Mulch Ado about Murder

by Edith Maxwell

  Chapter 23

  She stared at the beads. Carlos must have dropped the rosary last night. Yes. After Pete had told him he could put his hands down, Carlos had patted his pocket and looked alarmed that something wasn’t in there. He must have realized he’d dropped the beads outside. But Pete had already caught him. What would be so fearful about knowing he’d left his possession out here? Or maybe he needed the beads for comforting prayer and supplication in stressful times. Being nabbed for trespassing pretty much qualified as stressful.

  Cam pressed the police department number and told them what she’d found. She added that she hadn’t touched the rosary and that she’d be home for the next two hours if someone wanted to pick it up. She headed back to her weeding. The day was warming up, but a brisk breeze held the promise of rain later. Clouds scudded by like teenagers in a hurry to get to the beach to the east.

  An hour later, she’d just returned the tools to the barn when a car door clunked shut in her driveway. By the time she arrived at the wide barn door, Ivan strode toward her.

  “Good morning, Detective,” Cam said, wiping her hands on her legs to brush off the dirt.

  “Can’t say it’s a particularly good one.” He grimaced. His eyes looked tired, and dark patches showed under them, in contrast with his customary crisp slacks and shirt, and his always neat hair. “You found a piece of evidence, I hear?”

  “I did,” she said. “Follow me. I’m pretty sure Carlos Griffith dropped it last night. You heard about Pete catching him, right?” Cam asked as she led him to the house and around to the corner where she’d found the beads.

  “Detective Pappas filled me in, yes. We questioned Mr. Griffith for quite some time last night, but let him go on his own recognizance.”

  “Was he the man Nicole Kingsbury had the affair with?” Cam asked.

  “Apparently. As you must know, that’s not a crime we can prosecute, though.”

  “Do you think he murdered her?”

  “We’re not discussing that, Ms. Flaherty.”

  “Well, did Carlos at least say why he was snooping around here?”

  “He did not enlighten us, no. Will you be pressing charges against him for the intrusion onto your property?”

  “I don’t know. Should I?”

  Ivan let out a noisy sigh. “Perhaps you should consult with your lawyer about that.”

  They rounded the corner to the side, and Cam halted. “Right there. Half hidden by those leaves.” She pointed.

  Ivan snapped a couple of pictures with a small camera before lifting the rosary with the end of a pencil. “Hmm. Looks familiar.” He turned it without touching it.

  “I think it’s identical to the one Nicole was holding,” Cam said. “Except this one isn’t missing any beads.”

  “I think you’re right.” He pulled out a paper evidence bag and slid in the rosary. “You didn’t find anything else?” He blinked as he regarded Cam.

  “No, but you’re welcome to search. Did Pete also tell you what Carlos said last night?”

  “That he never hurt her physically? Yes, he did.” He cleared his throat. “Thank you for the tip about Mr. Brunelle’s license plate and car model, by the way.”

  “You’re welcome. Did you find him?”

  “We were able to locate him and Ms. Flores last evening.”

  “Do you think he killed his ex-wife?” Cam knew she was asking too many questions, but she couldn’t help herself. And so far Ivan was actually answering, even though he’d said he wasn’t going to discuss the murder.

  He cocked his head. “I will not be sharing our lines of investigation with you, Ms. Flaherty. That said, Mr. Brunelle and Ms. Flores are coming in to be interviewed this morning.” He glanced at his watch and groaned. “In twenty minutes, as a matter of fact. I have to get back.”

  “What about Orson Page, the hydroponics guy?”

  Ivan rubbed his forehead. “Working on that. Listen, I’ll send someone else out here to do a more thorough search. But it might not be for a while. This blasted parade and the holiday are making a mess of officers’ availability.”

  “No problem. They can come any time, and even if I’m not here. We’re going to the parade, too.” Her trip to the greenhouse last night popped up in her mind. “Did you also get the thing that showed up in the greenhouse last night? My dad said it might be a tourniquet.”

  “Yes.” Ivan tapped one hand on the side of his thigh like he was eager to leave.

  “Do you think Nicole was a drug addict?” Cam asked.

  “We’re looking into all angles, Ms. Flaherty.” Ivan turned to go.

  “Hey, good luck with the case,” Cam called.

  He raised a hand in thanks as he hurried away. At the same time Cam’s phone buzzed. She checked it to see Jake’s name and number on caller ID. She raised her eyebrows. He was up early for a chef.

  “Good morning,” she said after connecting.

  “Got your text too late to call,” he said in his deep voice. “You want to know more about Griffith? Like what he usually orders for dinner, or?”

  “No, not that.” Cam laughed. “It’s just that he was here snooping around my barn last night.”

  She heard his sharp intake of breath.

  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Jake blurted.

  “Not at all. Don’t worry. The police dealt with him. I can’t figure out why he was here, though.”

  “Why in the world would he be?”

  “There’s something you don’t know. A local woman was murdered in Westbury last week—”

  “I know,” Jake said. “I saw it on the news.”

  “Carlos apparently had an affair with the victim.”

  “Really? Interesting. I have picked up on some tension between him and his wife since I’ve been back.”

  “Huh. The affair makes him involved in the murder case. And I was selling seedlings to the woman who was killed. In fact, I found her body. So I’m kind of involved, too.” She’d leave it at that. It’d be too messy to explain why Deb was also part of it all.

  “That’s terrible,” Jake said. “I mean that you found the dead woman. Do the police think Griffith killed her?”

  “I don’t know what they think. I just wondered if you knew anything else about him that could help me understand why he was on my property last night. He wouldn’t say.”

  “I can’t help. I wish I could. I think he’s in insurance, and I know he wears a crucifix on a chain around his neck. I’m usually too busy to talk much.”

  Cam was about to thank him and say good-bye when she flashed on the note about Fresh Page herbs she’d seen on the menu at Jake’s restaurant. “Jake, what do you know about the guy who owns Fresh Page Farm, Orson Page?”

  “Why? Jealous of the competition?” Jake laughed.

  “No, that’s not why I asked.”

  “Listen, Cam, I’m still committed to buying your stuff whenever you have enough ready to bring me.”

  “And I’m glad you still want my produce. I hoped you would. No, Orson is, was, a competitor to Nicole. And I’m a bit bothered by something he said.”

  “Page seems like an honest guy. My chef brought in his herbs while I was away, and they’re good quality. The man himself is a little odd. But you know? I don’t have to live with him. I just buy what he grows.”

  Chapter 24

  By ten o’clock Cam had cleaned up and eaten a late breakfast. She now sat in the car with her parents as they drove toward town for the parade, a blue Red Sox cap on her head matching her team T-shirt.

  “What time does the parade start, Cameron?” William asked.

  “I think they set off from Maple Street at eleven sharp,” Cam said. “But we need to park and meet up with Albert and Marilyn before Main Street gets closed off. Let’s park behind the greenhouse. The lot is half hidden from the street, so maybe we’ll find a spot.” Albert had called Cam’s cell while she was weeding and arranged that he and Marilyn would meet up with Cam and her parent
s to watch the parade together.

  “You want to be that close to where murder was committed, Cam?” Her mother, this time in the passenger seat, peered around into the back.

  “Mom, a year ago a guy was killed in my own hoophouse. It’s not like murder is catching.” Or was it? This was the fifth violent death in a year Cam had been associated with in one way or another.

  “Whatever,” Deb said, but she didn’t sound convinced.

  They continued down Bachelor Street, passing gardens featuring rhododendrons in full, glorious blooms of light fuchsia and deep magenta, rows of purple bearded irises, and spirea bushes with their snowy cascades of blossoms. Cam never had time to cultivate a flower garden in the spring. Vegetables always took precedence. Luckily these flower-loving homeowners provided a visual treat for her every time she went into town.

  “Turn left onto Main Street, Daddy.”

  “I remember the way, sweetheart. We went to the greenhouse just last night.”

  They swung left. The sidewalks were already filling up with residents in lawn chairs. Little kids holding American flags perched on the curbs, and bands of teenagers prowled here and there. A man in a tall Uncle Sam hat wheeled a cart full of flags, hats, cotton candy, and popcorn along the edge of the road.

  “Where are we meeting Albert?” Deb asked.

  “In front of Sim’s shop. She said she’d rope off an area for us to sit but that she’d already rented out all the parking spaces.”

  “She won’t be watching, too?” William asked.

  “She’s driving her antique truck in the parade. There, I see them.” Sure enough, Albert and Marilyn already sat in prime viewing position, Albert in his wheelchair and Marilyn on the seat of her fancy red walker with a wide straw hat shading her face. Albert had had his foot amputated due to his diabetes several years earlier, which was why he’d had to stop farming. Cam lowered her window and waved as they passed. “Be with you in a minute,” she called.

  Her father pulled into the drive between the greenhouse and the insurance company where Helen and Carlos worked, and found a spot in the back. Rudin’s rental convertible was parked near the house, today with its top up. Rudin and Geneva must have parked here and walked the short distance to the police station.

  “See that?” William asked, pointing to the convertible.

  “Ivan told me earlier that he was going to be interviewing them both this morning at the station.”

  Deb didn’t comment. She climbed out of the car and closed her door with a touch more force than necessary. William exchanged a glance with Cam. He made his own way out, opened the trunk of the rental, and extracted their three lawn chairs.

  When Cam exited the car she sniffed the unusually warm and muggy air. Beyond the aromas of people, popcorn, and a fragrant flower blooming somewhere, she detected the unmistakable smell of a rain cloud. This weather reminded her more of July than the end of spring. She scanned the sky. With any luck the rain would hold off for a couple of hours.

  “Shall we cross?” Deb asked.

  They made their way across Main Street to Albert and Marilyn, and exchanged greetings and kisses.

  “Excited, Cammie?” Albert asked Cam. His green John Deere cap was pushed up on his forehead.

  “Sure. Who doesn’t love a good parade?” Cam smiled at him. She’d always found the sound of marching bands stirring despite the militaristic association. She pulled her chair open and set it next to Albert. William and Deb did the same on the other side of Marilyn.

  Marilyn reached into a bag and pulled out a pink box of donut holes. “Snack, anybody?” she offered.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” William said, reaching in and then pulling out three of the sugary orbs.

  Deb shook her head. “No, thanks. I’ve been eating too much on this vacation as it is.”

  Cam took the box and found two chocolate donut holes, her favorites. “Thanks. I have a big weakness for donuts in any form.”

  “I wish I could,” Albert said. “But with diabetes it’s a major no-no.”

  “I’ll have one for you, dear.” Marilyn smiled as she selected one covered in powdered sugar. As soon as she bit into it, the sugar drifted onto the royal blue sweatshirt she wore over a red polo shirt. She laughed and brushed it off. “Can’t take me anywhere.”

  Albert leaned toward Cam. “Any news on the murder?” His blue eyes blinked with interest.

  Alexandra and her sister strolled up, one blond, one dark haired. “Murder, you say?” Alexandra asked.

  Cam greeted both of them and introduced the sisters to her parents and to Marilyn.

  “Good news, Cam,” Alexandra said. “DJ is coming home tomorrow.” Her cheeks pinkened. She and DJ, a thoughtful and resourceful guy about Alexandra’s age, had been seeing each other before he’d left at the beginning of March for a months-long meditation retreat.

  “That’s awesome,” Cam said. “It hasn’t been three months, though, has it?”

  “No. He decided two and a half were enough. Plus, he has a job with his brother waiting for him here. So how’s the murder case going?” Alexandra asked. “You got it solved yet, Cam?”

  Deb frowned at the tall, young woman but didn’t say anything.

  “Not exactly. Pete caught a guy snooping around my barn last night, but he wasn’t armed. He was a, uh, friend of the victim’s.”

  “Did you call the authorities?” Albert slapped his knee. “Of course, Peter Pappas is an authority. That was a silly question.”

  “Yes, he called it in and they took Carlos away.”

  “You don’t mean Carlos Griffith, do you?” Marilyn twisted a little to face Albert and Cam.

  “I do,” Cam said

  “I couldn’t help but overhear,” Marilyn said. “Carlos is my insurance man. Does excellent work. Always prompt, and honest as far as I can make out. He prays a lot, but you can’t really go wrong doing that in my book.”

  “Are you a Catholic, too, Marilyn?” Cam asked. She’d never talked religion with Albert’s sweetheart.

  Marilyn laughed. “No dear, not at all. If anything I’m a lapsed Presbyterian. I’m a Christian, certainly, but I haven’t found any church that suits my needs. Except . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “Tell her about those Quakers, honey,” Albert urged.

  “I went across the river to the Friends church in Amesbury last week. Well, they call it a Meeting, more so. I’ll tell you, sitting in silence with like-minded folks suited me. And it’s a lovely historic building. I think I’ll be going back. Maybe even get Albert here to come with me.”

  Albert beamed fondly at Marilyn. “I might just do that.”

  In the distance from the west came the thrumming of drums followed by the sound of horn instruments beginning a tune. A siren whooped into action.

  “It’s starting,” William exclaimed. He checked his watch. “Eleven o’clock, right on time.

  Alexandra fist-pumped the sky. “Love me a good parade. Catch you all later. We’re meeting some friends.” The two sisters hurried away down the sidewalk.

  Cam looked up and down the wide street. The chatter quieted, and most faces turned toward the west end of town. A preschool-age girl marched in place next to her parents, lifting her knees high and waving her little flag above her head in time with her steps.

  Glancing to her left, Cam saw her parents, who sat holding hands, chatting quietly. Across the street, though, two people walked along ignoring the entire spectacle. Rudin and Geneva, the latter in a fashionable white sun hat and matching dress, hurried away from the police station toward the greenhouse. They wove their way behind the crowds at the edge of the road and vanished behind a group of tall teenage boys.

  * * *

  The grand marshal, Westbury’s oldest veteran, had led the parade driven in a convertible, waving a wizened hand. He was followed by the three selectmen, one of whom was a woman. A color guard of older vets followed carrying flags in belt holders. Cam was surprised to see her new subscriber S
ue Biellik as the only woman among them, her hair peeking out from under her military hat.

  “Sue!” Cam called, waving.

  Sue glanced over, smiled and saluted with her free hand, then marched along. A collection of younger, fatigues-wearing veterans in their twenties and thirties came after the color guard. A farm wagon drawn by draft horses came next, with children in overalls throwing candy out from the wagon and a woman playing a ukulele atop a hay bale.

  Now four women on horses approached, one of them a tall, congenial real estate agent with a ready smile whom Cam had seen around town. Their blue polo shirts and light pants all matched, and their helmets were decorated with stars. Red, white, and blue streamers flowed from the horses’ manes and tails.

  When the equestrians on their steeds passed, Rudin and Geneva reappeared across the way. He was gesturing with his hand, his face even redder than it had been at the brewery. Geneva shook her head with an angry movement. Cam checked, but her parents didn’t seem to have seen the couple. Rudin and Geneva disappeared behind the crowd again.

  After the equestrians came the high school marching band in green and white uniforms, playing the “Marine’s Hymn.” William sang along, “From the halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli.” Albert joined him, tapping his remaining foot. Deb rolled her eyes as she smiled indulgently.

  The color and noise of the parade couldn’t quite divert Cam’s thoughts. Where had Rudin and Geneva gone? What were they arguing about? Something Ivan had said to them, probably, since they’d come from the police station.

  “Look, I see Ellie.” Albert pointed.

  Sure enough, to the side of a dozen little girls in blue vests walked Ellie in a polo shirt and khakis with her green Girl Scout sash diagonally across her chest. Three girls in front of the group carried a banner reading WESTBURY DAISY SCOUTS. A woman with light brown hair and a big smile walked on the other side from Ellie wearing a green polka-dotted Girl Scout scarf knotted around her neck.