Annie sighed. “No, I don’t know what John was talking about, Peggy, but I think it must have something to do with the mystery about the box because Alice told Gwen about the new clue after she and Stella got back from the museum. Then, when I went to ask John if Gwen was all right after she missed the meeting, he refused to talk to me.”
“Hmm. Well, you know we all like helping you with your mysteries. It gives us an excuse for snooping and adds a little excitement to the week. You have ended up with people mad at you before. I just never thought the Palmers would be.”
“We’re going to have to find other things to do for excitement, Peggy,” said Annie, knowing already that snooping had never needed an excuse in Stony Point. “I’m through with mysteries, for good. I’m tired of being the spark that sets off all these emotional and relational fires. The town has burned down enough times in its history, it doesn’t need me blowing hot embers everywhere.”
“Aw, Annie, don’t feel bad. It’s not your fault—”
Annie jumped as someone banged on the door.
18
The insistent pounding at her front door jarred Annie into urgency.
“Peggy, I need to go. Someone’s at my door. If you hear anything else about Gwen or from her, please let me know. Bye!” Annie placed the handset back in its charger and ran to the door. A blast of wind tried to wrestle the door from her grip. A man stood on the porch, his face shrouded in the shadows of a raincoat hood. Fighting the urge to slam the door, Annie spoke, voice raised to compete with the wind and rain. “Hello! How can I help you?”
A hand lifted and pushed back the hood. It was John Palmer. In spite of the strange occurrence in town Annie was relieved to see him.
“John! Please come in!” Annie widened the opening of the door, stepping back. John stamped his feet to shake off some of the water and mud, and stepped over the threshold, stopping just inside the door on the entry rug.
“You ask how you could help me,” said John with a rusty hinge of a voice. “You can help by giving up your meddling ways!” His eyes darted around the foyer and hall until they rested on a portrait of Charles and Betsy Holden and narrowed. “Your grandparents were meddlers too!”
“Since everyone in Stony Point seems to know everyone else’s business, I should fit right in, just like Grandpa and Gram did!” Annie retorted. As frustrated as she was with John’s accusation, Annie caught herself before her emotions got the best of her and tried a different angle. “John, Gwen has told me story after story of ways Gram was a blessing to others. She didn’t seem to think that was meddling.” Boots appeared near the top of the stairs, descending slowly one step at a time, as if sizing up the situation.
“Well, she does now!” John paused with his mouth open, gasping in air. Annie expected him to continue, but he didn’t.
“Is Gwen in the car?” asked Annie. “Let’s all sit down and talk about this.”
“No!”
“Is that no to her being in the car or no to talking?” Annie tried to keep her voice as calm as possible, but calm was the last thing she felt, her heart pounding like a drum.
Uncertainty flickered in John’s eyes, but he clamped his mouth shut.
“What I still don’t know is what I’ve done to meddle in your business—or Gwen’s.” As Annie spoke, Boots stepped down into the foyer, padding forward to lightly brush against Annie’s legs. Then the cat positioned herself between John and Annie with ears pricked sideways and her tail pointed at an angle toward the floor, ready to show aggression, if need be.
“Well, I’m not about to educate you!” John’s voice heightened to a yell. He yanked the hood of his coat back over his head. “But don’t you ever bring hurt or harm to my wife again.” He jerked open the door, tossing back over his shoulder, “Better yet, go back to Texas!” The slam of the door reverberated from the door frame out along the wall.
Annie sank down to sit on the bottom step of the staircase, holding out a hand to Boots. The potential threat gone, Boots’s tail lifted and her ears moved forward as she drew close to Annie for a rub. “Whew!” Annie exclaimed in an attempt to lighten the moment. “If John could swing a golf club like he swung that door, his golfing buddies would be impressed!” That didn’t work, so she allowed the automatic movement of her hand over fur to calm her.
“I have to find Gwen, Boots. I don’t think she was with John. If she’s as upset as he is, she could be so vulnerable on a night like this.” Annie gave Boots one last scratch under the chin before going into the living room for the phone. She punched in Gwen’s cell phone number, wincing as she heard the rain splattering against the window like snowballs thrown by the wind. Gwen’s voice mail greeting spoke into Annie’s ear. Disappointed but not surprised, Annie left another message. “Gwen, it’s Annie. Please call me. I’m worried about you.”