Nobody's Sorry You're Dead: A Hadley Pell Cozy Mystery (12 page)

“
B
eanie
,” Hadley said, getting into the truck, “is that chocolate smeared all over your face?”

Beanie quickly wiped his face with his sleeve.

“Brinkley’s stash is minus one candy bar, isn’t it?” Hadley asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Beanie said. “You were gone so long, Hadley. I just knew you were buying all those books. I went in there once. I know how many books is in that place. A gazillion tramillion. I figured I might as well not starve to death while I waited. I’m sorry, Hadley. I’ll buy Brinkley another one.”

“Don’t worry about it, Bean,” Hadley said. She laughed. “I can’t be mad when Miz Anna just pardoned me from paying off all those late fees.”

“You got out of jail?” Beanie asked.

“I might as well have. She forgave the late fees. I didn’t have to buy the library, Beanie, but it was close. She really had me going. But Anna is a good cookie.”

“Hadley,” Beanie said, “I’d a rather had a cookie. Brinkley’s candy bar had
coconuts
in it. I don’t think I like
coconuts
too good.”

“Beanie,” Hadley said, “Butterfingers don’t have coconut in them. I’ll bet that thing was full of worms!”

“Well, that’s good to know,” Beanie said. “I always thought I liked
coconuts
, but after that candy bar, I was having my doubts. It made me feel bad, you know, not liking
coconuts
no more. But, I feel better knowing those weren’t coconuts. I’m so glad I can say I still like
coconuts
.”

“Beanie,” Hadley said, “that’s what I love about you. You always see the glass half full.”

“Half full of ice cream and soda?”

“No. We’re going to get a full glass of that. You sure you feel all right after that candy bar?”

“As right as rain,” said Beanie.

Hadley cranked the old truck and headed for The Creamery.

A
few months earlier
.

* * *

“
A
ntique tractors are bringing
record prices,” Eustian said. “I been biding my time, waiting, and now is the time to sell. I’ve got a rare beaut! I’ve had it stored in my barn for years. Picked that little baby up for a song forty years ago. One just like mine sold for 6 figures! 6 figures! I ain’t lyin.’”

“What you need me for, Mr. Singlepenny?” Sandy Miller said.

“Got a few parts I need fabricated. Been restoring that gem a little along, through the years. Some things I just can’t do. With the market so hot right now, I figure it’s worth going ahead and finishing it. Neither me nor that tractor is getting’ any younger.”

“I know what you’re saying, Mr. Singlepenny,” Sandy said.

You’re the best, Miller. I seen some of your work.”

“I’ll come over and look it,” said Sandy. “Give you an estimate. You decide whether or not you want me to do the job.”

“Fair ’nough,” said Eustian. “I know you’re good Sandy. There’s an art to metal working. Even I know that. I hate to part with the money I know you’re gonna charge, but in the end, you’re an artist. If I want to get top dollar for her, I’m gonna have to shell out some dough. You come by, and I’ll show you what I need. Come next Tuesday ’bout two o’clock.”

Sandy was hired.

As he drove away from the Singlepenny place that Tuesday afternoon, Sandy Miller had an uneasy feeling that he’d stood at the crossroads with the devil. The young man surely hoped that he would not live to regret accepting this job. He smiled wryly. When all was said and done, he hoped he wouldn’t get burned.

Sandy Miller was well known throughout the county. Anyone whoever did business with Sandy would be hard-pressed to find a more honest and trustworthy fellow. Sandy owned a small metal shop. He had one employee, his younger brother, Gunn, but together, the two had slowly earned a reputation for quality work at fair prices.

Sandy never married. He had always been too busy making an honest buck, but in the last year, he’d struck up a nice friendship with Rayna Croft.

Rayna ran Croft’s Orchards, along with her son, Richie. It had been a touch and go for many orchards in the county. Late frosts had wiped out the crops. Sandy knew all the farmers in the area. He even helped some of them by doing odd jobs through the years.

Rayna and Richie had hired him and Gunn several times. That’s how Sandy had gotten to know her. This year’s yield promised to be record breaking. Finally, it looked like fortune had smiled on the orchard growers of Hope Rock County.

The western end of Croft’s Orchards abutted Eustian’s property line. Eustian was always causing trouble for the Crofts, so when Sandy told her that Singlepenny had contacted him about some work, Rayna was leery.

“Watch yourself, Sandy,” Rayna said. “Think long and hard before you decide to have any dealings with that old devil.”

“I know Eustian Singlepenny leaves a bad taste in your mouth, Rayna. I understand.”

Nobody could understand, Rayna thought.

“You’re a saint for putting up with his shenanigans all these years. Frankly, I don’t know how you’ve managed it.”

“I have this crazy habit, Sandy,” Rayna said. “I just can’t seem to break it. I like to eat.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Sandy said. “That’s the reason I’m probably gonna have to do the job for him. I know Eustian is a boil on the bottom of the world, but he’s a customer. His money is as good as anybody else’s, and I’m in business to make money. I went over to his place. He hired me to make some parts for him. I’m gonna start tomorrow.”

“So,” Rayna said, “you were the
unlucky
one who got to cross the Singlepenny threshold after all these years. I bet it’s been a coon’s age since anybody set foot in that place. They say his mama had a few visitors out there, but she’s been dead for ages. Nobody’s been inside the house since she passed. Who would? I mean he has more
No
Trespassing signs nailed up on the porch than cod liver oil has stink.”

“No, I didn’t go inside Eustian’s house either, Rayna,” said Sandy. “He was waiting for me in the yard when I drove up. Directed me to the barn where he keeps his old tractor.”

“Oh,” Sandy said.

“Eustian’s a queer bird. He said he wanted me to come out, give him a price, take the busted parts I’m gonna restore, and leave.”

“Well,” said Rayna, “that sounded like a neighborly visit.”

“Well, there’s no law that says I had to go inside his house to do business with the man, Rayna. He probably didn’t invite me in because then he would have felt obliged to offer me something to drink or something.”

“Just be careful,” said Rayna. “Dot you i’s and cross your t’s with that man. Get it all down in writing and make him sign it.”

“Oh, don’t you fret none,” Sandy said. “I will. I will.”

“
H
ey
, Sandy,” Ruth said. “Heard about Eustian spreading dirt on you. That old coot’s a trip. You must be pretty upset. That man is talking all over town about how you took stuff out of his barn.”

“Yeah,” Sandy said. “Eustian’s got a mouth on him that goes nonstop.”

“And what he spreads is ugly and rotten like diarrhea,” Ruth said.

“Well,” Sandy said, “I never heard it put quite like that before, but I really don’t think that man’s ever had a sunny day in his life. He likes nothing better than to bad mouth everything and everybody. I’ve had a couple guys come into the shop telling me some of the stuff he’s saying. He’s got a great imagination, if nothing else.”

“Yeah,” said Ruth, “and it lives in the sewer. Nobody thinks you took anything from him, Sandy. Eustian just loves throwing rotten apples at everybody.”

Sandy was at his table at the Saturday flea market. The metal shop took up a lot of his time, but in his spare time, he made and plated jewelry and coins. He was a regular at the weekly flea market held in the parking lot of Pixie-Squares.

Ruth sat down in the empty chair next to him.

“You know,” Ruth said, “I’ve been wondering if a small shop set up in the John James’ old photography studio building wouldn’t be a good way to advertise the work of the wildlife shelter.”

“What do you mean? Hey, Richie. Where’s your mom?” Sandy said.

“She’s over there haggling with Jewel over some tomato plants,” said Richie.

Rayna walked up behind Richie.

“I heard that. How many times have I told you, son,” Rayna said, “I don’t haggle. I bargain.”

“I’m going over to check out some tools I see over there,” said Richie.

“I hitched a ride with Richie, this morning,” Rayna said. “He’s totally under-whelmed that he is here with mama. I like to come near the end. You can get your best deals that way. Richie likes to come in the morning. He’s pouting, I guess. Says all the good stuff is gone, by now. ”

“Poor baby,” Ruth said. “He’ll get over it.”

They all laughed.

“What do you have in mind,” Sandy said, after Rayna left.

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s still in the planning stages. But you know since John closed down his studio, his little building has just stood vacant. You know I run the shelter on a shoe-string budget and donations. If it wasn’t for the volunteers, I couldn’t operate. I’m so thankful for the help everyone gives.

“If John would agree, I’d like to set up something that would advertise the shelter. You know, try to get the word out to even more people. I’d like to set it up on a permanent basis, but we’ll have to see. At first, I’d thought of a little shop, but that idea would involve capital.

“But lately, I’ve been toying with the idea of setting up a space that showcases the artisans and craftsmen of the area. We have so many skilled people, like yourself, who make so many wonderful things. Like your crafts. There is such a large pool of talent, here.

“What if we set up the space to showcase artists, just to get traffic into the shop, and then, educate folks about the work we do at the wildlife rescue?”

“That’s a great idea,” Sandy said. “You know, you might have musicians drop in, say on Sunday afternoons, for added flavor. There’s plenty of good folks you could ask. Banjos, guitars, fiddles. They make sweet music. I know several families and groups that gather and jam just for the fun of it. You might ask several of them if they’d like to donate their time and talent to a worthy cause. Would get you good publicity, and them, too.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. That’s a wonderful idea,” said Ruth. “You’re good friends with John. I was wondering if you might test the waters with him. See how he feels. If he agrees, we could have the folks who wanted to participate and showcase their crafts pay a small percentage to the cause. That way the electricity bill and water could be paid.”

“I’m in,” said Sandy. “I’ll talk to him, and let you know. He loves what you’re doing out at the shelter. I’m sure he’d agree, but I’ll call you after we talk.”

“Thanks, Sandy,” Ruth said, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. “You’re a good friend.”

This idea of Ruth’s was a good one. He decided to visit John later that evening. He was grateful Ruth had talked over her plans about the new venture. At least, it got his mind off Eustian. That was a stew that had given him a really bad case of indigestion.

“Hey, Bill,” Sandy said, starting to pack up for the day.

“Any luck, Sandy,” Bill said.

“Some. How’s Maury?”

“Fine,” Bill said.

“That’s strange,” said Sandy.

“What’s the matter?” Bill asked.

“I’m missing a bottle of my plating solution,” Sandy said. “Some folks want to know how what’s involved in making some of my stuff. I’ve been bringing some of the items for display. It’s a real conversation starter. Actually helped me sell a few more pieces, lately.

Maybe, I left it at home, but I don’t think so.”

“You look worried. Afraid somebody’s gonna outdo you with this stuff you make?”

“No. Not at all. Nothing like that. Geez, Bill, I think I’ve made a huge mistake bringing some of chemicals I work with.”

“What are you talking about, Sandy,” Bill said.

Bill face was turning red. This conversation didn’t seem to be heading down a good road. He just wished Sandy would tell him what was wrong. Maybe he could fix the problem, right away.

“I brought my plating system, today. Some glass rods, gloves. Some of the chemicals I use to show how this is done. But I’m missing a bottle of solution. It’s not here. I’ve checked three times.”

“You’ve already said that, Sandy. What is it?” Bill said.

“Lord, have mercy, Bill. What have I done? That bottle has cyanide in it.”

“Cyanide!” Bill said.

“What! Are you crazy! What if a kid’s picked that up! Sandy, what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” Sandy said. “I work with these things every day. If you’re careful, they are safe. I’m sure no child has picked it up. I probably did just leave it at home. Gasoline’s more dangerous than cyanide, Bill. It will evaporate. The air will explode. I’m sure it’s at home. I’m sure. Eustian’s got me so riled. Have you heard the lies he’s been spreading on me! I don’t know my head from a hole in the ground.”

“Well, you go straight home. Call me if you really are missing that bottle. I’m serious. If I don’t hear from you, Sandy, I’ll know you have it at home. And for goodness sakes, don’t ever bring that stuff back to this flea market, again. I mean it.”

“You have my word on it, Bill. I’m sorry I scared you. I’m sure it’s home. I’m going there right now. If you don’t hear from me in thirty minutes, you’ll know everything’s okay.”

“All right, Sandy,” Bill said.

The things he had to deal with on a daily basis, from carelessness and just not thinking. Bill shook his head. He really hoped he did not hear from Sandy Miller in the next half hour. He really, really did.