Granny Bares It All Read online

  We passed through, Adrian cursing when he saw the hole I’d cut in his fence, and I led him to the car. At gunpoint I buckled him in to the passenger’s seat, strapping the seatbelt over his arms and making him sit on his hands. I should have brought some handcuffs along.

  My car nearly got stuck as I tried to do a three-point turn to head back the way I had come. The dirt track was too narrow, hemmed in by trees on one side and mud on the other. My three-point turn became a twelve-point turn. At least Adrian didn’t crack a joke about women drivers. I might have slugged him. I didn’t like slugging people anymore. It hurt my hand.

  Turned out I had to slug him after all.

  When we made it off the track and were on the road heading for town, he let out a shriek that sounded something like “You won’t take my Angie away from me!” but came out more like “Yoooarggghangieme!!!!”, wriggled his arms out of his seatbelt, and grabbed the steering wheel.

  Remember what I said about how every layer of safety, no matter how thin, can be lifesaving? That trick with the seatbelt saved both our lives.

  The two seconds it took for him to get his arms free allowed me to grip the steering wheel tighter, pull my gun out, and smack him across the temple with it.

  Even so, he managed to grab the wheel and swerve us enough that the side of the rental car ground against the margin barrier. If he had gotten the chance, he would have probably made us go right through the thing.

  I hit him again, and he calmed down, and by calmed down I mean he cradled his head and rocked back and forth, moaning.

  “You really are quite a poor excuse for a human being, aren’t you?” I said. “Now sit quiet, or I’ll shoot you.”

  Of course, I really wouldn’t have shot him. Just pistol-whipped him a few more times.

  Amid sobs and pleas for mercy, he led me to Angie’s house. It was a cute little bungalow in the cheaper part of town, although no part of Cheerville was by any means cheap. I didn’t know why Angie was fussing about money.

  “What does Angie do for a living?”

  “She’s the manager of a motorcycle shop on the highway,” Adrian replied.

  I shrugged. Solid middle-class living. A house in a nice town. Friends. Beauty. And she wanted to run off with this guy?

  Angie must have heard us park in the driveway, right behind her sporty yellow Kawasaki, because she opened the door just as we came up her front steps.

  She saw the bruises on her boyfriend’s face, the stern look on mine, and the suspicious gun-shaped bulge in my right pocket and did the math.

  Angie slumped.

  “Come on in,” she mumbled.

  We followed her inside. She sat heavily in an armchair in the front room. Adrian went to her and put his arms around her. I remained standing by the door.

  I cut to the quick.

  “So why did you do it?” I asked. “And don’t lie. I know about the doctored tax forms, and I know about the two of you planning to elope.”

  I wanted this to be over. My hands were still sore from cutting through the fence, I was sleepy, and I had a terrible case of heartburn. I felt if I belched again, I might burn the house down.

  These two would probably deserve that.

  “She was going to tell Zoe,” Angie whispered, looking down at the floor. She resembled nothing more than a chastened schoolchild.

  Adrian clutched at her. “No, don’t tell me that! You didn’t! Tell me you didn’t!”

  Angie didn’t reply. I could see realization dawning on Adrian’s face. He pulled his hands away like he had suddenly realized he was touching a snake.

  “She was my friend,” he moaned.

  I remembered the photo of him with his arm around Clarissa and Zoe leaning away from them, and I wondered if she had been something more.

  Angie looked at him. “She had started to hate you. She told me she lost a lot of respect for you when you pressured her to change the taxes. She tried to turn me against you. I think she was jealous. When I wouldn’t listen, she threatened to call the IRS. She didn’t have the guts to threaten you to your face, so she threatened me. You would have gone to jail. Naomi would have gone to jail. It would have ruined everything. I did it to protect you.”

  Angie turned and glared at me. “If it wasn’t for you, a week from now, we could have been sunning ourselves in a nudist resort in the south of France. We had enough to live for a couple of years, and Adrian had found out a good way to dodge taxes. We could have lived on his rental income. I could have ridden in the European circuit. We could have been happy.”

  I felt sick, and not just from the junk food I had eaten for dinner. So this was it. A bright, popular woman had been run down in the street for no other crime than being honest and endangering the happiness of two selfish people. Now Clarissa was gone, and Adrian’s life was wrecked from the guilt I could see in his tortured features, and Zoe’s life would be ruined too. Naomi would get in trouble, and the entire community of Sunnydale was in mourning over the loss of its most popular member. The scandal might even cause the place to close.

  Oddly, I felt sad that Sunnydale might be no more. It wasn’t my kind of community, but it was a community, with all its friendships and jokes and fun.

  And its seamy underside.

  “One thing I don’t get. When you tried to run me off the road, you did it like an amateur. I initially ruled you out as a suspect because of that.”

  Angie shook her head. “I never meant to run you off the road, only scare you. Once you backed off, I took my chance to get away.”

  Adrian was sitting on the floor, weeping. I looked at him with pity…

  …and didn’t see the lamp being thrown at me until it was almost too late.

  I dodged, and the lamp that had been aimed at my head only struck my shoulder, causing me to drop my gun. Angie scooped up a set of keys on the side table and bolted for the door. I managed to trip her on her way out. She stumbled down the steps, picked herself up, and ran for her motorcycle.

  I grabbed my gun.

  “Stop right there!” I shouted.

  “No!” Adrian tried to tackle me. An elbow to the gut stopped that move. His gut was soft enough that I didn’t even hurt my elbow.

  By that time, Angie had leaped onto her motorcycle, fired it up, and peeled out across her front lawn. I leveled my pistol. Even though I didn’t have my glasses on and couldn’t see the sights properly, it was an easy shot.

  A shot I didn’t take. I couldn’t gun down this overgrown child. Let the police track her down.

  She revved the motorcycle and tore down the street. Just then, a car turned the corner and screeched to a stop sideways across the road, blocking it.

  Angie tried to swerve, but it was too late. She ended up skidding out and falling away from her motorcycle, tucking into a roll but no doubt getting more of that “road rash” she had suffered in another accident. She ended up several yards down the street, moaning but alive. I hurried toward her, Adrian close behind.

  The door to the car opened, and a woman stepped out.

  Liz.

  I stopped in front of her as Adrian rushed to Angie’s side.

  “You followed me again,” I said.

  “That’s right,” Liz said, giving me a cheeky grin.

  “And I didn’t spot you. That’s twice. No one has ever done that to me twice. You have skills beyond the training of an artillery observer. Just who are you?”

  “Never mind me,” she said, aping my own words to her during our previous conversation. “Did you get a confession?”

  “It was Angie, not Adrian.”

  Liz nodded. “She hero worshipped him. Many of the girls do. I’d heard rumors of their affair but thought it was just talk. Today I dug a little deeper and found out it was all true. I was going to tell you, but I guess you have this case just about wrapped up.”

  “Thank goodness,” I said, looking at Angie. She didn’t seem too badly hurt. “Now I can go back to a nice, quiet retirement.”

>   Liz laughed. “Don’t try that sweet little grandmother act with me. I don’t buy it for a second.”

  “And I don’t buy that you’re a former artillery observer and now just a peaceful, ordinary citizen.”

  Our gaze held for a moment. She was the first to break it.

  “I’ll call the cops,” she said, turning away from me and pulling out her phone.

  Fifteen

  Two days later, I was enjoying a nice cup of tea at home. My sunburn had gone away, and I could sit fully clothed in the privacy of my own home. I felt a profound sense of relief.

  I had let Grimal tie up the loose ends and take the credit, as usual. Angie’s confession to me had landed her in jail, and while she had hired an attorney, things looked pretty bad for her. Adrian had suffered a nervous breakdown and confessed to his plans to dodge taxes and run away with her. Naomi had confessed to helping him with the taxes. The thing was, since they hadn’t yet sent in that tax return, there was only conspiracy to commit tax fraud rather than tax fraud itself. I suspected both would get off in exchange for help in prosecuting Angie.

  Grimal had been grateful for my help, and while he wasn’t decent enough to thank me, he did say the police department would pay for the damage to the rental car.

  I decided not to tell him about that envelope I had seen Adrian slip Naomi. I suspected it had been a bribe. Proving it would be difficult, and I didn’t want Naomi to get into any more trouble. She had made a foolish mistake while under Adrian’s sway, and the embarrassment and publicity were punishment enough. The important thing was that we had caught Clarissa’s killer.

  The case was splashed across the local papers and even made the statewide papers thanks to the nudism angle. Many in Cheerville expressed surprise that there was a nudist colony just outside of town. I hoped there wouldn’t be a public backlash. Towns like Cheerville can be terribly conservative, at least on the outside, and it would be a pity if Sunnydale Nature Resort got run out of the area.

  My phone rang, and I picked it up.

  “Hey, Barbara, it’s Liz.”

  “Well, if it isn’t my favorite nudist mystery woman. How are things up at Sunnydale?”

  I had been avoiding the place ever since I broke the case. My naturism had come to its natural conclusion. I’m not a prude, but there are limits.

  “Everything’s crazy up here. Zoe is filing for divorce and plans to buy out Adrian’s portion of the resort. The members have set up a crowdfunding campaign to help her. He hasn’t dared show his face around here. Neither has Naomi. Needless to say, Zoe is livid with her. Things are going better than expected, though.”

  “Better than expected? Really?”

  “Oh yes. The publicity has been great. We’ve had a boom in membership applications. Some are creepy guys we have to turn away, of course, but many are good people who have read up on what nudism is all about and want to give it a try.”

  “I suppose there’s going to be a run on Sun Shield lotion.”

  Liz laughed. “I hope so. We don’t want a bunch of lobsters running around like you were.”

  I laughed too. After a pause, Liz went on.

  “We haven’t seen you up there for the past couple of days.”

  I shifted in my seat. “Yes, I’m sorry to have deceived you by infiltrating your community, but I did it with the best of intentions.”

  “You got justice for Clarissa. Everyone understands. We miss you, though. People like you up here, and you’re the heroine of the hour. How about you come on up tomorrow?”

  “That’s very kind of you, but to be honest, it’s not really my kind of place.”

  “I see. Would you like to have a coffee tomorrow instead? You’re an interesting woman, Barbara, and I’d like to learn more about you.”

  “I bet you would. I’d like to learn more about you too.”

  There was a pause on the line.

  “How about we talk about the weather and books instead?”

  “That might be better.”

  “Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  After seeing Liz’s skill set, I didn’t believe she had been a forward observer for the Army. A forward observer is positioned as close to enemy lines as possible in order to call in locations for the artillery to hit. With her level of ability, I thought she was a bit closer to enemy lines than that. I think she was actually behind enemy lines.

  Not that I’d ever get her to admit it.

  She could be a useful ally, though. This sleepy little town was turning out to be quite lively, and I could use more allies than just the bumbling likes of Police Chief Arnold Grimal.

  And I could always use another friend.

  “It’s a date. I’ll talk to you later, Liz. I think I hear my son pulling up. He’s dropping off my grandson. He’s going to stay with me for a couple of hours. Bye now.”

  “Bye.”

  I heard my grandson running up the walkway, followed quickly by a loud pounding on my door. Why do teenagers always sound like a SWAT team about to break your door in?

  “Coming!” I called.

  As soon as I opened the door, Dandelion shot between my legs and clawed her way up Martin until she was snuggled in his arms.

  “Hi, Grandma! What’s for dinner?”

  “Hello to you too. I’m ordering Chinese.”

  He looked at me. “No Fatberger?”

  “I can’t take that more than once a month. Once a lifetime would be preferable.”

  “Oh well,” Martin said, scratching Dandelion behind the ears as she purred contentedly.

  He walked over to my sofa, about to plop down in his usual spot and turn on the TV, when he stopped. His jaw dropped. His arms fell to his sides. Dandelion held on to his shirt for a moment or two, then jumped off and ran away.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  Then I followed his gaze.

  On the side table next to the sofa were the brochures Adrian and Zoe had given me—“The ABCs of Nudism,” “Nudism for all Ages,” and “Political Naturism: How We Can Bring Peace to the World Through a Clothing-Free Lifestyle.” Beside them was the latest issue of the glossy magazine Naturism Monthly.

  Martin turned to me with a look of utter horror. It was beyond shock—it was the soul-rending terror of gazing into the darkest abyss of existence and having it gaze back at you. It was the nihilistic agony of knowing that all your reality has been shattered.

  He looked at me, his aged grandmother, that kindly old woman who bought him cookies … and saw a nudist.

  “It’s not what you think,” I said, hearing how lame my words sounded.

  His eyes widened. If it wasn’t what he thought, it must be worse than he thought!

  “Can you keep a secret?” I asked.

  Martin shook his head, and again I realized I had said precisely the wrong thing. I needed to fix this situation immediately.

  “I was … helping with a murder investigation.”

  That caught him off guard.

  “Huh?”

  “Did you hear about the murder at the nudist colony?”

  “Yeah,” he said in a guarded tone.

  “I helped find the murderer. I’m not a nudist. I infiltrated the nudist colony to help the police because they would never suspect me.”

  “Huh?” Now Martin was utterly confused. He didn’t even notice Dandelion had gotten into an epic war with his shoelaces and was losing.

  “Sit down, Martin, and we’ll have a little chat. There are some things you don’t know about Grandma.”

  Catch up on all the books in the Secret Agent Granny series here.

  As you wait for book 5 of the Secret Granny Mysteries, read Harper’s other series, the Pink Cupcake Mysteries: A new divorcée starts selling her delicious cupcakes from a pink food truck, to the chagrin of her ex-husband. Can she be a single mom, run a thriving business, and solve strange murders in the quirky town of Gary, Oregon? Each book includes cupcake recipes! Buy the 1st book, Sweets and a Stabbing, no
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  About the Author

  Harper Lin is the USA TODAY bestselling author of 6 cozy mystery series including The Patisserie Mysteries and The Cape Bay Cafe Mysteries.

  When she's not reading or writing mysteries, she loves going to yoga classes, hiking, and hanging out with her family and friends.

  For a complete list of her books by series, visit her website. Follow Harper on social media using the icons below for the latest insider news.

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  A Note From Harper

  Thank you so much for reading Granny Bares It All. If you were entertained by the book, please recommend it to friends and family who would enjoy it too. I would also really appreciate it if you could write a book review to help spread the word.

  If you like this series, you might also enjoy my other series:

  • The Cape Bay Cafe Mysteries (ongoing series): When Fran moves back to her idyllic beach town to take over the family café, she also develops a knack for solving bizarre murders. Each book includes dessert recipes.

  • The Wonder Cats Mysteries (ongoing series): three witches and their magical cats solve paranormal murder cases in the mystical town of Wonder Falls.

  • The Pink Cupcake Mysteries (ongoing series): A new divorcée sells delicious cupcakes from a pink food truck, to the chagrin of her ex-husband. Each book includes cupcake recipes.

  • The Patisserie Mysteries (9 books): An heiress to a famous French patisserie chain takes over the family business, while using her status as a Parisian socialite to solve murders in high society. Each book includes French pastry recipes.

  • The Emma Wild Mysteries (4 books): a special holiday cozy series about a famous singer returning to her small Canadian town. Each book includes holiday dessert recipes.