Gone Grandpa by Andrea C. Neil

Author:Andrea C. Neil [Andrea C. Neil]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 1631 Press, LLC
Published: 2024-05-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Delphine was grateful to Kenji for taking Marge back to the airport; otherwise, she would have had to do all the driving herself, and that was not a happy thought. For a nice, long stretch, she hadn’t needed to travel around LA very much. She’d stayed close to home, her only driving being to pick up groceries, or to go to the Sassy Steppers Dance Studio to perform with her ballroom dancing club, the Foxy Trotters.

For some reason, life had gotten inexplicably complicated over the last several months. While not all events were directly related to Marge, the woman did seem to be the catalyst for a large percentage of Delphine’s recent escapades. She hoped it was not the beginning of a long-term trend.

In the quiet of her tidy sanctuary, she pulled out her legal pad again and made more notes about the case. But no matter how many times she thumbed through the pages and studied the details, nothing added up.

When she’d come home from the store with Zooey that afternoon, Alvine had been parked on the street, several houses down. She kept parking in front of Mr. Carrasco’s house. He was notoriously cantankerous, and Delphine worried he might call the police on Alvine’s sketchy rental car. But maybe that wouldn’t be so bad? No, that attitude invited trouble.

In truth, Delphine felt kind of sorry for Alvine. Long-term surveillance was boring and exhausting. She texted Alvine and offered to bring her a snack. Alvine texted back saying no thank you, she was currently following Kenji back from the airport and they’d all gone through a 24-hour donut shop drive-thru. She inquired if they’d made any progress, and wondered about the trip to the airport. Delphine told her no, they hadn’t, and the trip to LAX had been to pick up a special delivery. Alvine went quiet.

Before she knew it, Kenji came in the front door lugging a suitcase that looked identical to Marge’s. Marge came in next, holding a bakery bag.

“That was fast,” said Delphine.

“We got lucky,” said Kenji. “Only three accidents on the way there, and on the way back we drove against traffic.”

“Nice,” said Delphine.

“We stopped for donuts!” said Marge, holding up the bag, which featured several blotchy grease stains. “Want one?”

“No thanks,” said Delphine. The Russian tea cookies had been spectacular, and besides, she’d already filled her hydrogenated oil quota for the year.

“Where do you want this?” Kenji set the suitcase down and rolled it a few feet into the living room.

Delphine cleared a stack of photography books and some mystery paperbacks off her coffee table, and Kenji gently placed the suitcase on its surface, careful not to scratch the dark wood.

“What’re you doing with that?” asked Marge through a mouthful of greasy donut.

“We are going to open it.” Delphine knelt to inspect the bag and located a small lock holding the zipper pulls together.

Marge sat down on the couch to watch. “We can’t look in there, that’s private.”

“If it saves Willard’s life, I don’t think he’ll mind.

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