“Why don’t you put those menus away? I’ll be right back with just what you need to take your mind off all your troubles, family or community.” Piper hurried off and returned just a moment later, placing an overflowing vintage dessert bowl, the cut glass ones with the feet, in front of each of us.
“What is it?” I asked, lifting a spoon in anticipation.
“Chocolate cherry lava cups.” Piper nodded and smiled. “Nothing like chocolate and cherries and cake to fix what ails you. Let me know what you think” She headed toward the door as a new set of customers entered the Stack. I stuck my spoon down through the gooey layers of chocolaty goodness. Lifting it to my mouth I spotted cherry preserves, hot fudge, and chunks of chocolate cake. Divine. Even Celadon seemed to be simmering down. Maybe she would be lulled into a sugar stupor and forget.
“This is incredible.” Celadon forgot herself enough to dribble fudge sauce down her chin. “Piper is an amazing cook. Maybe we should just stay here.”
“How would we get away with that? Everyone will see us in here and report back to the family.”
“Maybe we could get Mitch to arrest us. I’m sure you could do something that upsets him enough to get us thrown in jail for a few days.”
“I don’t think that will work anymore. At least not as long as he is still dating Phoebe.” Mitch was a local cop and my former boyfriend. He had been ruthlessly harassing me for the last few months. That is until he started dating Phoebe Jones and his obsession with me began to cause friction in their relationship. I hadn’t gotten so much as a parking ticket or jaywalking fine in weeks.
“Knowlton would help us, wouldn’t he?” Celadon asked, dabbing at the chocolate on her chin with a paper napkin, her hand shaking.
“Even Hazel and Jade combined don’t make me that desperate.”
“We could bribe Doc MacIntyre to say we both had come down with something that requires us to be quarantined. Then we could skip town until Hazel leaves.”
“You don’t mean Yahtzee.”
“It’s the only way. We’d have to agree to be his Yahtzee slaves until he died.” The local doctor was a great all-around guy. He was an old-fashioned country doctor who birthed babies and eased the suffering of the very elderly. He even still made house calls. But you didn’t want to be without an excuse to avoid playing Yahtzee with him. The guy had made the Guinness Book of Records for the longest continual game of Yahtzee ever played. All he had to do was hear the slightest rattle in your lungs during an exam and he couldn’t focus on his job until he told you all about his latest game. People had been known to pay their doctor bills in Yahtzee pads. It should have been funny but it was sort of terrifying instead.
“I don’t think we will get away with it. Not unless we are actually incapacitated. You know Grandma would insist on taking care of us herself.” A shadow fell over the table and we both jumped. I looked up to see my godfather, Lowell, towering over us, his uniform freshly pressed and his gun sitting snugly in its holster just about at my eye level.
“And who is helping to take care of your grandmother? You know how hard on her Hazel’s visits always are.” Celadon and I both slid low in our benches, the guilt of leaving Grandma on her own to deal with Hazel making us hang our heads in shame. “I know just as soon as you two finish up your food you’ll do the right thing and head on home. Even if it takes a police escort to get you to do it.”
Lowell was just about the easiest-going guy I had ever met but he took all his duties seriously. That included policing the community as well as serving as a surrogate son to my grandparents ever since my father died several years ago. There was no way we could put off our responsibilities with him around to remind us of them.
Two
We bumped on down the driveway. Celadon had come back to her senses enough to want to be the one behind the wheel. She didn’t slow a bit as she wheeled into the dirt track leading up to Greener Pastures. The time of year was perfect to begin sugaring. The fluctuating day and nighttime temperatures made the sap in the maple trees begin to flow and harvesting it became possible. It had a less useful effect on the driveway. Every day a crop of fresh ruts appeared on the driveway where thawing made mud appear. Tires moving up and down throughout the day made gouges which froze in solid and inconvenient lumps by late afternoon.
As soon as the sun began to dip below the rise, blobs of mud churned up through the course of the day froze into jagged peaks like a miniature mountain range in the driveway making it treacherous to navigate all evening and into the early morning hours. Celadon didn’t even appear to notice as she dove up and down their peaks and valleys and even skimmed across the tops of several.
Celadon bolted from the van and headed for a little-used side door in an effort to avoid Hazel for as long as possible. I would have followed her example except for the fact I spotted Graham’s state-issued truck in the yard. I had met the good-looking conservation officer back in November when he had been in Sugar Grove on business for the Fish and Game Department. Over the last few months we had gone on a number of dates and were starting to feel like a couple. My heart gave a little thump and a squishy lurch and the urge to see him outweighed the desire to avoid Hazel.
I stepped into the hall and listened for voices. Not surprisingly the sounds of chatting drifted toward me from the kitchen. Bracing myself for possible Hazel impact I followed the sounds. I paused out of sight just beyond the door to listen for Graham’s voice. There was no way I was going in there with Hazel if he was not there, too.
“So, big feller, you look like quite the strapping young buck. Too bad it’s not rutting season. I could teach you a thing or two, I expect.” Hazel had a penchant for men, mostly the younger variety. If I didn’t interfere she would drag him to her room and truss him to a bedpost before he knew what had happened to him. There was no time to waste lurking about in the hall. I gathered up my courage and stepped into the kitchen.
“Aunt Hazel, what a surprise,” I said, crossing the room to give her an expected peck on the cheek. She wore her usual getup of a menswear-inspired pantsuit and a fedora. She looked like something out of a hard-boiled detective novel, right down to the tumbler of whiskey clutched in her hand. Graham looked more like a bug caught in a jar. If a bug could have a pleading look in its eyes.
“Well, it shouldn’t be. I always arrive in time for maple festival. Not the brightest star in the night sky, is she, Graham?” That was Hazel, in a nutshell. She made it impossible to like her. Responding only makes things worse. It was always best to just move on and pretend you didn’t hear. I turned my attention to Graham, willing him to understand just by the way I wiggled my eyebrows that he didn’t need to answer. Apparently he doesn’t speak eyebrow.
“I can’t agree with you there, ma’am. Dani’s got enough sparkle in her to light up my life.” I couldn’t believe it. That guy was just adorable. And about to be eaten alive by a rabid octogenarian.
“Is that right? And you looked like someone with high standards. Now if you wanted to pair off with one of the girls in this family you ought to hold out for my granddaughter Jade. She’s learned everything she knows about men from me.” Hazel downed a swig of her whiskey. Interactions with Hazel were never improved by her being a bit lit. It just made her speak more boldly. Which is to say it was a bit like stretching a giraffe’s neck. I tried wresting control of the conversation.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you today, Graham. What brings you by?”
“I was up this way on a call which took less time than I’d have expected. I wondered if you’d like to go to lunch with me?”
“Good thinking, young man. A body could starve around here. I mean, just look at Dani. No meat on her bones and stunted to boot. Where are you taking us?” Hazel swallowed another gulp of whiskey and winked at Graham, who took a step backward and braced his hand against the counter behind him.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but
I’ve brought my state-issued truck. With all the equipment I have to carry there is really only room for myself and one passenger.”
“I’m starved. Let’s leave right now.” Just as I grabbed his arm my cell phone rang. I didn’t want to answer but I couldn’t seem to let myself ignore it. You know how some people can’t stop reading a book they hate because they feel like they have to finish every one they start? I feel that same sort of compulsion about a ringing phone. It has to be answered.
It was Russ Collins. I reminded myself to use a polite voice when answering. There was nothing to say that Russ was calling just to get out of working. I took a couple of deep, cleansing breaths then pressed the answer button.
“Dani, I’ve had to stop working.” Russ sounded like he was taking a few deep breaths himself. Which was something I had never heard him do before.
“Let me guess, you broke the handle to the shovel and need to stop work to go buy a new one? No worries, I was just heading out so I’ll bring one to you.”
“I don’t need a new shovel but I do need you to get over here ASAP.”
“Russ, I’m just about to go to lunch. Unless you give me a crazy-good reason for quitting I suggest you wait until I finish my meal.”
“I can’t tell you on the phone. You wouldn’t believe me. If you’re not here in under half an hour you’ll be hearing about this on the news and I’ll be suing you.”
“Suing me? For what?”
“Undisclosed hazardous working conditions. Or something like that. Loden would know what I could bring for charges.”
“Loden isn’t going to help you figure out how to sue his own family.” At least I didn’t think he would. He gets along with all of us better than anyone else does. But he does love a good legal puzzle. I decided it was better not to find out if his loyalties would withstand his flirtation with the law. Besides, I was sort of curious as to what Russ would consider hazardous. Spiders maybe. Or a lack of sunlight in the basement that could lead to a vitamin D deficiency perhaps.
“I’ll be over just as soon as I can get there.” I disconnected and turned to Graham. “I’m so sorry. Russ Collins has hit some sort of snag at the opera house. Can I have a rain check?”
“Of course. It was a long shot anyway since I know how busy you must be at this time of year.” He reached out and gave my hand a squeeze. I hurried out of the room and was halfway down the hall when I heard Hazel pipe up again.
“Well, young man, it looks like you’ve found room in your truck for me after all. I’ll just fetch my coat.”
* * *
Over the few years of our acquaintance I had many times wished I had never had to interact with Russ Collins. I certainly had never wanted to drop operations at Greener Pastures during the busy season to get to the bottom of why he wasn’t doing what he was paid to be doing. I regretted more than ever agreeing to hire him for the work Greener Pastures was helping to subsidize on the opera house restoration.
For the past several years the good people of Sugar Grove had been hosting and supporting fund-raisers to restore the opera house to its former glory. Just last month the committee had run Meat Bingo, one of the most popular fund-raisers in town, to try to bulk up the coffers. Finally, an anonymous donor, also known as my grandparents, had come up with sufficient funds to get the first part of the renovations under way.
An early February cold snap had frozen and burst a few pipes in the ancient heating system and Grampa felt if we waited any longer for the money to trickle in through the usual fund-raising routes the opera house would rot off before summer. He told my grandmother he wanted to sit in the balcony and neck with her in the dark once more before they both died and he didn’t see that happening without a little help.
Which meant the restoration committee, composed of my grandparents, my sister, Celadon, Doc MacIntyre, the fire chief, Cliff Thompson, and yours truly got on the stick and hired Russ to begin the grunt work in the basement for a new heating system. Russ wasn’t really skilled at much except coming up with excuses for not working, but skilled labor wasn’t what we needed.
The old coal room in the basement still had some leftover coal in it that needed clearing out to make room for the high-efficiency unit we were installing for the whole building. The town hall would get the benefit of the upgrade as well and the whole town would enjoy decreased heating costs in their tax bills while simultaneously restoring heat to the subzero opera house.
Why I had to be the only Greene in the house when Russ called to say he had run into a problem I couldn’t imagine. Sure, I was the only one whose stomach was growling only a couple hours after breakfast. I wondered if I had angered Mother Nature during the winter and she was making sure I wasn’t going to get my hands on any maple goodness.
I tried to put Russ off but he was insistent that I drop everything and head straight over to the town hall basement. He sounded all worked up, which, knowing Russ, really was troubling. Since Russ was the only person I’d ever met who sat down to play boccie this seemed extreme.
I grumbled all the way into town. The roads were pocked with potholes and snowmelt flowed across them like the ocean waves of an incoming tide. My MG Midget was just back from its most recent emergency trip to the auto body shop and I was in no hurry to bottom it out in a rut bigger than an inground pool.
Winter in New Hampshire can be a lot of fun but the roads are generally not for the faint of heart or the low of chassis. I should have taken the farm truck or the minivan but I had missed my little car so much while it was being repaired I hated not to drive it. I always felt like I was cheating on it when I went out with any other cars.
Fortunately, parking in Sugar Grove is never a problem anytime except during maple festival weekend and I found a spot right in front of the town hall. I hustled into the building and raced for the stairs to the basement.
“Russ, where are you?” I called out. The light level in the cellar was about what you’d expect from a space with bare bulbs hanging every ten feet or so. The electrical system could use some work, too, from the looks of things. I heard some shuffling at the back where the coal storage had been so I headed in that direction.
“Back here, Dani. Did you bring a flashlight?” I pulled up short at the entrance to the coal room.
“Nope. You said hurry so I left with nothing but my car keys and a coat. I’ve got my cell phone we could use.” I scrolled through the apps and turned on the flashlight. I swooped it around over my head and into the corners. A small amount of the leftover coal we had asked Russ to clear glinted up at me from a rusty wheelbarrow. Most of the room looked like it had the last time I had been down there with Grampa telling Russ what the job would entail. I wasn’t surprised by his lack of progress but it didn’t do much for my mood.
“Shine it over there.” Russ pointed a grubby hand at the one bare patch in the pile of coal. I tilted the phone to where he directed and leaned in. And then drew back. And then leaned in again. I had been prepared to give Russ a piece of my mind for dragging me away from my work and my lunch with Graham. But I wasn’t prepared for what he found.
“Is this a joke?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” There was no doubt about it. Russ, despite a desire to never do a lick of work, had managed to dig up some pieces of what looked like a human skeleton. There it was, plain as day poking up from the dirt floor of the town hall cellar.
A long bone that looked to my untrained eye like it used to be in someone’s leg showed nearest me. The top portion of a skull sat closer to Russ. The dome of it gleamed a bit despite the low light and the coal dust. I moved closer, bent over it, and covered my hand with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. I brushed a bit more dirt away from the area and revealed more of the skull. I was no expert but if it was a fake it was a pretty convincing one.
“How did you find this?” I asked, sinking onto the floor.
�
�I was just shoveling off the coal in this one area and when I scraped against the dirt floor scooping up the last bits I must have gouged the floor. You told me to be thorough so I was trying to get every bit.”
“And then what?”
“And then I felt the shovel clunk into something more resistant to scooping than the coal. I gave it a harder shove but it didn’t seem to matter.”
“Have you called Lowell?” Lowell Matthews was the chief of police and my godfather. He was also dating my widowed mother. It was complicated but we were getting used to it.
“No.”
“Why the heck did you call me instead of the police? I’m no dead-body expert.” Although, lately it was beginning to feel like I was. In the last four months I’d seen more than my fair share of corpses.
“I figured if I called the police in they’d make me stop working on this job. You’d be aggravated at me for the delay. I wanted you to be the one to make the call so you and your grandfather couldn’t blame me for whatever happened here.” Russ sounded quarrelsome and like he had an attitude but if I looked at myself clearly I could see his point.
I might not have come right out and accused him of finding a way to get out of the work but I am certain I would have thought it. After all, that was the reputation the guy had and it was deserved. Still, it rankled to think I had a reputation of my own and it was one of being judgmental and unfair.
“You’re probably right but we had best call the police now. This looks too real to ignore.” I walked carefully back out of the cellar and up to the ground floor of the building. Most of the town offices in Sugar Grove are conveniently housed in the same place. If you want to speak to the tax collector, town clerk, or any selectperson happening to keep office hours you just need to hang around the town hall for a bit. They’ll be around eventually.
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