“Mr. Fairfield is not in that coffin. I lied to you and everyone.” She sniffled. “I paid to have a sculpture made. It looks real enough through the glass, but it’s not really Mr. Fair-field. He’s buried in Ohio, where I moved from.”
Tony was fascinated. In his tenure as sheriff, he had encountered some wackos, but Mrs. Fairfield was edging ahead in the race for the wackiest. “Why?” It sounded like “By.”
“Should I disconnect?” she whispered. “We could talk another time.”
“No. No. This is fine.” Tony wanted to get this case over with. “Why did you get the sculpture and why lie about it?”
“Well, I did want to keep my beloved husband at home with me, but I was told it was illegal.” Her voice grew stronger. “The makeup artist at the funeral home said she could make a sculpture that would look just like him, and there isn’t a law against owning a sculpture.” She released a giant shuddering sob. “I just can’t bear to lose him again.”
Tony stared at the telephone. Nothing in Sheriff School had addressed such a bizarre situation. “It’s fine. I’ll be in touch.” He disconnected, staring at Archie. “We have a change in our crime.”
Archie leaned forward, grasping his expensive pen in his professionally manicured hand. “What now?”
“Well, to start, there was no bobby snabbing.” Tony pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose. “There was a sculpture snabbing.”
Archie managed to look both relieved and invigorated. “All righty then, now we are getting somewhere, legally speaking. We can have the sculpture appraised for its value. That will determine part of the charge. Plus, as I understand it, the coffin is lined with copper. They don’t give that away. By the time we add up the value of coffin and sculpture, we should easily move into felony range.”
“Yes,” Tony agreed. “But those little ne’er-do-wells thought they had a real body.”
“True. I don’t think it matters, though, what they did or didn’t think. Thinking’s not illegal, you know.” Archie released a big sigh. “At least the little ferrets won’t have the really cool body snatcher title they were hoping for. They probably thought it would give them some status in prison. Now, it’s just plain thievery.”
Tony thought Archie was absolutely correct. The Carpenter boys were about to be disappointed. He smiled, feeling better just thinking about their misery.
“All right, let’s see what they have to say. Do the little darlings have an attorney?” Archie clicked the button on his pen.
“They do. They are busy having a group discussion right now,” Tony said. “Carl Lee Cashdollar is their attorney.”
“Of course he is. Heaven forbid the family would pay for a lawyer. Our poor overworked, underappreciated public defender, Carl Lee, gets to have all the fun.” Archie’s voice was filled with anger. “I can see him now, struggling to get a lucid answer out of a trio of hungover teenage thugs while still dealing with the loss of his father. The man should have some bereavement time off.”
Tony couldn’t dispute Archie’s assessment. The county didn’t have a huge budget for anything, much less free legal advice. There were only a couple of attorneys’ names on the list, which was one more than they’d had a few months ago. It didn’t help. Carl Lee’s new co-advocate had recently gone on maternity leave.
A knock on the door frame attracted both men’s attention. Ruth Ann, still armed with disinfecting wipes, said, “Carl Lee and his clients are waiting for you in the greenhouse.”
Tony and Archie trudged down the hall. The small interrogation room was packed. Carl Lee, plus three Carpenters, and a social worker assigned to them because the youngest Carpenter was only thirteen. The boys were dressed in jail orange and wore handcuffs and shackles. Deputy Darren Holt stood at the door. His hand rested on his taser. “Do you want them all at once?” Tony looked at Archie.
Archie looked at Carl Lee.
Carl Lee shook his head.
“Let’s just deal with the youngest first,” said Carl Lee. He sighed. Then he sneezed.
“Holt, take the older ones to the jail,” Tony instructed. “Hold on. I’ll get a jail deputy to help walk them over.” Tony spoke softly into his radio but leveled his stare on the two older boys. “We don’t want anyone developing delusions of turning this into a three-ring circus.”
While waiting as Deputy Holt and the jailer shepherded the older brothers out of the room and headed to their separate holding cells, Tony noticed an expression of relief mixed with resignation on the social worker’s face. He couldn’t find her name in his mucus-filled head. He apologized and she laughed. A pleasant woman doing a necessary, but not a fun, job.
“I’m JoAnn Nesbitt.” She offered her hand.
“I knew that.” Tony smiled but kept his hands by his side. “I have some wretched cold virus that stole my brain. Let’s just say we shook hands.”
“Thank you for the warning.” JoAnn settled into the chair next to her young client. She glanced at the teenager and then nodded to Calvin. “Sit down, Mr. Campbell, and let’s get on with it.”
To Tony, it felt like ten hours passed between the initial introduction and the removal of the youngest Carpenter to a juvenile unit. He glanced at JoAnn Nesbitt. The social worker looked older than she had when she’d arrived, and sat staring at the empty chair after young Carpenter had been led away.
“Ms. Nesbitt, are you staying for the brothers?”
“No!” She rose to her feet. “That is, I believe only this one of the pack is a juvenile. I believe I’ve had quite enough fun for one day. Gentlemen, you all have my thanks and admiration.”
Tony’s hearing was a bit fuzzy but he thought he heard her say “good luck,” as she slipped through the doorway, moving fast.
THE COFFIN QUILT THIRD BODY OF CLUES
Block Two:
Using 14 squares 3″ of fabrics (B) and (D), draw a diagonal line on wrong side of the lighter of the two fabrics. Place right sides together. Stitch 1/4″ from both sides of the drawn line. Cut on line and open, pressing to the darker fabric. Clip “ears” and trim blocks to 2 5/8″ square. Make 28 squares.
Stack the squares with fabric (B) in lower right corner. Remove 14 squares, rotate (B) to lower left corner. Place this stack above the other. Sew upper stack squares onto lower stacked squares—being careful not to rotate them. Press to dark. Turn half of the 14 rectangles and align next to remaining stack. A pinwheel of (D) should be seen. Sew together.
Turn to the back, hold the seam near the center with thumbs, and gently twist. It will release a stitch or two, forming tiny pinwheel on back and allow you to press each end of the seam to the darker fabric and lay flat.
Using 14 of the squares 4″ of fabric (B), cut once on diagonal. Sew resulting triangles to the pinwheel block on two opposing sides, press to triangles. Sew remaining triangles on opposite sides. Press to triangles. Trim. Blocks should measure 6 1/2″. Make 7. Set aside.
Cut the seven 7 1/4″ squares of fabric (B) diagonally twice in X, making 28 large triangles with long side on straight of grain. Cut the remaining 3 7/8″ squares of fabric (C) once diagonally. Take care not to stretch the bias edges of triangles—sew the long edge of one (C) to each diagonal cut on fabric (B) and form a rectangle—flying geese block. Press to darker fabric. Trim carefully to 6 1/2″ by 3 1/2″ block Make 28.
Using 14 of the flying geese blocks, place the triangles of (C) next to two opposing sides of the pinwheel square, pointing away from center. Sew. Press away from pinwheel.
Sew 3 1/2″ squares of fabric (B) on each end of remaining 14 flying geese rectangles. Press toward points. Sew onto remaining opposing sides of pinwheel blocks, forming star. Press.
Label Block Two. Make 7.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Tony was not going to have the other two Carpenters in the same room at the same time. “Let’s see what Carpenter Number Two has to say.” He blinked. His tired and now cold-infected eyes felt like they were on fire in his head. He half-expecte
d to see flames in his reflection on the small window.
Carpenter Number Two, as Tony thought of him, was the smallest of the brothers. Wiry and short, his arms were bones covered with sinew. Tony guessed he could beat up both of his larger brothers at the same time. He had fight to the finish and no surrender written all over him. Unfortunately for Park County, he had the same two mottoes written all over his jail records. Carpenter Number Two had apparently arrived angry and then got worse. Brothers One and Three had never said anything slightly derogatory about him or had even implied that Number Two had ever been part of any criminal endeavor. Other witnesses had reluctantly spoken against him. Secrecy was crucial to their continued good health.
Tony put Number Two in shackles for the interview. There wasn’t a single person in law enforcement in the adjoining states of North Carolina, Kentucky, and Virginia who was stupid enough to let him sit unchained. To date his offenses had not crossed into anything that would get him life imprisonment, but if he wasn’t just a little careful, he was going to accumulate enough bad deeds to keep him away from the rest of the world for a long, long time.
Number Two slouched as well as he could with his arms and legs chained to each other. He glared at Archie Campbell and then Tony. “You’ve got nothing.”
“Shut up.” Carl Lee prodded his client with the point of his pen before looking at Tony. “He has nothing to say.”
As irritated as Tony was, he felt sorry for Carl Lee. He’d hate to have to be even nominally on Number Two’s side. “Okay.” Tony tapped on the door and spoke to Darren. “Take this one back and bring in the smart brother.”
The reaction he got was a lot like dropping a match on gasoline. When Tony was still a boy, his brothers Gus and Tiberius had blown up a wasp nest with a firecracker while he and their sister watched. This was just about as exciting.
“You think he’s smarter than me? He can’t do anything unless I tell him to.” Number Two’s shackles rattled and spittle flew from his lips. “He’s too dumb to . . . um . . .” He stopped talking the second his brain managed to send a feeble message to his mouth. “I mean. Well, you know.”
“Oh, yeah.” Tony had to smile. “I do know.” He loved having it all recorded on video.
Carpenter Number One, the oldest, didn’t have the will or the brain to come up with a plan, criminal or otherwise. Tony doubted the boy could add French fries to a sandwich order, if it wasn’t part of a meal package. Number One was the best looking of the three brothers. He was tall, well-muscled, and he even combed his hair. Rumor had listed several teenage girls recently giving birth to his offspring. Number One didn’t claim any of them but his denial was not going to convince the paternity tests being run.
Strictly speaking, Number One was not unintelligent. The boy could read and passed the tests moving him up the school ladder; he was just . . . just . . . Tony searched his brain and thesaurus for the word he needed. Obtuse? No, maybe imperceptive.
Tony had gone to school with the Carpenters’ father. Like Number One, he had been a good-looking youth with no ambition and no moral fiber at all. The three Carpenter boys currently in his jail were not the only Carpenter offspring. A couple of older ones had left the county before Tony took office. He was sure they were either in jail, or about to be, in some other lucky sheriff’s jurisdiction.
No matter what other traits and appearances they possessed, or who the mother was, every single known or suspected Carpenter, son or daughter, had the same, very distinctive lobe-less right ear. Somewhere along the way, something had created the odd genetic pattern.
“Who do you suppose gets invited to the Carpenter family reunion?” Wade had asked once. “Just the ones with the name, or do they add in the ones with the undeniable appearance?”
Tony had been in the process of lifting a mug of coffee to his lips. Wade’s comment created an unplanned movement, sending a plume of coffee sailing from the mug. After Tony had cleaned the coffee he’d spilled off his desk, he gave some consideration to the question. “It seems unlikely that no one in the families has noticed the resemblance. Still, I imagine the party is open only to the official offspring.”
“Well, I’d just as soon not get invited to that party.” Wade didn’t smile. “They’re not in the same socially deviant league as the Farquars, but still, I can’t imagine spending that much time with them en masse.”
Tony agreed. The Farquar family had managed to produce enough deviant felons to populate not only their jail but the state penitentiary. The leader—if a word like that could be applied to a man like Angus Farquar—made the Carpenters look clean, sweet and law abiding. “We’ve stalled long enough.” Tony blew his nose and gulped some water. “Let’s go see what he has to say.”
Carpenter Number One sat quietly in his chair. He wasn’t fidgeting or playing with his shackles. He stared quietly at the papers spread across the table with no evident curiosity.
“Mr. Cashdollar.” Tony moved in and took a seat. “Have you had a chance to talk to your client?”
“Yeah.” Number One’s voice was flat, without any expression. “I didn’t do nothin’.”
“Oddly, that’s not exactly the information I’ve received from witnesses.” Tony thumbed through a large stack of papers.
“Someone musta paid them to lie.” Number One spat on the floor.
Carl Lee leaned close to his client and whispered furiously in the ear with no lobe. “Or else” were the only words said loudly enough to be heard across the table. Judging from the way the young man’s spine straightened, whatever Carl Lee said to him seemed to have been received as it was supposed to be. Carl Lee sat back, glanced at Tony, and gave a little nod.
“Would you like to confess?”
Number One looked like he’d rather spit on the floor again, but he said, “Yes, sir.”
“You’ll get to clean the floor when you’re done with your confession.” Tony was not going to let the weasel get away with possibly infecting one of their office mice with some Carpenter family disease.
When the bell on the shop door rang, Theo glanced up and recognized Miss Dawson. She was the newer of the two third-grade teachers at the county’s elementary school.
Her first year in Silersville, Miss Dawson had Chris as a student. Tony and Theo had met her, of course, during parent-teacher conferences and other school events. Because she liked the boy and he liked her and his grades were good, there had not been many conferences.
Perky. That’s how Theo always thought of Miss Dawson. She was long-limbed and lanky and could frequently be seen jogging with her long dark hair pulled into a bouncy ponytail. Her passion, besides teaching, was long-distance running. There was a photograph in her classroom of her crossing the finish line of the New York City Marathon.
If Miss Dawson had a social life, it was led quietly. There had been a few teachers over the years whose names appeared on the newspaper list of DWI’s. The school board frowned on that, and rightly so.
Theo was surprised to find the jogger in her shop. She was dressed in her teacher’s garb and still managed to look like she was poised to dash out. “Mrs. Abernathy?”
“Yes.” Theo smiled and walked closer. “Miss Dawson. How are you?”
“What lovely colors.” The teacher turned in a slow circle. “I’m not sure I could pick my favorite.”
“Thank you.” Theo waited, assuming now that the teacher was looking for a donation of some merchandise as part of a fundraiser for the track team. “Can I help you?”
“I hope so.” Her expression became quite intense. “You know Blossom Flowers pretty well—at least that’s my understand-ing—and I need you to help me stop her from making a terrible mistake.”
As a conversation opener, Theo thought it was mesmerizing. Miss Dawson had her full attention. “Yes, I’ve known Blossom for a long time. What’s the problem?”
“Well, I don’t feel like I know her well enough to announce, at least not to her, that I think she’s making a mistak
e by marrying Kenny Baines. She might take it the wrong way.”
Blindsided, Theo wondered how a statement like that could be taken the right way. “You have some reason not to approve of Kenny?”
Miss Dawson sighed. “I didn’t express the problem very well because I’m so upset. I’ll start over.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “I saw Kenny kissing another woman, just yesterday. I don’t know Blossom very well, but I think she deserves better.”
The idea of Kenny cheating on Blossom was ludicrous, but not theoretically impossible. Theo didn’t have enough facts. “Where did you see this?”
“I happened to be visiting the parents of a student. They live in Kenny’s neighborhood.” She sighed again. “Please remember, I know Kenny and his girls from school. I’m not a stalker and I have no personal interest in the man.”
Theo smiled. “I appreciate your clearing that up.”
“Anyway, I was climbing out of my car, checking my papers and jotting a last-minute note, and about that time, Kenny pulled into his driveway. All of a sudden the woman next door to him rushed out of her house, ran over to Kenny, and planted a major kiss on the man. She wore nothing but a sheer peach nightgown.”
“And did he fight her?” Theo had to admit it sounded suspicious.
“I don’t know. I went into my student’s home.” Miss Dawson shook her head. “It could have meant nothing, but it bothered me and I’d hate to see anyone get hurt.”
Theo called Nina. Her best friend taught French at the high school.
While she did not know Miss Dawson well, she did know the woman had a decent reputation. In all matters. Nina said, “I can’t imagine she’d make up a story like this one, just to break up Blossom and Kenny. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, at least not as far as I know, but I’d guess Kenny Baines is not someone she’s interested in.”
“Well, you’ve lived here as long as I have—actually longer, because you stayed here while we were in Chicago,” Theo said. “I’ve never met Kenny’s neighbor woman, have you?”
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