The tire tracks by themselves weren’t suspicious since someone may have driven back here to dump trash and there were so many footprints it would make things hard to figure out which, if any, belonged to the killer.
I made my way over to the open dumpster and looked over the side. As expected, it was nearly half-full of water. Assorted garbage floated on the surface while white and black plastic trash bags filled the bottom. The bin had only been slightly over the half-full mark when it began raining. I didn’t see anything suspicious at first, but then I spotted what looked like a dark raincoat near a black trash bag. I couldn’t be certain it was a raincoat without pulling it out of the bin though, so I stood on tip-toe and reached for it. My fingers just grazed it, but I wasn’t tall enough and couldn’t get a hold on it. The bin stank and flies hovered in the morning sunlight. I took a step back.
I pulled my phone from my pocket. It had been about ten minutes since I had called Cade and he said he needed to get dressed. If I knew him, he would be here any minute now. I carefully made my way back to the gate to wait.
It was less than a minute when Cade slowly drove down the alley. He parked near where I stood and got out of his car, his hair still wet from his shower, and neatly slicked back.
“This is quite a welcome to the neighborhood,” he said, giving me a quick kiss. He smelled like aftershave and toothpaste.
“One I could have done without,” I said.
“Tell me you haven’t been snooping around the crime scene.”
I looked at him. “There have been any number of people back here in the alley recently.” I forced myself not to look at my footprints in the mud.
He sighed. “I hope you didn’t contaminate the crime scene.”
“I didn’t. I simply took a look in the dumpster and at those tire tracks over there.” I pointed out the wide tire tracks.
His eyes went to my shoes, and he sighed.
Chapter Three
“Don’t sigh at me,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “It’s not like I knew there was a body under that tarp. Maggie was barking her head off and one of my new neighbors woke me up to complain. I came out to see what Maggie was barking at and it never occurred to me that there was a body out here.”
He ignored me and turned back to the tarp, squinting his eyes. “A body under the tarp,” he muttered and looked at the ground in front of the tarp. “The things you find in an alley.”
“Those are my footprints,” I said, coming to stand beside him and pointing at the tracks I had made. “Just so you know.”
“I see. You ignored what I said about contaminating the crime scene. Stay here,” he said and carefully picked his way through the mud to the tarp. Cade and I hadn’t been dating long. I had made his acquaintance when he took an interest in me on another murder case. An interest in me being a possible suspect, not a possible girlfriend.
I followed after him because I’m not very good at taking direction. “I did not contaminate the crime scene. And, it’s a man under there. At least, I’m pretty sure it is, but I didn’t pull the tarp all the way back.”
He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “You didn’t pull it all the way back? But you did pull it back some? Didn’t I tell you not to mess with the crime scene?”
“I guess I forgot,” I said, not looking him in the eye. “And besides, it’s not like I was really messing with it. I just took a little look.”
He snorted and turned back to the tarp, squatted down, and looked back up at me. “Turn away. You don’t want to see this. And go back and stand by the gate.”
I complied with him as far as turning away. “Is it someone we know?” I asked him. I heard the tarp rustle and I had to force myself not to look.
“It’s not someone I know. Older guy. Early sixties, maybe.”
I turned to look. I couldn’t help myself, it was like a reflex. “Oh. That’s Silas Mills. I think. He works at the newspaper.” I wasn’t completely sure because his skin was pasty looking. Silas had never looked very good, being extremely thin and anemic looking, but he really wasn’t looking his best right now. Without a mortician to make dead people look good, it’s a shock. At least it wasn’t Richard Price, Bob’s cousin.
“I told you not to look,” Cade said and pulled the tarp back further.
I looked away again. Something had killed Silas, and I didn’t want to see what that something was in case it was really bad. “How did he die?”
“Judging by the knife in his chest, I’d say by being stabbed. How well did you know Silas?”
“Not well. He was a fixture around town though. He covered local sports and I think I’ve occasionally seen his byline on other articles.”
Cade sighed and pulled a camera out of his coat pocket. “I need you to go back and stand by your gate, please. I hope we haven’t lost any evidence with you walking back and forth through here.”
I frowned. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know there was a body under the tarp to begin with. I tried to backtrack over my footprints when I realized what it was. And there’s a pen from the newspaper stuck in the mud over there.”
“Got it. Please go stand by the gate,” he said, laying the tarp back over Silas’s body. Cade pulled his phone from his pocket and made a phone call asking for the coroner.
I turned and headed back, leaning against the fence. He took pictures of the ground around the body, including the tire tracks, footprints, and the pen. “Do you know Silas’s next of kin?” he asked.
“I’m not sure if I do. I don’t remember hearing if he was married or not,” I said as he continued taking pictures.
“What kind of articles besides sports did he write for the newspaper?” he asked.
Cade had only lived in Sparrow for a few months and didn’t know many people yet. Sometimes it took a while to acclimate in small towns. People were friendly, but trust could be a whole different issue. Especially since he was law enforcement.
I thought back. “I think he covered the Christmas parade last December. And there was a rodeo in April. I can’t really remember anything big.”
“I can’t see how writing an article on the Christmas parade would make someone mad enough to kill him,” he said, grinning at me.
“I don’t know. Things can get volatile when Santa doesn’t throw enough candy to the kids during the parade.”
He chuckled. “I guess I can see where things might get testy in that case.”
“You have no idea. I once saw the Marston triplets and the Green twins in a throw down for the last candy cane. You should have seen those kids go at it. Then their parents jumped right in the middle of it. And Santa had no remorse for his actions. I’m pretty sure he was chuckling behind that white beard of his.”
“You gotta keep your eye on Santa,” he said and headed toward me as we heard sirens in the distance.
“Why the sirens? He’s already dead,” I said.
He shrugged. “Some people are just zealous about their jobs. What else do you know about Silas?”
I thought about it. What had I heard? I didn’t know him well, but occasionally he came into the diner. I had put an ad in the paper last month when my mother wanted to have a yard sale and he had been sitting at one of the desks. I knew him enough to say hello, but I really didn’t know him well at all.
“If I remember right, he lives, or lived, down at the Sparrow Boardinghouse.”
“Boardinghouse? Do those things even exist anymore?” he asked me.
“They do in sparrow. It’s across town and not in a very good area. It seems like a lot of older people live there, and maybe other people that don’t have family.”
“Is it like a real boardinghouse? Rooms can be rented on a week-to-week basis? And is there a woman that owns it and does she make meals where everyone eats together?”
I chuckled. “Are you sure you haven’t been there? That’s pretty much the way it’s run by Sue Hester, the woman that owns it. Although I do think she’s getting up there
in years. I have to wonder how much longer it will be around.”
“Running a boardinghouse is a lost art.”
“Do you think he was dumped here? Could he have been killed here in the alley?” I asked as a squad car pulled up, parking behind Cade’s car.
“I doubt he was killed here in the alley. The killer would have had to have just happened to have that tarp with them. And I would bet that whoever killed him had some feelings for him.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked, looking at the blue tarp.
“They were careful to tuck the tarp under his body as if to shield him from the weather. If they didn’t feel something for him, they wouldn’t have cared if he was out here in the rain.”
I nodded. “I guess that makes sense. I wonder why he’s here if he lived across town,” I said.
“That’s a good question. One we’ll have to try to figure out,” he said and turned to the officer that approached us and began filling him in on what he knew so far.
The two of them stepped away from me to go over the details. I wondered how Silas Mills had ended up dead in the alley behind my house and I hoped what Cade said was true. If the killer cared for Silas that meant it was personal and they probably wouldn’t be out killing random people. In the meantime, I was going to make sure all the locks on my windows and doors were in working order.
Chapter Four
“I brought you a housewarming gift!” my mother said excitedly. She stood on my front porch and in her arms was a two-feet tall ficus tree with a big pink ribbon tied around the white faux marble pot it was in. Stormy was standing behind her with a gift bag in her hand.
“Wow, that’s so sweet of you, Mom,” I said and stepped aside for her and Stormy to enter.
“You need something to brighten the room and a plant always does that,” she said, looking around at the cardboard boxes on the floor in the living room. “What have you been doing all day? Why isn’t the furniture arranged, and the boxes unpacked?”
“How are you doing, Stormy?” I asked, ignoring my mother. Stormy had sad eyes as she handed me the gift bag. I knew her oldest daughter’s departure was the cause of her sadness. She had been struggling for months with the fact that it was going to happen, and now it had.
“I’m fine. I got you a little something for the kitchen,” she said and looked around. “We can help you unpack if you want.”
“I don’t want to unpack, I’ve worked all day. What’s for dinner?” Mom asked, heading to the kitchen doorway.
“Bad news. I’ve been kind of preoccupied today and didn’t have time to go shopping for food. We’ll order pizza.”
“What? Seriously?” Mom asked, turning back to me. “I was looking forward to a meal cooked and served by my daughter, the famous cookbook author.”
“Well, your not-so-famous daughter was otherwise tied up today. That’s why everything’s all over the house,” I said, sitting on the loveseat in the middle of the room. I opened the gift bag Stormy had brought. “Oh, how cool!” I exclaimed as I pulled out a cute ceramic measuring cup set in the shape of a Bluetick hound dog’s head. “Where did you find these?”
“It was a search, let me tell you, but the Internet never lets me down,” she said, smiling. “I’m sure you have more than your fair share of measuring cups, but I couldn’t resist.”
“I can always use measuring cups and these are darling. Thank you! And thank you, Mom, for the ficus tree. You’re right, it will brighten things up.”
“A proper thank you would be a home-cooked dinner,” Mom groused, sitting on an over-stuffed chair sitting off to the side of the room.
I ignored her. Mom wasn’t being cranky, that was just how she was.
“Stormy, how is Natalie doing at college?” I asked as I took the measuring cups into the kitchen and then returned to the loveseat.
She shrugged. “I guess she’s doing okay. She’s homesick. I told her she could transfer back to Idaho State next semester.”
“I bet she’ll adjust. Natalie is a resourceful girl,” I assured her.
“She’s only seventeen,” Stormy said with a whine in her voice. Stormy had been a child bride and a child mother, barely turning eighteen two months before Natalie was born. I thought she was crazy at the time, but she and Bob had been happily married ever since.
“She’ll be eighteen in less than three months. She’s mature and ready for this. And even though you don’t feel like it, so are you. The ready part, I mean.”
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she nodded.
“Speaking of birthdays, the two of you have one coming up in a couple of weeks. Do either of you want anything special?” Mom asked.
“I want Natalie home,” Stormy whimpered.
“You’re not getting it. She’s grown up now. What else do you want?” Mom said.
“You’ve done enough for me by helping me buy this house,” I told her. “You don’t need to get me anything else.”
“Well, I’m starving. Let’s order pizza. We can help unpack while we wait for it to be delivered,” Mom said, getting to her feet.
“You got it,” I said and pulled out my phone and placed the order.
“So what had you tied up all day?” Mom asked as she took a box labeled ‘kitchen’ into the kitchen to unpack.
Stormy and I picked up boxes that belonged in the kitchen and followed after her. “Silas Mills was killed and someone dumped his body in my alley.”
“What?” Mom and Stormy said together.
I nodded, putting the box on the old table that had been discarded by one of Mom’s neighbors. It was a little rickety and scuffed, but it would work for now. “Yeah. Maggie was barking her head off this morning, and a neighbor came to complain. Silas was out under a tarp in the alley.” I filled them in on what little I knew so far. Cade had spent the better part of the day out there until the coroner came and picked up the body.
“How sad,” Stormy said. “And you never heard a thing?”
“Not until my neighbor pounded on the door and woke me up. I was tired after moving yesterday, and I guess I was sleeping pretty hard.”
“Sad indeed. Old Silas was at the newspaper for forever. I doubt he ever had any other job,” Mom said as she unpacked a set of mixing bowls.
“Do you remember what kind of articles he wrote for the paper? I know he covered local sports at the schools, but I think I’ve seen other articles with his byline,” I said and cut through the tape holding my box closed with a kitchen knife.
“I think it was whatever needed writing,” Mom said. “Oh, I do remember he wrote an article a few years back when Charlie Rhoades was running for city council. There was a big stink over it. Silas said Charlie Rhoades had spent time in jail years ago and wouldn’t make a good city councilman.”
“Really? So did he lose the election?” I asked.
She clucked her tongue. “Sure did. But the stink was mostly about the fact that Charlie Rhoades is Silas’s cousin and the article caused a big rift in the family.”
“Well that took some guts to write an expose’ article on your own cousin,” I said. It would also be a motive for murder, I thought.
“Makes you wonder if Charlie had anything to do with Silas’s murder,” Stormy said, reading my mind.
“Doesn’t it though?” Mom said. “To make matters worse, last year Charlie moved into the boardinghouse where Silas lives.”
“That’s kind of crazy,” I said. “I mean, he had to have known Silas was already living there. He’s been there for years, hasn’t he?”
“As long as I can remember,” Mom said. “I can imagine those two living under the same roof. Things had to have been tense.”
“Was Silas married?” I asked.
“No, he wasn’t. I don’t know if he ever did get married,” Mom said.
“I think he was dating Karen Forrest. She works at the newspaper, too,” Stormy added, coming over to help me unload the box I had on the table.
“What does she do th
ere?” I asked. Karen lived two doors down from my mother and she would occasionally stop by to drop off a casserole or something she had made. I hadn’t realized she was dating Silas.
“I think she writes lifestyle articles. Not that they publish much of those. Maybe she does something else, too,” Mom said.
“Seems like they dated a long time,” Stormy added.
“I think it has been a long time. Poor thing. She’ll be destroyed over this,” Mom said. “You should make her a cake and take it over. And make your mother one, too. I haven’t had any of your cooking in forever.”
I eyed her. “Mom, I made dinner for you two nights ago,” I pointed out. “But I think making Karen a cake is a great idea. I feel bad that she lost someone she cared for.” As soon as I said it, I remembered what Cade had said about the killer most likely being someone that cared about Silas. I needed to find out how much she did care.
“I like cake,” Stormy said with a grin.
“So, I need to make three cakes?” I asked, pulling out the dishes from the box I was working on. “I need to wash all these dishes, they’ve been in storage for a while.” I had lived with my mother ever since I moved back to Sparrow after my divorce, and nearly everything I owned had been in storage.
“You need a dishwasher,” Mom said. “And you can make my cake smaller. Now that you’ve abandoned me, I’m all alone and I don’t need a big cake.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “If you hadn’t helped me out with the house, I wouldn’t have abandoned you.”
“I need a big cake,” Stormy said. “Five kids. Oh. No. Four kids.” There was sadness in her voice when she said the last part.
I looked at her as tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them back. “The holidays will be here before you know it and Natalie will be back for a visit. It will go fast. I promise.”
“But what if she decides she wants to stay in California for the holidays?” she whined.
Birthday Cake and a Murder Page 2
