by Loretta Ross
“I know,” she said. “I failed at banter. I’m disappointed in me too.”
“So what do you suppose happens now?” Randy asked
“Well,” Leona said, “Duncan stopped by the sale this morning and we spoke for a bit.”
“Duncan?”
“Chief Reynolds,” Death told his brother. “He and the Keystones went to school together.”
“He’ll always be Dunc to us,” Doris said.
“Not me,” Roy objected. “To me, he’ll always be Slippery Reynolds.”
“Do we want to know?” Death asked.
“It’s a long story,” Sam said, “and it involves a greased pig contest at a county fair, many years before any of you were born.”
“I see.” Death nodded. “So what did Slippery have to say when you talked to him?”
It was Leona who answered. “They’ve dropped the charges against Tony Dozier. The Robinsons have gone to pick him up. He’s going to stay with them for the time being. He’s going to have a difficult time of it. I don’t know that he’ll ever be all right, but at least he isn’t a murder suspect anymore.”
“And they charged Jones, right? We didn’t screw that up by listening to the cell phone, did we?” Death gave Wren a guilty glance. “I talked Orly into letting us hear it because I wanted to know, but it occurred to me later that we could have really messed up the state’s case.”
“I don’t think you did any harm,” Roy said. “And if you hadn’t stuck around to listen, you might not have been standing out in the yard to see Wren’s SOS, er, uh, OSO.”
“You hush,” she told him, then turned to Death. “He’s right, you know. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t ridden up when you did.”
Randy snorted. “You’d have chased Jones down and beat him up some more.”
“They’re charging him with armed assault and a whole bunch of other things because of last night, too,” Roy told her. “Of course. I don’t suppose you’ll be surprised to hear that he’s pleading insanity.”
“Ha,” Wren said. “I could make that case for him.”
“Well, don’t, okay?”
There was a break in the conversation as the pizza arrived and they got it paid for and distributed. Wren fetched everyone plates and silverware and Death and Randy passed around beer and soda pop.
“You have a lot of dishes,” Randy observed.
“Yeah, do you need any?”
“No, I’m good. I was just thinking that it’s going to be a pain to pack all this up and move.”
“I know. I was thinking that I should go ahead and start packing now, even though we haven’t found a house yet.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?” Sam asked.
Wren shrugged. “We haven’t even had a chance to talk about it. We have a lot to talk about.”
Death reached out and took her hand. “Did you tell them?”
“No. I’ve been waiting for someone to notice, but they’re all shockingly unobservant.”
The Keystones blinked and sat up, alert.
“Notice what?” Leona asked.
They were like family to her, but Wren felt suddenly shy and bashful as she held out her left hand. “It’s an engagement ring. Death asked me to marry him. We’re going to get married.”
“Yes!” Roy cheered, his response so enthusiastic that Death and Wren were a little taken aback.
“I’m, uh, glad you approve,” Death said.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Don’t mind my idiot brother,” he said. “He’s just excited because he won the pool.”
“The pool?” Death looked from one man to the other, eyebrows raised. “There was a betting pool on whether or not we were going to get married?”
“When,” Roy clarified. “Not whether. When you were going to get engaged.”
“It’s a very small town,” Doris said apologetically. “There’s not a lot to do for entertainment.”
“Well, now that the gamblers have had their say,” Leona put in, “allow me to just say congratulations. You’re a lovely couple and you’re going to be very happy. After all, if Doris and I can put up with these two all these years … ”
“Bah.” Roy flapped a hand at his wife. “Don’t let her fool you. Another week and she’d have won the bet.”
“Have you set a date?” Sam asked.
“Not yet,” Death said. “We really do have a lot to talk about.” He turned to Wren. “Where are we going to have the wedding? Do you want to do it in a church or outdoors somewhere or what?”
“I know a really unique place you could have a wedding,” Doris offered, “if you were willing to wait until spring.”
“Oh? Where’s that?”
“There’s a group of Viking reenactors—did you know there were Viking reenactors? Here, in Missouri?”
“No. Seriously? What do they do, raid Kansas?”
Leona laughed. “I don’t think they really do the raids so much. Mostly they’re into the clothing and the lifestyle. A lot of Vikings were peaceful farmers and artists and such. They do have one of those longboats with the dragon head carved on the prow, though. I’ve seen them sailing on the lake a few times.”
Doris nodded. “They have a Viking settlement built on the lakeshore a few miles north of here and they do encampments and things. I’ve seen pictures from a couple of weddings they did last year and they were beautiful, and really quite charming. I thought of them because Sam and I were up that way yesterday, looking over a possible sale.”
“Anything interesting?” Wren asked.
Sam shrugged. “There’s a little cove there. The only things on the cove are the Viking settlement and a private yacht club that went in when the dam was built back in the seventies and never really did very well. The club’s gone out of business again and the trustees are trying to sell it. I gather there’s a big resort firm interested, but they want the Viking settlement too and it’s not for sale.”
“Is there a mystery?” Randy asked.
“Why would there be a mystery?”
Randy shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just starting to sound like the plot for a Scooby Doo cartoon, so I figured there must be a mystery.”
“My brother’s insane,” Death observed.
“I know how you feel,” Sam agreed.
“Actually,” Roy said, “there is kind of a mystery. It’s a very old one, and I don’t know how you’d solve it, but … ”
“But what is it?” Randy asked.
“There’s a reason the reenactment group built their settlement where they did. The leader of their group is a poet and historian who specializes in Viking history. Back in the late seventies, he was a member of the yacht club. He had a daughter named Ingrid who disappeared when she was about seventeen and was never seen again. She went missing from her home, in Columbia, but when her father’s group wanted to build a Viking settlement, he persuaded them to build it next to his old yacht club.”
“Why?” Wren asked.
“Because he said that was where he felt close to her. Because that’s where he saw her ghost.”
the end
About the Author
© About Faces Photography
Loretta Ross is a writer and historian who lives and works in rural Missouri. She is an alumna of Cottey College and holds a BA in archaeology from the University of Missouri–Columbia. She has loved mysteries since she first learned to read. Death & the Gravedigger’s Angel is the third novel in her Auction Block Mystery series.
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