by B. T. Lord
“If you’re asking whether his Alzheimer’s caused him to kill Poppie, the answer is no. Not at the stage he was in.”
“Thank you for your time, Doctor,” Cammie said.
The two stepped outside where Rick took a deep breath. “What a strange ending to all of this. Baker escapes justice by offing himself, but there was still karmic justice at play in his diagnosis of Alzheimer’s.”
“I knew there was something off about him. Do you remember how he’d suddenly stare off into space the two times we came up to interview him? Or how upset he looked when he couldn’t find his appointment book?” Rick nodded. “He was already showing signs of dementia.”
As they drove back to Baker’s house, he noticed once again the hard look in her eyes.
“So we didn’t pick up right away that it was Baker. But the important thing is that we did eventually figure it out. As it is, his fate was worse than prison. I can’t imagine knowing that your memory is slowly turning to jello. But you did your job, Cam. You led the way to finding Poppie’s killer. And isn’t that what counts at the end of the day?”
She threw him a crooked smile, but said nothing.
Cammie tried one last time to contact Hannah and her father regarding Poppie’s burial, but neither returned her numerous phone calls. With the check Hannah left her, she arranged for a simple yet respectful ceremony up at the cemetery.
The day of the funeral was gray and overcast, with a cold, blustery wind blowing up off Waban Pond. Meredith, Cammie, Doc, Rick, Jace and Emmy were the mourners. Not knowing Poppie’s religious affiliations, Cammie asked Reverend Harborough to conduct a non-denominational service. He was midway through when they heard the sounds of a car driving up the leaf-choked dirt road towards the gates. A moment later, Aubrey and his wife got out and made their way to the small gathering. He waved at the minister to continue, his arrogant gesture rubbing Cammie the wrong way. She forced herself to look away and focus on the minister’s words.
We are here to honor the life of
Poppie Beresford.
To grieve her passing, to acknowledge what she meant
to each of us.
It was odd hearing those words. Poppie was a stranger to them. She’d only come into their orbit because her life had been taken from her. If those words applied to anyone, they applied to Meredith, Aubrey and Veronica. They were the ones who knew her. Even then, they only knew what Poppie wanted them to know. If there was any life to be mourned here today, it was the lives Poppie had wrecked, and the grief that she could not find the redemption she’d sought for her actions. There was no forgiveness there that day from the people who needed to forgive – Hannah, Mr. Beresford, even Poppie herself. She’d tried. The quote she’d carried around in her bag proved she was trying to forgive herself. But like the white crow, she’d become an outcast. Unable to move forward, unable to find some measure of peace in her life, she’d fallen victim to a man who demanded she cease being an observer of her life and begin to partake of it – with him. If he’d only known that what he was asking was impossible.
Cammie sighed as they each took turns throwing a handful of dirt on Poppie’s coffin.
“Go in peace,” Harborough intoned.
As the group began to move towards their vehicles, Aubrey came up to Cammie.
“I told you I was innocent. I told you I had nothing to do with Poppie’s death.”
Veronica grabbed his arm. “Aubrey, stop. This is not the place.”
He yanked his arm away from her grasp. “I just want to tell the sheriff here that I’m thinking of suing her for mental anguish. You ought to have your badge taken away for harassing innocent people--”
Doc, Jace and Rick surrounded him. “That’s enough, Mr. Gardiner,” Rick ordered.
“You’ve said your peace, now I suggest you leave,” Doc added.
He glared at each of the three men. “You haven’t heard the last of this!” he declared as he turned and stomped out of the cemetery.
“I am so sorry,” Veronica said. “He’s been terribly upset over all of this. He didn’t mean what he said. We are certainly not going to sue you, Sheriff.”
“Veronica!” Aubrey’s voice rang out through the still air, shattering any sense of peace and serenity in the cemetery. She gave Cammie a half-hearted smile, then turned and hurried away.
“You okay?” Jace asked as he slipped his arm around Cammie’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” she answered, her face a stony mask.
“That man is a Philistine,” Doc remarked. “And a hypocrite. After what he did to Meredith, he should have kept his mouth shut.”
“It’s alright, guys, really. I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t. And they all knew it.
Cammie did her best to move on from the Beresford case, but Aubrey made it a point of making himself visible in town. Every time their paths crossed, he yelled out, “I told you so.” Legally, there was nothing Cammie or Rick could do. But it only made her self-disgust grow deeper until it became an open sore, oozing anger and revulsion at how she had so misjudged this investigation. She went about her duties, but it ate at her. Jace did what he could to cheer her up. Doc had them over to dinner in an attempt to distract her. Emmy baked her favorite cookies while Rick joked to lighten her mood. He was convinced he’d found the solution to her despondency when he came in one day and announced that Veronica had kicked Aubrey out of the farmhouse and was seeking a divorce.
“She’s hired the best divorce attorney in the Northeast. You can bet she’s going after his Magic Calico empire hardcore.”
Cammie nodded, but felt nothing at the news. No satisfaction, no glee at his misfortune. As far as she was concerned, he was only getting what he deserved. The news did nothing to ease her malaise. Only time was going to help her work through her tangle of emotions.
It was two weeks after Poppie’s burial. Clarke County experienced their first snow of the season – a light dusting of white that presaged heavier snows that were sure to come.
Wearing a coat and scarf, Rick strode down Main Street on his rounds. It was a task he enjoyed. Being the social butterfly that he was, he delighted in stopping at the various shops, greeting customers and shopkeepers, sharing in the latest gossip. Even during the coldest winters, he could be seen walking up and down Main Street, a cup of hot chocolate in one hand and a warm croissant in the other from the newly established bakery that sat up near the town offices. He wasn’t surprised the bakery was so close to the mayor’s office. Bill Barnes loved nothing more than freshly baked muffins, donuts and his favorite – loaves of bread right out of the oven. He made sure the various town meetings started and ended with baked goods. As long as Barnes was mayor, the bakery would never run out of business.
It was after lunch when Rick neared Zee’s. The door opened and he saw Emmy step out. He started to call out to her when he saw a young man step out behind her. It was Jeff Norbit, the star quarterback on the high school football team when Emmy was in school. Tall, good looking, with green eyes and blonde hair, he was now attending the University of Maine in Orono. Guessing he was home visiting, his eyes narrowed when he saw Ryan put an arm around Emmy’s shoulder as they walked up the street towards HQ. He had his head down listening to something Emmy was saying and they were both laughing.
Rick felt sick with jealousy. Before he could stop himself, he crossed the street and approached the two.
“Hey, Jeff. I thought you were up in Orono.”
Jeff straightened. The two men were of equal height and build and he met Rick’s eye. “I’m home for the week-end.”
The two tried to walk around Rick, but he remained in their way. “I didn’t know you two were friends,” he remarked.
Emmy was taken aback by the look in Rick’s eye. She’d never seen it before and it worried her. “We’ve known each other since we were kids,” she said in an effort to diffuse the anger she felt pouring off Rick.
“I didn’t know that.”
“Why should you?” Jeff countered. “When did Twin Ponds become a police state?”
Rick took a step towards Jeff. Emmy quickly grabbed Rick’s arm. “Jeff, thanks for lunch. We’ll catch up this weekend before you go back to campus.”
“Are you sure, Em?” he asked, eyeing Rick.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Jeff reluctantly sidestepped Rick and continued on his way. Emmy waited until Jeff was out of earshot before she turned on Rick.
“What the heck is the matter with you? You totally embarrassed me.”
“Are you two dating?” he asked.
“You have no right to ask me that. You’re like a bouncing ball, you know that? One minute you like me, then the next, you’re running away as if I have the plague. I told you, I’m not going to play this game forever with you, Rick. Either you want to be with me or you don’t. Since you’ve made it obvious you don’t, I’m not going to waste any more of my time waiting for you to change your mind.”
“What are you talking about? I’ve never made anything obvious!” he exclaimed, hurt and bewildered by her accusation.
“Really? Then what do you call it when I keep inviting you to dinner, but you always find an excuse not to go,” Emmy shot back, her face red with anger and frustration. “The most I can get you to do is walk with me to Zee’s to get sandwiches for you and the Sheriff. This is ridiculous. Life’s too short.” She started to walk away, before suddenly turning back to him. “Jeff and I are not dating. Not yet. But at least he appreciates me, which is more than you do!” She started to walk away when once more she swung around to the deputy. “If I were you Rick, I’d go see someone to help you with your commitment issues. If you don’t, you’re going to end up old and alone.”
This time she continued walking down the street.
Rick stood there, stunned by what she’d said. His anger surged. How dare she say he needed a psychiatrist? Who the hell was she to accuse of him of being afraid of commitment? Just because she was ready to settle down and he wasn’t –
The anger pooled out of him as he realized what a stupid thing he’d just done. He’d been ready to knock Jeff’s head off. Until he’d saved Emmy’s life last year, he was convinced he didn’t even have a jealous bone in his body. But that was obviously not true.
What was Emmy doing to him?
“Good morning, Rick,” a passerby greeted.
He didn’t hear. He was still immersed in what had just happened. Once again, the reason behind his actions dangled in front of him. He shuddered and deliberately veered his mind away.
I’ve got to get a grip. And fast.
Cammie was in the Explorer, driving around the neighborhoods, doing her rounds. Like Rick, she enjoyed this part of her job. She made it a point to check in on the elderly, on families she knew were in need, making sure they had what they needed for the coming winter. The self-recriminations over the Beresford investigation were still there, but they were easing. She recognized that she put so much pressure on herself to be the best officer she could be that she wasn’t allowing herself to make mistakes.
Yes, this one had been a doozy, but she could take satisfaction that she hadn’t arrested Aubrey. Although she’d genuinely believed him to be the murderer, she hadn’t completely closed her mind off to other possibilities. She’d held out to get the necessary proof she needed before throwing him in jail. She’d been a responsible officer. The only fault she had was her zeal in wanting him to be guilty. That was where she’d lost her objectivity.
Well, that’s never going to happen again. I learned my lesson.
She took a right and saw she was driving past Dancing Harry’s place. As a man whose mind could go from clear, logical coherent thought to muddled confusion and back again, he was on her list of people she routinely checked up on. Realizing she hadn’t seen him since the anniversary of her mother’s death, she decided to stop. She pulled into the driveway, walked up to his door and knocked. Not hearing anything, she turned the knob and opened it.
“Harry, it’s Cammie. Just came by to say hello!” she called out as she stepped into the living room.
“I’m just getting out of the shower. I’ll be out in a minute,” he called back.
There was a fire roaring in the wood stove, making the small house nice and toasty.
“Why don’t you put the kettle on? We can have ourselves a cup of tea,” he called out again.
“Good idea,” she answered as she walked over to the kitchen area and bustled about filling the kettle and putting it on the burner. She opened the cabinet and reached up to pull out two mugs. She managed to get one out while the other was just out of reach. Reaching up on tiptoes, she managed to get her fingertips around the handle and slide it towards her. Unfortunately, it caught on something. Feeling around, she closed her fingers around a cold, round object. Pulling it to her, she opened her hand and gasped aloud.
It was Poppie Beresford’s lost earring.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cammie backed up in horror, crashing against Harry’s writing desk. A slim book toppled to the floor next to her feet. She picked it up and her heart skidded to a stop when she read the title.
The Flowers of Evil by Charles Baudelaire.
Charles Baudelaire. A French poet.
A name suddenly came to mind that made her sick.
Baudelaire French.
The caretaker who Hannah had spoken of so highly. The caretaker Poppie had accused of theft and thrown off her property.
This couldn’t be happening.
“Excellent poet and essayist,” Harry said as he walked into the living room and saw the book in her hand. “He influenced an entire generation of poets. He’s one of my favorites.”
“Which is why you took his name,” Cammie whispered. “Which is why you became Baudelaire French.”
“A bit dramatic even for me. But I couldn’t help myself.”
With a shaking hand, Cammie held up the earring. “You took this from Poppie Beresford’s body, didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “She never paid me my wages. Wages, mind you, that I earned. It seemed like a fair exchange. Those are real diamonds, you know. And such a beautiful pearl. I’m still debating whether to keep the pearl or not.”
Cammie stared at him in disbelief. He was speaking as casually as though they were discussing the weather. There was no remorse. No guilt. What appalled her was the lucidity in his eyes. He knew exactly what he’d done. And he felt justified in having done it.
“That’s why Poppie ran out of Zee’s,” she whispered as the true pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. “It wasn’t because she overheard a conversation regarding bird hunting. It was because she saw you.”
“I suppose you’re going to want to hear all about that, aren’t you?” He laughed as he wiggled his finger at her. “You always were a nosy little girl.” Not waiting for an answer, he sat down in his chair. “I will be more than happy to satisfy your curiosity.” He cleared his throat and began. “After leaving Twin Ponds all those years ago, I drifted from job to job. You’ll remember, I was always a very good handyman. Much like your Jace, I could fix just about anything. That talent served me well. I’d stay for a little while working as a caretaker or handyman for various families. Then I’d grow bored and move on. It was a very pleasant existence. Then I came to work for Poppie Beresford.” He shook his head as he looked at Cammie. “Thank God you never knew her. She was a horrid woman. She treated everyone like dirt, including her dear, sweet daughter. Now I would have moved on as soon as I’d discovered what a witch she was. But it was Hannah that made me stay. She was so starved for attention that I took it upon myself to spend time with her. I carved her little toys. Taught her how to fly a kite. One day she found this poor robin. We did our best to save it and we would have too. But the witch cold bloodedly killed that little bird. That’s when I knew I had to make her pay.” He guffawed when he saw Cammie’s expression. “Oh, I didn’t do anything to her. I simply stole he
r favorite set of pearls. Unfortunately, I was immediately suspected. She threatened to have me thrown in jail.” Harry tapped the side of his head. “But she couldn’t. Because I’d hidden the pearls so well, she couldn’t prove I’d taken them. However, she was intent on getting her revenge. She fired me without paying me my wages. And she put the word out in Greenwich that I was a thief and not to be trusted.” He shook his head. “Can you imagine that? I’d grown to like Greenwich. But I had no choice. I had to leave because no one would hire me.”
“Is that why you killed her, Harry?” Cammie asked. “Because she fired you without paying you?”
“I killed her because she was a horrible human being who didn’t deserve to live.”
“For God’s sakes, Harry!” she exploded. “How dare you presume to be judge and jury! You stole her property and she fired you! That’s not a death sentence.”
He gave Cammie a pitying look. “It wasn’t about the pearl necklace. It was about treating people with respect, regardless of their social position. It was about being compassionate and caring and loving, especially to her daughter.” He met her eye. “Do you know Hannah went into Zee’s the day she came to see you? I made sure to hide, though I doubt she would have recognized me anyway. I watched her, Cammie. I watched the way she treated Zee, barking out her order as though she were talking to the village idiot. I saw the look of disdain on her face as she observed the locals. It broke my heart. She’d become exactly like her mother. That was Poppie’s legacy.”
Cammie hung her head. “Harry, you have no idea how much Poppie suffered. You don’t have a clue how much she regretted her behavior with Hannah. And even if she didn’t feel guilty, that doesn’t give you the right to do what you did.”
“Guilty?” He burst out laughing. “My dear Cammie, she was rude up to the last moments of her life.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was out walking in my woods as I do every morning. I heard an argument and went to investigate. She was yelling at a man who wanted nothing more than to be allowed to love her. To take care of her. She screamed at him to leave her alone.” He sniffed. “If she’d been nice to him, I might believe you. But she wasn’t. She was as condescending and belittling as she’d always been. What does that say about her as a human being when she mocks another human being for the simple reason that he loves her? When did love become an excuse to scorn and vilify another?” He heaved a heavy sigh. “If it makes you feel better, I wasn’t planning on killing her. I always carry my gun whenever I go out into my woods. Out there, I am simply a means of nourishment for a hungry predator to feast upon. And although I find it distasteful, I must be able to defend myself. But there she was, defiling my woods with her insulting words, with her haughtiness, with her very presence. She hurt that man so deeply he was actually crying when he left. I couldn’t stand it anymore, Cammie. When she turned her back and looked through her binoculars into the trees, the crows started screeching so loudly, I know they were telling me to shoot her. To eliminate such an abomination. More crows arrived until there was such a cacophony, I couldn’t bear the noise. They were all cawing the same thing – kill her, kill her. So I did.”