Nobody Knows Your Secret

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Nobody Knows Your Secret Page 5

by Green, Jeri


  With the wheelbarrow in hand, they made their way back to the house.

  “Okay Beanie, let’s get this show on the road,” Hadley said, bending over to pick up empty beer cans that marked a path from the shed to the house. “Looks like hoarding is thirsty work. Eustian would have likely died of a pickled liver if Rayna’s crust hadn’t gotten him first.

  “Hey, Bean! I think we have every brand of beer Pixies sells represented in these cans. My guess is Eustian needed a can path to find his way from the shed and back to the house, like following bread crumbs in that fairy tale.

  “Go to the back seat of the car, Beanie, and get that box of big, black garbage bags. We can bag up these aluminum cans for the recycle center instead of throwing them in the landfill.”

  “I pick up cans all the time, Hadley,” Beanie said.

  “Anything we can keep out of the dump helps Mother Nature,” said Hadley.

  “Yeah,” Beanie said. “But Mother Nature gets awful mad at me, sometimes.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, sometimes Mother Nature sends bees after me. You know, especially in dope cans.”

  “Beanie,” Hadley said, “be careful when you’re picking up those sweet soda pop cans.”

  “I like a dope, now and then. But the empties sure do pack a wallop if they’re full of bees ,n’ waspers.”

  “Beanie,” Hadley said, suddenly thinking of Kyle, “I know the old-timers call soda pop ‘dope.’ When soda pop first came out, it had real dope in it. But maybe you should try to call soda pop just plain old soda pop. Folks might get the wrong idea when you say you like dope.”

  “I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me, Hadley,” Beanie said. “You talk over my head, most times. But for you, I’ll call dope a sodie pop.”

  “Good, Bean,” Hadley said. “You do that for me.”

  “You got any dope,” Beanie said, “I mean sodie in your cooler?”

  “Yeah, boy,” Hadley said. “We’ll get us one in a little while.”

  “Okay,” Beanie said.

  With many huge bags full of beer cans tied up and ready to recycle, they turned their attention to the rest of the yard. A stained, old winged-back chair stood on a bare patch of ground. Its springs were sticking out of the ragged cushion. The arms were weathered black. The battered material on the back was split and worn thin. It became the first item they tossed into the dumpster. Hadley grabbed one side and Beanie grabbed the other. Together they began walking it to the waiting bin.

  “This thing’s weathered a lot of storms,” Hadley said. “It’s been sitting out here for a coon’s age. The grass is dead under it.”

  “Old Mr. Singlepenny got the goodie out of this chair, Hadley,” Beanie said.

  “Yeah,” Hadley said. “This was probably his throne where he looked out and surveyed his kingdom.”

  Beanie dropped his half of the chair immediately.

  “What’s wrong?” Hadley asked.

  “When I sit on my throne at home, Hadley,” Beanie said, “I do real bad things in it. So bad, I have to flush it right away.”

  “Oh, Beanie. This isn’t a toilet. It’s Eustian’s roost.”

  “His settin’ chair.”

  “Yes. His settin’ chair. Not his toilet chair. Figure of speech, Beanie. Just a figure of speech. Now, pick up your end, and let’s give her the old heave ho into the dumpster.”

  A vintage telephone booth, minus the phone, stood guard beside an old toilet – the real deal, a throne, abandoned on the spot where Eustian had tossed it. Empty crates, buckets, flower pots, a dented tuba, old car fenders, and stacks and piles of debris were scattered about the yard. Twenty-five black bowling balls were lined up on the ground like discarded cannonballs. Hadley was amazed at the variety of junk Eustian had collected and dumped here and there and everywhere.

  They worked steadily until lunch. After devouring their baloney sandwiches, they rested for a while.

  “Your lunch have time to settle?” Hadley asked.

  “I don’t think I’ll get a cramp if I go in swimmin’, if that’s what you mean,” Beanie said.

  Hadley looked confused.

  “Figure of speech,” said Beanie. “Just a figure of speech.”

  Hadley laughed.

  “Come on, then,” Hadley said. “Let’s dive in!”

  They hauled wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of junk and dumped them into the dumpster.

  “You know Bean,” Hadley said, “I think Eustian must have been trying to create his own dump way out here.”

  “Yeah, I wonder where he got his stuff from,” Beanie said.

  “Some of this looks kinda old and then some of it looks sorta new,” said Hadley, picking up a keyboard and putting it into the wheelbarrow. “I think I heard rumors about somebody going to the lot behind the Thrift Store at night and helping themselves to the donations people dropped off for the needy. But most of this stuff just looks like somebody took a truck and helped themselves at the dump. I guess Eustian was just a collector of all things without specializing in any specific theme. Unless landfill qualifies, I think.”

  Together, they cleared a large swath to the porch. They sat down on the top step to the porch to drink a bottle of water. The porch wrapped around the front of the house and was a repository for all kinds of useless things.

  A surfboard rested against a headless department store manikin. Nineteen plastic pink flamingos were entangled in an orgy of disarray. An old cast iron cook stove sprouted mops, golf clubs, and a rusty scythe from its eye holes. A huge rocking horse balanced on top of an ironing board. Every crack and cranny of the porch was filled with books, boots, and automobile parts.

  “Well Beanie, looks like we got plenty more stuff to feed the dumpster,” Hadley said as she got up and stretched.

  Beanie positioned the wheelbarrow next to the porch and loaded it with junk. They worked and worked until, at last, the floorboards were exposed.

  “That’s probably the first time this porch flooring has seen the light of day in decades. How are you holding out, Bean?” Hadley asked.

  “Okay. I guess. This is kind of like a treasure hunt, but I ain’t seen no treasure worth keeping.”

  Hadley and Beanie decided to call it a day. Tomorrow, they would tackle the inside of the house.

  As Beanie got into the car, he looked over his shoulder and said “Do you think anything has messed with the string we wove through the house when we were here last time? If I see a ghost, I wanna make sure I can get out of there as fast as possible.”

  “Don’t worry Bean,” Hadley replied. “We got the rattlesnake out of there on our last visit, and I’ve never heard of such a thing as a venomous ghost.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “This pot roast is really good, Hadley,” Bill said.

  Maury and Bill were over for the weekly Thursday supper at Hadley’s.

  “Thanks.” I added some paprika and cayenne pepper to the spice rub. I figured we all could use a little jazzy pizazzy this late in the week.”

  “You got that right,” said Maury. “This is the first night Bill’s sat down to a real supper all week.”

  “Kyle’s murder’s got everybody on pins and needles,” Bill said. “I feel like a hound dog chasin’ my tail. You wouldn’t believe how many false alarms have been called in this week. Somebody hears a twig pop after dark, and they’re on the horn callin’ the station. I can’t blame ’em, though.”

  “I haven’t slept a wink since Kyle was killed,” Maury said.

  “You haven’t slept a wink since you were born,” Hadley said. “But I know what you mean. I’m on high alert, myself. I hate being like this. My radar seems to go up with every unusual sound.

  “The house settles, Onus is antsy, and a thousand other little things I never used to pay any attention to have me stopping and listening and wondering if I should be wary. I really hate what this cad has done to our sleepy little village.”

  “Well,” Bill said, “our little
village hasn’t been as sleepy as you might think for a very long time. It would turn your hair white to know the number of people around these hollows who are users. I go to homes every week where kids are dirty and moms and dads are strung out. Maybe they’ve gotten into a fight that turned bad. It makes me sick to see how these drugs have messed up so many lives.”

  “I know,” Hadley said. “When Kyle broke into the garage and stole all that stuff, I was mortified to learn he’d burglarized my home to pay for his drug habit. I knew he was a handful. But I thought it was alcohol. I had no idea.”

  “I know,” said Maury. “It’s easy to get lost in our little bubble and forget about the problems so many around us have and are going through.”

  “Virgie came to see me,” Hadley said. “My heart broke for her. First, that awful accident at the amusement park.”

  “I know,” Maury said. “Claire was such a beautiful girl. I don’t know how Virgie stood it. If something like that ever happened to Skip, I’d die. But a mother’s love is strong. I guess that’s what got Virgie through. She had to be strong for her daughter.”

  “But Claire was never the same,” Hadley said. “She quit school. Just sort of drifted.”

  “Right into trouble,” Bill added.

  “I know,” Hadley said. “Claire getting pregnant with Kyle only added to Virgie’s problems.”

  “Don’t you know I was shocked to hear who Kyle’s daddy was,” Maury said. “Cliff McKinney!”

  “I don’t think Claire knew who the father was,” said Hadley. “And I don’t think Cliff is Kyle’s daddy. There’s no resemblance at all between them. Cliff’s sandy-haired and blue-eyed. Kyle was dark and swarthy.

  “And remember, Claire’s always been easy. Kyle’s daddy could be any truck driver who ever passed through the county. She’s slept with any male who handed her five dollars.”

  “I know,” said Maury. “It’s awful to think about.”

  “I’m just surprised Kyle was born healthy,” Hadley said. “That’s the miracle, I think. Claire had to be eaten up with every venereal disease in the book.”

  “But Kyle grew up as wild as a buck,” Maury said. “I held my breath that Skip wouldn’t get hooked up with Kyle’s crowd. They were older than Skip, but you know how the wild side appeals to kids.”

  “We’ve been very lucky,” Bill said.

  “Amen,” said Maury.

  “Anyway,” Hadley said, “Virgie came by. She wanted me to help her find peace, she said. I told her I couldn’t interfere with an active criminal investigation.”

  “Huh,” Bill said. “You could take all the evidence we got, Hadley, and put it on the end of a pin. I know you won’t say anything, but I gotta tell you, whoever did this was smart.”

  “Middle of the night,” Hadley said. “No witnesses. In and out and away without so much as a bean-kiss-your-foot. That’s gotta be tough.”

  “You said it,” said Bill.

  “Where you gonna start?It’s not as if Kyle didn’t have a list of enemies a mile long. Drug dealers, pot growers, druggie friends. It’s not like he ran with the goodie-two-shoes crowd. And what about the people he’s stolen from, owed money to? I don’t know. The list seems endless to me.”

  “That pretty much sums up what we’re up against,” said Bill.

  “Lou Edna says Virgie was always complaining,” Maury said, “about Claire and all the pills she was on, when Virgie stopped in every week for her wash and set down at the shop. Lou said that Virgie told her Claire used to tell her mama she never understood why Virgie was so upset. Lou said Virgie said Claire just laughed one day and said ‘I’ve got a flash for you, Mama. It’s a dirty little secret. The mailman delivers my drugs. What was the big deal?’”

  “I think it’s just too sad for words,” Hadley said. “I really do.”

  “The mailman! I’m not surprised. But here’s another thing,” Bill said. “Kids get hooked on the meds that they steal from their parents. Then, when they can’t get them anymore, they look for cheaper highs. For a lot of them, that means heroin. It’s really sad to see so many young lives ruined or ended too soon.”

  “It rained late the night Kyle was killed, didn’t it?” Hadley asked. “I remember the rain was pouring so hard, it woke me up. That means tire treads were washed away. Lost in the mud. Gosh, Bill, you can’t have anything to go on.”

  “The roast was delicious, Hadley,” Bill said, “but I gotta run. I promised Elwin I’d stop by the office and see if he needed a hand. We’ve been busier than a band of fleas at a dog show.”

  “Don’t worry, Bill,” Hadley said. “I’ll drop Maury home.”

  “Yeah. Run along, honey,” Maury said. “I’ll help Hadley clean up the supper dishes.”

  Bill gave Maury a quick peck on the cheek and headed out the door.

  Bill sat in his car. He remembered the encounter he’d had with Candy and her two kids just last week. It was a hot, sunny day. Bill had just left the office to head over to the Spoon for a quick bite. Candy’s kids had gotten away from her. The groceries she’d had in her bags were spilled all over the street. Candy was yelling for her kids to stop running, but the two little imps were deaf to her calls.

  * * *

  “Hey,” Bill said.

  Bill grabbed Candy’s two little children before they could race out into the street.

  “Thanks, Sheriff,” Candy said.

  The poor mother looked exasperated. Her hair was a mess. Errant strands fell across her face. She had tried to pull it back into a pony tail, but the rubber band, or whatever she was using to hold it in place, was not working.

  “You two kids have gotta be careful,” Bill said. “You just can’t go charging out into Main Street. A car could hit you. And where are your shoes?”

  Bill looked at the tiny feet. Eight toes on each pair. No, that couldn’t be right.

  “Gotta get my specs changed,” he mumbled.

  The kids were eager for Bill to let go, but Bill was determined to have his say.

  “Candy,” Bill said, “these little ones need shoes. They could cut their feet on a piece of glass or burn the soles of them on this hot pavement. Keep up with them. I know it’s hard, but I don’t want to see them get hurt.”

  “I’ll try,” Candy said. “But it’s hard. They both move like greased lightning.”

  “Well, you watch them. Mind how they cross the street,” Bill said.

  “I will,” said Candy. “Thanks, Sheriff.”

  “You have a good day, Candy,” Bill said.

  Kids today, Bill thought, watching Candy and her two savages walk down the street. Like as not, he thought, those two little ones would have a hard row to hoe. Wasn’t Candy’s fault. Bill blamed that no account excuse for a father, Kyle Winthrop.

  * * *

  “I’m worried,” Maury said. “Bill’s working himself to death but doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere on this case.”

  “Virgie’s at her wit’s end, too,” Hadley said. “I tell you, Sis, I felt so sorry for her I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Oh, let’s change the subject,” Maury said. “If we stay on this line of talk, I’m gonna be cryin’ oceans. How’s the dumpster duty goin’ at Eustian’s?”

  “Girl,” Hadley said, “that place is all gaumed up. I never seen such a mess. Beanie and I have cleared a good path to the house. How one human could cram so much useless junk into a house is beyond me. First of all, why do it? Second, after you’ve been so industrious as to keep the stuff out of the dump and in its new home in your home, you’ve got to live with it.

  “Roach Motel. Rat rendezvous. Dust magnet. A path. I’m not kidding. A tiny path in all that clutter. And he lived like that for decades. He had to, Maury. You can’t collect that much trash in one year. Or even two! It takes time. It’s gonna take Beanie and me some time to clear it out, but Beanie’s a hard worker.”

  “Found any treasure, yet?” Maury asked.

  “The only treasure I am looking for
is the wooden floor boards. When I see floor, I know we’re on the downhill of cleaning out whatever room we’re in.”

  “Still,” Maury said, “wouldn’t it be fantastic to find, oh, I don’t know, a hidden stash of hundred dollar bills, a rare gemstone.”

  “A gold doubloon!” said Hadley. “Beanie and I have about as much chance of finding something valuable in the rubbish as you do of winning the lottery.”

  “Oh, I know,” said Maury, “but it is fun to dream.”

  “Eustian has quite a view of the old amusement park,” Hadley said. “I never realized just how much of the tumbled-down property can be seen from his porch.”

  “I’ll bet when that park was opened,” Maury said, “it was like watching a circus side show. Can you imagine? Better than television.”

  “Yeah,” Hadley said, “it would have been quite a show. But I don’t think Eustian was into being sociable.”

  “Not that old goat,” said Maury. “He was into being crabby and cantankerous.”

  “Still,” Hadley said, “you’re right. Beanie and I might stumble upon some secret Eustian’s had hidden in that house full of junk forever. You never know.”

  “I’ll wash,” Maury said. “You dry. You know where everything goes.”

  “Deal,” said Hadley. “And thanks for the elbow grease.”

  “It’s the least I can do,” said Maury. “Your invitation got Bill to sit down for 30 minutes. He never refuses your cooking, Hadley.”

  “Then,” Hadley said, “until this case is solved, I’ll just have to start inviting you two over more often. Bill can get a good meal with a little rest thrown in at no extra charge.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Virgie wanted to cry.

  Cleve was acting strange ever since Claire and Kyle had that big blow out. She remembered that awful day.

  Claire swore Kyle was stealing her medicine again. Kyle told his mother off. It was a horrible, horrible scene. Cleve had stuck his nose in, tried to come between the two, and Kyle had socked him one in the kisser.

 

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