Jeanne Glidewell - Lexie Starr 03 - Haunted (16 page)

Normally, after hearing a message like Wendy’s, and getting knocked out cold at a football game, I would find it hard to get to sleep. But after a long evening and a shot of Demerol, I found falling asleep came very easily to me. I didn’t awaken again until I felt Stone rubbing my shoulder at eight-thirty the next morning. As predicted, it hurt to even breathe, much less move my body. I groaned dramatically as I sat up in bed.

“I brought you some coffee and your favorite granola cereal for breakfast,” Stone said.

“Thanks, honey. What about the Dudleys? I need to get downstairs and fix them something for breakfast too.”

“Don’t worry about Steve and Eleanor. I fed them some cold cereal and toast, and they’ve headed out to meet with a cousin in Kansas City.”

“I hope they weren’t disappointed about having toast and granola cereal for breakfast,” I said.

“Actually, they had Honey Nut Cheerios. I explained to them about your accident last night, and they were fine with their breakfast. They’re both watching their cholesterol levels. They both seemed quite concerned about you too, and wanted me to wish you a quick recovery.”

“No headache this morning, but my ribs are sore, and I feel stiff all over.”

“I figured you would be, but at least your head feels all right today. Stay in bed as long as you want. There’s nothing pressing this morning,” Stone assured me.

“I think I’ll come down to the kitchen for a coffee refill in a little bit and wait for Wendy to arrive with her big news.”

* * *

Before Wendy’s foot even touched down inside the front door, she blurted out breathlessly, “Andy is flying in here tomorrow afternoon to spend a few days. He told me to tell you guys, and to tell you he’ll be staying here at the inn with you, as usual. It was a last minute decision on his part.”

“Fantastic!” Stone and I spoke in unison.

After giving both of us a hug, Wendy sat down at the kitchen table. “He’ll arrive here at four-fifteen tomorrow at Kansas City International Airport. I’ll go and pick him up.”

As I poured her a cup of coffee, I said, “I can’t wait to see him. It’s been such a long time. He hasn’t been here since Fourth of July weekend.”

“That’s wonderful news, Wendy,” Stone said. Andy had always been Stone’s favorite nephew, possibly his favorite relative. Andy was the son of Stone’s older brother, Sterling, and he lived not too far from Stone’s former residence in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Andy was a pilot and owned a small charter flight business there. “Is there any particular reason he’s coming to Kansas City, or is it just for a visit?”

“You know how Andy always wanted to own some land? He noticed an ad for a place on the Internet quite a while ago, and he just found out it’s still on the market. It’s like a farm, I guess. He’d like to move back to this area, and thought maybe this was his opportunity to do so. He’s got an appointment with a realtor to look at the place Thursday morning,” Wendy explained.

“I remember you talking about that before, when he first saw the ad,” I said. “Then when nothing came of it, I figured he’d changed his mind about moving back to the Midwest.”

“Me too,” Stone said. “And as much as I’d love to have Andy close by, I’m a little skeptical about his giving up his business and becoming a farmer. He has no experience in farming, and even experienced farmers are having a tough time of it these days.”

“He’s still planning to pilot charter flights on the side,” Wendy said. “He has a friend who owns a charter company in Kansas City, and he offered Andy a part-time job if he moves back. That’s the only reason he would even consider a move like this. He knows he has no experience living on a farm and making it work. He wants something to fall back on with some guaranteed income. He’s saved enough for a nice down payment, he told me.”

“He always was good with his money. Where is this farm? I don’t recall. Wasn’t it west of here?” Stone asked.

“Yeah, just west of here. It’s a couple miles north of Atchison, Kansas.”

“How much are they asking for the place?” Stone asked Wendy.

“Andy never said, but he thought it was a very reasonable price. He said they’ve dropped the price considerably since he first saw the ad months ago. They’re desperate to sell. The price includes an old farmhouse, which needs a little repairing and remodeling.”

“How much repair and remodeling?” Stone asked. It didn’t surprise me that Stone was being practical and pragmatic. As much as he loved Andy, he wanted what was best for him, not what was best for himself. Above all else, Stone wanted Andy to be successful and happy. Stone’s first wife had been unable to have children, and I knew he thought of Andy as if he were his own son.

“Well, I don’t know what shape the place is in. I don’t think he does either, because he’s never seen it except for some digital photos I sent him when he first mentioned the place. I drove out there to take the photos from the road, and as I recall it didn’t look like it was on the verge of falling down, or anything. But he’s very handy, you know. And he definitely wants you to go with him to look at the farm on Thursday, Stone.”

“Good. I’ll be anxious to see it. Yes, he is handy. But he doesn’t want to jump into something like this without careful deliberation, and consideration for everything that’s involved in a decision such as this,” Stone said. “Personally, I hope it works out because I’ve missed him greatly.”

“So have I,” Wendy said a little shyly.

“Tell me more about what he’s told you about the farm,” Stone said. “What kinds of crops are grown on it?”

“Well, it’s six hundred and forty acres. I don’t know anything about crops, but there’s a chicken coop on the property and some chickens, and a pigsty with some pigs. Also, there’s a barn full of hay, and a goat or two, a nearly new John Deere tractor, and most importantly, ninety-three head of Black Angus, twenty of which are this year’s calves.”

“It sounds like he wants to be a cattle rancher rather than a farmer. That’s a relief. That would make him a little less vulnerable than a farmer raising wheat and soybeans, where he’d be totally dependent on the weather,” Stone said. “As you know, it’s feast or famine around here. We can have severe droughts, or we can have deluges of rain, flooding the fields. Cattle are pretty resilient if you have barns and water tanks and all. I feel better about the move already. Did Andy mention why the current owners are selling out?”

“Andy said the couple who own the farm are getting up in years, and the husband has several medical conditions, making it more convenient for him to be closer to the VA Hospital in Leavenworth, so they’re going to look for an assisted-living place there. He even mentioned something about the new owner adopting his beloved dog, which he doubts will be allowed at their new home,” Wendy said.

“Well, I’m kind of excited about the idea,” I said, breaking into the conversation. “It might turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to Andy. I believe all things happen for a reason, and I have faith whatever happens in this instance is what’s meant to happen.”

“I’m excited too, now that I’ve heard more about it,” Stone said. “Ninety-three head of cattle is a nice-sized herd.”

“I’d just be thrilled to have Andy living back here,” Wendy admitted. “We’ve established a great friendship, just talking on the phone, ever since I got back from the east coast. He’s going to take me out to eat Thursday night. I recommended the new little steakhouse in town. It’s called Smoking Joe’s, and all of their steaks are grilled over an open fire.”

Wendy was beaming at the thought of spending time with Stone’s nephew, and I hoped Stone didn’t bring up my visit to Wheatfield Hospital last night. I didn’t want to do anything to put a damper on her ecstatic mood. And I wasn’t in the frame of mind for a scolding from my daughter either. She could be very intolerant of my impulsive nature.

Wendy finished her cup of coffee while we discussed the arrival of Andy and other current issues. No new developments had come out of the coroner’s lab, so I told her what I’d learned, being as vague as possible. Nothing good could come of relating everything that had happened to me in the last couple of days.

Naturally, she was concerned when Stone got around to telling her about my accident at the football game. I should have known he couldn’t keep a story like that to himself. She didn’t say much, just shook her head in disgust. I quickly changed the subject to talk about our guests at the inn, the Dudleys, before Wendy got up on her soapbox, which she was prone to do.

A few minutes later Wendy stood up to leave. She wanted to get her hair cut, her nails done, and possibly even do a little clothes shopping before she picked Andy up at the airport tomorrow. I could tell she was nervous about his arrival and was hoping something of a romantic nature would come of his visit. I walked her to the door, moving a little tenderly with my bruised ribs and stiff, aching muscles. She told me to take it easy for a few days, kissed me, and headed off to a nearby mall.

“Do you think this budding romance between Wendy and Andy will amount to anything, or is it just wishful thinking on Wendy’s part?” I asked Stone after Wendy had left.

“Last time I talked to Andy, he couldn’t say enough good things about her, so I’d say there’s a fighting chance something will develop.”

“Do you know if he’s dating anyone right now?”

“I don’t think so. At least he hasn’t mentioned anyone. He’s never dated anyone seriously in the past, so he brings no excess baggage with him, anyway. I certainly hope something develops between Andy and Wendy. They deserve each other, and I think they’d make a good pair,” Stone said. “Andy’s spent most of his time building up his charter flight business in the last few years. He doesn’t give himself a chance to sit back, relax, and enjoy life very often. I admire his ambition and dedication, but I wish he’d loosen up a bit and give himself an opportunity to have some fun and find someone special to share his life with. I hope it’s someone like Wendy.”

“I hope so too, Stone,” I said. “I’d love to have Andy as my son-in-law. As you know, the first son-in-law didn’t work out so well.”

Stone agreed and left to go check the mailbox. He was waiting on a part for his lawnmower, which he’d ordered over the Internet. I poured myself another cup of coffee and got the Bunn coffeemaker ready for a fresh pot.

I was glad the Dudleys had gone to visit relatives in Kansas City, because I didn’t feel up to dealing with guests for a couple of hours. I’d wanted to check in on Melba to see if I could catch her in a more lucid state, but even that didn’t appeal to me this morning. I felt more like relaxing in the chaise lounge on the back deck with a good book.

After reading for several hours and nodding off a few times, I heard Stone come out the back door. He was carrying a paper plate with a turkey sandwich, and a few potato chips, on it.

“Thought you might be getting hungry. How are you feeling by now?” he asked. “Are you still pretty sore?”

“Yes, but I feel much better,” I said. “I’m kind of getting accustomed to you waiting on me hand and foot, Stone, and I like it. I should get hurt more often.”

“No, I don’t want you getting hurt and getting used to this kind of treatment,” he said, with a chuckle. “Seriously, I’m glad to see you’re resting.”

“I’ve been resting and reading for hours. Now I’m thinking I might run over to visit Melba for a few minutes. I’d like to take her a colorful potted plant to brighten up her room, because it’s so stark and depressing.”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s the only reason you want to go visit her,” Stone said rather sarcastically. “I’m sure grilling her with questions about her deceased son never crossed your mind.”

“Well, sure, the subject might come up in passing—”

“I’m just kidding you, Lexie,” Stone assured me. “I can’t imagine you could get into any trouble just speaking with Melba for a few minutes. But, then, I couldn’t have imagined that speaking with a cheerleader could land you in the hospital either.”

Chapter 14

I could hear loud snoring as I walked up the hallway to room 464 at the Wheatfield Memorial Hospital, where I had just spent the previous evening. Melba was sound asleep, and a man I didn’t recognize sat quietly in a chair next to her bed. He looked to be in his early-to-mid-forties with slicked-back jet-black hair, a thin mustache, and dark bushy sideburns. He had on a pair of aviator-style sunglasses that were out of place in the artificially lit hospital room.