Boxed In Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  About the Author

  Boxed In

  Copyright © 2011 DRG.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews. For information address DRG, 306 East Parr Road, Berne, Indiana 46711-1138.

  The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.

  ________________________________________

  Library of Congress-in-Publication Data

  Boxed In / by Karen Kelly

  p. cm.

  ISBN: 978-1-59635-380-0

  I. Title

  2011900303

  ________________________________________

  AnniesMysteries.com

  800-282-6643

  Annie’s Attic Mysteries

  Series Creator: Stenhouse & Associates, Ridgefield, Connecticut

  Series Editors: Ken and Janice Tate

  1

  “Boots, you sentimental old cat, there’s no reason for you to be cranky with me. I was only gone a week.” Annie Dawson bent down to scratch the gray cat under her chin. Boots closed her eyes, stretching her chin forward to get a better angle for enjoyment. “All forgiven?”

  As if coming to her senses, Boots’s eyes popped back open and she turned away from Annie. She sidestepped away from the legs of her human housemate without rubbing against them as usual. Apparently, forgiveness was going to be a process. Boots had been even more eccentric than usual since Annie’s friend and neighbor had brought the cat back home. “I know Alice spoiled you rotten while I was in Texas, so don’t try to make me feel guilty.” Boots’s tail jerked quickly forward before she padded down the hall from the kitchen to the living room, jumped onto the couch and settled down among the pillows.

  Annie picked up her Lone Star coffee mug to take a final sip. Concerns had lurked in Annie’s mind before the trip to celebrate her twin grandchildren’s birthdays. Would she find it too hard to leave her daughter, son-in-law, grandchildren, and friends again to return to Stony Point, Maine? Would staying in the home she had shared so many years with her late husband, Wayne, bring fresh grief? Would she regret her decision to allow her church in Texas to use her home as a missionary retreat? But, like the cup of French roast coffee she’d just finished, the trip had satisfied and invigorated her.

  Annie washed out her mug at the sink, setting it on the drain board to dry. As she walked down the hall to grab her purse and a sweater, the doorbell rang. That’s got to be Alice, she thought. Before she could get close enough to reach out for the doorknob, a gray blur shot out from the living room. Boots planted herself, her back to the door with her fur fluffed, a miniature dragon protecting her treasure. “Boots, don’t be silly.” Annie stepped closer and reached to open the door. The cat put up a paw to bat at her trouser-covered legs. “Hey, watch those claws.”

  From the other side of the door came Alice’s voice. “Annie, is that you? What’s up with the door—another chore for Wally?”

  “I’m being held hostage by an ornery feline! I wonder if Wally does hostage negotiation.” Annie laughed as she bent down to try and scoot Boots out of the path of the door. The cat simply sidestepped along the door, and Annie scooted only air. The door remained blocked.

  “Try a Kitty Crunchies bribe. If that doesn’t work, call her bluff and open the door anyway. Boots won’t let herself get whacked with this old heavy door. Cats are creatures of self-preservation.” Alice’s voice lilted with semi-suppressed giggles.

  “That’s why she stays. She knows a softie when she sees one.” Annie turned her back on the topic of the conversation, heading back to the kitchen. Pulling out the box of Kitty Crunchies from a bottom cabinet, she shook the box as she walked slowly back. She put on what she thought of as her best bribe voice, crooning, “What does a dragon kitty need to turn back into a beautiful Boots? Come get some Kitty Crunchies.” Looking back at the door as though weighing her options, Boots straightened her tail into the air and abandoned her post. Annie poured a good portion into Boots’s bowl and gave her a quick pat before rescuing Alice from the porch.

  “How long is she going to give me this treatment? Will we go through this every time I go on a trip?” Annie said as Alice entered the foyer.

  “I think she’ll snap out of it pretty fast. But don’t rely on the Kitty Crunchies too often, or she may decide to make it permanent.” Alice shuddered but couldn’t hide her grin.

  “Good point. I also don’t want to quadruple my budget for cat treats. Hey, I need to go to town this morning to find Wally. Do you know where he’s working this week?”

  “At Ian’s house, I think. I heard him mention it to Peggy this weekend at The Cup & Saucer. I was planning to go to town too. Want to ride together? I’ll put the top down.” Alice took the keys to her Mustang convertible from her jeans pocket and dangled them in front of Annie.

  “Second successful bribe of the day, and it’s not even nine o’clock yet! Use your powers for good, friend.” Annie scooped up her purse and sweater from the hallway table. She lowered her voice. “We better slip out fast.”

  Alice cocked an ear toward the kitchen. The soft sound of crunching seemed to be slowing. She opened her eyes wide in mock terror and tiptoed to the door. Turning the knob, she opened it inch by inch to keep it from creaking. They kept their silence until safely in the convertible. Alice slowly backed out of the driveway onto Ocean Drive.

  “Did you find more repairs at Grey Gables for Wally?” Alice asked. “Don’t tell me something broke while you were gone.”

  “I do have some work for him, but no repairs this time.” Annie tied an oversized red scarf under her hair and tucked away the stray layers of blond hair so she wouldn’t have to fight tangles when they arrived in town. “The toy lobster boat Wally made for John’s birthday was a huge hit at the twins’ birthday party. I have quite a list of Brookfield mothers who can’t wait for Wally to make one for each of their own children.”

  “Oh, Peggy will be so thrilled! This will be one year Wally and Peggy won’t have to struggle for income in the winter season. Emily might be able to keep her dancing lessons for the whole year. Annie, what a blessing.” Alice put her right hand up for a high five.

  Meeting the raised hand with her own, Annie responded, “I hope this will give Wally the encouragement to realize that he does have the ability to support his family. He has thought of himself as a borderline failure for too long.” Though he had developed into an excellent handyman, depended upon by the Stony Point homeowners to keep their homes and businesses in sound working order, Wally had had trouble putting the memories of his troubled youth away for good. “I can’t wait to see his face when he sees the orders.”

  “If it wouldn’t freak him out, I’d love to get a photo of his reaction.” Alice rounded a curve and switched on her turn signal at Maple Street. Mornings in late summer were fresh and crisp, reminders that ripe apples of the same nature would be filling the
orchards soon.

  “Ah, the lupines are sprouting.” Annie nodded to the right where the sandy and rock-dotted soil on the roadside made the perfect nursery for the hardy plants. “I always loved the Texas bluebonnets back home. Here I get to enjoy even more colors—purple, pink, blue—they’re just glorious. Looks like we’ll have plenty to enjoy next summer.”

  “Just don’t get any ideas about transplanting them for your garden.” Alice shook a finger, setting a bangle bracelet dancing, “Remember.”

  “Been trying not to, thank you very much,” Annie said with a sheepish grin. “I was twelve. How was I supposed to know lupines are aphid magnets.”

  “Good thing for you Betsy was good-natured and believed in learning from mistakes,” Alice said, referring to Annie’s grandmother, Betsy Holden, who had passed away the previous year, leaving her rambling oceanside home to Annie. “But I didn’t enjoy spending those summer hours in Betsy’s garden conducting a search-and-destroy mission instead of beachcombing.”

  “I can hear her now. ‘If Thomas Edison had stopped at his first hundred mistakes, we’d still be using tallow candles and oil lamps.’” Annie’s smile shaded with wistfulness. “I hope I never forget her voice. Or Wayne’s.”

  “Some people are better at remembrance than others. Like Betsy, you’re a memory keeper.” Alice turned into a long driveway, leading to the Butler house. Like many of the houses on the outskirts of Stony Point, it was well over a hundred years old. And unlike the town, which had had to be rebuilt three times due to its history of battles, it had aged gracefully with help from a great deal of elbow grease supplied by the Butler family. “There’s Wally’s truck. I guess my memory isn’t so bad, either. Short-term, anyway.”

  Annie slid off her scarf and tucked it into a side pocket of her purse. As she and Alice climbed out of the Mustang, the door of the Butler house opened. Ian Butler filled the doorway with his almost military posture and ever-present energy.

  “Alice and Annie, good morning! To what do I owe this pleasure?” During her time in Stony Point Annie had seen Mayor Ian Butler excited, perplexed, frustrated, determined, pleased, and almost every other emotion in existence. What she had never seen him was bored. Today was no exception. Ian was always carpe diem personified.

  “Ian, I’m sorry to just drop by like this. I thought you’d already be in town, plunging into your mayoral duties,” Annie answered.

  “It’s true I’m leaving a little later than on a typical day. Wally and I are strategizing our plan of attack on aging bathrooms.” Ian’s look of glee gave the two women a glimpse of what the mayor of Stony Point looked like at ten years old.

  “It’s Wally I actually came to talk with. But don’t worry, I’m not going to try to wrangle him away from you before he’s brought your bathrooms into submission.”

  “That’s probably the easiest request I’ll hear all day. Wally’s in the downstairs bathroom today. Down the center hall, second door on the left.” Ian held the door open for them until they stepped into the foyer. “I’ll be in the study, if you need me,” Ian pointed to the French doors across from the living room.

  Industrious sounds coming from down the hall made Ian’s directions to Wally unnecessary. “Hi, Wally. How’s the bathroom coming?” Annie raised her voice over the sounds of tile removal. Wally was standing in a rubble of tile chunks with hammer in one hand and putty knife in the other. Chink, chink. Another bit of tile tumbled to the floor. Wally turned around, set the knife down on the corner of the sink, and then pushed his safety glasses up with the back of his hand.

  “Ayuh, Annie. Alice. Watch your step. Broken tile can cut through shoe soles.” Porcelain dust aged Wally’s thick head of hair. “Did you have a good time in Texas?”

  “It was a wonderful week. I’ve never seen John as excited with a gift as he was with the toy boat you made.”

  “That’s real good to hear, Annie. Emily’s been helping me make her ballerina boat. Course, it’s nothing like anything you’ll ever see chugging into Stony Point harbor.” The three chuckled at the thought.

  “How long do you think it will take for you to finish with Emily’s boat? The reason I ask is ...” Annie reached into her purse and took out a piece of paper. She offered it to Wally. “John wasn’t the only one who loved his boat. This is a list of mothers who are hoping you will be able to make boats for their children too. Your lobster boat is a hit.”

  Wally’s mouth opened, and he drew in a surprised breath as he saw the list of names and contact information. Annie leaned over and pointed to a number she’d written at the top.

  “That’s the price they’d like to pay. Is that all right?”

  “All right? I thought what you paid me was too much! Are they sure?” Wally blinked his eyes several times. His hands were too dusty to rub his eyes, so he blinked instead, as though he expected the numbers to rearrange themselves with each blink.

  “The ladies were very sure. Toy or specialty stores would probably charge even more for boats with inferior construction. So many companies are selling disposable, low-quality toys these days that people appreciate your boat because it will last to be handed down for generations to come.”

  “Annie’s right, Wally,” Alice chimed in. “The toys we had when we were growing up didn’t break very easily. That’s why we still find them in Betsy’s attic. It’s hard to find toys that will last now.”

  Wally was mentally adding up the profit for each boat. Excitement built with each addition. “This will make up for my usual winter shortfall. Emily can dance through the winter! Might even be able to put some aside.”

  “Make sure you tell me when the Christmas recital is,” Annie said.

  Alice chimed in, “Me too.”

  “I will, I will.” Puffs of dust floated into the air with Wally’s enthusiastic nod.

  “We don’t want to keep you from your tile, so we’ll head out now. We both have errands in town,” said Alice.

  “If you see Peggy, would you please not tell her about the boat orders? I want to surprise her tonight.” Wally realized he was not giving them an easy task. His wife could coax information from the tightest lips.

  “We promise to do our best, but you know Peggy. Good thing the KGB never had someone like her on their side. The Cold War might have been very different,” Alice quipped.

  “You’re telling me. Try hiding an anniversary present from her.” Wally’s shy grin spread again across his face as he folded and tucked the order list into a pocket in his carpenter pants.

  Annie and Alice left Wally to his hammer and knife. “That was a fun way to start the day,” Annie said. “I feel a little like a fairy godmother.”

  “We’ll pick you up a wand at Malone’s Hardware while we’re in town. Mike carries a little of everything. He might even have some jars of fairy dust.” Alice had just finished speaking when the door to the study opened. Ian popped his head into the hall.

  “Did I hear someone say ‘in town’? Would you ladies be interested in sharing a booth at The Cup & Saucer? I haven’t had breakfast or coffee yet.”

  “Now that you mention it,” said Annie, “ I fed Boots but not myself.”

  “Last one there leaves the tip!” Alice laid down the gauntlet while scooting to the door. “Tie your scarf tight, Annie. We’ve got this one in the bag.”

  “We’ll see about that!” The mayor grabbed his briefcase, and the race was on.

  2

  Annie and Alice tumbled through the door of The Cup & Saucer, breathless from laughter. Peggy came toward them with platters of pancakes and eggs lined along her arms.

  “Has a nor’easter blown into harbor?” she asked.

  Annie pushed her scarf off her head, her eyes scanning the booths. “We’re having a little race with the mayor. And it looks like we’ve won!”

  “I knew it was a sure thing.” Alice’s eyes twinkled as her words came out in quick little bursts. “A Mustang will beat any car driven by a mayor with a reputation to protec
t.”

  Annie glanced out the window. “He’s coming down the street. Quick! There’s a booth.” Peggy laughed as she took the food she was holding to a table of hungry sightseers. Annie and Alice slid into the left seat of the booth just as Ian entered the diner. The women simultaneously waved, waggling their fingers playfully.

  Ian strode over to the booth. He stopped about a foot from the table and dropped down into a deep bow. “M’ladies, you have vanquished this humble public servant.”

  “Have no fear, Sir Butler,” said Alice. “You will live to race, and lose, another day.”

  “Be careful you don’t underestimate the mayor’s competitive spirit,” replied Annie, “or gumption, as we call it in Texas.”

  Ian remained in his bow.

  “It’s going to be difficult to drink coffee in that position,” Alice teased. “And Peggy’s coming.” Ian straightened and took his seat opposite the two women. Peggy filled the space he had vacated, setting a mug in front of each of them and pouring coffee.

  “Annie, out with it now. How did John like the lobster boat?” Her blue eyes stared into Annie’s green ones as she tapped out a rhythm on the table with her free hand. Tiny lobsters had replaced the tiny flags that had decorated her nails in July. Peggy’s beautician sister, Mitzy, had outdone herself this month.

  Annie resisted the urge to nudge Alice with her elbow. “LeeAnn could hardly drag John and his friends away from the boat—even for his very favorite birthday cake and cookies and cream ice cream! I was worried for a minute he would try to float it in the punch bowl and lay out the traps.”

  “I told Wally that boat was a beauty, but he kept worrying about whether he had made it right or not.” Pride radiated from Peggy’s blue eyes. “Now, do you three want your usuals or are you going to change things up?”

  “Apparently, I’m the only one who actually ate breakfast this morning. Coffee’s all I need,” answered Alice.

  Annie reached over to check the menu sheet. Peggy nodded at Ian. “Mayor?”

  “I got creative last week so I’ll have the usual.”