Chapter 38
Annie was cleaning up from a late breakfast when the phone rang.
“Hey,” Bea said on the other end of the phone. “I talked to Bryant.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said he’d check into all of it and get back with us.”
“That’s it?”
“Oh yes—he thanked me for the information about the strange man and car I saw last night. In fact, he seemed more interested in him than the note, really.”
“You didn’t mention that to me,” Annie said, wiping the counter off with her dish towel.
Beatrice then explained what she had seen the night before. “Probably nothing, but with all the weird stuff happening, I thought it best to give Bryant the license plate number and let him know.”
“I suppose so,” Annie responded. “Will you let me know when he gets back to you?”
“If he gets back to me. He thanked me, was very polite, but made sure I knew this was police business.”
“Typical,” Annie said, but she knew he was right. Unless he needed more help from them, he had no obligation to fill them in on what was happening.
If she had time today, she’d try to sleuth around. But she was feeling a pull toward her art journal; if she had some free time, she wanted to work on it, along with her Hanukkah book. She was so thrilled that the scrapbooking supply businesses now carried many different kinds of Hanukkah materials. She loved the pieced-paper menorah kit she had purchased and the chipboard Star of David. And there was so much Jewish-themed paper that it was hard to choose. A few years ago, it was much harder to find anything relating to any other religion but Christianity. Cookie used to go off a bit about it—but Cookie was a Wiccan, an unconventional religion to say the least. Cookie sometimes used non-pagan paper and embellishments for pagan purposes. She relied a great deal on nature, celestial, and Halloween-themed papers.
Annie’s heart sank. She still missed Cookie and wondered about her frequently. Whatever became of her friend who was wrongly accused of murder? She was probably one of the kindest people she’d ever met. Last year Bryant slipped her information that he knew that Cookie was fine and that was all he could tell her. That settled Annie’s mind somewhat. She knew that Cookie had escaped from jail and was on the run—and that could lead to a number of dangerous situations. But she still yearned for her friendship and she knew the other scrapbookers did, as well.
“What are we having tonight?” Sam said, coming into the kitchen for a glass of milk.
“I’m making latkes,” Annie said. “Would you like to help shred the potatoes?”
He nodded. “Yep, I’m a good shredder.”
“I remember,” Annie said. “So I can count on you?”
He nodded and took a long sip of milk. “Why do I have to go to school tomorrow?”
“It’s only a few more days,” Annie said, folding her towel and hanging it over the side of her kitchen counter to air dry.
“Yes, but it’s Hanukkah,” he said.
“We’ve talked about this. Maybe someday we’ll be okay with you missing school for Hanukkah, but not this year. You’ve already missed more days than you should because of the flu. School is important.”
“Someone trying to get out of school tomorrow?” Mike said as he walked into the room.
“Yep,” Annie said.
“But I don’t understand why we have Christmas off and not Hanukkah,” her son said.
“You know what? I don’t understand it either,” Annie said. “But it’s just the way it is.”
She tried to shrug it off. Where she grew up, it was the same way, even in a heavily populated Jewish area. For children, school was the most important thing. Besides, her parents were secular and most of her friends’ parents were, too. Hanukkah was not that big of a holiday for them.
“Poor boy,” Mike said with false sympathy.
“How about a cookie?” said Annie.
Sam’s face lit.
“Did someone say cookies?” Ben said as he came bounding into the kitchen.
Annie watched her three boys sharing cookies in her vintage kitchen. She’d miss this tiny kitchen if they ever saved enough money to move.
Later, after the boys got involved in a game with their father, she sat down at the computer and found an e-mail from Vera.
Annie, can you find out anything about Theresa Graves? She’s a big-time scrapbooker. But she’s been heckling Sheila. And she’s hanging out with a guy who’s been watching Sheila closely. We are still in the gardens. I stopped by the visitor center and hopped on the computer.
Annie looked at her clock; the e-mail had been sent an hour ago.
Heckling Sheila? How odd. Sounded like another unbalanced sort was on the cruise with them. Poor Sheila. Why couldn’t this scrapbook cruise have gone smoothly for her?
Annie clicked on the crime database and typed in “Theresa Graves.” A number of hits came up. The woman had quite the record: domestic violence, DUI, a drug arrest, and . . . attempted murder. Attempted murder? This was the woman heckling Sheila? Could she be the person who’d poisoned Allie and Hank? And what would she have against Sheila?
Annie grabbed her cell phone and sent Vera a text message. She hoped Vera received it before it was too late.