The reporter reminded the reader that during the purchase process between the Western Hog Corporation and Peggy Wilson, residents of the area had picketed Peggy’s house and Ed Bowman’s office. When that hadn’t stopped the sale, CRAP had started a campaign of harassment. There had been slashed tires, midnight phone calls, rocks through windows, and hog manure dumped on lawns and vehicles. The reporter then speculated that this septic tank debacle could be another episode of sabotage by the members of CRAP.
Elizabeth looked up at the ceiling for a moment while she digested that. If CRAP was involved, their measures had grown a little more drastic. Where would they have obtained the skeleton? When did they put it in there? The people responsible must have known that the deal would be over before the tank was drained and it was discovered. Surely they hadn’t thought it would stop the construction of the barn?
At the end of the article the writer said that the acreage had been owned by Peggy Wilson and her husband Harry, who had disappeared nine years ago. Before them, the owners had been Martha and Warren Davidson. The Davidsons lived in Lethbridge.
Elizabeth put down the paper. She wanted to phone her sister. She looked at the clock on the wall and picked up her cell phone. There was no answer. To keep occupied she opened her laptop, created a new file, which she titled Septic Stan and began typing in everything that had happened since she and Peggy were stopped on the road by Dick and Arnie.
When she was finished, she looked at the clock again. Sherry should be home now. The Pincher Creek Echo and Crowsnest Pass Promoter could wait until a later date or when she returned home. She dialled the number. When Sherry answered Elizabeth said. “Hi, it’s me.”
“Hey, I was just thinking of calling you. How is the article coming along? Are you getting good stuff for it?”
Elizabeth could hear the usual bubbliness in her voice. Maybe her worries were unfounded. “Yeah. So far, the places are as good as I had hoped.”
“What about the B&B? Is it anywhere near the place where that skeleton was found?”
Elizabeth couldn’t help herself. She just had to share her experience with Sherry. “I was actually there when the police pulled the bones from the tank and the owner of the B&B is the daughter of the woman who owned the acreage.”
“Hey, slow down. What’s this about being there?”
Elizabeth took a deep breath and told Sherry the full story.
“Don’t go getting involved like last time,” Sherry cautioned.
Elizabeth pondered telling her about that, but decided against it for now. It was time to get to the subject she wanted to discuss. “So what’s happening with you? I’m guessing you found a lump or something.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Sherry?”
“Yes, I found a lump.”
Elizabeth felt a chill go through her. Oh, no, not Sherry too. She took a deep breath and her voice quavered. “You should have told me or someone,” she said softly.
“I didn’t want to worry anyone. Besides, everyone was busy.”
“Oh, Sherry.” She tried to keep the tears from her voice. “I’d have gone with you to see your doctor. That’s what big sisters are for.”
Sherry laughed. “And they are for borrowing clothes from, too.”
Elizabeth’s laugh was a little flat. “So, what did your doctor say?”
“When she felt the lump she called the Breast Centre. The earliest they could get me in is next Wednesday.”
The Breast Centre was the place their mother had gone to for her mammogram and that’s where Elizabeth had hers done also. It was becoming a family place.
“What time is your appointment?”
“I have to be there at eleven o’clock.”
“I’ll make sure I’m back to go with you.” Elizabeth mentally started revising her schedule.
“No, you won’t.” Sherry said emphatically.
“Why not?”
“Because all you have talked about for weeks is this writing assignment and going camping. I won’t spoil it for you.”
“You won’t be spoiling it. Weather permitting I hope to be finished my research this week and I can camp anytime.” She didn’t have to do anything about Septic Stan.
“I said no. I know you want to spend time in the mountains to feel close to Mom for a while, so do it.”
Elizabeth quit arguing. “If I don’t make it back in time will you call me after your appointment?”
“Yes.”
Elizabeth knew she wouldn’t be able to get to sleep after hearing Sherry’s news. She phoned her friend Sally to find out how her father was doing. She didn’t think he would like her to check up on him two nights in a row.
“He’s doing great. We had supper together and watched a movie.”
“Thanks for keeping an eye on him for me, Sally.”
“Not a problem. You know I’ve always liked him. You remember the crush I had on him when we were in Grade 7, don’t you?”
Elizabeth laughed. “I sure do. You were telling me how he should divorce my mother and marry you and then you would be my stepmother.”
“Yes, I was even writing Mrs. Phil Oliver in my notebooks. Pretty corny now when you look back on it.” Sally changed subjects. “By the way, what’s this about bones in a septic tank?”
Elizabeth explained everything that had happened since her arrival.
“And you’re living at the daughter’s place? Isn’t that a bit creepy?”
“Not really. They’re all very nice people. I really don’t think they had anything to do with it.”
“I hope so.”
“Don’t tell any of this to Mom and Dad … Uh, to Dad.”
“He’s bound to see it on the news just like I did.”
“I know and I’ll tell him about it the next time I talk to him.”
“Okay.”
Elizabeth hesitated. She didn’t know how to say this, but she knew her friend would support her. “I’m going to write about this skeleton business.”
“What do you mean, write?”
“Well, I’m trying to find out as much as I can so that I can write a true crime article or maybe a fiction story about it. I seem to be attracting dead bodies on my travels, so I might as well take advantage of it and see if mystery writing might be something I want to pursue.”
“Hey, great idea,” Sally said then added. “But do you think it’s wise being so close to the action? Why don’t you just wait until it settles down and then get your information from reading about it?”
“Where’s the thrill in that?” Elizabeth laughed. “Besides, how dangerous could it be here? That skeleton is probably older than I am and whoever put it there is long dead.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Sally sounded mollified. “If you do decide to try fiction, maybe I can help you.”
“Yes, how is your writing course going?” Sally had begun taking an evening course a month ago.
“So far, so good. I have to hand in my short story next week.”
Elizabeth knew better than to ask what it was about. Sally had refused to say anything about her ideas when she’d been given the assignment. “I will only let you read it once I have gotten it back from the instructor. And only if she thinks it’s good,” she’d said.
After she hung up, Elizabeth turned on the television and caught the beginning of the late night news. The skeleton story was the opening feature. The newscaster cut away to a reporter who was standing in front of the old house/garage. He pointed out the yard, and the tank, explained how the bones had been found and then the newscaster continued as footage was run of the acreage.
“Police are trying to find the whereabouts of Harry Wilson and Julia Clarke who have been missing for the past nine years. Rumour has it that they left the area together but no one has seen or heard from either of them in all those years, and local speculation has it that the skeleton may be one of them.”
He concluded with. �
�Depending on the circumstances, it can take around ten years for a body to decompose to the point of being a skeleton. The police are now waiting for a report back on how old the skeleton is and whether it is male or female.”
* * * *
The next morning Elizabeth opened her eyes and saw through the window that dark clouds still hung over the region. She groaned and lay back, disappointed. She’d wanted to return to the Crowsnest Pass today. After a moment of moppiness she said. “Oh well, I’ll find something else to do.”
Chevy jumped off the bed and stared at her, a sign he wanted to go outside. She quickly showered and dressed, and they hurried down the stairs so she could let him out. While she waited, Peggy pushed open the kitchen door.
“I thought I heard something. Are you staying for breakfast today?”
Elizabeth glanced outside. The sky hadn’t changed. “Yes,” she said, with a laugh. “I’m not in much of a rush today.”
“Good. I’ll let Shirley know.”
“Tell her not to go to any bother. Toast will be fine.”
“You are a paying guest,” Peggy said, cheerfully. “And as such you will be treated to a paying guest’s breakfast.” Then she grinned slightly. “Although, I hope you don’t mind eating in here with us.”
Elizabeth smiled in return. “Not at all.”
When Chevy returned they went to the kitchen. Peggy was setting the table and Shirley stood at the stove spooning pancake batter onto a griddle. Stormie immediately jumped off her chair and dropped to her knees beside Chevy.
“Looks like you are going to have to get a dog,” Peggy said to Shirley, as she motioned Elizabeth to sit at the table.
Shirley glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “I don’t think we can handle one just yet.”
“Handle what?” Al asked, entering the room. He went up to Shirley and kissed her cheek.
“A dog.”
Al looked at Stormie with her arms around Chevy’s neck and her face snuggling his.
“We should discuss it,” he said, with a wink to Stormie. He sat beside Elizabeth at the table.
Peggy poured the coffee while Shirley flipped the pancakes and removed a pan of biscuits from the oven. She transferred them deftly to a wire rack to cool. By then the pancakes were done, and she placed them on top of the stack already on a plate and brought it to the table.
“Help yourself,” Shirley said.
Elizabeth lined up the assorted jars of jams and jellies and read off their names. “Raspberry-peach jam, strawberry-plum, peach-pineapple, rhubarb-strawberry… How delicious! I’ve never seen these combinations before, Shirley.”
“I try to make something unique for our guests,” Shirley said, her voice friendly again.
Elizabeth was relieved to see that she’d gotten over their discussion last night. “It must be a lot of work.”
“It is but Mom helps a lot.”
There was also syrup, honey and peanut butter.
“Peanut butter,” Elizabeth said, holding up the jar. She loved peanut butter on her pancakes but usually got an “Ugh,” when she mentioned it to people.
Elizabeth placed a pancake on her plate and dipped in the jar to bring out a knife full of the good stuff. After spreading it on her pancake, she then folded it like a sandwich and took a bite. She looked up to see Al do the same.
“Good, isn’t it,” he said, around his mouthful.
“The best,” she managed.
When she had finished the first, Elizabeth had another pancake with peanut butter then buttered a third and picked up the syrup bottle. It was warm. She tipped it onto her pancake. It was different than any she’d seen. She looked at Shirley.
“It’s made from a maple flavouring called Mapleine.”
Elizabeth tried it and nodded her head. She may never go back to real maple syrup again.
Between mouthfuls she broached the subject. “I was reading the newspaper last night and the reporter indicated that the skeleton might be some of CRAP’s work.”
“Yes, I read that, too,” Peggy said.
“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was,” Shirley said, indignantly. “I think it’s really disgraceful what they did. There were plenty of meetings held for people to voice their concerns before the sale.”
“And it wasn’t as if the developers just came in here and stampeded over everybody’s wishes,” Peggy continued. “Ace Developers had been turned down for other properties before they came to me.”
“And why did you sell to them?”
“No one lives close enough to be affected.”
Elizabeth looked at Shirley and Al.
“We’re far enough away it won’t bother us,” Al said.
“What about your guests driving by it?”
“We’ll give them other directions so they bypass it.”
“Then why was CRAP targeting you, Peggy?”
“They keep saying that the smell is going to carry on the wind further than the developers say it will.” She sighed. “I sure hope they are wrong. I’d hate to think my profiting from the sale is going to harm someone.”
“Like everything else, the complaining will eventually die down,” Shirley said. “And it’s been worth it because the sale gave Mom more money than if she’d sold it to someone wanting acreage living.”
The phone rang, startling them all. Peggy and Shirley looked at each other and then at Al. He went and picked up the receiver. “Hello,” he said. He listened a moment.
“No, you may not come out here for an interview.”
He was about to hang up when something the other person said stopped him. “What?”
Shirley stood and went to him. He put his arm around her. Suddenly his face turned red with anger. “Where the hell did you hear that?”
He glanced at Peggy who looked down at her hands on the table.
Silence.
“Well, it’s a lie and if you dare print it we’ll sue you.” He slammed down the receiver and yanked the cord from the wall.
There was an uncomfortable silence. “What’s a lie?” Shirley asked.
He didn’t answer.
Elizabeth looked at Stormie who was staring, wide eyed, at her parents. “Why don’t you take Chevy and show him your room?”
She didn’t move.
“If you roll the ball for him he will run and bring it back, like he does when you throw it.”
“You go, Sweetheart,” Shirley said.
Stormie slid off her chair and headed past her parents to the entranceway. Her movements were slow and she kept her eyes on Al and Shirley. She picked up the ball she had bought for Chevy and walked towards the swinging door. Elizabeth shooed Chevy after her. Within a few moments she could faintly hear the ball bouncing off a wall.
“Al, what’s the matter?” Shirley asked.
Al put both arms around her as if to protect her. “It seems there’s a rumour going around that Peggy killed your Dad and tossed him into the septic tank.”
“No,” Shirley cried, breaking away from Al’s embrace.
Elizabeth felt a blush creep up her face.
“Why would people say that?” Shirley asked near tears.
“It’s just a rumour.” Al reached for Shirley. But she stepped back shaking her head.
“I think I started it,” Elizabeth said.
“You?” Shirley turned on her. “Why would you do that?” she cried. “You don’t even know us.”
Elizabeth cringed then spread out her hands as she explained. “I was talking to John at the information centre and he told me about your father leaving. I asked him if he’d seen him since and he jumped to the conclusion that I was suggesting the skeleton belonged to him.”
“John thinks I’m a killer?” Peggy asked, startled.
“He didn’t say that,” Elizabeth hastened to say.
“If he thinks it’s Harry, then how else would he figure the body got there?”
Elizabeth was going to mention an irate husband or boyfriend but she d
idn’t want to aggravate the situation any more than she already had.
“We don’t even know that the rumour started there,” Al said. “Anyone who knows the circumstances, and that includes most of the people in Fort Macleod, could have jumped to the same conclusion.”
“You’re right,” Shirley admitted, calming down a little. She went to Al’s waiting arms. “But it’s not true and it should be stopped.”
“That will only happen when the police get the information back from the lab about the skeleton.”
“I hope it happens soon. We don’t need this hanging over our heads.”
Elizabeth helped clear off the table and put the food away. Al, Shirley and Stormie went to clean out the horse barn. There really wasn’t much for her to do. She could continue west and take pictures in the rain. Or she could drive into Fort Macleod and visit the library to see if there was a history book of the area. Sometimes she learned more from them than she did from brochures. Or she could do nothing, which didn’t fit in her plans too well.
“Do you know when the library opens?” she asked Peggy.
“They are doing some renovations so they are only open between twelve and four this week.”
Well, that still left Elizabeth the rest of the morning.
Peggy took a bag of apples out of the refrigerator and put them on the counter. “I’m making some pies,” she said, as if sensing Elizabeth’s indecision. “Would you like to peel the apples for me?”
“Sure,” Elizabeth said, glad for something to do. She picked up the paring knife and began on the first of the dozen apples.
“Are you married?” Peggy asked, as she measured the flour and salt into a bowl.
“No. Never had the pleasure,” Elizabeth said. “Not that I haven’t tried,” she added quickly. “I was engaged for a year, then we broke it off for lack of enthusiasm.”
“That’s too bad,” Peggy said. She cut the lard into the flour and added water, mixing it all together with her hands.
“Yes, it is,” Elizabeth said wistfully. “I would have liked children.”
Peggy looked at her. “You’re still young enough.” She rolled out a piece of the dough and wrapped it around the rolling pin. She placed it over the pie plate and adjusted it to fit.
The Travelling Detective: Boxed Set Page 9