CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

GRACIE

As soon as Clarence texted her to meet him at the Historical Commission’s office with all her paperwork for the house, Gracie grabbed the hat she was knitting, wrapped a scarf around her neck, tossed her phone in her purse, and was out the door with a quick explanation to Ada. Her nerves had been in a knot since the officers threatened her with eviction. No amount of reassurance could untie it. Clarence was sure they would get to the bottom of things with his lawyer friend’s help. But what if the eviction was valid?

But what if it wasn’t? She allowed herself to hope a little. Hope in the love Gran had for her.

As usual, Clarence was standing outside the building housing the Historical Commission, his expression brighter than the sun reflecting off the buildings. She realized she hadn’t seen him since he’d come to her aid at the house. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Let’s go see Ms. Shaw and get this mystery solved.”

He led her two blocks to another office building. They bypassed the front desk and went straight to the elevator. When the doors closed, he leaned over to her. “You have bags under your eyes. Have you slept?”

“Nice thing to say, new boyfriend.”

He chuckled, pulling her close. “You know what I mean.”

She looked at the sweater vest he was wearing. “I don’t know what I’ll do if the eviction notice is valid. Not just losing Gran’s house—” She closed her mouth.

“You’ll have to go back to Richmond?”

She didn’t bother to tell him that she didn’t have anywhere in Richmond to go back to. Her mind couldn’t even imagine what that would be like. She would have to go back to square one with the yarn shop, searching for a location and praying to find something affordable. Once Gran’s bills were settled, there might be a little money left, but she would have to divide it with Uncle Rand, since he was Gran’s only living child. She still had a little of the annuity money, and if she sold all the fixtures she’d bought, that would provide a little revenue. Like Ada said, she would think of something. Not the bright future Gran tried to give her but one that looked more like her dark past.

A feeling pushed back against all her dread, pushing her to hope.

The elevator doors opened, and they were facing an all-glass wall. The door read SHAW AND ASSOCIATES. He led her through the door to a reception desk. The office was a different kind of quiet from Clarence’s office. People talked and phones rang, but it was muffled, like she had cotton in her ears.

The receptionist looked up. “Mr. Evans. How are you? Haven’t seen you around much. I haven’t had a chance to congratulate you on the William Still discovery.”

“Thank you. It was quite exciting.” Clarence gave her a gracious smile.

The receptionist’s phone rang. “Ms. Shaw is in her office,” she said as she picked up the receiver.

Another short walk and they were at the corner office. Behind the desk sat a striking Black woman, hair flowing over her shoulders, makeup expertly applied to her butterscotch skin. Gracie was suddenly self-conscious. Ms. Shaw dripped in confidence. She looked like success. Gracie was sure she looked like a tired, stressed-out failure, even though she’d worn her repurposed cashmere sweater and an A-line skirt with high-heeled boots.

Ms. Shaw rose and shook Clarence’s hand. “Clarence, how are you?”

“I’m well.” He motioned to Gracie. “This is Ms. Gracie McNeil.”

“Nice to meet you.” She shook Gracie’s hand. “Have a seat. Tell me how I can help you. Clarence, you made your issue sound quite urgent when you called.”

“I’ll let Gracie explain,” he said, giving Gracie’s hand a squeeze.

Gracie shifted in her chair and explained most of the story. She left out the secret room, but she had to force herself to keep talking when she talked about Gran passing. Clarence reached over and squeezed her hand.

Ms. Shaw gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry for your loss. And this must be adding a great deal of stress to your life in addition to grieving.”

“Thank you.” Gracie said. “Is there anything I can do?”

“There is plenty we can do. Let me start with a few questions. Was there anything in your grandmother’s estate about a sale?”

Gracie shook her head. “Not anything I saw.”

“Could paperwork be somewhere else? Safety deposit box or such? Maybe with other family members?” Ms. Shaw asked.

“Again, not that I know of.” Gracie pulled out her sock and started knitting, needing to soothe her nerves. “And the judge in the probate court ordered all parties involved to turn over all paperwork. I believe everyone in the family did.”

“When people are grieving, sometimes important things slip through the cracks. Were any of the bills paid late? Particularly taxes?”

Gracie’s jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

“Because nonpayment of taxes is one of the few ways a person can lose a house that’s already paid for.” Ms. Shaw glanced down at Gracie’s knitting, a curious look on her face. “One more question. Did either of you do an auction sale search?”

Clarence shook his head.

“I didn’t even know that I should look.” Gracie tried to stay calm, but her palms were sweating. She placed the knitting in her lap.

“You wouldn’t have known to look.” Ms. Shaw smiled and put her hands on her keyboard. “Let’s start there.” She asked Gracie for the address and for her ID. She typed something, waited a beat, and then leaned forward.

Gracie held her breath.

“Well, that’s interesting.” She tapped a few more keys. “There is no record of a tax auction sale for your house. I’m looking back to last year.”

Gracie let out a long breath.

“Nope, nothing.” Ms. Shaw tapped more keys. “Eviction notices are public records, so I’m checking the court records.”

“The officers who came to my house said the warrant was incomplete.” Gracie reached into the folder. “Here is the copy they gave me.” She set it on the desk in front of Ms. Shaw.

Ms. Shaw paused and glanced at it. “It’s very incomplete.”

“I thought the same thing,” Clarence said, frowning.

Ms. Shaw turned her eyes back to the screen. She typed for a few moments, then her eyebrows raised. “Oh, it’s them.”

“Who?” Gracie leaned forward.

“First Trust Loans and Investments,” Ms. Shaw grumbled.

Gracie jumped. “They sent me a letter.” She flipped through the folder and gave Ms. Shaw the paper. “I got it a few weeks ago. I called them to get information about the account, but they wouldn’t tell me anything because it was in my gran’s name.”

“Did they ask you to send them a deed as proof?”

Gracie leaned forward. “Yes, they did, but I didn’t do it.”

Ms. Shaw smiled broadly. “Ms. McNeil, you’re about to make history.”

“I am?” Gracie squeaked.

“Yes. First Trust Loans and Investments has been defrauding people for years.” Her fingers typed furiously now. “As a matter of fact, there have been a few victims in your neighborhood.”

Gracie turned to Clarence. “Ms. Lila told me about it.” She turned back to Ms. Shaw. “Clarence’s grandmother and my gran were friends, and she told me how someone had come around and tried to buy the whole block but that some of the homeowners, like my gran, held out.”

“But some of them gave in,” Ms. Shaw said sadly. “More like were tricked into thinking that they owed a massive amount of back taxes. It happened the same way with you. Officers show up, stating they have an eviction notice. Strange or incomplete filings at the courts. Threats and, more importantly, requests for a copy of the deed.”

“But wouldn’t the homeowners research their tax history?” Gracie asked.

“Most of the victims were elderly and didn’t have a Clarence to help them.”

Gracie smiled, her gratitude to him overflowing. And love. Yup. She loved him. “So now what?”

“Every time someone has tried to take them to court, they haven’t succeeded because of lack of evidence. The people at First Trust Loans and Investments are very good at their game and cover their tracks well. I believe they even have someone in the courts or government working with them. But with you, we have proof and can take them to court, even if it’s just for falsifying documents,” Ms. Shaw said.

Gracie thought for a moment, her heart aching for the families who already lost their homes. Their history. “Let’s do it.”

Ms. Shaw grinned. “Great. Do I have permission to start working on this on your behalf?”

Gracie fought to stay upright. Retain a lawyer? “I—um—am not exactly in the position—”

Ms. Shaw smiled at her. “Pro bono. Clarence called in a favor.”

Gracie looked at him with shock. His ears turned pink. “You needed some answers immediately.”

“Thank you both.” Gracie fought back tears. “And yes, you have my permission to look into this.”

Ms. Shaw’s expression transformed into a look that meant trouble. “It will be my pleasure. Stealing people’s homes makes me very angry. I will send all this information over to the state revenue department and make some other calls.”

Gracie and Clarence thanked her and left the office. Gracie wasn’t sure her feet were touching the ground. She wasn’t going to be evicted. Not only that, she might save someone in the future from losing their home. She grinned all the way to the elevator, but as she walked and reality set in, tears formed in her eyes.

She was going to have the life Gran wanted for her. The house would stay in the family, and she would keep her promise to Gran and open the yarn store.

She had lots of bad in her life, but this—this was really good.

Saturday dawned, and Gracie lay in bed for a few minutes before moving.

She had slept soundly last night. The first time in a long while. With the house issues resolved, her mind seemed to be able to fully rest. After she showered and had some breakfast, she called Clarence.

He answered, his voice low. “I was just thinking about you.”

“You were?”

“Just thanking God that your house issue got resolved.”

“Yes, thank God,” she said. “I don’t know how much more I could have taken.”

“Are you busy today?”

“I have my knitting class this afternoon.” She told him about the situation with the bag.

“That’s pretty serious. Are you okay?”

“Yes. Like you’ve told me before, it’s going to be okay.” She leaned back on the sofa. “But I do want to go somewhere with you.”

“Dinner?”

“No. The library.”

There was silence on the line for a second. “You want to go back to researching? The last time …”

“I know. I had a really hard time seeing my mother’s and Gran’s obituaries. But I’m better now. I can handle it because I now know how much they loved me. How much I meant to them.” The letter she’d found in her wooden box had wiped away any doubt she had about their love. “I want to find out if there are more amazing women in my family.”

“You’re amazing.”

“You are too.”

“How about Monday?”

“Great.”

“And dinner tonight?”

She laughed. “Okay.”

“And my knitting class.”

She tried to make her voice sound stern. “Okay, now. You’re asking for a lot.”

“Can I ask for more? If I did, would you still say yes?”

She gaped, unable to formulate words in response. What was he hinting at?

“Gracie?”

“I think …,” she said. “I think it would depend on what you’re asking. I’m not down for searching dusty boxes.”

He laughed. “That’s fair. See you tonight.”

“I look forward to it.”

Gracie had to practice not grinning as she got the classroom ready for the girls. She needed to be serious, but every time she thought of Clarence asking for more, she couldn’t hold back her smile. She finally sobered when she thought of what she was about to do. She prayed it would go as she planned.

Gracie had talked to Bella’s mother about the girl’s behavior. “I will certainly talk to her,” the woman had said. “I’m surprised she acts like that since she loves the class so much. It’s all she talks about. She even asked me if she could enroll when you offer the next class.”

Gracie was cheerful as usual when the girls arrived. Dani, Bella, Trinity, and Rylee went straight back to the table and took their normal seats. Mia lagged behind while Gracie closed the door.

“Is everything all right, Mia?” she asked as they started toward the classroom.

“Yeah. Well, I wanted to say thank you for talking to my dad.”

Gracie tried not to look surprised but failed. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“He canceled my punishment.” She beamed up at Gracie.

They had stopped near the foot of the staircase. “He could have decided that on his own.”

“He told me that you talked to him. And about my mom.” She looked down at her shoes. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Mia looked over to where the red Cojo bag had been. “It’s still missing?”

Gracie took a few steps away from Mia, motioning her to stay where she was, and peeked around the staircase. The girls were still at the table, engrossed in their conversation. She moved back to Mia. “Tell me what you know about the bag.”

Mia’s face morphed into a frown. “You still think I took it.”

“No, I don’t,” Gracie said. She had to choose her words carefully. “I think I know what happened to it. But I need to know, did you pick it up or anything? Open it?”

Mia shook her head. “I never even touched it. My dad says, ‘Look with your eyes, not with your hands.’”

Gracie smiled. “My gran used to say that to me too.”

“Please believe me, Miss Gracie. I didn’t even touch it.”

She put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Please don’t worry. Remember, whatever happens in class today, don’t worry.”

Mia gave her a quizzical look but nodded.

They went back to the classroom. Gracie let them talk a little more before she gave the lesson for the day—how to tell the right side from the wrong side of their work. “It’s really simple,” she said.

Dani shook her head. “You always say that. None of this was simple. Learning to purl was hard.”

Gracie laughed. “But you mastered it. It only took a little practice.”

At the halfway point of the class, Gracie stood up. “Girls, I have something uncomfortable to talk to you about.”

They all put down their knitting and stared at her. “What’s wrong, Miss Gracie?” Dani asked.

“I haven’t been able to locate the missing bag.”

“The red bag,” Trinity said. “The one Mia stole.”

Mia balled her fists. “I didn’t steal it.”

Gracie held up her hand for quiet. “I don’t know who stole it. But it has been stolen. This class is the only group of people who have come into the shop since we aren’t officially open.” She took a deep breath. “Because of that, I am going to have to cancel the rest of our classes.”

All the girls reacted like she suspected they would, with protests and pleas.

“But we already told you that Mia has it,” Rylee said.

“I have spoken to Mia’s father,” Gracie said, keeping her voice calm. She hoped that the girls would deduce from her words that Mia was innocent, like she wanted them to.

“Then who took it?” Rylee looked around the table and then back at Gracie.

“I don’t know, but I think it would be best if we end the classes until we figure it out,” Gracie said. “Next week will be our last class until the bag is found.”

Dani perked up. “So if the bag comes back, we can have class again?”

Gracie studied the girl. “Yes. If the person who took it returns it, classes will resume.” She didn’t add that the thief wouldn’t be allowed to come back.

Trinity folded her arms and let out a frustrated sigh. “So we all get punished because someone”—she looked at Mia—“stole a bag?”

“Until I know who stole it, this is the only option we have,” Gracie said, returning to her seat.

The class was significantly duller after her announcement, as she expected it would be. Except for Mia. She had brightened. She chatted and laughed like nothing had happened.

Bella sneered at her. “Why are you so happy?”

“‘Cause I didn’t steal the bag.” She returned her attention back to her knitting. “Someone else is about to ruin the whole class, and it’s not me.”

The other girls groaned.

Rylee had a hard look on her face. “I like this class.”

Trinity huffed. “We all do, but somebody had to go and mess it up.”

They ended the class dejected, faces long as they went to the door. Trinity’s mom picked up the three carpoolers, and Trinity immediately began explaining what had happened. Trinity’s mother looked at Gracie. “Is that true?”

Gracie nodded. “I’ll be giving parents a call later.”

Except for Mia’s dad.