“We are. Will you and Adrian attend?”
“Adelle’s daughter, Tricia, is one of Adrian’s closest friends. I think it will do us some good to join the festivities.”
“I will see you there, I’m sure. As for who killed Evelyn, it might not be the two men who were arrested. The sheriff mentioned he’s on the trail of another suspect. I apologize for not staying in touch, I hadn’t learned anything of use to tell you.”
“I understand. You are busy with your farm and judged the rabbit show, too, which must have kept you on the run.”
“It sure did. I’ll see you Saturday afternoon. Oh, before I let you go, have you seen Bailey at all?”
“No, why would I?”
“I don’t know, I thought you might have run into her in town, is all.”
“No, I haven’t seen or heard from her.”
“Okay, thanks.”
The call ended, I tapped my lips with my fingertip while considering what connection existed, if any, between Bailey, Evelyn, and Carina. As I paced the floor, Bun hopped into the room and said, “Carina will be at the party?”
“She and Adrian. She sounded strange when I mentioned Bailey. I can’t figure out what the commonality is between those three women.”
“In my most humble opinion, it would make sense to think Evelyn held a threat over Carina’s head. Bailey could be in the mix by being Evelyn’s daughter, but begs the question of what her relationship to Carina could be. You should have asked her.”
“Not without tangible evidence. We can’t burn our bridge of communication with either woman, especially now that we know about Bailey. I have to reach out to Bailey tomorrow to coordinate our arrangements as we usually do before a party. I wouldn’t want to raise her suspicions at this point.”
“Sounds like a plan. The snack was tasty, thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
Bun sprawled on the floor next to my desk, and I hauled out paperwork that I had ignored while poking my nose into other people’s business. Time had flown, or so it appeared, and more tax bills waited to be paid. My funds weren’t seriously low, but low enough for concern.
As much as I loathed taking funds from my private bank account, it looked like I had no choice. I leaned back, heaved a sigh, mentally calculated how much cash to withdraw, and muttered, “Jim Brody’s money sure would have come in handy.” I wrote the checks, made a call to my bank, and deposited money from one account to another through the automated teller. Solvent again, I closed the computer ledger.
Out of boredom and curious over his death two years ago, I Googled Paul Richland’s name and let the program search him out. Seconds later, his obituary and other articles about his standing in the community appeared. I read all that was available. Paul had supported several foundations, and he had donated to a surrogate clinic. With a start, I gawked at the information, my brain on high speed, as it jumped from one possibility to another. I considered whether or not Adrian might have been carried to term by a surrogate. I searched for pictures or newspaper articles that might have covered Paul’s funeral. One appeared in the Windermere Gazette. The only photo of Carina was blocked by a heavyset woman as Paul’s closed coffin was prayed over. I scanned articles about Paul and Carina. Most of them featured the couple standing together and smiling at the camera. None showed Carina while she was pregnant. Hmm.
I had to know what caused his death. Paul’s car had crashed into a tree; his seat belt hadn’t been buckled, and he had died upon impact. Was it accidental, suicide, or murder? With no other information on Paul or his family, I ended the search and shut off the computer.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The following morning passed with hard work. My mind never rested for a minute as I went about daily chores. When Jessica entered the barn, she asked why I was working with a vengeance.
I looked around and found she was right. I’d accomplished the chores in half the usual time it took. “I didn’t realize I was.”
“I’m between patients and thought we could take a break.”
The day, warm and sunny, beckoned us to sit on the porch. Not one to let enjoyable weather pass, I promised myself to take Bun to the lake after lunch. Molly would arrive before then, as would Jason, and I wanted to chat with them before I got involved in other things.
“Have you heard the sheriff has arrested Colin?”
“It happened here, last night. I’m so glad he kept the farm out of the story. Reporters would be camped at the edge of the property, news-hungry beggars that they are. The last thing I need is negativity from the media and the public. There’s enough of that going around as it is.”
“What happened?”
Keeping the story short, I gave her the basics. She rolled her eyes a few times, exclaimed a couple more, and then added a string of questions at the end. I answered as best I could, knowing Bun was listening at my feet. Unwilling to share what Jack said to me and how guilty I’d felt, I left out that whole discussion.
“I guess you never can guess what people will do, especially when they’re in a tight spot.”
“You’ve got that right. I wasn’t afraid of Colin, but I would have shaken in my shoes if Seamus had been present. He gives me the willies.” I shuddered and added, “Carina called me last night. She asked about the arrest. I kind of thought she was looking for information, but can’t figure what exactly she wanted to know. We talked of the party this Saturday. She and Adrian will be in attendance, along with Bailey. I’ll be on alert for sure. So much has come to light, it’s got to connect somewhere, I simply can’t see the whole picture yet.”
“You’re thorough, smart, and can make it fit together like puzzle pieces, so don’t overthink it. Let it happen on its own.”
“You’re right. Here comes Mrs. Mallory. You’ll have your hands full with her cat. She’s a crazy critter.”
“Wasn’t she rescued from the same home as Willy?”
“Yeah, their circumstances were terrible.” I gathered our cups from the small table between us and wished her luck as I entered the house. From behind the screen door, I watched Jessica cross the lawn and greet Mrs. Mallory with a smile. Jess had a way with people and animals.
I set about cleaning the house, organizing Bun’s room, and then put together ingredients for dinner. A car drew to a stop in front of the barn. I glanced out the window and saw Jason and Molly enter the shop. I tossed dinner into a covered pot and slid it into the oven. I washed my hands before heading into the barn, with Bun at my ankles.
The two kids greeted me happily. I handed their paychecks to them and gave Jason a list of chores for the day. He went off to get started while I stayed behind to speak with Molly.
“How are your college classes going?”
“They could be better. Honestly speaking, I’d rather be here with the students, teaching them fiber arts.”
I could feel my eyes widen in wonder. “I would like that, but at the moment, I can’t afford to pay you for full-time work. Sorry.”
“What if we had a full schedule?”
We were on opposite sides of the counter, facing each other, and her face was alight with excitement. Oh, my.
“You aren’t leaving college, are you?”
“It would be possible to transfer my credits to a local college where I can enter a fiber arts program. I’d take a certificate course first to see if it’s what I’d like to do for the rest of my life, and if it is then I would become a full-time student.”
“Have you discussed this with your family?”
She nodded and grinned impishly. “My mother is very supportive, but then she’s a crafter at heart. My father, well, he wants me to finish this semester before I make a change.”
Wow, I’d never been that lucky. Dad had always insisted I did this or that, while Mom went along for the ride, never protesting in front of him. When she and I were alone, she’d tell me to follow my heart, no matter what Dad said.
“If you’re sure this is what you want. I
t will take hours of hard work to pull this off, and I can’t make a change here without knowing it will pay for itself. I’d like to have you teach here. You do such a fine job, the students adore you.”
She raced around the counter and hugged me hard. Having won the day, Molly had complicated mine. Expanding the classes with a fuller schedule might increase income, which would be helpful. Some time ago, I had tossed the idea around without purposeful consideration, until now.
“We could host an open studio to generate publicity for class enrollment and allow the present students to show their work, what do you think?”
With a broad grin, I said, “I’d say you have it all worked out in your mind. Does Jessica know?”
She nodded. “I mentioned it to her in passing and she thought it a worthwhile idea. Will you give it some thought? I know how much responsibility the farm and rabbits are, and I wouldn’t want to make your load any heavier.”
“You, Jessica, and I can get together next week to talk it over, how’s that?” Watching her excitement grow, I raised a hand. “No promises, it’s quite an undertaking and like Jessica’s clinic, it won’t happen overnight. Financing must be sound, before we start. Okay?”
She nodded like a bobble doll on a bumpy ride. It was clear that Molly was thrilled to her core. Now, to make this work.
One after another, Molly’s students arrived. I left her to set them up for their class and looked down at Bun.
“Come on, let’s go walking,” I said.
“Does he understand you, Jules?”
“I think so. He’s intuitive, at least.” I waved good-bye as we left the shop and walked through the barn on our way to the house.
In the breezeway, Bun said, “I didn’t know you thought I was intuitive. Thanks.”
“Well, aren’t you?”
“It’s mainly due to my superpowers.”
“I see. Good thing you have them then.” I slipped a lightweight sling onto my body and leaned over for Bun to climb inside. “One of these days, you’ll have to walk beside me rather than ride all the time.”
“I can’t, don’t make me. My feet will get filthy, and I don’t like it when cars go by. What if I got run over, huh, what would you do then?”
We went down the front steps. “Okay, okay. No need to get jumpy.”
“Whew, I thought you meant it. I should have known better. You always take good care of us rabbits. Especially me.”
He had a point. I started to jog, thought the better of it, and slowed to a fast walk instead. Bun would only complain about the jostling as I ran.
We had reached Lake Plantain when Bun asked me to let him out. “Why?”
“I want a drink of water. The lake is calm, like glass today. I won’t get my feet wet, I can balance on that stone over there to drink.”
I set him on the ground knowing he’d checked to see if the beach was dry. I sat on the sand, enjoying the light breeze coming in off the water while Bun drank from the lake.
“This is a very nice place. Isn’t there a house of sorts down the road? A place where summer activities are held for old folks?”
“There is. Why don’t we take a look?”
He climbed back into the sling. I adjusted the straps and set off down past the gate, listening to Bun’s point of view on the area.
He stretched his neck out as far as he could and stared into the trees on our right. “There might be bears in the woods, you know.”
“Maybe, you never know. Let’s not worry about that, shall we?”
“If you say so. I’ll keep an eye out, just in case.” His ears and whiskers quivered slightly before his attention wandered elsewhere.
About a half mile down the road, we arrived at a spacious clearing where a large log building squatted. It spread out into a square, with long windows spaced evenly apart, except for the solid log wall at the rear, which had a door with a window in it. A wide porch spread across the front and along one side of the structure.
On the porch, Bun and I peered through the windows. Other than a counter in front of the galley-style kitchen and a couple of restrooms, the interior had an open floor plan. Folding tables and chairs lay stacked against one wall. Weathered rocking chairs lined the wall opposite the one of tables and chairs. All was neat and clean, awaiting another event for the elderly to enjoy.
As we turned away, I noticed a small plaque on the wall. Jim Brody’s company name was printed on the front as sole sponsor for this place. The man’s good deeds popped up everywhere I looked. Hmm.
I checked the time, our outing was near an end. Bun and I turned toward home at a trot.
“We’ve been to one of those places where old people live, maybe we could come here and entertain more old folks sometime.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing. I’ll call Mora Lindsey to see what she says about that. Good thinking.”
As we approached the farm I noticed Bailey’s light blue van parked next to my car. Why had she come by? Though I would have called her to confirm our arrangements for the Philbys’s party, multiple other reasons popped into my mind for this visit. One of them was about her birth certificate. Ready to ask a load of questions, I went toward the studio to greet her.
“Is that Bailey’s van?”
“Mmm.”
“I wonder why she’s here.”
Me too. I greeted the students, including Bailey.
She stepped next to me and whispered, “We need to talk.”
I responded softly, “Come into the house.”
We set off for the kitchen. Settled at the table, Bailey looked around. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
“I like it.” I stirred the contents of the pot in the oven, replaced the lid and asked if she wanted a cup of tea.
“That would be great, thank you.”
“I intended to call you today to arrange our day at the party. Is that why you stopped by?”
“Partly. We can discuss the party later, I was wondering if you had heard from Carina?”
“We spoke last night, why?”
“She left an odd voice message on my phone and mentioned you.”
I set the teapot on a tray, added teacups, milk, and sugar, and carried it to the table. “Oh?”
“What’s going on with her?”
I shifted in my chair and reached for the teapot. “Carina was upset when we found Evelyn on the path between her and her next-door neighbor’s land. She and Adrian are still recovering from her husband’s death. What did she say?”
“That you and I better talk.”
Thoughtful, I leaned back. “Did she say what we should talk about?”
Silent for a minute, she suddenly blurted, “I can tell you know that Evelyn was related to me.”
“You’re right, I found your birth certificate among her papers, but it has been crazy here these last few days and I didn’t know if she was a surrogate for your real mother, or if she was the real thing. I was asked to pick up rabbit show applications for Vera Benedict, who runs the rabbit shows. I came across the document then.”
“Evelyn gave me up for adoption when I was born. I think she might have been a surrogate or something. In high school, I had an accident. When I needed a blood transfusion, the doctors found I have a rare blood type. My family admitted I was adopted, which made sense after all the years of trying to figure why I didn’t resemble either parent, or anyone else in our family. Anyway, my parents were wonderful, but I wondered, you know, like most adoptees do.”
“How did you find out Evelyn was your birth mother?”
“After my mother passed away, my father left for a business trip. I searched everywhere I could think of for information about my birth parents. I finally found a sealed envelope. It wasn’t my birth record or anything like that, it was the agreement of funds paid to Evelyn Montgomery. It mentioned a man as well, but all I was concerned with was knowing Evelyn was my birth mother.”
“I assume you approached her.”
Bailey
nodded. “It didn’t go well. She wanted nothing to do with me, not ever. I was fine with that, but had questions. She refused to tell me anything at all and was unpleasant, extremely unpleasant. It wasn’t until Adrian’s birthday party that I saw Evelyn again. She was an unhappy woman.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” I said drily. “What was the man’s name? I didn’t see it on the birth certificate I got from Evelyn’s house.”
Her teacup empty, I watched her pour more into it. “I don’t remember, I was more interested in finding out who my mother was. I could tell you knew about my link to Evelyn by the expression on your face. You should never play cards, Jules.”
“So I’ve been told. I’m glad you’ve been forthcoming about this. The sheriff was interested and will probably talk to you. Just answer his questions, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“I never left my section at the party. I fear curious children will mess around with my puppets or harm themselves by getting into the workings of the stage set if I did step away.”
“Good to know. Share that with Sheriff Carver, too. If there’s nothing more you want to say, let’s talk about the party.”
An hour later, we had set our plans from a sketch of Adelle’s backyard. We would arrive and set up well before the children came to enjoy yet another birthday party. “What bothers me is why Carina called you. It is strange,” I remarked.
“Her voice sounded strained. Like she was under pressure of some kind.”
“She tends to be high-strung, but it’s still . . .”
“Mm, she might be hiding something. Had you thought of that? I only ask because I know you’re always poking around for information to help the police do their job.”
“Right, much to Sheriff Carver’s dismay. He suspects everyone in the beginning of an investigation. When Carina started to fall apart after he questioned her, she asked if I’d try to find who killed Evelyn. I agreed, and here we are.”
“You’re amazing.” Bailey’s eyes held a humorous twinkle.
“Not according to Sheriff Carver, or his officers.”
We rose from the table, and I walked her to the front door. “I’m glad you came by, Bailey.”
Who's Dead, Doc? Page 16