I thought she’d have a fit at Adele’s presence, but they hugged each other carefully, so as not to muss Cora’s outfit. I was coming to understand the primary cause of their feud had been Adele’s anger that Cora had walked out on Jerry over the use of a building. I thought it expedient not to point out that she was now moving back in with him because of the use of a building.
Jerry and Cora each carried a box. Jerry’s was recognizable as holding a corsage. He opened it and lovingly pinned a cluster of white orchids with burgundy centers on Cora’s jacket. I was relieved that her corsage looked more expensive than the one he’d bought me just two weeks earlier.
Another car pulled in, and the fiddler from The Blue Grass emerged. He was dressed in a tuxedo and carried his violin case. Everyone arranged themselves on the greenest area of the lawn. The violinist bowed and played “The Autumn Waltz” in sweet tones.
Within minutes, the bride and groom exchanged rings and were pronounced husband and wife, and Jerry leaned down to kiss his blushing bride. Adele pinched my arm and winked.
“Time for some refreshments,” I suggested when the two lovebirds came up for air.
“We have one more thing to do first,” Cora proclaimed. “How long a walk is it to the river?”
I had no idea what she was up to, but I said, “Less than a quarter mile to the clearing with the cabin foundation. Why?”
Cora was already slipping on a pair of sneakers, and she picked up the box she’d brought with her.
“Let’s go,” she said.
We began the short walk in silence, but soon our small company was chatting about everything from the fine day to the fate of the Halloway rubies.
When we reached the river’s edge, Cora laid the box on a cinder block and opened it. She extracted a hatchet. I shot her a questioning look.
“The very one, Ana.” She held it level in her two hands, like a presentation scepter. “Not the murder weapon, but the one sent to me. That makes it mine anyway, don’t you think?”
I shook my head in wonder.
“Detective Milford said it wasn’t evidence since it was not connected with any crime except possibly harassment.”
Cora and Jerry stepped closer to the water. Jerry spoke up. “Cora, it’s time to bury the hatchet. For good.”
“Agreed, old man,” Cora teased.
They held the hatchet between them and swung it back and forth. “One, two, three,” they chanted in unison, releasing their hold.
The nasty weapon sailed in a high arc above blue ripples reflecting the sky. It turned over in a lazy flip, descended and hit the water with a satisfying splash, where it sank out of sight forever.
###
Notes and Acknowledgements
The old school building in this book is a composite of two real schools. The exterior is based on the closed building in the town where I currently reside. The interior is very tightly modeled on the school I attended as a child. That building is still in use. There's no denying that the structures where we learned and experienced so much as children become a part of our adult make-up. Some towns are making an effort to preserve these buildings and give them a new life with a new role. This book celebrates all such efforts.
I would like to thank my volunteer beta readers: Lexi Stamper, Barry Matthews, and D. Glen Jackson. No author can catch all mistakes, and I know this book has been improved by their input. After all is said and done, I take responsibility for any errors.
About the Author
Joan Young has enjoyed the out-of-doors her entire life. Highlights of her outdoor adventures include Girl Scouting, which provided yearly training in camp skills, the opportunity to engage in a ten-day canoe trip, and numerous short backpacking excursions. She was selected to attend the 1965 Senior Scout Roundup in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, an international event to which 10,000 girls were invited. She has ridden a bicycle from the Pacific to the Atlantic Ocean in 1986, and on August 3, 2010 became the first woman to complete the North Country National Scenic Trail on foot. Her mileage totaled 4395 miles. She often writes about her outdoor experiences.
Recently, she has begun writing more fiction, with several award-winning short stories awaiting publication at Twin Trinity Media. Bury the Hatchet in Dead Mule Swamp is the fourth story in the Anastasia Raven mystery series.
Other titles in the Anastasia Raven series:
#1 News from Dead Mule Swamp
#2 The Hollow Tree at Dead Mule Swamp
#3 Paddy Plays in Dead Mule Swamp
Other titles by Joan H. Young:
Get Off the Couch with Joan
Fall Off the Couch Laughing
Devotions for Hikers
Connect with Joan online:
Author Blog: Shark Bytes and Tales
Personal Blog: My Quality Day
Facebook: jhyshark
Anastasia Raven mysteries fan page
Bury the Hatchet in Dead Mule Swamp Page 24