Silence again shrouded the group. Mark felt awkward but didn’t want to disturb the private thoughts of the three women, even by walking away. Eula took a deep breath and patted Crystal’s hand. “What happened?”
Crystal sat up. “Bill and Buddy think it was an accident. Maybe some grease caught on fire while ... .” Crystal stopped, and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “. . . while Bessie was cooking. She might have dropped the pan when the grease flared. They don’t know whether she fell and hit her head, or was overcome by smoke.”
“The Justice of the Peace declared it an accident,” Mark interjected. “The body was badly burned. At this point, they don’t really know what happened.”
Eula shook her head. “Old Billy Goat’s been thrown again.”
Mark didn’t know what was going through her mind. But from her tone and demeanor, he had the feeling that whatever it was, she was right.
“Nana, don’t start picking on Bill. You weren’t here. You don’t know what happened.”
"You’re right, Crystal. I wasn’t here and I don’t know what happened. But I know what didn’thappen. Bessie didn’t start a fire while she was cooking. Only thing Bessie’s cooked for the last few years was popcornand she nuked that.”
Crystal looked at her grandmother with disbelief. “She couldn’t live on just popcorn.”
“Pert’ near,” said Melva. “That, chocolate, granola bars, and an occasional can of Ensure.”
“I can tell you this, Mrs. Moore,” said Mark. “The fire didn’t start in the microwave or the refrigerator.”
“Call me Eula. And I been meaning to ask, who are you?”
“I’m sorry, Nana,” said Crystal. “This is Mark O’Malley, my boss.”
Eula surveyed Mark from head to toe. “O’Malley.” She furrowed her brows, tilted her head over, and just studied him. Mark shifted his weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable under the appraisal.
Finally, she smiled and asked, “Might you be Bull O’Malley?”
Crystal’s mouth fell open.
Mark grinned sheepishly. “Yes, ma'am, I just might be.”
“You know Mark?” Crystal asked in disbelief.
“I don’t reckon it’s fair to say I know him, but I’ve seen him a few times. A so-so roper, but one of the best bull riders I ever saw. Why’d you quit?”
“I went off to graduate school at MIT. It didn’t leave me much time for riding.”
“Shame. I wondered if it was that old Beutler Brothers bull that tossed you up in the air.” She laughed down deep in her throat. “I still got that picture of you and the moon.” Eula glanced around at the house and sighed. “Well, I used to.”
Crystal looked even more puzzled. “What are you two talking about?”
Mark waved his hand. “Nothing. It was a long time ago.”
“Oh, it was something, all right. Bull—never heard him called Mark back then—finishes his ride, and the bull is looking at the clown. So Mark turns and starts walking to the gate. Well, the bull forgets the clown, lowers his head, and comes after Bull, ah, Mark. He gets his horns under the seat of Bull’s pants and then flips his head up. Well, Bull goes flying.” Eula giggled. “Now, this photographer is in the ring taking a picture of the clown. He's down low, don't you see. So he turns and shoots up to get this picture of Mark.”
Eula put her hands in front of her face like she was holding a camera and demonstrated. "Makes the front page of every paper 'round here. There's Mark up in the air, with the moon in the background lookin' like it's under him.” She giggled again. “'Course you know what the headline was: ‘And the Bull jumped over the moon.'”
"Oh my gosh. Were you hurt?" Crystal asked Mark.
"My pride was crushed and I was sore for a week. But nothing broken. I was lucky. Never turned my back on a bull again."
Crystal turned to her grandmother. “Where was I?”
“If you recall, you didn’t like rodeos. Whenever your granddad and me went rodeoing, you took off for a dance or movie or something.”
“While I was in high school?”
“High school, middle school. I don’t know.”
“I hate to be a wet blanket,” said Melva. “But what do we need to do about Bessie?”
The happy mood vanished at the single word “Bessie,” and once again everyone was somber.
Eula looked at Crystal. “I’m guessing Sam was here. What’s going to be in the Gazette tomorrow?” She looked at her watch. “Too late to change it; reckon it’s printed by now.”
“It’s going to say you were killed in the fire, Nana. And your funeral’s day after tomorrow.”
Eula stared out the window without saying anything for several moments. Long shadows reached far down the hill. Already, crickets were chirping.
“Bessie’s got no next of kin to notify. And we’re her main friends. Guess we could get Sam to print up a flyer saying I’m alive and kicking, and Bessie’s the one that’s gone to meet her maker.”
“Mrs. Moore,” Mark began.
“Eula.”
“Eula, I’m really the outsider here, but may I toss out an idea for you to consider, if you don’t mind?”
“Toss away.”
“Let the paper come out as written. Let the funeral go on as planned.”
All three women stared at him with the same look of disbelief. Eula recovered first and blurted out, “Why?”
Mark hadn’t thought this through completely. Withholding the truth might cause some undesired consequences. But it would be too late to consider alternatives once they called the newspaper. He plunged in. “I feel strongly this fire was not an accident. And I agree with you one hundred percent. Someone is trying to kill you.”
Crystal and Melva gaped in silence. Eula's eyebrows shot up and her eyes blinked several times. "Well. 'Bout time somebody else sees the obvious.” She looked at Crystal. “Just cause I’m old don’t mean I can’t tell when someone’s trying to kill me.” She turned to Mark. “Young man, you toss ideas a heckova lot better’n you did ropes.”
Chapter 15
THIRTY minutes later, the four had a plan. Crystal called Bill Glothe and asked him to come out. Glothe said he was short-handed; could they handle this on the telephone? Crystal insisted he come.
When the sheriff arrived, Eula headed for a back room. “Crystal, you need to break the news. If I just pop out, old Billy Goat might have a heart attack or something.”
Crystal told Glothe it was probably Bessie Longson who died in the fire and for a moment, Bill just looked puzzled. “Nana’s alive, Bill.”
The sheriff flinched and his jaw dropped. He found his voice and asked where she was.
“I’m right here, Bill, and I’m fine,” Eula said as she walked into the room. She went over and wrapped her arms around Glothe. Crystal had to smile. These two acted tough as rawhide, but in fact were tender as slow cooked barbeque.
After a few minutes the three women went to Eula’s bedroom to see what clothes they could salvage. Mark and Bill stood in the kitchen. Glothe took his hat off and wiped his forehead on his shirtsleeve. “So, why couldn’t a dropped pan of burning grease have done that?”
“I’m not an arson investigator. And I hope you can get one out here as soon as possible. But, three things struck me about the burn pattern. First, look at the alligator effect here. That’s the kind of pattern you get when an accelerant is used on wood. See how it looks all wrinkled, like alligator skin?”
Glothe put his hat back on, pursed his lips and shook his head. “How do you know that?”
“Grew up next door to a fireman. Second, if the accelerant were grease from a pan, it would be more localized and more circular. See the deeper burns here, almost in a straight line? Not much to the sides.
“The third thing, and most important, I believe, it appears to be heaviest away from the stove and gets thinner toward the stove.” He pointed to the area he was describing. “If she picked up the skillet ... . He demonstrated.
“... heading for the sink and dropped the pan, it would seem to me that the most concentration would be nearer the stove. These show deeper burning away from the stove and it gets thinner toward the stove.”
“She didn’t cook, boys.” Eula walked into the room. “Figure all you want. Bessie didn’t start the fire.”
“Now, Eula, you know I got to check facts and not just opinions.” Glothe sounded like he was apologizing to her.
“And the fact is, Bessie didn’t cook. That’s the only fact you got. Burn patterns and accelerants is guessing. But I’ll just get my glass of water and leave y’all to it.”
Glothe ignored Eula’s remark. “State Fire Marshall has an office in Tyler. They’ll send someone out if we request it.”
“You haven’t asked for my opinion,” Mark said. “But that hasn’t stopped me from giving it. I think you ought to put in a request today.”
Bill nodded.
“What did the JP say about how she died?”
Eula muttered “Humph” as she left the room.
“Willa said she died in the fire. Burned.” Glothe pressed his lips together. “I did ask Doc Simms to have a look. He’s a pathologist over at the hospital. He’d be the first to tell you he ain’t no forensic man. But he says she was likely dead before she got burned. Skull was cracked. Probably from hitting the counter when she fell. It’s got—well, it had—a pretty sharp edge.”
“I think Eula’s right. Bessie didn’t start the fire. Could you get a forensic pathologist to look at the body? Do an autopsy?”
Glothe cracked the knuckles of his left hand. “We do that sometimes. Pretty good guy in Tyler, Doc Haas. Course, usually Willa suggests it and calls him.”
Mark didn’t say anything.
“Guess I could get Doc Simms to call. Maybe make him think it was his idea.”
“Good. How about not letting it out that Eula is alive?”
“That’s a bigger stump.” The sheriff shook his head and drew his mouth into a straight line. “Sam’s printed a story that she’s dead. And all the people at the funeral—they oughta know.”
Mark knew Bill was right. Nonetheless, he took a deep breath and waded in. “You told Sam what you believed was the truth. And he can’t print anything different for a week. In fact, what a great headline for next week’s Gazette: Eula lives!” He tried smiling, but Bill was looking deadly serious. Mark’s smile faded. “I don’t know what to say about the people at the funeral. Just act as if Eula hadn’t come back from her camping trip until after the funeral.”
Mark could see that Glothe was still unconvinced. “The most important thing is to keep Eula safe. If she’s right, and I believe she is, the guy has tried three times. And, he killed someone he thought was Eula.” He looked away, then refocused on Glothe’s eyes, holding their gaze for several moments before continuing. “If he knows Eula’s alive, he’ll try again. And he’s getting closer, more deadly, every time.”
Mark had made his case. Glothe had to decide what to do. Mark heard a noise and turned to see Crystal passing the door. He hoped she had not heard his last statement.
#
After Sheriff Glothe left, Mark wandered out onto the deck, partly to get away from the disheartening smell of burnt wood, and partly to let the beauty of The Park blot out the senseless destruction inside. Five minutes later, Crystal came out the door, her demeanor much improved. “We’re going over to Melva’s for the night, Mark. I think I’d like to stay for a day or two. Why don’t you go on back to Dallas and prepare for the VC.”
“I could use some time in the office,” Mark agreed.
“Check on the data loading for the IPPI. They know what to do, but there is one tricky spot you might check on.” Crystal outlined the potential trouble area, what should be looked for and how to handle it. “I’ve talked about it with Carol and Donald, so they’ll probably be Okay. But if you have time, I’d feel better if you looked in on them. I should be back on Friday to oversee the testing.”
#
Crystal felt drained, but happy. With the venture capitalists coming in ten days, she should be worrying about her project. She wasn’t. Her relief at finding Nana alive and well brought into focus what she had known all along, but had been forgetting: family was more important than job.
She turned and started back in the house. The burned kitchen brought Mark’s words screaming back in her mind. “If he knows Eula’s alive, he’ll try again. And he’s getting closer, more deadly every time.”
Chapter 16
THE funeral took place at the Wooden Nickel Baptist Church. With considerable misgivings, Glothe had agreed to let the funeral go on as if Eula had been the victim in the fire. Her safety, he rationalized, warranted bending the rules.
“Hope I don’t get disbarred over this,” he told Eula. Crystal refrained from mentioning that he wasn’t a lawyer.
Crystal and Melva attended the funeral together, the grieving granddaughter and the best friend. A sad and depressed appearance came naturally for Crystal; she understood the killer would try again as soon as he found out Eula was alive.
A lady from the church spoke first. Melva, the logical choice, had begged off, saying she was so emotionally wrought she wouldn't even try to speak at the funeral. Travis Logger, Eula’s lawyer, gave the eulogy.
Eula had been unhappy when she heard he was speaking. “He’s just going to be trying for more customers, if I know Travis. ’Course, he’ll have to say some nice stuff about me, and he’ll probably say it better than most. Can’t get new clients by bad-mouthing someone at her own funeral.”
Crystal decided Eula had been right. Logger's choice of words could not be faulted, but his manner and delivery made him sound like a politician running for reelection. He looked the part, too. Most of the men were dressed in conservative black or gray suits. Logger wore a powder blue, three-piece suit with a power-red tie and highly polished wing-tip shoes. What caught Crystal’s eye, though, was a heavy gold watch chain. She couldn’t remember when she’d last seen someone with a watch chain draped across his vest.
Sam Teeter spoke at the graveside. For ten minutes he talked of the woman he had known for fifty years. Half the town had come to the funeral, and few eyes remained dry. Sam’s soft eloquence revealed feelings so deep that Crystal found herself wiping her eyes more than once. Sam ended by saying, “Eula Moore was as tough as a two-dollar steak, and as soft as a mother’s kiss. Those who didn’t love her were those who didn’t know her.”
#
Crystal had firmly refused to have any sort of a visitation, and told no one she was staying with Melva. After the funeral, Bill Glothe drove them to Melva’s house, where Eula was hiding.
“Well, how was my funeral?” asked Eula, as soon as the three got in the door.
“It was beautiful, Nana, particularly since you aren’t dead.”
"Too sad," said Melva. "Needed more music. And food."
Eula chuckled. “Well, since it was really Bessie’s funeral, it’s appropriate that nobody cooked.”
“Sounds like Travis is planning to run for office soon,” said Glothe.
"That man talks so much I don't see how he breathes. What did Sam have to say about me?"
“Let me put it this way, Nana. I knew you were alive and healthy, and Sam’s eulogy still brought tears to my eyes.”
“And everybody else’s,” added Glothe.
“Bill, did you see anybody suspicious? Or any strangers?” Melva asked.
The sheriff reached up and scratched his large, right ear. “Nope. And I scoped the crowd pretty good.”
“Course not. They believe I’m dead and what’s a closed coffin gonna tell ‘em? They’ve already been back to The Park, messing around.”
Everybody stared at Eula.
“What are you saying, Nana?”
“I’m saying I went out there to look around during the funeral. Figured nobody’d see me."
Glothe shook his head. "Thought we agreed you'd stay out of sight, E
ula. Some curious folks might have been out there, and seen you."
"Anybody interested enough to go look should’ve been at the funeral. Anyway, I was about to tell you before I got interrupted. Somebody’s been there, yesterday or last night.”
"How do you know that, Nana?"
“Anything missing from the house?” Bill asked.
“Nothing missing. But the boat’s been moved. Not much. Like maybe they tried to put it back where it was, but missed by a mite.”
“Now Eula," Bill began, both hands up with palms facing her. "Don’t get your back up, but how can you be sure? The house has been burned and you haven’t been in the boat in a while.”
“Suddenly I look senile or something? Crystal and I went over the house pretty good Wednesday. They might've been in the house but they didn’t move anything. But they moved the boat between yesterday morning and today.”
Her chin was set and no one challenged her.
Bill chose his words carefully. “You think of any reason somebody’d move the boat? Some kids wanting to fish, maybe?”
“Can’t think of any reason. It's rarer ‘n hen’s teeth for kids to sneak in and fish without asking me first. And then it’s off the bank or the dock. I’ve never known ‘em to use the boat. Not in forty years.”
“Well, I’ll run by and check on it.” Bill got up to leave.
“Don’t you want to stay and eat dinner?” Eula asked. “Got chicken ‘n’ dumplings on the stove.”
"I'm ready," said Crystal.
“Mighty tempting. But I’d better get back to work. See y’all. Nice funeral, Eula.”
#
With the midday meal finished and the dishes washed and put away, Eula and Melva sat on the back porch shelling purple hull peas. Crystal changed from her funeral attire to comfortable jeans and a blouse and settled down in a big easy chair in the living room, eyes closed, her mind looking for answers. She didn’t doubt for a moment that the boat had been moved. But why? What did burning the house have to do with moving the boat? Unless someone wanted to get rid of Eula so they could check out the lake. For what? Certainly not fish.
A Ton of Gold (Crystal Moore Suspense Book 1) Page 7