"Murder of a Sweet Old Lady" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swanson Denise)

CHAPTER 2

Hub-a-Dub-Dub, Two Men, That’s the Rub

Bingo stood at the open bedroom door, tail and ears flattened, fur ruffled. The sound of his mournful yowls finally penetrated Skye’s prayers.

She rose unsteadily and picked up the cat. “What do I do now, Bingo? Everything feels like it’s out of control. I can’t think.”

The cat twitched his ears and nudged Skye’s chin with his head.

“I need to call someone. Who? The emergency squad? Father Burns?”

Wiggling out of her arms, Bingo landed on his feet and ran from the room.

Skye followed him into the kitchen. She couldn’t call for the police or the ambulance. Skye’s mother, May, worked for the Scumble River Police Department as a dispatcher. She also handled the phones for the fire and emergency departments. Her mom might be working. It wouldn’t be right to have her find out that way.

The cat jumped onto the counter and peered out the window over the sink.

“I should call Father Burns.”

Bingo put his paws on the sill and pressed his nose to the window.

“Maybe I could call Simon. He would know what to do. After all, what’s the use in dating a guy who’s the coroner and owns the funeral home if he can’t take over in a situation like this?”

But instead of picking up the receiver, Skye sat on one of the chairs drawn up to the table. She listened to the roar of the window air conditioner, studied the smell of long-ago cooked meals, and talked to God.

Skye looked at the phone. She hated to make the call, knowing that by doing so she was admitting her grandmother was dead. Sighing, she picked up the handset and punched in the number.

He answered on the first ring. “Reid’s Funeral Home. May I help you?”

“Simon? It’s Skye.”

“What a pleasant surprise. You don’t usually call me at work.” The warmth in his voice washed over her.

“I, ah, don’t like to bother you there, but I need your help.”

“Sure, what’s wrong?” His tone changed to one of concern.

“I’m at my Grandma Leofanti’s and…” Skye took a deep breath and forced back tears. “She’s dead.”

“I’m so sorry. Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

“Have you called anyone else?”

“No.” Skye swallowed. “The thing is I’m not sure, I mean it could be a natural death, but, ah, Mrs. J is missing.”

“Sit tight. I’ll be right there.”

The click of the phone being hung up made Skye feel cut off from the rest of the world. Her gaze wandered over the kitchen and she noticed Bingo’s dish was empty. She searched the cupboards, but couldn’t find the cat food. Then she remembered. Grandma believed freshly prepared chicken and fish were better for the feline’s health and kept only a few emergency cans of food in the pantry.

Finally she located the Friskies on a back shelf and emptied the contents of the can into Bingo’s bowl. Skye took the cat from the counter and set him in front of his dish. He sniffed suspiciously, but eventually gave the food a nibble.

Gnawing on her lip, she thought. I hope that wasn’t a “girl” thing to do, turning everything over to Simon to solve my problems.

The sound of tires crunching over gravel captured Skye’s attention, and her glance flew to the window Bingo had been guarding. The garage door was ajar. She was sure it had been closed when she pulled in. Why would anyone go in there? She was driving Grandma’s car and there wasn’t anything else in there but junk.

Maybe it was someone from that survivalist camp a couple of miles down the road. Their property shared a fence with the Leofanti’s back forty and all spring Antonia had complained about them trespassing and hunting on her land.

Skye grabbed a flashlight from a drawer on her way out. She crossed the grassy area between the house and garage at a good clip, but slowed as she neared the door. This was really idiotic. When she read about some heroine doing this in a book, she always called her stupid.

The door swung fully open at her touch. The overhead fixture didn’t come on when she flipped the switch so she thumbed on the flashlight. Staying on the threshold, Skye swept the small interior with the beam. Everything seemed to be the way she remembered it from last September when she’d backed out her Grandma’s old green Buick.

The garage was just big enough for one car, a few boxes, and a couple pieces of discarded furniture. There was no place for anyone to hide and nothing looked disturbed.

Shrugging, Skye backed away and closed the door, making sure it was firmly latched. She circled the house and sat on the front steps. Within seconds Bingo stood at the screen door and yowled until she let him join her.

Questions were starting to intrude upon her grief when she heard the first siren. She stood up for a better look, disturbing Bingo, who had been twining between her ankles. He meowed sharply and disappeared under the porch.

A procession of official vehicles led by a Scumble River police cruiser, followed by an ambulance, with the Reid Funeral Home hearse bringing up the rear, roared down the gravel road.

A man leapt out of the cruiser and another out of the hearse. Both raced toward Skye. Walter Boyd, the chief of police, got there first and put his arm around her shoulder. He was a handsome man in his late thirties whose warm brown eyes held a look of concern. Running his other hand through his thick black curls, he hugged her wordlessly. His hair was just beginning to show threads of gray, but both his tan and muscular build declared him to be a man of action.

While the two paramedics plunged indoors, Simon stopped at Skye’s other side and took her free hand, narrowing his eyes at the chief. In appearance, Simon was the antithesis of Chief Boyd, tall and lean, with elegant auburn hair and golden-hazel eyes.

The chief spoke first. “Your mom wasn’t on duty, so I sent Officer Quirk to find her.”

Skye nodded. “Thanks, Wally.”

It had taken her a year to feel comfortable calling him by his first name. When Wally had first come to Scumble River as a twenty-three-year-old patrolman, Skye, then a teen, had been convinced she was in love with him. She’d followed him around, turning up wherever he took a break or stopped for a meal. He was always a perfect gentleman, never mocking her or taking advantage of the situation. Nevertheless, when she first returned to town she was embarrassed to remember how lovesick she had acted, and she had found it difficult to look him in the eye, let alone call him anything but Chief Boyd.

“I called Vince when no one answered at your folks’,” Simon added, squeezing her hand.

Vince, her brother, owned and operated a hair styling salon called Great Expectations. He was usually the easiest one in the family to locate because he worked there fourteen hours a day.

“Thanks. I’m a wreck. I keep thinking about the stu pidest things.”

Before Skye could elaborate, one of the paramedics poked his head out the door and called for Simon. He kissed her cheek and hurried inside.

Well, that settles it. Grandma is really dead. They don’t call for the coroner otherwise. This thought brought a fresh bout of tears.

Wally held her while she cried on his shoulder. When Skye felt herself melting in his embrace, she made herself stop sobbing and pulled away, reminding herself for perhaps the hundredth time that he was a married man and she was dating Simon.

Using the handkerchief Wally provided, she wiped her face and blew her nose.

“So what ‘stupid things’ are you thinking about?” Wally asked after she had collected herself.

“Where’s the housekeeper?” Skye blurted. “Why were the covers pulled up over Grandma’s face? What was Bingo doing outside? The doctor just said she was fine. Why is she dead?”

Wally patted her shoulder. “Now, Skye honey, there could be lots of reasons for those things. The housekeeper’s a foreigner, right?” Skye nodded. “Well, she could’ve gotten scared when your grandmother died and called for someone to pick her up. The cat probably got out when she left. And she, no doubt out of respect, covered your grandma’s face.”

Wally’s answers made sense, but Skye still felt troubled. Something just didn’t add up.

After a few minutes, Skye sighed and made a move to stand up. “I’ve got to call my aunts and uncle. She’s their mother too.”

“Sure, but why don’t you give Quirk a little while longer to find May so you can tell her first? Isn’t she the oldest?” Wally kept hold of her hand.

“The oldest of the three girls, but my Uncle Dante is the oldest. He’s sixty.”

Before she could break away from Wally, the paramedics poured from the house, yelling, “Gotta go. Another call,” as they rushed by. They piled into the ambulance and squealed out of the driveway, sounding the siren.

They almost crashed into an old Cadillac that came barreling into the drive, throwing up gravel and blowing its horn. It shuddered to a stop and the door was flung open. The six-foot-tall, three-hundred-pound man who emerged from the front seat charged over to Skye.

He grabbed her in a bear hug, lifting her off the ground. “Baby, are you okay? I heard the call about your grandma on my scanner. Sorry it took me so long. I had someone checking in at the motel and I had to get them settled.”

“I’m fine, Uncle Charlie. Everything is under control.” Skye managed a tremulous smile.

Charlie Patukas was actually her godfather, not her uncle, but he was closer to her family than most of their blood relations. Charlie owned the Up a Lazy River Motor Court, and had a hand in most of the town’s business. He had always been protective of Skye and Vince, but since she’d moved back to town last fall and gotten involved in solving a murder, his concern had often led him into the realm of paranoia.

The chief watched them for a moment, then shrugged. “I’ll go take a look at the housekeeper’s room.”

Skye related to Charlie the events leading up to her call to Simon, then spent the rest of the time in silence.

Quite a while later Simon joined them on the front steps. He spoke softly. “I’ve done what had to be done before we could move her.”

Simon stepped back inside to talk to Wally, but Skye could hear their conversation. Simon’s voice was low, but clear. “Since she died unattended, we’ll have to keep her until we can determine the cause of death.”

Wally’s deeper tone was a little harder to discern. “Fine, I’ll call Doc Zello and have him meet you at the funeral home. He recognizes death by old age when he sees it.”

Skye frowned. Wally was still treating her like she was fifteen and dismissing her concerns.

Simon had already left with her grandmother’s body when May’s white Oldsmobile careened into the driveway. The chief was looking around inside the house and Charlie was with him, supervising.

May flung the door open and ran to Skye. “Are you okay, honey?”

Skye saw the tears running down her mother’s cheeks. “I’m fine. How about you?”

“It’s such a shock. Doc Zello saw her just a few days ago, and said she was in excellent health.” May sat down on the front porch beside Skye.

May was only five feet two, with short salt-and-pepper hair and eyes the same green as her daughter’s. Skye got her height from the Denison side of the family.

“I was out back planting flowers when Quirk came over. Thought for a minute they needed me at work.” May dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “Vince will be here in a little bit. He’s looking for Dad in the field.”

“How about Aunt Mona, Aunt Minnie, and Uncle Dante?” Skye asked.

“I tried all their houses before I left. No answer anywhere.” May shook her head. “Hope we can find them before the grapevine does.”

That was odd. None of the women worked outside their homes. It was a Monday and almost five, supper time for most farm families. They all should be in their kitchens cooking. Where could they be?

Skye was sitting on the sofa talking softly to May and Charlie when her brother, Vince, arrived. He was an extremely handsome man of thirty-five. Although Vince had the Leofanti green eyes, his hair was a rich butterscotch blond. They never could figure out to what ancestor he owed its color.

After greeting everyone, Vince took a seat next to his mother and patted her hand. “Dad’s on his way.”

“Thanks, hon.”

A few minutes later, Skye’s father entered the room. He snatched a John Deere cap off his head, revealing a steel-gray crew cut and faded brown eyes. His tanned face crinkled like a leather handbag when he frowned.

Jed nodded to everybody and lowered himself into a side chair. “I’m sorry, May. Antonia was a good woman.”

They all agreed, and then sat silently, Skye getting up to let Bingo back in when he meowed at the door.

Chief Boyd coughed politely, standing at the archway between the dining and living rooms. When they became aware of his presence, he entered.

As soon as he was settled on the edge of an overstuffed chair the chief spoke. “Looks like that housekeeper of yours hightailed it out of here. The closet and drawers in her room are empty, and there’s no sign of any personal possessions. Do you have a way to reach her?”

“The only thing we have is the number of the agency we hired her through. We send our check to them, and they pay her from that,” May said.

“Well, I’ll need that address and number as soon as possible.” Wally shifted in his chair.

“I’ll get it to you first thing tomorrow.” May turned to Jed. “Don’t let me forget.”

Jed mumbled something that seemed to satisfy May.

The chief made a motion as if to get up, but May asked, “Why did Simon take her away before we got here?”

He looked down at his immaculately polished shoes and reached down to rub out an imaginary scuff mark. “Well, if a person dies alone, not in a hospital or with a doctor attending, then it’s considered suspicious until we get someone to sign off on the cause of death.” He stopped, obviously choosing his next words carefully. “So Simon had to take certain precautions in case things were ever needed for evidence.”

“I see. I guess I knew that from work.” May’s face screwed up, but she didn’t cry. “When can we make the arrangements?”

“Real soon, I expect. Doc Zello is good about taking care of things like this.” The chief stood and edged toward the door. “I’m going to get going now, unless I can do something for you folks.” He looked at May. “I’m sorry for your loss. Take as much time off work as you need.”

May nodded her thanks.

Skye finally remembered to call Father Burns. After that, she and her mother took turns on the phone trying to reach May’s sisters and brother.

Vince was sent to check the various fields that the different families owned, rented, and/or farmed; Jed went back to their place to take care of the equipment; and Charlie finally agreed to go home.

It was nearly seven and they had still failed to get in touch with any of the siblings. Skye and May sat at the kitchen table drinking from cans of soda. There was an untouched plate of saltine crackers and cheese in front of them.

May subtly nudged the food nearer to Skye. “Where in the heck could everyone be? I know the guys are probably staying late in the fields. Those heavy spring rains really put everyone’s planting behind schedule. But Minnie, Mona, and Olive should be home.”

Skye absentmindedly took a wedge of cheddar. “Should we try their kids’ numbers?”

“Soon, but I wanted to tell my sisters and brother about Mom before we told their kids.” May took a cracker but didn’t put it in her mouth. “When Vince gets back, we’ll have him take a ride by the cousins’ houses and see if their parents’ cars or trucks are there.”

“I could do that right now.” Skye put the cheese down.

Minnie’s twin daughters, Ginger and Gillian, lived next door to each other in town. Dante’s son, Hugo, lived in Clay Center, only fifteen minutes away.

“No, honey, stay with me. Okay?” May squeezed Skye’s knee.

“Sure, Mom. As long as you want.”

Vince got back about an hour later. Some of the farmland was as far away as Streator. He flung himself into a chair and grabbed a piece of cheese. “I found Uncle Emmett. He was over near Gardner. Says Aunt Minnie is at Carle Clinic and he’ll call her.”

May paled. “What’s wrong with Minnie? Why’d she go all the way down to the hospital in Urbana by herself?”

Vince shrugged and took a cracker, which he carefully layered with Swiss. “Uncle Emmett didn’t say. I was in a hurry to find the others so I didn’t stick around and ask. Sorry.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart. You did a good job. Did you find anyone else?” May got up and took the bread from its box.

“Nope. No one was at home or in any of their fields.”

May put out sliced roast beef and chips. “I’m going to call Hugo. Maybe he knows where his parents are. I don’t know what to do about Mona and Neal, since they don’t have any children.” She nodded toward the food on the table. “Make yourself a sandwich, kids. This is stacking up to be a long night.”

About eight-thirty Jed returned and sat down at the table. May immediately filled a plate for him and he started to eat without a word. Lines of exhaustion creased his forehead and radiated from his eyes. During spring planting, farmers often worked from dawn until they could no longer see by using their tractor’s lights.

She spoke while he chewed. “Minnie’s down at Carle Clinic. God knows why. I sure hope she doesn’t have one of her spells when we tell her about Mom.” She paused to put more food on Jed’s dish. “Emmett and the twins should be here soon. Hugo says his parents left for an auction about five, and were going to stop for dinner afterward. Still nothing on Mona and Neal.”

Jed nodded.

May sat back down and buried her head in her arms. “I can’t stand it. Mom’s dead, Minnie’s sick with who-knows-what, and Mona’s missing. What’s going on?”

Skye patted her mom’s hand. “Maybe Minnie is finally getting some help for those spells she gets.” For a long time Skye had thought Minnie’s spells were probably a form of a depressive disorder such as dysthymia. Not that the family had listened to her gentle hints that Minnie should see a psychiatrist for an evaluation.

“How about Mona and Dante?”

Skye rubbed May’s back. “I’m sure they’re all fine.”

Hearing her own words, she frowned. Where have I heard that before?