“Weird how these things seem to happen in a series of three, isn't it?” As if hit by a delayed reaction, Wade dashed away and threw up into a bush.
Even as Tony wondered who might be number three, he nodded and called Doc Nash's number. Silersville's doctor and also Park County's coroner, Doc answered on the second ring. He promised to be right over and was as good as his word.
When the doctor arrived, he virtually ignored Tony and greeted Wade like a long lost friend, slapping him on the back and not giving the deputy any grief about his usual reaction to a dead body. Instead, he appeared in good spirits, humming a little tune under his breath as he walked up the sidewalk. Not Doc Nash's usual style at all. Tony was instantly suspicious. What was the man planning?
“Where's our body?” Doc's attitude teetered on the edge of jovial.
Tony led the way into Weevil Beasley's house, going through the side door into the kitchen. A glance at the pile of empty egg cartons stacked inside proved Blossom's assessment of the man's eating habits. The kitchen was clean and orderly.
Doc Nash's attitude underwent an immediate change. He went to the body and briefly examined it.
Tony noticed the message light blinking on the man's telephone answering machine. When he pressed play, a raspy male voice said, “I hope you're dead.”
The doctor's eyebrows flew up. “I'm guessing I'll need to check a few more things, given the tone of his recent message, but I think everything is natural. The old guy probably just expired in his sleep.”
“Until we know for sure, I'm treating this like a crime scene.” Tony sent Wade for his camera and studied the dead man and his living room. Mr. Beasley looked like the tidiest corpse he'd even seen. His thick gray hair was neatly combed. His slacks and button down shirt looked freshly ironed. No cups or papers littered the room. Most importantly, no suicide note sat on the desk in the corner.
Tony put on latex gloves but used the little bottle opener hanging on his key chain to pull the desk drawer open. In case there were fingerprints on the drawer handles he didn't want to smudge them, but he wasn't wasting the time and man hours needed to fingerprint everything unless there was cause.
The pencil drawer was empty except for three pens and a roll of tape. The larger drawer held a hanging file system but no file folders. There were no bills or bank statements; nor was there a checkbook, will or any correspondence. If, as rumor held, he indulged in off-the-record loans, there was no evidence of it.
Wade led the way through the house, his camera shutter clicking.
On the nightstand next to the bed was a wallet. Tony opened it and found forty-eight dollars in cash, a few credit cards and the business card for attorney Carl Lee Cashdollar. “I trust he has a copy of the man's will.”
In the bathroom, Tony opened the medicine chest. A toothbrush and toothpaste, a hairbrush and eye drops but no pill bottles.
Tony went back to the doctor. “He's eighty-something and didn't need to take any pills?”
“Of course he did.” The doctor frowned. “He needed several just for his heart.”
“Where do you suppose the trash is?” Tony backtracked to the kitchen. Sure enough, several empty pill bottles were on the top layer. Tony fished each one out with a table knife from a drawer, dropping each onto the counter.
The doctor studied them. “He just refilled these yesterday.”
“And did he take enough to die from it?”
Doc Nash shook his head. “I don't know. I'll run a test during the autopsy. He's been depressed since his wife died.”
“So, why have Blossom bring him eggs if he wasn't planning to eat them?” Tony didn't expect an answer. “Does he have relatives in the area?”
“His wife does, did I guess, since she's passed on now, it's did.” Wade looked over the top of his camera. “Her brothers are Angus and Davy Farquhar.”
“Now there's a stellar family tree. No wonder she never wanted them to visit her in the hospital.” Doc Nash pulled himself upright. “She told me her brother Davy's in the penitentiary and his three sons, the ‘darlin’ boys' are headed that way and Angus isn't any better.”
Tony was shocked. “Sweet Aileen Beasley was a Farquhar?” Tony remembered her as a genuine lady librarian. Her nephews were definitely working their way up the ladder of crimes.
“Yep.” Doc Nash bobbed his head. “And was ashamed of them all.”
The ambulance crew arrived, and Tony stepped back to let them take Mr. Beasley's body. “Too many questions, not enough answers.” He looked at Wade. “Let's place seals on the doors until we know more about the cause and manner of his death.”
CHAPTER TWO
Tony stopped by his house to pick up Theo and take her to her quilt shop. Not only was she no longer able to reach both the steering wheel and the pedals in her minivan, but it rarely started on command. The post office truck was just pulling away from the curb, so he collected the mail and walked up the walk.
The fog had lifted and now it was a perfect autumn day, sunny and cool. Sunlight reflected off the surface of the creek beyond the house. The skateboard was nowhere to be seen.
When he got into the house, he found Theo in the kitchen, humming and wiping the counter. She gave him a brilliant smile and took the mail from him.
Theo lifted a bright pink envelope from the top of the stack and tore open the flap. “It looks like we've been invited to another wedding. We've got a solid two weeks of weddings and birthdays.”
“Whose now?” Tony filled a mug with coffee, emptying the morning's carafe. “We've already got Mike marrying Ruby, and Celeste marrying Patrick, both next week. I half expect Wade to disappear some day and return with a wife.”
“Wait.” Theo sat down, her fingers inside the envelope. “Go back to the part about Wade. He's getting married? To whom?”
“I don't know anything for sure, but he's acting very odd: long phone calls, trips out of town on his days off.”
“And you know this because?” Theo pulled a stiff card out of the pink envelope.
“Because we have so few deputies, I have to know when someone is not going to be available for emergency call out.”
“Okay, so what else is Wade doing?”
“He and Doc Nash talk a lot, and our overworked doctor has turned almost jovial, and I don't know how or why but I think it's all connected to a female.” Tony reached for the abandoned envelope. “I can't read the return address.”
“It's from Katti.” Theo stared at the card inscribed with bright pink ink. “Claude Marmot and Katti are announcing they got married last week. This is an invitation for a party. A reception.” She continued to stare at the card. “At the dump.”
“No way.” Only a month had passed since the Russian girl arrived to meet her American fiancé for the first time. Tony had seen her only from a distance and thought she was cute. He'd wondered what she thought of a trash hauler whose yard and house were filled with salvaged items. If she married Claude, Tony assumed all was fine.
“Okay, it's at their house. Same difference.” She looked into Tony's eyes. Hers were sparkling with delight. “My quilting group better finish the wedding quilt this weekend.”
Remembering Claude Marmot's one request when he had Tony relay a message to Theo and the quilters, Tony said, “Did you ladies find a way to make a pink quilt that doesn't look pink?”
“We're mixing in a lot of brown fabrics, but I'll bet it will still look pink.”
At Theo's quilt shop, Tony went inside to help move her out of her second floor studio/office. The stairs had become too difficult for her, and she'd made a stack of things she would need. Theo watched her husband stare at the pile of boxes and plastic bags at his feet. A sewing machine sat to one side. Suddenly unsure of her selection, she said, “I hope this is all I need to move downstairs.”
“I can always come back or you can get Gretchen to help. She's nearly as strong as I am.” He frowned, studied her appearance. “Why don't you go over to the dress sh
op and buy a few maternity things to wear. You look like a plaid elephant wearing my old shirt.” He frowned at Theo, making deep furrows in his bald scalp. “I can carry this stuff downstairs from your workshop to the classroom without your supervision.”
Theo felt stung by her husband's cranky attitude; after all, she was trying to save money. “I won't need them in a couple of months. It's just a waste of money.”
The creases in his face deepened. He narrowed his eyes and glared. “I don't think I can spend two more days, much less months watching you steal shirts from my closet. I half expect to see you in one of my uniform shirts waddling down the sidewalk.”
“I do not waddle.”
“You do. You have to. You can't help it.” Suddenly Tony appeared relieved and laughed. “I think you're afraid.”
Theo did not laugh. She was. There was a tiny part of her saying, “If you buy maternity clothes, you'll lose the babies.” It was nonsense. She could feel them healthy, strong and growing more viable every day. Twins doing acrobatics in her belly. “You're right.”
Her confession earned her a big hug and a kiss. “Now, go get yourself something pretty. You're starting to dress worse than Nellie Pearl Prigmore.”
Not responding to his observation about her trailing the worst dressed woman in Park County, Theo gestured down her body like a show room model. “Maybe something in a nice blue tarp with fancy silver grommets. You could lace me into it with stretchy cords like furniture on a car roof.”
“Nuh-uh, someone might steal you thinking they're getting six sleeping bags.” His eyes twinkled. “We could use a new tent though. Maybe you could pick up something up at the camping/fishing store in a lovely camouflage. That way, when you're done wearing it, you could sew a patch over the hole you cut out for your head.”
Feeling much better, Theo cautiously worked her way down the stairs, using the handrail. She hadn't seen her feet, much less the steps, in weeks. Once on the main floor of her quilt shop, she picked up speed. While not generally concerned by fashion, she was tired of stealing her oversized husband's clothes. A couple of maternity outfits would be a welcome change. Maybe she'd get a dress to wear to the various weddings set for the next two weeks and a few tops to wear to work. Now that she'd decided to buy some clothes, she couldn't wait.
Almost directly across the street from her shop was Lila's Clothing for Ladies. The owner, Lila Ware, was in her late thirties like Theo. She had grown up in Silersville, gone to school with Theo, married and moved away. About five years ago, she'd ditched the husband, returned to her home town, bought the shop, and settled back into to small town life. Moderate prices and impeccable taste kept her customers happy.
The end of tourist traffic made crossing the street a simple task, even at a slow pace. The tiny bell over the door rang when Theo went inside, but Lila didn't seem to be there. That wasn't unusual. Lila only had help in the busy months. So Theo glanced around, knowing Lila would appear soon. The store was divided into sections. One was makeup and accessories like purses and scarves. One was geared for the teenage shopper. One for older shoppers. Maternity was near the back door. Closest to the front door was a rack of souvenir T-shirts and gift items.
Theo began sorting through the items on the maternity rack.She grimaced. She might be ready to buy a few new things, but not a T-shirt with an arrow pointing to her belly and Baby written in sparkly big letters.
Theo heard the back door of the store open and close. She was preparing to call out to Lila when she heard Lila talking to someone else and stopped in mid-breath, eavesdropping without meaning to.
“I won't put up with it any more.” Lila's voice was muffled but distinct.
Theo thought it sounded like her friend was crying.
“I'll get a divorce.” A man's deep rumbling voice. “I promise.”
“When? You've said that before.”
“I know, my love, I know.” He cleared his throat. “I swear it won't be much longer.” He laughed, making a harsh sound, like a sea lion barking. “Soon, we'll be free of her and all her wretched family and life will be beautiful. I'll be able to marry you.”
Not wanting to be caught listening, Theo started tiptoeing toward the front door when she heard the back door open and Lila and her beau exited, leaving her alone in the store. The conversation she'd overheard was none of her business, but, she admitted, it was intriguing anyway. She couldn't guess who the man might be. She hadn't seen him at all, although there was something familiar about the voice. When she ran through her mental list of men Lila might love, she found none to fill the gap.
Theo turned back to the clothes, pulled out a crisp green dress with vertical dark and light green stripes. Moving in front of the mirror, she held it up to see how it might look on her. Ghastly.
Lila came through the front door surprising Theo. She paused to look at Theo and started to laugh. “I don't think so, Theo, honey. It would make you look like a watermelon wearing glasses and a fuzzy yellow hat.”
“It was the first thing I saw in my size.” Theo returned the dress to the rack silently agreeing with Lila's comment. “Tony says I need new clothes.”
“Tony's right.” Lila studied her. “The stretchy pants are okay but otherwise you're a mess.”
“Can you help?” Theo didn't mention her friend's red and watery eyes.
“Yes.” Lila reached around Theo and plucked a sleeveless blue dress from its hanger. “Try this. You can wear any kind of shirt under it, like a jumper, or you can wear it without a shirt and make it look dressier by adding a scarf or some costume jewelry.”
“Any kind of shirt?” Theo touched it. The fabric felt good. Not stiff and not sleazy.
“No.” Lila tugged on the sleeve of Tony's plaid shirt. “Not any of your husband's clothes.” She handed Theo a couple of maternity tops she approved of. “Try these.”
With Lila's help, Theo managed to get them on. She was surprised by how much better she felt in her new clothes. She wore one of the new tops when she went back to her shop. It was comfortable and flattering.
Tony looked up from the array of things he'd carried from his wife's studio to the classroom just in time to see Theo coming back into the shop carrying a shopping bag and wearing a new top. Very nice. And she was smiling. Very nice indeed.
“You look beautiful.”
Theo stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Thank you.”
“I suppose I'll have to carry all this”—he waved to encompass the sewing machine and bags—“to your quilt retreat.”
“Nope.” Theo eased onto a chair. “Remember, I'm taking handwork. I'll be quilting one of the baby quilts and learning Armenian embroidery.”
“Learning?”
Theo massaged her lower back. “Our guest teacher, Scarlet LaFleur, is the sister of the first mother of the groom.”
“Excuse me? What?” Tony pasted on the expression he used when he pretended to have been paying attention and got caught. “Which groom?”
“Given the number of weddings this month, that's a fair question.” Theo laughed. “Patrick. Scarlet is Patrick's birth mother's sister. You know Elf.”
“The singer?”
“Yes, our very own famous country singer with the huge house out near the Cashdollar mansion, another in Nashville and, I hear, a fabulous beach house in Malibu.”
“Okay,” Tony nodded. “Yes, I know Elf.” Tony was still considered a new arrival in Park County. He wasn't born there and only lived there ten years before he left. Returning as an adult left gaps in his knowledge of local events. He both hated Theo's little history lessons and found them fascinating. “What about Elf?”
“Well her sister is the former Christmas Poinsettia Flowers, now known as Scarlet LaFleur. She is a world renowned expert in Armenian embroidery techniques. She had her name changed.”
“I guess.” Tony pushed her hands off her back and began massaging it for her. “It makes her sound like a stripper. She's not one of Blossom's sisters?”
<
br /> “Nope. Blossom's father is Aut, you know, short for Autumn. She's their first cousin.”
Tony frowned, trying to sort out the various members of the extensive family. “So who's Elf? Really?”
“Easter Lily Flowers.” Theo snorted indelicately. “Her father is Summer Flowers.”
“You're making this up.” Tony's hands stopped moving. “That's not a real name.”
“No. Yes. I'm trying to explain.” Theo pointed to a spot on her back needing a bit more of Tony's care. “Elf uses her initials for a name. And she's tiny and pretty and looks like a woodland fairy, so the name fits. Anyway, she was maybe fourteen when she gave birth to Patrick and let the MacLeod family adopt him. It's always been a very open relationship.”
Tony considered Patrick. The nice young man was not only a new teacher at the elementary school, but also the new high school football coach. His was one of the upcoming weddings they planned to attend. “And Aunt Christmas Poinsettia, now Scarlet?”
“Always a whiny pain in the neck.”
“Patrick's father?”
“A tightly kept secret. As far as I know, Elf has never disclosed his identity.”
Tony's cell phone rang, startling them both. He listened for a moment, muttered a response, then disconnected. He headed for the door, waving farewell.
Someone had called his office and suggested the culprit driving around the county shooting signs, whether public or a private business, was the trash hauler, Claude Marmot. The problem began a couple of weeks earlier with some bullet holes in the yellow “Curve Ahead” sign out past the new folk museum. The problem had escalated hourly.
Tony actually suspected the caller more than Marmot-the-Varmint, because the caller claimed a .22 caliber rifle was involved. Tony considered so much detail in an anonymous call to be somewhat suspicious. It wouldn't hurt to ask. If nothing else, maybe Claude had an idea who might want him to take the blame. Plus, Claude's route took him all over the county.He might have seen something.
Tony collected Wade and took him along.
Barbara Graham - Quilted 03 - Murder by Music Page 2