She smiled and seemed to retreat into her memory. “I remember she always looked like a fashion model. Beautiful dress and hat anytime she left the house.” She chuckled and touched her neck. “And I remember the way she always fiddled and fidgeted with the emerald necklace your grandfather bought her for their anniversary. She loved it. Fancy jewelry never looked out of place on Tabby.”
Beau tripped over a rolled-up rug and let out a curse.
“Language, dear,” Miss Ruth called over her shoulder.
“Were you surprised to hear she’d run off?” I moved a box out of my way.
With a flick of her wrist she whipped the fan shut. “Honey bee, Tabby moving from Atlanta to Windy Bottom was like putting a show horse in a mule barn. So much class and no place to parade it. Your grandfather called me the night she left and read me her goodbye note. I was shocked she left her baby, but I knew she missed the big city something fierce. Poor little Steven. Only a year old.” She tsk-tsked. “Of course, now we know that’s not what happened.”
“Do you remember the day she left?” I cleared my throat. “I mean, died.”
Miss Ruth chuckled and reached out to smack my leg with the fan. “Cooper Goodman, are you asking me if I had an alibi?”
“Oh no, ma’am!” I stuttered. Heat rushed to my face. “I—I was just, uh—uh I wondered because I thought—”
“Relax, dearie. I’m just teasing you.” She grinned. “Being a teacher, I would’ve been up at the school all day attempting to pour knowledge into my students’ heads. A worthless cause on some days, I’ll tell you that.”
Duh. She hadn’t always been retired.
“Over here,” said Beau, climbing over a trunk.
Leaning in the corner, almost hidden by a rack of old winter coats and other garments, was a rolled-up map.
He stretched. “Got it.” He turned and held the map victoriously.
“Wonderful!” Miss Ruth clapped.
Beau wiggled his way out from behind the boxes and handed the giant roll to Miss Ruth.
“Hold that end, dear, there’s something I want to show you.” She took the other end and slowly stepped away, unrolling the map. She stopped. “There, see that?” She pointed near the bottom. To Cordelia—Welcome to Windy Bottom High. Have a great year. Ruth Feather. “She taught geography and history just like me.” She turned to me. “Coop, darlin’, take a picture of Beau with the map. That way he can take a copy to the hospital when he visits his daddy.” She smiled at Beau. “You can tell him all about it. People can hear you even when they’re in a coma. That will make him feel better—I just know it.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket and took a photo.
“Get the inscription too, dear. Beau can read it to his daddy. Maybe even just hearing the name of his poor dead wife will help him.” Miss Ruth sighed. “We never know what brings people back, do we?”
Beau looked like he wasn’t sure what to say. I moved between him and Miss Ruth and photographed the inscription.
“Excellent.” She walked back toward Beau, letting the map roll up.
It was taller than Beau, and he leaned on it like a shepherd’s staff. “Thanks, Miss Ruth.” He scuffed his shoe back and forth across the attic floor. “Dad won’t talk about her, and I don’t have anything of hers. I really—”
“What in blue blazes is going on up here?” Miss Meriwether’s head popped through the attic door opening, her face pinched in a scowl.
Beau froze. I don’t know what look Miss Meriwether shot at him, but the expression on his face made him look like a total chicken. Nothing instilled fear faster than being on the crabby end of Miss Meriwether.
“Y’all have stirred up more dust than a black blizzard!” She joined us at the top, coughing and waving her hand. “Ruth, get down before your asthma kicks in.”
“Oh, Meriwether,” Miss Ruth chided. “Be nice to the boys. They were helping me find Cordelia’s old school map,” she said dismissively. “Now step aside, so I can use the ladder.” She grabbed the rails with both hands and eased herself down the steps. “Bring the map with you, dears,” she sang.
Ruth’s voice trailed as she and Meriwether walked away, “…such a mother hen, Meriwether…we’re going to look…the different countries…mustard…Beau should keep it…”
Beau, map in hand, went down first.
I skipped the last couple steps and jumped down, then folded the ladder and let the springs swallow the door back up into the ceiling.
When I turned, there was Beau. “You waited?”
Beau shook his head. “I sure as heck wasn’t going to go down there by myself.”
“Guess I can’t blame you.” I muttered as I turned and headed down the stairs. “Come on, I still got to cut their grass.”
Miss Ruth’s revelation in the attic about Tabby’s inheritance was a bombshell that left my brain churning with questions, and even the challenge of steering Ol’ Feisty around the flower beds didn’t distract me. What did Gramps do with all the money after she left? Did people in town think he’d married her for it? Did the police know how much she’d had? Officers Harrison and Watkins had carried boxes from Gramps’s office. Maybe they were crammed full of financial stuff. With each piece of information I found, more questions came.
Chapter 26
I finished and collected my five dollars from Miss Ruth. Beau and I grabbed our backpacks from the porch and headed home.
He carried the map in his hand and kicked stones down the sidewalk. “I’m not about to play detective with you idiots, and it was nice of Miss Ruth to give me this map, but it sounded to me like she didn’t like Tabby much, the way she talked about her being kind of stupid and all. And that whole ‘we were best friends and I forgave your grandfather’ speech? Totally bogus.”
“What are you talking about?” I was hot and grimy from cutting the grass, and the fifty pounds of books in my school bag was making my shirt stick to my body. I wanted to wipe the smirk off Beau’s smug face…with my backpack. “Gran even wrote in her journal they were friends. You don’t know anything.”
He stopped walking. “How dumb are you?” He looked at me and shook his head. “I know snark when I hear it. Just listen to my dad.”
When we walked through the front door, voices were traveling from the kitchen. I recognized Deputy Gomez’s as it mixed in with Mama and Gramps’s.
“verify if this…emerald necklace?” Gomez was saying.
Emerald necklace? I turned to Beau and put my finger to my lips. He rolled his eyes and jogged upstairs. I scurried down the hall, ducked into the bathroom next to the kitchen, then peered around the doorway. The three of them were leaning over the kitchen table looking at something and blocking my view.
“Found in a pawnshop in Sangerville,” continued Gomez. “Some guy named Lear Stowinn—two n’s—hocked it there a couple days ago…pretty suspicious timing if you ask me.”
Lear Stowinn? Who the heck is Lear Stowinn?
“Two days ago? That was Wednesday,” Mama said with surprise.
Gramps’s brow furrowed. “Lear Stowinn, you say? Never heard of him.”
Deputy Gomez straightened up from the table. “That’s because he doesn’t exist. Name’s a fake.”
“So you don’t know who he really is?” Mama’s voice sagged with disappointment. “But surely the shopkeeper can describe him. Or security cameras? It could help Harley if someone’s on camera selling the necklace of his murdered wife.” She looked to Gramps. “Sorry if that sounds crass, Harley.”
Gramps shrugged. “It’s the truth, though.”
Gomez crossed his arms. “Unfortunately, the guy seemed to know where the cameras were. He kept his head down and his body turned away. All we know is it was an older man”—he turned to Gramps—“about your height and weight. Where were you Wednesday?”
“Here we go again
,” muttered Gramps. “I was here all afternoon and evening.”
“And I’ll vouch for him,” said Mama, shooting poison darts at Gomez with her eyes.
“What about in the morning?” The eye darts bounced off Deputy Gomez’s chest.
Gramps fiddled with his watch. A sure sign he was nervous. “I went for a drive. Had to clear my head.”
“You alone?”
The question hung in the air before Gramps answered with a nod.
“Where did you drive?”
“Just around.”
“Sangerville?”
“No,” Gramps said through a clenched jaw. “Why would I tell the police the necklace was missing and then turn around and pawn it? That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It doesn’t make sense for anyone to hock it all these years later, but someone did. Right now I’m asking you about it,” said Deputy Gomez.
“Give me a break,” said Gramps.
“Maybe the financial need wasn’t as great back then. Lawyers can be expensive, and you clearly need one now.” Deputy Gomez paused, then picked up a photo from the table and his hat. “We’ll be in touch. No more long drives in the country, Dr. Goodman, if you don’t mind. Not until we get this solved.” He looked to Mama and nodded. “Ma’am. I’ll see myself out.”
“I want the necklace back when you’re done,” Gramps hollered down the hall.
He sank into a kitchen chair. Mama put her hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Harley. You’ll see.”
Those were the exact words she’d told me when Gramps was taken away for questioning a couple days ago. I was beginning to wonder how many times they’d be spoken.
* * *
Thanks to the fact Mama had taken Beau up to the hospital to see Angus—even though his condition hadn’t changed—I had my room all to myself. I opened my closet doors and pulled down the question list. Who is Lear Stowinn and how did he get Gran’s necklace? Then I checked to see if I could answer any of them. Only a few.
1. Who wrote the goodbye note? Tabby?
2. Where is Tabby’s emerald necklace?—at the police station (pawned by Lear Stowinn)
3. How did she die?—arsenic (rat poison?)
4. Who killed her and why?
5. Is Gramps a suspect?—yes
6. Where is Earl? Did he steal the necklace?—Who knows and no
7. Who was stealing from the church’s memorial fund? The bookkeeper?
8. Who was the bookkeeper at Windy Bottom Baptist 40 years ago?
I stopped and checked my email to see if Pastor Joel had responded with the answer to #8. Nothing.
9. Did Gran’s death have anything to do with the stolen money?
10. What happened to Gran’s inheritance?
11. Who is Lear Stowinn?
12. How did he get the emerald necklace?
I made a suspect card for Lear Stowinn and added it to the suspect wall. Too bad there was no photo. Then I added a couple notes to the Feather sisters’ cards of things I’d learned while at their house:
—Miss Ruth often made ham-and-mustard sandwiches for Tabby.
—Miss Ruth said Tabby was an heiress to a shipping fortune.
—Miss Meriwether was mad we were in the attic. She shooed us out right quick. Is she hiding something?
Man! I puffed out my cheeks. I thought I had a lot of questions a couple days ago. Now I had too many questions, too many suspects, and no help. At least tomorrow was Saturday, and it wouldn’t matter if I was grounded. Liberty, Justice, and I worked at the bookstore on Saturdays. I could talk to them then without worrying about Beau getting in my face about it.
Chapter 27
Ten minutes before A Latté Books was set to open, Liberty sauntered through the swinging kitchen door, tossing her baseball back and forth in her hands. “What’s Bo Peep doing here?” she whispered to me.
I glanced over to History, where Beau shelved new books.
“I blame your mom,” I grumbled as I wiped down the latté machine.
“My mom?”
“Yeah, ’cause she’s not here, we’re a man short. Beau got roped into helping.” I tossed her a dishcloth. “Look busy. Mama’s in the storeroom but will be out here soon. Where’s Justice?”
“The bathroom.” She grimaced. “And he won’t be here soon. Dad’s cooking isn’t nearly as safe as Mama’s.”
While we waited for Justice, I told her about the police finding the emerald necklace, the mysterious Lear Stowinn, and how Deputy Gomez probably suspected Gramps of pawning the necklace for insurance money.
“I guess ol’ Sticky Fingers Earl didn’t take it, after all.” She made a face and leaned on the counter. “Bet he still filched Chester’s dog tag, though. And the police have no idea who this Lear Stowinn guy is?”
I shook my head, then told her what Miss Ruth had let slip in the attic about Gran’s inheritance.
“Wait. Your grandma was loaded?” Liberty raised her brows. “No offense, Coop, your place is nice, but it doesn’t exactly scream high cotton. Where’d all the money go?”
“I don’t know.” I walked around to the other side of the counter and checked the napkin supply. “I’ve been wondering that too. Maybe it’s not true and was just a rumor. But Miss Ruth thinks it’s true, which supports our theory of her wanting Gran out of the way. Maybe she thought if she got Gramps, she’d be rich.”
Liberty frowned. “Actually, I have been thinking about that, and I’m pretty sure Miss Ruth needs to be nixed as a suspect.”
I stopped. “What? Why?”
“Think about it. If Miss Ruth had killed Tabby so she could marry your gramps, why write a note to make it look like she ran off? Miss Ruth would want the body discovered so your gramps would know his wife was dead. That’s the only way he’d be free to marry again.”
I slapped my forehead with the palm of my hand. “Argh! You’re right. That’d be dumb.” But a good part of me was relieved. The thought of Miss Ruth as a suspect never sat right with me. “Plus, my gran might’ve been skinny, but she was tall, and the Feather sisters don’t drive. No way could Miss Ruth have carried her all the way to the playground to bury her.”
“But you have the same problem of figuring out how Miss Meriwether would’ve moved the body.”
“Nah. Miss Meriwether’s built like a Mack truck. She could’ve done it. Maybe she hid the body until it was dark, and then dragged her to the playground.”
Liberty arched a brow. “Maybe.” She grabbed a broom from the corner and came around to where I stood. “What I want to know is why the playground? It seems like a really creepy place to bury someone.”
“I asked Gramps about that too. He said he remembers the playground had just been installed a couple days before Tabby had ‘run off.’ Maybe whoever killed her took advantage of that fact. You know how hard the dirt here is. It’d definitely be easier to dig a grave if the ground had just been broken up for playground equipment.”
Justice sauntered in rubbing his stomach. “Hey Coop. FYI, Burma’s no longer a suspect. He was in Texas the same week your gran was murdered. His exact words were ‘I came back to the news about Tabby and a line of people wrapped around my shop just itching to chin-wag.’ I’m thinking chin-wag means to gossip or something.” Then he belched. “Excuse me.”
“You sure he’s telling the truth?”
Justice nodded. “He and his sister competed in a bowling tournament. They had their picture taken in front of the banner with the date on it. He wasn’t here.”
I made a mental note to throw Burma’s suspect card away. “That helps narrow down the list of suspects, though—we’re down to Earl Winston and Meriwether Feather.”
“And Lear Stowinn,” said Liberty.
“Who?” asked Justice.
She filled him in.
“Oh! H
ey, guess what?” Justice slugged me in the arm. “I also found out Earl’s got a typewriter.”
“Really?”
“He’s back? You asked him?” asked Liberty.
He shook his head. “I talked to Leroy after school. You can ask that guy anything when he’s plunging a toilet. Last year he answered half my math questions after someone clogged the one in the teachers’ lounge.”
“Get to the point, Jus,” Lib said.
“Leroy said Earl’s too stingy to throw anything out. He’s always hoping his junk will be valuable one day. Said Earl keeps everything stashed in the funeral home.”
A spark of hope ignited. “I gotta find it and test it.”
“You know Earl’s not just going to let you mess around with his typewriter.” Justice rubbed the back of his neck. “Especially if he did type the fake letter.”
“We got to do something.” I fixated on the floor, like the answer was there. “He has a typewriter, and his blood was found on Tabby’s ring—we still don’t know why.”
“What do you suggest?” Lib licked her thumb and rubbed away a smear of dirt on her ball.
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll tell you what you do.” Beau poked his head around a bookshelf.
“Cripes, Beau!” Liberty jumped. “Didn’t your daddy ever teach you it’s rude to listen in on other people’s conversations?”
He leaned against the shelf and crossed his feet. “Nope.”
“What all did you hear?” I asked.
“Enough.”
“Okay, then, what should we do?” asked Liberty.
“Easy.” He shrugged. “Earl’s not in town. You break into the funeral parlor, duh.”
And that’s the moment when Beau and I started getting along.
“I’m good with anagrams,” he added.
“Good for you,” Liberty said scowling. “Why do we care?”
“Because if you rearrange the letters in ‘Lear Stowinn’ you get ‘Earl Winston.’”
Liberty thought for a moment and then cussed…again.
Coop Knows the Scoop Page 14