Guidebook to Murder

by Lynn Cahoon

  A beautiful fall day greeted me; the birds were singing in the trees. But all I heard as I walked out was the hammering of siding being replaced on the front of the house. I saw Kevin’s crew had already cleaned up the wreckage of the fence and had a few new boards on. He saw me in the backyard and raced over to meet me.

  “I guess you noticed we’re starting to replace the damaged section. I’ve got guys in the back finishing up there, as well. If your friends leave you alone, I should be out of here today.” Kevin gave me one of his giant smiles that always came with a larger bill or an extension-of-time request. Today was no exception. “I left the estimate for the damage on the front porch for you. I knocked but you had that stereo rocking.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been working on the study.” I glanced down at my outfit. An oversized man’s shirt I’d kept when I threw my husband out and a pair of capris that had seen better days. Not a go-to-town outfit by far.

  “You heading out back?” Kevin nodded to the shed.

  “I’m looking for something.”

  “Can I walk with you? I want to show you something.”

  I couldn’t imagine what he wanted to show me, unless the vandal had torn down fencing in the back, as well. We walked in silence toward the small creek that ran through the back of the property behind the shed. I’d never been this far back in the field and the ground sloped downward a few feet past the creek. It was like I had my own forest back here. A dirt path disappeared back into the trees.

  “Where is the property line?” I glanced back, toward the house, but all I could see was the top of the roof.

  “About ten feet that way. It looks bigger than it is.” Kevin pointed toward the dirt path. “Come on, it’s this way.”

  “What’s this way?” I asked Kevin, but he had already gone into the trees. My guard went up. “Kevin?” I called. No answer. “Bad idea, Jill. Very, very bad idea,” I whispered as I headed through the trees. Following the path for a few feet, I broke through the tree stand and saw Kevin, sitting on a four-foot-tall rock wall, grinning.

  “Okay, what did you want to show me?” I was tired of the games.

  “This!” Kevin patted the wall. “I had heard rumors when we were kids, but no one was brave enough to sneak back here. I can’t believe I didn’t come back here when I measured out the fence line.”

  I glanced around the area. All I saw was the wall and what seemed to be a crumbling fireplace up next to the tree stand. The wall appeared to have been whitewashed, like, a thousand years ago. “Was this an old homestead?”

  “Girl, you don’t know anything about South Cove, do you?” Kevin hopped off the wall and walked the broken outline of the old house.

  “I know enough. Like the fact my shop is in the original bank building built in 1860.” Now I sounded like one of the council’s promotional flyers.

  “Nah, I mean the original South Cove. The one before the city was built out there.” Kevin stopped to gaze over the area.

  “I’m confused. The town before the town?” I sat down on the rock wall. The area around me consisted of a small meadow surrounded on all sides by a forest of trees. My house was on the east side of town away from the ocean. But on clear days from my bedroom, I could glimpse the Pacific shimmering in the distance. Anywhere in town was within biking distance to the public shore on the highway. Another good fact for my tourist trade, not that I’ve ever personally taken the bike ride.

  Kevin turned, his eyes gleaming. “A mission existed before the town. A Spanish mission tied to the Spanish crown. As a kid, I heard stories about how the mission became the hiding place for Aztec gold Cortez stole from Mexico.”

  “And why wouldn’t they just send it back to Spain? Your story has a few holes. And seriously, like the lost city of gold even existed.” I tried to remember my California history, but fourth grade had been a long time ago.

  “They couldn’t take a chance on shipping the gold because of the Barbary pirates.” Kevin’s voice went up in pitch when he got excited. Right now, he was a soprano. “Whether or not the Aztec’s lost city existed, this wall is proof that the mission existed. You are standing on a piece of California’s history.” Kevin sat down on the wall, out of breath.

  The wall area looked kind of pretty. I wondered if I could set up a patio out here, a place to hide in plain sight with a book or two. I could put a fridge in the shed for cool drinks. The birds gently chirping in the background and the air a mixed smell of salt air and the pine trees surrounding the spot. For a second, I felt happy. Then I remembered the council’s thirty-day summons. Putting my landscaping daydreams aside, I asked, “You think you can get this all done by the end of next week?” I would have liked to get at least one local contractor off my personal payroll.

  Kevin shook his head. Inwardly, I groaned. This would not be good news. “We’re going to have to get the historical commission out here to verify the site and give us permission to finish up the fence.”

  Another delay. No way would I meet the council’s deadline. I’d have to get a lawyer and appeal for more time. “How long is that going to take? I’m on a deadline here.”

  “Two, maybe three weeks. They’ll send someone out to do an initial survey, but if this is the lost mission, you’ll have people in your backyard for months, maybe years. I’m sure once they verify the site, they will want to have the fencing completed as soon as possible. Maybe even do an upgrade.” Kevin had a gleam in his eyes.

  I wasn’t sure if the gleam came from finding missing treasure or a possible increase in the fencing contract. I’d bet on the latter being the source of his joy, but I’d become cynical around my contractors lately. I sat down on the rock wall and ran my hand over the rough edges of the stone. “It doesn’t look big enough to be a mission. Not like the one I visited in Santa Barbara.”

  “My high school history teacher was an expert on the mission period. She said that when the measles epidemic wiped out most of the Native American tribe, the chief decided that the mission had been cursed. They tore down the mission and carried off the stones, scattering the pieces over miles so the mission could never be rebuilt. Most of the friars were killed, but a few escaped and headed to the San Luis Obispo de Tolosa Mission down the coast.” Kevin recited the history like high school had been last week rather than more than fifteen years ago.

  “You remember all that from a class?” In all the time he’d worked on the house, I’d never heard him talk anything but fencing products and sports. He was an ESPN junkie.

  Kevin grinned. “It’s the only thing I remember from high school except for the basketball season our team took state. Miss Kelly was closer to our age and hot. She used our class more for research for her master’s degree in the local legends about the mission. Everyone had at least one story to tell that his or her family has passed down through the generations. At least the locals.”

  “Sounds like a fun class.” Cost estimates on a new, higher fence were running through my head. “The delay will push me past the council’s deadline. I guess I’d been a fool to ever think I could save the house.” I glanced around the area, my dreams of a secluded patio slipping away before my eyes.

  Kevin stared at me. “You don’t get it, do you? If this is the mission, and I think it is, the historical society is going to want to preserve this find. If not, they still will take months to determine the site’s historical value. Either way, the council is going to have to give you more time. It’s rare to find something like this that hasn’t already been destroyed or poached for any historical value at all. This mission has to be preserved.”

  Hope seeped into my bones. “Do you want to make the call to the historical commission or should I?”

  After being transferred six times, I finally reached someone who promised a surveyor out to the house on Friday. When I asked if they would call the council, the woman had been vague. “The surveyor will make a determination of future commitments for the site within two weeks of the visit.” In bureaucratic code, d
on’t get your hopes up.

  I made a second call to Jimmy Marcum and scheduled an appointment for nine on Wednesday. I wasn’t going to wait for fate to intervene. This time I would force the council to back off, even if it cost me all the money Miss Emily left me to do it. I didn’t have the money last week, so if I didn’t have it tomorrow, it would be no big deal.

  Kevin had taken off after the first call but promised his crew would have everything done except what he now called the mission site tomorrow. “I’ll be here on Friday when the history guy shows up. Do you mind if I bring my camera? This is going to be South Cove history I can show my kids when they’re older.”

  “Knock yourself out.” I watched as he danced a modified version of the electric slide on his way out of the kitchen. You would have thought I’d just promised him a million dollars the way he acted. I glanced at the clock. Three o’clock. If I hurried, I could get changed and head over to Bakerstown to pick out furniture for my new study. I headed upstairs.

  After showering, I pulled on a blue flowered sundress I’d found in my closet and some cute but sturdy sandals. I had to either do laundry tomorrow or stop by my apartment for more clothes. The sundress had been my only option.

  I locked the front door when I heard a voice behind me. “Going somewhere?”

  I knew that voice. “Heading into town for some shopping and dinner.” I turned and almost fell over.

  Greg sat on the rails of the fence surrounding my front porch. His crisp white button-down shirt was tucked into black jeans that hugged black cowboy boots. I could feel the way the cool cotton would touch my skin as I ran my hands down his chest, the heat of his body matching mine and heating up the cotton as I pushed harder, making contact.

  “Jill?”

  God, I had to stop that. This man could make me think, well, think. I put my keys into my straw bag. “What?”

  “Where were you? I asked if I could come along.” His grin said he knew what I was thinking.

  Blushing, I headed to the truck parked in front of my house. “If you drive.” I felt the heat of his body as I walked by. I had to be imagining this. I should have said no. I wasn’t quite sure I’d be able to keep my hands from following my thoughts, especially on the road trip to Bakerstown. I whirled around. “Why do you want to come, anyway?”

  His eyes met mine. “Do I need to tell you?” He paused. “Who else is going to keep you out of trouble? Until we determine who’s been threatening you, we’re joined at the hip.”

  My heart sank. The job, nothing more. “I guess I should say thanks.” I took a deep breath. “I’ll fill you in on the latest episode of the soap opera that has become my life on the way to the furniture store.”

  “Now what?” Greg called after me, but I was already sprinting to the truck. He wouldn’t have to open my door or help me in if I could help it.

  I waited for him to climb in and start up the truck before I filled him in on the rock wall that Kevin swore was the old mission. Greg’s eyes stayed on the road while I went through Kevin’s logic. When I got to the part about the mission hiding Aztec gold, he snorted. I stopped talking and turned to watch him. With his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, the only thing I could see on his face was an enormous smile.

  “Why are you laughing?”

  “Kevin’s wrong about the mission being Cortez’s hiding place. Unless Cortez lived for at least two hundred years, his body had already turned to dust before the first rock was laid to build the mission.” Greg sped up and went around a slow-moving minivan with Texas plates.

  “Tourists,” he mumbled under his breath.

  “How come you know so much about local history?” This man had more layers than a Vidalia onion.

  “I majored in history.” Greg glanced at me. “What, cops can’t know anything except how to catch bad guys?”

  I’d assumed he had a criminal justice degree if he had even gone to college. But I wasn’t going to admit my error to him. “I never see you in the shop, so how would I know your tastes in reading?”

  Greg’s face turned pink. “If I tell you this, you can’t hate me.” He paused, waiting for a response. When I stayed silent, he continued, “I buy my books online.”

  I swatted him with my notebook. I couldn’t believe him. “I’m trying to build a business here. Online might be a little cheaper, but you can’t replace real expertise.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that once I get off shift, the last thing I want to do is go shopping.”

  “And yet, here you are, driving me to the furniture store. Is it all stores you target for destruction or just mine?” I turned my head, staring out the window at the ocean. Seagulls played in the gentle breeze, and I could hear their calls.

  “If I’d realized what I’d been missing, I would have been your best customer.”

  The tone of his voice made me stop watching the birds hunt for a quick fish dinner and turn. He stared straight ahead. Had I imagined the words or at least the feeling behind them?

  “You’d better stock up your history section,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to make that mistake again.”

  I didn’t know how to answer, so I didn’t. The rest of the ride to Country Collections, we listened to the country ballads coming out of the radio. Greg had turned the volume up after the first five miles of silence. Thoughts kept flying through my head, but by the time I sorted through something to say that wouldn’t make me sound like a schoolgirl or worse, desperate, Greg had pulled the truck into the parking lot.

  “Here we are.” All I could come up with.

  “Yep,” came the response from the other side of the truck.

  I opened my door and slid to the ground, knowing if I just sat there, I’d wind up kissing him. And once I tasted those solid, totally soft lips, I wouldn’t stop.

  My cell phone rang as soon as we walked in the door back home. Greg followed right behind me, carrying the shaggy rug I’d picked out to go under the love seat being delivered tomorrow. I shifted the potted fern I held into one hand and pulled the cell out of my purse.

  “Hello?” I hadn’t had time to check caller ID. At the worse it was a telemarketer or another threat. Either way, I had Greg for backup today.

  “Jill Gardner?”

  Telemarketer. “This is Jill.” Half-listening, I followed Greg into the study and set the plant down on a chair.

  “Miss Gardner, this is Henry Williams. Crystal told me that you were asking about Mary.”

  I sat down at the desk, pulling out a notebook. “I’m glad you called. Did Crystal fill you in on everything?”

  “She said that you were trying to settle an estate. So, Bob’s mom passed?” The man didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then added, “She was a great lady.”

  Shock went through my body. “You knew Miss Emily?”

  “Bob and I were on the football team together. Then, when he shipped out to Vietnam, I followed three months later. We were assigned to the same platoon once we were in country. What a coincidence, huh? Two boys from the same small town together in that hellhole.”

  Greg glanced at me as he unwrapped the rug. “Mr. Williams, I guess I don’t know how to ask this delicately.”

  “You want to know if Joshua is my son or Bob’s.” The voice on the line seemed to pause.

  “That about sums it up, yes.” I paused, waiting for the answer. This man must have been an actor during some part of his life, because he knew all about the dramatic pause.

  “See that’s the thing. I don’t know. Mary and I were dating after Bob left, but we both got leave at the same time. As soon as we got off the plane, I knew where her heart belonged, but I made her go out that night just one more time. I’m not proud of what I did, but I played the pity card. It had been a while and we weren’t going to be home long.”

  “And you had sex.”

  “Now don’t you go labeling Mary a bad girl or anything. She was nice and kind and sweet. I pushed that night. And I spent the rest of my
life making up for it.”

  “But you broke up?”

  “Mary confessed she was still in love with Bob. After that night, I didn’t see either of them again until we boarded the plane to go back. Bob told me he’d asked her to marry him.”

  “So Joshua could have been your son.” I put the pen down.

  “I always hoped so. Bob stepped on a land mine out on patrol a few months later. I kept seeing that grin on his face when he got on that plane. Sometimes I saw the same grin on Joshua’s face.”

  The phone line went silent. I thought I’d lost the connection when I heard, “I’ve mailed you a package. I found them when I went through Mary’s things.” His voice cracked. “I guess she kept them all these years. I couldn’t read them, but maybe they can help you.”

  “What can help me, Mr. Williams?” But this time the line had gone dead. He had hung up on me. Greg had unwrapped the rug and sat on the floor, running his hands through the light blue shag.

  “Did you get your answers?” He didn’t look up as he continued to finger the soft cotton fibers.

  I sighed. “I think I just got more questions.” I leaned back into the chair and took in the office that would be filled with new furniture tomorrow, marking my territory. The paint smell still lingered, giving me a headache. “He’s not sure if he’s Joshua’s dad or not. But he’s sending something over that could explain.”

  Or not, I thought. He hadn’t been able to read whatever he found. A journal? Letters? Either way, I hoped it helped settle the uneasy feeling I had that all the work I’d done on my house would be enjoyed by a new family.

  “Some women cheat.” Greg’s voice sounded muffled, his head tilted downward.

  “It’s more complicated than that. It sounds like Henry had always been Mary’s second choice.” I paused. I wasn’t helping Mary’s cause out here.

  Greg raised his head and stared at me. “It’s always complicated,” he said with a sarcastic tone. His eyes were tight.