Crumb Cake, Corpses and the Run of the Mill

by Rachael Stapleton

  A few days later, Juniper called Michèle to check in, see how she was doing, and ask if she wanted to get a cup of coffee sometime.

  “Let’s meet this afternoon,” Michèle said.

  Michèle had already ordered her a café latte and was waiting at a table when Juniper walked into the coffeehouse.

  “Thanks,” Juniper said, joining her. “How are you doing?”

  “A little better than when I last saw you,” she said.

  They sipped their drinks for a full minute before Juniper said, “Did you ever consider that Mr. Battams might’ve done it?”

  She pressed her lips together in frustration. “Yes. Chase Battams was completely capable of killing Belinda. When she disappeared, I wondered if he knew she’d been hiding from him at the mill. I mean, if Frank could follow her out there, Mr. Battams could’ve, too.”

  “Do you think we’ll ever know the truth?”

  “I hope so. I’d like someone to pay for killing my friend.”

  They sipped their coffees in silence for a moment, and then Juniper ventured a question. “How did Belinda and Oliver get together in the first place?”

  There were tears in Michèle’s eyes, but she began to smile as she told the complete story, filling in some of the blanks for Juniper

  “Belinda had been desperate to get away from her parents, and Oliver had been a sympathetic listener. Belinda confided that she wanted to try her voice out in the world, and Oliver agreed that they’d take their band on the road once they were finished school. The pregnancy took them off guard. But they were both thrilled and planned to get married after graduation. I was going to be the godmother,” Michèle said with a sad smile.

  “Did the three of you start going to the old sawmill together?” Juniper asked.

  “Not exactly. Sometimes I would drive her out there so she could hide from her father. Usually after he’d beaten her silly.”

  Juniper shivered. “What a horrible man.”

  “He really was,” Michèle said. “The day after she disappeared, Oliver and I both thought her father had done something to her. Oliver went out to the mill to look for her but didn’t find her. I thought maybe her father had hurt her so badly that she’d finally run away. I thought I would hear from her, eventually.” She shook her head in helpless frustration.

  “When Oliver heard that Belinda’s remains had been discovered, he couldn’t understand how he’d missed finding her but then who would have thought to look inside the...” Michèle gripped her coffee cup. “I’m sorry. This is still hard for me.”

  “It’s too terrible to contemplate,” Juniper said. “And I hate to say it, but it’s starting to sound like her father might have been the one who killed her.”

  “She must’ve been so frightened,” Michèle murmured, her cheeks damp with tears.

  They continued drinking their lattes in silence.

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  J uniper had a crew of six working on the old mill the next day. She wanted to do a big push to finish up the top floor and start work on the basement beams.

  By four o’clock most of the crew had left, and it was just Queenie and her finishing up. Juniper felt a sense of accomplishment when all three layers of linoleum were ripped up and thrown outside.

  The old pipes running every which way along the walls of the bathroom were in bad shape, too, with several of them tied and nailed to the strips of lath to keep them in place.

  “We have our work cut out for us in here,” Queenie said.

  Juniper gazed around at the exposed walls and floor. “I’ll say.”

  “Are you ready to leave?” she asked, checking her wristwatch. “I’ve got dinner plans.”

  Juniper smiled. “You go ahead. I’m going to take a quick look around the house and make a priority list of things to do tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” She picked up the small red toolbox she always brought with her. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Queenie.”

  After she left, Juniper wandered from room to room, making a list of projects that needed work. She was kneeling down to check the flue in the upstairs bedroom fireplace when she heard a creaking sound coming from the front of the house. It was after eight o’clock, and Juniper wondered who was coming by this late. Jack, maybe?

  “Hello,” Juniper shouted. “Jack?”

  No one responded.

  She heard another creak and that one sounded like it was over her head. Was someone here? She hadn’t seen Albert lately, maybe he felt like a visit. Then again, Juniper had to wonder if Grant had returned to the house.

  She stood up and listened for another creak. She couldn’t say if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but nobody would ever be able to walk around this house without the owner knowing there was someone else inside. Every floorboard and door creaked or groaned when it was moved or walked upon. Juniper would be able to fix some of them, but right now she just wanted to know who else was in here with her.

  “Hello? Albert? Is that you?”

  Again, there was no answer. And that was when she felt a shiver of doubt. Belinda had died in this house.

  And with that disturbing thought hovering in her head, Juniper pulled out her phone and texted Jack.

  “At the mill. Someone is prowling around. Help!”

  Juniper rolled her eyes at the cryptic message, knowing Jack would blow a gasket since this was the second time she did this. But she hit send anyway.

  Footsteps sounded on the floor below and Juniper knew for sure she had a visitor. It couldn’t be a friend. He or she would’ve shouted out a greeting right away. The footsteps grew softer, and Juniper pictured the intruder walking toward the new kitchen. Maybe he or she would leave the house through the sliding door. Juniper felt ridiculous.

  A door creaked open, but she could tell it wasn’t the door leading outside. No, it was the sound of the basement door opening. But who would be crazy enough to go down to a cold, dark basement all alone?

  Sure enough, Juniper could hear the light pounding of footsteps on the wooden stairs. Juniper wondered, is this person returning to the scene of the crime?

  But the basement hadn’t been the scene of the crime. Juniper assumed that the real crime had occurred on the main floor, where Belinda had been shoved into the flour roller.

  So, who in the world was in the basement?

  By now Juniper was a trembling mass of nerves. She had to do something. If the prowler stayed in the basement for a few minutes, she could run to the front door and reach her truck before he or she made it back upstairs.

  Juniper pushed herself to her feet and tiptoed down the stairs toward the front hall. But the wooden floor creaked. She had no choice but to keep going, especially when she suddenly heard the sound of feet pounding up the basement stairs.

  “Oh, God!” Juniper careened around the corner into the wide front hall, forgetting about the ladder folded up against the wall. A dozen sample cans of paint were stacked nearby, along with folded tarps. Her hip bumped into the ladder and threw her off balance. All she could do as she fell was try to protect her head from banging into anything else.

  “Oh, Junie, dear, not the most graceful, are you?”

  Every nerve ending in her body relaxed as she realized it was only Oliver’s dad, retired police Captain Bruce Stone.

  “Bruce! You scared me. What are you doing here?” Juniper asked, pushing the ladder aside and dragging herself up off the floor.

  Bruce looked at her funny but then recovered. “I was looking for Oliver and Michèle. They aren’t here?”

  “No. Why would they be here?”

  “I don’t know. I thought I overheard someone say they were stopping by to say goodbye. You know, a final farewell to their friend.”

  “Oh, yeah, that makes sense. I haven’t seen them but maybe try the river? I’ve been cooped up in here,” Juniper said.

  “Why aren’t you in town setting up for tomorrow’s festival? Aren’t you on the commit
tee?”

  Juniper nodded, wondering how Bruce knew that. It wasn’t like he was part of the event. Unless he made it his business to know. Then again, it was pretty much common knowledge since they met at the café. And that’s when she noticed the doctor in the corner. He was coming in and out of focus. Then he disappeared altogether. Something had him upset. Juniper knew from past experience that ghosts had a hard time communicating when they were emotional. So, what had him so emotional? He appeared out of the corner of her eye, the way Victoria did. It looked like he was holding out an old photo and pointing to Bruce. His mouth was moving but there was no sound. Every time she looked directly at him, he disappeared. This was annoying and frightening.

  “Are you okay, Juniper?” Bruce asked.

  Juniper looked back at Bruce and waved. “Yep, I’m fine. Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind with the renovation and the festival. The doctor appeared again, solid this time, and she hurried to him. The photo was one of Almer Stone. Juniper was confused. There was a strong resemblance between Almer and Bruce. Well, Almer was his great uncle. What was the big deal there? Why was the doctor so upset? She shook her head to let the doctor know that she wasn’t making the connection. He pointed to the photo and Bruce and then she heard him plain as day, he said ‘killer’.

  Juniper turned back around and noticed the hammer Bruce was now holding. Her stomach lurched. Something wasn’t right. It didn’t make any sense.

  With any luck, Jack would be here in the next ten minutes, but that wouldn’t be soon enough. Juniper had to think fast. “You want to help me finish up here so we can go help with set up? Oliver and Michele must be there.” She righted some of the things she’d knocked over. “Oh, I think I hear a car now. Maybe that’s them.” She stood and turned to leave.

  But Bruce was standing in her way.

  “You know, don’t you?” Bruce said, before Juniper could think of something to say.

  “Know what?”

  “You know who killed the girl,” he said, swinging the hammer against his other palm as he spoke. There was no doubt he didn’t intend to let her go now.

  “Why are you here?” Juniper asked. “You’re looking for something, aren’t you? A piece of evidence we missed, I’m betting.”

  He bit his lip and nodded, “You’re just too smart for your own good, Junie dear. I really am sorry about this.”

  “So, why did you do it? Are you at least going to tell me that?”

  “It really wasn’t my fault. She left me no choice.”

  “It’s not too late, you know. You could go to Cody and confess. And I’m sure whatever happened with Belinda … it was an accident.”

  “It was an accident. I was furious, but it was . . . it was just a little shove. Barely a push, but she went down and hit her head. I panicked. But they won’t believe me. Not now.”

  Juniper weighed her options. Bruce was solid, and probably had at least fifty pounds on her.

  “Go on, now, through the door there. You’re going to help me find my watch.”

  A watch, so that was what he’d lost. “Why are you so worried about a watch after all these years?”

  He gestured toward the door of the basement. “It’s engraved.”

  Feigning obedience, Juniper turned toward the door, remembering the old rusted pick axe she’d seen down there.

  “W-were you in love with her?” Juniper asked as she crossed the room and headed for the basement steps. She took her time.

  He snorted. “In love with my son’s girlfriend? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Okay, maybe you weren’t in love, but you wanted her, right? She was beautiful.” Juniper was grasping at straws, but he had to have felt something for Belinda. Otherwise why would he have followed her all the way to the mill all those many years ago? “Did you try to get close to her during your son’s band sessions? Did she turn you down? Were you jealous of Oliver?” She turned to face him. The pick axe was close at hand. She just needed to get to it. His nostrils were flaring and Juniper could tell that her words were getting to him. “Bruce? She wouldn’t have anything to do with you, right? I’ll bet that burned you up.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake. You don’t get it. She was family! She was related to Oliver for God’s sake. She couldn’t have that baby. It was an abomination.”

  “What are you talking about?” Juniper was genuinely confused.

  “Belinda Battams was Trephinia McNitt’s granddaughter.”

  “I know that.”

  “Well, what you don’t know is that Oliver and Belinda were cousins. Oliver is Trephinia McNitt’s great grandson.”

  “But how is that possible? He isn’t your son then?”

  “No, he’s my son, alright.”

  “That would mean you’re Trephinia’s grandson.” A lightbulb suddenly clicked on in Juniper’s brain as she remembered Edie’s letter. “Almer wasn’t your great uncle. He was your grandfather. Grant Stone was Trephinia’s firstborn.” Juniper moved sideways until the pick axe was behind her. Bruce was to her right and the door leading outside was to her left.

  “Now you’re gettin’ it. My father was the illegitimate son of Almer Stone. After Marjorie and Trephinia murdered him in cold blood, they forced Almer’s brother, who was the police captain at the time, to stage the hanging.”

  “Why would Almer’s own brother help them do that?” Juniper knew the answer but she was stalling for time.

  “Because they threatened to expose him—how he covered up Victoria and Albert’s murders. It would have ruined the family name and all for what? Almer was a disappointment to him and he was already dead. So, he agreed to cover up yet another murder as long as he and his wife could raise the baby, my father Grant as a Stone.”

  “So, you killed Belinda because she was pregnant with Oliver’s baby. Why didn’t you just tell them that they were cousins?”

  “Oh, believe me, I told her. She refused to get an abortion. That’s when I lost my temper and shoved her.”

  Juniper was suddenly outraged. “What a pathetic excuse for the law you were. You would have done anything to save your name, is that it?”

  “You have no idea,” he shouted, raising the hammer.

  Juniper stumbled back and groped for the pick axe, managing to snag it, she swung with all her might. The end fell off as it hit him. It was enough to knock him off his game. He went down, crying out in pain, clutching his shoulder. She hung on to the handle and raced up the stairs. Thankfully, the doors were still open from earlier.

  He grabbed her ankle and pulled her down. Her jaw smacked against the wooden step so hard she saw stars but she managed to kick him in the shoulder right where the pick axe had bruised and cut him. He yelped again and she scrambled up the rest of the stairs and took off outside for the river.

  If she’d been thinking, she would have run in the other direction but there was no time for rational thought.

  Her lungs burned as she raced across the yard. She really needed to sign up for Penny’s self-defense class. No more excuses, living in Bohemian Lake was a hazard. She chanced a look behind her and tripped. Stupid. Bruce was gaining on her now. His shirt was stained with blood. My god, why hadn’t he just passed out. Then she heard the rumble of Jack’s engine pulling up the drive. She waited until the door slammed and screamed, praying he’d heard her. But she had nowhere to go. The river was in front of her.

  And that was when she felt the shove from behind. Bruce pushed her face down into the river water. It was only a few inches, but it was enough. She struggled and tried to kick backward with her boots, but he held her easily with his strength. The air she had managed to take in before he shoved her face in the water was running out, blackness forming at the edges of her sight.

  Suddenly the pressure on her neck relented as he backed off. With her last remaining strength, she surged up and stumbled forward, out of his reach.

  Bruce was cringing. He looked horrified and shied away, stumbling into a tree behind him.

 
; Gulping in air, it took her a moment to understand what was going on. The Doctor was holding up the pocket watch, swinging it wildly in a circular motion. She couldn’t tell whether Bruce could see the ghostly puppeteer, or simply saw his watch floating in the air.

  She took advantage of his distraction and slugged him in the head once again with a huge rock from the riverbed. He went down with a loud thud and she ran again, this time making for the front porch, almost knocking down Jack, who was dashing toward her. He crushed her to his chest and Juniper wanted to crawl up inside him and stay safe. But she couldn’t—not yet.

  “Are you all right?” he demanded.

  “Bruce Stone,” Juniper mumbled. “The river. He killed Belinda.”

  Chapter Forty

  The entire town, it seemed, turned out the following day for the Dog Days of Summer Festival. The town square was decked out with colorful balloons, lined with food trucks and packed with people laughing and chatting. A full refreshment bar was set up along the one side and guests were grabbing cold beverages as fast as the bartenders could get them. And at the center of it all was the stage where Dani Vianu’s band was playing.

  A song was lovingly being dedicated to the memory of Belinda Battams just as she arrived. Jason actually walked out on stage and said a few words about his sister and how she loved singing. Fern joined him onstage and also said a few words. She had to gulp away tears, as her brother put his arm around her shoulders to comfort her. Then Dani Vianu and Oliver Stone came up on stage and they did one of The Stage’s old songs that Oliver and Belinda had sung together with Dani taking Belinda’s part.

  By the time they left the stage, and the concert resumed, Juniper was sipping a citrus-y wheat beer and Pike was crying like a baby. And judging by all the sniffles Juniper heard, she wasn’t the only one. Still, Pike had been crying an awful lot lately and Junie’s best friend radar was going off like crazy. Something was up with Pike. She couldn’t take it anymore. She turned to Pike and grabbed her hands. “I’m worried about you, Pike.”

  Pike frowned. “Why?”