Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 02 - Apple Pots and Funeral Plots (10 page)

Shelby
barked.
“No girl, you need to stay here.
It just doesn’t seem right to let you go out and do your business on someone’s gravesite.”

I opened the gate and walked through the black iron trellis that served as the front of the cemetery.
The graveyard was separated into four sections.
One looked like it was devoted to veterans, since an American flag was placed on each gravesite.
The second section was much older with gravestones of people who were buried over fifty years ago.
The third section was for more recent burials.
The fourth was subdivided into several smaller sections, each containing a large stone with a family’s name engraved on the top.

It took me a few minutes, but I finally located the Hayes family funeral plot.
A low white iron fence surrounded it and at each corner an angel statue stood playing a trumpet.
It was beautiful and serene.
Not a bad place to spend eternity.
Interned were a Jane and Edward Hayes, obviously Edith’s grandparents.
Next to them were Sally and James’s headstones.
No other family members were buried there.
They either chose to be buried someplace else or Sally was Jane and Edward’s only daughter, just as Edith was an only child.
Because of my allergies I didn’t get too close, since each headstone held a fresh bouquet of red roses, different than the rest of the cemetery.
Each of those gravesites held a bouquet of multi-colored flowers.
Obviously the town had spruced up the cemetery for the festival, but Edith had refused their flowers and had placed some of her own.

I got back into the car and drove down the road.
Kate was right; the big hole in the ground couldn’t be missed.
It was massive.
The trench was at least a hundred feet wide and twenty feet deep.
I parked on the side of the road, hooked
Shelby
up to her leash, and walked over to the trench.

I stood on the edge and looked down into the hole.
How could a house ever have been on this spot?
It must have been huge, or maybe they just dug the hole bigger than the original house.
There was nothing left of the place, not even a single burnt timber.
Everything had been taken away.

Just then my feet started to slide.
I could feel the ground giving way under me.
Panicked, I caught my breath, then heard someone scream, “Get back from there!
The ground’s not stable!”

The earth seemed to open up and I started to slide down into the hole.

Chapter 11

Thank God for
Shelby
.
When I began to slide, she started to pull away from the trench.
Bill’s brother, Jimmy, grabbed the end of the leash attached to
Shelby
and pulled me quickly back onto solid ground.

When I finally caught my breath, I scowled at Jimmy.
“Don’t you think you should have some kind of a sign to warn people about this ground?”

“Nobody ever comes over here,” he yelled, his voice cracking on the last two words.
“They all know we’ve had a lot of rain this year and that makes the ground around a hole like this unstable.”

“What about the festival people?”

“They all turn left on
Apple Way
and go to the carnival.
They just don’t come over here to view this big hole.”
He rubbed his forehead with his hand and laughed.
“It’s not much of an attraction.”

I could feel my pulse rate and breathing return to normal.
I chuckled.
“Lucky me.”

“Why are you here, anyway?”
Jimmy asked.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”
He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Okay.
Joe, from the inn, told me that Danielle asked a lot of questions about Sally.
So he directed me to Edith, Sally and James daughter.
She told me about the big hole.
I wanted to see it for myself, so here I am.”

“You were almost at the bottom of that hole, where the ground is even more unstable.”

I glanced down and shuddered.

Jimmy grabbed my arm as the ground started to slide again.
“Let’s go back by my patrol car.
I don’t want to end up at the bottom with you.

“Good idea.”
I followed Jimmy back to his car.

“So according to Joe and Edith, Danielle
asked
questions about Sally?”
Jimmy said as we settled back against the car.

“Yes.
I
thought,
maybe
,
that was why she came here.”

“That was all before my time here.”
He shrugged.

“What do you know about Sally’s death?”

“Crazy lady, big fire, and it lasted for days.
That’s it.”

“That does seem to be the popular story.”

“You mean there’s an unpopular story?

“Yes.”

“That’s news to me.
What is it?”

“According to Edith, her dad built the house so the timbers would
never
fall in.
He knew about the sawdust being flammable.
She says a board would never have come down and hit her mother.”

“Then how did Sally die?”

“Edith thinks someone killed her.”

He shook his head.
“That’s silly.
There’s no reason anyone would have to kill an old crazy lady.
Maybe Edith just wants to believe that her dad didn’t have a hand in killing her mom.”

“That could be.”
I shrugged.

“Anything new on the
Danielle
’s murder case?”

“Yes.
Did you know she had Sodium Pentothal in her system when she died?”

“Truth serum?”

“Yes.
Her aunt’s physician back in
Minnesota
performed a second autopsy.
Isn’t a copy of it in her file?”

“No, there’s no mention of another autopsy.”

“According to the physician’s records, he sent a copy to your station.”

“That’s strange.
Maybe someone at the office lost it or didn’t think it was relevant to the case.
She’d already been embalmed before we sent her.
Maybe it got into her accidentally.”

“Not likely.
So let’s say, hypothetically, she was given an injection.
What would someone gain by that?”

“I can only think of one reason - for information.”

“So what did she know?”

“I don’t have a clue.”
He shrugged.
“This is your hypothetical theory, not mine.
I still think she was killed by a vagrant looking for money.”

“Then why didn’t the vagrant take the two hundred dollars in her wallet?
Or better yet, take her entire purse?”

“He probably didn’t intend to kill her.
Just pull the knife, grab the purse, and take off.
Maybe she put up a fight and after he stabbed her he got scared and ran off.”

“Without her purse?
It was on the nightstand.
Why not grab it as you go out the door?”

“I guess some people don’t have their wits about them after they’ve killed someone.”

“That’s another thing.
Why stab her twice?
I would think one time would be enough.
Certainly it would have incapacitated her.”

“Sometimes, when people start stabbing, they can’t stop.”

“Then why only twice?”

“I don’t know, Liza.”
He shook his head.
“I wasn’t the killer.”

“I think there’s something wrong about her death.
It just doesn’t feel right.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t.
But I don’t know what we can
do about it.”

I liked the fact that Jimmy was on my side.
It was reassuring to know he felt the same way about Danielle’s death as I did.
“Jimmy, could you look into Sally and James’s deaths for me?”

“Why?”

“Well, my theory is, if Danielle was killed because she
asked
questions about Sally’s death, then maybe there’s something someone wants to hide about it.
And maybe that goes for James’s death, too.”

“I think you’re stretching for an answer.
As far as I know, Sally and James’s deaths were accidental.
Just bad luck.”

“To both husband and wife?”

“Sometimes tragedies happen like that.
I know quite a few people who’ve lost their parents within months of each other.
And there isn’t any good reason why.”

“I know.”
I tilted my head and pleaded, “But would you check the files anyway?”

“Sure,” he said, sighing.
“I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Thanks.”
I put my hand on his arm.
“I really appreciate it.”

“So, where are you headed now?”

“Back to the fairgrounds to check out some of the booths.”

“I better go and get a sign to warn others about the unstable ground around this hole.”

“Great idea.
Some poor unsuspecting person might accidentally fall in.”

We both laughed, and Shelby and I walked back to Kate’s car.
Jimmy took off and I drove into the massive parking lot next to the fairgrounds.
There was quite a collection of cars, from old junk heaps to several stretch black limousines.
Who takes a limousine to a festival?

I walked the two blocks over to the fairgrounds.
Booths surrounded the area on three sides, with the carnival in the middle.
The fourth side was reserved for the eating contest tables and food stands.
Behind them was a huge tent.
This festival was at least five or six times bigger than the Gainsville Spring Festival I’d attended a few months earlier.
Luckily the clowns and mimes were nowhere to be found.
Apparently, they were only for the parade, thank God!

I’d never seen so many booths selling one particular product before.
Apple pots were everywhere.
They came in a multitude of colors and designs, but all were basically the same form.
A few had more elaborate handles on them, but for the most part they were exactly the same size and shape.
All contained a three-by-five-inch card with the recipe for apple cobbler.

The first booth had homemade jams and jellies and - surprise-surprise - apple pots.
I walked up and picked up a jar of apricot jelly.

A lady wearing a blue apron headed over.
“Is that your favorite kind of jelly?”

“Yes.”

She smiled broadly and nodded.
“Usually people pick up their favorite one first.
Are you here all week for the contests or just for the day?”

“Oh, I’ll probably be here all week.”

“Great.”
She reached into the pocket of her apron and took out a biscuit.
“Can your dog have a treat?”

“Of course, she’d love one.
Just toss it in the air, she’ll get it.”

The lady tossed the treat and
Shelby
snatched it right out of the air.

“I see what you mean,” she said.

“It’s the only way to feed her treats without losing a finger or two.”
I laughed.

The lady laughed too.
“Would you like me to wrap up your jelly?”

“Yes, please.”
I handed her the jar and pointed around the fairground.
“This is a huge festival.”

As she wrapped the jar in newspaper, she said, “Yes, and it gets bigger each year.”

“This is my first time.
How long have you lived in Clainsworth?”

“About ten years.”

“What brought you here?”

“I was tired of the rat race of the San Francisco Bay Area and wanted to go to a nice quiet town.
I ended up here.
It’s a great place to live.”

“It sure looks nice and is kept so clean.”

“That’s because of the apple pot money.”
She pointed to the ones on her table.
“Everyone in town has a booth and we all sell them because that’s what keeps the town alive.”

“I’ve got a few already.”

“Good.”
She held up a purple apple pot.
“Can’t have too many.”

I waved her off.
“No thanks, just the jam.”

“Okay.”

I glanced over and saw that three booths down was a booth for the library.
“Even the library is here?”

The lady frowned.
“She doesn’t sell any apple pots.”

“I guess they don’t really go with the books.”

“Yeah, but she should be selling them, too.”

“There’s plenty at the other booths.”

“Edith never does what she’s supposed to do.”
The lady leaned over.
“She’s kind of crazy, like her mother.”

“Really?”
This town sure seemed quick to judge someone if they weren’t pushing apple pots.

“Yes.
Both her parents were killed in accidents and she hasn’t been the same since.”

“That’s terrible.”

“They were both nuts.”

“Wow, really?”

“Yeah, her dad was always searching the old mines.
He used to say that other people were using the mines, too.
And her mom heard strange noises all the time.”
The lady leaned closer to me and whispered.
“They were both paranoid and I’m afraid Edith is just like them.
You know what they say about the apple not falling far from the tree.”

I nodded.
“I’ve heard that before.”

The lady handed me the jam and I paid for it.
I told her thanks and moved to the next booth: quilts and apple pots.
As I looked at the quilt they were raffling off, I thought about what the woman had said.
She was right about the apple proverb.
I’d certainly seen that in dealing with kids at school.
I wondered about Edith and her parents.
Were they all just paranoid?
Or was something really going on in the little town of
Clainsworth
?