It took a half hour before the storm downsized to a drizzle. Bun hopped back and forth along the porch, drawing a little closer to the far end each time. I watched until he stopped at the end of the porch. Still and silent, as though frozen, Bun didn’t flick an ear or twitch a whisker. His focus lay beyond the porch.
“Bun. . . ”
Suddenly energized, he flipped over backward and raced toward me. “Th—there’s something on the ground,” he repeated over and over as he flew through the air and finally landed in my outstretched arms.
“What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Chapter 10
“N—not a ghost, it’s a human in a rabbit costume. Jules, I think he’s dead.” Bun shivered and wiggled closer as if he’d climb inside my body, if he could. Any place to hide was a good place, I guess.
I walked to the end of the porch, peered a short distance beyond the railing, and realized what Bun had seen. Chills crawled up my spine and I began to tremble just like Bun.
My cell phone had become tangled up in the baggie I always carried for cleaning up rabbit turds as I pulled it from my pocket. Bone dry, the phone worked, and I called the police department’s nonemergency number.
“I’d like to speak with Sheriff Carver. Tell him Juliette Bridge is on the line.”
“Certainly, please hold.”
It seemed like forever, but was only a minute or so, before I heard Jack say, “You haven’t figured out who our best suspect is, have you? I have the coroner’s report. Della was poisoned, and now this is a real murder investigation—”
“Jack, stop talking. I’m at the lodge on Lake Plantain. It appears there’s a dead body here. Come as quickly as you can.” I ended the call and paced the porch. I wasn’t sure if I shook from our find or from the wet clothes that clung to my body. The air had grown cold, as usual in New Hampshire’s springtime, especially late in the afternoon.
It wasn’t long before sirens sounded in the distance, blaring as they drew closer. I made a mad dash to the body, Bun at my heels, and leaned down to look closely at the crime scene. Blood had soaked the white fur of the rabbit costume head, which was in disarray. The rabbit’s head hung at an odd angle as though unattached from the costume. I peered at the skin that showed but didn’t touch a thing. I couldn’t tell how the body had arrived at this location. With rain-soaked grounds and droplets from the trees, signs weren’t visible. I backed up, tripped over Bun, and hit the ground hard.
“You had to take a look, didn’t you, Juliette?” Adam remarked.
I turned, jumped off the wet ground, wiped my hands on my soaked, muddy jeans, and plucked Bun up into my arms. “Y—yeah, I—I guess. I wanted to see if maybe I was mistaken and if he was just unconscious.”
“And how did that work for you? There’s enough blood on that costume head to conclude this person is indeed dead. Now, come away from there and go to the porch. You’re interfering with this crime scene and have probably compromised evidence.”
Unwilling to admit he was right, my chin lifted in defiance and I said, “I assure you, I didn’t touch anything and neither did Bun. We were only looking and didn’t trample the scene.” With a sniff, I marched past Adam. I climbed the steps and sat on the porch in the same place as before. Only this time, I shivered uncontrollably.
“I guess you aren’t taking any guff.”
I held him close and watched Adam climb the stairs, a blanket in his hand. “I keep one of these in my cruiser. Wrap up yourself and Bun so you’ll be warm.”
Thankful for his kindness, I put Bun aside and stood up to wrap the blanket around my body. Before I crushed it to my chest, I sat down and motioned for Bun to climb inside. He was as wet and cold as me.
From our spot, we could watch the comings and goings of the crews that arrived. The sheriff drew to a stop beside Adam’s cruiser, and a team of rescue workers parked as close to the scene as they could get. The ambulance, a fair-sized vehicle, took up a lot of space. Two other police cars filled the remaining open area and began to cordon off the grounds with yellow tape.
All too familiar with the routine, my attention turned to Jack Carver, who intently listened to what Adam softly murmured. I couldn’t hear what he said, but figured it wasn’t good when Jack stared up at me. I pointed to the grounds at the far end of the porch and walked along it, keeping up with Jack until he made his way to the body.
From this height, Bun and I could see all that went on. Jack checked out the rabbit head, then removed it to see who was inside the costume. My breath caught in my throat when Jack stepped aside. I recognized Frank Poland’s face. Why on earth was he dead? Why was he dressed in the costume? How did he get here and who had committed this crime?
Stunned by rank death, questions sped through my head like a freight train out of control. Two murders within a few days would add pressure to Jack and his officers. It would complicate my end of things, too. Jack would worry that I’d come to harm if I got close to the killer. He might be right, but it had never stopped Bun and me from doing our best to solve a crime.
I backed up, went to the other end of the porch, and took several deep breaths.
“You okay?”
“Mm, you?”
“He was the last person I would have thought to dress up as a rabbit.”
Footsteps sounded on the wooden floorboards of the porch. I glanced over my shoulder at Adam.
“Come with me, Juliette. I’ll give you a ride home. The sheriff will stop by to see you after he clears the scene. The coroner is on his way.”
When I didn’t immediately move, he stepped closer to us and put his hand on my shoulder.
“You need to go home and change out of those wet clothes. Come on,” Adam urged gently.
He was right, of course. It seemed he thought I was in shock and not thinking clearly. Instead, I tried to imagine why someone would kill a nice person like Frank.
I settled into the passenger seat of Adam’s car and remained silent on our way to the farm. The dashboard clock caught my eye. It was later than I thought and the rabbits needed tending. I must have said so because Adam glanced at me.
“They’ll be fine. Don’t worry about them.”
“I don’t like to break their timetable for feeding and such. Rabbits need to be on a regular schedule.”
At the farm, Adam escorted us into the house. “You get changed, then tell me how I can help you with your animals.” He pointed toward the stairs. “Dry clothes first.”
With a nod, I put Bun on the floor and scooted upstairs. It didn’t take long before I returned to the kitchen dressed in clean, dry clothes, my hair toweled dry, and a different pair of shoes and socks on my feet. The smell of fresh perked coffee permeated the room.
“I took the liberty of making coffee. I hope you don’t mind.” He handed me a steaming cup of brew and sipped his own.
After a few sips, I warmed up from the inside out. Saying I was grateful, I beckoned Adam into the barn and pointed to the fridge. “Containers of fruit and veggies are on the shelf.
Take them out and set them on that table, okay?”
He nodded and got busy while I brought over bunches of alfalfa hay. “We need to make some pods of food to leave in the cages. Any empty feeding trays get grain pellets, too. You take a walk around and see how many rabbits need pellets. I’ll make the pods.”
Within a half hour, we put the last of the pods in place for the bunnies to enjoy. I made certain to refresh feeders and water containers before I called the job done. That was when Sheriff Carver arrived.
“You two done farming?” Jack asked when he entered the barn.
I glanced at him and asked, “How did it go after we left?”
“The coroner took the body. He said I’ll have a report in a day or two, but his preliminary inspection of the man was that he died of a blow to the head.”
“What with?”
“He won’t know until he does the autopsy. You know the dead man, do
n’t you?”
“Yes. His name is Frank Poland. You questioned him at the hop event.”
“I remember. Know Frank well, did you?”
“No, he volunteered like the rest of us. I didn’t know any of the students or Denton Clarke until we met that day. Why do you ask?”
Ignoring my question, Jack asked, “What do you think he was doing at the lodge, especially dressed in that costume?”
I leaned against the huge sink and considered my answer. “I think Frank was dumped there.”
“Be careful what you say.”
I glanced down at Bun and continued. “Furthermore, I saw a costumed rabbit leaving the location where I found Della. At first, I thought I imagined things, then the rabbit looked back, before rushing away. I couldn’t believe my eyes.”
“You were going to tell me this exactly when?”
“I just did, and don’t lecture me. You wouldn’t have taken me seriously, Jack. We both know it, so let’s move on.”
“Perhaps Frank Poland was that same rabbit. But why kill him and leave his body at the lodge?” Sheriff Carver seemed stymied and stood there, shaking his head.
“Were there signs he was dumped there?” I asked.
“The rain washed away any footsteps or drag marks.” Jack turned to Adam. “Tomorrow, I want that location combed for any bits and bobs you can find. I don’t care how insignificant they may seem. Take a few officers with you.”
“Yessir. I’ll arrange that now.”
Jack nodded as Adam left.
“There’s hot coffee in the house if you want a cup,” I offered.
“That would be great. I have a long night ahead of me.”
In the kitchen, his elbows propped on the tabletop, Jack rubbed his eyes and then drank the coffee I’d set in front of him.
“If you’re hungry, I can make a sandwich for you.”
“Nah, the coffee is fine. Meredith dropped supper off at the station earlier. Thanks, though.”
“I’m confused over why Frank would dress up like that. If he wasn’t killed there but dumped instead, maybe the killer thought no one would find him for a while. How long do you think he’s been at the lodge?”
“The coroner said it couldn’t have been long, but with the rain, he wasn’t certain. We’ll know more when the postmortem is finished. Why does his being there bother you so much?”
“It’s an unusual place to leave a body. People do go there, Jack. The old folks would have been shocked to see that sight. You must have the key to the gate because it was locked when Bun and I were running for cover. I had to climb over. Since the gate was locked, was Frank brought in on somebody’s shoulders or by boat?”
“By boat would be the easiest, though not everyone has access to them or is aware of the boat ramp, either. Would you contact Mora Lindsey and fish around for information on who uses the ramp, or even knows it’s there? She’s more likely to talk freely to you than she would to me.”
With a shrug, I said I would. “Mora knows what goes on in town. I think it’s due to seeing so many residents’ family members. They fill her in on all the gossip.”
“That could come in handy for us. Gossip starts with a grain of truth, becomes warped in each telling, but the initial kernel remains. Our job is to sort through it all and dig it out.”
Jack swallowed the last of the coffee, pushed his chair back under the table, and left.
I grabbed a notepad and pen from the desk to jot down events of the day and write a list of questions.
At my ankles, Bun asked, “So, whatcha think of Frank’s murder?”
Flipping the pencil between my fingers, I thought about it for a moment. “I think something’s going on at the college. Nobody’s talking about it, and the dean needs to realize that when students or staff break the law, it’s not okay to hide it from the police. I’m concerned for Molly’s safety, now, more than ever. Who would want to kill Frank and why? He seemed like a good person to me. What was your opinion of him?”
“He was sharp as the blade of a knife—not one to miss much. I don’t think he and Rob got on very well. I remember when you were waiting for kids to return with their eggs, Frank asked who’d been questioned by the sheriff. Rob didn’t say a word until you asked him directly. I saw the look on Frank’s face. He seemed pleased that you pressed Rob for an answer.”
“We should find out what happened between them that didn’t sit well. Rob’s a prickly kind of guy, one with layers so you can’t get to the real person.” I turned to the notes I’d made and added a few questions about Frank and then a few more concerning Rob. I yawned, slapped the pen on the pad, and foraged in the fridge for a snack.
“Do you plan to check the other rabbits again?”
“Yes, why?”
“Just wondering. I want to exercise in the run for a bit.”
“Sure, let’s go.”
While Bun ran the length of the indoor rabbit tunnel, I walked the aisles, spoke to the rabbits, scratched some noses, and stopped in front of Petra’s hutch. The kits were moving around a bit to find the right spot to get a drink from Petra. She stood patiently, waiting for them to fill their tummies with her milk. I spoke softly to her and watched her care for the little babes.
Bun suddenly announced, “I’m ready to get out of here.”
I turned the latch and opened the door for him to gain his freedom. Shortly after, he turned in for the evening. The TV on, I tossed an afghan across my body for warmth. I must have dozed off and suddenly awakened to the sound of the phone ringing. Tangled up in the afghan, I tripped and landed hard when I hit the floor. The phone ceased ringing for a few seconds, then began again. This time, I managed to make my way without a mishap.
“Hello?”
“Jules? Uh, Juliette Bridge?”
I didn’t recognize the voice but was curious over who would call this late at night. I glanced at the wall clock as it clicked to one o’clock. “Yes, who’s this?”
“Alvin Peterson, from Windermere’s events council.”
“What can I do for you, Alvin?” Geesh, the guy was old—didn’t he sleep at night?
“Something has been bothering me about Della’s death. I thought if I told you that you could let Sheriff Carver know without mentioning my name. It seems a killer is targeting people associated with our function, and while I’m no spring chicken, I’d like to live longer if I can. You understand, don’t you?”
I rolled my eyes, wondered why I got all the weirdos, and said, “I certainly do, but if you have information that’s important to the sheriff’s investigation, you should tell him.”
“It worries me that what I know could reflect poorly on the council, since our efforts to involve Windermere’s residents in our functions is at stake. Bad publicity over what happened before and during the egg hunt might deter people from participation in future programs.”
“It could do that, but look at it this way, if you don’t let Sheriff Carver in on what you know, then those responsible for their dreadful actions won’t be brought to justice.”
“I—I can’t tell him. Please, Juliette, please pass on the information for me?”
I held back a sigh, ruffled my hair with one hand, and finally said, “I won’t promise not to tell Jack where I got the information, but I will try to keep you and the council out of it. That’s the best I can offer.”
“Uh, okay. I think Frank Poland killed Della.”
“You think, or you know he did?” Thinking and knowing are two different things.
“I’m sure. Otherwise, why would Frank have been killed?”
“Maybe for a reason that had nothing to do with your event? Was he dressed as a rabbit before it ever took place? Like on the day Della was killed? I ask because he worked at our station during the event.”
“All day?”
“Well, I didn’t keep watch over him, if that’s what you’re asking. I just saw him at various times, is all.”
“Oh, then he could have been the
one. He came around the day Della died to try on the rabbit costume. He insisted it might not fit because he was so tall. I didn’t think much of it, but gave him a costume that might be his size and sent him on his way. An hour or two later, he returned it to me. When I asked what had taken so long, he shrugged and said he took a walk to see how hot it would be when dressed in it. It wasn’t long after that when the police arrived to report Della’s death.”
“I see. What else do you have to tell me?”
“Um. . . uh, that the costume is missing.”
I plunked down in a chair, rubbed my eyes and face with one hand, and gripped the phone with the other. “Okay, I’ll let the sheriff know. As I said, I can’t promise to keep you out of it.”
“I know you’ll do your best.” The line went dead.
I set the phone in the charger and mumbled, “Yeah, right.”
With the hope of no further calls, I stumbled upstairs, flopped onto the bed, and fell asleep in my clothes. I didn’t awaken until I heard Bun say, “You’d better get up. Sheriff Carver and Adam are at the door.”
Good grief.
Chapter 11
I scooted down the stairs, unlocked the door, and left the two men to enter while I made coffee. Jessica came rushing in, a look of worry in her eyes. From the grim expressions on the men’s faces, I could only guess this was a bearer of bad news mission.
Jessica motioned to the table, then took coffee mugs from the cupboard and put one at each setting, and added the sugar bowl to the center of the table. I brought the coffeepot and milk.
Once Jess and I were seated, we waited for Jack to begin. Instead of getting to his reason for the early-morning visit, he poured coffee for himself and Adam, then handed the pot to me.
Annoyed by the way my night had ended and how my new day started, I gave each man a straight look and asked, “Okay, what’s this about?”
Jack gave Adam a slight nod.
Hop 'Til You Drop Page 9
