terrible loss for all of us.” Her voice suddenly quavered, and she quickly grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter. Her husband put his arm around her.

              “Sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t be dredging this stuff up. You’ve got enough on your plate, losing Aunt Shirley.” She decided that it wasn’t the time to drop the bombshell that Char had been pregnant, but maybe they knew. She’d save that for another time. Her mother had truly loved her sister, and the reality of her loss was sinking in.

“It’s OK, Gracie. I’m tired, and Shirley’s death is kind of hitting me now that we’re home. I went to call her to tell her we were back and…” Theresa’s voice broke.

Gracie hugged her mother.

“Get some rest, Mom.” She glanced at her watch.  “I guess I’ll catch Uncle Stan tomorrow. It’s getting late, and this will keep another day.” Gracie swung the bag over her shoulder and whistled for Haley. With tail thumping against the screen door, Haley stood panting with a silly Lab grin and leash dragging on the floor.

“Come on girl, let’s hit the road. Love you both, and I’m glad you’re back.”

“Love you too,” her father said as he rubbed his wife’s back. “
Be careful, Gracie.”

“
Sure thing. See you later.”