Floodin' Out, page 2
And he had been Grady’s boss for years. Grady practically ran the hardware store, since Mr. Brant didn’t do much more than work the register, but she had to wonder what would happen to the place without him.
Flora pulled into her driveway and shut the truck’s engine off. Violet wiped her eyes again, then in a tearful voice said, “I’m so sorry. I forgot the drinks in my car. I think they spilled when I hit him.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Flora said. “I’ll make us some coffee, if you want. Come on, let’s go in.”
Amaretto greeted them at the door. She had to shoo the cat away so she didn’t dart out, and then shut the door quickly behind them. She led Violet over to the couch and made sure the woman was comfortable, then sat down in the armchair kiddy-corner from her.
“What do you need? Can I get you anything to eat or drink? Do you want me to call anyone else for you?”
“Just water,” Violet said. “And no, I’ll tell Sydney about it later, but right now I just want some time to think.”
Flora nodded her understanding and with a single pat on her friend’s shoulder, she got up and went into the kitchen. Fetching a glass from the cupboard, she walked over to the sink and turned it on, but nothing happened. With a groan, she remembered that she had shut the water off.
She didn’t have any water bottles — she used a reusable one when she was working in the yard. There was some lemonade in the fridge, along with some juice, milk, and a couple of cans of the hard cider she liked, but Violet had asked for water. She hesitated, then put the glass down and hurried to the basement.
After turning the water back on, she rushed upstairs, filled the glass, then ran as fast as she could back down into the basement to turn it off again. She knew she had made more of a mess in the bathroom, but she wasn’t about to tell Violet what she had done and make her feel worse.
If her friend wanted a glass of water right now, she would get one. It might be a small thing, but it was all Flora could do.
CHAPTER THREE
Once Violet had her water, Flora returned to the kitchen to try calling the hardware store, but no one answered. Since it was the store phone, she didn’t leave a voice message. Instead, she stood by the kitchen window and fretted. Grady had known Mr. Brant for years. She didn’t know how close they were, but she was sure he was going to take this news hard. And not just because someone he knew was dead – he very well could lose his job because of this.
She decided to try calling again in half an hour. When she returned to the living room, Violet had shifted on the couch so she could look over the back of it, and was gazing out the window. Flora followed her gaze and saw that a little sparrow was hopping around on the damp towels she had put out earlier. She made a face. She was going to have to wash those too, but she let it be for now. Amaretto was gazing out the window with an even more rapt expression than Violet’s, and Flora spared a moment to be glad for the bird that she didn’t allow her cat outside. Amaretto might be a spoiled fluffy Persian with a slightly squished face, but she had all of the same hunting instincts any cat did.
“This doesn’t feel real,” Violet said quietly as Flora sat back down in the armchair. “How could something like this happen? Who would kill him? He was just an old man.”
“I don’t know,” Flora said. “You didn’t recognize the truck?”
Her friend shook her head. “I didn’t get the license plate number either. I’d probably recognize it if I saw it again, though. I hope they find whoever was driving it. They were moving his body like it was a bag of gravel.”
Flora didn’t know what to say to that. She felt very out of her depth. The leaking pipe in the bathroom seemed like such a small thing now, and it seemed absurd how upset she was about it that morning.
“Someone’s coming,” Violet said.
Flora looked out the window again. Sure enough, a pickup truck was pulling up in front of her house. It slowed to turn op her driveway, and she recognized it immediately as Grady’s. It was brown and old and a little rusty, and she worried that the sight of it might remind her friend of the red pickup truck she’d seen and upset her more, but Violet just sniffed and said, “I didn’t know you’d managed to get in touch with him.”
“I didn’t,” Flora said as she stood up. “The police must have contacted him. I’m going to go talk to him. Will you be all right in here?”
“Yeah. But if he wants to come in, that’s fine. He knew Mr. Brant a lot better than either of us did.”
She slipped the easy to put on boots she kept by the front door onto her feet and stepped onto the porch just as Grady was getting out of his truck.
“Sorry I didn’t call,” he said as he approached her. He looked a little dazed. “I got a call from the police at the hardware store. Mr. Brant passed away.”
“I know,” she said, hurrying forward to pull him into a hug. “I called the hardware store a few minutes ago to tell you.”
He squeezed her back, then pulled away, looking at her in confusion. “How did you learn about it so quickly?”
She grimaced. “It’s a complicated story. Do you want to come in? Violet is here. I’m not sure if she’ll want to talk about it, but we can step into the kitchen so I can explain.”
He nodded, still looking puzzled, and followed her into the house. For once, Amaretto didn’t greet her at the door. A glance into the living room showed her that the cat was sprawled across Violet’s lap. Flora and Grady took their shoes off, then entered the living room. Violet gave Grady a melancholy nod in greeting.
“Violet, do you mind if I tell Grady what happened? We’ll go into the kitchen, so we won’t disturb you and Amaretto.”
“Yeah, he deserves to know,” Violet said. “You can tell him. I just don’t want to talk about it anymore right now.”
“I understand,” Flora assured her.
Grady followed her into the kitchen. She reached for the cupboard to get herself a glass of water, then remembered that the water was off, so she took the lemonade out of the fridge instead. She shot a questioning glance to Grady, who nodded, so she poured him a glass as well, then sat at the kitchen table with him. Then, taking a deep breath, she told him the story Violet had told her. It was still confusing, and she had a lot of questions about what had happened, but at least she could give him some answers.
When she was done, his brows were drawn together and he was slowly turning his glass of lemonade around in his hands.
“So what you’re saying is, someone killed him before Violet hit him with her car?”
“That’s what both Violet and Officer Hendricks said,” she told him, keeping her voice quiet so Violet wouldn’t be able to overhear them. “I know how strange it sounds, but it’s what happened. Violet said the paramedics told her Mr. Brant had already been deceased for a while before the car accident, and since this happened so early in the morning, I’m guessing that means he died sometime last night.
“And they don’t have any idea who did it?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think they have any leads other than that old, rusty, red pickup truck Violet saw. Do you recognize the description?”
He snorted. “That’s half the trucks in Warbler.”
She gave a small smile. “True.” The expression faded quickly. “I’m sorry, Grady. You’ve known him for years. This has to be a shock.”
“I was so sure I was mishearing the police at first, when they called. They asked me a few questions over the phone, like when I last saw him and if he had mentioned that he had any plans the night before. When I got done talking with them, I decided to close the store for the day and come over here to let you know. Maybe I should have called ahead first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “You’re always welcome here. Do you know what’s going to happen to the store now?”
He shook his head. “I’m guessing his daughter might get it. I don’t think he has any other family to leave it to. I’ll wait until next week and then I’ll try to talk to her about it, see if she wants me to keep it running or what. I’d like to wait more than a few days, but if I’m going to need to get a new job, I need to know sooner rather than later.”
“I feel terrible for her,” she said. She had met Mr. Brant’s daughter a few times, and while she didn’t like the other woman – Flora had started off suspecting her of murder and that sort of thing didn’t really go away – someone getting a call that their parent had passed away was always going to be a gut-wrenching experience. “Did he have any enemies? I mean, I’m sure you probably told the police already, I just can’t wrap my mind around who would want to kill him.”
“I’m not very comfortable with speaking ill of the dead, but Mr. Brant wasn’t easy to get along with all the time. I know he rented the upper story of his house to someone he frequently got into arguments with, and just yesterday, he banned one of our regulars from the store for having an unpaid tab. The two of them spent a good half an hour arguing back and forth.”
“That happened yesterday? Who was it?”
“Ned Hansen. He runs a business painting house interiors for people. I already told the police about it, so I guess they’ll be looking into him. I think his tenant’s name was Levi, but I never met him. Only saw him watching me through a window once while I was mowing the lawn for Mr. Brant.”
“Did he have a busy social life?” Flora asked. “Where would he have gone after you closed yesterday?”
Grady frowned, thinking. “He almost always stopped by that little diner on the way out of town before going home. He’d usually eat dinner there. I don’t think he would’ve gone anywhere else.”
Flora sipped her lemonade, thinking. Whoever killed Mr. Brant had to have run into him between when the hardware store closed yesterday and when he got home. That didn’t help much – it was a small town and Mr. Brant was a lifelong resident, so a lot of people probably knew his schedule. If only they knew more about that red truck. Whoever was driving it was involved in Mr. Brant’s death, even if they didn’t kill him with their own two hands.
The only two people who might be able to answer more of her questions deserved some time to process what had happened, though. She had her own emotions to figure out. She hadn’t known him well, but he hadn’t been a stranger to her either. It didn’t seem real yet that she would never again walk into the hardware store to hear him mumble a greeting at her. Even if Grady was able to keep working at the hardware store, it would never be the same.
CHAPTER FOUR
The three of them spent a mournful afternoon at Flora’s house until Violet announced she was ready to go home. Grady decided to head back to his trailer as well, and get a head start on finding a potential new job in case the hardware store closed down for good. Despite her objections, he promised to come over the next day to help her with the pipe in the bathroom. He wanted to keep busy, and said he would probably rather spend the day with her than spend it alone doing nothing. She didn’t object too much, since she did need running water in her house.
She was reluctant to leave Violet alone in her apartment, but her friend promised she would be fine, and pointed out that even though she didn’t have a car, she could walk to the grocery store if she needed anything, and could always call Flora if she ended up needing a ride somewhere.
The next morning, Flora drank juice when she woke up instead of coffee, since she didn’t want to risk turning the water on to fill the coffee pot, and wondered if Violet would let her take a shower at the apartment if she and Grady didn’t manage to get the leaky pipe fixed today. She didn’t know much about plumbing, and had no idea how big of a job it was going to be.
He picked her up around ten, two coffees from Violet Delights in his truck’s cupholders.
“Is Violet back at work?” she asked as she slid into the passenger seat and he backed the truck out of the driveway.
“No, her employees are running the place,” he said. “It was weird stopping in and not seeing her there.”
“I bet. I could probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve gone there when she wasn’t working. Thanks for the coffee, by the way. I needed the caffeine.”
They rode mostly in silence as Grady drove them to the next town over. He had left the supplies he was going to bring to her house at the hardware store in his hurry to leave yesterday, he didn’t seem comfortable with the idea of opening the store even just temporarily to pick up the supplies.
He knew exactly what they needed to get, and it didn’t take long to gather up a length of copper pipe, two new joints, one for the corroded joint and the other to join the new pipe to the old one, and a tool to cut the pipes. He seemed optimistic that the job would only take a few minutes, and she tried not to show how skeptical she was. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. It was just that, in her experience, if something could go wrong, it would.
She checked in with a quick text message to Violet as they drove back to Warbler. Her friend responded, saying she was doing all right and she planned to be back at work the next day. When Flora asked if she needed anything, and offered to stop at a store for her since she and Grady were already out, Violet turned her down, claiming she just wanted to be alone right now. Flora didn’t push her, but she was worried. Even though what happened to Mr. Brant wasn’t her friend’s fault, she knew Violet was taking it personally.
“I hope the police catch whoever killed him soon,” she said. “Have you gotten any updates from the police?”
“No. I was thinking, though, maybe we should stop by his house and let his tenant know what happened. I don’t know if the lease was official, and the police might not have known to tell him. I doubt his daughter is in any condition to remember, either.”
“I don’t mind stopping,” she said.
Grady nodded and when they got to town, he turned the opposite direction they would normally take to her house. Mr. Brant lived in a two-story house not far from the center of town. It was an older house, but seemed well-maintained. She realized, a little belatedly, that she had never seen whatever car Mr. Brant drove parked at the hardware store. There was an antique four-door car sitting in the driveway, but it didn’t look like it was driven often. He must have walked to work. A second car, a newer model but a lot more beat up, was sitting next to it.
“It looks like he’s home,” Grady said. “Do you want to wait in here?”
She shook her head. “No, I’ll go up,” she said. “I know it’s not our responsibility to figure out what happened, but you did say he argued with his tenant a lot. I’d like to get a feel for the guy myself, if you don’t mind.”
They made their way up to the front door together. Grady raised his fist to knock, then frowned and led Flora around to the side instead. She saw a set of rickety wooden steps leading up to an entrance on the second level.
“I doubt he’d answer if someone was knocking on Mr. Brant’s door,” Grady explained as they climbed the steps. “I forgot he has his own entrance.”
They crowded into the little landing at the top of the stairway, and he knocked on the door. It took a moment, but before too long, someone pulled it open. A young man who looked to be in his late teens or early twenties blinked out at them through the screen door. He looked like he had just woken up, even though it was nearly noon.
“Yeah?”
“Hey,” Grady said. “I don’t know if you remember me. I work for Mr. Brant and helped him with the yard sometimes. My name’s Grady.”
“Yeah, I saw you working out there this summer. What’s up?”
Grady took a deep breath. “I thought I should let you know, Mr. Brant was murdered either early yesterday morning or sometime during the night.”
The young man frowned. “Murdered? What happened?”
“No one’s sure yet,” Flora chimed in. “Did you happen hear anything? A struggle, maybe? Did he have any guests over?”
“What, are you some sort of police detective? I didn’t hear anything. I work the night shift and I sleep during the day, so depending on when it happened I was probably either asleep or gone. What’s his daughter going to do with the house now that he’s gone?”
“I haven’t spoken to her yet,” Grady said. “You might want to get information about your lease together, though. I can ask if I talk to her before you do. What’s your name, again?”
“Levi Holland,” he replied. “If you do talk to her, let her know I want to keep renting this place. It’s going to take me forever to find somewhere else to live that charges me as little as he did. I’m not above forcing her to evict me if she tries to be unfair about it. Is that all you needed?”
A little taken aback at his brusque behavior, she exchanged a glance with Grady.
“Yeah,” Grady said. “That was all.”
Levi shut the door in their faces. A little irritated at the rudeness, Flora followed Grady back down the stairs. They got into his truck.
“Well, he certainly didn’t seem too bothered that his landlord was murdered,” she muttered.
“I told you they didn’t get along,” he said. “At least he knows, now. You want to go anywhere else, or just home?”
“You said he normally got dinner at the diner, right?” she asked. “Would you mind swinging by there? We could get some food to take home for lunch, and also ask around and see if he ever came in that night.”
He nodded and pulled out of the driveway, heading for their next destination.
CHAPTER FIVE
Flora had only been to the little diner on the outskirts of town once before, when she first moved to Warbler. The heavy, greasy food wasn’t to her personal tastes, though it wasn’t bad for what it was. She much preferred the sandwich shop, with its offering of fresh ingredients and constantly changing menu. She was perfectly content with getting food from the diner for lunch, though, and there was something to be said about the cozy, welcoming, small-town feel the diner enveloped her in as soon as she and Grady stepped through the doors.
