The Note Keeper (Gracetown #6)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Taylor Higgs didn’t spook easily. But right now, the hairs on her neck stood at attention. Perhaps taking the garbage bin out to the street in the dead of night hadn’t been the best idea.

She’d arrived in GraceTown this evening in time to see several neighbors hauling trash bins to the ends of their driveways. The sight had brought a smile to her lips.

Her world might have been knocked off its axis, but at least one thing remained constant: The garbage trucks still made their rounds on Monday.

When she’d stepped into the stale air of her childhood home and been struck by the stench of rotting food, Taylor had known what her priority had to be. She would clear out the food and clean the kitchen.

But before putting on rubber gloves, she’d taken a few minutes to wander the house that held all her childhood memories, both happy and sad. Those memories had flooded her, tugging at her heartstrings and bringing fresh tears to her eyes as she went from room to room.

When she’d reached the doorway to her father’s bedroom, well, that had brought a sharp stab of pain .

There would be his clothes and personal items to go through, but Taylor wasn’t ready for that. Simply being back home and knowing he wouldn’t be here ever again was difficult enough. She hadn’t been able to muster the strength to step inside his room, much less open a drawer or closet.

Perhaps tomorrow, when she wasn’t so tired from a day of traveling, she would tackle that chore.

Tonight, ridding the house of spoiled food was her priority. Once that job was completed, she would collapse on the sofa, utterly exhausted.

For a brief moment, she’d contemplated waiting until Thursday—the next trash pickup day—to set out the bin she’d filled with expired and rotting food.

But that had made no sense. In her mind, the job wouldn’t truly be complete until the garbage was gone. That was why she was standing at the edge of the driveway, positioning the bin for easy access in the morning.

She was ready to return to the house when an icy chill traveled up her spine, a feeling of foreboding made worse by the darkness wrapping around her like a shroud.

The sky overhead was a dark abyss. Streetlights were of little help—they ran a scant two to a block in this section of Maplewood Village. The neighborhood was old, with many places to hide, especially when the moon had gone into hiding.

Taylor knew this part of GraceTown, had grown up in this house on this very block. Back then, she’d often walked home after dark. Not once had she ever been afraid.

But that was years ago. The world had changed, and right now, her inner alarm system clanged loudly in her head.

As Taylor released her grip on the container, she was seized by the knowledge that someone was watching from the shadows.

Oh-so-casually, she glanced around, looking and listening for the slightest movement .

The only sounds were the hoot of an owl and a dog barking in the distance.

Since it was late, nearly one, and this was a family neighborhood filled with adults who had to go to work and children who had school in the morning, the houses around her stood dark and silent.

There were two vehicles on the street, both several houses down. The white Toyota SUV, parked under a streetlight, was clearly empty. The other, a dark-colored sedan, sat in the shadows. From where Taylor stood, she couldn’t tell if anyone was inside.

If this were a horror movie, she would stride over to the vehicle to confront the occupant.

Taylor had no intention of being so foolish.

Though she didn’t run, she quick-stepped back into the house. When she slipped inside, her heart pounded, and her breath came in short puffs. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the locks, and she sighed with relief when the dead bolt clicked into place.

For several long seconds, Taylor stood with her back against the solid oak door and waited for her galloping heart to slow to a trot.

Once it did, she turned toward the living room. That’s when she realized that the blinds on the front window remained open, giving anyone outside a clear view of the inside of the house.

Her heart was back to the races, this time in a full-out sprint.

Earlier, the view of the majestic maple tree out front had buoyed her spirits. Now, the unyielding darkness brought fear to the pit of her stomach.

In several long strides, Taylor was at the window, shutting the blinds before sprinting to the kitchen. She prayed she’d locked the back door.

Thank goodness the deadbolt was in place, but the night breeze ruffling the curtains at the window over the sink brought fresh worries.

All the windows . Open.

Her heart did a tap dance against her ribs.

As soon as she’d arrived, Taylor had opened every window in the modest Cape Cod home. Now, she went from room to room, hurriedly pulling each one shut before locking the sash and closing the blinds or curtains.

Once she finished, she looked down at her trembling hands.

Buck up, she told herself. You’re in GraceTown, not Chicago.

The sound of a car engine outside had her skirting the bed in her old room and moving to the window. Sliding the curtains aside with one finger, Taylor peered out in time to see the sedan drive slowly past the house.

She was too far away to see facial features, but from the size and build of the person behind the wheel, the driver looked like a man.

A neighbor, she assured herself. Perhaps one who worked the late shift and was heading off to his job.

But how many night shifts started after one in the morning?

Taylor let the curtains fall back into place and took several calming breaths, telling herself that in the next few days, she would discover which neighbor owned the car and find out his story.

She looked forward to feeling very foolish for worrying.

The next morning, Taylor’s alarm sounded much earlier than she wanted it to. Maybe it was the lumpy mattress on her childhood bed—she hadn’t been able to bring herself to sleep in her dad’s bedroom—or maybe it was the feeling that someone had been outside watching. Regardless of the reason, Taylor had slept poorly .

As much as she wanted to roll over and bury her face in the pillow, she had to get up. She needed to start getting things settled.

But first, coffee.

Thirty minutes later, after checking for signs of the sedan, Taylor took a seat on the front porch. Except for the UGG slippers keeping her toes toasty warm, she was dressed and ready to seize the day. She’d nearly finished her second cup of extra-strong French roast and was contemplating a third when a white Honda minivan pulled into her driveway.

Taylor set her cup on the wicker table beside the glider, pulled to her feet and strode to the edge of the porch.

The personalized license plate read TWINMOM and sported brightly colored flower stickers on the side windows.

Seeing Polly Cooper step from the vehicle into the bright sunlight brought a smile to Taylor’s lips. Though she and her high school bestie hadn’t spent much time together since graduation, they’d remained connected through social media.

“I was planning on texting you,” Taylor called out.

“Now you don’t have to.” The bright smile Polly offered Taylor arrowed straight to her heart.

Texting and an occasional FaceTime call were nice, but seeing a close friend in person, well, nothing beat that.

Polly’s hair, as dark as Taylor’s was light, fell in waves that stopped just short of her shoulders. In her jeans and sweater, she looked more like a college girl than a woman pushing thirty. Taylor still found it hard to believe her friend was the mother of five.

Instead of heading off to college with Taylor, Polly married her high school sweetheart and started having babies. A lifestyle that appeared to be working well for her.

When Polly reached her, she surprised Taylor by wrapping her arms around her and enfolding her in a huge hug.

Taylor gave Polly a hard squeeze before stepping back .

“I was sorry to hear about your dad.” Polly’s voice thickened with emotion. “How are you holding up?”

Taylor forced a shaky smile. “I’m hanging in there.”

“He was a great guy.”

“Yes, yes, he was.”

“I heard it was a brain aneurysm.”

“That’s right. One minute, he was here, and the next, he was gone.” Taylor cleared her throat and gestured to the container. “What’s in there?”

Polly glanced down as if she needed to be reminded. A sparkle lit her brown eyes. “Brownies.”

“With peanut butter fudge icing?”

“They used to be your favorite.” A hopeful look crossed Polly’s face. “Please tell me that hasn’t changed.”

Taylor’s heart became a sweet mass at the thoughtful gesture. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Duh, we’re besties.” Polly shot her a wink. “Of course I remember.”

Of course , Taylor thought. Polly had always been a thoughtful friend, someone Taylor could count on in good times and bad.

For the next hour, they sat on the porch, drinking coffee, eating Polly’s amazing brownies and reminiscing about the past. When Taylor grew teary, Polly took action.

“I know what you need.” Polly stood and lifted Taylor’s cup from her hand. Collecting the other dishes, Polly disappeared into the house.

Taylor was about to follow her when Polly reemerged, carrying Taylor’s shoes and bag and locking the door behind her.

“It’s time to get out of the house.” She placed Taylor’s shoes at her feet. “Shoes on and follow me.”

“Follow you where?”

Polly’s phone dinged. She cast a quick glance at the message, then dropped the phone into her bag.

“If you have plans, I?— ”

“Not unless an emergency crops up with one of the kids.” Polly smiled. “You’re number one on my agenda for today. I’m the room mom for Lulu’s class, and that text reminded me of that fact. I have loads of time before I need to be there to set up.”

Polly made a get-up motion with one hand.

Taylor pushed to her feet, experiencing a surge of anticipation. “Where are you taking me?”

“Do you trust me?”

“You always did like answering a question with another.”

“And you were always nosy.” Polly’s wink took any sting from the words. She turned and clicked the key fob to unlock the minivan. “Follow me, chickadee.”

Taylor arched a brow. “Chickadee?”

“My twins’ new favorite word.” Polly’s lips twitched. "Next to one that shall not be mentioned.”

“You can’t leave me hanging.”

“Buttface. They learned that from their big brothers.” Polly rolled her eyes. “They know better than to say that word within my hearing.”

“Last time I saw the girls, the twins were infants, and Lulu was barely talking.” The two oldest—both boys—had undoubtedly also changed a lot in the past five years. “It’s hard to believe they’re all in school now.”

“The years go by so quickly.” Polly sounded more wistful than relieved. “I was telling Zach the other night that they’ll be out of the house before we know it.”

“You’ve got a while,” Taylor said with a reassuring smile. She didn’t know what else to say. As her life and Polly’s had followed completely different paths, it was difficult for Taylor to imagine what Polly’s world was like.

Not only did her friend have to wrangle five kids in grade school, but she also did the books for her husband’s automotive repair business.

The thought of such a lifestyle exhausted Taylor. Yet, Polly had still found the time—and the energy—to bake brownies for an old friend.

Taylor quickly discovered shopping was what Polly had in mind. Going from store to store had been a favorite pastime when they were young. Thirty minutes later, after checking out several boutiques, Taylor found herself following Polly into Nifty Thrifty.

This thrift store was a cut above the ones she and Polly had visited in their youth. The hardwood floor beneath their feet shone as if it had been freshly polished, and the layout appeared designed to maximize browsing ease.

Sunshine streamed in through large windows adorned with whimsical curtains. The soft overhead lighting complemented the natural light, illuminating the aisles and displays without being harsh.

Taylor appreciated the faint but enticing aroma of spices filling the air and the soft instrumental background music. Both had her relaxing as she walked the wide aisles with Polly at her side.

They paused as a display of artfully arranged purses in shades of red, gold and olive green caught their eye. The banner atop the display, declaring “Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice: Fall Handbags Galore,” made Taylor smile.

Though she and Polly had enjoyed thrifting and exploring such shops when they’d been in high school, Taylor hadn’t been in once since. She wouldn’t be in one now if not for the shirt Polly had seen in the store window’s Fall Fashion Frenzy display.

She’d grabbed Taylor’s arm and dragged her inside, insisting she wanted her opinion on a shirt for her husband. The multicolored Madras plaid—in rich fall shades—had gotten Taylor’s thumbs-up.

“Is there anything else you want to look at?” Taylor asked, ready to head out the door and back into the sunshine.

“Since we’re here, I’d like to see if they’ve gotten in any new cookbooks.” Polly gestured toward the back of the store. “I’ll be quick.”

“Are you searching for a special one?”

“I collect vintage cookbooks sponsored by churches and various civic organizations.” Polly's lips curved. “I love the ones that include a story from the person who submitted the recipe. Each time I make one of the dishes, I read the corresponding story to the family.”

“That’s cool.” Taylor couldn’t recall ever seeing such a cookbook, but she found herself intrigued. “Do you want me to help you look?”

“Thanks, but I know exactly what I’m looking for. While I’m doing my thing, you can check out the rest of the store.” Polly gestured wide with one arm. “There’s so much you haven’t seen yet.”

Going along with Polly’s dictate, Taylor continued to browse. She let her fingers lightly brush against cotton, flannel and wool fabrics on circle racks, occasionally pausing to look more closely at an item before continuing.

She was beginning to wonder how much longer Polly would be when she abruptly stopped at the sight of a coat on an end display of fall jackets.

With her gaze firmly fixed on the coat, she blinked once, then again, expecting the coat to vanish. When it didn’t, she stepped forward.

Her fingers shook as she slipped the tweed coat from its hanger. Without thinking, she brought the houndstooth fabric to her nose and inhaled. Was it only her imagination, or did the faintest hint of her father’s cherry pipe tobacco linger on the sleeve?

A coat like this had been her father’s favorite, one he’d worn for years. If she hadn’t known better, she would swear this was his. But it couldn’t be. Bob Higgs would have never, ever donated his jacket. He? —

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” The brightness in Polly’s voice had Taylor smiling as she turned to her friend.

“I hit paydirt.” Polly lifted a bag emblazoned with the Nifty Thrifty name. “This cookbook has longer stories, which I love.”

“That’s great.”

“I passed the register on my way to find you. Since no one was in line, I stopped and paid.”

“Good. That’s good.” Taylor spoke absently, her gaze on the coat in her hands.

Something in Taylor’s voice had Polly shifting the sack to her left hand before reaching out with her right to touch the jacket. She rubbed the fabric between her fingers. “This feels nice, but it looks too big for you.”

Keeping a firm grip on the tweed, Taylor jiggled the jacket. “Take a closer look.”

Polly studied the coat. A second later, she grinned. “It’s like the one your dad used to wear.”

Taylor smiled. “Once fall hit, you rarely saw him in anything else.”

When Taylor brought the jacket back toward herself, she heard something crackle in one of the pockets. Reaching inside, she pulled out a note written on a torn-off piece of notebook paper.

I love you. Don’t sell.

Polly leaned over Taylor’s shoulder to read the message, then eased back. “What a strange note.”

Taylor’s heart began to race. “It looks like my father’s handwriting.”

Interest sparked in Polly’s dark depths. “You think?”

“See how the letters have a slight backward slant?” Taylor didn’t wait for Polly’s reply. “He always printed, rather than using cursive, just like this note.”

“Lots of people print.” Polly’s matter-of-fact tone and careless shrug told Taylor that Polly wasn’t convinced this coat and note were anything special. “What do you think the message means?”

“I don’t know, but if this coat is his, it shouldn’t be here.”

“What makes you think it’s his? Have you been through your dad’s closet? Did you notice his coat missing?”

“I haven’t had time to go through any of the closets yet.”

For a second, Taylor wondered if someone close to her father had begun clearing out his house—not for any nefarious purpose, but to help out.

She discarded the thought almost immediately. No, she didn’t believe anyone would do that any more than she believed her father would donate his beloved jacket.

“Think about it.” Her friend’s tone remained light. “If it’s his, why is it here?”

“You’re right. It doesn’t make sense that his coat would be here. I’m going to see what I can find out.” Taylor strode to the register, the jacket draped over her arm.

She waited, shifting from one foot to the other while the clerk rang up another customer.

Once that woman stepped away, the clerk smiled at Polly before turning her attention to Taylor. “Did you find something you like, too?”

“I have a question for you. This looks very much like my father’s coat.” Taylor pulled out the note. “I found this in the pocket.”

The woman, who looked to be in her midforties, took the note and read it. Then she looked up.

“That’s not my handwriting,” the clerk told Taylor. “I can assure you that the coat is definitely for sale.”

Seeing she was getting nowhere, Taylor changed tacks. “Can you tell me where you got this coat?”

“One of our regular customers brought it in. Eileen’s husband is ill. She’s been cleaning out closets, bringing in items she doesn’t think he’ll wear again. She said this coat was a favorite of his.”

Taylor offered an encouraging smile, hoping for more.

“I felt it was difficult for her to let it go, but he doesn’t get out much.”

“It looks exactly like my father’s,” Taylor said. “The handwriting on the note I found in the pocket looks much like his.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” The clerk lifted her hands and let them drop. “The store manager and I were both here when Eileen brought in the coat and a bunch of her husband’s shirts and pants.”

“I see.” Taylor nodded. She didn’t really see, but there was no point in arguing. “I’ll take it.”

She laid the coat on the counter. She hadn’t looked at the price, but it didn’t matter.

This coat was going home with her.