Although the thought started as a joke, the mental image of a doll stuck with pins flashed uneasiness through him. What if someone had made a straw figure of Andrew and stabbed it with pins. Could that have caused his death? Someone might have murdered Andrew without laying a finger on him.
Flexing his shoulders to shrug off his discomfort, Todd backed away from the display. The little corn people suddenly looked sinister. He should find out who the doll maker was and ask if they'd ever made an Andrew doll.
Kelvin walked to the shop door with the gossiping woman and offered to carry her shopping down the street. Todd ducked behind a shelf as Kelvin turned and scanned the shop, then closed the door, the bell jangling. The lock clicked and Todd froze. He'd been shut in! Panic flashed through him, then faded. This was an opportunity. He headed for the checkout, keeping an eye on the door to make sure nobody outside saw him.
Heart pounding, he ducked behind the counter and shuffled through some heaps of mail and documents on the shelves beneath. A letter from a credit card company addressed to Lieutenant Kelvin Marks caught Todd's eye. So he'd been in the military. Did that mean he was used to killing people? The letter said that Kelvin had reported his credit card stolen and four fraudulent online Internet purchases taken from his account. Then Kelvin had changed his mind and told them a member of his family had used the card.
At the sound of voices outside, Todd shoved everything back on the shelf, crept out from behind the counter and dashed to the far end of the shop. The door opened and Kelvin came in. Sweat prickled Todd's skin. Now he had to get out without being seen.
He moved down the aisle closest to the door. Kelvin was back behind the counter flipping over the pages of a newspaper. Todd thought about waiting until somebody came in to distract Kelvin, but he really just wanted to get out of the shop now. The door stood wide. All he had to do was dash five feet and he'd be on the sidewalk. The moment he stepped out from behind the shelving Kelvin's head shot up and he fixed Todd with an accusing glare.
"What the hell are you doing in here?"
Todd froze. "I was trapped. It's not my fault. You locked me in."
Kelvin was around the counter and heading towards him before he could say more. He wanted to run, but there was no point. Kelvin would just catch up with him later when he went home.
"What did you steal?"
"Nothing." Todd stepped back, keeping some distance between them. "I came in to buy presents for my mum and sister. That's all."
"Like hell it is! You're a troublemaker. Why're you really here?"
Todd grabbed a breath and blurted, "I wanted to tell Mrs. Bishop that I'm sorry about Andrew."
Kelvin paused and his gaze raked over Todd. "Yeah, well we don't need your interference. You've caused me enough grief. Get lost, Hunter. I don't want to see you in here again."
Chapter Six
Todd was in no hurry to return home. Grandpa was probably still annoyed after their argument, and Kelvin was bound to complain about him. That would make Grandpa even madder.
Todd gazed up the road towards the massive oak tree on the corner and considered exploring that end of the village. Although he couldn't see the two guys who often hung out there, he imagined them skulking behind the huge tree trunk waiting to jump on him. He wanted to speak with them, ask them if they'd been in the woods and seen anything on the night Andrew died. He struggled with himself, wanting the information but not wanting the confrontation. Disgusted with his cowardice, he stomped across the road and returned to the art gallery.
Picasso had deserted his bed and was back on the step, sunning himself. He didn't bother to get up, just thumped his tail on the ground as Todd patted him.
"All right," Todd called as he walked inside.
"Hey, Sherlock Holmes. What you find out?"
"Mrs. Bishop wasn't there." Todd went through to the studio and dropped into the ratty armchair. Shaun continued to paint. "Kelvin accidentally locked me in the shop. He was furious when he came back and found me."
Shaun paused in mid brushstroke. "He kick your ass out into the street?"
"Sort of." Todd put his feet up on the windowsill. "While I was locked in, I got a look at some of his letters. One was addressed to Lieutenant Marks. He must have been in the forces."
"Yeah, paratroopers. He was in Iraq."
Todd sat up and stared at Shaun."You didn't tell me."
"You didn't ask."
"Well duh, didn't you think the fact he's a trained killer was important?" Todd dragged in a calming breath. Getting angry with Shaun wouldn't help.
"Don't get too excited. The police will know he's ex-military. It's not a secret."
Todd flopped back into the seat. "The police and military probably stick together. Protect each other."
Shaun cut him a sideways glance. "So this is some big conspiracy now?"
"I read a letter about Kelvin's credit card. Sounds like someone in the family used it to buy stuff on the Internet without his permission. Grandpa told me Kelvin caught Andrew on the computer the night he died. That gives Kelvin a motive, doesn't it? Andrew wasn't just under his feet and causing trouble, he was stealing his money as well."
"People don't usually kill kids for stealing stuff. Not in this country, anyway."
Picasso wandered in and rubbed his head beneath Todd's outstretched hand. He stroked behind the dog's ears while he contemplated the case against Kelvin. Shaun was right; spoken aloud, Kelvin's motive sounded weak. But Todd knew how mad Philippe got at him for being around when he wanted time alone with Mum. Inside Todd's head, Kelvin's motive felt stronger.
"There were these creepy corn dolls for sale in the gift shop. A couple looked like Kelvin and Mrs. Bishop. The sign said they're made locally. Any idea who makes them?"
"You mean like this?" Shaun got up and dug around on a shelf full of junk. "Ta da!" He held up a corn doll exactly like the ones from the shop, except this one had tiny plaited wool dreadlocks and a paint-stained shirt. He tossed it to Todd. "Bet you can't guess who made it."
"I hardly know anyone in the village."
"You know this person. Think long golden hair and even longer legs."
"Marigold?"
"Got it in one. She and her mother make craft stuff and sell it locally. Marigold specializes in personalizing the dolls. She's good at it."
Todd turned the doll over, examining the way it had been made to look like Shaun. There was a spooky resemblance. "Doesn't this creep you out?"
Shaun shrugged before sitting down at his easel again. "Sort of, I guess. Never really thought about it much."
"Reminds me of a voodoo doll." Todd held up the effigy and mimicked twisting its head off.
"Hey!" Shaun shot out of his seat and snatched the doll from Todd's hands.
Todd chuckled while Shaun straightened the figure's head and clothes. "I'm going to hide it from you."
"Got any pins?" Todd asked.
"Don't you dare. I'll get Marigold to make one of you, then I'll hold it hostage."
Todd sobered at the thought of a doll in his image. The idea was disturbing. "If she makes one of me, I'll get rid of it."
"Yeah, how? Toss it in the ocean? Burn it? Pull it to pieces? Give it to Casso to chew?" What might happen if he damaged the doll left Todd a little breathless with shock. Shaun laughed. "Why d'you think mine's still up on the shelf? I don't believe in all that hokum stuff, but I'm not willing to take the chance." He gave Todd a narrow look. "Especially since Ruby Turpin's a witch."
Todd swallowed. "I wonder if Marigold made a doll of Andrew."
"I bet she did. She makes dolls for everyone." Shaun stared into the distance thoughtfully. "Have you talked to her again since you saw her on the beach your first day?"
Todd shook his head.
"Go talk to her, then. Be nice, though. Don't interrogate her."
"I don't think she'd let me interrogate her even if I wanted to."
Shaun laughed. "No. Guess not."
Todd stared
at Shaun as he bent and loaded his brush with paint from the palette. Should he tell Shaun about spotting Marigold in the woods on the morning he found Andrew?
"I've seen a couple of guys a bit older than me hanging around the village. Any idea who they are?"
"Nope." Shaun angled his head to examine his painting. "Before you arrived, the only teenagers in the village were Marigold and Andrew. Young people don't stay around here. There's a campsite about a mile up the road, though. Maybe the boys you saw are vacationers."
That meant they would only be around for a couple of weeks. Todd breathed a sigh of relief. But he'd have to hurry up and ask them if they'd seen Andrew on the night he died.
***
Todd feared he might have to knock on the Turpins' door to find Marigold, but when he headed up the coast path the following day he found her lying on a patch of wiry grass on the cliff top, not far from the village.
Even though he walked silently along the stony path, she turned her head as he approached. "Hi, foxy boy."
"The name's Todd."
"Todd means fox. You're a boy; or at least I think you are." She grinned mischievously. "Fox plus boy equals foxy boy."
Todd decided to let the name thing drop. She enjoyed teasing him. If he made a fuss, she'd only tease him more. "You're obviously hard at work this morning."
"Very. I've identified all sorts of wild and wonderful things floating in the sky."
Glancing up, Todd frowned at the clouds. Half of what she said made no sense. But then he'd never understood girls. He hoped she would ask him about the stone skimming so he could tell her he'd matched her total. He didn't want to bring it up himself and sound like he was boasting.
"Lie down with me."
Todd's gaze flew to her slender body stretched out on the grass. His heart gave a strange jolt.
"Tell me what you see in the clouds."
"Nah." Todd pushed his hands in his back pockets, wandered closer to the cliff's edge, and stared at the waves crashing over the rocks below. "Bad news about Andrew, isn't it?"
When Marigold didn't answer, he glanced back at her. She pushed up on an elbow and patted the grass beside her.
Todd pretended not to understand.
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I'm not talking to you until you lie down."
It looked like he would have to comply if he wanted any answers. With a strange nervous flutter in his chest, he stretched out on the grass and cushioned his head on his arms. "I'm lying. Happy?"
She settled back and copied his position. "Tell me what you see in the sky."
"Clouds." His answer would annoy her, but he found he liked bugging her.
"Use your imagination."
Staring at the clouds, which resembled oyster mushroom fungus sprouting from the blue sky, he narrowed his eyes and searched for a recognizable shape. What could be a nose, two ears and a lolling tongue stood out. "Picasso." He pointed at the shape.
Marigold laughed. "I love Shaun's old dog. He'd such a softy."
At last, something they agreed on. Todd turned his head and smiled at her, just as she smiled at him. He snatched a breath and quickly looked back at the clouds. This wasn't what he wanted to talk about. He needed to focus. "Did you know Andrew much?"
Marigold didn't answer. When he glanced at her, she was biting her lip. "I hated him." The vehemence of the softly spoken words set Todd's senses on high alert. "Mum says it's not nice to speak ill of the dead," she whispered. "But I can't change how I feel."
A prickly hum of awareness held Todd motionless with expectation. "Did he do something to upset you?"
"When he first came here in May, I caught him dropping rocks over the cliff into the fulmars' nests. He broke their eggs and tried to stone the baby birds to death." Tears filled her eyes. "It was right at the place where he fell. It's justice, sort of. He died where he killed the chicks."
A fist of ice gripped Todd's guts. Was it possible Marigold had pushed Andrew? "Did you see or hear anything the night he died," he asked softly, half afraid of her answer.
"No." She sat up and hugged her knees.
Todd sat up to join her. "Did you see anyone around the following morning?"
She plucked the petals off the marigolds on her hat. "I was helping Mum inside on Wednesday morning. We didn't know about Andrew's death until we heard the helicopter."
Marigold turned away and wiped her eyes. If she didn't care about Andrew, why was she crying? He raised a hand to comfort her, but the thin straps of her dress left the bronzed skin of her shoulders and arms bare. His fingers trembled an inch from her skin, and he snatched them back without touching her. For a few seconds he forgot what they'd been talking about, then it came back to him.
He badly wanted to ask her about the two guys he thought he'd seen her with the morning he found Andrew, but how could he do that now she'd told him she was inside helping her mum? It would sound as though he was accusing her of lying.
"Shaun showed me the corn doll you made him."
Marigold raised her head and drew in a shaky breath. "Did you like it?"
"Yes. You're good at dressing them to look like real people. I saw the ones in the gift shop that look like Kelvin and Mrs. Bishop."
She rested her chin on her knees again, running the brim of her hat through her fingers. "Mum said you told the police that Kelvin killed Andrew."
That got around the village fast. "Who told her?"
"Mrs. Bishop. Mum went to see her yesterday."
"I thought Mrs. Bishop was too upset to see anyone?"
"She talked to Mum. They're sort of friends."
Todd remembered how his mum gossiped on the phone with her friends for hours. She told them personal stuff that made him cringe. Mrs. Bishop might have confided something to Ruby Turpin. If he couldn't speak to Mrs. Bishop, maybe he could get some information from Marigold's mother.
"Where do you make the corn dolls?"
"At home."
Todd didn't like the idea of going inside the witch's cottage, but he'd brave it to find out about Andrew. "Will you show me how you make them?"
Marigold's face lit up with enthusiasm. She jumped up and slapped her hat against her leg. "Come on. Race you back."
Todd followed on her heels, watching her pale blue dress flutter around her legs. He could easily win, but it made sense to let her win and keep her happy. When they reached the front gate of Lookout Cottage, she pulled up gasping and laughing. "Beat you, foxy boy."
Her pleasure made him feel guilty for being less than honest.
Much to Todd's relief, Marigold didn't take him into the house. He followed her along a narrow cement path, sandwiched between the house and an overflowing flowerbed, which led to the back garden. She stopped outside a large shed with a lean-to against the side, full of straw bales covered in plastic sheeting.
"This is our workshop." She took a key from behind a flowerpot full of scarlet geraniums and opened the door. Along one side, three windows flooded the shed with hot beams of sunlight. Spots of dust sparkled in the air. The fresh, clean scent of straw mingled with the warm, spicy fragrance of cedar wood. The aura of the place brushed over Todd's senses like a warm breeze. There was nothing evil in here. He was certain of it.
Corn dolls in various stages of preparation stood in a line along the bench beneath the windows. Marigold pulled out a stool for him and then sat on another. "You can have a go at making one."
She withdrew the blades of two knives from a wood block and put one on the bench in front of him. "Careful, it's very sharp. The straw blunts the blades quickly, so we keep the edges keen. It makes the job easier."
Todd hefted the blade in his hand, feeling the balance. His father had always carried a couple of knives. One in a leather sheath attached to his belt, the other inside his boot. Todd often saw him use the one on his belt while he hunted or worked in the garden, but never the one hidden in his boot. He used to wonder why his dad carried the second blade.
"Watch me firs
t, then you have a go," Marigold instructed.
She cut a bunch of stalks to length, then twisted and knotted them, making it look easy. She finished by using some of the stalks to tie off and hold the doll in shape.
When Todd tried, stalks cracked, bent in the wrong place, and stuck out at strange angles, until his doll resembled a mutant hedgehog. He dropped it in disgust.
Marigold picked up his pitiful attempt. "I suppose this could be Shaun on a bad day."
Todd laughed. His frustration evaporated. "Or Grandpa. You should see his hair in the morning."
Marigold pulled on a piece of straw. Todd's whole doll unraveled and fell to pieces. They both laughed. "Don't think we'll be offering you a job," she said grinning at him.
He liked to see her laughing and smiling. He hoped no more of his questions made her sad.
Marigold pulled a huge box full of material scraps from under the bench and sorted through them. She pulled out a piece of denim and a stretchy black square of fabric. She held them up in front of him and narrowed her eyes. "This'll do."
Icy ants ran down Todd's spine. "What're you doing?"
She paused, her hand reaching for the glue pot. "Making it look like you."
Todd shook his head, trying to think how to tell her he didn't want one without offending her. He opened his mouth and closed it again when nothing came to mind.
"Are you all right, Todd?"
"I don't want one like me."
"Why not?"
"Don't take this the wrong way, but they remind me of voodoo dolls." He expected her to be mad; instead, she burst out laughing.
"Do you know anything about voodoo?"
"Course not."
"They say the effect on the victim is only due to superstition. How about I make a Todd doll, and you can put it in a model Porsche. Maybe it'll bring you good luck."
"I'd rather you didn't."
"Okay." She grinned. "I'll make a doll that looks like me." She dropped the two scraps of fabric back in the box before pulling out two more pieces. She glued a pale blue skirt and pink shirt on the doll, then finished it off with yellow wool hair and a small straw hat decorated with a tiny marigold.
Wildwood (YA Paranormal Mystery) Page 5