A Wicked Whack: Mad River Series (Prequel)

by Constance Barker

  "Remember the mysterious man who kept sneaking around and yelling at me, but never wanted to reveal himself?”

  Jenny nodded.

  "I think I know who he is and what he looks like finally. He might be able to help us and we should go find him," I continued. "But I think there's something we should take care of first. Something that we've wanted to know since this whole thing went down."

  Chapter Eleven

  Getting too far ahead on Jenny's death might have started to catch up with me. Too many dead ends and today was the large-scale battle. There was going to be very little time for Nick to do anything too detailed while many of us worked. I know I promised him that I would be good, but I could move just as fast as the police could. At least I liked to think I could.

  Many people were invested in seeing that battle and seeing it done well. I managed to distract a few more employees so I knew I could get an opportunity to speak with Annabelle privately. It's what Jenny and I had been wondering about for a while now. The Jimmy Gordon incidents with the trash can, though inconclusive, gave way to more interesting assumptions. Whom was he covering for if anybody at all?

  Jenny disappeared from my side again. I didn't think I’d ever get used to ghosts popping in and out of my life. Sometimes it seemed rude…like when I’d be in the middle of a conversation with one of the ghosts and they’d just fade away. Thanks for the confidence builder ye olde ghosts.

  I knocked on the new cookery house door. I hadn’t seen it since they closed down the old one for evidence retrieval. It was smaller than Jenny's old set up, much more rickety in appearance. I was shocked we had an unused building to begin with. I could smell peppered meat steaming from the back as the door creaked open.

  "Annabelle?" I called out.

  "Back here!"

  I made my way through the hall to find the kitchen looked much like my own at home. Annabelle was cooking like my sister with about four dishes on the go it seemed. She bounced around the room tending to each and looked positively stressed and hurried as she did so. Since she was not at ease with her role, I wondered if she would end up making any mistakes. I hadn’t kept up with her time in the kitchen much since Jenny's death.

  "Hi Shelby, what do you need girl?"

  "I just wanted to see how you were doing," I mumbled quietly. I felt terrible, as if I was interrupting her train of thought. My presence must have only added more stress.

  Annabelle stopped in the middle of the room and took in a breath. It seemed she didn't realize how hard she’d been working herself.

  "Are you coming in here to point fingers at me too?" she said, wiping sweat from her brow.

  "Have people been doing that?"

  "Emotions run high when a murder occurs," she began.

  Annabelle suddenly stopped in front of me, her stare serious, her stance defiant, "but I can tell you right now I had absolutely nothing to do with Jenny being murdered. I mean look around, you think I like managing this all by myself? Being the mayor is less exhausting. Besides, Jenny was my friend…I loved her.“

  Annabelle wiped a tear from her eye and looked me straight in the eye. “Honestly, I would kill for her to be alive right now!"

  Annabelle caught her own verbal misstep and put down the pot she held on the counter.

  "You know what I mean."

  Jenny appeared again. This time she’d entered from the side door of the kitchen, ready to hear what Annabelle had to say regarding the matter of her untimely demise. Matthias was at her side as well. They came no further than the doorframe.

  "Aw Annie, for as brash as you could be, that was sweet."

  I walked over to Annabelle. "I figured you weren't handling it well. An additional volunteer or two to help would’ve been nice under the circumstance. Why didn’t they give you anybody?"

  "Nobody could be trained in time and I think deep down the Sharps wanted me isolated in case I was at fault. We can't throw this weekend out of balance even more than it already is."

  "What are you telling people then?" I asked.

  Annabelle gulped hard on her own words. "I'm telling people..." Her voice trailed off again. She looked at her feet as if the answers were down there before looking at me again. Her face read guilty which was strange. Was I about to get a confession?

  "Oh gosh, I wish she would just come out with it," Jenny exclaimed.

  "Give her time," Matthias added touching Jenny's shoulder. "This is her truth."

  I looked to Matthias who only smiled at my confusion. It was as if he knew something…a secret. However, if he knew Annabelle was the killer, why wouldn’t he have told me already? As good as they were for providing information, they were even better at withholding.

  "Mark and I were in the other room..." She stopped talking. I looked to Jenny and Matthias who looked as if they were about to burst out laughing, snickering that only I would hear. Annabelle's cheeks flushed a deeper red. Judging by what I was saw, I started putting the rather lurid pieces together.

  "Wait...you...and Mark? You were? In the...? Oh dear lord..." I stifled the bile rising in my throat at the thought of Annabelle and Mark having a tryst in the cookery.

  Well that was quite the confession and certainly not one I expected. I began to pace myself. This alibi was huge and more than enough to clear her name entirely with fellow staff, as scandalous as it was. The more I thought about it though, the more it made sense. Annabelle could play with the big boys and a man's man like Mark was very much her type. Yesterday Mark hadn’t fought Jimmy on a whim. It was merely to defend Annabelle's honor. Whatever Jimmy said to him, it had to have been vile.

  "I knew she had a big old crush on the guy. I didn't realize they actually followed through on anything," Jenny said. "Then I had to go and die in the middle of it? I’m such a buzz kill!"

  "We were in the other room and he stepped out after to get us a snack. We had no idea how long she’d been in that pantry…dead. Poor soul. My prints might be on some of the items in there, but I definitely didn't have my hands on that weapon. You have to believe me."

  "It seems that the axe was clear, but there's been some tampering with the evidence anyway. I thought..."

  I stopped myself from going further on what I thought I knew. Lucky for me, Annabelle interrupted my train of thought.

  "Oh? Is that so?"

  "You wouldn't have been pegged by science anyway. Why don't you just tell people what's been going on? This could help the case. They've assigned Nick to do some more questioning. You should go talk to him.”

  "I've told one police officer about Mark and me. Mark told a similar story to the police on Thursday so I'm already off the hook with them. It's everyone else here that's a problem. I think Matthew knows the police have let me off the hook but he's not buying it. We're just trying to stay a secret for now so I'm lucky to have the law on my side in this case. This town is so small and I don't wish to make my dating life public. Can you imagine what the headline would be? Mayoral romance born during a murder!"

  "Do you think it’d be that dramatic?”

  "This town is small, Shelby. Creating the dramatic is what we do best. I mean, look at where we are!"

  I laughed despite myself. Annabelle had a point. I just needed to get her take on the issue of the preserves jar.

  "Annabelle, there's a piece of evidence missing that no one believes is a possibility to solving this murder. Do you remember Jenny eating any preserves that day? Or saying she wanted some?"

  Annabelle thought for a moment. I could see the wheels turning in her head. This might be the confirmation I needed.

  "Mark mentioned she smelled like them, but there was no evidence to clean up. Jenny loved them though. She had some for breakfast that morning on the bread she made."

  "So there should be a missing jar of preserves around here, right?"

  Annabelle nodded matter-of-factly.

  "Shelby? Are you actively pursuing Jenny's killer? Is that why you came here?"

  "Yes." />
  "Good. Justice needs to be served, no matter who deals the blow," she replied.

  It was nice to know I had Annabelle on my side in terms of what I was doing. One of the stove pots made an intense hissing from excessive steam and I lost her attention further. She swerved over to quell the heat.

  "I suppose I should get back to work," Annabelle said. "Please don't tell anyone what I told you, Shelby."

  "I won't. I should be getting to my post soon too."

  I said my goodbyes and headed for the door with determined purpose. Jenny and Matthias came behind me.

  "There's our confirmation. The preserves exist," I said.

  "I can always ask around to see if the other ghosts can look for them too," Matthias said.

  "Where do we go from here though? How do we find them?" Jenny asked.

  We exited the new cookery house and I suddenly stopped in my own tracks on the front porch. We knew the preserves existed. It was what I knew all along. It was the evidence I needed. Of course! It seemed as if I’d be looking for a needle in a haystack, but I had an idea. It would just have to wait as I had a demonstration scheduled in one hour.

  Chapter Twelve

  The most participated event of the day was the battle so many of our schedules remained a bit flexible thankfully. I had eaten my lunch after one weaving demonstration in the morning. I thought I’d go crazy trying to get through it though. Thankfully, I didn’t have to flounder with Jessamine helping me when I was stuck. Sometimes these crowds could be tough.

  It was finally back to business though. Many would’ve been heading off towards the battle so I would go relatively unnoticed, hopefully by Nick especially. I went at it alone this time, giving Jenny a bit of a break. She really wanted to see the battle so I told her it was no problem if she did.

  Shuffling over to the barn that I suspected belonged to Josiah proved difficult. It was off the beaten path of the Old Town's main routes and I was still in my civil war era garb. I didn’t fare so well in the sun and over the rugged terrain it was surrounded by. How could anyone have done anything productive with so many layers on? These shoes, while well made, were hard on the feet. Working as part of the re-enactment gave me such newfound respect for the women before me. It made me value the idea of progress.

  Through a thick line of lush trees not far from the dumpster where Nick must have picked up the Juniper Rock knife, I saw the large red barn we rarely used. I knew we had it, but I couldn’t figure out why. It was sometimes used as a showcase for old antiques, at times selling off some from local dealers during the year when business was slow. It housed Christmas concerts in the winter. Once or twice a year it held a wedding. It was as if the Sharps brought it in but weren’t sure what to do with it. If I hadn’t come across Josiah before and since he enjoyed hiding from me, I could only assume the preserves was in here, a place where many didn’t venture.

  "Yoohoo! Josiahhhhh!"

  I knew that voice, but couldn’t place where it came from. I looked around to find Gladys swerving between birch trunks. Why on Earth would she be looking for Josiah? At least she confirmed my mystery tormentor's name was indeed Josiah.

  She spotted me and glided over in my direction. Gladys was a big help discovering Nancy sneaking through my storage closet, but I still I didn’t know what to say to her. We hadn’t had a chance to talk and though sweet on first meet, Gladys seemed a little in your face.

  "Shelby! Oh Shelby! Have you seen Josiah?"

  "Can't say that I have. Are you looking for him too?"

  "I've been looking all day for him. He's so good at hiding," she said. "Any who, we're going down to the battlefield to play a game later. He needs to be on team Gladys!"

  Gladys proceeded to glide off down the hilly path in her bouncy petticoat, a few fallen leaves blowing about her as she did so.

  "Tell him if you see him, Shelby! He has to come!" she hollered back to me, before breaking into some sort of song that I swore I heard sung before around here. What a hoot she was.

  I took hold of the large metal handle on the door and swung back as hard as I could. These large barn doors were no easy feat. With the movement, it felt that the door could’ve taken me for a ride it was so powerful. My pull though thankfully gave me enough space to sneak casually inside.

  I fumbled around in the dark for a light switch. How could so little sunlight have gotten into this building? It had to have been as old as the town itself. It mystified me that no light could get through the wood, which held this thing up.

  The barn lit up when I clicked on the switch. A barn wired with electricity. Not a common find these days but since Olde Town used it for storage and the occasional party, it definitely needed it. I think I might have been here once for an antique sale but it certainly didn’t look as clean as it did then. Judging by the piles of stuff lying around, it seemed that this place hadn’t been properly used in months. The things you find once you venture outside of a tiny little office sifting through emails.

  "Josiah, it's me Shelby. You know...good ol' Whitaker who doesn't know how to focus on what's important as you so clearly point out to me? Are you here?"

  I waited and heard nothing. I could’ve sworn this was where he would have been. Since Gladys had been looking around this area for him, I knew I had to be close. Then it hit me. Perhaps he was not hiding from me.

  "Josiah, Gladys is not here. You can come out now."

  "Oh good."

  Ah-ha. There he was, the raggedy Santa Claus. Well, I heard him anyway. I just couldn’t find him. That was not even because he was a tricky spirit. There were so many piles of junk lying around; most of the room could’ve easily hid any movement if you didn’t look hard enough.

  "Josiah, you can come out. I really wanted to talk to you. It's important."

  "The old bat didn't send you did she? I don't like being tricked."

  "That's real funny coming from you. Pot, meet the kettle."

  I walked through aisles of piles. Furniture and scraps of wood were stacked in chaotic messes. I watched where I stepped fearing I’d accidentally knock something over.

  "Up here, Whitaker."

  I looked up to see Josiah had appeared in the barn loft. His denim clad legs dangled over the edge as he sat rocking back and forth between bales of hay. I imagined he was a pipe smoker, but unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything about that now. I stopped to face him.

  I put my hands on my hips. "You've got some explaining to do. What's your problem anyway? You've been bothering me for weeks and I have no idea why. Do you have information for me or are you just rattling my chain for the heck of it?”

  "Well I wasn't sure if you could hear me, but the more I danced around not being present, it was kind of hilarious to me," he said. "Being dead is boring."

  "Why were you hiding from me though?"

  Josiah leaned over, resting his arms on his thighs. He hushed his voice, which to me seemed funny, as I was the only one who could properly hear him.

  "It's that Gladys. I figured out a way to hide from her. It was nice to follow you out to the hardware store even to get away for a while. Do you have any idea what eternity is like with a crazy woman chasing you? It's not like she can just disappear!"

  And here I thought that once we passed we could escape all the trivial problems we experience day-to-day in this current world. Josiah proved me wrong.

  "I found your picture at the library. I know about what you did when you were alive and who you are…I mean were. Is this your barn? What happened to your farm? It seems to me that something’s really bothering you and it's not just Gladys chasing you around Mad River Old Town."

  "You modern folk think you can just take what you please and make money off it. Your entire way of thinking is just terrible! You take my barn, my home, my things, and turn it into a tourist attraction for bone-headed kids to run amuck in."

  "So you don't leave here, you cause trouble for me, because you're bored while wanting to monitor what's become of.
..well...your past I guess?"

  "Exactly."

  "What do you think you being here is going to do for that though? Josiah, I hate to be blunt, but you're dead. Your possessions are here. You can't take your legacy with you. I know it can be hard to let go, but it's just something-"

  "Have you seen the yard where my old house stands? So much garbage is tossed it into because now it's just a smithy. No one goes back there to clean it!"

  I had met spirits like Josiah before. They thought that even in death they could change what they didn’t want to happen to their legacies. I felt bad for those ghosts who felt completely wronged by items taken from them. It's the one time I really considered that having a family and continuing a legacy through next of kin seemed like a useful idea, if only for the fact that passing on without silly worries could be possible. Considering Josiah didn’t have any immediate kin to look after his own property, it was instantly repossessed by the town. Given that it was done without his permission, I assumed he followed it here. I had sympathy for him. But I came here for reasons bigger than his property dirtied up by those who crossed through it.