by Marja McGraw
If he said he remembered spitting in the dirt, then I had to think he might be embellishing his story, at least a little. It was such a small detail.
“Bonnie asked me to take a look behind the house, in the trees. She said she was doggone sure someone was watching her. I remember she was rubbin’ her arms, like as though she was cold.
“I looked, but I didn’t find no one. She thanked me and told me what a gentleman I was before goin’ back inside and locking her door. Does that help?”
“So you never saw anyone out back?” I asked.
“Nope, but I did find some cigarette butts on the ground. I knew Bonnie didn’t smoke so I suspicioned someone might have been there.”
“Did you have any idea who it could have been?” Felicity asked.
“No. I started eyeballing the men in town to see who smoked. I never paid attention until then, but half the men in town smoked, or at least it seemed that way.”
I wrote smoker on my pad, for all the good that would do. “One last question. I’m having trouble finding any records of the murder investigation. Do you remember anything that the Marshal or the Sheriff did? Does anything stand out in your mind?”
“Let me think on that.” He stood and began slowly pacing, or shuffling, around his living room.
I hoped we weren’t upsetting him. His age alone gave him enough to contend with, and I didn’t want to add stress to his life.
“The Sheriff came and talked to me, ‘cause I was the one who found Bonnie. He asked lots of questions, but I didn’t have any answers – except to say we heard her scream, and I thought I’d heard the back door slam shut. I remember the Marshal telling the Sheriff that I was just a kid, and I wouldn’t know anything anyway.” His expression became one of disgust. “I thought that was rude, but since I was a kid, I couldn’t say much.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
“They asked questions all over town, but most people didn’t actually know Bonnie. They’d seen her, but that was all. They were happy just to have a famous lady living here.”
I ate another cracker just because Brad had tried so hard to be helpful.
I wondered briefly if Harvey Driscoll had been a smoker. “Did you mention the cigarette butts you’d found to the Sheriff?”
“Yes, but he didn’t seem to care. After all, I was just a kid who didn’t know nothin’.”
Chapter Twenty-five
“Do you happen to know if Harvey Driscoll smoked?” I asked.
Brad chuckled. “I see where you’re goin’ with this, but I don’t recall.”
He scrunched up his face and for a moment I was afraid he was having a stroke or heart attack. I soon realized he was just thinking back.
“I wouldn’t swear to this, but it seems to me that Harvey smoked a pipe. I don’t recall seeing him with no fags.”
Felicity raised her eyebrows. “What are fags?”
“That’s what we used to call cigarettes,” Brad explained.
“Ah.”
Glancing at my watch, I saw it was about time for us to leave and meet the boys for lunch.
“Is there anything else you can remember about Bonnie or her house that might help us?” I asked.
He spoke slowly, dragging the words out. “Well, there is one other little oddity. I remember Charlie riding his horse past Bonnie’s house from time to time. Melvin and me noticed it because Charlie had a car and because it seemed he always reined in the horse just afore he reached the house. He’d kinda sit and stare. That stuck in my craw, but I couldn’t tell you why.”
“Is he still around here?” Felicity asked.
“Oh, no, he passed on mebbe twenty years or so ago. I do recall, now that I think about it… He was a smoker. I remember him sitting astride that horse and puffing his heart out. Like he was nervous or somethin’. He had a car, like I said, and I never could figure out why he chose a horse instead of driving out there.”
“What was Charlie’s last name?” I needed more information.
“I can’t rightly remember it, off the top of my head. Let me think on it. If you’ll write down your phone number for me, I’ll call you if I come up with a name.”
He picked up a pad of paper from the end table and passed it to me.
I wrote down my number under a grocery list he’d started. I also took note that his writing didn’t match the writing on the paper that had been left on my windshield. I didn’t think it would, of course, but it still put my mind at ease about him. I handed the pad back to him. Oh, for heaven sake! The man was ninety-eight years old. He wouldn’t be leaving notes on my windshield. Sometimes my mind was too suspicious.
“Thank you, Brad. You’ve been a big help. Unfortunately, we have to leave to meet our husbands in town.”
“You bring those husbands by here sometime. I’d like to see who the lucky fellows are.” He grinned at us.
“We’ll try to get back,” Felicity said.
We each gave him a hug and left for our lunch dates.
~ * ~
“I love that old man,” Felicity said.
“Me, too. I can picture him making it past a hundred, can’t you?”
“I can. He seems awfully alert for someone his age, and he’s still living on his own.”
We pulled up to the Old Town Battle Grounds Coffee & Deli and parked as close as we could. It looked like it might be crowded.
Pete and Stanley were sitting at a table outside. I looked forward to eating alfresco.
“We already ordered your drinks and lunch.” Stanley appeared to be quite proud of himself. “We know what your tastes are.”
Right on cue, a woman walked outside with our lunch. Our husbands had done well and ordered each of us a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich. It was one of the best I’d ever had. It was the bacon that made the difference. Very flavorful.
Something struck me while we ate. “Pete, don’t you think the other people at the B&B will be suspicious if they see holes dug along the paths? Especially Gloria and Phil.”
He swallowed before answering. “It’s all good. Stan and I filled in the holes and Sam covered them with pine needles and leaves. No one will ever know the ground has been disturbed.”
“Good thinking. We learned a few things from Brad, by the way. He’s really a nice old guy. You’d like him. In fact, he’d like to meet you before we leave.”
While we ate I told him what Brad had remembered.
Pete contemplated the stories while Stanley went inside and brought out double chocolate chip cookies for dessert.
Great! My chocolate fix for the day.
“Give me some input,” I said, watching Pete for a reaction to the stories.
“From what Brad told you, Driscoll and Charlie sound the most suspicious.” He thought about it for a long moment. “This might sound odd, but somehow the Marshal’s reaction to questioning Brad seems suspicious, too. You’d think he’d have asked a lot more questions and not written him off so easily. Of course, in those days he probably didn’t have a clue about how to handle a murder investigation.”
“My thoughts exactly,” I said. “Brad said he’d call me if he could think of Charlie’s last name.”
Stanley had been listening intently. “I find it quite odd that the horse rider would simply sit and stare at the house. Something doesn’t seem right about that. If he had a car, why didn’t he drive to Bonnie’s house? Do you see where I’m going with this?”
“I think so,” Pete said.
I turned and studied Stanley’s face. “The only thing that makes sense to me is that the car would have made too much noise. Right?”
“Yes, indeed. A horse might have snuffled, or whatever they call the sound a horse makes, but it wouldn’t have backfired or rattled on what was probably a dirt road back then.”
Felicity took hold of her husband’s hand. “Why, Stan, that’s brilliant.”
His chest puffed out and he sat up straighter. “Remember, I work as a private detective, s
ugar lump. I’ve learned to put two and two together.” He was quite proud of himself.
“Now if we can just figure out who Charlie was. And why did someone leave a note on your car and push you down?” Pete had a point.
“Frankly,” I said, “at this point I have more questions than answers to deal with, and I don’t like that.”
“I don’t agree, honey. You have a lot more information now than you did a couple of days ago. We’re learning who some of the players were and we’ll figure this out.”
“You know,” I said, “you seemed to think there might be a connection between the money we’ve found and Bonnie’s murder. At first I figured there was no way, but now I’m beginning to wonder. I don’t know how we might connect the two crimes, though.”
“We don’t have much time left. We’re either going to have to figure this out or give it up.” Felicity made sense. “Bea has spent her life here. Maybe she’ll remember someone name Charlie who died about twenty years ago. Or maybe we can find the obits for the time period.”
“It would be difficult to leave without having an answer,” I said. “As far as the obituaries, we don’t know for certain what year Charlie died. Unless Brad can come up with a surname, we probably won’t figure it out.”
Stanley leaned forward. “I’ll give you credit for your tenacity, Sandi. If anyone can solve this, it’s you.”
I ate a second cookie and then we headed back to the B&B.
Bea was in the kitchen with Bob. He was repairing a leak under the sink.
I asked if I could get myself a glass of iced tea.
“Of course, you can. Don’t even ask.”
The doorbell rang and Bea left Bob and me alone.
I watched him while I poured my tea. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you.”
I noticed his hand was shaking and he saw me watching his hands.
“Sorry, but I get a little nervous when someone watches me work. I’m afraid they’ll start offering advice.” He sounded more than a little cranky.
“I’d feel the same way.” I took my iced tea and walked toward the front porch to join the others.
Bea was showing another couple up to their rooms. “Sandi, these are the Ruggles. They’re just here for the weekend.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I think you’ll love it here. I do.”
The couple was middle-aged and nodded in my direction. She had curly dark blonde hair and his was gray and styled. They were both medium height and build. That’s about all I noticed before they were up the stairs.
“Where are my manners?” I asked, joining my husband and friends. “Would any of you like something to drink?”
“I think we’re fine,” Felicity replied. “We were just talking about what Charlie might have been up to, but there’s no way to know. Unless he had a crush on Bonnie, or something like that.”
“You never know. Maybe he was jealous of Martin Cook and took it out on Bonnie.” I kind of warmed to the idea. “Yeah, that could be it. Maybe this was a crime of passion.”
“Anger can cause reactions you’d never expect,” Pete said. “It’s possible that Charlie tried to come on to Bonnie since Martin was gone, and she turned him down.”
It was a good scenario, but for some reason it didn’t ring true. I often felt going with your gut feeling was the way to go, but evidence can prove you completely wrong.
A car pulled in and Pete groaned. “Uh oh. Here come Phil and Gloria.”
Gloria climbed out of the car and slammed the door before she stomped up the porch steps and confronted Pete.
“There was nothing to be found at the lake except a sunburn.” She pointed at her red face. “I think you pulled a fast one on us.”
Phil stood behind her and simply shook his head.
Chapter Twenty-six
Pete lied through his teeth. “No, no. I found something there. I’m sorry you didn’t. Maybe next time you go you’ll find something, too.”
Gloria gave him a squinty-eyed look of disbelief before turning to go inside, out of the sun.
Sun? It had clouded over and a cool breeze was coming up.
Sam and Sasha walked over to us but seemed to have second thoughts about interrupting. However, as soon as Gloria and Phil were gone, they both started talking at the same time.
Sam looked like he was ready to burst. “You’re not going to believe what we found.”
“I thought you were done digging,” Pete said.
Sasha’s eyes had a look I couldn’t identify. “He decided to do one more search. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“What’s going on?” They had my interest.
Sam looked around as though to be sure no one else was listening.
“Did you find more gold?” Stanley’s curiosity had the best of him, too.
“No! We found a body!”
“Excuse me?” I thought I must have heard him wrong. “A body?”
Sam nodded. “I decided to do a little more exploring, and the metal detector pinged. Not big time, like with the gold, but there was something there. We started digging and found a hand.” He shook his head. “And then we found a whole body.”
“Well, a skeleton, anyway. I’m going to call the police.” Sasha excused herself.
Sam watched her walk away before he spoke. “It looks like it’s been there a long time.”
“What made the detector ping?” Pete asked.
“Maybe we should have waited for the police, but we kept digging. The person held a ring of keys in their hand. I think it’s a woman because there was a woman’s wedding ring on her finger, too. And an old-fashioned necklace.”
Pete started to walk away. “Show me.”
We all followed, quietly talking amongst ourselves.
Looking into the hole Sam had dug, we could see that yes, it was a skeleton and probably that of a woman. The body seemed small and the jewelry was that of a woman. I noticed, in particular, that the hand bones seemed quite small.
It wasn’t too long until we heard sirens screaming toward the B&B.
We hurried back to the porch and waited.
Bea walked around the side of the house. “What’s going on? Those sirens sound pretty close.”
Just as she said that, three police cars roared onto the property.
“Bea,” one of the officers said, “we had a call that there’s a body buried on your property.”
She shrugged her shoulders and looked nervous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joe.”
Sam held up his hand. “Follow me.”
Sasha walked with them.
The wind picked up a little and the clouds were turning dark.
We started to follow, but Pete held us back. “Let the officer do his job.”
Stanley took a step forward. “But Pete – “
“No. Stay here.”
Phil joined us. “What’s going on?”
That seemed to be the question of the hour.
Pete explained that a body had been found, but rushed to tell him that it appeared to have been buried long ago.
It was about that time when Gloria ran out of the house in a dither. “What’s going on? I just heard crying in the house.”
I turned to look at her and she appeared confused and maybe a little frightened, and breathless.
“It could have been one of the other guests,” Bea said.
“No. There’s no one else in the house right now. The crying sounded like it was coming from all around me. And it was heart-wrenching, probably the saddest, softest crying I’ve ever heard. I swear!”
Felicity and I looked at each other before turning to go inside. We needed to hear what Gloria had heard before she started yelling, “Ghost!”
We heard nothing at first, and then there it was. Soft and, yes, all around us. It sounded heartbreaking, just as Gloria described.
“What on earth?” Felicity looked as confused as Gloria ha
d.
“Probably the wind,” I said. “You know, blowing through the eaves, or windows, or something. Let’s go back outside. I see the cop coming up the path with Sam and Sasha.” I didn’t want to stick around and listen to the crying.
I heard Sam talking to the cop. “Do you really think it could be Sally Harper? That legend has been around for years, but no one ever believed it.”
The cop, Joe, was nodding. “Yes, I think it could be her. Who else could it be? It’s obviously been there for a very long time. A forensics team is coming in from Clark County Major Crimes. We’ll see what they have to say.”
Bea’s eyes lit up. “Sally Harper? No one ever believed that story. Everyone thought she ran off. Really? She might be here? Of course, the story has been embellished over the years. Anything to make it a better tale.”
The cop stood with us. “You folks are from outta town, right? So you wouldn’t know what we’re talking about.”
I nodded.
Pete introduced himself and asked, “What’s the story?”
Joe spread his feet apart and folded his arms across his chest.
I laughed to myself when I noticed that Sam, Pete, Stanley and Phil stood in the same pose. Men!
Bea stepped forward. “Let me tell it, Joe.”
“Sure. But first…” He directed another cop to spread a tarp over the body. Rain was probable. “And be sure to anchor the tarp. The wind is picking up.”
Bea related the story to us. “Tim Harper had ridden into Vancouver to deliver a load of milk. He arrived home after dark, and there wasn’t a light on in the house, which was unusual. He looked everywhere for his wife and couldn’t find her. She’d started peeling potatoes, but that seems to be as far as she got. That’s it. No one ever saw hide nor hair of her again.
“She was a pretty little thing and some of the women were jealous of her. One old bat started a rumor that she’d run off with a salesman. Tim knew better and bugged the Marshal to death about finding her, but nothing ever turned up. There have been variations of the story, but that’s the gist of it.”
“When did this happen?” I asked.