Murder in a Basket (An India Hayes Mystery) (14 page)

“
Ina!” I called. The park wasn’t that big nor the forest so thick that we were cut off from civilization. At most, Debra and I stood a quarter mile from the parking lot, and the sound of traffic was clearly audible. It would only take a minute to run to the road, flag down a car, and throw together a search party. What was I thinking? My cell phone was in my pocket. I’d just call Mains, and he’d have the police department mobilized within minutes.

“
Shhh!” Ina’s head peeked out from behind a bush.

“
Where have you been?” I demanded a little more harshly than I intended. I would never admit it to her, but she gave me a fright.

“
Follow me,” she whispered and disappeared back behind the bush. Debra followed her through the shrubbery faster than I would have thought possible, and I found myself alone on the path. I hurried after them.

When I stepped out from the bush, Ina and Debra stood beneath a denuded sycamore tree with their necks bent back
, looking straight up.

“
Shhh!” They both looked at me with a finger to their lips.

“
What is it?” I hissed.

Debra pointed up. I looked up. Way up at the very top of the tree was a large blob. It had to be a bird, but it was huge. It was much larger than the red
-tailed hawks that so commonly perch on power lines in town. I lifted the binoculars to my eyes. It was a bald eagle. My breath caught. I’d seen a bald eagle in the wild many times, but never in my hometown of Stripling.

“
The Cuyahoga River isn’t far from here,” Debra said, her voice barely above a whisper and answering my unspoken question. “He was probably scouting it out for fish.”

“
Does it live here?” I asked.

Debra shook her head.
“I think he’s one of the pair that lives in Cuyahoga Valley National Park. It’s only ten miles from here by car, a lot closer by how an eagle flies.”

I agreed. Suddenly, the huge raptor spread his wings and took off. We followed it with our three sets of binoculars, tracking it until it was out of sight.

I was glowing from the bald eagle sighting when I walked onto the practice football field two hours later, rolling my blue cart of paintings behind me. It was Sunday, and Ina had gone to church, so she wasn’t playing my Watsonesque wingman this morning. I’d usually be there myself, sinking into my pew as my mother told yet another embarrassing story about me, my family, or both from the pulpit. She says we make excellent sermon illustrations, but I’m convinced she just likes to see us squirm. Because of the festival, I’d gotten a pass that Sunday morning. Well, if not a pass, at least a believable excuse.

My glow faded when I saw Jerry there setting up his booth for the day. Jerry tested the heat of his
blowtorch against an iron hook.

David walked over and stood beside me.
“He said he couldn’t stand being at home or at his forge any longer,” he said as if reading my mind.

I bit my lip. I wondered if I would have the strength to entertain the public after losing someone
as close to me as Jerry had. I doubted it. I doubted it a lot.

David patted my shoulder.
“I’ll be sure to stop by your booth later to see your work. Who knows, maybe we can find a place for you at the co-op.”

Tess’s place
, he meant.

I was setting up my booth for the day when Celeste and the two other beaders arrived. The trio chatted
away until Jerry came into view. Celeste dropped her bags by the beader booth and ran over to him. Jerry, who was hanging iron kitchen hooks on a large Pegboard, grimaced. They were on the other side of the field from me, so I couldn’t hear their exchange. I meandered in their direction, trying my best to look inconspicuous.

“
I don’t need your help.” Jerry’s tone was gruff.

Celeste was crestfallen.
“I—I’m sorry.”

“
You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” Jerry snarled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were the one who killed her.”

Celeste’s mouth fell open.

The whoosh of a prairie skirt grazing the grass came from behind me. I turned to see Beth approaching at a fast trot. “Celeste, we need help setting up the booth.”

Jendy was a few steps behind Beth
, twisting the hem of her pioneer skirt.

With tears in her eyes,
Celeste kicked the ground. A tuft of grass bounced off Jerry’s cart. “No, I didn’t like her. She stole you from me.”

“
I never belonged to you, not like I belonged to Tess.” Jerry turned his back to her and resumed hanging hooks.

Celeste stumbled into the arms of her fellow beaders as if he’d slapped her. She threw her companions aside and fled. Jendy went after her, and I slunk back to my booth.

Fifteen minutes later, Jendy returned without Celeste. She and Beth held a whispered conversation in their booth.

“
Is everything okay?” I asked.

Jendy’s purple hair peeked out from under her
mobcap. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

They went back to whispering.

Later that morning, I folded dollar bills into my fanny pack from my most recent face painting, a Frankenstein’s head on a seven-year-old’s cheek. It was the last day of the festival, and with all things considered, it had been a success. The festival had attracted a record turnout. The question was if that was because people wanted to learn the history of their town and buy some crafts from local artisans or if they came in hopes of seeing a crime scene. Either way, Carmen was pleased. When she stopped by my booth later that morning to tell me the good news, she didn’t even yell at me for not wearing my pink gingham nightmare.

During the lull in the crowd, I called Lew.

“Have you found a kennel?” I asked.

There was a hoarse sigh on the other end of the line.

“Lew.”

“
I knew I’d rue the day I gave you my cell number.”

“
Did you find a kennel for Zach or not?”

Instead of answering, he yelled into my ear.
“Careful with that. It’s worth more than you make in a year.”

“
Ouch,” I complained.

“
My apologies. I’m dealing with a pack of butterfingers here.”

“
Where are you?”

“
Victor’s house. Your provost’s lawyer dropped by my office yesterday. He requested a full inventory of Victor’s possessions before the estate can be settled.”

“
Wasn’t that done after Victor’s death?”

“
It was.” I heard him take a pull from a cigarette. “What a nightmare.”

“
Why do you say that?”

“
There are some small but very expensive pieces missing from the house.”

“
Were they there during the first inventory?”

“
Yes, I’m positive. We took digital pictures.” Lew groaned.

“
What’s missing?”

“
Valuable coins, small medals, and a few antiques.”

“
Sounds like a lot. Tess was in charge of the trust. Maybe she sold some of these items.”

“
She’d better not have. The trust said nothing could be sold or removed from the house by Tess until after Zach’s death. The trust was very specific on that point. Victor wasn’t going to let anyone out of caring for his dog.”

“
What do you think happened?”

“
Isn’t it obvious? Someone stole from the estate and fenced the antiques.”

“
Was everything missing photographed?”

“
You’re thinking whoever took the items used the photographs as a key to what was valuable?”

“
Makes sense.”

He sighed.
“I already thought the same thing. It has to be an inside job. The items stolen were too specific, and all were photographed for the last audit. Unfortunately, a lot of people knew about those photographs: the auditors, photographers, lawyers, and family members. We are talking thirty people plus.”

“
Yes, but who had access to them to note their value?”

“
I don’t know if the auditors and photographers kept copies, but I imagine they did. Also Sam Lepcheck and his lawyer each got copies. I gave copies to Debra Wagtail as a courtesy. Tess had copies of course, because she was ultimately responsible for the items.”

“
Which means her husband and son had access to the photographs, too.”

“
Probably,” he agreed.

“
Where is the house? Is it secure or easy to break into?”

“
It’s a huge gray Victorian not far from the square.”

“
Lew, there are at least six gray Victorians in and around the square. Be more specific.”

“
It’s five-four-five Roland Street.”

“
Roland Street?” I paused. “We used to say that house was haunted when we were kids.”

If I remembered correctly, the house in question was a massive affair with a turret and huge front porch. It was regularly the target of middle school pranks, which amounted to toilet papering and sometimes even egging. Not that I had ever done either of those delinquent misdemeanors, or at least I
’d never gotten caught. I didn’t know where the haunted story came from, but it was just accepted as fact by kids growing up in Stripling. Could it be because Victor was an elderly man living all alone in that big house? I hadn’t known whose house it was when I’d tossed my rolls of toilet paper into the trees as a part of seventh-grade initiation.

“
It still might be. Anyway, the house is secure. There’s an alarm system, and it’s intact. No sign of forced entry. Your buddy Officer Knute is here. We called the cops when we discovered it was more than one or two items missing.”

“
How will this affect Zach?” I felt my shoulder begin to ache, a sure sign of tension. It was doing that a lot lately.

“
It might take longer to settle everything than I first thought.”

“
You are trying to find him a kennel, aren’t you?”

“
I’m still working on it. It’s not just a matter of finding the kennel.”

“
I don’t think I’m going to like this.”

“
One of the stipulations of the trust states Zach cannot be in a kennel for any extended period of time. I’m sure Victor built this in to keep his family members from stowing the dog somewhere, then spending its money. I have it with a judge right now because of the extenuating circumstances, but she’s yet to make a ruling.”

“
What is an extended period of time?”

“
According to the trust, no more than four hours.”

“
Four hours.” I ground my teeth. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Lew inhaled in my ear.
“Can’t say I remembered the stipulation at the time.”

“
What kind of trust did you write for Victor anyway? Could you’ve made it any harder?”

His voice took on an edge.
“I write what my clients ask me to write. I can advise them, but they don’t have to listen to me. Trust me, Victor never did.”

“
You have to make other arrangements for Zach. He and my cat are at war. Right now, he’s with my parents.”

Lew groaned.
“They didn’t take him to a peace march, did they?”

“
No, but I can’t promise they won’t. You’ve got to take him.”

“
I’ll see what I can do. I’ll put some pressure on the judge and maybe get an answer soon.” His tone was dubious.

“
I want those answers today, Lew. Or I’m dropping Zach on your doorstep.”

Lew laughed. He knew I would never do it. I was too much of a softie when it came to animals. I
’d taken Mark’s troublesome cat Theodore in after all. Okay, Ina took him in, but I was the one who’d found him a good home.

Crash
sounded through the phone receiver.

Lew grunted.
“India, I have to go. Your friend Officer Knute is making a point to break all the antiques we have left.”

“
What about Zach?”

“
I’ll see what I can do,” he said, clearly finished with our conversation. “In the meantime, don’t let your parents do anything drastic to him, like tie-dye his fur.” He disconnected before I could respond.

The crowd was pretty light as I mulled over my conversation with Lew. It was just after
noon, and most of the festivalgoers had moseyed over to the food vendors for lunch. I realized this was my opportunity to question some of the crafters more thoroughly. I had one particular crafter in mind.

I told the beaders, who amounted to Jendy and Beth—Celeste had not returned after her run-in with Jerry that morning—I was going on a lunch run
, and they agreed to watch my booth. On the way to AnnaMarie’s broom booth, I stopped and bought an elephant ear. It was part of my cover, so I felt obligated. I could have found a healthier lunch option at the festival, but in times of stress, sugar is always my go-to drug. I made a point of forgetting my pledge to eat healthier for the remainder of the festival.

A small cluster of people gathered around AnnaMarie’s booth as she stitched a broom with a needle as hard and thick as a roofing nail threaded with thick hemp
-like twine. It was a round broom and clenched in an iron vise.

If she noticed me joining
folks around the booth, she gave no indication. She tapped the uneven bristles of the broom, still covered in broomcorn seeds. “This is a hearth broom. It’s also known as a round broom. It’s called a hearth broom because women in pioneer days used it to clean out the hearth after cooking. When I finish sewing it together, I’ll cut the end with this blade.” She placed her hand on a contraption that looked like a medieval version of the library’s paper cutter. “The ends will be so even the broom will be able to stand on its bristles without falling over. If it can do that, it’s the sure sign you have a good handmade broom.” She picked up the round broom from the table next to the vise and stood it on end. The group applauded.

After the onlookers disbursed, AnnaMarie smiled at me.
“I remember meeting you last night, but I’m sorry I can’t remember your name. I’m so bad at names, and I was so upset.”

“
India.”

“
What a pretty and unusual name. I should’ve been able to remember that.” She frowned as if disappointed in herself.

“
Nothing to worry about,” I assured her. “I just wanted to stop by and say hello while on my lunch break.” I held up the elephant ear as evidence. “Your brooms are beautiful. I tried my hand at broom making once. It’s hard work. I remember my hands hurt for days afterward.”

She smiled.
“You get used to it after a while, and it builds up your hand strength. There isn’t a bottle or jar I can’t open myself. My husband asks me to open jars for him, not the other way around.” She sat on a folding chair she had behind her booth. “Looks like most people are off in search of lunch. Why don’t you come around and have a seat?”

I shuffled around the booth, offering her part of my elephant ear as I sat.

“No, thanks. I’m not much for sweets.” AnnaMarie didn’t make eye contact. Instead, she looked across the field. Following her gaze, I noticed for the first time she was directly across from David’s papermaking booth. He was in the middle of a demonstration but caught us staring. He smiled and gave us a half wave. “David’s been so supportive,” AnnaMarie said finally.

The way she said it made me wonder if there was a story of unrequited love there.

“He seems to believe in the co-op.”

“
Oh, he does. It was his vision. He wanted Stripling artists to have a place they could work within the community. David’s a strong believer in community-building.”

He should talk to my parents, I thought. On second thought, a very, very bad idea.

She met my gaze. “I want to apologize for how I behaved yesterday. I was such a mess.”

I swallowed my bite of elephant ear.
“There’s nothing to apologize for. You’d just lost your friend. It’s completely understandable.”

She shook her head.
“Derek’s the one who’s suffered the greatest loss. He’s a sweet boy, especially considering everything he’s gone through.”

I nodded.
“Do you remember anything in particular about the day Tess was killed?”

She winced slightly but answered my question readily.
“Nothing out of the ordinary. We’ve done hundreds of these craft fairs or festivals. It’s always the same drill, generally the same clientele. There were more young people about this year, but I think it’s because we were on campus. Usually there’re only a handful of those. I left at five. I had to pick up my daughter from band practice. She goes to the middle school. The only small thing I remember . . .” she paused.

“
Yes?”

“
. . . was Tess bringing Zach here.”

I took another bite of elephant ear to hide my disappointment. Powdered sugar puffed around my head in a sweet-smelling cloud, my idea of perfume.

“When I saw him with her that morning, I told her she shouldn’t have brought him.”

“
Why’s that?”

“
Because this was her brother’s turf and bringing the dog here was like, well, like rubbing his nose in the fact that Victor left her the money.”

“
How’d she take that?”

AnnaMarie bit her lower lip.
“She laughed and said I was silly to worry. Now, I’m not so sure.”

“
About what?”

“
Maybe he was so upset she brought the dog, he did something.”

“
You think her brother killed her? Is that what you think?”

“
I . . . I don’t know. I just can’t think of anyone else who was upset with her. Sam really wanted that money.”

I stuffed the remainder of the
elephant ear in my mouth. I’d certainly seen Lepcheck mad before, but mad enough to kill his own sister? I couldn’t buy it, and he most certainly wouldn’t do it on campus. Talk about bad press for Martin, and Lepcheck loathes bad press.

“
Tess really loved Zach,” AnnaMarie said reflexively. “After the initial shock of course.”

“
Shock?”

“
Over the trust. She had no idea why her uncle would leave the trust and Zach in her care. At first she didn’t want to take the money. It was too much responsibility. Tess was a free spirit. She didn’t want to be tied down, most especially by money.”

“
I suppose she could have turned down the trust.”

“
She almost did, but in the end she felt she couldn’t, not really. She had to think of what was best for Derek, too. Private college tuition is expensive, and with the economy in the tanker, there’s no guarantee Derek will be able to pay off his loans after graduation. Zach can’t live forever. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great dog, and I’d hate for anything to happen to him. But after Zach passed on, Derek would’ve been well taken care of. I don’t know what will happen to either of them now.”

“
I heard she planned to give a portion of the money to the co-op.”

“
She did. A quarter of it at least, which is more money than the co-op’s ever seen. It would have been nice, too. We’d use the money to renovate the rest of the outbuildings. We could add more artists and pay someone to improve our website. One of the outbuildings would be transformed into a gallery with a shop to sell our pieces. It would have been fabulous and put us on the bus tour route if done right. So many plans flew around the co-op when Tess made her announcement.”

“
She announced this?”

“
Yes, at the last members meeting. It was the first Monday of October. All members meetings are on the first Monday of the month.”

“
Didn’t that seem a tad premature? Why did she make that announcement when Zach could live for many more years?”

She shrugged.
“That’s Tess for you. When she got an idea in her head, she went for it.”

“
Was everyone happy with the news?”

“
Well, no. Jerry was upset and stomped out of the meeting.”

“
Do you know why?”

“
He didn’t know about Tess’s decision.”

“
She didn’t tell her husband before she made the big announcement?”

“
It probably didn’t occur to her. I’m not saying Tess was insensitive, but she didn’t always think things through before running full speed ahead.”

“
Did he feel better about it when he cooled down?”

“
You’d have to ask him, but I don’t think so.” She thought for a minute. “I don’t think he believes in the co-op as much as Tess did. He was a successful independent blacksmith before becoming a member. He joined the co-op after he and Tess were married. David and the others weren’t too keen on letting him in but agreed in the end because they knew the large commissions a good blacksmith could bring in. A portion of whatever we make through selling our works or through commissions goes to the co-op.”

“
Were they reluctant because of Celeste’s history with Jerry?”

AnnaMarie reddened.
“You heard about that?”

“
That they were once engaged? Yes.”

AnnaMarie looked away from me. She watched David again. He
clothespinned freshly made paper on a clothesline strung from one end of his booth to the other.

“
And how long has Celeste been a member of the co-op?” I asked.

“
Since the beginning. She, Tess, and David were the three founding members.”

“
Was it awkward for Tess to be in the same co-op with Celeste?”

“
There was tension, yes. Celeste and Jerry were engaged when the co-op started.” She blushed slightly. “I believe that’s how Tess met Jerry—through Celeste.”

No wonder Celeste wasn’t one of Tess’s biggest fans.
“That must have been uncomfortable.”

AnnaMarie shook her head.
“Tess didn’t let that type of stuff bother her. She always claimed Jerry was the one for her. I think it was hard for Celeste though. She made no secret about how she felt about Tess.”

“
How so?”

“
She’d make a snide remark about Tess’s baskets or talk behind her back. Petty things like that. She never said anything much to me because Tess and I were such good friends, but I heard it from other people.”

“
Who?”

“
I can’t remember exactly,” she said vaguely.

I let it go for the moment. A little chat with Celeste was overdue. I stood and thanked AnnaMarie for her time.

She grabbed my wrist. “I don’t want it to seem as if Tess was a man stealer. It’s just when she saw Jerry, she had to have him.”

Unfortunately, a man stealer was exactly what Tess seemed like, and people have killed for far less.