The Devil's Bones

by Carolyn Haines

  To give Erik a little private snooze time, I went back to the kitchen. Donna Dickerson was singing “Mustang Sally” and doing a little chair dancing as she sat at the kitchen table stirring up a batch of batter for French toast. She was crumbling up pralines in the batter. “How does French toast sound?” she asked.

  “Delicious. But I’ll wait for Tinkie to wake up. I should tell you Erik Ward is asleep on the sofa in my room. He’s a fugitive from the law.”

  “You know Sheriff Glory has her ranch not far from here. I could give her a call and she’d ride over on Raylee and lasso that naughty rascal.” Obviously, Donna didn’t take Erik seriously as a suspect for murder.

  “I’ll drive him to town when he gets up.” I sighed. “What’s going on here, Donna? You’ve lived here all your life. Why is someone suddenly killing people in those lovely gardens?”

  “Perry Slay was a gnat in the eye of mankind. Patrice, well, the most charitable thing I can say is that they should skip the funeral because no one is going to mourn her passing.”

  “I read an article where she attacked a heritage camellia in Erik’s yard. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Oh, she did worse than just chop off a few limbs. She poisoned that poor shrub.”

  “That’s just awful.” Why would anyone carry out a vendetta on a plant?

  “It sure is. Glory could never prove it, but she knew it was Patrice. We all knew it. There are still people in town who cross the street when they see her because they have such hard feelings. That camellia bush was part of the town’s history. It was planted there when Erik’s house was the first Methodist church. It was a sign of God’s beauty put there for all to witness as they entered.”

  “And Patrice hated it because it touched her property line?” I wasn’t getting something.

  “She hated everything about Erik. His handsome good looks, his easy charm, the way people flocked to be around him. He had qualities she’d never aspire to because her personality was just like biting into a green persimmon. She’d make your mouth pucker and your eyes water and put you in a place where you might consider inducing vomiting just to get rid of the taste.”

  “Okay, then. Did anyone else really hate Patrice?”

  “How much time do you have? She’d pissed off everyone in the county one way or the other. She tried to stop trick-or-treating, ’cause she said it worshipped evil. She stood in the middle of Main Street and blocked the Christmas parade because she said it was unholy. She tried to get the area churches to boycott the Garden of Bones because of the children’s Easter egg hunt, which she said was pagan. She was against everything that gave anyone a smidgen of pleasure. Which is probably why she hated Erik so much. Folks love him. There’s always a cluster of customers in his drugstore, just hanging out. It’s become a gathering place to talk about ideas and solutions for some of the things that need fixing around here. Erik’s been trying to find investors to bring in a bowling alley or movie theater or Putt-Putt golf. Something for the young people to do. But there’s big opposition to that, too, and Patrice was the loudest voice. She felt like she’d had nothing coming up, and that young people should just suffer like she did. Then again, she didn’t have a single idea in her head, so I’ve always kind of thought someone was egging her on to be so disagreeable.”

  This was an interesting avenue. “You mean using her to block progress in town?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Who would do that?” What kind of person would be against movies or Putt-Putt?

  “Who would it harm to have some entertainment for teens? And grown-ups, too. Frankly I think there were interests across the state line paying the churches to rail against these things.”

  I didn’t know the community well enough to make a guess. “Do you have any ideas who these people might be?”

  “I have some theories but no facts. Is it possible, though, that Patrice finally realized she was being used and was going to do something about it? Like blow the whistle on the people who want to keep everything exactly the way it is in town.”

  “And since Erik is already charged with the murder of Perry Slay, why not pin this one on him, too?” It was another fascinating possibility. “Do you know anyone who had a beef with Erik, Patrice, and Slay?” The location of the Garden of Bones as a body dump seemed to connect both murders and Erik.

  “Perry and Patrice were despised. Not Erik, though. Maybe it’s just someone killing off warts on society. Could be they want to put Dr. Reynolds out of business.”

  Yowza. Donna Dickerson didn’t hold back. I liked her a lot. “Can you name someone—just a lead. Someone I could talk to, not an accusation.”

  “The sheriff has had her problems with both Perry and Patrice. She might not tell you, but she didn’t love either of them. You might talk to Leda Sellers at the local newspaper. Perry was always going on and on and on about suing the newspaper for a story he didn’t like. He never had a leg to stand on, but that didn’t stop him from being a total pain in the keister.”

  “Thanks, Donna.”

  The phone rang and Donna answered. “Sure thing,” she said and hung up. “Glory is stopping by for some of my special praline French toast this morning.” She looked at the big clock in the kitchen. “She should be here any minute. Just so you know.”

  It was time to rise and shine. “Thanks. Let me shake my crew out of bed. This is the perfect chance for me to talk to the sheriff. My boyfriend, who is also a sheriff, is headed this way today. I think he and Glory would see eye to eye.”

  “She’s the best law officer around. Now you’d better hurry if you don’t want Erik and Glory running into each other.”

  I took off for my room and roused Erik. He’d wisely parked his car down a trail near the B&B and he slipped out the window he’d come in. “See you in town,” he said as he took off running across the back lawn of the inn.

  I got Tinkie up with the promise of French toast, and went to see if Cece had returned. She hadn’t. I was worried, but if she was working on a break in her career, I had to back off. I did text her just in case.

  Where are you? I’m concerned.

  Cece replied: I’m perfectly fine. Have some big news. Headed back to the B&B. Don’t tell Tinkie, please. She doesn’t need to worry.

  OK. See you soon. I wanted to grill her on the spot, but I’d wait to talk to her in person. I knew Cece well enough to know she wasn’t flirting with Hans. Whatever they were up to was strictly business. Cece loved Jaytee, and the bond they shared was powerful. Hans was certainly attractive and fun, but Cece’s heart was in Jaytee’s pocket. She was not the kind of person to betray her love. So what were Cece and Hans up to? My curiosity was an itch that would ultimately have to be scratched.

  When I went back by Tinkie’s room, she was coming out. She’d thrown on some clothes and made a pass at her hair, but this was not the normally coiffed and classy Tinkie Bellcase Richmond, Queen Bee of the Daddy’s Girls. Man, if pregnancy could knock Tinkie from that throne, I was going to run from it like the plague.

  “You okay?” I linked her arm through mine.

  “I’m exhausted.” She looked at me. “I want this baby so much, Sarah Booth, but I feel like a parasite is devouring me.”

  I couldn’t help it. I laughed out loud. “And oh, what a special and remarkable parasite it will be.”

  “Don’t mock me. I can barely put one foot in front of the other. She’s draining my energy supply and my brain.”

  I took pity because she did look exhausted. I didn’t point out that she and Oscar had made it very clear they didn’t want to know the gender of their baby. It could as easily be a he. “This is the worst stage for being tired.” I’d read a few books. “At least you don’t have morning sickness.”

  “Oh, don’t even mention such a thing. I’m tired and hungry all the time.”

  “It might not be pregnancy, Tinkie.” I hugged her. “And if it is, remember, this is what you’ve always wanted. Nothing we really w
ant is easy. You’ve sacrificed so much for this, and now you just have to relax, accept that the next few months you’re going to yield your physical body to grow the baby you’ve always wanted. Think about that. You are going to bring a new life into this crazy old world.”

  “That terrifies me. What if I’m not a good mother?”

  My snort of laughter was sincere. Tinkie would be the best mother. She was tender and kind and giving. She was generous with her money, but she was even more generous with her heart. “This will be the luckiest child ever born.”

  “I’m really scared.” Her blue eyes were wide with emotion.

  I was, too, but I wasn’t going to say it. “Your baby will be surrounded by people who love him or her unconditionally. Your baby is going to have a marvelous life.”

  Tinkie stopped and stepped in front of me. She pulled me close. “I love you, Sarah Booth. More than if you were my sister. Thank you.”

  11

  We entered the kitchen just as Glory Howard stepped in the back door. She was all business in her brown uniform with the gold star pinned to her chest. She joined us in the dining area and took a seat at the table with me and Tinkie.

  The front door opened and I heard Cece’s distinctive laugh. She came in with Hans and an armload of stargazer lilies. Once the flowers were in water, they joined us just as Donna put a platter of French toast and bacon on the table. Maple syrup and butter were already there.

  We helped ourselves, and I felt Glory’s gaze on me. The chatter around the table was light as Cece and Tinkie asked questions about the town and its history. Glory and Donna gave the facts and a few yarns. When the dishes were cleared and we were sipping a final cup of coffee, Glory turned to business.

  “I got the autopsy report on Patrice Pepperdine. They’re not through running the complete tox screen, but we have cause of death.”

  This was not going to be good. I could tell from her expression. “How did she die?”

  “She didn’t drown.”

  Which meant someone had hauled a body to the Dead Sea and dumped it. “So then … what did kill her?” I asked my question again.

  “Another case of poisoning.”

  “More hemlock?”

  She shook her head. “Herbicide. It’s allegedly the same poison she used to kill Erik Ward’s camellias. Not so easy to buy and highly toxic. You almost have to get it from a professional landscaper or nursery.”

  “She was poisoned with her own killer potion?” Tinkie asked.

  “I don’t think so. Meaning I don’t think it was hers. We found a partially used container of the herbicide in Erik Ward’s garden shed.”

  “Are his prints on it?”

  “The container was wiped clean.”

  This was not good at all.

  Glory focused in on me. “Where did Erik go this morning when he left here?”

  I took a deep breath. No point denying it. Glory knew Erik had been here and it wasn’t Donna who told her. I’d been with Donna the entire time. “I don’t know where he is. Last time I saw him he was asleep in my room.”

  Cece’s and Tinkie’s heads swiveled around to look at me. “Say what?” Cece said.

  “He showed up early this morning. He said he couldn’t go home because there were deputies watching his house. I let him stay so we could decide how to turn him in. Last I saw him he was napping on the sofa.” This wasn’t the complete truth, but I didn’t see the point in admitting that I’d watched him make his getaway.

  “Did he tell you where he’d been?” Glory asked.

  “He said he had an alibi for the time of Patrice’s murder, but he wouldn’t tell me where he was.”

  “If he really had an alibi, don’t you think he’d come forward with it?” Glory asked matter-of-factly.

  I had to admit, I saw her point. But I still couldn’t believe Erik was a cold-blooded killer. “I just don’t believe he killed anyone.”

  “Me either,” Tinkie and Cece said in chorus.

  Glory shrugged. “Bring him to the courthouse and let him turn himself in. That’s the best thing. There’s talk in town and it’s ugly.”

  That unnerved me. “What kind of talk?”

  “Erik is well liked, but folks are getting spooked with rumors of a serial killer at work. Now, if you know where he is, get him up to the courthouse pronto.”

  “If we see him, we’ll strongly urge him to go to the sheriff’s office,” I promised.

  “Could I have a word with you?” Glory asked.

  I followed her out onto the lovely porch where lemon trees, with all their heady fragrance, were budded out. Honeybees buzzed all around the citrus plants. I inhaled. “This is so wonderful.”

  “You need to bring Erik in. And don’t let him come back to Donna’s. That puts her in a bad position.”

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea he’d come here. If he shows up, I’ll bring him to the courthouse.”

  She nodded. “I could charge you, but I honestly doubt that Erik killed anyone. Still, he has to answer the charges and he is violating his bail. He needs to turn himself in ASAP.”

  “When I see him, I’ll make sure.”

  Glory started to turn away, but I caught her arm. “Has anyone recently filed a complaint against Snaith for any of his concoctions?”

  “Not recently.”

  “I’d like a copy of the autopsy on Pepperdine.”

  “When it’s official, I’ll share that with you.”

  “This herbicide that was used to kill her. How does one go about buying it?”

  “That’s exactly what I intend to find out,” Glory said. “You might ask your client. He did have some in his gardening shed.”

  Oh, I intended to squeeze some truth out of Erik as soon as I found him. That or drop him as a client. If I couldn’t trust him to do the smart thing, it was crazy of me and Tinkie to try to defend him.

  “I think the common link to the murders is the gardens, not Erik.” I put that theory out to Glory.

  “Both Slay and Pepperdine had a large number of enemies. Most folks love Dr. Reynolds, but there are those who are disgruntled by the popularity of the gardens. Jealousy is such an ugly human emotion. And some people actually think the gardens are a bad idea, even though Dr. Reynolds is so careful to plant native species.”

  “Cosmo Constantine would be one such person.”

  “He’s one of them, but Cosmo has always struck me as a gentle soul.”

  “Does he have an alibi for the murders?” I knew Glory had checked it out. She was a professional.

  “He doesn’t. But he’s alone most of the time. That’s just who he is. But I haven’t cleared him of all suspicions.”

  “And he hates the gardens. Maybe killing people there is his way of putting Dr. Reynolds out of business.”

  “Maybe, but that’s a far stretch, don’t you think?”

  I did, but I didn’t say so. “Who else are you looking at? Tinkie, Cece, and I could help. We mainly want to clear Erik but we can also check out some leads. You’re pretty shorthanded. You have a big county and not a lot of help.”

  “There’s not enough funding for more deputies. You’re right about that. Sure, I’d appreciate the help.”

  “Great.” I told her Coleman would be arriving after lunch and would be happy to consult with her if she wanted him to.

  “Sheriff Coleman Peters,” she said. “I met him at a law officers conference once. Sure, I’d love to bend his ear about this case.”

  “One more question. Do you know where Patrice was killed?”

  “We haven’t found the original crime scene. Her house hasn’t been disturbed. There didn’t appear to be any altercations around Erik’s yard or garden shed. We’re still looking.”

  “How would the killer get the body to the Dead Sea, and why leave it there?”

  “That’s a question that needs an answer,” Glory said. “My guess is that the killer rolled the body there in some kind of cart.” She gave me a steady stare. “Dr.
Reynolds has a cart in the shed by his office. I’ve spoken with him and he said he doesn’t keep the shed locked. We searched the premises and he doesn’t have any of that herbicide. Nor did Cosmo, who nearly flipped out at the thought of herbicide being used in that ‘delicate ecosystem.’ Reynolds’s house is about a quarter of a mile deeper in the woods from the parking lot and sheds, so it’s possible that someone could have driven up, gotten the cart, unloaded a body, and pushed it to the Dead Sea.”

  “That’s an awful lot of work.”

  She nodded. “Which means that the garden location is worth a lot of effort to the killer, for whatever his or her reasons. It’s not a body dump site of convenience.”

  “Her?” No one had mentioned anything about a female killer.

  “Poison is typically a woman’s method of murder. It’s just a possibility. I looked at the cart in Dr. Reynolds’s shed. It wouldn’t take too much strength to haul a body around the gardens if the woman was physically fit. Like you.”

  “Am I a suspect?” I was a little surprised.

  “No. I was just making a point. We don’t know enough to rule anyone out.” She put her hat on. “Now get Erik back in my office before I have to hunt for him. That would make me annoyed. He’s going to like me a lot better when I’m not annoyed.”

  “I’ll do what I can.” Her attitude was more than reasonable; Erik would do well to obey her orders. From the looks of it, he was safer in jail than out. At least if the killer kept racking up a body count, Erik couldn’t be blamed if he was behind bars.

  “When you get the full tox screen on Pepperdine, don’t forget to let me know.” As a pharmacist, Erik could explain how the herbicide worked, and that might prove helpful.