Family Matters (5 page)

T
he phone jangled incessantly, dogs were barking, people were picking up and dropping off their dogs.  Gracie determined that she absolutely needed help today. There were only so many things she and Jim could do. They had certainly miscalculated at how the business would grow in three months. It was great, but it was also a disaster. Another kennel helper and a groomer were necessities. She finally made it into the office to call Marian Majewski, a retired groomer. She’d run into her a couple of weeks ago in the grocery store. When she’d asked Marian about working again, there had been some interest. She’d beg Marian on her hands and knees to help them for at least a couple of weeks until a more permanent arrangement could be made. The phone was ringing. She crossed her fingers that Marian would answer.

“Hi, Marian.
This is Gracie Andersen at Milky Way.  I’m wondering if you’re still interested in working. We could sure use you here even if it’s temporary. We’re swamped, and I know you could get the grooming schedule under control.”

“I’ve been thinking about calling you,” Marian laughed. “Honestly, I’ve been bored out of my mind, Gracie. I don’t think I’m settling into retirement like I thought. I’d love to help out. I miss those fur balls and their sloppy kisses.”

“Any chance you could start today?”

“You bet. Let me tell my husband and I’ll be there in about an hour or so.”

“Wow! Great! Thanks!” Gracie breathed a sigh of relief.

Some real help was on the way and so easily too. Marian’s reputation with the dog community was impeccable. She could shampoo a dog and clip his toenails before he knew what hit him. She could put the most hyper or distressed dog at ease in minutes. She had a reputation for being the same way with people. Marian would certainly get the grooming organized.

Gracie was turning people away because there just weren’t enough hours in the day. Having Marian around would give her some breathing room which meant she wouldn’t be doing the books late at night—maybe.

Beth informed her she hadn’t been able to locate a friend, so the search for a kennel helper continued. Gracie had a call in to the security company to get them out to check the system. She had also spent a lot of time soothing the fears of customers who were concerned about the safety of their dogs. Word of the break-in traveled at lightning speed
—in town and out of town. Her head stilled ached, but was manageable.  Gracie had just finished another call, calming an anxious dog owner, when she saw Isabelle’s Lexus pull in. At least Jim had been able to give her a heads up when he’d arrived a few minutes ago.

“OK. Here we go,” she said to a sleeping Haley. The dog opened one eye, groaned, and went back to sleep. “Thanks for the support, girl.”

She met Isabelle in the parking lot to discourage sitting or lingering of any sort.

“Hi, Isabelle.
What brings you out so early?”

“I heard about the break-in. I just had to see if you were all right.”

“I’m fine, except for lack of sleep. The sheriff’s department is working on it.”

“I don’t have a lot of confidence in them. They’re not known for their investigative skills. You should have a security system or something, you know.” Isabelle was
impeccably dressed, as usual in a cropped pink jacket with delicate cream piping and black capris. Her hair and makeup were perfect. Only the hardness in her eyes belied her appearance.

“We have a security system. That’s why they took off so fast. There have been several burglaries lately and the deputies are working on it—like I said.”

“We’ll see. But I do need to talk to about the things Father gave you yesterday. Can we go inside?”

Gracie’s stomach began to churn. There was no way Isabelle was getting anything from her, at least right now.

“I really don’t have time Isabelle. I’m short staffed and…”

“Well, this is family business
. Father didn’t consult me before he gave you that bag of books and whatever else.”

“Isabelle, it was just some old dog books…nothing exciting. I haven’t even had a chance to go through it yet.” She felt a twinge of conscience, but she wasn’t going to mention the diary.

“I’d be glad to do that for you and then pass along the appropriate books to you.”

“I’m sure Uncle Stan…”

“Father is not himself and hasn’t been for years. I—”

“Listen, Isabelle, I’ll go through them soon, and let you know. I really don’t have time to deal with this right now. I can’t believe you’re concerned about some old books. Don’t you have more important things to do, like your mother’s probate?”

Isabelle was not mollified, but Gracie could see a hint of defeat in her cousin’s face.               “You’re right, Gracie. I do have an appointment with Mother’s attorney today. There’s so much to do. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Gracie knew Isabelle wouldn’t let this little tug-of-war go. She’d just regroup. But Gracie wasn’t in the mood to be pushed
around.Two could play this game.

“I’ll look forward to it.” Gracie stood with arms folded across her chest and saw with satisfaction the flicker of uncertainty in Isabelle’s eyes.

As the Lexus spun its way onto the highway, Jim called to Gracie from the front door of the reception area. He had just finished replacing the broken panes of glass.

“Hey, Chief, way to handle the extremely difficult cousin.”

“Well, maybe, but it’s not over. Isabelle won’t let this go, especially after what I found in that bag.”

“Some dark family secret?”

“Something interesting, but I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet. I’ll show you later.”

“It’s a date.” He picked up his toolbox and headed toward the storage barn. “Hey, I’m headed to Midge’s for a coffee break. With any luck I’ll snag a kennel helper. Maybe Gloria Minders can help us out.”

“I’m not so sure about that avenue, but I hope you can find someone. I do have Marian
Majewski coming today. She’ll whip the grooming into shape. Bring me back a sweet roll, if you can remember. I need a sugar boost.”

“Not to worry, Chief
. Sweet roll and a warm body. No problem.” 

His noisy Explorer headed back out to the highway.

Gracie was navigating a sparkling Westie named Jasper in the holding area, when Jim strode in with a thin gray-haired man, in worn jeans and a gray T-shirt. He slouched a little and kept his eyes on the ground.

“You’ll never guess who I ran into, Chief.” Jim was grinning from ear to ear and looking pleased with
himself.

“I have no idea, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.” Gracie’s first impression of Jim’s companion didn’t warrant a smile.

“This is Joe Youngers. You know, from high school. He was a year ahead of us. You remember him on the wrestling team.”

Gracie looked closely at the man. He did look vaguely familiar.

“Joe. Really?  How are you?”  From what she could remember, Joe had been a troublemaker in high school and had continued his bad behavior into adulthood.

“Hey, I’m
doin’ OK. I’ve had some tough times, but I’m gettin’ myself straightened around.”

“Glad to hear that. So where are you living these days?”

“I’m staying with my grandmother, Bea Youngers. She’s helpin’ me get back on my feet.”

“Mrs. Youngers. Oh, right. She was at my Aunt Shirley’s funeral. She’s such a nice lady.”
Her near collision with the white-haired matron ran through Gracie’s mind.

“Yeah, well…” he looked down at the ground again, shifting his feet and looking more uncomfortable.

“Joe’s looking for work and he can start today. He’s willing to do whatever we need. I ran into Gloria Minders and she got me hooked up with her new program, Second Chances. Joe, here, was at the top of the list for employment when she called over to Warsaw.”

“I thought you were...” Gracie caught herself; the stubborn look on Jim’s face warned her that he’d already made up his mind about Joe. Clearing her throat and attempting to adjust her attitude, she said, “Well, why don’t we let him fill out the paperwork first?  I’ve got a couple of things to talk to you about and then we can see.”

They needed help, but Gracie’s gut told her that Joe wasn’t the kind of help they needed. Jim avoided her eyes and put his arm around Joe’s shoulder, steering him to Gracie’s office.

“Sure. Hey, Joe, come into the office, and I’ll get you set up. Regulations, you know.”

“No problem. I know all about ‘em.”

Jim pulled the employment packet out of the second file drawer and got Joe settled at the Gracie’s desk. Joe began studying the application.

“Take your time, Joe. I’ll be right back.”

“Hey, thanks Jim. I don’t think it’ll take too long.” Joe began to scribble in his information.

Jim stepped around the corner to the grooming room, where Gracie stood with her hands on her hips.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, trying to be quiet enough so Joe wouldn’t hear.
“He’s been in a lot of trouble hasn’t he? He was always in trouble in school. He got kicked off the wrestling team if you remember.”

“Yeah, well, some, but he’s trying to get his life on track. He needs a break. He’s been picking up odd jobs at dairy farms. This would give him a real second chance. You know, like this program is all about. Your pastor’s wife recommended him. What more do you want?” She wasn’t sure what more she did want, if Gloria was sure of him.

“Do you know what kind of trouble he was in?”

“Yes. He said something about a couple of burglaries and reckless driving
. DWI, I think. Gracie, sometimes you’ve gotta take a chance on somebody. My opinion counts here too. We’re partners, 50-50. Remember?”

“Yeah, well we were just robbed. I’m not feeling too generous toward thieves.
” Her volume was steadily going up.

“Calm down, Chief. Your red hair is showing. As I remember
, you hired the last two.”

Gracie frowned, but slowly nodded her head. He was right. She’d made a bad hiring decision on Alison.

“I’ll watch him like a hawk. We’ll give him a week. If you still feel the same way, I’ll tell him it’s not working out. Remember, we need the help.”

“All right.
I’m not in favor of this, but…” Gracie saw Joe round the corner into the grooming room.

“Hey, I don’t want to cause any trouble. If you don’t think…”

“No problem, Joe,” Jim reassured him. “Gracie and I’ve got it worked out.”

“Thanks. I really need the job and I won’t disappoint you. I love dogs, so I think this will work.”

Gracie bit her tongue savagely and managed a smile.

“I sincerely hope so, Joe. Let’s take a look at your paperwork.”

She felt a flush of anger creep up her neck as she struggled to maintain a modicum of professionalism and some Christian charity. She could hear her mother’s voice about being kind to those less fortunate. Jim smiled in his maddening way with blue eyes twinkling, and strode down the corridor.

“There’s a sweet roll for you in reception,” he called over his shoulder without looking back. “Sweet roll, warm body, mission accomplished.”

It’s not quite that simple, Gracie thought as she glanced over Joe’s application and withholding forms.

“I hate to ask, but are you on probation or something?” She was sure her tone was sharp, even though she was trying to soften her voice.

“Yeah, I’ve got three months left. I’m not going back for another round of prison. I want to get on with my life. I’ve screwed up enough. I can give you my probation officer’s number. I have to go counseling with Second Chances every week, so I’ll need to make those appointments. I hope that won’t be a problem.” Joe’s voice had a tone of sincerity that Gracie hesitantly began to believe.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll give this
a shot. Jim will show you the ropes. Can you start at 7:00 during the week? We open at 7:30.”

“Sure. That’s good with me. We always had to get up early to milk when I was a kid. ‘Course, prison…” His voice trailed off.

“Great. Can you work Saturdays and some Sundays?” Gracie quickly filled in the silence.

“I’ve got nothing else going on. I want to keep busy.”

“OK. We’ll find Jim and get you started.” Gracie adjusted her ponytail and  made another attempt with her attitude while she led Joe down the hallway to the runs. When she glanced out the window, she noticed an old pickup driving slowly by the Milky Way entrance. The driver was craning his neck to look at the kennels.

It was late when Gracie began to go through the books. She was freshly showered, with her damp auburn hair clamped securely off her neck. A few stray curls fell around her tanned and lightly freckled face. She was tired, but felt relaxed for the first time that day in the comfortable knit black shorts and green tank top. She sat cross-legged on the living room floor in front of the fan, with Haley snoring softly next to her. There were a few interesting old dog books. Along with the 1953 AKC book, there were two books on retrieving and field work. Where did Uncle Stan find these? She flipped through the musty pages. Old newspaper clippings were tucked here and there through each book. She carefully unfolded the well-creased paper. All of the clippings were reports on the hit-and-run accident that killed Charlotte. The final rectangle she unfolded was the obituary.

Charlotte Browne—age 18, died from injuries received in a tragic accident on October 24, 1992. She is survived by her parents, Stanley and Shirley Browne of Deer Creek, New York, along with her sister, Isabelle. She is also survived by an aunt, Theresa Clark (Robert), and cousins, Thomas and Grace Clark. Charlotte was a senior at Letchworth High School. She was active in cheerleading, drama, and the band. She had been accepted to the University of Buffalo for the 1993 fall semester. Friends may call at the Harwood Funeral Home on Friday, October 28
th
, from 2:00 – 4:00 p.m. and 7:00 – 9:00 p.m. Funeral services will be held at the Deer Creek Community Church on Saturday, October 29
th
, at 10:00 a.m. The Rev. Albert Minders will officiate. Burial is in Hope Cemetery.

The rest of the books were romance novels from her aunt’s library. Aunt Shirley was known for her voracious reading of romance novels. Uncle Stan knew that Gracie had no use for the genre. He must have used them to hide the good stuff. She carefully checked through the pages to see if any other clippings were hidden away. A half page letter dropped from the last novel. It was written in neat, slightly slanted script. There was no signature, and Gracie quickly scanned the contents.

It’s over, so you’d better deal with it. Don’t call me again or you’ll be sorry.

It wasn’t Charlotte’s writing; it looked like a masculine hand. She grabbed the diary that was close at hand and compared the handwriting. She was correct. The writers were different. The note certainly sounded ominous. Who would have threatened Charlotte? She kept looking through the thick novel for any more hidden treasures. Sure enough, there were two more: Charlotte’s death certificate and a bad photocopy of a police report. The weariness that Gracie felt earlier was erased as she began to lay out the pieces of paper on the floor to try and make sense of Uncle Stan’s disturbing gift.

She put the tea kettle on, set out a large white ceramic mug, and tossed a teabag in it. While the water was heating, she double-checked each book for any other papers that might be tucked inside.
Nothing. The kettle whistle sounded, and she quickly shut off the burner and filled the mug. Carefully picking up the fragile papers, she placed them on the dining room table to take a closer look. Haley began to growl and was on her feet. Headlights flashed through the front windows. A car was turning into the driveway. She pulled the curtains back on the kitchen door. It was Isabelle.

“Of all the nerve,” Gracie said to Haley. She swept up the clippings and other papers and dumped them in a kitchen drawer. Isabelle was already ringing her doorbell.

Gracie answered the door with her hands on her hips.

“What’s the problem, Isabelle?”

“I know it’s late, Gracie, but I must have a look at the books Father gave you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. What are you so worried about? He didn’t give me anything that affects the value of the estate.”

Somehow Isabelle was now fully in her kitchen, scanning her counters.

“Well, there were books that Mother promised to me that had great sentimental value, and I need to know if he gave them to you.”

Isabelle had now seen the books lying on the living room floor. Gracie stood in her way as Isabelle attempted to step around her.

“Wait a minute. Your dad gave these to me. He’s the next of kin, not you. I’ll go through them first. I’ll let you have what I don’t want.”

“I’m the executor of the will. I’m in charge.”

Charlotte’s diary was on the coffee table, and Gracie could see that Isabelle’s eyes had locked onto the distinctive cover.

“What’s that? That looks like…” She strained to peer over Gracie’s shoulder. You have no right to have it.”

Gracie thought frantically.
“Sorry, Izzy. That’s my diary from high school. I’ve been looking over old pranks that I pulled with Michael and Jim.”

“You’re lying.”

“How dare you! You need to leave—now.”

“You’ll hear from my attorney tomorrow.”

“Great. You know the number.”

Both of them were breathing heavily and glared at each other with stormy looks. Isabelle turned abruptly and slammed the door. Haley’s hackles were still raised as the Lexus sp
ed out of the driveway. Hands shaking, Gracie grasped the mug and watched the taillights disappear in the darkness. Haley thrust her cold nose on Gracie’s leg and whined. “It’s OK, girl. The extremely difficult cousin is gone.”

What was going on?  Uncle Stan had done her no favors with this gift. It was proving to be upsetting and really putting Isabelle over the edge. What was so important in the papers and the diary? Gracie locked the kitchen door and threw the deadbolt. She checked all the other doors before she settled onto the sofa with the papers. An unknown drunk driver had taken the life of a beautiful girl. There was no satisfactory ending to the story. What was the point in revisiting it?

She read through each clipping. The newspaper reports were standard. They seemed to be of no value. There was a paragraph though that caught Gracie’s attention.

Police continue to investigate the hit-and-run death of Charlotte Browne. A witness to the accident has given authorities a partial plate number. The vehicle is believed to be a late model sedan, dark blue or green with a plate number beginning with WY. Anyone with information is encouraged to contact the Wyoming County Sheriff’s department.

Why hadn’t the police found the car?  Who was the witness?  Gracie remembered vaguely that a teenager out past his curfew said he saw someone driving erratically on Mill Street that night. He hadn’t been named, though. Charlotte had been walking home from a babysitting job on that windy and rainy October night. She’d stepped out to cross Main Street at the corner of Mill Street and was hit by a car that came swerving around the corner of Mill. Charlotte had been left in the street, with broken bones and internal bleeding. Either a car passing by or the witness had found her and called for an ambulance. Gracie couldn’t remember. There hadn’t been much else to go on from what she recalled. It had all been so shocking. Maybe her parents knew more. They’d be home in another three days. A family pow-wow was certainly needed by then.

The death certificate was painful to read. The cause of death was multiple traumas, a broken leg, and internal bleeding. Then Gracie’s eyes widened. A notation at the bottom of the certificate stated the decedent had been approximately eight weeks pregnant at the time of her death.

Gracie’s mind was whirling with questions. Char was pregnant?  Who was the father?  Why hadn’t Char told her?  No wonder Izzy was in a tizzy. This was a major smear on the family name. Aunt Shirley had certainly been a champion at keeping this tidbit a secret. She started reading the faded police report, hoping for more answers. The bad copy was hard to make out. It looked like parts of the report had been redacted. Why?  She needed to see Uncle Stan and soon.

She stood looking out into the dark backyard, holding the warm mug. Turning back toward the kitchen counter, she saw the light blinking on her message machine. Might as well find out who had called.

There were two messages. One was from Deputy Stevens. He wanted to set up a time to talk to her about the robbery. Why hadn’t he called the kennel number, she wondered?  The other call was from Gloria Minders. Gracie remembered Gloria’s phone calls after Michael’s death. They were weekly for several months. She had taken Gracie to lunch regularly and found a counselor for her. Gloria wanted to make sure Gracie was all right after the terrible robbery and was willing to help with anything she might need. Gracie smiled as she listened to the solicitous message. It never took long for the Deer Creek grapevine to swing into action. There would probably be someone with a casserole at the door tomorrow. She could just imagine the conversations at Midge’s counter. She would return those calls in the morning. Tonight she needed to start piecing together the information Uncle Stan had given her.

Grabbing the paper treasures from the utensil drawer, she spread them across the dining room table. There had to be some reason he was dredging up all of this pain again after 20 years. Was it because Aunt Shirley was dead?  She needed to see what Charlotte might have written in her diary. Gracie quickly undid the clasp and started reading.

July 30,
1992  Still raining today. The pool closed early, so I didn’t get many hours in. Saw Lancelot and Morgan Jr. Babysitting tonight at the Grangers. Maybe I’ll see L on my way.

August 2, 1992  Great day at the pool. I’ll have a perfect tan to start football cheerleading. It’s only a couple of weeks away. It’s worse at the castle. There are always more rules. I’m tired of it all. Babysitting tomorrow night at the Grangers. The kids are good and so is the pay AND I’m out of the castle.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary so far, just normal teenage griping, Gracie thought. Aunt Shirley’s rules had been mind-numbing back then. Anybody except Isabelle would complain. She thumbed through more entries in August.

August 21,
1992  Not feeling well today. Lancelot stopped by. Morgan Sr. was there too. I wish school was over with and I was starting college. It would be simpler. I can’t breathe here anymore. There’s no one I can talk to except to Dear Diary.

August 23, 1992  Fainted at practice today. Heat, I guess. The coach had to call the castle of course. Big fuss over nothing. Still feeling sick, but it was pretty hot today. Lancelot left for the crusade. Can’t wait for fall break. I miss him already. Saw Galahad. He makes my head spin. Not sure how I can handle all of this.

Who were Lancelot and Galahad? What was the King Arthur story all about? Morgan Sr. and Jr.? Charlotte was apparently trying to keep a few secrets herself. She remembered Char life-guarding at the Village pool that summer. Gracie had been working at the Deer Creek Veterinary Clinic, answering phones and learning how to be a vet tech. It had been a hot and hectic summer, but there had been at least a couple of family picnics with the Brownes and the Clarks. She couldn’t remember anything especially eventful at either one. Charlotte had been boy crazy in high school, but she couldn’t remember if there had been anyone really special.

Of course
, Aunt Shirley had kept a tight rein on her daughters. Isabelle was dating Tim, but that was an approved relationship. Tim was the oldest son of the banking family of Deer Creek. They’d established the Deer Creek Bank and had run it for more than 100 years. Aunt Shirley was pleased that Isabelle was attached to wealth and the local gentry. Back then, Uncle Stan had been a successful lawyer. His law practice was booming. He was the bank’s attorney, handling its corporate matters, mortgages, and foreclosures. Uncle Stan was also counsel to several of the other towns and villages in the county. His partner handled probate and real estate.

Aunt Shirley had been pretty impressed with her position in the community. She was on the library board, the Deer Creek Foundation board, and the church board. Now that Gracie thought about it, Aunt Shirley and Uncle
Stan had seemed pretty happy the summer of 1992. Of course, money and prestige were plentiful at the time. Committees and boards may have been what made their marriage so successful. It sure had changed in just a few months. The Browne family never recovered from Charlotte’s death. Aunt Shirley, who was overbearing and opinionated normally, became shrill and bitter after the accident. Uncle Stan, who was famous for his dry sense of humor, found solace in a bottle and watched his practice drift away. His partner left and opened an office in Geneseo, taking paralegals and secretaries with him. Uncle Stan’s longtime secretary, Harriet, stayed and ran the office and probably practiced law until Uncle Stan had retired five years ago.

Gracie shook off the memories and went back to the diary. As she turned the next page, a small lock of straight dark hair fell out. It was tied with slender blue satin ribbon and had been taped to the page. The yellowed brittle tape had given way.

August 24 – I think I have a big problem. It’s a huge mess. What am I going to do? The Morgan Le Fays will kill me. I am the Lady of
Shalot apparently. Everything will change. There’s no way out.

The entries ended. Gracie took a deep breath. Charlotte must have discovered that she was pregnant. Charlotte had been beautiful and popular. Gracie could still see her walking confidently down the sidelines at a football game, long, straight blond hair swinging almost to her waist, wearing a cheerleading outfit that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Her dark blue eyes were shining and full of fun. She knew how to push her mother’s buttons and constantly strained against Aunt Shirley’s strict rules. There had been more than one ugly family scene about curfews and who Charlotte could date. Charlotte had a penchant for some questionable football players, and Gracie remembered talking with her mother about how different Isabelle and Charlotte were.