“Did he see your mother after Harry left?” She picked up the towel to dry the frying pan Shirley had just washed.
“He tried, but at first Mom refused. She didn’t want to be dating one man while married to another. She didn’t want to be like Harry. But he persisted, helping her out when she needed him. Eventually, she fell in love with him. They’ve been dating for a year.”
“How nice for them.”
“It’s kind of sad that all this happened, because they were planning a cruise together. Dick even told me he wanted to ask her to marry him while they were gone.”
Peggy came back in the room.
“What did he want?” Shirley asked.
“He heard about the age and sex of the skeleton. He came to offer his support to me.”
“That’s nice of him. Did you invite him in?”
“No.”
“Why not? We could have given him coffee and pie.”
“He was on his way over to Ben Drummond’s to sign some papers. It sounds like his business is officially sold.”
* * * *
Elizabeth decided to go to the convenience store to see if she could get any new information about Harry from Carol Whitmore . “I’m going into town,” she told Shirley. “Is there anything you want?”
“Oh, yes, we need some milk and cream. Hang on a minute, I’ll get the money.”
Elizabeth checked to make sure she had her cell phone before she left. When she reached the acreage she found it buzzing with activity. Someone was driving a front-end loader off the deck of a large trailer into the yard, and another truck carrying a backhoe was positioning itself to unload. As this was happening, television reporters and camera crews were setting up so that they could catch the proceedings on film. The reporters stood facing the camera so the action in the yard was in the background. There was also an RCMP cruiser, and the Etherington’s car which blocked her way. Frances sat in the passenger’s seat. Elizabeth waved, but Frances either ignored her or didn’t see her.
When the officers climbed out of their car, Elizabeth recognized Corporal Hildebrandt and Constable Branson. They walked over to the equipment drivers and indicated where they were to dig. The men nodded and went to their respective machines.
As the officers headed back to their car they were approached by the reporters. Elizabeth got out of her Tracker and went to listen.
“First of all, this is not a police conference,” Hildebrandt said. “I will only tell you that we have reason to believe there might be a body buried somewhere on the grounds.”
“Who told you that?” One of the reporters yelled out.
“We will give out more information at a later time.”
“Was it Mr. Clarke?”
“Whose body do you think it is?”
Hildebrandt and Branson ignored them and walked to their car. The reporters swarmed around them and continued asking questions.
“Since it looks like its Harry’s body in the septic tank, do you think this one might be Julia Clarke?’
“Do you think it might be Mike Altman?”
“Are you going to dig up the whole acreage?”
Elizabeth looked over at Hugh Etherington at this last question. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t seem all that perturbed about this new development.
Elizabeth walked up to him. “Is this going to delay the project?” she asked.
He looked over at her. “You can’t delay something that’s been suspended already.” He headed back to his car.
There was no doubt that he was involved. Did Peggy know? And what did he mean by suspended? She decided she would make it her business to find out.
In the meantime, she was getting hungry so she dug in the back of her vehicle for a can of beans and an opener. She gave Chevy a dish of water and some dog food then found a plastic spoon and ate the beans while she watched. The equipment spewed black smoke into the air as the operators dug and pushed soil around.
Word must have spread because soon there was a lineup of vehicles parked along the road and people were standing in the ditch watching. It looked like it was going to be awhile, so Elizabeth found the novel she had brought and opened it at the marker. As an adult her reading had gone from Agatha Christie and Mary Higgins-Clark to Canadian writers such as William Devereau, Kathy Reichs and Michael Slade.
After waiting another hour, during which no bodies were found, Elizabeth grew bored with the whole thing. She put down her novel and slowly inched her car forward. The reporters and bystanders moved aside so she could pass and she was on her way.
As Elizabeth filled her gas tank at the convenience store she noticed a sign on the side of the building: Laundromat and Showers, with an arrow pointing to the back. That was good to know. She’d have to come here and wash her clothes if she stayed much longer. She went in to find the milk and cream. She was glad to see that Carol was behind the till. She took her time, waiting for the place to clear out. Finally the last customer left so she went up to the counter to pay.
“Hi, Carol. Remember me?”
“Sure. You’re the writer. Buddy said that you are going to write about the murder.”
Good. The grapevine was saving her some time in getting to the reason she was there.
“Yes. And I would like to ask you some questions about Harry.”
“What about him?”
“Did you have an affair with him?” She asked outright. This wasn’t such a shot in the dark. It was quite clear that many of the women in town in her age bracket had had some sort of romantic interlude with Harry.
The question had startled Carol. “Yes,” she finally said. “It lasted about three months and then he moved on.”
“How did you feel about that?” Would she have been mad enough to kill him?
“I was kind of relieved.”
“Why?” She asked, surprised. The answer wasn’t what she’d expected.
Carol took her time remembering before she began to speak. “At first it was all intoxicating, and wonderful, and sensuous when we would meet. He’d romance me with a single rose and a bottle of wine. We’d drink and talk and then start kissing. He was very considerate in bed.” She sounded slightly embarrassed. “When we were finished, we’d lie together for a while and he’d tell me how much he enjoyed my company and how sorry he was that we both were married. I was close to asking my husband for a divorce when things started going wrong.”
“Wrong? How?”
“The tenderness stopped and instead of talking all he wanted to do was smoke marijuana. When I protested he started getting a little rough, pushing me around and slapping me. Finally, I quit going and it wasn’t long before he had taken up with another woman.”
“Did Peggy know he did drugs?”
Carol shrugged. “She could have but she had a way of ignoring everything bad that Harry did.”
“Where did you meet?”
“The Horseman Hotel. He was the manager there and could get the key to any room he wanted.”
Well, that answered another of her questions. She’d never been told what he’d done for a living.
“Do you think those bones are Harry’s?”
“According to what the police found out, it’s a possibility.”
“Do you have any idea who would have killed him?” It would be nice if she had a new theory. Elizabeth was getting tired of running through the old ones.
“I have lots of ideas. A husband could have been jealous enough to do it, Peggy could have finally got fed up with it all, or maybe Julia did it.”
“Why Julia?” This was new. Up until now, Julia had only been considered as a possible victim, not the killer.
“Well, we’re only assuming they ran off together. Maybe he was getting a little rough with her and she wanted out. If Harry refused to let her go and got even more violent she could have killed him in self-defence.”
That was a good point. Elizabeth wondered if the police had thought of that. “But why would
she take his body to the acreage and dump it in the septic tank?”
“Maybe it was her way of giving him back to Peggy.” Carol smiled.
“Could your husband have killed him out of jealousy?”
Carol laughed. “My husband has never had the energy to do anything except get up from the couch for another beer.”
The door jangled as some customers came in so Elizabeth said goodbye and left.
When Elizabeth drove by the library, she noticed Cindy sitting in her Dad’s car again, earphones on her head. That seemed to be her normal way of dealing with her boredom. On a whim, Elizabeth parked, went up and tapped on the window. Cindy didn’t look pleased to be interrupted but she took off the earphones and rolled down the window.
“Hi,” Elizabeth said. “How are you enjoying your holiday?”
She wrinkled her nose. “So far we’ve seen two cemeteries, the fort museum and now the library. It’s been boring.”
Elizabeth could understand that. Those certainly weren’t places most teenagers would want to go. Who spends a family holiday at the library, for heaven’s sake?
“So why did your Dad decide to come to this town?”
Cindy shrugged. “We were talking about going somewhere, when Dad suddenly said we were coming here.”
“Did he give any explanation?” As much as Elizabeth liked Fort Macleod she couldn’t see a reason for Brian to bring his daughter here.
“No. But I think it had something to do with a letter he got in the mail a few months ago,” she said, indifferently.
“A letter? From whom?”
She shrugged again. “I didn’t ask. I don’t think he even knows I saw it.”
“Where was it from?” Maybe there was another reason for his being here.
“Some place in Ontario,” said Cindy, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at Elizabeth. “Why are you asking, anyway?”
Elizabeth backed off that line of questioning hurriedly. She didn’t want Cindy to mention her prying to her father. “Are you going to the fair this evening?” she asked instead.
“Probably, if Dad ever gets out of the library.”
Elizabeth walked into the library. She had to do something to pass the time and she was curious as to why Brian would spend his time at a cemetery and in a library while on holidays. Maybe he was one of those people who wanted to learn more about the place they were visiting than what they found in the tourist brochures.
She saw him sitting at a table, an open book in front of him.
“Hi Brian,” she said, going up to him.
He jumped and quickly closed the book with the back cover facing up. He kept his arm over it, so she couldn’t make out the title.
“Hello, Elizabeth,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
She wanted to ask him the same thing. “Research for my article.”
“What article?”
Right. She hadn’t mentioned it to the other guests and with the finding of the skeleton, her being a writer was not the main subject of conversation anymore.
“I’m writing about the Crowsnest Highway for a travel magazine.”
“That’s interesting,” Brian acknowledged half-heartedly.
“Trying to learn about Fort Macleod?” She nodded at the book. She wished she could read the name.
“Ah, yes,” he said, pulling at a loose thread on his shirt sleeve.
What was he nervous about? “Do you plan on doing some of the sightseeing I mentioned or is it just this town that you are focused on?” She could be persistent.
“I want to see as much as I can.”
“The visitor’s centre has a lot of information.”
“Yes, we stopped in there yesterday.”
He certainly wasn’t being very friendly. “Well, I’ll see you.” She walked away.
* * * *
The diggers were still in action as she drove past the acreage, and there was still a row of cars and a ditch full of onlookers. The police had gone but the news people had remained on the alert. She didn’t bother stopping. If anything was discovered she would hear about it soon enough. At the B&B she told Shirley and Peggy about the search.
“So Raymond must have convinced the police that Julia is buried there,” Peggy said.
“It looks like it.”
“How many theories is that now?” Shirley asked. “If this wasn’t so serious it would almost be comical.”
“I just heard another one,” Elizabeth said. “Julia could have killed Harry and then threw him in the tank as a gift to you.”
Peggy sighed. “Some gift.”
Al came in the back door all covered in dust. He must have been helping the neighbour again. Shirley told him about the activity at the acreage while he chugged down a long drink of water. He just shook his head.
“I’ll be so glad when this is over.”
Elizabeth took Chevy upstairs to their room, planning to add the latest goodies to her file. She had just started when she heard the doorbell ring. She looked out the window and saw a police car. Darn. If only they’d arrived five minutes earlier. It would look downright peculiar if she showed up in the kitchen right now. She’d have to wait until after they left.
No sooner had the officers driven out of the yard than Elizabeth headed to the kitchen. She found her hosts at the table. Al held a sheet of paper in his hands.
“What are we going to do with it?” he was asking, as she opened the door.
“Show Elizabeth,” Peggy said.
Al handed it to her. Elizabeth took it and saw that it was a sketch of a man with a wide face. He had a high forehead, deep-set eyes, medium sized nose, and a small chin. His hair was parted on the right side and a bit of bangs hung over his forehead. Probably the artist felt with his big forehead, he would have worn his hair that way.
She looked at them. “Harry?”
“No,” Peggy answered. Elizabeth could hear a mixture of relief and disappointment in her voice.
Elizabeth looked at the sketch again. Seeing this face changed things. He was now more than just a skeleton. He was a real person who had had a name, perhaps a family and a job. He’d had a life.
“Do you know who he is?”
“No,” Shirley said. “None of us have ever seen him before.”
“The police must have been disappointed.” She placed the sketch on the table. “Why did they leave it here?”
“They seem to think having it here to look at might jog our memories.”
“So, it isn’t one of your renters?”
“Not that I remember. And that is what I told them.”
Al changed the subject. “So, are we going to celebrate that it’s not Harry by heading to the fair?”
Shirley and Peggy looked tired. “I don’t know if I really want to,” Shirley said, in spite of what they’d just learned.
“You haven’t made supper so you must have been thinking of buying a hamburger tonight.”
“I have been but if we stay home I can make macaroni and cheese.”
“And I don’t know if I can face all the stares we’ll probably get,” Peggy said. “You, Shirley and Stormie go, and take Elizabeth.”
Shirley shook her head. “I’ll stay home. After all, we do have guests who won’t be spending the evening in town.”
“I’ll let them in,” Peggy insisted.
“I don’t know. There are a lot of new people around right now. I don’t like the idea of you being here alone.”
Both Shirley and Peggy were coming up with reasons not to go.
“What are you afraid of?” Al asked. “We’ve never had trouble before.”
“But this is different. Someone is still mad about the hog barn. He might come out and start harassing Mom.”
“I’ll lock the doors and only open them for you and your guests,” Peggy said. “I’ll be fine.”
“And we don’t know our guests, either.”
The phone rang and stopped the conversation. They let the machine do its thing. It w
as just a reporter asking for an interview.
“You know, you’ve spent too many years worrying about what the people of Fort Macleod and the area think and I’m tired of it.” Al stood and looked down at Shirley and Peggy. “We’re not going to let them spoil our fun. I’ll have a quick shower and we’ll go. We’ll leave the doors unlocked for our guests like we always do.
“And you might as well ride with us,” Al said to Elizabeth, as he pushed open the swinging door. “There’s no use taking two vehicles.”
Elizabeth went to her room to get her camera and recorder. She always took pictures and liked to record her impressions of the events. She also checked to make sure she had enough money to buy a hot dog or hamburger for her supper. Before leaving, she put Chevy in the Tracker. He liked being in the vehicle rather than in a room, ever hopeful that eventually he’d be going somewhere.
Elizabeth, Peggy and Stormie climbed into the back seat and Al and Shirley sat in the front. On the way they discussed how long they would wander the grounds. Al bowed to their desire to stay only an hour or so. They drove west through town and turned right onto Lyndon Road. Elizabeth made a mental note that they passed the Fort Macleod Golf Course, which according to Peggy was built in 1890 and is the oldest golf course west of Winnipeg. Soon they came upon a column of parked vehicles. Al pulled into an empty spot. Elizabeth could hear the fiddlers as soon as she climbed out. They paid their admission and entered the Fish and Game Park.
“We’re taking Stormie to the Kidz Kountry,” Shirley said.
“Elizabeth and I will just stroll around,” Peggy said. “We’ll meet you in about an hour at the truck.”
The fiddlers were replaced with bagpipers. As they walked Peggy indicated a few people she knew, including the mayor and the minister of the church she attended. There was the occasional stare or pointing finger from the people they passed but everyone else’s minds seemed to be on the fair.
“Hi, Peg,” Dick said, coming up to them “Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.” Peggy said, smiling broadly.
The Travelling Detective: Boxed Set Page 18