Кэти Дэйли - The Curse Of Hollister House

I glanced at the table, which had three place settings. “Is Tom joining us?”

“He is. I hope that is okay. It has just been Tom and me all these years, so it made sense that he would join me for a meal each evening.”

“I think that is a wonderful idea. Tom has always been one of my favorite people. When I was a kid, we would sit out on the dock, and he would tell me wonderful stories about Foxtail Lake and the people who’d lived here over the years.”

“He really is a very nice man, and we do enjoy each other’s company. Most nights we watch television or play a game after we eat supper. Neither of us ever married or had a family, I have to say, my life would have been a lot emptier without him coming around in the evenings.”

“I’m glad you had him. I’m glad we both did.”

“So, how’d it go at Naomi’s place?” Gracie asked as she placed hot rolls in a basket.

“It went well. She’s really built an impressive facility. When Cass and I used to volunteer at the old county-run shelter, it was so depressing, but I think the animals in Naomi’s care will have a good life whether they are adopted or not.”

“She is an exceptional woman. Did Cass bring Milo along?”

I grabbed a stack of napkins and began setting them around the table. “He did. What a beautiful dog. And he’s so smart. Cass mentioned that he made an excellent partner, and after watching him for just over an hour, I can see that he probably is. I’m not sure he can help Cass with the strategizing, but I’d want to have him by my side if I came face-to-face with a bad guy with a gun.”

“Speaking of bad guys,” Gracie said as she handed me a pitcher of water and asked me to pour it into the glasses she had already set out. “I had to run into town to pick up a few things, and I saw Ida Cunningham.” Ida ran the local inn with her sister, Maude. Neither of the women, who must be well into their sixties now, had ever married or had children, like Aunt Gracie and Tom. “She told me that she’d heard from one of her vendors that the sheriff let it slip that he had evidence he wasn’t making public regarding Tracy’s murder. Now, we both know that poor old man from the campground didn’t kill that child, yet as far as I can tell, the sheriff has all but closed the case. If he has evidence that he is not sharing, I think the folks who live in this town ought to call him on it.”

“Cass said that the mayor is putting pressure on the sheriff to get the case closed. The man they arrested isn’t helping the matter. So far, he isn’t defending himself. Cass thinks he is being bribed or threatened by the real killer.” I set the half-full pitcher of water on the counter after filling the glasses on the table. “Cass made it sound as if part of the problem is that they don’t have evidence other than what implicates Buck Darwin. If Ida is right and the sheriff is sitting on evidence, I’m not sure that even Cass knows about it.”

Gracie glanced out the window and waved at Tom Walden, who was walking toward the main house from his little cabin. “Ida might not have her facts straight. A good amount of the time she doesn’t. But it might not hurt to mention the idea of suppressed evidence to Cass. If nothing else, he can do some digging around.”

“Actually, I’m having dinner with Cass tomorrow. I was going to let you know so you didn’t bother to make a big meal, thinking I’d be here.”

“That will work out well for me. Wednesday is bingo night at the church. I usually grab a meal with some of my friends before we head over.”

“That sounds like fun. I’ll keep that in mind for future Wednesdays. I don’t want you to change up your regular routine at all just because I’m here. I might be here for a while, so don’t think of me as a guest who needs to be attended to.”

Tom walked in and hung up his coat on the rack. Gracie smiled at him.

“Of course, I don’t think of you as a guest. This is your home. It always will be. Tom and I want you to feel right at home. Don’t we, dear?”

“Absolutely.” Tom kissed Gracie on the cheek and sat down at the head of the table.

I couldn’t help but smile. Apparently, my hunch about the two of them hadn’t been all that far off after all.

Chapter 4

Wednesday

Waking to find that I had absolutely nothing on my to-do list was something I would never get used to. I supposed if I was going to be staying at the lake for an extended period, that I needed to figure out a way to fill my days. I’d known exactly what every moment of every day would consist of since I was a teenager with goals and dreams still to be realized, but now that those goals and dreams were lost, all I really felt was empty.

Sitting up, I glanced out the window. The day had dawned bright and sunny, but the weather forecast indicated there was a storm brewing and we could expect it to make its way over the summit and into the little valley where Foxtail Lake was located by nightfall. I slipped out of bed and pulled on an old pair of sweats. The room was chilly, as it would be through the long winter, and while the heating system in the old house had been on its last legs since I’d lived here the first time, I knew that there was a stack of wood already split and seasoned just waiting to fill the six fireplaces that helped to heat the lake house.

Glancing out the window, I could see that Gracie was already outside tending to her garden. After brushing my teeth and running a brush through my hair, I headed downstairs and poured myself a large cup of coffee. Sitting alone in the large, farmhouse-style kitchen was not how I wanted to start my day, so I topped off my mug and wandered out into the garden. The brilliant color of the aspens and maples that tented the yard provided a colorful backdrop for the beds of flowers that had begun to fade but at one time had created a watercolor of oranges, yellows, reds, and browns.

“You’re up early,” I said as I approached Gracie.

She looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Storms coming. It’ll be a cold one at that. I wanted to get the beds tucked in for the winter before the first snow.”

Tilting my head back, I looked toward the sunny blue sky. “Do you think it will snow? It seems early.”

Leaning back onto her heels, she looked up into the sky as well. “It’s hard to say with these mid-October storms. Some will bring snow and others rain. But the flowers are starting to die off anyway, and the forecast is for a cooler than usual end to October, so I figured it would be best to be prepared. Tom went into town for additional hay for the beds along the water. If you aren’t busy today, we could use some help getting everything covered.”

“I’d be happy to help.”

“I have fresh pumpkin muffins in the tin if you want a little something with that coffee,” Gracie informed me.

“Thanks, but I’ll stick with just coffee for now. Do you have an extra pair of gloves?”

“In the garden shed.”

It actually felt good to do something physically demanding yet totally mindless. Once Tom arrived with the bales of hay he’d purchased to complete the winterization of the garden, I set to work transferring the bales to the various parts of the yard, breaking them down and then raking them over the delicate shrubs and flowers, which would die off over the winter but reappear during the longer and warmer days of spring. Gracie’s garden really was a work of art. She had daffodil bulbs that bloomed early in the spring, providing the first hint that winter was finally over. Just about the time they were dying off, the summer blooms—daisies, coneflowers, and wild roses—appeared, and just when it seemed as if they were spent and the garden would lose its brilliance, along came fall flowers like chrysanthemums to close out the year. The lake itself was beautiful in all its seasons. Deep blue water sprinkled with foxtails and lilies provided homes for the various types of wildlife contained within. When I was a child, I’d swim and poke around in Gracie’s old rowboat during the summer; then, come winter, it was on with the ice skates.