Fly by Night (A Gracie Andersen Mystery Book 3) (23 page)

Ambulance lights pulsed in the darkness, and Kim was whisked away. It didn’t look good, from what the EMTs had murmured to one another as they’d tried to stabilize the unconscious woman. Carla sat handcuffed in a cruiser, staring zombie-like into space. She seemed none the worse for wear after the fall. She’d refused treatment, even though her left wrist was swollen with a lump the size of a baseball. The thick carpet had probably saved her from any major injuries. Lights pulsed in the darkness from the bevy of law enforcement vehicles parked at odd angles all over the lawn. Crime scene people were hard at work in the house.

Jim stood by Gracie, who had just finished her statement to a furious Investigator Hotchkiss. She was now explaining it all over again to Jim, who was of the same mind as the policewoman.

She sat shivering in the warm night air on the edge of a cruiser’s backseat, while Jim towered over her, arms folded across his chest.

“I know it was stupid not to call anyone sooner, but everyone was looking for Roscoe, and I wasn’t really sure anyway. It all happened so fast. I didn’t expect it to go quite that way, you know.”

Tears streamed down her face, streaking the remains of her party makeup into puddles on her cheeks.

“Chief, you were almost killed tonight, and Kim is in really bad shape.”

His exasperation was more than evident, and the worry lines on his face made her feel somewhat comforted. He squatted down and took her hands in his. He squeezed them tightly, released them, and stood abruptly.

Jim turned to look at the activity around the house. A crime scene team member ran from the house to Investigator Hotchkiss, who squinted as she studied what looked like a small bottle. A deputy shone his flashlight on it, and the woman barked orders to him.

Jim returned his gaze to Gracie, who snuffled and wiped her smeary face with the back of her hand.

“I’ll take you home,” he said simply and pulled her to her feet.

Her parents met them at the house. Haley was eager to see her mistress, but Gracie could hardly function as she willed her sluggish legs to carry her across the floor. The dog, immediately subdued, followed Gracie and Theresa into the bedroom. Her mother helped her undress and was uncharacteristically mute throughout the process. Gracie felt herself slip into nothingness under the cool, smooth sheets.

******

Sunlight flooded the bedroom. Gracie groaned and forced her eyes open. They felt gravelly and swollen. She looked at the alarm clock on her nightstand. It was 9:36. Panic surged through her, and she swung her legs out of bed to hurry to the shower. Bob and Theresa were in the kitchen when she appeared, wrapped in her robe and a towel around her wet hair. Their faces were grim, and she knew the news wasn’t good.

Kim was in a coma. The bullet had torn through an artery and she’d lost a lot of blood. The quantity of sleeping pills that were in her stomach had complicated the situation. Carla had forced Kim to swallow almost an entire bottle with D. B.’s Glock pressed to her head. She’d gotten a call from Kim about the accessory order that had helped her establish an alibi. Unhinged that Kim would no longer be a suspect, Carla decided that Kim should commit suicide out of guilt before her alibi became public knowledge. Until Gracie had shown up, it had almost worked. Gracie sat at the breakfast bar, the reality of death staring her in the face.

“What about Roscoe? Have they found him? Is he all right?”

She desperately needed some good news. She tore the towel from her head, dropping it on the stool next to her. Jim appeared at the kitchen screen door as if on cue. He had a crooked smile on his face and a box of sweet rolls in his hand.

“They found Roscoe last night on Richter’s property. He’s got a pretty good knock on the head and he’s banged up, but he’s going to be all right. They pushed him into a trench and tried to bury him. The man’s tougher than we thought.”

She heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you, God, for something good,” she breathed.

“Get some caffeine in your system and tell us what happened last night,” her mother instructed while she handed a mug to her daughter.

Gracie nodded miserably and began the complete report.

“I was thinking the murderer was Dean because he was acting pretty hostile toward Kim. It wasn’t like him to be so forceful. When I started up to the farm, I remembered he’d told me that he was going to the barn. It’s an easy walk to the house from there. There was something about that necklace Carla was wearing that nagged at me, though. Then I remembered when I got into the office. The sapphire was exactly like the ring Kim wore. That couldn’t have been a coincidence. I had mentioned it to Dean, and he acted like he knew nothing about it. I guess he didn’t.”

Jim, who was finishing a hunk of caramel brown gooeyness, held up a hand as he finished chewing. Swallowing the last of the roll down with a slurp of coffee, he said, “You were right about the necklace. She took it from D. B.’s truck the night of the murder. It was a gift for Kim that D. B. had picked up that day. Carla considered it payment for pain and suffering, I guess. Poor Dean!”

Gracie frowned and shook her head. “What was she thinking? If Kim had seen the necklace, she’d have known right away. The way Carla talked, it sounded like she and Dean had a good marriage.”

“What you don’t know was that Carla had been pushing Dean to force D. B. to sell out to them for over a year. D. B. had messed around with Dean and the partnership for a long time, and Dean was content to bide his time. He was sure that D. B. would retire in the next year. Carla apparently didn’t believe the retirement plan would happen and decided to move things along. Dean told me last night that he’d suspected something was going on between D. B. and Carla. They weren’t having an affair, but Carla kept making hints to D. B. that it was time to speed up his retirement plans. She started redecorating the house to suit her own tastes, and with Kim’s blessing. Once D. B. figured out what she was up to, he finally told her to back off. His retirement would be on his own timetable.”

“Kim thought D. B. was having an affair with Cynthia Harkness,” Gracie broached. “She spent a lot of time with him the last few weeks he was alive.”

“There’s an ongoing investigation into Ms. Harkness’ dealings with New Energy and federal grants,” Bob Clark chimed in, holding up the newspaper and rattling the pages. “Looks like a big scandal for Streeker, who says he’s the one who got the FBI involved. Paper says she’s disappeared though.”

Jim huffed in disgust. “She’s probably on some island, counting the loot.”

“Probably,” Gracie agreed. “Streeker fired her at Isabelle’s party. Maybe she’s run away with Mitch Allen,” she said, half-joking.

“Oh, no,” said her father, holding up the newspaper again. “He’s been arrested and is facing an indictment for fraud and a list of other charges from the government.”

“What about Dean’s alibi? Carla vouched for him,” Gracie asked, rubbing her temples to ease a headache.

“Dean was really sick. So sick he was flat on his back when he wasn’t in the bathroom. He said that Carla could have come and gone 50 times that night and he wouldn’t have noticed,” Jim said. “The kicker was that she’d told him she had an evening appointment earlier in the day. When the police started questioning him, she swore she’d been at home all night because Dean was sick. She acted like the loyal wife, and Dean was grateful for a solid alibi.”

“This whole thing makes my head spin,” Theresa complained. “It’s a wonder you weren’t all hurt or worse.”

“It
is
a wonder,” Gracie agreed.

43

The strawberry social was well underway. Shortcake, whipped cream, and bowls of ruby-colored strawberries swam in their sweet juices, waiting to be ladled into bowls of biscuits and huge squares of white cake. Long tables stretched across the church lawn, filled with just about everybody in town. Marlene and Theresa were in the middle of the serving crew, making sure there was plenty of everything available for the crowd. Gracie sat with Kim, Amanda, Sara, and Duane. Kim was still recovering, but her much thinner, pale face had a look of determination and peace.

“I’ll be leaving for Philadelphia next Saturday with Amanda,” she said, putting her spoon on the white paper tablecloth. “It’s time to get out of Dodge and stay out. When the farm sale is finalized, I’m going to Virginia to live near my sister.”

“I can understand that,” Gracie replied. “What is everyone else doing?” She waved a hand toward the three adult children.

Duane spoke first. “I’m transferring to the University of Virginia. I agree with Mom. I need to get out of here too.”

“And he’ll bring his laundry home on weekends to check on me.” Kim smiled at her son.

“What about you two?” Gracie looked at Sara and Amanda.

“John and I will hang around here. We just bought a house last year,” Sara answered. “We’re thinking about starting a family,” she added, glancing at her mother.

“And I’m staying in Philly. I love my job at the publishing house, and Philly’s a great place to live. A little more metropolitan than Deer Creek,” Amanda said, smiling.

“Is Dean going to stick around?” Gracie asked, wondering how in the world he would ever pick up the pieces staying in Wyoming County.

“Only for Carla’s trial, which we will come back for,” Kim said bitterly. “He’s working out a deal to sell the farm to the Strykersville manager. With his share of the sale, I’m sure he’ll be able to make a new start.”

She nodded solemnly. Carla’s dream of living in the big house would most certainly come true in a whole new way. Gracie was grateful to be alive and doubly grateful that her friends were getting the chance to move on.

“I’ll never be able to thank you enough for saving my life, Gracie. The whole thing is still unbelievable.” Kim gingerly extricated herself from the table. Her slow and deliberate movements made it clear she was still healing physically. The emotional healing—she wasn’t sure if that ever ended. The two women hugged. Gracie watched the Jackson family stroll to the parking lot.

Roscoe and Allie were quick to take the Jacksons’ place across from her. Tom and Kelly followed right behind the couple, huge bowls of strawberries and shortcake in their hands. Roscoe actually had some color in his cheeks. Allie had a little glow about her, too. Gracie suppressed a grin and began eating the hunk of shortcake drowned in juicy strawberries.

Roscoe was eager to fill her in on the loose ends in the search for the Richters. They’d reappeared in Vermont. His first wife’s family had slapped Ben with a wrongful death action. Some new evidence had recently come to light about her “accident.” There were a few other legal woes pending, most notable of which was Mr. Richter’s disbarment. The Wyoming County DA was also working on indicting the Richters and the De Francos for their attempted murder of Roscoe.

“It couldn’t happen to nicer people,” Gracie said between mouthfuls.

“And Roscoe found out that the Richters wanted the property because of gas.” Allie beamed, her large brown eyes batting at the embarrassed man.

“Gas?” Gracie put her spoon back in the bowl, looking puzzled and amused at Roscoe.

Tom chuckled. Kelly suppressed a giggle.

“Let me correct that—
natural
gas,” Roscoe amended, his cheeks stained with red. “A rather large deposit actually. Ms. Harkness found out and was trying work out an agreement with the Richters the night of Mr. Jackson’s demise. She said if they agreed to submit grant paperwork for a wind farm, she would ensure they received money to finance their land acquisitions, which would take care of their cash flow problem. No one ever intended for the wind farm to be built there. They were looking for quick cash from the grants, which would finance the fracking operation. Ms. Harkness would have received a generous cut of the profits for her assistance. It was an uneasy partnership at best, and fortunately, it’s been disbanded.”

“Chalk up one for the good guys,” Gracie snickered. “At least my tax dollars were saved on that deal.”

Roscoe sat up straighter on the bench, his chest puffed out importantly. “The other news is that
The Sentinel
has offered me a position as a reporter.”

“That’s great! Congratulations! You deserve it after all you went through to get the skinny on those slime balls.”

“Thank you, Grace. I’ve turned them down actually. There’s an opening for an investigative reporter on a lesser known publication where I’ll be able to pursue my study of extraterrestrial visitations.”

Jim joined the table, as did Dan and Darlene Evans, owners of the hardware, just as Roscoe made the announcement. Another round of congratulations ensued with some raised eyebrows, and Roscoe looked like he was going to pop all his shirt buttons. Allie clutched his arm, her eyes shining with adoration.

“Did you ever find out about the lights in the sky after D. B.’s murder?” Jim asked while he pressed the juicy strawberries into his biscuits.

“Not really. Mr. Richter denies using the equipment that Mr. Jackson’s son had hidden on the property. He did, however, call the police the night of our nocturnal investigation. Someone had let it slip that the perpetrators of the hoax were picking up the equipment. It’s amazing the information to be collected at Midge’s.” He looked meaningfully at Gracie, who blushed. He continued, “The Air Force had no aircraft in the area, and the Weather Service didn’t have any weather balloons. That unfortunately remains a mystery, one that will require further research,” Roscoe finished officiously.

“It’ll give an ace reporter something to investigate,” Tom joked.

“I plan to continue my UFO research, but I do have other priorities at the moment.” Roscoe’s face was serious, his eyes bright with puppy love as he gazed at Allie. Leaving their strawberries behind, the unlikely couple made their way across the church lawn, hand in hand.

“Who would have thought?” Jim said.

“That is a definite mystery,” Gracie replied. “Why have you guys been absent from all the festivities of late?” she quizzed her brother.

“Well, we’ve been busy with a few things,” Tom answered, his voice quavering nervously.

“What things?” Gracie demanded.

Kelly slid her left hand across the table. A sparkling pear cut diamond adorned her ring finger.

“Really? You’re really …” Gracie stopped, her eyes filling with tears, rising to hug her best friend and veterinarian. An excellent combination, in her book.

“Yup. It’s official. We just let Dad and Mom know. I had some things to work out with Jan and the custody arrangement with Emma. Jan’s decided to go back to Texas. She has a good job there and friends to help her through another divorce. Emma will live with me and visit her mother over the summer,” Tom answered. He stood and put an arm around Kelly, who hadn’t stopped smiling.

“Well, congrats, Tom. You’re a lucky man,” Jim said, standing to shake Tom’s hand.

“So when’s the big day?” Gracie asked.

“We’re not sure yet,” Kelly said. “I’ve been dealing with some issues at the clinic, and I’m thinking about opening up my own practice. It’s been pretty stressful. I’ve been off the grid to figure things out. Once we know for sure what I’m doing, we’ll set the date. It won’t be too long, right, Tom?”

“Yes, dear,” he responded with an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t want Kelly to lose interest, and Emma is demanding a quick wedding date.”

Gracie laughed. Her niece was a chip off the old block. No patience and a woman of action.

*****

Gracie stood in the warm June night, inhaling the scented dewy air. The sky was brilliant with stars. The Big Dipper seemed to sparkle with unusual brilliance tonight. For the first time in a long while, everything seemed in balance. It was a good feeling. She’d had a surprise phone call from Marc. They’d talked for over an hour, catching up on life. Then he’d asked her if she’d come visit him in Arizona. A rush of emotion had made her answer “yes” without hesitation. It felt right, especially after Tom’s and Kelly’s announcement.

Haley rustled through the lilac bushes, critter hunting. The peepers and crickets sang with gusto in the humid darkness. The Lab abruptly stopped her search, growling and looking up at the sky. Startled, Gracie followed the dog’s nose toward the horizon and the woods behind the kennel property. Blue and white lights pulsed steadily over the trees. She watched them advance slowly over the field, ascending higher. A flash of white light stung the darkness and the lights vanished.