Chapter Twenty

Amber followed Stan and the cheesecake as they entered Kathy and Frank’s home.

It felt odd walking in without knocking, but it probably would have felt even stranger if Stan had knocked. For Amber as well, since she’d spent considerable time here. For many years their mothers had traded day-care arrangements while both worked part-time jobs, coordinating their schedules. When her mother was working, Stan’s mother cared for her and Stan, and when Kathy was working, Amber’s mother cared for the two of them.

For all the time they’d spent together until they went their separate ways after college, they should have had a severe case of separation anxiety. They’d nearly been joined at the hip.

Kathy sat at one end of the couch knitting, while Frank sat in the recliner watching a basketball game. She smiled brightly at Stan as they entered the living room.

“This is a surprise.” Her gaze dropped to the cheesecake, and her smile transformed into a deep frown. “What did you do?” she asked, her voice taking on an accusing edge.

Amber turned her head so Kathy wouldn’t see her trying not to laugh. She’d told Stan his mother would know something was up, but he’d insisted on buying the cheesecake anyway.

Like a little boy who’d just been caught with his fingers in the cookie jar, he blushed. “We need your help, so I brought a peace offering.”

She could see the juxtaposition of thought as Kathy tried to connect the concept of help with an apology.

“It’s about Amber’s squirrel statue.”

Kathy’s smile returned. “I know it’s not her usual caliber, and the colors don’t coordinate with my garden, but it certainly doesn’t need a cheesecake to apologize. As long as no one sees it, I’m fine. But I’ll take the cheesecake anyway.” Kathy set her knitting down, stood, and extended her hands to take the cheesecake from Stan. Her eyes lit up when she saw the label and noted that it was her favorite kind.

As soon as she closed her fingers around the box, Stan said, “Mom, we have a hidden camera in the statue.”

It was a good thing he didn’t let it go. Kathy’s hands went limp, and her arms dropped to her side. “What are you talking about?”

Stan looked down at the cheesecake, as if intently reading the label. “We saw you doing your gardening, and we saw you and Dad, well, you know. I’m sorry.”

Kathy’s eyes lost focus, and Amber could see the exact moment Kathy figured out what she and Stan had seen because her cheeks turned a deep red.

Stan chose that moment to look up. When he saw his mother’s red face, he blushed as well. “What we wanted to see was the person who keeps moving Gnorman around, but they knocked the statue over when they came into the yard and set it right when they left. It didn’t catch who is doing this. So we need your help.”

“What do you want me to do? I can’t make sure they don’t knock it over again, but they probably won’t. I would think whoever knocked it over was afraid they broke it and won’t go near it the second time.”

“I need to anchor it so it won’t fall, and I need to make sure it’s aimed right at Gnorman so we can catch them red-handed. Or red-gnomed.”

“I don’t see a problem with that. Do you, Frank?”

Frank shook his head without taking his attention off the game.

“We’re pretty sure it’s someone in the garden club, and you know how fast news travels around there.”

Amber bit her lower lip. Kathy showed no sign of acknowledging that she was the largest perpetrator of spreading said news, otherwise known as gossip. All she did was nod.

Stan and Kathy walked into the backyard while Amber took the cheesecake into the kitchen and cut it into slices. It was already dark outside, but enough residual light from the house and the glow of the streetlights allowed her to watch as Stan showed his mother where the lens was hidden. She poked and prodded, nodding as Stan explained how it worked before stepping back inside.

Frank picked up one of the plates and returned to the television, while Amber stayed in the kitchen with Stan and Kathy making small talk only for as long as it took to eat the dessert without rushing.

On the way back to her townhouse, Stan was silent for so long that she began to get nervous.

“What’s wrong?” she finally asked as they rounded the last corner to her house.

“Nothing. I’m just trying to figure out what we’re going to say when we confront this person once we know the truth. Have you thought about the possibilities?”

“Yes, and I haven’t a clue who it is. But we have a good start on who it isn’t. It isn’t Naomi; we found Gnorman behind her place first.”

Stan pulled into her driveway and turned off the ignition, but he didn’t exit the truck. “It’s not Ronnie or her mother, Minnie. We found him dressed like a pirate at the theater.”

Amber held out one hand and counted down the non-suspects on her fingers. “It’s not Libby; we found him dressed like a clown at her place. And it’s not Sylvia. That’s where he was the octogenarian rock star.”

She kept counting on her fingers while Stan continued. “It’s not Andy; that’s where we found him dressed as Santa. And it’s not my mother.”

“We also know it’s not Becky because Gnorman was stolen from her yard in the first place.” She held out both hands. “That’s seven who it’s not. And it’s not you or me.” Her whole body sagged as she did the mental math.

“Nine down, seventy to go.”

She sighed, not feeling the least bit encouraged. The hidden camera had to work. “You don’t have to see me to the door. I’m tired, I just want to go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

It was six excruciating days before Gnorman disappeared. Amber figured out that the Gnapper did the opposite of making up for lost time by taking extra time to compensate for moving Gnorman quickly out of some of the other yards. Either that, or besides having something against her, the Gnapper also had something against Kathy, because Gnorman’s outlandish costume clashed so badly with Kathy’s color scheme of the year.

Every day they diligently went into Kathy’s backyard to reset the recorder to erase the memory card and start again. That way they wouldn’t have to watch as much nothingness when Gnorman finally disappeared again. Now, finally, they had the answer.

Kathy had phoned Stan to say that Gnorman vanished while she went to the mall. Even though the screen was smaller than his PC, Stan arrived with his laptop to pick Amber up, and they went straight to Kathy and Frank’s, although Stan made a quick trip at the drive-thru to pick up burgers for everyone’s supper.

Amber was in no rush to eat. She knew they would have to watch an entire night’s worth of video, and into the afternoon, and she already knew how long it would take. While prepared to eat leisurely, she hadn’t expected Stan to watch her like a hawk to make sure she ate every crumb.

“Doesn’t this thing go any faster?” Kathy asked.

Amber rested one hand on Stan’s forearm. “It only goes one speed. All we can do is wait it out.”

To kill time, knowing they would have their answer soon, Amber thought she could make a game out of it. After all, if the Gazette was holding a contest, she could do the same, on a much smaller scale, of course. “Tell me, Kathy, who do you think it is?”

“I think Stan should guess. After all, you two are the ones who have been chasing Gnorman around Bloomfield.”

Stan’s expression surely was the same as her own. She’d been positive that Kathy would be anxious to share her opinion, with a full story of why she considered that person her prime suspect.

“I have no idea,” Stan replied. “We’ve been trying to figure this out all season. All we know is that it’s a member of the garden club.”

Also, someone with a terrible pentameter.

Finally the image on the screen lightened, and the strip of visible sky showed the glorious colors of the sunrise. In a way, it was a shame that Stan hadn’t gotten the whole sunrise, but then again, at this speed, it was over in under a minute. The sky was blue and the morning had begun.

This time, when Kathy came out to weed the garden, she was dressed in good jeans, her hair was combed, and she wore makeup. As she weeded her garden, she kept turning around and waving at the camera. Every time Kathy saw herself waving in fast-action, she blushed, but she kept watching. Then she picked up her tools and disappeared.

“That sure looks funny at this speed. If this had audio, I would have sounded like Alvin and the Chipmunks, wouldn’t I?”

Stan nodded. “Yes. But the point here is to watch, not listen. The system with audio capabilities cost more, and I decided we didn’t need to hear the person. It’s even unlikely he or she would speak. We only need to see who it is. It should be soon.”

They continued watching, and suddenly the screen went black.

“What?” Stan gasped, and blinked. “I’ve had this laptop barely a year. How could the monitor go like that?” He made a little grumble that Amber couldn’t understand, which was probably not a bad thing. She did catch the gist that his laptop was no longer under warranty, and a few snide comments about tech support.

Stan ran his fingers through his hair. “This is frustrating, but we can still watch it at home. I installed the program on both my laptop and my PC. We can—”

The picture appeared again, as bright as day . . . without Gnorman.

All three of them sat there, staring at Kathy’s pretty pink garden.

Stan’s eyebrows lowered and he crossed his arms over his chest, turning to glare at his mother. “Who did you tell about the hidden camera, Mother? Wasn’t there a garden club committee meeting a few days ago?”

Amber cringed. Stan calling Kathy “Mother” instead of “Mom” wasn’t a good sign. Kathy was in deep, deep trouble.

Kathy raised both palms in front of her. “I think I might have told Libby. But you know Libby. She likes to play detective. I thought she might have some ideas about Gnorman’s next location.”

Stan gritted his teeth. “And?”

Kathy lowered her head marginally. “I might have mentioned it to Pamela. She’s the president, you know.”

Stan continued to glare at her. “And?”

Kathy looked away. “Possibly Sylvia. But it was Sylvia who told Victoria.”

“And so on, and so on, and so on. Is there anyone on the board you didn’t tell?”

“I just told you. I didn’t tell Victoria. Sylvia did.”

Amber turned to Stan. “If that was three days ago . . .”

He nodded. “. . . Then the entire garden club has to know by now.”

Stan stood, folded his laptop without shutting it off properly, tucked it under one arm, and strode out the door.

“He’s mad, isn’t he? I’m so sorry. I only told the board members. I thought they’d want to know.”

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.” Amber scooped up her purse.

She didn’t know how, but they would have to. She’d circled the day that her garden club membership came up for renewal, and when she’d flipped the calendar, it had jumped out at her like it was on fire.

“I have to talk to Stan. I’ll see you on Sunday at church.”