Old Bones Never Die

by Lesley A. Diehl

  As I drove off, my cell rang. It was Grandy, and she wasn’t happy.

  “Where have you been? I closed the store at five, and it’s going on five thirty.”

  “I got delayed. I’ll tell you all about it later.” I heard voices in the background. “Is someone there? Did I forget we were having company tonight?”

  “No. We’re absolutely not having anything tonight. I just wondered where you were. You said you’d be home by now.”

  “I’ll be home in another hour. Do you want me to pick up some take-out for dinner? Or are you cooking? Or am I supposed to cook tonight?”

  “No one’s cooking. We’ll eat leftovers.” With a heavy sigh, she disconnected.

  I must have done something to get her mad, because she sure sounded angry.

  I stepped on the accelerator and coaxed the old truck to several miles over the speed limit, hoping I wouldn’t attract the attention of a cop and the truck wouldn’t rattle to pieces. She wasn’t used to speeds over thirty or forty.

  The scenery sped by on the Beeline, now a four-lane road from West Palm to Sabal Bay. Maybe that was an improvement for those traveling this route, but I missed seeing all the wild, untamed vegetation on the side of the road as well as the wading birds seeking their dinners by probing the wetlands that were now replaced by wide shoulders and recent plantings of cultivated bushes and trees. I wasn’t even certain most of it was indigenous to this area. That was progress, or someone’s take on it.

  I pulled into my drive expecting to see Max and Grandy’s car, but it was empty. Where were they? Odd. Especially after the earlier conversation with Grandy.

  The sky looked clear, but I couldn’t chance a passing shower ruining the furniture in the bed of the truck. After all, we sold items “gently used,” not “a bit rained on.”

  My garage door opener was in my car, so I had to go into the house and open the door by going through the kitchen and into the garage. I’d pull Sammy’s truck in and unload it tomorrow. He wouldn’t mind if I kept it overnight.

  I unlocked my front door and reached around to turn on the ceiling light in the living room, but before I could hit the switch, the lights came on and a crowd of people all yelled, “Surprise!”

  “What is going on?” I asked. I was certainly surprised, but why was my house filled with all my friends and relatives?

  “This is your engagement party. We knew we couldn’t surprise both you and Sammy, so we thought we’d spring this on you,” Grandy said.

  Sammy stepped forward and kissed my cheek, then presented me with a small box.

  “A ring?” I asked.

  Sammy beamed with pride. “Yup.”

  I opened the box. Inside was a lovely pearl ring, its opalescent color a milky blue-green under the light. It was nestled in a heavy gold setting. The ring appeared to be very old. It was simple and elegant and spoke of love.

  “It was the ring my father gave my mother. It belonged to his mother. My mother sent it to me the other day. Somehow she knew I’d be needing it.”

  “So if I marry into this family, will I have the gift of second sight also?” I asked.

  Chapter 18

  It was a lovely engagement party. The three boys seemed to be more excited than anyone, except perhaps me. I felt as if I’d been granted every wish I ever wanted from my childhood until now. The only darkness in the evening was that Sammy’s father and my parents weren’t here to share our happiness, but we had our family and all our friends, including those about to become my family—Sammy, the three boys, Grandfather, and Sammy’s cousins. Sammy’s mother called from Las Vegas to add her congratulations. My house was crammed with people and joy.

  It was late when we closed the door to our guests. We bedded the three boys down in their sleeping bags in the living room, and I sent Grandy and Max off to bed while Sammy and I cleaned up. It wasn’t until after midnight that he and I snuggled under my comforter. It was a night so brimming with love and happiness that we immediately fell asleep in each other’s arms, exhausted with the wishes of love received from everyone. I believed we shared the same dreams as we slept.

  I awoke to the smell of coffee brewing and an empty bed. I expected to find Sammy in the kitchen, but he wasn’t there.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked Max, who handed me a steaming cup of coffee.

  “Sammy took the boys off to school, and Grandy is opening the shop. I’m about to go fishing.” Max drained his cup and grabbed his tackle box.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  Max pointed to the wall clock. “After eight. You were dead asleep, and Sammy said not to wake you.”

  I yawned and stretched. Max planted a kiss on my cheek and was out the door. The feeling of happiness from last night colored my morning as I mentally prepared for my appointment with Shelley at the Cypress ranch.

  At the store Shelley and I pulled several dresses off the rack as well as the one chosen for Mrs. Cypress by her daughter and approved by Danny.

  “I understand you went to school with the Cypress daughter,” I said to Shelley as we put the dresses in the car and left for the ranch.

  “I knew her, but not well. Amanda is her name. She was quite a bit older than me, but I remember her because she rescued me from some bullies on the playground. She was always kind to the younger kids. She went off to college for a while, but came back here when her mother’s physical condition got worse. She’s now her mother’s caretaker. She’s devoted to her family, but it’s not much of a life for a young woman.”

  “Danny said his mother doesn’t get out of the house much, that she’s in a wheelchair.”

  Shelley nodded. “I guess not, but I did hear that she liked to go to the lake and sit by the water. Amanda stopped in the store one day last week when you were out and said her mother doesn’t ask to be taken to the lake anymore because the construction there is noisy and has torn up the area.”

  I remembered the construction site and thought it was a shame to have destroyed the serene beauty of it. “Maybe they can find her another place that will give her some peace and happiness.”

  “I know she still mourns for her lost son. They’ve heard nothing from him in recent years. It must be hard for a mother not to know what happened to her child.”

  “It sounds like there’s a lot of sadness in that family,” I said, wondering if that figured into Danny Cypress’ character. Was it grief that made him so unpredictable, odd, and perhaps dangerous?

  “Here’s the turnoff to the ranch.” Shelley pointed to a road leading off to our right. I could see buildings in the distance. As we got closer, the house appeared in a grove of palms and live oaks, the latter shading both sides of the building. I don’t know what I expected, but given that the Cypress family was Miccosukee, I’d envisioned a structure much like Grandfather’s, a simple house on stilts built of hand-hewn timbers. This was anything but. The exterior was stucco the shade of a blush on a woman’s cheek, just pink enough to be inviting but not so much that it looked trite and girlish.

  One section of the large house had two stories, unusual in these parts, while the other arm of the building was a single story. The roof was high, peaked, and made of red tiles. The tall windows were rounded at the top, giving the structure a Mediterranean feel. A semicircular drive fronted the house with a large, tiered fountain bubbling water into a pool at its base. Two vehicles were parked in the drive. One was an SUV with the Gator Way Construction insignia on its door. The other—a white, four-door pickup—also sported an insignia. It was the picture of a cypress tree with Spanish Moss hanging from its limbs. “Cypress Ranch” was lettered below the tree. Danny Cypress stood on the porch in front of massive carved-wood double entrance doors.

  Danny wore his usual outfit—blue suit, white shirt, and a tie in a subdued light blue and grey print. The very picture of a successful lawyer. For some reason, I thought he’d be more casually dressed at home, but then, he probably was only taking a few hours out of his work day to meet
us here at the ranch. He greeted us, took the clothing items out of Shelley’s hands, and invited us into the house. We entered a cool entry with a vaulted ceiling, a tile floor, and amber walls adorned with colorful tapestries depicting rural scenes of natives in their daily lives. The hangings included wading birds—some with white plumage, others smaller and greenish-blue in color—alligators, Florida panthers, and other small mammals. Scenes of Florida as it once was.

  “My mother, father, and sisters are outside. Let me introduce you.” He gestured to glass doors at the rear of the room. The view overlooked a swimming pool with several chairs, lounges, and tables on its deck. A woman sat in a wheelchair, her size so diminutive that she looked like a doll in an adult seat. A young woman was seated to her right. When we approached, she looked up from the book she was reading. She and Shelley exchanged greetings.

  Danny introduced us to his mother and me to his sister, Amanda. The surface of the pool water was broken by the body of a swimmer, who pulled himself out of the pool and grabbed a towel.

  “My father,” said Danny.

  The man was not much taller than me, but his chest was broad, his arm muscles large, and his grip strong as he took my hand.

  “Danny has told me a lot about you,” he said.

  “All good, I hope,” I said.

  He didn’t smile, nor did he deny or agree with my comment.

  “I was taking my daily swim, fifty laps.”

  “Every morning,” said Danny. His voice held a note of respect, the kind that often comes from a child firmly disciplined and sometimes harshly punished by an authoritarian parent. Danny Cypress clearly admired his father and feared him too.

  I shifted my gaze from the father and son back to the mother. It was clear she was not in good health. Her dark skin must have once had the healthy glow of her daughter’s, but now it was deathly gray as if washed with ashes. Her face was filled with sadness and lined with grief, but it registered little movement now, as if she felt too defeated to care about what was going on around her. Her black eyes told a different story. There was the shadow of mournfulness there, but they examined me carefully as if looking for something in me. A judgment of some kind or a secret I was keeping from her? Her full lips were pulled across her teeth in a grim line. As pretty and young as the daughter was—dark-skinned with blue-black hair and her mother’s full mouth—Amanda carried some of her mother’s sense of defeat. No one smiled here, not even to greet their guests.

  As if there was a need to explain her tiny stature, Danny said, “My mother is Guatemalan.”

  “Ah,” I replied, not really knowing what to say. “Well, I have some lovely dresses for you to look at, Mrs. Cypress. I hope you’ll find them to your liking. Ms. McCleary will be happy to fit them for you.”

  Mrs. Cypress looked up at her husband, still standing at her side. Her eyes seemed to plead for something. I wasn’t certain what.

  “You can use my library to try them on and fit them.” He gestured toward another set of entryway doors to the left of those we had just exited. Without another word, he strode into the house.

  “We rarely have company. It’s too tiring for my mother.” Danny watched as Amanda pushed the wheelchair into the library, Shelley trailing behind. Was Danny trying to excuse the abruptness of his father’s greeting and exit?

  I smiled and turned to follow the threesome into the library, but Danny placed his hand on my arm to stop me. “Have a seat. I can get our housekeeper to bring some iced tea, if you like.” His grip tightened, and he moved me toward one of the chairs around the table. I hated it when men decided what I should or could do, but Danny seemed to be eager to keep me here. I wanted to know why.

  “Tea would be nice.” I took the chair he held for me.

  The housekeeper, short, round, and with a face filled with happiness—appeared at the door. Danny nodded to her. Her joy contrasted strangely with the overwhelming sadness of the rest of this family.

  “I have some news for you,” Danny said. “I was about to call your detective friend, but thought I’d wait and tell you first. I assume the two of you are working together.”

  I knew what he meant, but I decided to act dumb. “Working together? On what?”

  “The case of the missing bones.”

  “We’re both interested in it. You know that the backhoe operator was killed in a hit-and-run or something that looked like a hit-and-run and that his father’s watch, which we assume he took off the body, was stolen from him. We’re guessing the person who hit him stole it.”

  “So you say.”

  “It’s true.”

  “I believe you, and that’s why you’ll be interested in what I have to say.”

  I said nothing, simply assumed my interested face.

  “Our garage man responsible for the upkeep of the company vehicles called me this morning. He was performing an oil change on one of our cars and noticed damage to the front of the vehicle. That particular vehicle is one used by one of our associate vice presidents, so at first I assumed he had failed to report a minor accident, but our repairman reminded me of something the day the bones were found.”

  I was too excited to keep quiet. Damage? On one of the construction company vehicles? It was just the lead Frida needed. “What? Tell me.”

  Danny leaned closer to me. “I thought you’d be interested.”

  There he was again, invading my personal space, but I did not move back. I would not be put off by this man. “Go ahead.”

  “The day the bones were uncovered, I was in my office—it’s on the corner of the building as you know—and I noticed the slot usually housing that car was empty. Then, later in the afternoon, the car was there.”

  “So your associate VP was off on business or playing hooky.”

  “No, and that’s what’s so odd. He was off, but he was off on a month-long combined vacation and business trip.”

  “Someone else in your company took the car out. Who?” I felt we were getting close to the truth.

  “If someone in the company wanted to drive that car, they would go to the garage man for the keys. Our man there said he never gave the keys out.”

  “There was a duplicate key then. Who had it?” I seemed to know the answers to this dilemma. Why didn’t he?

  “There’s another explanation, one that makes more sense. Someone must have left the keys under the driver’s side floor mat. The garage man and I thought the car had been taken for a joy ride and then returned. An outsider could have wandered in and saw an opportunity for fun.””

  “If you thought one of your cars had been stolen, if only for a few hours that day, why didn’t you notify the police?’ I had begun listening to this tale with hope, but now I doubted he was telling the truth. The story of a missing car with front-end damage left unreported to the authorities was just too convenient.

  “It was my fault. Our man told me that day that the car was missing and then had been returned. I assured him I would take care of it, but with finding the bones on the company site that day and then hearing of their disappearance the next, a joyride with a car that was returned slipped my mind. It didn’t seem important until today when the repairman spotted the damage.”

  “And why was it spotted today? Why not sooner?”

  “Obviously no one was driving the car, and it was taken into our shop today in preparation for our VP returning this week from his month’s absence.”

  I peered closely at his face. Was the entire story a tall tale? Was he telling the truth or covering for someone? “Call Frida and do it now. I hope for your sake that your garage man hasn’t started to repair the vehicle.”

  Danny smiled. “I told him not to touch it. I knew the authorities would want to see the damage. I’m not a fool, Eve.”

  “I know that. I just wish I could believe you’re not a liar.”

  The smile on his face never wavered. He leaned farther in, and I suspected he was about to try and kiss me, but his father’s voice interrupted his
next move.

  “Your mother chose the dress your sister and you picked for her. The other two are lovely, Ms. Appel, but my wife assured me she has no use for more than one. I thank you for your consideration. Send me the bill.” He gave his son a warning look, then turned on his heel and left.

  “He’s probably on his way to the barns to see to one of our horses who has gone lame.” Danny avoided my eyes, as if embarrassed by the coldness in his father’s voice and abruptness of his departure.

  Shelley came back onto the pool deck with the dresses. “Mrs. Cypress seemed pleased with Amanda’s selection. I’ll get it to her in a few days.”

  “Where are Amanda and her mother?” I asked Danny.

  “This is the time of day they usually go to the lake, but with the site under construction, my mother prefers to spend her time at our small graveyard.” Danny pointed beyond the pool toward a field. At the far edge was a rise surrounded by fencing. Within, I could just make out the tops of headstones. Amanda was pushing her mother across the field toward the graveyard. A large mixed-breed dog with brown and black markings followed them. Like the daughter and the mother, the dog seemed to have sadness written in the slowness of his gait and the droop of his head.

  “Our last old hound. His brother died a few weeks ago, so we buried him out there.” Danny pointed to the cemetery. “After all, he was a part of the family, Mother’s favorite of the litter of four that we adopted years ago. Now there’s only one left. With the lake no longer available to her, Mother likes to sit in the cemetery. There she can find peace, think, and pray for her dog.” Danny’s voice threatened to break with emotion. It was the first time since we’d met that I believed he was speaking the truth.

  “And I’m sure she prays for her lost son also.” I placed my hand on Danny’s shoulder and patted it.

  His gaze shifted from the cemetery to me. He paled and his eyes widened briefly as if I’d startled him, but before I could wonder what I’d said, he gave me his usual smarmy smile. He was once again the clever lawyer. The sympathetic son I saw for a brief moment was gone.