Hop 'Til You Drop

by J. M. Griffin

  “Yes, indeed. Pretty darned cool, Bun. Anything else up there?”

  “Not that I could find. How about you? I noticed you dug through the tall grass.”

  “I found a silver button that looks new. I’ll add this necklace to my stash.”

  He bounded from the incline and landed at my feet. When people refer to fleet-footed animals, Bun fits that bill. I tucked the piece of jewelry in with the button.

  “Let’s check the boat dock next. Imagine that, the cops overlooked this stuff? Maybe they overlooked evidence at the landing, too.”

  “We are super-sleuths, Jules. There’s no doubt in my mind.”

  Thrilled by what we’d found, we went to the dock and scoured every inch of it, then we searched under it and studied the ground before shifting grains of sand for more evidence. The landing showed nothing, either. Deflated by this lack of success, we started our jaunt back to Mom’s bicycle and began our trip to the farm.

  A police car pulled up next to us as I pedaled home. Adam slowed to my speed and put the window down. “Out for your daily exercise? Where did you get the bike? It looks like it’s from the sixties.”

  I grinned, as did Adam. “My father gave it to my mother for her birthday in 1966. She told me it was the perfect bicycle she’d been looking for. I found it in my shed behind the house. I never go in there but decided to take a look to see if it could be used for storage. Imagine my surprise when I found it.”

  “I can tell you’re excited about it. What were you doing at the lake?”

  “Our usual—just hanging out by the water and walking the beach. It’s nice there, don’t you think?”

  He inclined his head in agreement. “You’re right.” As his radio went off, he waved and sped off.

  I breathed a sigh of relief that we hadn’t been questioned longer. Adam could often tell when I lied or sidestepped, and I tried not to push my luck with him.

  I emptied my pocket of our finds when we reached the house. The button was dry, but crusted with dirt. I soaked it with dish detergent and warm water while Bun inspected the medallion suspended from the chain. I looked it over and while there was a bit of dirt on the front, it didn’t matter. The back of the medallion was engraved, and needed cleaning.

  I turned it over again to study the design on the front. An intricate braid pattern wound through itself. I used the laptop to go online in search of Irish and Scottish weaving. Scrolling through picture after picture, I realized the hunt could take much longer than I’d imagined. I put the necklace aside and rinsed the button. Running the medallion under hot water, I gently rubbed it clean and laid it on a towel to dry.

  When Jessica came into the kitchen, I almost jumped out of my skin. Intent on the evidence, I hadn’t heard a sound, nor had Bun.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I didn’t hear you coming. Bun and I went to the lake and did a search of the crime scene. The sheriff’s crew found nothing—at least that’s what he said. In my opinion, they didn’t look very hard, because we found two items.”

  “We?”

  “Well, me, but I always include Bun.”

  “Oh. Can I see them?”

  I pointed to the kitchen counter, where the two pieces lay on the towel. Jess picked up the medallion and peered at the design. “Have you any idea of this pattern’s origin?”

  “I did a Google search for British Isle designs. After scrolling through several pages of them, I quit.”

  “Molly might know. She’s got lots of patterns she offers to weavers. Eve McPherson is also a person you might ask if Molly can’t identify it. Eve has some beautiful woven rugs and chair throws similar to this.” She handed the medallion to me.

  “Thanks, I also considered asking at the library.”

  “Good idea, but try Molly and Eve first. They could point you in the right direction. Let’s face it, the fewer people who know you have this necklace, the better. Did you find the pieces close to where Frank’s body was?”

  “Yeah, not too far away. I figure the button might have been loose and fallen off during the struggle of hauling his body to that spot. The medallion . . . well, I have no idea where it came from but was probably around someone’s neck when the clasp broke.” I held it up for her to see.

  “Hmm, it might have been on Frank’s neck. I don’t know his nationality, but most of us Americans have diluted backgrounds anyway. It could have been a family heirloom, or could be a good many other things, like something someone had bought at a yard sale.”

  “Let’s not get carried away before you have a chance to look at what’s written on the back of it.” I flipped it over to show her the inscription.

  “It’s in a foreign language, like the road signs you see in Scotland that are in English and Gaelic.”

  It made sense, the design and the language fit together like pieces of a puzzle. With a yippee, I hugged Jess. “Of course.”

  Neart Agus Urram Clan was engraved on the medallion and had only one word I understood. The word was clan, which meant closely-knit and interrelated families, such as those in Scotland. What the rest meant was anyone’s guess. Another part of the puzzle worth looking into. Even if it didn’t pertain to the students themselves, it could reveal who the person was that dragged Frank to the lodge grounds and left him there.

  We inspected the button again. Similar to the medallion, it held a tiny woven design on the surface. “I’ll ask Molly as soon as she arrives. She has college classes until noon today. Jack was here early this morning. Luckily, I’d finished the chores and showered before he arrived. We talked about the investigation. Like us, he has more on his hands than he can deal with. Leads are nice, but it takes time to follow them up. How heavy is your workload today?”

  “Not too bad. Why?”

  “I’ll put a chicken in the Crock-Pot, and we can eat dinner while discussing the program for the marketing class. I want us ready to engage these students.”

  Jess nodded. “Me, too. I went over what you emailed me last night and then took an hour or so to write out my thoughts. I followed your presentation. I hope you don’t mind. You kept it so positive and fun, I couldn’t resist.”

  “I’m glad we’re doing this lecture. I’m sure we’ll have lots of questions directed toward the issues of being a business owner—you know, the ones that aren’t fun to deal with.”

  “You must mean cleaning the rabbit poop.”

  We both laughed as Jessica went to greet her patient and his owner.

  With Molly in class, I handled the order that arrived. Surprised it was here so fast, I mentioned it to the delivery driver.

  “We’re a twenty-four business now. The boss wants to make sure you’re happy with us since you order so much. She got out of bed early to pack this and put it on the truck.”

  “Tell her that I appreciate it.” I studied the man for a moment. He seemed young, but not too young. I took a chance and asked him a question.

  “Do you work full-time for the company?”

  “Only a few hours a day. I attend college and try to get as many hours in as I can, but it doesn’t always happen. I study a lot and work in the warehouse mostly. Why?”

  “I hadn’t seen you before today, but then, Molly usually handles stock that arrives.”

  He looked as if he wanted to say more, but hesitated.

  “Is there anything else?” I asked.

  “Uh, you found Frank Poland, right? And Ms. Meeny, too, huh?”

  I nodded.

  “You must have the worst luck ever.”

  “Sometimes, it seems so. Why do you ask?”

  “Frank and I were good friends. It’s too bad what happened. He was a decent kind of guy, unlike others in his group of friends.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, who exactly are you talking about?”

  He stared at the floor and then said, “I really shouldn’t say.”

  “It will be between us, and I’m simply curious. I had the chance to meet some of his fellow students
at the egg hunt event.”

  “Rob Brayton isn’t a bad sort, he’s honest, too. Brandt, on the other hand, seems like a real nasty person who thinks she’s better than most. Maggie is nice and so is Erin. I don’t know why they hang out with Felicia.”

  “How did you meet Frank? He was genuinely nice when we worked the egg hunt together.”

  “He and I shared a room at the beginning of the first semester, then we changed rooms and split up. We remained friends even though I’m not rich like the others are.” He checked the time and left in a hurry.

  “That turned out to be productive. Good work, Jules.”

  I glanced around and whispered, “It adds to the perspective I had on Frank. He was genuine and a decent man. Where have you been?”

  “Making the rounds and talking with my friends. Willy wants to go outside, as do some of the others.”

  I walked alongside him into the barn.

  Chapter 14

  Sorting through the shop order, I inventoried it. Some of the hanks of wool roving were larger than others. A few colors were drab, unlike those we usually ordered. I assumed one of the students had requested them for a special project. Meredith came to mind.

  Molly and Jason came through the door at the same time. I left them to their respective jobs and went into the kitchen to start the Crock-Pot meal for supper.

  Carrots, chicken, potatoes, onions, and spices went into the pot. I added a bit of water and turned the temperature to high. While dinner cooked, Bun and I took a ride to Walmart in the next town over.

  “Am I allowed in the store?”

  “I don’t see why not. If anyone asks, I’ll say you’re my comfort animal.”

  “Do people get away with that?”

  “Uh-huh, they do. Once a woman took her pig onto a plane and insisted it was her comfort animal. She got away with it, too. Besides, I’ve seen people with all types of pets in stores around town. The most popular ones, though, are dogs.”

  “There are those specially trained ones for needy people.”

  “Those particular dogs have to wear a jacket that designates them.”

  We left the car in the enormous parking lot in front of the store. With Bun in the sling, we went inside like nobody’s business. All went well until we reached the register to pay for the artificial flowers we’d chosen for the bicycle. I put the goods on the conveyor and adjusted the sling. Bun huddled inside after he’d gotten a glimpse of his former owner, Margery Shaw, and was scared witless, though I assured him not to let fear control him.

  The man behind the register gave me a rotten look and asked, “Madam, what’s inside your sling?”

  “Nothing that belongs to you,” I said. Okay, so I should have admitted my comfort animal was in the sling, but after the look I’d gotten, I refused to say.

  A buzzer went off somewhere. An older man rushed at me. “Hang on, Bun,” I murmured.

  “Okay.”

  “What do you have in that contraption you’re wearing?”

  Unfazed by his manner, I asked, “And you would be?”

  He puffed out his chest and hooked his thumb into his security belt. The badge on his uniform shirt listed his name as Homer Ruffian. Why I found it humorous, I couldn’t say, but all of a sudden I found myself giggling.

  The security guard stared in surprise and then rolled his eyes at the cashier.

  Holding back my mirth, I said, “My name is Juliette Bridge. I live at Fur Bridge Farm in Windermere. I haven’t stolen anything from your store.”

  The line behind me had grown and the guard motioned me forward. I paid for what was in the bags. I walked a few steps behind Homer toward what I assumed was his office. When he opened the door, it appeared to be a broom closet. That’s when I heard the cashier mumble about shoplifters.

  I stopped dead in my tracks.

  “Jules, don’t respond . . . ”

  “Excuse me? What did you say?”

  “I said that you’re a shoplifter. Furthermore, if you are who you say and live on that farm, you should have enough money to pay for all your goods.”

  I reached inside the sling, hauled Bun halfway out, and said, “This is my comfort animal. Now apologize for slandering me.”

  “I most certainly will not. You should have identified your pet when I asked.”

  I stepped close to the register. “You aren’t a security guard, nor are you much of a cashier. I don’t have to identify anything for you. I know the law.” I tucked Bun back into the sling. He poked his head out and watched everyone.

  The guard, who’d thought I was right on his heels, returned in a hurry, but not fast enough. The store manager arrived and greeted me like an old friend, as he should have. I had done birthday parties for three of his kids. Edward Wickersham was six-foot-six with skin as dark as mahogany and a laugh that rumbled from deep within his body. A nicer man I couldn’t imagine.

  “Mr. Wickersham, it’s so nice to see you.”

  Wickersham raised an eyebrow at the cashier and asked, “What’s going on?”

  “She refused to tell me what was in her sling. I automatically assumed she had pilfered from the store.”

  “Why not notify me and security instead of making a scene? Miss Bridge wouldn’t steal anything. I’ve known her for some time and she’s a friend of my family, too.”

  Without waiting for the clerk to answer, Wickersham looked at me. “Come with me, Juliette. I’ll handle this.” As we walked away, I thumbed my nose at the cashier. Childish, I know, but better than punching him in the nose, though less satisfying.

  He summoned the guard and entered the manager’s office, which wasn’t large either. Geesh, the store was enormous, you’d think the manager would have a decent sized office.

  “I suppose that is Bun in your sling. I know he goes everywhere with you. My kids adore him.”

  “He does travel with me and I enjoy having him along. I know how much your kids love my rabbits, especially Bun. How are they doing? Your kids, I mean.”

  His rich, deep laughter eased my tension.

  “They’re growing like weeds. They were at that egg hunt thing in Windermere. Were you there? My sister took them.”

  “We worked there for the day. It was an awesome event.”

  “Great. Now, give me those bags so I can have your money refunded. Then you can take the purchase home with you.”

  “Oh, no, don’t go to that trouble, please don’t. I bought these to decorate an old bicycle that Bun and I ride. I do all the pedaling and he does all the riding.”

  A smile spread across his face as he brushed my plea aside. He handed Homer the bag with instructions to make the refund and return with the flowers and money.

  While awaiting Homer’s return from the service desk, I engaged Edward in conversation. It wasn’t long before Homer returned and Bun and I left, never to be seen at that store again.

  “That was quite a hullabaloo if you don’t mind my saying so. We could have been arrested, you know. I don’t think I’d look particularly good in striped garments.”

  “We won’t ever be returning there again. It was just closer to the farm than the one in Windermere.”

  I let Bun loose in the car, removed the sling, and drove out of the parking lot.

  “The cashier was rude to accuse you of theft. I wonder if he’ll be fired or will get a good talking to by Mr. Wickersham. He is such a nice fellow and large, too.”

  “Edward is a kindhearted person. All that cashier had to do was apologize. I didn’t ask for a miracle, although, maybe it would have been one.” I started to giggle and turned into the driveway.

  When we walked through the barn, I realized Jason had done his assigned chores and was gone. In the shop, we stopped to help prepare for the students, who, according to Molly’s schedule, would show up in about fifteen minutes—leaving enough time to show her what Bun and I found. We rushed through the remaining preparations, and I beckoned her into the house.

  Explaining what we found
near the lodge, I admitted I had no idea what the engraved words meant, and then I produced the necklace. “Do you know about the origins of these intricate designs?” I asked.

  She lifted the medallion into the sunlight. “It appears Scottish. The weave is similar to ones from a book I have in the shop. Amy Briner wove a table runner using a similar design. It’s quite lovely.”

  “Do you know what the words mean?”

  “Not a clue, I’m afraid. There’s a professor at the college who might be able to help. His hobby is antiquities and stuff like this. I could show him these before class tomorrow.”

  “I’d rather not let the pieces out of my sight. They were near Frank Poland’s body and I think they’re connected to the crime.”

  As if it scorched her skin, Molly dropped the necklace and rubbed her hand on her slacks.

  “It won’t hurt you. I don’t believe it has Druid connotations. It would be nice to know if the person who dropped Frank at the lodge was wearing it, or if Frank was. I’m sorry, I should have mentioned where I got it.”

  A tad uncomfortable, Molly waved my apology away. “No worries, I overreacted. I’ll look it up in my book and mark the page for you to see.”

  Using her smartphone, Molly snapped photos of the front and back of the medallion and the button’s surface. “I’ll show them to the professor without explaining where they came from. Let’s hope he doesn’t ask.”

  Worried that I would put her in a tight spot, I reluctantly agreed. I don’t think I could have stopped her, even if I’d insisted. As if she knew what I was thinking, Molly said, “Don’t worry, I can handle this.”

  I nodded and heard cars arrive. “It seems your students are here. Get going, I’ll check in later. Oh, uh, I’d like to see Amy’s table runner if she doesn’t mind. The students appear to be working hard, and we could display their work at an open-studio kind of thing. You and I did discuss that some time ago, but things got crazy and we never followed through. Would they be open to that? They could even sell or take orders if they chose to. I know they pay a good sum for classes, and nothing is more satisfying than having somebody interested enough in your work to pay the asking price.”