by Jeri Green
“I am just sick over these arrests,” Hadley said. “First Gunn. Then, Sandy.”
“You and Maggie have always been close,” Anna said.
“I know. Maggie’s worried silly. I can’t blame her. Gunn’s been a handful since the day he was born, but he’s never been into anything this serious. Poor Maggie is fit to be tied! She really is a wreck. Just a wreck. I talked to her not long ago. Bless her heart, I feel so sorry for her. I just let her talk, you know. Maggie told me that I should be glad Harry and I never had kids.”
“Hadley.”
“What is it?”
“Well,” Anna said, “you know I’m not a fan of idle gossip.”
“Gossip is never idle,” Hadley said. “It takes a warped imagination and a lot of work to make someone look totally ridiculous.”
“Spoken like a true fan,” said Anna.
“Well, nobody’s perfect. Now, spill the beans before I bust a garter. Come on, Anna. I’m dying of suspense.”
“It was the day before Bill arrested Gunn. I stepped out of the library. It was empty, and the weather was so beautiful, I decided to eat my lunch outside. Gunn and Rayna Croft were arguing. They didn’t see me. Hadley, it looked pretty intense.”
“I wonder what that was about?” Hadley said. “You know Rayna’s been helping me put this shindig together. She hasn’t seemed upset or preoccupied.”
“Gunn grabbed Rayna’s left hand,” Anna said.
“He what!”
“I saw it, Hadley,” Anna said. “Plain as day. Gunn grabbed Rayna’s left hand and shoved it in her face. Gunn raised his voice and the breeze carried it my way.”
“What did he say?” Hadley asked.
“’It’s supposed to mean something,’” Anna said, “but that’s all I overheard. Little Billy Lloyd walked up to return a book. I took him inside. I didn’t want him to witness anything bad. Gunn was furious. I don’t know what happened after that. Maybe nothing.”
“Gunn and Rayna,” Hadley said. “Knock me down with a turkey feather. Never in a million years would I have put those two together. Why, Rayna led me on to believe she was sweet on Sandy! What does all this mean?”
“Don’t jump to conclusions, Hadley,” Anna said. “It may be nothing.”
“But what if it’s true!” Hadley said. “Maggie will die. Why Gunn is only a few years older than Richie. Oh, Anna! What are we going to do?”
“What can we do? If what you think is true, and Gunn and Rayna are an item, even it Rayna’s seeing both men, it’s her business. I mean, they’re all adults. There’s nothing we can do.”
“It’s scandalous!” Hadley said. “It’s preposterous! It’s probably true. A ménage a trois! And right under our noses! Where are you going?”
“I really have to get home, Hadley. The time’s slipped by. Stanley’s sure to be through with his lodge meeting. I’ll see you, soon. And don’t forget those books.”
“I won’t. Thanks for the grocery run, Anna. See you, tomorrow.”
Hadley watched Anna drive away. Somewhere in the back of her brain a thought kept speaking to her. Over and over.
She had to figure this mess out fast. Otherwise, Maggie Miller really would die – of a broken heart.
No sooner had the dust from Anna’s tires settled than Hadley's kitchen door opened. In popped Beanie. Hadley smiled as she remembered she had asked Beanie to stop in and lend a hand with the baking if he was free.
"Hey, Bean," Hadley said. "Grab a beater and help yourself."
Hadley heard a car door slam and the kitchen door squeak open again.
“Hadley!” Maury said. “What’s Beanie doing here?”
“Beanie’s helping me with the baking for the bazaar, Maury. Rayna’s exhausted. I forbid her to come over today. She’s got too much on her plate as it is. Beanie’s standing in for her.”
“Hadley?”
“Yeah, Bean,” Hadley said.
“If we’re done, I sure would like to pet my half the cat.”
“Sure, Bean. If he’ll let you. Onus is around here somewhere where. Go see if you can call him out from under the couch or wherever he’s roosting.”
Beanie left the room
“He was licking the beaters,” Maury said.
“Of course,” Hadley said. “How else are you going to get them sparkling?”
“Hadley!”
“Oh, relax, Maury. This is the last cake I’m baking, today. He loves it. What does it hurt to let Beanie lick the batter? We used to do that when we were kids. It’s not like I’m going to put them in a burlap bag and dunk them in a pond. I intend to wash all this mess up in hot water with lots of dish detergent.”
“I’m not implying you’re nasty, Big Sister,” Maury said, “I guess I was just shocked to see a grown man licking that batter like that.”
“Beanie’s only a grown man in some ways, Maury. Since his accident, he’s often more child than adult.”
“Is he dangerous?” Maury asked.
“Beanie’s about as dangerous as a bicycle with training wheels.”
“You spoil him too much, Hadley.”
“What’s wrong with that? It’s not like that tabby I call a pet cat lets me spoil him. You have Bill. I used to have Harry. Now, Beanie’s no substitute for Harry, but if I can’t have Harry, Beanie will do. Won’t you, Beanie?” Hadley said to Beanie, who had reentered the room holding Onus in his arms.
“If you say so, Hadley,” Beanie said.
“Hadley?”
“Yeah, Bean.”
“Is it okay to watch TV?”
“Sure. You know where the remote is. Help yourself,” Hadley said as Beanie left.
“I say so,” Hadley said. “I’ve known Beanie since grade school. Folks around here tolerate him. You ever noticed how many people walk by him and act like he isn’t even there? How do you think that makes Beanie feel, Maury?”
“I guess I’ve never thought about it,” Maury said.
“Well, Beanie’s not invisible. He’s a decent, kind, simple soul. It doesn’t take much to make him happy. He works hard. He asks for nothing but a chance. So what if I buy him an ice cream cone. It does me good to do good for him, Little Sister. Keeps me from turning into an ogre like Onus.”
“I’ll try to be more considerate of Beanie whenever I see him on the street from now on.”
“Good girl, Maury. Mama would be proud,” Hadley said.
“Yes,” Maury said. “I think she would.”
With the last of the cakes out of the oven and onto the cooling rack, Hadley and Beanie got the kitchen back into some semblance of order. Maury got into her car and drove home. Hadley got Beanie and a sack off of her counter, loaded both into her car, and drove Beanie home.
She had just one more stop to make before heading home. She pulled up in front of the sheriff’s office.
“Hadley,” Bill said. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong? Is Maury all right?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Hadley said, setting a large paper sack on Bill’s desk. Hadley was on a fact-finding mission, and she’d brought her secret weapon. “Chicken salad, freshly made.”
“Hadley, it looks delicious,” Bill said.
His mouth started watering the second he smelled it.
Hadley pulled out a thermos and two cups.
“And I made all the fixings,” Hadley said. “I have pecan pound cake for dessert.”
“What do you want, Hadley,” Bill said, eyeing the sandwich like it was the Hope diamond.
“Nothing,” she said. “How’s Sandy?”
“Now, Hadley,” Bill said, “you know I can’t talk about the case.”
“I’m not asking you anything about a case. All I asked was how is Sandy?”
“Sandy’s fine,” Bill said, biting down into some of the best chicken salad he’d ever tasted. His mother couldn’t make it like this. And neither could Maury.
“Like it?” Hadley said. “I’ve been experimenting a little with the recipe.
”
“You should open a restaurant, Hadley. Seriously.”
“Nonsense. Who would I get to wait tables? Delta would never leave the Spoon.”
“You’re probably right,” Bill said.
“Bill, I was over at Rayna Croft’s the other night, and something she said just won’t leave me alone.”
“What did she say?” Bill asked.
“She wonders if Teddy’s come back.”
“Teddy Croft back in Hope Rock County!”
“Hear me out,” Hadley said. “It may not be as crazy as it sounds. Like I said, I’ve been thinking about it. Nobody knows where Teddy’s run off to, right? And there were those folks that swore they spotted him half-way across the country.
“Teddy took Junior’s death awful hard, Bill. I don’t blame him. I don’t know what kind of shape I’d have been in if I’d been in Teddy’s shoes and lost a child like that. He was never the same.”
“No,” Bill said, “Teddy never was the same man after Junior died.”
“Well, do you think he’s back?”
“I’ll tell you what I think, Hadley, “but you must swear you will never tell another living soul. Not Maury. Not anybody.”
“You think Teddy did away with himself, don’t you?” Hadley asked.
“Hadley,” Bill said, “I forget just what a smart cookie you are.”
“I thought that, too. But I’d never voice those thoughts, Bill. They are just too painful to consider. But since you feel the same way, I guess it’s okay to tell you. What bothered the stuffings out of me was the fact that nobody ever found his body.”
“Well,” Bill said, “that might not be so hard to explain. Think about it, Hadley. Nobody’s heard hide nor hair of Teddy since he disappeared. He’s fallen off the grid. These slopes have a lot of hills and hollows that don’t get eyeballed by folks. Teddy grew up here. We all did a lot of exploring when we were young. But it wasn’t an organized thing. Every kid trekked off on his own in a random direction, depending on where he lived. A kid back then knew the area he grew up in like the back of his hand. Not like today. Kids now days don’t seem too interested in doing that. What with cars and radio and television, I guess there are too many things competing for their time. The woods have lost their allure for kids, today. But if you knew of a cave, say, or some other rugged place to lose yourself, and for the sake of argument, let’s say you did away with yourself. You leave no note to clue anyone in on your plans. You just disappear. Then, there’s wild animals, remember, that would come in and do what they naturally do. Pretty soon, there’s no trace left of you.”
“And you think,” Hadley said, “that’s what happened to Teddy.”
“I think there’s a good chance that’s exactly what happened. But without evidence, it’s only a guess on my part. That’s why I must have your word that you’ll not discuss with anyone what we’ve just talked about.”
“I understand, Bill. Scout’s honor,” said Hadley.
Bill did not reveal to his sister-in-law another possibility. If Teddy Croft had returned, nobody had recognized him. In all probability, Teddy would have changed over the years. There was that plastic bottle he’d recovered under Eustian’s table.
Sandy swore on his mother’s life that he’d gone straight home from the flea market and inventoried his hobby supplies. No bottles of the cyanide solution were missing. Bill thought Sandy was telling the truth, but how could he know.
If Sandy was truthful, then somebody was trying to frame him. Simple as that. Anybody could buy that solution. It was sold over the Internet every day. Sandy had pointed that out.
Sandy had also pointed out the fact that if he really had killed Eustian, leaving the empty bottle of cyanide solution behind would be about the dumbest thing for him to go.
Sandy’s statements had a ring of truth. Only a dunce would leave behind the one piece of evidence that would put a noose around his neck. And Sandy Miller was smart.
Who left behind that plastic bottle?
Someone intent on framing Sandy Miller. Someone, like Teddy Croft?
Or, was leaving the bottle behind on purpose a mark of Sandy Miller’s genius?
These questions tied Bill up in knots. It surely looked like another night of tossing and turning and more questions than answers.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Beanie,” Hadley said. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothin’,” Beanie said. “Why?”
“Wanna go snipe hunting with me?”
“Hadley,” Beanie said, “there ain’t no such thing as snipes. They played that trick on me when I was a kid.”
“Figure of speech, Beanie,” Hadley said. “I had a long talk with Bill, today.”
“Did he arrest you, Hadley?” Beanie asked.
“No, of course not,” Hadley said. “Anyway, Bill and I talked over some things.”
“Top secret,” said Beanie.
“You might say that. Bill made a lot of sense. I’ll admit, I even thought along the same lines as he, but what if we are both wrong?”
“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” Beanie said.
“Exactly,” Hadley said.
“You got snacks?”
“Not with me, Bean, but if you come with me, I’ll be sure to pack a bunch.”
“Where we going, Hadley,” Beanie said, “to hunt snipe, I mean. No wait a minute. To hunt the things that there ain’t no such thing as. I think that’s what I mean.”
“Oh, I thought we might head over to Croft Orchard. You like to play cops and robbers, Beanie?”
“Sure, Hadley,” Beanie said. “But I don’t like to be the robbers. They always lose.”
“We’re the good guys, tonight, Bean,” Hadley said. “You and me. Like on television. You can be Tonto.”
“I can be Tonto!” Beanie said. “Tonto Bean.”
Beanie looked pensive,
“What?” Hadley asked.
“Tonto Beans and cornbread,” said Beanie. “I don’t know if I want to be that, Hadley.”
“No,” said Hadley, “that’s pinto beans and cornbread.”
“Oh,” said Beanie. “Okay, Hadley. I’ll be your Tonto Bean, then.”
“Good,” Hadley said. “I’ll pick you up at eight. Bring your pillow. It’s going to be a long night.”
“Heap long night, Kemo Sabe.”
“You said it, Tonto Bean.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Hadley picked Beanie up at eight sharp. He had his pillow. Hadley had a backseat full of snacks and a gallon jar of brewed coffee. She preferred her java piping hot, but in a pinch, cold coffee would do.
Beanie would not complain. She brought enough sugar to turn his into syrup.
She let the car coast down the road near Rayna’s house. In the darkness, the lights in Rayna’s windows looked like golden squares of warmth and hominess. Hadley rolled her windows down.
“What are we doing, Hadley?” Beanie asked.
“We’re on surveillance, Bean.”
“Who’s that?” Beanie asked. “I never heard of no Sir Valences living around here.”
“We’re watching,” Hadley said.
“Watching for what?” Beanie asked.
“Shooting stars,” Hadley said.
“Oh,” said Beanie. “Which star is named Sir Valence, Hadley?”
“That big one over there,” Hadley said, pointing to the right. “But don’t quote me on that, okay. Harry was the star gazer, not me. You want something to eat?”
“If I eat now,” Beanie said, “I’ll have a full belly. The next thing I’ll want to do is doze off. I always doze off if my belly’s full at night, Hadley.”
“Feel free to eat and snooze, Beanie.”
Beanie ate his fill. He yawned, content and satisfied.
“If you see a shooting star, will you wake me up?” Beanie asked.
“I sure will.”
Beanie fluffed his pillow and was sawing logs minutes later.
&
nbsp; Hadley pulled out Harry’s binoculars. Useless in the dark. There was a sliver of a moon. It provided some light, but not enough to distinguish much more than Rayna’s house and a few large trees.
Shoot, thought Hadley.
She would never be able to tell if Teddy Croft was lurking around. But she dare not park closer. How would she explain the fact that she and Beanie were staking out Rayna’s house?
“Morning, Hadley,” Rayna said, standing beside Hadley’s opened window. “You and Beanie get lost?”
“Ah, no,” said Hadley.
“We wuz . . .”
Beanie started to explain that they were only watching for shooting stars, but Hadley’s hand on his leg hushed him instantly. It was their signal, Hadley’s and Beanie’s, long ago agreed upon, to keep Beanie out of trouble.
“Actually, I woke up really early this morning with a hankering for a peck of apricots. I drove over here first thing, with Beanie, and realized it was way too early for me to knock on your door and ask if you were picking, today. Guess me and Beanie just settled down in the car and nodded off.”
“Why, yes, Hadley,” Rayna said. “We will be picking this morning. But why didn’t you just call?”
“Hadley’s been hanging around me too long. I rub off on folks that way,” said Beanie.
Hadley breathed a sigh of relief. Sometimes, Beanie voiced the wisdom of the ages.
“Richie should be coming back with some, shortly,” Rayna said. “Wait at the shed. He’ll take care of you.”
“Thanks,” Hadley said, driving her car to the shed as Richie was driving up with the tractor and a load of fruit.
“Hey, Hadley,” Richie said.
“I need a peck of apricots, Richie,” Hadley said.
“They’re beautiful this year. And a bumper crop, too,” Richie said.
“They are, Richie.”
Hadley handed Richie the money.
“I haven’t got the money box out of the house, yet,” Richie said. “I owe you seventy-three cents.”
“Keep it as a tip, Richie,” Hadley said.
“Thanks, Miz Pell. Save the pits. Mama does all the time. You can grow good trees from them.”