Ruby Blaylock
Bodies & Buried Secrets
A Rosewood Place Mystery
First published by Ruby Blaylock in 2016.
Copyright © Ruby Blaylock, 2016.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any others means without permission.
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Contents
Not Much To Look At
Help Wanted
A Good Man Is Hard To Find
Blast From The Past
Secret Discoveries
Old Houses, Old Flames, and New Problems
Cozy Family Dinner
Not A Nice Way To Start The Day
Barnbusters
Suspicious Minds
Death and Dinner
Settling In, Somewhat
Opening Old, Closed Doors
Suzy’s Fiance
Secrets in the Attic
An Arresting Development
Pieces of a Puzzle
The Past, Presented
The Cavalry’s Coming
History, Mystery, and Stormy Weather
A Fine Mess
The Truth Will Come Out
An Unexpected Visitor
Bonding In A Graveyard
A Very Bad Man
Keeping Secrets
Rosewood Place
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1
Not Much To Look At
“Is that it?” Annie Richards tried not to look disappointed at the crumbling farmhouse standing before her. She pushed her chestnut brown hair back behind her ears and struggled to find something positive to say. Her sixty-eight-year-old mother stood to her left, waiting with bated breath for Annie to see the absolute possibilities that lay before them. To Annie’s right, her sixteen-year-old son, Devon, skulked, kicking the toe of his worn out sneakers against the dry red dirt.
“Well, it’s certainly big, isn’t it?” She finally settled on praising the size of the farmhouse, thinking to herself that “big” was definitely the size of the task they were taking on. Actually, “humongous, stupendous, and ginormous” all seemed more appropriate ways to describe the task that stood before her, but for her mother and son’s sake, she sucked it up and looked for the positive.
“It’s a crap-hole.” Devon spoke for the first time that morning, having barely spoken to her since she’d told him that they’d be moving back to the tiny town of Coopersville, SC, or “Hicksville, USA,” as her New York City born-and-bred son liked to refer to her hometown. She would never have believed that she’d be moving back here, either, but then again, she wouldn’t have believed it if anyone had told her that she’d be a widow at forty.
She was still reeling from her husband’s sudden death, and still stinging over the fact that her work-addicted husband had been putting in overtime playing house with his mistress. David Richards had been a financial advisor in a modestly-sized firm on Wall Street, with a very good chance at working for a much larger firm someday. He’d worked long hours, missed countless social and school events, and had left Annie feeling lonely during the last few years of their marriage. Still, his absence was painful. She had been accustomed to being part of a couple for so long, she didn’t quite know how to be a single woman now.
David had saved himself a lot of trouble by dying from his heart attack, but he’d left Annie in a major pickle, having lied about the fact that he’d been reduced to part-time hours at work. He’d used most of their savings to furnish his getaways with the trashy blonde he’d been dating, and the life insurance policy hadn’t been quite as big as Annie remembered it being when she’d signed the paperwork all those years ago. She’d seen very quickly that staying in New York was not going to be an option, not unless she wanted to move into a very unsavory part of the city and buy herself a few handguns.
Her mother’s offer to move back home had just made good sense, but when the old woman started talking about reviving Annie’s long-forgotten dream of opening up a bed and breakfast, Annie felt the first flicker of hope that she’d had in a very long time. When she’d accounted for every penny of her savings, she realized that the dream wasn’t going to become a reality without some help, so her mother had agreed to become her partner, combining her savings with Annie’s to allow them to buy the best possible property for their money.
Looking at the run-down farmhouse, Annie realized that, although it wasn’t ideal, it did have a great deal of potential. Beneath its run-down facade, Annie could tell there was a diamond just waiting to be polished. It also had its merits, like the ten acres of former farmland that it sat on, and the picturesque pond that was fully stocked and ready for fishing. It also had a gorgeous barn that Annie could easily envision turning into a dance hall, and she could imagine families renting it out for weddings and parties. However, the farmhouse was a mess, and despite the fact that they’d been assured the property was “a steal” by her realtor, she couldn’t help but worry about how much money the renovations were going to cost.
“It’s not a crap-hole,” she replied finally. “It just needs some TLC.”
Her mother, Bessie, grinned. “I knew you’d just love it once you had a good look at it. Oh, and you wait until you see the kitchen! I’m gonna be cooking up all kinds of goodness in that kitchen, you wait and see.” They wandered up the front steps, stepping over the broken one and avoiding the loosest boards on the wraparound porch. Bessie went straight through the front door, ignoring the clouds of dust that appeared as she opened the door and flapped her arms in excitement. “Oh, Annie, I can just see so much potential!”
Annie loved seeing her mother so happy, and her positivity was contagious. For a few moments Annie let herself imagine the way the old plantation farmhouse could look with some serious elbow grease and a lot of love. “Oh, alright, I’ll call Debbie and give her permission to increase our bid.”
Debbie Schipper was Annie’s realtor and a woman who didn’t like to disappoint her clients. She’d admitted to Annie that one other buyer had expressed an interest in the farm, but Debbie had some doubts about how serious that buyer was. Still, she’d suggested that Annie be ready for a bidding war, and Annie suddenly didn’t want to let go of this property. In her mind, this was the bright and shiny future that she and Devon deserved, and it was an opportunity to rebuild her somewhat fractured relationship with her mother.
Annie had left Coopersville as soon as she’d married David, much to the disappointment of her parents. She’d flown back a few times a year at first, then less often as her little family grew. When Annie’s father, Robert, died, she and Devon came home for the funeral, but the then-ten-year-old Devon had barely known his grandfather. Despite Annie’s promises to her mother that she would visit more often, it simply never happened, until her own husband’s death forced her to face the reality that her mother and son were all the family she had left. Her decision to move back home felt right, and the prospect of opening up a bed and breakfast had kept her hope alive these past few months. Now, as she relayed her instructions to Debbie, she dared to dream about the wonderful challenge she was about to undertake.
After her phone call to the realtor, Annie and her mother surveyed the rest of the large main house. It
had six bedrooms, which was perfect. It meant that she, Bessie, and Devon would each get their own room and they could rent the other three out. There was a large sitting room just to the right of the front entrance of the house, and an adorable little area beside the staircase that would be perfect for stashing coats, umbrellas, and visitor information for local attractions.
The kitchen was to the left of this area, and her mother hadn’t exaggerated. It was a big, old-fashioned kitchen with lots of counter-space and a walk-in pantry. A door at the back of the kitchen led outside to the rear of the house, and another interior door led to the basement. “Oh, I wouldn’t go down there, Devon,” Bessie called out, stopping the boy from opening the basement door.
“Why? Is is haunted?”
“No, but the electricity’s not on yet, and if you fall down those old stairs in the dark, I don’t think your mama and I could get you back up,” Bessie smiled at her grandson affectionately. “Why don’t we go check out the creek and the old barn? I’ll bet there’s lots to explore out there.”
Annie frowned. “I wonder how long it will take to get the utilities on?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Bessie grinned. “I’ve already talked to Charley Thompkins over at the electric company. He said he could get here any time, just give him a call. And the water,” she leaned over the deep kitchen sink and turned on the tap, “is already on. Not sure why, but we’ll just take it as a sign,” she said, her eyes twinkling.
Annie began worrying that if they didn’t get this property her mother would be devastated. The worry gnawed at her insides as they exited the old house and made their way around the back to the tiny trickle of a creek that ran along the back side of the property. The three of them stood and stared at the small stream for a few moments.
“Kinda lame, for a creek.” Devon was still unimpressed with the tour, and Annie doubted he’d ever be happy with any aspect of his new situation. So far, he’d not only hated every single property they’d viewed, but he’d also been deliberately rude to most of the sellers, and Annie had been mortified each and every time.
This particular property had been owned by someone who never even lived in it, and who had died without any next of kin to claim it, so it now belonged to the county. Her first impression upon hearing about it was that it was a very sad thing for a house to be neglected in such a way, especially one as old and full of character as this one. Now that she’d had a firsthand look at the place, she felt even more strongly that it was broken and neglected, which was not unlike the way that she had been feeling for a very long time. Devon may not have been ready for this big change in their lives, but Annie certainly was. This house needed a family, and her family needed a place to heal and begin a new life together. After seeing this particular property, Annie knew that she wouldn’t let her son sway her decision to buy.
“There’s probably a dam around here,” Bessie offered, brushing off the boy’s pessimism. They were like two sides to the same coin, Annie noted. Bessie was brimming with positivity and enthusiasm, while Devon was on a constant simmer, a permanent frown on his pubescent face. Annie was just beginning to doubt her own sanity for putting herself in the middle of these two when Devon spoke again.
“Hey, did you hear that?”
“Hear what, sweetie?”
He cocked his head to one side, straining to hear the sound again. “It sounds like an animal. I think it’s coming from the barn.” He started for the barn before either of the two women could reply. They followed him to the red building with a crooked front door and listened again for signs of life inside.
Devon tried to open the large sliding door, but it was off its track and wouldn’t budge. “There has to be another way in,” he said aloud to no one in particular. Annie and Bessie watched in silence as he surveyed the exterior of the building until he found a section where two boards had come loose. Prying them aside, he started to enter the dilapidated barn, but his mother stopped him.
“What if there’s a snake in there?”
He paused for a moment, pulled out his cell phone, and switched on its flashlight. “Mom, it’s cool. I’ll be fine.” Annie held her breath as he disappeared into the darkness of the building. A few seconds later, she could hear him swearing under his breath.
“Don’t you be taking the lord’s name in vain, young man!” Bessie called out to him into the darkness, and she was greeted with a brief apology. Moments later, the boy emerged triumphant with a tiny bundle of fur covered in cobwebs and hay.
“Can we keep it?” The bundle stretched and clawed in panic, but Devon held it closer and soothed it, despite its pitiful meows. It was an orange kitten, filthy and very thin, but adorable just the same. “Mom, can we? You never let me have a pet back home, and if you expect me to live in this crappy town, at least give me something to care about here.”
Annie winced at his words, then softened. They’d never had pets in New York because David had been allergic to cats and dogs weren’t really practical in their small apartment. Neither of those things was an issue anymore, so she really couldn’t see a reason to deny the boy a pet. Before she could reply, her phone rang, making the kitten jerk and hiss. As her son comforted the feral kitten, she put the phone to her ear.
She listened for a moment, then nodded. “Oh, okay. I mean, thank you. Yes, we’re here now. Are you sure? Oh, my goodness--yes. Yes, we are. Thank you, I can come by whenever you need me to sign.” She continued the brief call, stepping away from her family while she repeated figures and dates. Annie nodded her head as she spoke, trying to make sure she understood what the caller was saying to her. Finally, she said goodbye and ended the call.
Bessie and Devon stared at her for a few seconds, waiting for an explanation. After a long moment of tense silence, she spoke. “That was Debbie, my realtor,” she explained slowly. “The house is ours if we want it.”
“What?” Bessie thought perhaps she hadn’t heard her daughter correctly. “Surely she couldn’t have an answer for you that quickly.”
Annie shook her head in disbelief. “Apparently the county clerk in charge of this property wants to leave early and they haven’t heard a peep from the other buyer in a week, so she’s moving to draw up closing papers ASAP.”
“But what does that mean?” Bessie’s voice wobbled, verging on a whine.
“It means exactly what I said. This place is as good as ours, if we want it.”
Reality froze the trio in place, and it was Devon who responded first. “Can I keep the cat?”
Annie nodded, a grin spreading across her face.
“Woo-hoo!” Bessie exclaimed suddenly, frightening the kitten once again. “Welcome home, little furball!” She rubbed the kitten’s head gently, then began dancing around in a crooked circle.
The reality of the moment hit Annie like a punch to the gut. This was it. This was the beginning of a brand new chapter in her life, and once she turned this first page, there was no going back. “Welcome home, guys! Welcome to our new home!”
2
Help Wanted
Annie had rented a storage trailer for her and Devon’s belongings when they’d left New York City. It was packed with memories and memorabilia from her nearly two decades spent in the northern state, and she was looking forward to unpacking it at her new home. First, there was the not-so-small matter of organizing a contractor to come out and look at the new place. For some reason, Bessie seemed to place a huge amount of urgency on the matter, and when Annie finally confronted her mother about the woman’s insistence on getting someone out to the farm immediately, the old woman’s response shocked her.
“We have to be out of this house by the end of the week,” Bessie admitted, a nervous grin spreading across her face. “I’ve sold this house so we could afford to tackle all the repairs on the new one,” she explained, pulling a box out of her closet. “So, I’ve been packing things up as we’ve been looking at properties, and I had a buyer all lined up. I figure the more money w
e have to get the renovations done, the faster we can get the business up and running.”
Annie wasn’t sure she agreed with her mother’s logic. “The end of the week is in two days! There’s not even any electricity out at the new place yet...what were you thinking, mother?”
Bessie waved her daughter’s question away. “Pssh...I told you, I can have the electricity on in a day. I’ve got connections,” she winked and began putting the contents of her bedside table into the box.
Annie suddenly felt worried. What if the new business didn’t succeed? Her mother had mentioned the possibility of selling her home later if the bed and breakfast became a success. But now, whatever happened, Annie would be responsible for keeping a roof over all of their heads.
The first businesses that she called were recommendations from Debbie. “Either one of these will do you just fine,” the realtor had reassured her, but according to each of the business’ secretaries, they were booked solid for weeks, tackling storm repair work from the tornado that had passed through the area the month before. The third contractor she called had sounded a little too eager, and very young. When she pressed him about his experience, he admitted that he really didn’t have any, apart from helping out around his parents’ house. He’d just graduated from high school, too, so Annie politely informed him that she’d call again once she was sure of what she needed. She didn’t inform him that what she needed was someone with actual experience remodeling and repairing old homes, but she hoped he got the hint.
“What about Rory Jenkins? He’s a fine contractor.” Bessie’s question seemed innocent enough, but Annie knew exactly how loaded it really was. Rory had been Annie’s first boyfriend, and he was a nice enough guy, definitely skilled with a hammer and nails, but he was also an ex-con.
Bodies & Buried Secrets: A Rosewood Place Mystery (Rosewood Place Mysteries Book 1) Page 1