Old Bones: a Hetty Fox Cozy Mystery (Hetty Fox Cozy Mysteries Book 2)

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Old Bones: a Hetty Fox Cozy Mystery (Hetty Fox Cozy Mysteries Book 2) Page 3

by Anna Drake


  “You were going to fill me in on Damon’s background,” Andrew said, his arms folded across his chest.

  l took a deep breath and said, “His family was a big deal here. They always have been, apparently. His great grandfather started a grain elevator and made mega bucks over the years.” I turned off the water and carted the kettle to the stove.

  “The males in the family all carried on that tradition,” I continued. “Then, after his parents died, Damon inherited fistsfull of money and the business. Inheriting all that wealth at such a young age means he’s nearly impossible to deal with today. Or at least, he is for me. I assume Megan does better with him.”

  “And his grain elevator is still a thriving business?”

  “Yes.”

  “But I thought the big conglomerates were pushing the little operators out of business.”

  I looked at him suspiciously. “You seem rather well informed.”

  “I watch the news with you. I read the newspapers over your shoulder. I keep up.”

  I shrugged. “Yes, the answer to your question is that his business is alive and healthy. Damon’s firm is part of a multi-county cooperative. He and a group of elevator owners started it a year or two ago. It’s designed to push back at the big boys trying to sink them.”

  “That’s clever.”

  I nodded. “Damon put the entire operation together. And now he’s the new firm’s top dog. I’ve never doubted his business sense. And from what Megan says their personal income has almost doubled. No, when it comes to making money, Damon is a champ.”

  “It is odd that he never noticed his aunt missing.”

  “There are miles and miles separating Hendricksville and Chicago. If she never made an effort with Damon before her death, I could understand his indifference toward her later.”

  “But she was killed here.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you think the killer was local, or did the murderer follow her down from Chicago?”

  “How would a stranger to town have slipped her body into an attic belonging to a local couple? What are the odds against that?”

  “You’re right. it’s more likely the killer was from here.”

  “Besides, we’re better off if that person lives here. We wouldn’t have any chance of catching a killer from out of town.”

  “So do you have a plan?”

  “First, I need to know more about Eva. Who her friends were. What her relationship to that house and its owners might have been. As Oberton has indicated, it’s doubtful she climbed into that trunk on her own.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “I’ll start at the high school. The yearbooks should give me a clue about who was in her class. Some of those students should remember her. Then, I’ll see if any of them will talk with me. This is a small town. Someone should be able to fill me in.”

  “What about me?”

  I smiled. “Believe it or not, you can help. I want you to tour the taverns. Pick up what the men of Hendricksville are saying about her murder—if anything.”

  “That’s a brilliant idea,” Andrew said, a big smile spreading across his handsome face. “When do I start?”

  “Anytime you please.”

  And with that, Andrew vanished from the room. Who said happy hour only started at 5 p.m.? Me? I turned to my tea.

  ***

  Hendricksville High School sat on a plot of ground very near the Illinois River. It looked like most of the schools that were built in the early 1970s. Straight lines. Large swaths of clear glass. No colorful brick. No decorative touches. At least someone had planted some shrubs and evergreens at various locations. They improved the appearance of the square, squat building somewhat.

  I pulled my car into the parking lot and headed for the entrance. On the inside, signs pointed me to the office. They told me that all visitors had to register there. I followed the arrows and soon found myself in a reasonably-sized room.

  Muted sunshine drifted through the broad windows. Dust mites danced on the air. A healthy-looking philodendron sat on the counter. Two middle aged women were huddled over their desks. The younger of them looked up, saw me, and smiled. She wore about twenty extra pounds and a floppy top, but she had kind eyes. “May I help you?”

  “I hope so. I was wondering if it would be okay if I took a look through your old yearbooks?”

  “And you are?”

  I offered up a smile. “Sorry, my name is Hetty Fox. I’m relatively new to town.”

  “And what’s your interest in our yearbooks?”

  “There’s a woman who attended classes here decades ago. I’d like to learn more about her.”

  “Who is that?”

  I grabbed a quick breath. “Ah... Eva Langdon.”

  The woman’s eyes widened as realization dawned. “That’s the woman who was murdered. The mummy. I heard all about it on the noon news.” Suddenly, her eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. “Are you a reporter?”

  “No. It’s just that Eva was apparently related to a family member of mine.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Damon Langdon.”

  “Eva’s nephew?”

  Did everybody but me know who was related to each other here? I smiled sweetly. “I hope it’s okay if I go through the yearbooks?”

  She glanced at her officemate, a mature looking woman with neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper hair and a pastel cardigan. “I can’t see why not,” she said. “Go back down the hall the way you came. Turn right at the first corridor. You’ll see the library entrance from there. Walk straight ahead and you can’t miss it.”

  I thanked the women and beat a hasty retreat. I’d never been related to anyone who’d been featured in a spectacular news story before, and as I fled down the hall, my cheeks were still burning from the experience. I was grateful my grandsons weren’t old enough to be affected by what was going on.

  I came to the corridor and turned and spotted the door to the library ahead. Once there, I lined up at the desk and was soon helped by a sweet looking young girl. She was apparently the student worker.

  “Where will I find your old yearbooks?” I asked.

  She pointed to the far corner. “They’re over there. Second shelf.”

  I nodded my thanks and took off for the stash. I figured Eva must have attended classes at least forty years ago, so I started there, pulling the yearbook for 1975. I found her listed on page ten among the sophomores. She looked young, and innocent, and hip.

  Her hair was blonde. She wore it long with just a hint of curl at the ends. Except for the heavily applied eyeliner that gave her eyes a catlike lift at the outer edges, her makeup had a natural look. She smiled and appeared to be happy in each of the later photos, too.

  In addition to her class picture, she was included in group shots of the French Club, the Debating Society, and the Drama Group. Clothing ranged from stylishly cut dresses, to jumpsuits with wide, wide legs, to slacks paired with flyaway tops.

  It was difficult to tie that image with the mummy I’d viewed in the attic. I closed the yearbook and placed it back on the shelf. I didn’t need to study the other books. This one had told me a great deal about the young woman. She’d studied French and joined the debating team. Neither activity indicated a lack of brains. And the Drama Club told me she’d been an emotional creature.

  After replacing the book, I grabbed my purse, made my way back to my car, and took off. Neither of the two women in the office had seemed the chatty type. I needed to unearth another source of information. The only face I recognized in Eva’s class had been the one belonging to Toby Spires. I was fairly sure she saw me as an enemy about now, and I doubted she’d feel much like helping.

  Given those circumstances, I had only one person whom I thought might help me ferret out the information I wanted. She might not be of quite the right age, but I knew her knowledge of local history would be difficult to beat.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Laura Day opened
her front door at my third knock. She wore a jeans paired and a souvenir T-shirt from a bed and breakfast someplace in Maine.

  “Thanks for agreeing to see me,” I said, stepping through the doorway into her pleasant and well-cared-for front room.

  She gazed at me sympathetically. “I’ve heard the news. It must be difficult for Damon... having to face his aunt’s death this way.”

  “Yes, it is. He didn’t know she was dead. Apparently they weren’t all that close.”

  “Knowing the Langdon’s the way I did, I can believe it. Come to the kitchen. I’ve just made tea.”

  She escorted me through the living room and waved me toward the table. “Have a seat. I’ll tell you what I can.”

  “Did you actually know Eva?” I asked.

  “Goodness, no. I’m years younger than she, of course.” She pulled a mug off a rack and poured tea into it. “I remember seeing her, but I was just a child at the time. My vague recollection is that she was beautiful and aloof.”

  Laura placed a mug of tea and a platter of cookies before me.

  I thanked her but skipped the cookies. They weren’t peanut butter. On the other hand, if they had been…. “What do you mean by aloof?” I asked.

  My older sister knew her,” she said, taking a seat opposite me. “They even had some classes together. She thought Eva was happiest in her own world.”

  “Which was?”

  “Her studies. Her fancies.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Whatever captured or held her attention at that moment.”

  “Interests mattered more to her than people? Is that what you’re saying?”

  She paused a moment and then nodded. “Yes, I guess it is.”

  “Can you explain that a little?”

  Laura’s gaze flitted about the room, before she returned it firmly to me. “She enjoyed being busy. She also craved attention, but it only if it flowed in one direction. Her way. Understand that’s all according to my sister.”

  “Did you she like her?”

  Laura sucked in a deep breath and studied the ceiling. “I think she admired her. She told me Eva was good at performing. She was in the drama club, and she excelled at debate.”

  I nodded. “I saw that. I went through the high school yearbooks.” I took a sip of my tea. “Did your sister ever mention that Eva had offended anyone? Is it possible that she had made enemies?”

  “Goodness, I have no idea. I can only tell you what I think of her, and that’s all based on things my sister told me. I can’t speak for others.”

  “Could I talk to your sister? Do you think she’d meet with me?”

  “I’m sure she would if she could. She died two years ago of cancer.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Laura grimaced and nodded. “I still miss her to this day.”

  “Then it was very kind of you to meet with me. You must have known it would bring back unhappy memories.”

  “Hetty, I’m fine. I want to help. But have you spoken with your son-in-law? What has Damon had told you about his aunt?”

  “I haven’t had time to go over this with him yet. I think I’ll have to enlist my daughter’s help with that effort.”

  “We aren’t the ones our sons-in-law necessarily want to confide in, are we?”

  “Too true.”

  “You shouldn’t be surprised he hasn’t told you much. The whole Langdon family was a little standoffish and secretive. Why should Damon be any different?”

  “Can you explain what you mean?”

  She nodded. “First, the family had a lot of money. That kind of thing always sets people apart. Eva always had the latest and best of everything. That gets noticed in small towns. Then with all that wealth, her father felt he had a lot to say about what went on here. I know there were some grumblings over that.”

  “How would you hear about that kind of thing? You couldn’t have been much more than a child.”

  She blushed. “My father was just as bad as hers. But he lived on the other side of the political divide. Every night at dinner, my brothers and I got an earful about what ‘old man Langdon’ was up to. Dad was essentially telling the stories to our mother. But we were all sitting there listening.”

  “And after high school Eva moved away?”

  “Yes. She went off to college. Did well, I’ve heard. Graduated with honors. Went on to law school, and I never saw her again.” She paused for a moment. “No, I take that back. I saw her twice. Once when she came home after her father’s death. Her mother had already died by then. And then the second time I saw her was when she came back for the funeral of her brother and his wife.”

  “You didn’t speak to Eva either time?”

  “I only saw her from a distance. And I didn’t go to either funeral. I didn’t really know her parents, and the same was true of her brother and his wife. Besides, even if I’d have run into her on the sidewalk, I wouldn’t have spoken. It was my sister who went to school with her. Not me.”

  “And Eva never married?”

  “Not that I heard of.”

  “There are no brokenhearted boyfriends here?”

  Laura seemed to toss that idea around for awhile before answering. “No,” she finally said. “I’ve heard Eva dated. She and Sam Hillman were voted King and Queen of their Senior Prom. There were rumors about them at the time, but nothing firm.”

  “What about a best friend?”

  “She was probably closest to Susan Midlam, but that’s not saying much.”

  “Has Susan moved away?”

  “No. She’s Susan Cromwell now. Her husband’s a local farmer. She’s a cashier at the Hendricksville Bank.”

  I nodded and stood. “Thank you. This has been helpful.”

  “What about the knitting club business? Have you made any progress?”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry. Valerie Jarrett is out of town. I’ve left a message. I’ll let you know the minute I hear from her.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  ***

  I arrived at Megan’s house shortly before five that night. She opened the back door and pulled me into her arms. “Thank you for coming.” She held me firmly in her grip for an extra moment. After she released me, I gazed into her face. I got a terrifying feeling that all her hopes were pinned on me and on my ability to clear Damon.

  I shook off my fears and rallied for her sake. “I never turn down a dinner invitation,” I joked.

  Hugh came charging into the kitchen. “Grandma!” he exclaimed. He threw himself against me and wrapped his arms around my legs. I staggered briefly from the impact. Then, I leaned over and kissed the top of his head. “How is my young man tonight?” I gazed down at his dear face. With blond hair and blue eyes, he favored his father in looks.

  “I’m fine and so’s Chaos,” he informed me.

  Chaos, Hugh’s pet gerbil, had been the object of an intensive manhunt when he’d escaped the house about a month ago. Hugh always updated me on his condition. I was the one who had tracked the pet down for him.

  Jeremy, who would soon celebrate his first birthday, was busy enjoying his bouncing chair. His plump little legs were bending and sending him skyward in a grand ride. It cheered me just watching him.

  I walked over, scooped him up mid-bound, and planted a kiss on his cheek. Then, I lowered him back to the floor where he resumed his bouncing. Hugh had long ago disappeared from the room. I assumed he had gone off to bond with his gerbil.

  “Is Damon joining us for dinner tonight?” I asked, accepting the cup of coffee Megan held out for me.

  “No, he’s at a director’s meeting. They’re having dinner at Chester’s before the business part gets underway.”

  Chester’s was a posh restaurant located in a town about a twenty minute drive from here. It was a popular destination when fine dining was desired.

  I sniffed. “Something smells good.”

  “Roast chicken and dressing.”

  “You shouldn’t have fussed. Not for me.�


  She shrugged. “I enjoy cooking.”

  Megan was like me on that score. I’d always loved putting meals together.

  “Besides,” she continued, “Damon is gone so many nights anymore that if I didn’t cook for us, the kids and I would be eating sandwiches the rest of our lives.”

  The cooperative might have brought a halt to competition from the large, corporate grain elevators, but it had produced a much heavier workload for Damon, a condition I suspected Megan deeply resented.

  “How’s he taking Eva’s death?”

  “Truthfully?”

  I nodded.

  “He’s shaken. I’ve never seen him quite like this.”

  “It had to have been a shock. I mean he never mentioned the woman to me. And now it turns out her body’s been locked up in an attic in Hendricksville for all this time? Did you know there was an Aunt Eva?”

  “Yes, he’d mentioned her in passing, but she seemed a shadowy figure. I suspected she’d never played much of a role in Damon’s life.”

  “And he never expressed surprise or concern that he’d never heard anything more from her after his parent’s funeral?”

  “Regret maybe. I think a part of him would have liked it if she’d have called or written. But he was far too proud to admit it… even to me.”

  “I went to the high school today to look at the yearbooks. I found pictures of her there. Then I tracked down a woman who had known Eva through her sister.”

  “How did you do that?”

  “She’s in my knitting group, and she’s very tied in with local history. She was very open to telling me everything that she could about Eva.”

  “You’ll have to fill Damon in. He seems to know so little about her.”

  “I’d rather he told me what he knows.”

  She smiled at me and rubbed my upper arm. “I’m so grateful to you for looking into it for us. I knew you would.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m no expert at this.”

  “Maybe not, but you’re endlessly nosey.”

  I drew back and stared down my nose at her. “Thank you. That’s probably the sweetest compliment I’ve ever had.”

 

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