Jolene was standing over a shallow hole she’d excavated, holding a big rock in her hand. It was covered in soot, looking just like every other rock out there.
“It’s just a rock.” Celeste came up behind her and looked over her shoulder.
“I don’t think so. Look at this.” Jolene brushed away some of the soot and Fiona could see the rock was tinged with green. Then Jolene turned it over to reveal the other side, which was smoothly polished with a deep well in the center. Deep enough to be used as a mortar.
Morgan gasped and reached out for the rock. Jolene handed it over and Morgan held it in her right hand, rubbing the smooth surface with her fingertips. The polished side was beautiful swirls of green with some black mixed in.
“This is it.” Morgan stared down at the rock. “It’s the mortar … the relic.”
“No wonder the police missed it. It just looks like a rock,” Celeste said.
“Yeah, especially on the unpolished side. It was lying face down, wedged in between two boards.” Jolene’s voice was edged with wonder. “And it’s been sitting out here the whole time.”
“But where’s the pestle?” Morgan asked.
They all looked at Jolene, who glanced down at the hole. “I didn’t find one.”
“Well, it’s got to be here.” Morgan crouched down and started sifting through the dirt. Fiona and Celeste followed suit.
One hour later, Gordy and two of Luke’s guys had come to ‘guard’ them and been put to work, but no pestle was found.
“There’s got to be one.” Morgan threw down a rock she’d picked up thinking it might be the pestle. “The mortar is no good without it.”
“Right. ‘When two become one, the healing’s begun’.” Jolene quoted the epitaph. “It won’t work unless the remedy is made with the mortar and pestle together.”
“Well, it’s not here.” Fiona brushed dirt and soot off her hands. “We’ve looked through the whole thing.”
“Maybe we didn’t do it methodically enough.” Morgan glanced out at the road. “Where is Swain? He should be here helping.”
Fiona stepped back up onto level ground and surveyed the rubble. “It shouldn’t be hard to find because of the shape. It wouldn’t look like a rock like the mortar did. It would be shaped and polished. You’d think it would stick out like a sore thumb.”
“Well, if it would stick out for us, then it would stick out for anyone.” Jolene pulled her phone out and started tapping on the screen. “The list of items taken from the pharmacy fire is categorized. I didn’t see the mortar and pestle, but if the pestle was found by itself … Yes! Here it is under miscellaneous. Rounded green scepter—possibly some kind of polished rock—five inches long.
“That sounds like it! That’s the length it should be.” Morgan said. “They must not have realized it was a pestle because they didn’t find the matching mortar.”
“So, it’s at the police station?” Celeste asked.
Jolene shrugged. “It seems that way.”
Morgan tucked the mortar in the crook of her arm and turned toward the car. “Then, what are we waiting for? Let’s go get it!”
Chapter Twenty-One
The inside of the Noquitt police station was quiet, which wasn’t unusual seeing as there wasn’t much crime in Noquitt, especially in the off-season. Morgan had given the mortar to Gordy and had instructed him and the guys to meet them back at the Blackmoore house after promising they would head there themselves just as soon as they got a look at the pestle. Jolene didn’t think Brody would let them take it—they’d probably have to resort to other means to get it in their possession once they verified it really was part of the relic.
“This is from years ago. I don’t know…” Brody gave the girls a sideways glance. “The evidence room is pretty disorganized and this must be way in the back.”
“Surely no one will mind if you just bring it out for us to look at?” Jolene leaned her upper half over the counter that served as a receptionist desk to look in at the rest of the station. “It looks like no one is even here.”
Brody glanced behind him. “I’m not sure if I should…”
“Is there some official request form?” Jolene whipped out her cell phone. “I’ll text Jake and see if he can get something official filled out.”
“And if that doesn’t work, I’ll have Luke get it through his government contact,” Morgan said importantly.
Brody’s eyes narrowed at the mention of his older brother. He knew Luke worked for a clandestine government agency, and Jolene could tell he didn’t want to get on the wrong side of his brother or the government. “Well, okay. I guess it won’t hurt to let you guys have a look.” He turned and headed toward the door that led to the back of the police station. “You guys stay out here.”
Morgan’s face registered disappointment at being left in the lobby, but they stood out there dutifully as he disappeared into the inner sanctum of the police department.
Fiona and Celeste sat in the orange plastic chairs that lined one wall. Morgan paced in front of the door and Jolene tapped her fingers impatiently on the counter while they waited a long twenty minutes for Brody to return.
Just when Jolene thought he’d forgotten about them, the door opened and Brody appeared. His face was red and a bead of sweat clung to his upper lip.
“Brody, what’s wrong?” Morgan asked.
“That item you were looking for…” He looked down at the floor, a mixture of concern and embarrassment spreading on his face. “It’s missing.”
***
Morgan shot Brody an incredulous look. “What do you mean missing?”
“Well, it was here.” He ducked back behind the door and pulled out a box with a loose leaf notebook on top. He opened the notebook to a page of photos and pointed to one in the middle. It was obviously a malachite pestle. The pestle. The second half of the relic. “This is it, right?”
Morgan nodded. “Yes, it looks like it.”
“As you can see, all the items were photographed and catalogued.” Brody pointed to the loose leaf notebook with the photos in it. “So it was here. But when I looked for it out back, I couldn’t find it.”
“Are you sure, maybe you missed it? Its not that big.” Celeste suggested.
Brody pushed the big box toward them. “Look for yourself. These are the only items back there from the Finch case.”
Jolene frowned at the box. “That doesn’t seem like nearly as many as items as were on the list.”
“Could some of the items have been filed away somewhere else … or returned to the family?” Morgan knelt down beside the box and started sifting through the items.
“Anything is possible.” He glanced behind him then leaned in toward the sisters and lowered his voice. “The fire happened right as Overton was taking over from the old Sheriff. That was before my time, but I heard things weren’t run very well at first and there were a lot of slip-ups. These items might have been a casualty of that. Some of the chain of evidence records seem to be missing, so I can’t tell where anything went.”
Fiona’s lips pressed together. “Why did you need evidence from the fire, anyway?”
“It seems the fire was thought to be suspicious,” Brody said. “Near as I can tell, it was eventually ruled an accident. So, by rights, the family could have claimed all this stuff and taken int back. But since the records are all screwed up, I don’t know what really happened.”
“If the family did take it back, why is this box still here?” Morgan wondered.
Brody shrugged. "Like I said, it seems like things weren't run properly back then, so maybe they didn't give the family everything or maybe the family never got it back and the rest of it got lost somewhere."
Jolene turned to her sisters in frustration. “So, now what?”
Morgan stood up. “Well, It’s definitely not in there. I think there’s only one hope of finding out where it is. We need to talk to Thaddeus Finch.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
&
nbsp; Fiona drove the TrailBlazer to the nursing home with Jolene riding shotgun.
“Hey, I have an idea.” Jolene fiddled with her phone. “Maybe the pestle did get returned to the Finches and it made its way to the museum and then was stolen in the break-in the other day.”
“It could be,” Celeste said. “I bet Finch would know if it was.”
“Even better,” Jolene said. “I can just look at the list of items from my email.”
“Is it on there?” Celeste asked.
Jolene scanned the list with her finger. “No.”
“Oh. Well, at least we still have Finch to talk to.” Celeste turned to Morgan. “Shouldn’t we tell Luke that we took a detour? He’s expecting us to come right home after the police station.”
Morgan’s lips tightened. “We probably should, but he won’t be happy. I turned my phone off at the dig and it won’t take long to talk to Finch. I’ll turn it on and give him an update when we leave.”
Fiona pulled into a parking spot and everyone jumped out. They rushed into the lobby. Fiona started to turn down the hallway that led to Finch’s room, but the look on the nurse's face at the receptionist station gave her pause.
“Hi, girls … I’m so sorry for your loss,” the nurse said softly.
Fiona’s brows snapped together. “Loss? What do you mean?”
The nurse looked startled. “Why, you were friends of Mr. Finch, right?”
“Were? Did something happen to him?”
“Oh, dear.” The nurse’s hands fluttered to her throat. “I thought you knew. “Mr. Finch passed away just over an hour ago.”
“What?” Jolene yelled. “He’s dead?”
The nurse nodded. “Sorry. I thought you’d already been told and were here to get his things.”
“No. We came to talk to him. How could he be dead? We were just here and he seemed okay.” Fiona shook her head in disbelief. Sure, Finch had seemed a little under the weather when they were there before, but she didn’t think he was only hours from death. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. The charge nurse went to check on him and he was no longer with us.” The nurse put her hand gently on Fiona’s arm. “Don’t feel bad, it was his time. He passed peacefully in his sleep, it seems.”
“It seems?”
“Well, no one was actually with him, of course, but he was lying in bed and looked peaceful when he was found.”
“What about his personal aide?” Jolene asked. “Wasn’t she there?”
“Personal aide?” The nurse frowned. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“What was her name?” Morgan screwed up her face. “Wendy! The girl with the long, strawberry blonde hair.”
The nurse gave her a puzzled look. “You must be confused. We don’t have anyone with long, strawberry blonde hair here and besides, none of the patients have personal aides.”
Panic bloomed in Fiona’s chest. Wendy was a fraud? If so, who was she and why pretend to be Finch’s health aide? Did she have something to do with Finch’s death? And did that have something to do with the pestle? A quick glance at her sisters told her they were asking themselves the same questions.
“Okay, thanks,” Morgan said to the nurse, then to her sisters, “Let’s go. There’s nothing we can do here.”
Fiona’s shoulders slumped as they walked to the car. “What do we do now?”
“I’m not sure.” Morgan got into the driver’s seat and the rest of them piled in. “We need to track down this Wendy impostor.”
“This is getting weird,” Jolene said. “You don’t think Finch met with foul play, do you?”
“I don’t know,” Morgan started the car then sat there worrying her bottom lip as she let the car idle. “It’s all very suspicious. What was Wendy doing in Finch’s room? And why pretend she was his private aide?”
“And what did she really want when she showed up at our shop?” Fiona added.
“Yeah, that can’t be a coincidence,” Morgan said. “I just wish—“
“There she is!” Celeste yelled, pointing to a lime green Kia that sped out from behind the building past them, a mane of long, strawberry blonde hair flying out the window.
“Let’s follow her!” Jolene shouted. But Morgan didn’t need to be told—she’d already jammed the car into gear and had the pedal floored in pursuit.
“Where is she going?” Celeste asked as Morgan dodged Main Street traffic, which was mercifully scant due to it being the off-season.
Looks like she’s headed down Thurgood Road,” Jolene said.
“I think she’s going to the Finch farm,” Fiona added.
“Damn it!” Morgan laid on the horn as a tractor pulled out in front of them, slowing them to a crawl.
“What is a tractor doing out in November?” Celeste asked.
“It’s Nelson Brown, getting ready for his winter hay rides.” Jolene rolled down her window and leaned her upper body out. “Nelson, pull over. We need to get by!”
Nelson pulled to the right and they swerved past him.
“Darn, it’s too late. She’s gone.” Fiona's heart sank. She squinted at the empty road in front of them, searching for a glimpse of the Kia.
“That’s okay. I just know that she’s going to the Finch farm.” Morgan turned down the road that led to the farm. “I feel it in my bones.”
She took the road as fast as she could, slowing down only enough to navigate the hairpin turn without going off the road.
“There’s her car!” Jolene pointed toward the lime green Kia sitting next to the Finch farm. Morgan pulled in beside it, but it was empty and there was no sign of its driver.
“Where did she go? Is she in the house?” Fiona asked as they piled out of the TrailBlazer and surrounded the Kia.
“It looks like she went this way.” Jolene pointed to fresh tracks in the snow that led out across the field toward the cemetery.
“The cemetery?” Morgan started following the tracks. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised."
The snow wasn’t very deep, only about an inch, but Fiona was glad she had worn her heavy boots as she jogged up to the graveyard behind her sisters.
As they drew closer to the graveyard, Fiona scanned the outline of the familiar shapes of the stones, looking for the distinctive silhouette of a person, but there was no one to be seen.
“Where is she?” Celeste shaded her eyes with her hand. “Is she hiding behind one of them?”
They mounted the steps to the graveyard and spread out, walking slowly, each of them looking behind the stones.
“Look!” Jolene pointed toward the back of the cemetery where the mausoleum sat, silent and cold, just as it had on their previous trips … except this time, one of the doors yawned open.
A cold chill skittered up Fiona’s spine as she stared at the black interior beyond the door. “Do you think she’s in there?”
Morgan shrugged. “I don’t know what the heck she would be doing in there, but my gut tells me we better check it out.”
“Wait,” Jolene cautioned. “She could be leading us on a wild goose chase. She’s probably partnered up with Bly. This could be a trap.”
Morgan paused. “It could be, but if so, all the more reason to get in there. She knows something about the pestle. I can feel it.”
“But we might not be able to defend ourselves…” Jolene looked down at her hands.
“Well, I still have my killer karate moves,” Celeste said.
“Plus we have our amulets,” Morgan added.
Fiona fingered her amulet. The amulets and mica refractor would help them with the defensive maneuvers of deflecting any energy headed their way, but without Jolene, their hopes of mounting an offensive paranormal attack were nil. And she doubted they could win with only defensive moves.
If only I could get my act together, I might be able to help defend us. Otherwise, we might need help, she thought, then out loud, she said, “Maybe we should tell Luke. He can send the guys to help us out.”<
br />
Morgan made a face, then turned toward the mausoleum. “There’s no time for that. I’m going in.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Fiona stood in the doorway to the mausoleum while her eyes adjusted to the lack of light.
“This is a lot bigger than I thought,” Celeste said.
Fiona could see she was right. The room itself was much larger than it appeared from the outside and it looked to have short corridors or niches that sloped downward in all four corners. She wondered how far underground it went … and hoped they wouldn’t have to find out.
“Look!” Jolene pointed to the floor and Fiona recognized a trail of Black Crow licorices.
“Swain?” Morgan’s forehead creased. “What is he doing here?”
“He double-crossed us!” Jolene said.
“No, he wouldn’t … would he?” Images of Swain’s mother laying ill at their house flitted through Fiona’s mind. Swain obviously cared deeply about his mom. Would he double-cross them when his mother was in their care?
“I have no idea.” Morgan stepped further inside. “This whole case is getting weird.”
Fiona and her sisters followed Morgan into the damp interior. Fiona’s eyes were pretty well adjusted now and she could see copper plaques on the walls, their faces tinged with green from age. The smell of damp earth and decaying leaves tickled her nostrils. She stifled a sneeze.
“What now?” Celeste whispered.
“I guess we’ll start over there.” Morgan pointed to an opening on the north end and they shuffled their way toward it.
Creak!
Fiona whirled around, her heart thudding against her ribcage. The door swung inward behind them, partially blocking the light. When it swung out again, a dark figure blocked the entry.
“Looking for this?” The figure stepped out of the shadow and Fiona could see he was holding the malachite pestle. Her eyes went from the pestle to his face. Her breath caught in her throat. In the doorway stood one of her least favorite people—Sheriff Overton.
A Grave Mistake Page 13