Darlene Franklin - Dressed for Death 03 - Paint Me a Murder by Darlene Franklin
Authors: Darlene Franklin
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didn’t want to resist.
7
Rumors persist to this day that Larry Grace brought his share of the bank loot to the Circle G Ranch and hid it somewhere on the property. Generations of Grace Gulch kids have scoured the landscape looking for Grace’s hidey hole. The occasional school teacher made a search for the buried treasure the reward for finishing a section on local history.
Did Larry Grace share in the proceeds of the bank robbery? Did he hide it somewhere in Grace Gulch? No one knows, but this much is certain: In nine decades of searching, no one has uncovered any buried treasure.
From A History of Grace Gulch
Wednesday, September 13
Waa!! Waa!! A piercing blast of the horn ripped through the air as we gathered for prayer meeting at the Word of Faith Fellowship. Every person over the age of two in Oklahoma recognized that sound. Tornado warning. We scurried out of the sanctuary in an orderly line and to the basement to wait out the storm.
Audie joined the men standing at the open basement door, listening to a radio. Men. I never would understand their desire to stare at approaching disaster instead of waiting in safety until the all clear sounded. A storm chaser I was not. All the fuss woke up Junior and he began his ritual kickboxing routine. After a few minutes, I gave up the fight for a comfortable position on the metal folding chair and instead joined Enid in the kitchen where she was slicing fresh peaches and apples for a snack.
“How are you tonight?”
“Junior is giving me fits. I decided to help.” I grabbed an apple and peeled it. Kids preferred them that way.
“I wonder. . .” Enid cocked her head as if listening for something and then focused on me. “Never mind. Thanks for your help.”
“Kin I have an apple?” A little freckle-faced boy whose cowlick barely grazed the counter top begged.
“Of course!” I handed him a few slices. “And maybe you can bring some to your friends.”
He skipped away with a bowl. I’m not sure how many slices made it to his waiting circle of friends, but he seemed so happy.
Before we served all the fruit, the all clear sounded.
“Praise the Lord! The storm passed us by. The weatherman reports the tornado touched down in an isolated area east of town.” The pastor led us in singing “‘Til the Storm Passes Over,” our standard hymn after a tornado warning. After a simple prayer of thanks, he dismissed us to return home.
The storm had cooled the air somewhat, and I shivered in my sleeveless tank top. Audie pulled me close. “I promised I’d give you the shirt off my back, but that might scandalize the good folks of Word of Truth.” He whispered in my ear, and I giggled.
The subject of the tornado warning came up again after Audie and I settled into bed later that night. “Do you think anyone will guess the clue after tonight?” he asked.
“Eventually.”
~
Jenna climbed out of her new Jetta when I pulled up behind my store on Thursday morning. There go my plans. I had managed to arrive earlier than usual, hoping to hang the enlarged photos of Maria Tallchief and Lee Troup Johnson before customers started dribbling in. Maybe it was a good thing. Jenna could steady the ladder for me.
She grabbed the enlargements from the back seat. “Where do you want these?”
“Thanks. They’re going in the window display.” I hugged today’s bakery bag from Gaynor Goodies close to my chest and opened the door with my free hand. Jessie had baked pineapple upside down muffins today “just for you, Cici”.
“I’ll start on the window while you get the coffee going.” Jenna hurried ahead into the shop. I didn’t complain. Unlike Gilda, she had years of managing artwork. I trusted her with making an attractive display. She often helped me out.
I measured out enough of my favorite caramel-truffle decaf coffee for a pot, turned on the brewer, and joined Jenna in the front.
“What dresses are you putting out this week?” Jenna
7
Rumors persist to this day that Larry Grace brought his share of the bank loot to the Circle G Ranch and hid it somewhere on the property. Generations of Grace Gulch kids have scoured the landscape looking for Grace’s hidey hole. The occasional school teacher made a search for the buried treasure the reward for finishing a section on local history.
Did Larry Grace share in the proceeds of the bank robbery? Did he hide it somewhere in Grace Gulch? No one knows, but this much is certain: In nine decades of searching, no one has uncovered any buried treasure.
From A History of Grace Gulch
Wednesday, September 13
Waa!! Waa!! A piercing blast of the horn ripped through the air as we gathered for prayer meeting at the Word of Faith Fellowship. Every person over the age of two in Oklahoma recognized that sound. Tornado warning. We scurried out of the sanctuary in an orderly line and to the basement to wait out the storm.
Audie joined the men standing at the open basement door, listening to a radio. Men. I never would understand their desire to stare at approaching disaster instead of waiting in safety until the all clear sounded. A storm chaser I was not. All the fuss woke up Junior and he began his ritual kickboxing routine. After a few minutes, I gave up the fight for a comfortable position on the metal folding chair and instead joined Enid in the kitchen where she was slicing fresh peaches and apples for a snack.
“How are you tonight?”
“Junior is giving me fits. I decided to help.” I grabbed an apple and peeled it. Kids preferred them that way.
“I wonder. . .” Enid cocked her head as if listening for something and then focused on me. “Never mind. Thanks for your help.”
“Kin I have an apple?” A little freckle-faced boy whose cowlick barely grazed the counter top begged.
“Of course!” I handed him a few slices. “And maybe you can bring some to your friends.”
He skipped away with a bowl. I’m not sure how many slices made it to his waiting circle of friends, but he seemed so happy.
Before we served all the fruit, the all clear sounded.
“Praise the Lord! The storm passed us by. The weatherman reports the tornado touched down in an isolated area east of town.” The pastor led us in singing “‘Til the Storm Passes Over,” our standard hymn after a tornado warning. After a simple prayer of thanks, he dismissed us to return home.
The storm had cooled the air somewhat, and I shivered in my sleeveless tank top. Audie pulled me close. “I promised I’d give you the shirt off my back, but that might scandalize the good folks of Word of Truth.” He whispered in my ear, and I giggled.
The subject of the tornado warning came up again after Audie and I settled into bed later that night. “Do you think anyone will guess the clue after tonight?” he asked.
“Eventually.”
~
Jenna climbed out of her new Jetta when I pulled up behind my store on Thursday morning. There go my plans. I had managed to arrive earlier than usual, hoping to hang the enlarged photos of Maria Tallchief and Lee Troup Johnson before customers started dribbling in. Maybe it was a good thing. Jenna could steady the ladder for me.
She grabbed the enlargements from the back seat. “Where do you want these?”
“Thanks. They’re going in the window display.” I hugged today’s bakery bag from Gaynor Goodies close to my chest and opened the door with my free hand. Jessie had baked pineapple upside down muffins today “just for you, Cici”.
“I’ll start on the window while you get the coffee going.” Jenna hurried ahead into the shop. I didn’t complain. Unlike Gilda, she had years of managing artwork. I trusted her with making an attractive display. She often helped me out.
I measured out enough of my favorite caramel-truffle decaf coffee for a pot, turned on the brewer, and joined Jenna in the front.
“What dresses are you putting out this week?” Jenna
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