Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
The conversation veered back to the jacket on the drive back to her dad’s house.
“It’s not really a one-of-a-kind coat,” Polly mused, her brows pulled together in thought. “Maybe this Eileen person’s husband had the same one?”
“It’s possible.” Still, Taylor tightened her hold on the sack in her lap.
Polly glanced at her. “I bet you'll find your dad’s once you go through his closets.”
“As soon as we get back to the house, that’s the first thing I’m going to check out.” Taylor expelled a breath. “It’s just that the handwriting in the note reminds me so much of his.”
“It’s a mystery, that’s for sure.”
As soon as Polly pulled into the driveway, Taylor hopped out, eager to search the closets. She remembered her manners just in time.
“Do you have time to come in for a few minutes?”
“Does a Dalmatian have spots?”
Thrown off-balance, Taylor looked at her friend and blinked .
“Sorry. A little Lulu second-grade humor.” Polly laughed. “Yes, I have time. I’m as eager as you to solve this mystery.”
Once inside, Taylor stepped immediately to the entryway closet. “This is where he usually kept the tweed coat.”
As her dad wasn’t a fashion-forward guy, there weren’t many items in the closet. It took Taylor only a second to determine the houndstooth tweed wasn’t there.
She turned back to Polly, unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed. “Not here.”
“It’s around here someplace.” Polly spoke with a confidence Taylor envied. “Let’s check the other closets. I’m betting we’ll find it in one of them.”
“But what if the one I bought is his? I don’t understand how it ended up at the thrift store. That doesn’t make sense.”
Polly gnawed her lip and exhaled. “Okay. You haven’t seen your dad in a while, right?”
Taylor gave a slow nod.
“Well, then, that could explain it.” Polly gestured to the jacket Taylor hadn’t set down since arriving home. “Maybe he just got rid of the coat. He could have found a new one he liked, or knowing your dad, he might have found someone else who needed it more.”
As generous as her dad had been, Taylor didn’t believe he’d give away his coat, but she also knew she didn’t want to argue the point.
“Maybe,” she agreed tentatively.
After checking out three more closets, Taylor turned to Polly. “It isn’t here.”
“We should check the garage and your dad’s car,” Polly suggested. “Zach is always leaving his jackets in the truck.”
Polly answered the question she must have seen in Taylor’s eyes before Taylor could voice it.
“He gets hot.” Her lips lifted in an indulgent smile. “Then he forgets to bring it in and spends the next day searching the house for it before one of the kids reminds him to check the truck.”
Polly’s husband had owned a truck even back in high school. His skill with tools of any kind had translated into a successful career as an auto mechanic.
“I didn’t think of that, but I can see my dad being on a stakeout and getting hot, especially at this time of year.” After spending most of her life in GraceTown, Taylor knew the weather in October could be a mixed bag. Temperatures varied from the low forties all the way up to eighty.
They checked the garage and her father’s silver Chevy sedan. Other than a hoodie that had seen better days, they came up empty.
Returning to the house, Taylor’s gaze slid to the jacket she’d hung on the coat tree just inside the front door. “I just wish I knew for sure if this jacket is his. And if it is, how did it end up at Nifty?”
Polly studied her for a long moment, then shrugged. “Sometimes there are no answers.”
“Maybe. But my father loved to solve puzzles. That’s what made him such a good police detective and, later, a successful PI.” Taylor couldn’t keep her gaze from the coat. “I must have gotten some of his inquisitive genes, because I need to find the answer. Don’t even try to tell me Polly Peeper isn’t curious.”
Polly burst out laughing. “I’d forgotten you used to call me that.”
“Anyone who peeks into the boys’ locker room after football practice on a dare deserves her own moniker.” Taylor smiled. She had so many good memories from those years.
“Zach was the only boy I wanted to see naked back then.” Polly’s lips quirked upward. “Now I get to see him naked all of the time.”
Taylor laughed.
Squawk .
The high-pitched screech, something you might hear coming from a parrot, had Taylor jumping. “What is that awful noise?”
“It’s what happens when you let your kids pick your reminder alert.” Polly waved a dismissive hand. “It’s time for me to head to the school.”
“Well, it certainly got my attention.” Taylor met Polly’s gaze. “Today was fun.”
“It was.” Polly’s eyes sparkled. “Promise you’ll keep me updated on the case of the mysterious coat?”
“Absolutely.” Taylor walked Polly to the edge of the porch. “Thanks again for the brownies.”
She waved good-bye as Polly popped the minivan into reverse, backed out of the driveway and disappeared around the corner.
Perhaps it wasn’t her dad’s coat. Or maybe he had indeed given it away. It was possible, but knowing how attached he got to things, it wasn’t probable.
Even if she could believe the coat wasn’t his, it still didn’t explain the note.
Wishful thinking, Taylor told herself. She wanted to believe the note came from her dad and was trying to convince herself it was so.
Bob Higgs might have promised to always be there for her, but a ruptured brain aneurysm had been beyond his control.
From now on, living without her dad’s support and guidance was something she would have to accept.
After seeing Polly off, Taylor paused on the sidewalk outside Elite Sleuth Solutions. Seeing her father’s name etched in the glass had her heart lurching. Her father had founded the private investigation business seven years earlier, after he’d retired from the GraceTown police force .
While he’d enjoyed being a detective for GraceTown PD, he’d loved having the ability to set his own hours and take cases that mattered to him.
Only fifty when he’d retired, her dad had looked forward to many more years doing what he loved. That hadn’t been in the cards.
A cool breeze had leaves dancing across the toes of Taylor’s boots. She didn’t even have to breathe deeply to catch the scent of fall in the air. Autumn was her favorite season in GraceTown. How many years had it been since she’d had a chance to enjoy it with her father?
Too many. Now, that opportunity was forever out of reach.
Heaving a breath filled with regret, Taylor stepped into Elite. It was wild to think that her dad had been in this office for over two years, yet this was her first time seeing it.
Taylor’s last trip to GraceTown had taken place before her dad had gotten a PI partner and moved to this office space. The heavy workload at the law firm in Chicago where she’d practiced had made getting away difficult.
Her father had understood the demands on her and had flown to Chicago for the past three years to celebrate the holidays with her. This year, she had promised him that she would find a way to come to him for the holidays.
But she had to admit that if she’d been kept on after the acquisition, that would have been an impossible-to-keep promise. The realization was a knife blow to the heart. Taylor absorbed the impact with a sharp inhale and focused on why she was here.
Why am I here ?
Taylor frowned. Though her dad had been eager to show her his office and introduce her to his partner, what did that matter now?
The attorney handling the estate still had to explain her dad’s wishes for the business. Taylor’s meeting with Melvin Blount this week had been canceled after the attorney was called out of town for a family emergency.
The cancellation had brought relief rather than disappointment. Though she needed to know the terms of the will, the reading was one more hurdle in a long list of hurdles.
When she felt overwhelmed, Taylor told herself that the key to getting through these dark days was simply putting one foot in front of the other and doing what needed to be done.
Taylor stepped into the quiet of the small office. The sight of the spartan interior didn’t surprise her. Bob Higgs always had been a less-is-more kind of guy.
Straight ahead were two offices—one for her dad and one for Jameson Fox. Her father’s partner was a stranger to her. She’d also never met Glenna Kovacs, the office manager hired when the business had moved to this location.
After several long seconds in which no one appeared, Taylor called out, “Hello? Is anyone here?”
She waited another minute before stepping into her father’s office. The clutter on the desktop brought a smile to her lips. For all his minimalist tendencies, her dad had believed that a disorganized desk was a happy desk.
Yet, no matter how cluttered his desktop was in his home office, she’d learned that he could nip out of the mess the exact paper he was looking for at any time.
It startled Taylor to see the pencil holder she’d made from Popsicle sticks at Brownie camp when she was eight. She’d painted each stick a different fluorescent color, then secured them around the perimeter of a soup can with Elmer’s glue. She’d personalized the holder by adding lots of hearts and stickers that proclaimed “Best Dad Ever” and “I L-O-V-E My Dad.”
Though he made a big deal at the time about how much he loved the gift, she hadn’t realized he still had it—or the picture her mother had taken of the two of them on a long-ago Halloween night .
Pushing aside papers, Taylor picked up the pencil holder from its nest of papers. She would keep this and the photo. Looking at them would forever remind her of the wonderful father who?—
“This is a private office.”
The unexpected male voice behind her had her jolting. Her sudden spin sent pencils flying from the cup. The container slipped from her hand, clattering against the hardwood floor and breaking apart.
Taylor’s heart twisted at the sight of the neon-colored sticks scattered at her feet.
“Tell us who you are and what you’re doing going through Bob’s things.” The midfifties woman stood with her hands on her ample hips. Her oversized glasses gave her face an owl-like appearance. Curly brown hair sprang out from her head as if she’d just stuck her finger in a light socket.
The man, tall and broad-shouldered with dark hair cut stylishly short, stood just behind her, blocking the doorway. “Tell us what you’re doing here.”
Normally slow to anger, Taylor felt her temper spike. Could they be any more unwelcoming? She tried to tell herself they didn’t know her, and of course they would have questions.
But the sight of the pencil container and the framed photo had brought memories surging and, with it, anger over the unfairness of it all.
Her dad had been young, not even sixty, with so much to give, not only to the world, but to her. She’d been cast adrift without her compass. Taylor lifted her chin. “I could ask you the same.”
“We work here,” the man said in a flat tone. “Your turn.”
“You’re Jameson Fox.” Taylor couldn’t hide her surprise. She’d thought he’d be older, more her father’s age. Hadn’t her dad said his partner had also retired from the police force? Or perhaps that was what she’d assumed.
Taylor shifted her gaze to the woman. “You must be Glenna.”
“You know our names.” Jameson’s piercing dark eyes never left her face. His voice, while calm and polite, held an undercurrent of steel. “Time to tell us yours.”
“Taylor Higgs.” She stuck out her hand. “Bob’s daughter.”
Glenna ignored the hand. “You’re finally here. It would have been nice if you’d come while Bob was still alive.”
The censure in Glenna’s tone had Taylor’s back stiffening as she dropped her hand to her side. Who was this woman to judge?
Without waiting for Taylor to respond, Glenna steamrolled ahead. “It’s a two-hour plane ride from O’Hare to BWI and a short drive from Baltimore to here.”
At Taylor’s incredulous look, Glenna added, “I looked it up last year when you—once again, I might add—expected Bob to drop everything to come to you for the holidays.”
“Glenna.” Jameson’s tone held a warning. “That was between her and Bob.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Glenna spoke grudgingly. “But you and I both hated seeing Bob work like a dog the month before he left simply so he could accommodate being away.”
Giving a noncommittal shrug, Jameson scooped the debris up from the floor and set the remnants of the pencil cup on the corner of her father’s desk.
Drop everything? Work like a dog? Taylor pondered the comments. Her dad had made it sound like business was slow around the holidays and that it was the perfect time for him to get away.
Which was what Taylor wanted to do right now—get away from this office, from the guilt that rose up and gripped her throat in a suffocating hold. But first, she needed something only they could provide.
And that, she realized, was why she’d come here today. Taylor cleared her throat. “I don’t have many details about what happened that day.”
No need to say which day. They all knew.
“Your dad had been complaining of a headache for about a week.” Jameson’s lips tightened momentarily before he continued. “We urged him to see a doctor. He said he would when things slowed down.”
“When he left on surveillance, he was fine. No complaints about the headache that morning, remember?” Glenna shot a glance at Jameson before returning her attention to Taylor.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, Jameson rocked back on his heels. “It seemed he was feeling better.”
“It was nearly noon when I noticed him sitting in his car out front. I assumed he was finishing up a call.” Glenna blinked rapidly. “Around twelve fifteen, I went out to see if he needed anything. Th-that’s when I-I found him.” Glenna turned to Jameson, her face awash with misery. “I still think that if I’d gone out sooner, maybe?—”
“He was already gone.” Jameson’s arm stole around her shoulders.
“But if?—”
“We talked about this before,” Jameson reminded Glenna. “The doctor said he didn’t have a chance, no matter when he was found.”
“That’s what I was told.” Taylor heard herself say.
Taylor had begun to believe that bad things really did come in threes. Only a few days before she’d gotten the call about her dad, she’d been let go by the firm where she’d worked since graduating from law school. The firm had been acquired, and she had been deemed a redundant employee.
Then her boyfriend, who had kept his job at the firm, broke up with her, citing that it wouldn’t look good for him to be dating someone who had been terminated.
Losing her job and boyfriend at the same time, though, paled in comparison to losing her father. Bob Higgs was her daddy, her rock, the one person she’d thought would always be there.
From the time Taylor had been small, her dad had promised he’d always be in her back pocket, close by whenever she needed him.
It had been a promise he couldn’t keep.
“I assume you’re here to plan the funeral.” Glenna’s tone turned brisk and businesslike. “I’ve made a list of possible music selections and service details, things I thought Bob would like and?—”
Taylor lifted a hand. “Thank you for that, but my father didn’t want any fuss.”
Glenna blinked, clearly startled. “Pardon me?”
“Earlier this summer, when my dad called to inform me of a neighbor’s death, he made it clear that when his time came, he wanted to be cremated and his ashes tossed to the wind.” Taylor ran a tongue across suddenly dry lips. How strange they’d recently had this discussion. Had her father had a premonition? “Per his wishes, there will be no funeral or memorial service."
“What?” Glenna’s voice rose, then broke. “Are you saying… That doesn’t seem?—”
Jameson’s hand on Glenna’s arm had her stopping midsentence. “Taylor is Bob’s next of kin,” he said. “It’s her decision, not ours.”
When she wanted to cave, Taylor reminded herself that this was what her father had wanted.
“I understand,” Jameson said smoothly. “You should know that several of Bob’s friends are planning to gather at the Thirsty Pug this Saturday night to remember your dad.”
Taylor thought of her father’s wishes but told herself this event was out of her control. Deep in her heart, she was touched that his friends wanted to honor him. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome.” Jameson’s voice softened. “Just remember, we’re here to help. Whatever you need.”
“I assume that the Thirsty Pug is a bar?” Taylor asked.
“It's a popular one on the River Walk.” Jameson’s gaze remained watchful, as if he was attempting to gauge her response. “Bob’s friends rented out the back room. Everyone is welcome. You should stop by.”
Taylor offered a noncommittal smile. “I might do that.”
“We didn’t think you were coming,” Glenna blurted. “It’s been nearly two weeks since Bob passed. When we didn’t hear a peep from you, we assumed you planned to handle everything remotely.”
Taylor opened her mouth to remind them that this was her father they were talking about. Of course she’d come home. Then she remembered she hadn’t met either of them before, and they’d worked with her dad for over two years.
As far as not immediately flying to GraceTown when she’d learned her father had passed, she assured herself she’d done the smart thing, the sensible thing, by staying in Chicago to get everything squared away there before coming to GraceTown.
It wasn’t as if her dad had been in the hospital and needed her. The cremation could go forward without her. Looking back, she wished now that she had flown back, even for a day, to gaze upon his face, place her hand on his and whisper good-bye.
Hindsight, she thought, feeling that knife twist once again. So many things she’d have done differently. Now, she could only move forward.
“The estate needs to be settled,” Taylor began. “I had a meeting with the attorney tomorrow, but he had to go out of town.”
“Ah, yes, the estate.” The censure Taylor had seen earlier in Glenna’s eyes grew more pronounced. “It figures you’d come back for the spoils.”
“Glenna.” Jameson spoke sharply. “You’re out of line.”
“Sorry.”
Despite the apology, the woman didn’t appear at all sorry.
Desperately wishing she’d steered clear of the office, Taylor picked up one of the pencils Jameson had placed on the desk. After scribbling her phone number on a small pad, she tore off the sheet and handed it to Jameson.
He didn’t even glance down. “What’s this?”
“My cell number.” Taylor scooped up the pencil cup remnants and photograph and turned toward the door. “In case you need to reach me.”
Jameson said nothing. There was no opportunity. She was out the door so quickly that even a polite goodbye was impossible.
“I shouldn’t have been surprised,” Glenna said on an exhale. “Just like my brother. Those kinds of people find time to come around when the scent of money is in the air.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little hard on her?”
“Am I?” Glenna strode to the front window and peered out. A second later, she glanced at Jameson. “She’s driving his car.”
“She’s also staying at his house.”
Glenna whirled to face him fully. “How do you know?”
“I received a call last night from one of Bob’s neighbors. I’d asked him to watch the house.”
At Glenna’s puzzled look, he added, “Thieves often target the homes of those who’ve recently died. The neighbor saw someone in the house. After I finished the assignment, I went over and parked on the street. Bob’s place was ablaze with lights.” Jameson’s lips quirked upward. “When I watched a woman take out the trash, I figured she had to be Bob’s daughter. Though I couldn’t see her features from where I sat, most thieves don’t take out the trash.”
“Sounds like she didn’t waste any time taking over his car and house.”
“Her house—and car—now. I assume, anyway.”
“She walked into the office today like she owns the place. Do you think…?”
“I don’t know.” Jameson blew out a breath. “Bob told me once that if anything happened to him, I’d get his share of the business. But we both know that when it comes down to it, family usually wins out.”