Authors: Jessica Beck
"I
need an alibi from you for the hours between midnight and noon today,"
the sheriff said.
Moose
just shrugged. "Really? I myself need a hot shower, some
clean clothes, and a nice long nap, but I doubt I’ll be getting any of
them soon enough to suit me." My grandfather turned to me and said,
"I got the hay bales, the corn stalks, and a few pumpkins. I
brought them in the back way. What’s this all about, Victoria?"
"Somebody
killed Wally Bain between midnight and noon today," I said.
Moose
frowned, and then he looked hard at me. "You’re not kidding,
are you?"
"I
never tease about murder."
"How
did it happen?" Moose asked as he scratched his chin.
"He
was stabbed with a pitchfork in the chest," the sheriff said.
"I asked you a question, Moose, and I’m going to need that
alibi."
"If
I was a little flip before, I’m sorry. I didn’t know,"
my grandfather said softly.
"No
worries, but I really do need to know where you were."
"I’m
just sorry I can’t tell you," Moose said.
"So
am I," the sheriff answered a little stiffly. "Are you
telling me that you can’t come up with at least part of an alibi for
those hours?"
"Sure,
I can cover from midnight to six. I was with Martha," he
said. "The two of us had breakfast when we woke up, and after that,
I went junking. Later, around eleven, I got a call from Victoria that we
needed some decorations here at the diner, so I started looking around for
some."
"It
was more like ten forty-five when I called," I said.
"Close
enough," Moose replied.
"Were
you serious when you said that you suspected
all
of us?" I asked
the sheriff.
"Victoria, this is murder we’re talking about here. Everybody who had contact
with Wally Bain recently is a suspect until they can be eliminated," he
said. "But no, honestly, I don’t think your mother or
grandmother had anything to do with it."
"At
least that’s something," I said, and then I turned to my
grandfather. "Moose, who else do you know that might want to see
Wally Bain dead."
My
grandfather frowned, and then he thought about it for a full minute before he
finally spoke. "I can come up with three people right off the top
of my head, but there may be more that I don’t know anything
about."
That
definitely got the sheriff’s interest. "I could use some
names of the ones you do know," he said.
"I
bet you could," Moose said. "There’s one condition
before I give them to you, though."
"What’s
that?" Sheriff Croft asked, clearly skeptical about Moose’s
stipulation.
"Victoria
and I get to dig around this thing ourselves along the edges. We’ll
stay out of your way if we can, but even if you manage to eliminate us as
suspects, there are plenty of folks in Jasper Fork who won’t believe that
we’re innocent just on your word."
He
thought about it, and then Sheriff Croft finally nodded. "I sort of
assumed that the pair of you would dig into this when I talked to Victoria earlier. It has to be the same terms as before, though. You share what
you find with me, and I mean instantly, and you stay out of my way."
"If
at all possible," I said.
"If
at all possible," the sheriff agreed. "What do you
say?"
Moose
stuck out a hand, and the sheriff took it. Since I was involved in that
particular promise, I put my hand on theirs, and the three of us shook on it.
"Now,
what are those names?" the sheriff asked. "If you have any
motives to go along with them, I’d consider it a personal favor if
you’d share that information as well."
"Well,
his farmhand left the place last week," Moose said. "His name
is Ron Watkins. Do you know him?"
"Not
off the top of my head," the sheriff said, "but I’ll track
him down if he’s still around. Why did he leave Wally’s
farm?"
Moose
shrugged. "I don’t know the details, but there was some bad
blood between the two men at the end, I can tell you that much. If you
want more information than that, you’ll have to ask him yourself."
"I
plan on doing exactly that. How do
you
know him, Moose?" the
sheriff asked.
"He
helped me clear some trees off my land a couple of months ago on his day
off," Moose said. "I ran into him again in Laurel Landing two
days ago, and he was plenty steamed about the way he and Wally had been getting
along, but when I pressed him for specifics, he wouldn’t give me any
details."
The
sheriff nodded as I stared at my grandfather. Moose knew so much about
what went on in our area that it amazed even me at times.
"How
about the other two names you promised me?" the sheriff asked him.
"You
really should talk to Penny Rusk. Wally dumped her last week,"
Moose said.
"How
on earth could you know that?" I asked, forgetting that I wasn’t
the one posing the questions here.
"I
hear things," Moose said. "I don’t go around looking
for information, but it still seems to find me just fine."
My
grandfather was an excellent source of gossip, which he liked to call
information, and I didn’t doubt that anything he was reporting was true.
"And
lastly?"
"Try
Dave Evans. Victoria and the rest of us here weren’t the only ones
who bought produce straight from Wally’s farm. I heard Dave and
Wally myself almost come to blows over a bill last week as I was passing by the
back of the grocery store. I hate to say it now, given what happened to
Wally, but Dave was as mad as I’ve ever seen him."
"Is
that it?" the sheriff asked as he finished taking his notes.
"Like
I said, that’s just off the top of my head. I feel bad enough
telling you about those three. I don’t like the idea of being a
rat."
"You’re
not being one in my book," the sheriff said as he put his notebook
away. "You’re facilitating an ongoing police
investigation."
"Call
it whatever you want," Moose said, "but it still leaves a bad taste
in my mouth."
"Well,
I for one appreciate it," the sheriff said.
"I’m
willing to bet that the three of them won’t," Moose said.
"Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go over something with
Greg in the kitchen before I go."
Sheriff
Croft got a call on his radio as he nodded to Moose, and then he turned his
back to us. The sheriff was on for a long time, and when he finally got
off, there was a pronounced frown on his face.
"Is
there trouble?" I asked.
"More
than I even like to think about," he said. "I just got my
monthly update on crime in our area. It’s something the state
police are doing as a courtesy, but to tell you the truth, at times it can be a
little overwhelming, given my limited time, budget, and staff. Why Raleigh insists on doing it over the radio is beyond me."
"What
kind of problems do you have to deal with on a countywide basis?" I
asked, curious about the kinds of trouble the sheriff had to deal with.
"Let’s
see. There have been a couple of cases of arson in the area recently,
somebody’s called in three bomb threats to one of the local high schools
in Laurel Landing, the marijuana trade is evidently picking up throughout the
entire county, and there was an attempted robbery in Molly’s Corners this
morning that didn’t turn out how the crook expected."
"Was
anyone hurt in the robbery?" Moose asked as he returned just in time to
hear the sheriff mention the robbery "No, in a way, that one’s kind
of funny. It turned out the perp picked the wrong woman to go after in
the mall parking lot. She was an off-duty state police investigator out
on maternity leave, and she was shopping for diapers when he made a grab for
her purse. Evidently, she had him in handcuffs before he knew what hit
him. She told one of the cops who came onto the scene that she’d
been missing the action of her job, and she had a lot of fun apprehending
him. All in all, it’s nothing much out of the ordinary, and all of
it can wait. I’ve got a murder on my hands at the moment, and that
goes to the head of the line." Almost as an afterthought, he turned
back to us on his way out and said, "I’ll touch base with you two
later."
After
the sheriff left the diner, Moose started to disappear in back, no doubt to
confer with Greg about something culinary.
I
wasn’t about to let him get away with scooting off, though, as I followed
him into the kitchen.
My
grandfather and I needed to have a little chat.
As I
walked into the room, I found Moose waiting for me with an agitated expression
on his face. "Now Victoria, before I get a lecture from you about
being loyal to my friends and keeping my mouth shut with the police, you need
to realize that I had to say what I did to Sheriff Croft. It was the
only
way I could get the man off our family as his main suspects, and I had to do it
fast."
"I
just have one question for you, Moose. You didn’t make any of that
up, did you?" I asked him.
"Of
course not. Everything I told him was the solid truth, and if I
hadn’t done it, he would have never allowed us to dig into the murder
ourselves."
"Okay,
I can see that," I said, accepting his explanation. My grandfather
had taught me many things in my lifetime, and some of them might even conflict
on occasion, but one thing was certain; he was a man of his word, and I knew
that I could always believe him when he told me that he was telling the
truth. Sure, Moose might fib to me to get a smile, but he would never
outright lie. It was something I could count on as much as I did seeing
the sun coming up in the east every morning.
When
Greg saw that the tension between my grandfather and me was gone, he asked,
"If you don’t mind me asking, who are your suspects so far?"
Moose
started to tell him when I interrupted. "It doesn’t bother
you if we do this, does it, Greg?"
"Are
you kidding? If you hadn’t decided to do it yourselves, I was going
to urge you both to find the killer. This could destroy the diner if
folks think one of us killed Wally Bain, and the questions the sheriff is going
to be asking around town aren’t going to help matters any."
"Does
that mean that you’re not worried about me?" I asked him.
"Of
course I am," he answered quickly, "but you’re a grown woman,
and your grandfather has grown even more. That’s only fair, since
he’s been here a whole lot longer than you have." He added
the last bit with a slight grin.
"What
is that supposed to mean?" Moose asked him.
"That
if we cut you in half and counted your rings, I’d probably get tired
before we got from the middle to the outside edge."
"Is
that a comment on my age, or your math skills?" Moose asked with a smile
of his own.
"Maybe
a little bit of both, to be honest with you," my husband answered with a
laugh. The two of them were so close that it was hard to believe
sometimes that they were only related through Greg’s marriage to
me.
"Okay
you two," I said. "Enough with the semi-witty banter."
"Come
on, Victoria," Moose said. "We were just getting warmed
up."
"Sorry,
but you’ll have to save it for another day." I looked
intently at Moose as I asked, "Should we call a family meeting, or should
we just assume that everyone else will be fine with our investigation?"
"I
say we act first and apologize later," Moose said happily.
"Greg?"
I asked.
"If
you ask me, you should take three minutes to call your mom and dad before you
do anything," he said to me, and then he turned to Moose.
"You, on the other hand, might need a little more time to persuade
Martha, but it will be well spent, if I know your wife at all."
Moose
nodded as his smile faded. "When you’re right, you’re
right. I’ll be back."
I
would have loved to have heard what he was going to say to my grandmother, but
I had two calls of my own to make.
Once
Mom and Dad heard the circumstances of Wally’s murder, and how we were
all tied into it, they gave me their blessing to investigate, with the two
reservations that Moose and I be careful, and that I look out for my
grandfather. I assured them that I would, hoping that I’d be able
to keep the promise that we’d be careful, but with Moose, it didn’t
do to ever take
anything
for granted.
Chapter 2
Moose
came back into the kitchen a minute after I hung up with my father.
"We’re all clear," he said as he gave me a thumbs-up.
"Did
Martha insist on any restrictions?" I asked. I knew my grandmother
too well, and she didn’t suffer fools gladly, even when Moose played the
part from time to time.
"I’m
supposed to keep you safe," he admitted reluctantly. "How
about you?"
"I’ve
been instructed to watch out for you, too," I said with a grin.
"Good
luck with that," Moose said laughing. "Better folks than you
have tried over the years, and the only thing that they had in common was that
they all failed miserably."
"Well,
I’ll just have to do my best," I said, and then I turned back to my
husband. "Greg, I’m going to see if Jenny can come in early
to watch the front so Moose and I can start digging." Jenny
Hollister was our late afternoon-early evening server, working from four to
seven at the diner. That schedule allowed her to go to college nearby
during the day, work a little at the diner for some spending money, and still
have her late evenings free. I wished yet again that I had her energy,
but I didn’t envy anything else about her life, though she clearly
thrived on her hectic schedule.