Authors: D. T. Jones
“Is she still alive?”
“Yes, but barely. She had a stroke about two years ago and has been struggling to regain her strength. I think that’s why Wayne spends so much time bothering others; the nurse they have staying with them isn’t exactly Florence Nightingale.”
“Poor old thing,” she said feeling suddenly sorry for the man. “It must be hard not to have someone to rely on in your old age.”
“You are amazing,” he sighed. “Only you would find sympathy for a man everyone else finds vexing.”
“You start being nice to him,” she scolded. “Put yourself in his place; how would you feel if you were childless with an invalid wife and nobody around to offer comfort or companionship? I’m sure you can put up with a few annoying visits and a little know-it-all comments from time to time.”
“Yes ma’am, I’ll try and be tolerant.” Sandra scowled at her husband’s light hearted joking as they turned the final corner that led to their house.
“You are a pest, do you know that?” she asked, smiling as he laughed at the irritated look on her face.
“And you my darling are incredible. I’ll try and be nice to the old bugger.”
They continued to walk in silence for a several long minutes, just enjoying the peaceful sounds of the country and the warm spring air. The smell of manure mingled with the scent of freshly turned soil, flowers and new mown grass; it was a smell that reminded her of home and Sandra breathed deeply. She may be thousands of miles from Kansas, but the feeling of a simpler life style, a comfortable and relaxed sense of a slower pace was the same. It was a feeling she would always enjoy, regardless of where she was.
“When did you want to leave for France?” Creighton asked a few minutes later. “We can stay a while longer in Chelsea if you’d like, or we can leave straight away when the party is over.”
“To be completely honest, I’d really like to leave tonight and get away from all the chaos.”
“Then tonight it is. I’ll have Clark pick up our bags and meet us at the airport around nine. That should give us enough time to mingle, eat, dance and leave without being rude.”
“I can hardly wait.”
“What about your sister?” he asked with a quiet tone. “Are you going to try and straighten things out with her before we go?”
“No,” she said flatly. “I am done trying to make her see reason. Now the ball is in her court; either she’s going to have to accept our marriage and handle the idea that I am grown up and living my own life, or wallow in her own self-righteousness. Either way, I’m done talking with her for a while.”
“I’m very proud of you for standing up to her. There are a few choice things I’d like to say to her, but I’ll keep quiet for now. But I promise, if she keeps trying to stomp you down, I will deal with her.”
“Just let it be,” Sandra insisted. “Cathy is stubborn but she’s usually reasonable. She flies off the handle easily and after a few days she relaxes and starts to think clearly again. I just don’t want anything to interfere with our evening, so promise you’ll avoid her at all costs.”
“I promise,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist as they continued to walk.
Creighton frowned when they neared the joining properties of their house and his parents’. In the front yard of their home sat two additional vehicles; one a large black SUV, the other a local police car. The workers were standing around the area where the backhoe sat silent along with both Creighton’s family and Sandra’s. The SUV had been pulled up near where the new garage was going to be built and the police car was blocking the entrance to the circular drive that led to the front door. As they came closer William and James turned toward them, leaving the crowd and walking to intercept the younger couple.
“What’s going on?” Sandra asked the men as they came within earshot of each other.
“There’s a problem on the property,” William said. “The workers found something buried where the old barn had been.”
“What kind of something?” Creighton asked with a deep frown.
“Human remains,” James answered. “And they don’t appear to be very old.”
“What do you mean?” Sandra asked; her heart in her throat as she tried to comprehend what she was hearing.
“Andrew is dealing with the police, but it looks like a homicide,” William said as they came to a halt. “I’m sorry son, but the preliminary findings indicate that the body was buried there within the past ten or twelve years.”
“How? Who?”
“We don’t know yet,” James said as they turned and began walking slowly back toward the properties together. “The police are keeping the place quarantined and forensics has been called out.”
“Since Andrew works for Scotland Yard, he’s taken the lead in the investigation, but the constable needs to ask you a few questions.” Creighton stared blankly at his father as they continued to walk forward.
“Ten to twelve years would put it after Bachmeier moved back to Germany,” he said, his mind running through a million different scenarios at once.
“That’s the preliminary report; there won’t be anything formal for a few days.”
“Unfortunately the work on the property has been put on hold until the investigation is complete,” James added.
“Andrew agreed to let the workers finish the house, since nothing has been found out of the ordinary, but the trash that has been taken out is being sent to the authorities for prints and DNA testing. They are hoping some of the older stuff the workers found will point to when or who caused this death,” William said.
“Are they sure it was that recent?” Sandra asked. “I’ve read stories about prehistoric bodies being found in peat bogs around England perfectly preserved; maybe it’s older than ten years.”
“This isn’t a peat bog, Sandra,” Creighton said gently. “And there was a barn on top of it. Even if they are wrong on the dates, it couldn’t be prehistoric.”
“It was definitely modern,” William said. “The clothing was still intact, for the most part.”
“Any idea
who she was?” Creighton asked.
“There is no official word and the next of kin needs to be notified,” William continued causing Creighton to frown again.
“But?” he urged.
“It appears to be Harry Stone’s wife, Lynette.”
“But I thought Lynette left Harry years ago?” Creighton asked watching as Andrew walked toward them, Cathy at his side
“That’s the story he shared with the community. Supposedly she found someone and fell in love and was running away with him.”
“Do you think he may have killed her when he found out she was cheating on him?” Sandra asked.
“Anything is possible,” Andrew said as he joined them, bringing the small group to a halt again, near the entrance to the driveway. “Until we have some answers, we have to put a halt to the construction. I’m sorry Crey, but until the coroner comes back with some details, I can’t allow you to move into the house.”
“Understood and we’ll cooperate in any way we need to.”
“We’re going to increase security around the property to keep the curious at bay; hopefully we’ll have things settled by the time you get back from your honeymoon.”
“Don’t worry about that, we have the flat to stay in until we can move in here. Take as much time as you need, just keep us informed.”
“I will, but right now Constable Wallace needs to ask you a few questions and then mum and Mary want to discuss the plans for the reception.”
“Do we have to cancel it?” Sandra asked, feeling slightly lightheaded at all that was happening around her.
“Not necessarily,” Cathy said diverting her eyes from Creighton as the couple turned to look at her.
“I contacted Clark,” Andrew continued. “He’s working on getting a team of security down here to guard the area. We can continue with the evening’s plans, we’ll just have to keep a close eye on the party goers to make sure they don’t disturb the area. The forensic team will need to do some digging for any evidence that may have been buried with the body so they are bringing out the dogs. They may be able to find something that might indicate what happened or get a better idea on the timeframe involved.”
“Whatever you need just do it,” Creighton insisted. “I’ll make arrangements for Clark to remain behind; he’ll be able to assist in the investigation if you need him.”
“I appreciate your cooperation Crey,” Andrew said. “And I’m sorry again. It’s a hell of a way to start your marriage.”
“This day just keeps getting better,” Sandra whispered, ignoring the look of concern her sister gave her.
“I’m sorry, my love,” Creighton told her. “I don’t know what to do to change this.”
“Just promise me that we’ll have an uneventful honeymoon?”
“I’ll do my best.”
Emma and Mary discussed changing or even canceling the reception, but Creighton insisted they continue as planned. The caterers were nearly finished setting up the tents and tables when
Sandra and Creighton returned home and the food was in the process of being prepared. Changing the plans at this late date would be more difficult than keep sightseers away from the property next door.
Rochelle arrived in the midst of the chaos as the forensic team began their investigation with the cadaver dogs. Irena was rushing from one room to another gathering makeup kits, hair brushes, curling irons and outfits, trying to help everyone get ready for the party all at once. She shouted down the stairs to Sabrina to bring up some drinks when she saw the dark skinned woman enter the house. She screamed with excitement and ran down to meet her, embracing Rochelle on the stairs and nearly knocking her back down to the landing.
Sandra and Cathy were courteous to each other, acting more like polite acquaintances rather than sisters, but it was obvious they had an unspoken mutual agreement to keep things calm. Kristen waddled around the living room as Rochelle sat up her equipment and the supplies she brought with her. Irena insisted on being first and since she was the loudest and the most anxious, nobody complained.
The teenager amazed everyone as she sat quietly for a full
hour while her hair was highlighted, trimmed and styled. Rochelle applied her makeup with an expert touch, making Irena appear much older than her sixteen years; a fact all three of her brothers were not pleased with. Next, Rochelle moved onto Sabrina, styling her hair and touching up her makeup, commenting on how well she had applied the colors on her own. Kristen managed to sit briefly while her hair was pulled into an up-do, very casual and easy to take down when the time came. Her relaxation was short lived, however, when Traci Ann soon came crying into the house, shouting for her mother after falling down the porch steps and skinning her knee.
Cathy was next to have her hair done, but Sandra knew it had nothing to do with the reception. She was certain her sister agreed simply because she wanted to tell everyone back in Kansas that a true Parisian had done her hair; wait until Cathy
found out this
Parisian
was from Oklahoma, she thought with a wicked smile as she left the room.
Rochelle applied dark blonde streaks to Cathy’s shoulder length brown strands and completely restyled her usual makeup with darker, more dramatic colors. Once her hair was dry and trimmed, she insisted on having her photo taken. Her excuse was so she could duplicate the style when she returned to the states. Truth was she would be posting it to her Facebook account as soon as she had the chance.
Sandra decided to lie down and take a nap while the others were in the living room primping. Her head ached from the events that had taken place that day and she felt more fatigued than she could ever remember. Lying once again on Creighton’s childhood bed, she pulled the comforter across her legs and drifted off to sleep. The echo of excited, cheerful voices drift up from the main floor of the house while shouts and giggles from the children playing in the yard outside floated in the open window. The soft May breeze brushed across her cheek, rustling the drapes and bringing with it the chirps of birds nesting in the tree outside. She easily drifted into a gentle, relaxed state of slumber as the world around her floated away. For the first time since leaving Creighton’s yacht; he so kindly named
The Tornado
- after his trip to Kansas, of course; she found herself completely relaxed and comfortable, free from the events happening around her.
Andrew and Creighton spent the afternoon at the house next door speaking with the constable and the investigators from Scotland Yard. Clark arrived with a dozen security men, all former military police New Hope Technologies used on occasion and all meeting both Clark and Creighton’s expectations. They were stationed outside the property, keeping the children and sightseers at bay.
A soft warm touch caressed her cheek, stirring Sandra reluctantly awake but her eyes remained closed beneath heavy lids. She wanted a few more minutes before life erupted again and she quietly began to drift back to sleep. It wasn’t until she heard Creighton speaking her name that she finally found her way back to the world of the living. Sighing heavily, she forced her eyes to open, smiling drowsily at the handsome face that stared down at her, his long fingers caressing her cheek, a seductive smile curving his lips.
“I really don’t want to wake you,” he said softly. “You look so comfortable, but Rochelle is ready for you downstairs.”