by H L Bur
“Have you found anything out?” I asked warily.
“So far, not much. I know she was a young woman from downstate with family ties to the area, but other than that, I don’t know much,” he offered.
I didn’t volunteer that I had already known that information.
“What about phone records, fingerprints, anything like that?”
“Oh thanks, I hadn’t thought of that,” he joked.
“I know, sorry.” I half-laughed at myself.
“No, I’m just teasing you. So, why are you so knowledgeable about dead bodies?”
“I was an ER nurse for a long time and have seen my fair share of death, too. I also took an elective Forensics course while I was in nursing school,” I explained.
“Wow, that’s great. Why did you switch careers?”
“Well, long story short, it just wasn’t for me. I mean, I loved the ER part of the job, actually saving lives and helping people in emergent situations, but the hospital politics and the abuse ER nurses have to go through pushed me over the edge. I’m much happier around books.” I laughed.
“Well, life is too short and we work for too much of it not to be happy with our jobs. And just for the record, I was very impressed with how you handled yourself this morning and how clever you were. Not many people could’ve thought on their feet like that,” he stated.
I felt my cheeks blush. “How come you acted like such a jerk to me then?”
“Again, I am really sorry about that, but I go into Detective mode and everyone is a suspect. I had to be sure. Chief Kowalski gave me hell for that, by the way.”
“He did?” I was surprised. “Well good, I’m glad! And you deserved hell after the way you acted.”
“It won’t happen again.” He threw me the Scout’s honor sign.
We sat there and talked for a few more minutes until the sun was down. I drove back to the bookstore to drop him off.
“Thank you for the nice tour, Cady.”
“There’s a lot more I could’ve shown you, I’m sorry if that was kind of boring.”
“Then we will have more to see next time.” He smiled. “I mean it though, thanks for helping me to clear my mind.”
“Same to you. Have a good night.” I smiled in return.
His gaze lingered a few moments longer than necessary before he got out and shut the door. I waited until he was in his truck and I pulled back onto the road and headed for home. I was exhausted. This may have been the longest day of my entire life and I was so ready for it to be over.
I plopped into my chair by the fireplace when I got home as I whined to Quinn to make me a cup of green tea with honey and lemon. She grudgingly obliged. Gigi was sitting in her recliner, catching the final round of Jeopardy!. She was being awfully quiet.
“Gigi, where were you this morning?” I asked.
“Why do you care?” she snapped back.
“We were just a little worried about you. It’s not like you to miss sending us off in the morning,” I offered, trying to keep a nice tone in my voice.
“Well, I see you managed to survive without me.”
“Grandma, she’s just trying to make sure you’re alright,” Quinn jumped in.
“Mind your own business,” she cautioned.
I sighed while Quinn rolled her eyes.
“Do you even know that Cady found a dead body in the woods today?”
The brief widening of Gigi’s eyes gave away her surprise, but her stone-faced expression returned almost immediately.
“How did you manage that? Did you trip over her?” she asked rudely.
“No, I - wait, how did you know it was a ‘her’?” I eyed her suspiciously.
“I, uh, I didn’t. I guessed,” Gigi stammered. “There was a fifty-two percent chance that it was a female. It’s basic statistics,” she added. “Don’t they teach you kids anything these days?”
“Yeah right you guessed,” Quinn confronted her. “Spill.”
“I don’t know what you two are trying to imply, but I don’t like it.” With that, she disappeared.
Quinn and I looked at each other with confusion.
“That was weird,” Quinn said.
“She is definitely up to something,” I agreed.
Quinn shook her head. “Okay, well I’m going to bed.”
“It’s only nine o’clock! I thought maybe we could look through those pages you copied to see if we can find any clues.”
“I know. I wanted to, too, but we have to help my mom in the morning.”
“Oh noooo,” I groaned. “I totally forgot about that, uggghhhh,” I sank back into my chair and felt about two seconds away from throwing a temper tantrum.
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, I guess I better go to bed, too, then.” I sighed heavily as I heaved myself up out of the chair.
I trekked upstairs, took a quick shower and threw my hair up in a wet bun, too exhausted from the day to even bother drying it. For the second time this week, I’m pretty sure I was sleeping before my head hit the pillow.
Chapter Seven
Ξ
I woke up to my alarm going off at five forty-five the next morning. My sleep had been restless and I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. My mind immediately went to the events of the previous morning. I wondered if the police had any new developments, but the thought was quickly drowned out from Quinn yelling up the stairs.
“Caaadddyyyy, are you getting up? You know we can’t be late!”
I groaned and rolled myself over in bed, pushing myself into an upright position with my legs dangling over the edge, my feet twisted up in my white down comforter. I felt groggy and sluggish. Clearly my mental angst had prevented me from getting any true rest last night.
I untangled my feet and pushed myself up, shuffled over to my closet with eyes half opened and picked out an old pair of jeans, a worn ‘Up North’ tee, and an old grey hoodie. I stumbled my way to the bathroom and put my contacts in, each eye burning in protest as the soft round discs suction cupped to them. I made my way downstairs, led by the smell of freshly brewing coffee. Quinn and Gigi were sitting around the kitchen table bickering.
“I’m not going to tell you again to mind your own business,” Gigi snapped.
“I want to know what you’re up to. I’m sure it involves either me or Cady…or both of us. We have a right to know what you are scheming.”
“Would you believe it if I told you not everything is about you? Kids these days! You are all so self-absorbed. Grow up.” Gigi shook her head.
“You are impossible.”
Gigi stuck her tongue out and blew a raspberry.
“Yup, I’m the one who needs to grow up,” Quinn replied sarcastically.
I ignored them and went for the coffee. I joined them at the table, but tried not to make eye contact, figuring it would give me the best chance of avoiding confrontation. “Good morning,” I said quietly.
“What’s so good about it?” Gigi asked defiantly.
“Well, it’s supposed to be a beautiful day out today, and it’s the first day of Autumn Fest…that’s exciting,” I offered.
“Mmm, I can hardly contain myself,” Gigi remarked, a huge fake smile plastering her face.
“Thanks, Grandma, you’ve always been so supportive.”
“You’ll shut your trap if you know what’s good for you!” She pointed her index finger at me menacingly.
“Grandma,” Quinn went on, ignoring me and ignoring Gigi’s threat. “How did you already know about that girl from yesterday?” she asked sternly.
“Am I supposed to know what on God’s green earth you are yammering on about?”
“Don’t play opossum with me,” Quinn warned. “You already knew about that girl that was killed and I want to know how.”
“You want to know about the grill that was cold?” She feigned bad hearing. “Girl, you’re not making any sense. How should I know why your grill was cold? Did you try lighting it?”
&n
bsp; I sighed. “Okay, and on that note, we’ve got to be going. Have a great day, Gigi.”
“We will figure out what you’re up to,” Quinn added before she rose from the table.
Gigi pretended she didn’t hear her, but the slight pursing of her lips told me otherwise.
Quinn and I both rose from the table and each slipped on our old work boots that we saved for doing yard work.
I paused at the front door. “What exactly are we getting ourselves into?” I asked, fear lacing my voice.
“Only heaven knows,” Quinn replied less than reassuringly.
“Eh, I’m sure it’ll be fine, right? I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“I don’t think I want to know the answer to that question.”
I drove since my car had more room for storing tools. We figured Quinn’s dad would have everything we needed, but just to be safe, we brought some tie down straps, shovels, a small spade, a tarp, and a chainsaw - just in case. Not that either of us had actually ever used a chainsaw before…but really, how hard could it be?
We made a right out of the drive and Quinn pulled a stack of papers from her tote bag.
“I figured we could take a look at these on our way,” she said as she thumbed through the manuscript copies.
“I like the way you think.”
“Okay, let’s see…”
“Look at the history parts and the design section…oh, and the section on the Straits,” I suggested eagerly.
Quinn stared at me blankly.
“What?” I asked innocently.
“That is the entire book, so thank you for your suggestion - so helpful.”
“Don’t be rude,” I rolled my eyes.
“Just be quiet and drive. It’s only like forty pages, I think I can manage.”
I silently acquiesced. I made a left onto Old Maple Way and headed towards town. To get to Aunt Liddy and Uncle Bernard’s, we had to go all the way through town and then head southeast toward Turner Lake. There was a small village named after the lake and my aunt and uncle had a beautiful home right on the water. My aunt loved hosting get-togethers and last summer she had Uncle Bernard build her a beautiful gazebo overlooking the water. It was a Victorian style gazebo made of cedar. Beautiful arched beams met with a shingled roof. And, apparently, it was the ideal location for a birch tree that was already happily growing a hundred yards away.
We drove on in silence so Quinn could concentrate.
“Find anything yet?” I asked as we turned from Main Street onto the highway that led out of town.
“Well, the Straits of Mackinac section talks about the waterway being used for shipping, how the icebreaker keeps a passageway open in the winter, yada yada, we already know that…huh, apparently the Straits have the strongest currents in all of the Great Lakes and the rapids made it easy to power the sawmill back in the day…I never knew that.”
“Anything else?” I asked hopefully.
“Um…it talks about the ferries that would transport train cars across the Straits back and forth from the Upper Peninsula for the logging railroads.”
“What about the sawmill designs?”
Quinn gave me a sidelong glance and narrowed her eyes. “I’m getting there.”
“Okay, sorry - geesh!”
“I don’t know…it just looks like blueprints for a sawmill. It looks like an old barn with one side open that looks like a wooden conveyor belt type thingy leading to a wooden box looking section where the saw was housed. It’s sitting up on beams and there is a waterwheel with a flume and then there’s a ramp coming from the other end of the saw house where the cut logs came out. I don’t know…it just looks like a sawmill.”
I pulled into Aunt Liddy and Uncle Bernard’s drive. “What could Brent want with it? And who was that creepy guy? How can we find out who he is?”
My questions went unanswered as Quinn let out a groan and shook her head. I followed her gaze to find Aunt Liddy standing on her front porch in her bathrobe with a towel piled up on her head and a green goopy facial mask covering her face and neck, waving at us happily. Oh boy, here we go.
“Is that a mimosa in her hand?” I questioned.
“Most likely,” Quinn replied nonchalantly.
“Hi girls!” Aunt Liddy yelled while we climbed out of the vehicle. “Do you want a drink?” She waved her champagne glass in the air.
“Yeah, Mom, we should drink mimosas before we play with power tools and ten-foot-tall trees.”
“Missy, you don’t need to be so snappy all the time. Maybe a drink would loosen up those britches of yours that are wound so tight.”
“You’re right, I don’t have one single reason to be annoyed at six thirty in the morning on a Saturday when I’m about to dig up a tree, which I will remind you, I know nothing about!”
“Don’t forget to mow the lawn, dear,” Aunt Liddy sang out. “Your father is out in the pole barn gassing up the mower.”
“Thanks a million,” Quinn grumbled.
“Okay, I’ve got lawn duty, while you get to work on that tree,” I tried.
“Haha, it’s cute when you try to make jokes,” she spat back at me.
We walked over to the pole barn to meet Uncle Bernard. He was wearing his typical blue jeans and a relaxed tee. His salt and pepper hair contrasted strikingly with his olive complexion.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, Uncle Bernard.”
“Hello, how are my favorite daughter and favorite niece today?” Using one finger, he slid his glasses up his nose to readjust them.
“Oh, we’re just peachy,” I joked.
He chuckled as he shook his head. “My back is starting to feel better, but Aunt Liddy won’t let me lift a finger. I’ll walk you guys through it, though. It shouldn’t be too bad.”
I felt a momentary sense of relief. That is, until we rounded the corner and saw the tree. Okay, it was seriously more like twelve feet tall, the trunk was the diameter of a small cantaloupe, and it had a full canopy of green and yellow leaves.
“Um, Uncle Bernard. Are you sure this is going to work? That tree seems really tall. Don’t you think its root system is already in place?”
“I think we can give it the old college try.”
“Great,” I grimaced.
“I already pruned the roots this time last year, so the root ball should be manageable,” he explained.
“I’m sorry, could I have that in English, please?”
Quinn let out a nervous chuckle.
“Last fall, I drove a shovel down into the roots all around the tree about three feet in all directions, so the root system should be fairly well contained within that three-foot radius.”
“Ah.” I thought I understood.
“Kurt came up last weekend with his backhoe and dug out the hole we’ll be moving it to and if we can just dig it up and lean it onto my front loader, I’ll be able to drive it over to its new home,” Uncle Bernard added.
“Oh thank God!” Quinn blurted.
“Should we mow first and then do the tree?” I asked.
“Sounds good…I’ll mow, you can weed whack.”
I shot her an icy glare. Of course she would pick the easy job where you just get to sit and ride.
“Fine,” I glowered.
I started in the front yard, edging my way around the trees, shrubs, and flowerbeds. I actually didn’t mind weed whacking. I felt like I was taking all of my recent angst out on the weeds. As I weed whacked my way along the stone path that led to the backyard I caught some movement in my periphery. I glanced toward the back porch where the movement was coming from and watched as Aunt Liddy closed the slider door and made her way up the steps of the deck to an elevated sunning area, fresh mimosa in hand.
She had changed into a black pair of capris with black strappy wedge sandals and a white blouse with a giant hummingbird on the front. She had washed off her facial mask, put on some makeup, and curled her hair. I wasn’t sure what the occasion was, but by the
looks of her stumbling, she had had a few too many mimosas this morning. She gave me a thumbs up as if to say ‘keep up the good work’. She turned to lean her back against the porch railing, but her wedge sandal must have caught on an uneven deck board and her momentum pitched her backwards. She flipped over the railing, but somehow managed to grab on with one arm. Her drink fell to the ground, while her shrieks filled the air.
My jaw dropped at the sight and I stood there frozen. I glanced around to find Quinn. Her facial expression mirrored my own and her gaze was locked on the scene unfolding. Uncle Bernard dropped what he was doing and started running across the backyard toward his dangling bride. I glanced at Quinn again and saw that she was headed straight for the large hole where we were to re-home the tree. I dropped the weed whacker and started yelling for her, waving my arms frantically, but she was too engrossed in watching her mom hang from the back deck like a sloth on a branch to realize what was happening. I started running for her, knowing I wasn’t going to reach her in time to be able to prevent it from happening.
For a second it looked like she might miss the hole, but the jostling of the mower on the uneven lawn sent the right front wheel of the mower over the edge of the hole. And…there she went. It felt like slow motion. I was screaming, “Noooooo”. Uncle Bernard was reaching up to help Aunt Liddy down when her grip gave way and she fell onto him, both of them then tumbling to the ground in a heap. The front of the mower slowly tipped at an angle into the large hole. Quinn realized what was happening and tried to correct the wheel, but it was too late. The mower came to rest on an angle. Luckily, it didn’t roll over onto its side. Quinn, however, had been flung forward and to the side during the accident and lay crumpled in her own heap at the bottom of the hole. I made it to the hole and jumped in, the mower engine thankfully shut off automatically without Quinn’s weight on the seat.
Quinn laid there unmoving. For a second I thought maybe she had hit her head or was unconscious.
“Are you all right?” I yelled.
I was answered with some inaudible groaning.