Once among the soap displays, I inhaled deeply and smiled. The latest scent? Watermelon, of course. Glycerin soap shaped like slices of the fruit had dark “seeds” studding the bright pink. Melon facial scrub and hand soap were tucked into white wicker baskets with red-and-white-checked cloths to make a perfect summertime gift.
The bones among the vines and plump watermelons wouldn’t leave me alone. I knew, of course, the county forensics team would be working to identify the body. Was it a relative of old Doris Flanders? Or a vagrant passing through whom no one missed? Of course, there was the matter of the stranger prowling in our field in the middle of the night. This morning I’d told Jerry about what we’d seen last night. Someone must have known about the body in the field. No one would venture out in a thunderstorm to steal watermelons. Had they known about or suspected there were remains in the field? The watermelons covered nearly half an acre. Too much to search in the dark. Maybe we’d interrupted them by dashing out of the house. Jerry said we’d have to wait until a report came back from the coroner. He seemed to believe, though, that the body had been there for possibly a decade or more. We’d found a missing person, someone who’d probably been loved and missed, wept over and prayed for.
My thoughts went back to Momma and our conversation. Maybe I should buy one of those home pregnancy tests. Momma had an uncanny way of knowing things sometimes. A baby. Maybe it wasn’t just the stress of the morning that had me queasy. After all, I couldn’t eat my usual biscuits and chocolate gravy. That surely pointed to something being off.
I trudged back to the office and glanced at the calendar. A red ring glared around today’s date—I couldn’t forget tonight’s Greenburg Chamber of Commerce meeting. I slapped my forehead. Here I’d imagined Ben and me at home tonight, snug and warm inside, sheltered from the chilly rain. He would whip up a batch of his signature recipe Bongo burgers on our indoor grill, and I planned to make a salad. Instead I’d be crammed elbow-to-elbow with the elite of Greenburg. Not that Greenburg really had an elite, but somehow the entrepreneurial mystique made the title of “small business owner” a bit of a status symbol.
Until now I’d felt as if the microscope of the Greenburg business world had been focused on me, to see if Tennessee River Soaps would make it. New businesses always had growing pains. Mine sure had, especially after the horrific time last summer when Charla Thacker died in my store. Murdered, actually. But my business had sprung back and even flourished. Being accepted tonight into the Chamber of Commerce had at last proven to any naysayers that I’d made it.
The phone warbled again, and this time it was Ben. “Baby, I’m hanging in here for dinner. Honey’s got a migraine, and she’s heading home to rest before the Chamber meeting tonight.”
“Okay.” I swallowed hard. “Will you be there, too? Tonight is kind of a big night for me. It would mean a lot to have you by my side after all Tennessee River Soaps has gone through.”
“I’ll be there, but I’ll be late. Once the supper rush gets underway the night cook will take over.”
I didn’t bother asking why the night cook couldn’t come in early and take over for Honey while she got over her migraine. Ben’s loyalty spoke for itself, and I didn’t want to argue with that. “All right. I love you.”
“I love you, too. How are you doing after this morning?”
“Okay. Did they ever find Gabe?”
“Not that I know of. Jerry called awhile ago. Gabe’s wife said he brought home some medicine this morning and then left, saying he was going out about some job leads. Hasn’t come back.” Ben sighed. “Not a good situation.”
“I don’t care if he did steal from Honey. If they need help, I’d like to do something for them. Maybe we can run something out there this week. Something for Gabe’s little girl. How old is she?”
“Two, I think. They live in the mobile home park on the south side of town.”
“Well, I’ll start putting something together for them.”
“And how are you after what you found in our field this mornin’?”
A pan clattered in the background.
“I’m okay. It’s creepy, thinking about that body in the field, lying there for who knows how long. I almost feel like letting the rest of the field go wild for the rest of the summer. That and I want to find out whoever that was.” I bit back any questions about Honey and how she’d seemed to flirt today at lunch. Those questions could wait for another time.
“The authorities will get to the bottom of everything.”
“I know, but didn’t Doris Flanders have some relatives in town, or someone who might have gone missing years ago?” When Ben had bought her property last year, he’d only dealt with the lawyer and the bank.
“Maybe someone might have some ideas at the meeting tonight. A lot of old-timers will be there.”
“What? Did I hear you right? You’re not telling me to mind my own business?”
Something clanged, and then came a shout from Honey.
“Baby, I gotta go. Love you.” The phone clicked as Ben hung up.
So there I was, left with a phone in my hand and wondering. As best I knew, Doris Flanders had always grown watermelons in the sprawling field next to her home. For once I wished I’d lived out my rebel dreams way back in high school. Then maybe I’d remember some of the kids who hung out there, and if anything bad had happened. Other than stories about old Mrs. Flanders chasing a few partying teenagers off with her shotgun, I couldn’t recall a thing.
Chapter Three
Sweat burned my eyes and I blinked. When I glanced at my reflection in the mirrors covering all four walls of Shapers, Greenburg’s ladies-only gym, I had to chuckle at my intense expression. During my workout, I’d been thinking of what I could have said to Ben earlier that afternoon.
“Come home early.”
“Honey doesn’t pay you enough.”
“I wish you’d support me like you do that restaurant.”
But none of those statements sounded reasonable once I argued them away. First, I couldn’t fault Ben’s loyalty to his employer. Now that I had one employee, albeit part-time, I had to admit I appreciated Sadie’s loyalty. Also, I knew that money wasn’t a big deal to Ben. He wouldn’t work at a job that paid him a lot of money and kept him miserable. And I couldn’t say that Ben didn’t support me. He’d been one of the reasons I persisted last summer when my business’s reputation had been threatened.
Now someone’s remains had been exhumed in our watermelon patch. I clicked the button on the elliptical machine and gritted my teeth at the increased resistance. My fellow exerciser in hot pink sweats headed for the locker room. Not many had ventured out on this rainy afternoon, but I didn’t want to go home so soon. I wondered if the county team had finished their grisly business in the watermelon field.
Ben, I need you. If only today had gone according to my plans. I wanted Ben with me at the meeting tonight, since he deserved part of the credit for Tennessee River Soaps’ success.
Lord. . . I started my silent whiny prayer.
“You’ll be at the meeting tonight?” A voice jolted me out of my thoughts. Vivian Delane, nearly ten years my senior and so far winning her battle against gravity, stood next to my machine. She and her husband Curtis had opened this Shapers franchise in Greenburg, and so far the town had embraced the ladies-only gym. After all of Honey’s comfort food, we had to work it off somewhere.
“I sure will.” I smiled and tried not to glance at the mirror, comparing my squishy lumps here and there to Vivian’s sleek frame. Maybe one day, when I was her age, I’d learn her secret. Probably exercising three hours a day. “Will you and Curtis be there, too?”
“Of course.” She blinked her cat’s eyes at me. Green, with slits for pupils. Contact lenses that had been hip on teenagers. With a clink of bracelets she brushed imaginary lint from her crisp white tank top. “Wouldn’t miss it. Shapers is joining the Chamber tonight.”
“Y’all were invited to join, too. That’s
great.” I stepped from the elliptical machine. Trying to exercise and talk at the same time was useless and almost depressing with Vivian’s form in front of me. In four years I’d hit the big 4-0. If I was in half as good shape as Vivian. . . Maybe not so bad. I didn’t have her catlike litheness, but I had more of a farm girl kind of strength. Apples and oranges, I told myself. I could probably learn some workout tips from her, though.
She nodded. “I told Curtis if we were going to get anywhere in this town, we’d have to join the Chamber. He balked, but when Roland Thacker told us about the application a few months ago, I filled out the paperwork and sent it in.” Her voice rang out in the exercise room, empty except for the two of us. “Sometimes Curtis drags his feet a smidge.”
The door behind the reception counter creaked, and Curtis emerged from their office. He smoothed his hair, black peppered with gray. “Viv sort of does what she wants, and I sort of tag along. I heard you had some big news at your place today, Andromeda.” Curtis always used my full name, something that made me look twice at his low-key manner. He took his time, not because he was slow, but as if he wanted to give himself plenty of time to sit back and assess his surroundings. The first time I met him, he reminded me of someone. When I told him that, he simply said, “Oh, I get that a lot. Did you ever hear of Brent Balducci?” Evidently he was some actor back in the seventies that made a lot of TV movies, and Curtis looked like the guy did back then, retro haircut and all.
“I’m sure the news about the body will be in the paper, if it’s not all over town already.” I tried to shrug but it felt more like a shiver. The door of the gym opened, and another exerciser entered and signed in at the counter.
“Whatever happened?” Vivian glanced from her husband to me. “You look ashen.”
Ashen. Did I look that bad? I glanced at the mirror. Maybe Vivian was being a tad dramatic. I hugged my waist and told Vivian the whole tale. “And now I’m trying to figure out who that person could be.”
“Dear, that’s what the authorities will do, I’m sure.” Vivian went to her husband’s side, her movements sinuous as a cat’s. She might be slim, but I’d seen her make the resistance bands groan on one of the machines without even breaking a sweat.
“Viv, you’re right.” Curtis slid his muscular arm around his wife’s waist.
I nodded absently. The Delanes had come to Green- burg about a year ago and opened the gym. Of course they wouldn’t be up on the town history, whether it be fact or legend. “The field was a hangout for teenagers. Still is, I guess. Someone was creeping around there last night.”
I stopped myself short. They probably didn’t need, or want, to hear my story.
Curtis appeared bored then yawned and then sneezed. “Excuse me. I need a tissue. Allergies.” He darted back into the office.
Vivian sighed. “If there’s a cold flying around anywhere, Curtis will catch it. But he’s not going to miss the meeting tonight, that’s for sure. And neither will I. Your husband’s boss will be trading barbs with Roland Thacker. I’ve heard at some meetings, they’re the floor show.”
“What do you mean?”
Vivian moved closer and glanced at the exerciser who’d entered moments before and was now doing crunches in the corner. “You know Honey and Roland once had a thing?”
“Huh?” Not that I really cared to know, but the idea that Vivian had a grasp on a slice of Greenburg I didn’t know about surprised me. Sure, we might learn each other’s dirty secrets around here, but I learned a long time ago not to “tale-bear,” as Momma would put it. Love covers a multitude of sins.
“Oh, yeah. The lady who runs the Victorian Tea Room told me at lunch one time. She and Roland were really somethin’-somethin’ years ago. Seems his wife hasn’t found out. Either that or she plays dumb. And we’re the only ones who know. Well, you, too, now.”
Ugh. A wave of nausea rippled through my stomach. “Everyone has secrets, I imagine.” Now I had to figure out how to make a graceful exit. Evidently Vivian had done some hobnobbing among the other business owners, as if she were jockeying for a social position in Greenburg, although for the life of me I couldn’t understand why. Her husband Curtis, though, acted as more of a silent partner in the business.
“Yes, they sure do. Which is why Honey and Roland hiss like caged cats whenever they’re in the same room.” Vivian cast a glance at the woman now using the ultra stair-stepper. “Hon, let me help you with that setting.” Neat and efficient, she strode across the gym.
I offered a silent prayer of thanks for my chance to escape and went for my gym bag. I determined to make a getaway before Vivian launched into more juicy revelations.
The rain had mercifully slowed to a fine mist, so I took my time crossing the parking lot. I wanted to talk to Jerry about the skeleton, but I needed to visit with Momma. I didn’t like the way our earlier conversation had ended.
Twenty minutes later I pulled my Jeep behind Momma’s sprawling sedan and tried to avoid the red mud in the driveway as much as possible. The rain came splattering down again, and even my parents’ dog, Bark, wouldn’t venture out from the security of his doghouse.
Momma opened the back door before my feet had reached the top of the steps. “I was hoping you’d drop by. What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry. I just realized I never went home to pick up the watermelon rinds, but I didn’t want to go home just yet.” I hugged her before following her into the warm kitchen. Something deliciously meaty sizzled in the oven, and my stomach gurgled in response.
“Why didn’t you want to go home?”
“We found part of a skeleton in our watermelon patch. Well, Spot did, actually, so of course I called Jerry. . .” I gave a feeble gesture as if that would explain everything.
She clutched her chest with both hands. “A skeleton.” Then she frowned as she scanned my face. “Are you all right? That must have been a terrible shock to see.”
I nodded, and my stomach growled. “I’m fine. Sorry about earlier. I guess it kind of shook me up a little, the idea that someone had been buried in that field, and no one ever knew it until now.”
Momma waved off my apology. “Don’t worry about it. You look like you could use a good supper. Is Ben working tonight?”
“Yes. Honey needed him.” I pulled out a kitchen chair and settled at the table. “I can stay for supper, but I’ve got to leave right after I eat. There’s the Chamber of Commerce meeting tonight, and Tennessee River Soaps is joining.”
I could see Momma beaming as she bustled back to the stove. “Who’d have thought, a Clark joining that Greenburg group.”
“I’m sure it’ll be good for business. I finally feel accepted.”
“The store, or you?”
“That’s not fair, Momma. I meant the business. Not me.” I fiddled with the napkin holder on the table. “I’ve never been into that whole popularity thing. Sometimes it still feels like junior high. Who has the nicest things, the most money, the best clothes. And if you’re not in the right crowd, well, you can forget it.” I tried not to sigh.
She pointed a spoon at me. “People are people no matter what they own or how much money they have, and don’t you forget it. Money can poison the best of relationships. Havin’ it, or needin’ it.” Her eyes looked shadowed for a moment, but she turned back around to the stove.
“I wonder who was buried in our field,” I blurted.
“Kids went out there a lot, I know. Even before you were born. Even your sister went there as a teenager.”
I tried not to gape. “You knew about that?”
Momma nodded. “I saw the dry mud on her shoes early Sunday mornings and heard her sneaking in through the back door once. She didn’t know I knew. I got calluses on my knees over that girl. Right after that she straightened out when she broke up with one particular guy. I’m glad the Lord knocked some sense into her, because her daddy and I sure couldn’t. Short of putting bars on her bedroom window, I didn’t know what to do.”
N
ow it was my turn to nod. “The guy Diana dated her senior year.”
“Seems datin’ the wrong guy runs in the family. Jewel would never listen to our momma and daddy. I’m just glad both you and your sister found the right men.” Momma shook her head. “I never wanted either one of you to turn out like your aunt Jewel.”
At the mention of my aunt’s name, I had a memory of laughter and golden hair and blue eyes, with a smile like summer. I was five, and Aunt Jewel had taken me fishing on the river, its reflected light making her glow like an angel. Then she was gone, and my mind shuffled to a series of family memories. She left Greenburg without telling anyone good-bye when she turned eighteen and never looked back. The betrayal still echoed through our family, years later.
“I’m glad the Lord gave me Ben.” I swallowed hard and brushed the memory aside. “It took me forever to quit being stupid, but I’m glad he waited for me.”
“You and Diana are both blessed. There’s just one more thing I’d like. Not a thing, really, though.”
“What’s that?” I knew what was coming and braced myself.
“A little granddaughter.” Momma raised her hand. “I know. You didn’t let me say my piece earlier.”
“Ben and I have only been married for a few months. I’m hardly used to being married yet, let alone thinking about becoming a mother.”
“I know. But in a few years you’ll be forty, and year after year the chances of you”—here Momma blushed— “conceiving. . .get smaller and smaller.”
“I know,” I said. “We’ll start a family. I promise. It’s just so fast.”
“Honey, life comes fast. Just ask your daddy. He’s retirin’ for good at the end of the year.”
“Retiring?” I breathed easier at the change in subject. Of course, Momma could swing the conversation back around to babies. “Is he feeling okay?”
“He’s fine. He just decided he wanted to take things easier. We’re talkin’ about doing some traveling. He wants to get a travel trailer to pull behind the truck. We might go up to Branson and catch some shows. I’ve always wanted to see the Grand Canyon. Or Florida sounds nice.”
The Wiles of Watermelon (Scents of Murder Book 2) Page 3