A Founders' Day Death: A Mt. Abrams Mystery (The Mt. Abrams Mysteries Book 2)

by Dee Ernst

  Sam stood as they went by to applaud. The policeman smiled and waved. Sam remained standing and clapping even as the Wyatt sisters disappeared up the hill.

  “I have never in my life seen anything like that,” he said at last. “Now what? I cannot wait.”

  “Now, we go back up to the lake for the boat races and the fishing contest. That’s when they’ll announce the House Decoration winner. This may look like a happy community celebrating together, but it’s really all about who brings home the biggest trophy.”

  I tried to help Maggie clean up, but she waved me away, so Sam and I started up the hill. Aggie Martin yelled as we passed Davis.

  “Have you seen Rita?”

  I shook my head. “Not since earlier. She was heading into the Clubhouse.”

  Aggie looked thoroughly pissed off. “Is that where she went? She just said she forgot something and took off, and I haven’t seen her since. And her parents have been sitting on our porch pretending they like me this whole time. I’m going to strangle her.”

  I started to say something, but the wail of a siren cut me off. I glanced up at Sam. He was listening.

  The siren got louder. I could almost track it as it came up Rt. 51, turned onto Blackburn, and then came up the hill, heading for the clubhouse.

  “Let’s go,” Sam said quietly.

  We hurried up the hill and headed toward the clubhouse. Something was wrong. My first thought was that someone had collapsed while pulling one of the floats up the last hill. I could see a police car and heard more sirens. Surely an ambulance was moments away.

  It was a second police car, driving past the clubhouse to the docks.

  “Stay here,” Sam muttered.

  “Seriously?” I asked, and he shook his head as I followed him, weaving in and out of the floats that had pulled over on the grass beside the beach.

  More sirens. Two policemen were keeping the growing crowd back from the beach. One officer was standing on the dock where the rowboats had been lined up in preparation for the race. Sam showed his badge, and we walked through the crowd and up to the dock.

  Sam turned to me. “I mean it. Stay here.”

  I nodded and watched as he walked up the dock, flashed his badge again, and spoke to the officer standing there. Then he went over to one of the rowboats, crouched down, and looked. He looked for what seemed to be a long while. Then he stood up and came back to me.

  “It’s Rita. She’s in one of the boats. Someone bashed her head in with something, probably an oar. Get the girls and go home. Founders’ Day is over.”

  My porch was back to normal, the fish and seaweed hastily pulled down and stuffed into plastic bags. Because all the activity at the clubhouse could be seen from my yard, that was where we gathered. There was food everywhere, brought over in hastily packed plastic containers and reheated in my kitchen.

  Marc asked if I minded if he stayed, and I told him, of course not. Tessa was a mess, and spent most of the afternoon on his lap on the couch in the living room, Boot curled at her side.

  I sat and watched the crowd that stood huddled under the trees behind the clubhouse. That was as close as anyone was allowed to get. There was an odd, unnatural quiet hanging over the lake. Death had visited Mt. Abrams before, but never on Founders’ Day. I wondered what upset people most, what had happened to poor Rita, or the fact that Founders’ Day had been so abruptly cancelled.

  Sam was at the crime scene. He was tall enough that I could track him as he moved from the dock to the clubhouse and back again. He had sent me a brief text—he was on the case.

  At one point, Sharon came up on the porch and asked for something to drink. She had been with the police, of course, and for the first time that I could remember, she did not look perfectly put together. Her face was flushed, and her makeup was streaked with sweat. Her long linen tunic was wrinkled, and one corner of the bottom was twisted as though she had been wringing her hands in the fabric. Poor Sharon—what a Founders’ Day.

  Shelly sat with me on the porch. Immediately after the body was discovered, Mike ran up to the lake, scooped up the boys, and they were now at the movies, along with probably half the children in Mt. Abrams. She was sitting, nursing a red plastic cup of beer, watching the crowd intently.

  “Do you think this has anything to do with what happened in Emma’s garden?” she asked.

  I let out a long breath. “It kinda looks that way, doesn’t it? I mean, it could just be a giant coincidence, but I doubt it.”

  “That means that maybe the body was Walt Malleck. And maybe somebody killed him and buried him there. And maybe that somebody is still around, and that’s why Rita is dead,” Maggie said. Derek was on the other side of the lake with Serif, fishing is a small cove out of sight of the clubhouse activity.

  Carol Anderson was also with us, sitting on the first step, leaning against the porch rail. “That’s a lot of maybes,” she said.

  “Where was Emma today?” I asked her.

  She glared at me. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Because, she wasn’t around,” I shot back. “Just a question.”

  Carol shook her head. “Sorry. I have no idea where she was all day. And I’m thinking what you’re thinking. She did tell about half the world yesterday that she’d wanted to kill Aggie and Rita both.”

  Shelly snorted. “Emma? Kill someone? Maybe by magic potion or by long pins stuck in a voodoo doll, but hitting someone in the head? For one thing, she’d have to have been on a chair to hit Rita on the head. Unless Rita obligingly laid down first.”

  I had to smile. “True.”

  “But, it’s a little odd, Paula Malleck being here, and finding the body, and then this happening to Rita,” Carol said.

  “But Paula’s been coming to Founders’ Day for a while now,” I said.

  We were quiet for a few minutes. Sam was in deep conversation with a group of men who had pulled up in a black car. They were all in suits, and I immediately pegged them as FBI. I quickly texted him.

  R they the Feds?

  I watched him as he pulled out his phone to glance at my message. Even from a distance, I could see the flash of his teeth as he smiled. He texted back.

  I’m working

  And you’re looking hot

  U R distracting

  Good

  He lifted his head and looked toward the porch, shook his head, and put his phone away.

  Shelly had been watching me. “What did Sam say?”

  “Nothing. He’s very much a stickler about this sort of stuff.”

  “About what sort of stuff?” Marc asked. He had come out of the house and was standing behind us, leaning against the front door jamb.

  “Official stuff. He doesn’t give too much away. How’s Tessa?”

  He shrugged. He was thin and slight, his once flaming red hair going gray. “She fell asleep. What a day. Where’s Cait?”

  “With Kyle,” I said. “Where else?”

  “What’s going to happen when she goes away?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No clue. She doesn’t talk to me, and when I ask she gets upset. I think Kyle is a very unexpected development for her, and she’s not sure what to do.”

  “Poor things,” said Carol. “Kyle is such a lovely young man. When he was just a kid, he would hang out at the library and help me out after school. He was so polite and helpful. Of course, being the geekiest boy in Mt. Abrams may have had something to do with it. I don’t ever remember him playing sports. He and Caitlyn were thick as thieves there for a while. I believe they had a secret club.”

  Marc smiled. “That sounds like Cait. She’s a big lover of the underdog.”

  “Well,” Maggie said, “Kyle’s not much of an underdog anymore. He’s cute and rich and kind and very smart. He’s almost good enough for her.”

  “Good,” Marc said. “Being the smart, geeky kid finally paid off for someone.”

  Carol stood up and stretched. “Leon was coming over tonight, but it looks like w
e’ll have to change our plans. She looked at us. “Anyone for dinner at Zeke’s?”

  Shelly shook her head. “No, thanks. Mike’s had the boys all day. His brain will be fried.”

  “Maybe Viv and I will meet you,” Maggie said. “I’m pretty sure Derek will want to stay in.”

  I shook my head. “Can’t say right now.”

  Marc looked at me. “Why don’t you come with me? It’ll be fun.”

  I opened my mouth to say something vaguely off putting, then stopped. I had pretty much challenged him to put his money where his mouth was. Was this him stepping up? Was this a date? “Sure, Marc. If Cait can watch Tessa.”

  He grinned. “I’m off to find her. I’ll ask. Should I meet you there, or pick you up?”

  Zeke’s was at the bottom of the hill, across from the railroad station, a ten-minute walk for me. “I’ll walk down with Carol and Leon.”

  He nodded, waved, and sauntered off the porch. Shelly, Carol, and I watched him turn onto Abrams Lane and disappear around the corner.

  “So, are you two having a date?” Carol asked.

  I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

  “What will Sam say?” Maggie asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  Shelly sighed. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  “I have no idea.”

  When Sam finally made his way to my front porch late in the afternoon, he looked drained. He threw himself into a wicker chair and closed his eyes. “Can I just stay here forever?”

  “Sure,” I told him. “Beer?”

  He opened his eyes and shook his head. “No, thank you. I have to go back over there.”

  “So, what happened?”

  He let out a long breath. “Whoever did this must have been desperate. She was killed just minutes before she was found. And she was killed in the clubhouse and dragged down the path and into the boat. Who would do that in broad daylight, when in any minute, dozens of people were going to round the corner and would see what was happening?” He shook his head. “If it was premeditated, I’ll be very surprised. I think someone saw an opportunity and went for it.”

  I nodded. “Rita would ordinarily not have been up here at all. She came up looking for her phone.”

  “Really?”

  I told him about Rita running by, and what she had said.

  He ran his hand through his silver-gray hair. “Yes, I passed her myself. So, she was coming up this way? That just creates more questions. Did someone follow her? Was she meeting someone? And of course, motive is a mystery. Who would want to kill her? When someone is killed, we immediately look to the spouse or partner, but Aggie never left her porch. There are dozens of witnesses.”

  “What about Emma?”

  He made a noise. “Yes, well, that’s where Martin Feltz is looking. First, a body in her garden. Now, her neighbor is dead after Emma publicly threatened to kill her.”

  “Do you know who the body is?”

  He gave me a sidelong glance. “Tentatively identified as Walter Malleck. We’re questioning his wife now.”

  “Lou was right,” I muttered.

  “About what?”

  “She said the body was probably Walter’s.”

  Sam sighed. Loudly. “You know, my first instinct as a police officer would be to be fairly suspicious of someone who could guess the identity of a body, especially when the body could have been anyone.”

  I waved a hand. “Sam, I think the idea that the body was Walter’s crossed everyone’s mind here in Mt. Abrams. After all, he disappeared without so much as a note to Paula. Didn’t take money or even his car.”

  Sam frowned. “Did she put in a missing person’s report?”

  I nodded. “I think so. But I think once she told the police he had a girlfriend, they kind of figured he went off on his own.”

  Sam shook his head. I’ll pull the old report.” He tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair. “Any idea who the girlfriend was?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. Paula insisted that it was a local girl, but when Walt left and no one from Mt. Abrams left at the same time, well, that sort of fell flat.” I looked over toward the lake. Spotlights were being set up, and I could here the rumble of a generator. “Poor Paula. She comes back to enjoy a pleasant Founders’ Day, and her husband’s body is found. How awful.”

  He nodded, as if to himself. “Yes. Indeed. I’m going to be tied up the rest of the night.”

  “It’s okay,” I told him. “Marc and I are meeting some people down at Zeke’s.” I spoke very naturally. My voice didn’t squeak or anything, but Sam still gave me a funny look.

  “You and Marc?”

  I shrugged. “And just about everyone else that was on my porch today.”

  He got up and stretched. “Okay. Have fun.”

  I stood, and he gave me a very nice kiss before setting off toward the clubhouse. I didn’t know if I was happy that he was so comfortable in our relationship that he didn’t consider Marc a threat, or a little disappointed that he wasn’t worried that my rampant sex appeal might spark something.

  I went inside and looked for something to wear.

  I had a wonderful time with Marc.

  I remembered about how, particularly in the last years of our marriage, we could barely find something to talk about besides the kids. We had planned our days around avoiding each other. When he left, I was devastated, but I had to admit, also relieved, because living with him had become exhausting.

  After so much time living with him under such stressful conditions, I had forgotten how charming he was. Funny and sarcastic and a terrific listener. We sat across from each other at one of the big tables in the corner of Zeke’s, and ate and laughed and drank beer and laughed some more.

  Leon, Carol’s date, was a very short, fairly stout man with thick horn-rimmed glasses and a wicked sense of humor. When he and Carol came in together, I choked down a snort, because they looked like Jack Spratt and his wife, but in reverse. He gazed at her all night in undisguised admiration, and she never stopped smiling.

  Maggie and Viv came in after Carol and Leon and didn’t notice the difference in height until Leon got up to go to the bathroom.

  Viv stared after him, finally blurting, “How are you two in the sack?”

  Carol smiled demurely. “Just fine. Thanks for asking.”

  The main topic was, of course, Founders’ Day. If I listened hard enough, I’m sure it would have been the main topic of conversation at every table, as Zeke’s was filled with Mt. Abrams residents who normally would have been up at the clubhouse, eating pot luck and dancing to the oldies.

  Once I told them that the body in Emma’s garden was probably Walt Malleck, Maggie and Viv started dreaming up impossible scenarios as to who might have killed Walt and why. They fluctuated between Paula knocking him out in the kitchen and dragging his body out in the middle of the night bury him, and his young lover waiting for him by the back door, bashing him with a nearby hammer when he tried to call it off. We discussed the pros and cons intensely, and then Viv would say something totally ridiculous, and we would burst into laughter. I know, we were talking murder, but remember, we were all a bit drunk.

  We didn’t talk about Rita. That was still too fresh and raw. We had been on my porch when Rita’s parents came racing up to the dock, and we watched as her mother dropped to her knees, screaming, as the body went by on a gurney.

  It was almost midnight when we left, and Marc was the only one who had a car. He offered to take us all up the hill, and we said no. Then he offered to take me up the hill, and I still said no. Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him, whispering in my ear that maybe he was a little drunk and should probably not drive at all, and why didn’t he just spend the night with me?

  I pulled away from him and shook my head. Carol and Leon were already across Rt. 51. Maggie and Viv were waiting for me, standing a discreet distance away.

  He grabbed my hand again. “Hey, El, come on. Wasn’t tonight
just like old times?”

  Yes, it was. I felt all warm and fuzzy. I could imagine us together. We had always been…combustible. I shook my head again.

  “No, Marc. Don’t. This isn’t fair.”

  His arms went around me, and he nuzzled my hair. “Fair? Come on, Ellie. Since when is life fair?” He didn’t have to stoop to kiss the back of my neck. “I’m talking about you and I tonight. What’s so bad about that?”

  I jerked away from him, turned, and started walking. Fast. Before I threw myself at him and started peeling his clothes off right in the parking lot. Before I started beating him about the head and shoulders for even suggesting we have sex. I was burning up with so many feelings I could barely see straight. But I didn’t need to. Maggie and Viv were on either side of me, and they stayed there all the way up the hill to home.

  Chapter 6

  It rained all day Sunday.

  It was the first time in memory that it rained on Founders’ Day weekend. It was almost as though the weather gods knew there would be no Open House Day and figured it was safe to let loose. There was thunder and lightning, and the rain was so fierce at times I could barely see the yellow-coated figures still working around the lake. Tents had gone up the night before, but everything and everyone looked soaking wet.

  My phone never stopped chirping. Texts came in from just about everyone I knew. Paula was still at the police station. Emma had been found and returned home, where she was being questioned. The body was Walt Malleck. He had been shot. He had been stabbed. He had been hit over the head with a blunt object. Aggie had stormed over to Emma’s and accused her of murder. Emma had cursed Aggie with one hundred years of bad luck. The police dragged Aggie away, screaming. Paula had returned from the police station and accused Emma of being Walt’s lover. Emma responded by saying that Walt’s lover had been a man, then she cursed Paula with two hundred years of bad luck. Paula had been dragged from Emma’s house, screaming. The police were putting Emma in protective custody. Aggie was taking out a restraining order. Paula had been arrested. Emma had been arrested. Aggie had been arrested.