by Linda Lovely
The stricken mother pulled a lace hankie from a pocket in her sack-like dress to blot the tears forging shiny rivers through her pancake makeup.
“No way…those sinners…medical gobbledygook…it was Hooker’s poison killed my Harriett…healthy as a horse. Heartburn…only bother…off-the-shelf…not a single prescription.”
“Good, good.” Jeannie patted the woman’s arm. “If the sheriff asks, no…don’t mention…Just repeat…‘Harriett was healthy as a horse.’”
Mrs. Quinn nodded. Jeannie clasped the mother to her bosom in what looked more like a wrestling move than a hug. When she returned to her own family, Jeannie edged next to her daughter, Mrs. Esther Toomey. The kindly grandmother doppelganger nodded toward Mrs. Quinn and whispered in Esther’s ear.
Whatever Jeannie said made Esther Toomey smile.
Fara helped arrange the punch, cookies, and cakes on a table across the room from the camera. As people gravitated toward the refreshments, fewer and fewer conversations proved within eavesdropping range. I checked my watch. Five o’clock. The visitation was half over.
So far I’d seen no one who looked like a killer candidate. Everyone looked sad. Several men began to fidget. Their uncomfortable body language said they’d done their duty, said their piece, and eaten cookies. Time to go.
I hadn’t spotted a single soul—male or female—who sported a self-satisfied smirk when no one was watching. Mollye had been able to name almost all of the visitors. None of the people Harriett had trashed in her blog or threatened had come to gloat.
“I’ve seen enough,” I said. “I’m going to call Fara to let us out. Tell you the truth I feel a little slimy having spied on these folks. I may not share their religious beliefs, but their loss and grief are real.”
Mollye nodded. “You’re right. But don’t forget someone in that Gold Room may have broken into your kitchen and poisoned your food to end Harriett’s life. If we had any doubt about the True Believer zealots trying to pin Harriett’s murder on you, Jeannie Nickles erased it. It’s crystal clear she plans to do everything in her power to convince the world you killed Harriet. In my book, that more than entitles you to a little harmless Peeping Tom activity.”
Less than two minutes after I phoned her, Fara unlocked the door and slipped inside. “I need you to hustle to the basement stairs the minute I tell you to go. I’m praying that cleaning lady finally left. I haven’t seen her in a while, but I can’t be sure. Pays to be careful.”
Fara opened the door a skootch, then cracked it wider to stick her head out. She looked both directions. Satisfied, she motioned us to follow her the six feet to our upstairs exit. Fara held the door to the basement open as I passed her and headed below. I was on the third rung when I heard a surprised, loud “ooph” followed by a metal rattle.
I did a 360 and ran up the steps to see what had happened. The first thing I saw was Mollye’s bare right foot. A foot previously attached to a sandal with a broken strap that sat catawampus to her tootsie. Fara was trying to help Mollye get up off the floor. I had my hand on the door knob and was about to jump into the hall to assist in hoisting Mollye, when Fara muttered sotto voice, “Get out of here, Brie. I see her.”
I caught a shadowy glimpse of a woman quite a ways down the hall. I skedaddled down the stairs. Seconds later Mollye tumbled into the stairway. The door clicked shut behind her.
“Afraid I mucked things up falling on my keister,” Mollye whispered. “Fara’s gonna stall the woman while we vamoose.”
A smart cookie and always the trooper, Moll stuck her broken sandal in a pocket, and galumphed down the stairs behind me. Grace isn’t entirely possible when one leg is five inches shorter than the other.
“You okay?” I asked. “Did that busybody cleaning lady recognize you? We need to get out of here pronto.”
“No argument from me,” Mollye whispered back. “Though I’m not happy. Never going to buy another pair of platform sandals. An accident waiting to happen. Maybe I should sue.”
We reached the bottom of the stairs and turned down the long hall leading to the back door and our escape.
Uh, oh. Trapped. A body delivery was underway. If we waltzed out now, we’d have two live witnesses—and one dead one—to our escape.
THIRTY-FOUR
Mollye grabbed my arm and pulled me into a room off the hall.
“I know those ambulance attendants,” she squeaked. “And they know me. Problem is they’re buddies with several of the mourners. The woman attendant used to be friends with Ruth Toomey, and the guy drinks with some of the Temple crowd, including Mr. Quinn.”
I nodded. “Okay, we can hide out of sight for a few minutes. I doubt the ambulance attendants saw us. They were busy navigating that rolling stretcher through the door when you yanked me in here.”
I glanced around the space we’d entered.
Rotten Roquefort! I had the distinct feeling the dead body being wheeled down the hall was coming straight to us. We were surrounded by stainless steel and, uh, very cold looking metal tables. Of course, I didn’t imagine the mortuary patients ever complained.
“We can’t stay here. No place to hide,” Moll whispered as she jerked me toward another doorway. Heaven knew what lay behind door number two.
And the answer would be?
Coffins. Dozens of them. Not a showroom. More like a mini-warehouse. Emergency inventory in case of disaster or mass murder? Or maybe Fara’s dad had taken advantage of a huge casket close-out sale. There appeared to be three categories of single-occupancy boxes: burnished mahogany, plain pine, and ornate bronze.
Moll scooted over to check out another door.
“Where does it lead?” I asked.
Moll’s shoulders slumped. “Right back into the hall, which at the moment looks busier than the Town of Ardon’s main street. We can’t leave until that ambulance duo drops off the stiff and departs.”
That’s when I heard and recognized voices. One loud enough to—excuse the expression—wake the dead.
The calm voice belonged to Fara, the screech to Mrs. Quinn.
“Liz is sure she saw Mollye Camp that psychic witch,” Mrs. Quinn yelled. “I’m gonna look for myself. You can’t stop me. That woman’s in league with the devil and she’s a friend of that Hooker girl. They’re both witches. Bet they’ve come to desecrate Harriett’s body.”
Moll and I looked at each other. Her wide eyes and open mouth gave me a mirror on my own abject terror.
Holey Swiss Cheese! I did not want to tangle with the irate Mrs. Quinn.
Where could we hide?
Of course, dozens of answers lay all around us. All we had to do was climb into a couple of coffins, wait till the commotion died down, open the crypts, and stroll away. No one would be the wiser.
Just a couple of teensy problems. I had no knowledge of casket mechanics. Did they work like roach motels—once you checked in, you never checked out? In olden days when people feared being buried alive, caskets were rigged with cords the “undead” could pull to ring an above-ground bell. One way to alert loved ones they’d rushed the funeral. Somehow I doubted these coffins had bells.
How tight were the seals? Would we run out of oxygen if we closed the lids? What if we couldn’t get the lids open again once we were inside?
Mollye watched as I hurried over to one of the plain Jane models and lifted the lid. This coffin had the tapered shape of those featured in old-timey horror flicks. Narrow at the foot and head, wide at the shoulders. She shook her head. “Un uh. I’m not getting in that thing. I’m no sardine. I need something roomier. What if I can’t get out?”
“Don’t worry,” I answered. “We’ve got our cell phones. All we have to do is wait ten minutes till all the hubbub subsides and call Fara. She’ll get us out if we have any trouble.”
As Mollye shook her head, her big hoop earrings caught my eye. “Give me
your earrings. Climb in one of these, and I’ll use your hoops to keep the lid from latching. But hurry. I gotta climb in one, too.”
Mollye extracted her earrings and handed them over. “Okay, but I’m gonna be comfortable.” She chose an ornate metal model sitting on the floor and knelt to crawl in.
I decided not to mention her choice of a steel box might interfere with her cell phone’s ability to get a signal. We were running out of time for casket shopping.
She raised the lid. Well, actually there were two lids hinged together. One designed to cover the bottom half of the occupant, one to give loved ones a final view of the deceased’s slumbering face. The inside of Mollye’s casket looked like pink frosting. She gave the plush pillow a test squeeze and lowered herself inside as she glared at me.
“My earrings had better keep this lid from closing,” she whispered. “If this is my final resting place, I promise I’ll come back and haunt you.”
I carefully inserted the earrings and closed the lid. Then I slipped into my own budget coffin. Having no hoop stoppers, I’d have to use my arms to brace the top open. There was a one-piece lid. No nail holes. No silk either. In fact I worried about slivers as I scooted inside. I figured my box was either intended to transport a body into a furnace for cremation or designed to disintegrate quickly in a green burial.
I lowered the lid to within a hair of closed. The world turned gray, not black. Light filtered through knot holes in the roughhewn box. The pine muted sound but I could still hear voices. Those voices got a lot clearer when Fara and Mrs. Quinn entered the casket room.
“Mrs. Quinn, I know you’re upset,” Fara said. “But your friend Liz is wrong. She probably mistook Shirley, one of the ambulance attendants for Mollye Camp. The women are about the same size. As you can see, there’s no one here. This is where we store caskets.”
“That Camp woman was here.” Mrs. Quinn’s voice shook. “I can feel the evil. I’m going to sit with my Harriett around the clock. I won’t leave tonight. I’m not taking a chance they’ll sneak back to desecrate her body. Bad enough the law forced me to let them cut her open. Hope the Lord accepts her body in Heaven now that it’s sewed back up.”
“I’m sure the Lord welcomes all good souls,” Fara said.
An excellent answer. I surely hoped my soul was worthy.
THIRTY-FIVE
My arms trembled from bracing the lid. Finally, all sounds of voices and footsteps disappeared. For an added safety margin I counted to one hundred, then pushed the lid open and off to the side. I’d been inside the coffin maybe five minutes; it felt like five years.
I scrambled out and hustled across the room to extract Mollye. When I heaved the lid open, I panicked. She looked waxen, a sheen of sweat on her face. Her eyes were closed. Then she stuck her arms out straight and rose like a zombie coming awake. I swallowed my laugh.
“Cut the comedy act. We need to scram.”
I helped Moll wriggle out of the casket. Not a smooth exit.
“They’re not as comfy as they look,” she quipped. “Hope I’m not fitted for one for a long time. Why did I listen to your nonsense about calling Fara on my cell phone? I was still trying to get the danged thing out of my pocket when you opened the lid. Not a lot of room for my hips in that sardine can.”
I checked my watch. Five thirty. Only thirty minutes had elapsed since we’d made our first attempt at a funeral home escape. I phoned Fara. She assured me all mourners, including Mrs. Quinn, were present and accounted for in the Gold Room.
“Go ahead, leave through the back door. No ambulances and no more bodies scheduled for delivery.”
I dropped Moll at her van and headed to Udderly. At the gate, I was pleased to see nary a picketer in sight. The wide open gate suggested a peaceful day at the dairy.
“Any excitement since I left?” I asked Eva.
“Yep, I delivered two more sets of twins.” My aunt grinned. “But if you’re talking protestors, didn’t see a one. Don’t worry about these newborns. Already have human moms lined up for these babes. But your time is coming. Imagine you’ll be busy very soon, which may prompt Andy to protest. Today starts a new Animal Passion week, right?”
“Correct, but I’m sure Andy will be more than happy to help with the kids. He seemed pleased I’d committed to surrogate nanny duty. Andy has a late appointment in Greenville. We’re meeting at that Indian restaurant he took me to on our first date. Since his sister Julie has decided she wants to be a stay-at-home mom for a few years, Andy’s interviewing vet techs to take her place.”
“Have you seen Julie’s baby yet?” Eva asked.
“Sure have. A darling little boy, Jacob. Andy’s thrilled. Growing up as the lone male with five sisters he’s hoping for more gender equality with this generation.”
“And is Andy hoping you’ll marry him and provide a baby boy?”
I looked heavenward. “Marriage seems to be on everybody’s mind since Mollye announced her engagement. I’m just dating. We definitely don’t need to jump ahead to babies. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m off to the showers. I’m sticky with sweat.”
Eva gave me an arched-eyebrow look. “Yeah, actually you stink. What have you been up to? Hard to work up that much of a sweat cooking, and it’s dang nippy outside.”
I smiled. “Just running around.” No mention of trying on a coffin.
“Well, you just missed your dad,” she said. “Howard dropped by to make sure we weren’t under siege by the True Believers. Asked you to call him when you got a chance.”
I was in and out of the shower lickity split. That gave me enough time to detour past the entrance to Jamieson Gorge on my way to meet Andy. I had a vague notion of the park’s location but wanted to make sure I didn’t get lost tomorrow. This was the first time Eva was sending me solo to meet with a prospective customer. Didn’t want to screw it up. While the wilderness sanctuary wasn’t far off the beaten track, Jamieson Gorge truly did look like a wild, lonely place. I’d try to come early for a short hike.
I reached Swad a few minutes ahead of the time Andy’d suggested we rendezvous. He beat me anyway. His vet truck was easy to spot. Andy stood and waved as I entered the hole-in-the-wall restaurant. He’d picked a booth facing the front.
Andy hugged me and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before motioning me to slide into his side of the booth. My thigh grazed his. The instant bloom of warmth helped banish the chill I’d felt ever since my brief stop at Jamieson Gorge.
But the welcome warmth wasn’t anything like the heat I felt when I came in contact with any part of Paint’s body. Geesh. Was I confusing lust with love?
Stop it. You’re with Andy tonight. It’s Animal Passion week. You shouldn’t be thinking about Paint.
But a snarky interior voice refused to shut up. Isn’t choosing between Paint and Andy the whole point of these boyfriend weeks?
I cleared my throat.
“Do you remember what you liked best the last time we visited Swad?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Andy answered. “We did a fair amount of kissing when we strolled around Falls Park after dinner. I don’t remember a thing about Swad’s menu.”
I chuckled. “I do. You turned beet red and needed several quarts of water to return to normal after sampling one of the spicier offerings.”
The chef’s wife and co-owner bustled over to our table. “So happy to see you again. Would you like us to prepare another sampling? We have a few new items on our menu.”
“No, thanks,” Andy quickly answered. “I’ll let Brie order for us. She knows my taste buds aren’t quite as developed or adventurous as hers.”
I ordered mild dishes for Andy and spicy ones for myself, accompanied by plenty of Jasmine tea.
As soon as our orders were in and the tea served, Andy launched into an excited rhapsody about his new vet tech.
“I hired Cindy on the spot
. What a find. She graduated from the vet tech program at Tri-County, and she’s been working with Doc Burns for eight years. She even has large animal practice experience.”
Though the Jasmine tea probably hadn’t steeped long enough, I poured some into our cups. “Why is Cindy leaving Doc Burns?”
“He’s retiring. Sold his practice to a married couple. They’re both veterinarians so they don’t need a tech. Burns gave Cindy a sterling recommendation. And I loved her sense of humor. She’ll be fun to work with.”
“Is she cute, too?”
A blush climbed Andy’s neck and painted his cheeks a bright red. The blush made his eyes look all the greener. “Some people might say so.” Then he hurriedly added. “But she’s not as pretty as you.”
“Nice recovery.” I grinned. “Just messing with you. Sounds like Cindy is a catch. How long before she starts?”
“She’s coming to Ardon tomorrow to complete the paperwork and look for a house to rent in town. Told her we had a pretty decent school system. Her little boy is seven.”
“Is there a husband?”
“No, they divorced four years ago, and he moved to California. Said she’d been thinking about moving for a while. Thought a new setting might be good for her boy. ”
Hmm. Could it be that handsome, eligible Andy was the main reason Cindy snapped up the job offer? Interesting. Months back when I saw Andy and Paint on a double-date with two knockouts, jealousy made me plum crazy. But the thought of Andy and a cute new tech wasn’t making me nutso.
What if it had been Paint hiring a new assistant? There I went. Back to thinking about Paint. His off-the-cuff, quasi-marriage proposal had done a real number on my head.
Our entrées came and I took the opportunity to change the subject. “I did a little detour on the way to drive past Jamieson Gorge. Ever been there? The park might rent Udderly goats to munch their way through some poison ivy and kudzu they’re not keen to tackle with machines.”
He nodded. “I’ve visited in the spring. Really pretty when the mountain laurel is blooming. Too bad you can’t train the goats to eat only noxious weeds.”
