“I would if Frank hadn’t ended up getting himself killed. Mitch is a boy with a lot to prove but he wouldn’t kill anybody to do it.”
“I don’t believe Mitch would kill anybody either. And I don’t think he’s behind the vandalism.”
“Probably not. Got anyone else in mind?” Myra pushed the chocolate box in my direction a little more forcefully. I knew a bribe when I saw one. Myra might be eager to hear everything but that meant she probably had heard some things I hadn’t.
“I think I heard someone mention it could be Dean Hayes,” I said. Myra raised her eyebrows and nodded her head slowly.
“He might be sick of waiting for Jill to give up on the sugaring and just sell the place. I know Frank was interested in buying it.”
“Frank might have already been dead when the vandalism occurred at Kenneth’s and I think he might have been when the dummy was strung up at Tansey’s, too.”
“Do you know what Dean was up to yesterday?” Myra tapped her long, magenta nails on the desktop.
“He says he was watching a whole lot of Sunday sports programing but no one was with him to back up his story.”
“Exactly when did he say he was watching?” Myra’s posture had stiffened like a dog breed that points. Something was jangling her about Dean’s story all right.
“He claimed to have been at home parked in front of the tube from noon until around nine last night, when Jill got back.”
“I saw him pulling out of the Mountain View Food Mart at just past one.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. He climbed into that bright blue Jeep of his and took off.”
“Did you see where he went?”
“No. I was going into the store as he was coming out. But I can tell you he headed west on Main Street.”
“He would have gone east to head back home.”
“But not if he was going to the Shaws’ instead.”
“We don’t know for sure that he went to Kenneth’s though. All we know is that he wasn’t where he said he was. There might be a lot of people with a grievance against the Shaws or any of the sugar makers in town.”
“Including you.” Ouch. I liked to think I was thought of well enough in town that no one would target my business or me but obviously that was wishful thinking since someone had. It was still easier to consider it was aimed at the entire group rather than me personally.
“I guess I do have to consider that. Not everyone likes me or my ideas. After all, Frank set his dog on me after I approached him about joining. That was a pretty good indication that he didn’t hold me in high regard.”
“I wouldn’t take that personally. Frank set his dog on lots of people. Just ask Byron. He’s got a list so long you could paper a powder room with it.” I grabbed one more chocolate after explaining I couldn’t wait any longer for Mitch and hit the road. Byron was exactly whom I wanted to talk to next.
Seventeen
The Clunker gave me a perfect excuse to call on Byron. Not only did I have a legitimate reason to nag him about my MG Midget, which was still in his shop for repair, the Clunker was starting to make the noise that gave the vehicle its name. I chugged into the parking lot at Sugar Grove Auto Repair at half speed. Byron stood bent over a station wagon I knew belonged to Felicia Chick, co-owner of the local bed-and-breakfast. Why Felicia’s station wagon was more urgently in need of repair than my Midget I was unsure. This was not starting out as auspiciously as I had hoped.
“Does this mean my Midget is ready to drive off and use?” I asked, sliding out of the Clunker and crossing the lot.
“Nope.” Byron yanked a rag from his back pocket and slowly wiped his hands on it. “Just trust me a little longer and I know you’ll be happy with the results.” He had been good to me for the past several years since my father stopped being able to take care of the car himself. I was being a bit hasty perhaps. And it wasn’t as if he didn’t have any other clients needing service. There was no reason for my impatience. I decided to blame it on too little sleep and too much worry over the past few days.
“I know you always do right by your clients. I actually came by to ask you to take a look at the Clunker. It’s making a weird noise. I think it isn’t liking being driven as much as it has been over the last few weeks.”
“I promised Felicia I’d have her car back to her this afternoon. Do you think it is a serious noise or just a low-level concern?”
“Probably it isn’t too pressing but better safe than sorry, right? I can come back later when you have more time.”
“Time is something I never seem to have enough of lately. Between my animal control officer duties, my regular clients and the new restoration business, I’ve been up to my eyeballs in obligations.” Byron did look a little tuckered out now that I bothered to notice.
“You’re not the only one connected to the police department who’s been putting in extra hours lately.”
“Hell of a time for Lowell to finally up and take a vacation wasn’t it?”
“I’m sorry about your friend.”
“Thanks for saying so. I know you weren’t exactly a fan of Frank’s. I also understood you found his body.”
“That’s right, I did, and as much as I wasn’t happy to be the one to find him, I’m glad it was me instead of Phoebe.”
“Pretty banged up was he?”
“Just around the back of his head but still, no one should see a loved one like that. It’s hard enough to look at their body after it’s been cleaned up by the undertaker.” Sometimes I worried about Loden and the image he must carry in his mind from finding our father, sitting leaned up against a tree in the middle of his sugar bush, all signs of life floated up and out like chimney smoke in a stiff breeze. “As much as finding him spooked me, the hardest part is knowing whoever killed him is still wandering around Sugar Grove.”
“Why do you think that has to be the case? He could have just interrupted a burglary in progress.”
“When I found him he was in the sugarhouse and Beau was inside. If he had heard something don’t you think he would have sent the dog out after the person?”
“I don’t know about that. Your run-in with him didn’t mean he always handled intruders by siccing the dog on them.”
“I heard there were a bunch of people in at the police station complaining about Beau lately. Anyone besides me get on the wrong side of Beau’s flapping jaws?”
“Knowlton was one. Mindy Collins was another. I believe Beau had even been prowling around on Jill Hayes’s property, too. But she just called him in as a loose dog. She didn’t say Beau was bothering her.”
“But the others did?”
“Knowlton made a pest of himself complaining about Beau. He said Frank was making a point of harassing him.”
“What did you do about it?”
“I told him to man up and deal with it himself. Privately though, I spoke to Frank and told him to reign Beau in before Knowlton got the notion to stuff his dog and put him on display somewhere.” As much as I didn’t share Knowlton’s passion for taxidermy, I had to agree that a stuffed version of Beau sounded a lot more appealing than a mobile one. That reminded me Bob Sterling had mentioned Knowlton sneaking off Frank’s property the day he was killed. I decided to go looking for him as soon as I finished up with Byron. He was usually at the Stack for lunch.
“What about Mindy?”
“Mindy was harder to calm down because she was upset about that dog pestering her kids. And for her, that meant her own as well as all the kids involved in the Squirrel Squad. She was over here or calling in a complaint at least once a week and more often if it was a school vacation. Liked to drive me nuts with all her nagging.”
“If Frank had sent Beau after Hunter or Spring, I would have parked out on your sofa until you locked him up. Do you even care at all how frightenin
g that can be?”
“I do care and I took her concerns seriously. It was just that answering Mindy’s calls was becoming a full-time job and like I said, I’ve got more than one job already. I didn’t want to make time for driving all the way out to hell and gone just because Beau was pacing back and forth on his own side of the property line.”
“Do you think she was aggravated enough about it to kill Frank?” Mindy was one of those mothers who people describe as being like a bear. She loved her kids with a ferocity that seemed almost obsessive. I wouldn’t want to be the one to cross her over anything to do with them. It was intimidating enough just being in her orbit where the kids were involved. I couldn’t imagine having her turn all her intensity on me if I threatened them in any way.
“I still think it was a burglary gone wrong.”
“Frank’s place didn’t seem like he had anything worth stealing. The yard is so heaped up with junk it looks like he started a satellite town dump.”
“You’d be surprised what Frank had of value on the property. And he knew where everything was, too. There was an order to his madness.”
“I can’t believe that. From what I saw he couldn’t even keep a neat woodpile.” I mean really, how hard is it to stack wood neatly and pull pieces from the top and work your way down. You had to be some kind of a slob to have a messy woodpile. That seemed to have grabbed Byron’s attention more than anything else I’d said.
“What do you mean his woodpile was a mess? You mean the one out back of the sugarhouse?”
“Yes. I assumed it was the one he used for his sugaring, and from the looks of the sugarhouse itself I was kind of surprised to see it all tumbled around like it was. The yard was a disaster but everything associated with the sugaring operation was as neat as it is at my place.”
“I think I may have been right about it being a burglary after all.”
“Why?”
“Frank never trusted anything to do with the government or social security numbers. So, he didn’t believe in banks. One of the places he kept his considerable stash of cash was the woodpile next to the sugarhouse.”
“Did you mention a theft angle to Mitch?”
“No. I had no idea anyone had messed with one of his stash spots. I guess I’d better give Mitch a call right away.” Byron lowered the hood on Felicia’s station wagon and dug a greasy cell phone out of his pocket. I thought of something just as he started poking at the keys with an oily thumb.
“Byron, who else knew about Frank’s stash besides you?”
“Not too many people, I don’t think. There was Phoebe, of course, and his late wife, Iris, would have known. I guess I’m not sure that anyone else did.” Byron turned back to his dialing and I got into the Clunker. As I pulled away I thought about how likely it was that an opportunistic burglar would have known where to look for Frank’s hidden cash. I also considered the money Myra mentioned Phoebe had been spending lately and what the source of her wealth might be.
* * *
Knowlton was at the Stack just where I expected to find him when I dragged myself through the door hoping to refuel with carbohydrates and caffeine. He was sitting perched on a stool right near the door as if he was waiting for me. Which he probably was if he had heard anything about my camping trip with Graham. Knowlton and I had camped together as kids when we were young enough to be in the Squirrel Squad ourselves. It wasn’t as romantic, I am pleased to say.
Even then, Knowlton tried impressing the girls with his plans for stuffing dead creatures. I remember one trip quite vividly where he found a cardinal lying on the ground, its neck broken and its lifeless eyes fixed like it was staring at the sky. I wanted to bury the poor little thing but Knowlton had other plans. He scooped it up with a trowel and tucked it into his backpack.
Later he gave it to me as a Valentine’s gift because it was red and he thought restoring it to a lifelike pose was as close to bringing it back as he could manage. It was sweet in its own way, if a little grotesque. It was the most unusual Valentine’s Day gift I had ever received. It remains that way ’til this day. It was probably the most thoughtful, too.
Which makes the whole Knowlton thing so hard. He tries and almost succeeds but somehow the desired effect is just never quite acheived. It really ends up boiling down to the fact that I don’t want to date someone because he tries hard and I feel sorry for him. I just don’t think that is the best basis for a relationship.
But I needed to ask Knowlton about his run-ins with Frank’s dog, Beau, and there was no time like the present. And a heaping helping of whatever Piper was serving up as the special ought to make the medicine go down a lot more easily. I hoisted myself onto the stool right next to Knowlton, which raised his eyebrows and brought a smile to his face. Piper, nearly as astonished as Knowlton, bustled over, dropped her order pad on the counter, and pressed the back of her hand against my forehead.
“I don’t have a fever.”
“You seem a little warm to me. Are you sure you wouldn’t be happier sitting over there in a booth, where you might not get anything contagious on Knowlton here?” Piper pointed to my favorite spot in the corner.
“Anything Dani wants to share with me is fine as far as I’m concerned.” Knowlton leaned toward me and lifted his arm and draped it over my shoulder. I took the opportunity to snitch one of the sweet potato fries from his plate. There were far too many of them for him to eat on his own with the history of heart disease that plagues his family. Really, I was doing him a big favor by taking some of them for myself. His arm started getting heavy in a hurry though.
“Knowlton, I can’t concentrate on your lunch if you keep touching me.”
“Sorry, Dani. Is that better?” He pulled his arm away and pushed his plate closer. Sometimes I just hate myself for the way I take advantage of his affections. Then I noticed him trying to look down my shirt. I grabbed a half dozen more fries as payment. I ordered the special and Piper went off to help someone else. Now was the time to get information from Knowlton.
“So I hear from Byron that you and I have something in common.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you for years. We have almost too much in common. But you’ll always be an exotic creature to me, Dani.” He went all goo-goo eyed and mushy and I thought I could see him imagining me stuffed and posed and standing in front of the stove in his kitchen. Or sprawled out on the top bunk in his childhood bedroom at Tansey’s. Or even worse, posed over a cradle, my hand laid against a doll’s cheek. I shuddered. “Are you cold? You can borrow my jacket.” He started to slip his arms out of the sleeves.
“No, just a goose running over my grave. I’m warm as toast.”
“Running hot is something else we have in common.” Knowlton winked at me as he said it and I fought down a second shudder.
“I was thinking of our run-ins with Frank’s dog, Beau.”
“That thing is top on my list of creatures I’d love to stuff.”
“He isn’t one of my favorite dogs either, at least not as long as Frank was ordering him to chase me or Hunter off his property.” I looked up as Piper plunked a steaming bowl in front of me. The special was cheddar cheese and caramelized-onion soup with a crusty roll on the side and I was looking forward to every bite. She stood there looking at me, waiting for my verdict on the new recipe.
“But Frank isn’t ordering anyone around anymore, now is he?” Knowlton smiled at me again and actually chucked me under the chin like a baby. Despite the smells wafting up from my bowl I was losing my appetite.
“I wanted to ask you about that. Someone said they saw you in the area around Frank’s place the day he was killed.”
“Who said that?”
“Bob Sterling. He said when he arrived at Frank’s to talk to him about the property line dispute he saw you slipping off into the woods. Heading away from the sugarhouse.”
“Nope. It
wasn’t me. I was nowhere near Frank’s that day.” Knowlton tucked both hands under his rump and sat on them.
“He’s lying,” Piper said. Piper is like a human lie detector. She’s a crack cardplayer and is astonishingly good at noticing tells, especially the most minute of them. But even I recognized Knowlton always sat on his hands when he told lies. It was as if he thought by gesticulating with them like he usually did he would give himself away.
“You wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings by lying to me now would you?” I felt dirty, playing that sort of card myself but I needed to know why he was there and he didn’t seem inclined to just offer it up.
“You know how I feel about you, Dani.”
“Yes, you’ve never lied about that.”
“Myra was in here on Saturday night talking about you going on an overnight camping trip with that game warden guy.”
“Graham.”
“Yeah, that guy.” Knowlton scowled and I worried for a second he was actually going to spit on the floor right there in the Stack.
“How does this explain your visit to Frank’s place?”
“I thought if I could find proof that Frank was sabotaging the sugarhouses to try to stop the cooperative you’d think I was a hero. Then maybe you’d go camping with me instead of that other guy.”
“Aw, Knowlton, that’s really sweet. Did you see anything that linked Frank to the vandalism?”
“No. I didn’t. I was sneaking around all quiet-like looking for clues but there wasn’t anything to see but a bunch of broken-down junk in the yard and a messy woodpile.”
“The woodpile was in disarray when you were there?”
“Yup, it sure was. I remember thinking Frank wasn’t much good in my opinion but I wouldn’t have thought him so low as to not bother stacking his wood properly.”
Maple Mayhem (A Sugar Grove Mystery) Page 17