Reap a Wicked Harvest

by Janis Harrison

  “Well,” I said as soon as the receiver was back in its cradle. “What did he say?”

  “Thursday Marnie asked him if she could see these files. When he wanted to know the reason, she wouldn’t give him an answer. On Friday, she asked him again, but this time she told him that a friend had worked here, but had disappeared three months ago.”

  “Disappeared from where?”

  “Dan didn’t get all the particulars. Marnie was upset. She kept saying she’d let her down, whoever she was. Dan is upset with himself for not thinking about these files sooner. He wants me to turn them over to the sheriff immediately.”

  “Did Dan know this friend’s name?”

  “Paige Cooper.”

  “Cooper?” I repeated. I’d missed that file, and then realized Natalie had the first part of the alphabet. I’d had the tail end. I flipped through her stack and found it. I read over the information. Paige Cooper. She was nineteen years old and a high school graduate. I recognized the address as being on the lower-income side of River City. Paige had listed her mother as next of kin and to be notified in case of an emergency. Last job before coming to work at Parker Greenhouse was at a convenience store.

  “Did you find anything?” asked Natalie.

  “Not much.” I turned the paper over. Last day of employment was two weeks after she’d started to work.

  I studied the papers, wondering why Marnie had requested to see employee files for the last three years. If she’d wanted the names of Paige’s coworkers, she’d have asked for only last year’s data. What was she looking for?

  Paige had come to work a year ago last August. Two weeks later she had given notice that she was leaving. I had to assume that Paige had been fine until she’d disappeared three months ago.

  Had Marnie hired on at Parker Greenhouse to look for information on Paige’s disappearance? What had she learned that would make her think something here at the greenhouse could shed light on her missing friend?

  Chapter Ten

  Sid had to be made aware of the files. I wasn’t going to wait until morning to notify him of this latest development. I called his office, figuring he was slumped at his desk, examining reports, but was told Sheriff Hancock was at home. As I dialed his number, I decided he’d probably needed a change of scenery and had taken his work home with him.

  Sid answered after the second ring. “Sheriff Hancock. What’s going on?”

  “Hi, Sid. This is Bretta. If you’ve got a minute, I’d like to—”

  His impatient sigh whistled in my ear. “I’m ready to walk out the door. I have to be at a political rally in twenty minutes.”

  I bit my lip. I’d been off the mark. So much for Sid being slumped at his desk examining reports. “I think this is important,” I said. “I’ve just found out that Marnie asked Dan if she could look over the greenhouse’s personnel files for the last three years.”

  “Where are you going with this? Cut to the bottom line.”

  Rapidly, I said, “Marnie’s friend, Paige Cooper, worked at Parker Greenhouse last August. After two weeks she quit. Three months ago, she disappeared. I think that’s why Marnie came to work here. She was looking for information on her friend.”

  Silence greeted my jumble of words. Finally, Sid said, “I want your formal statement on the present murder. You can give it when you bring me those files tomorrow. As for this Cooper woman, I remember something about the case, but I need to refresh my memory. Good-bye.”

  He hung up before I could say another word. I was irritated. Maybe Dad and Donovan were right. Perhaps Sid was so intent on winning the election that he wasn’t being thorough on this murder.

  A half hour later, Natalie lost interest and went up to shower and watch television. I hardly noticed when she left the study. I was like a hound with his snout to the trail. I had to see where the scent took me. I started all over again by making comparisons. I looked for other employees who’d been hired at the same time as Paige. I found three. They were men, ranging in age from eighteen to fifty-two. Next I checked character references to see if any of the employees listed the same sources. No match.

  Tapping my forehead, I murmured, “Why did Marnie want to see these files? What did she hope to find?”

  Going back to the dates, I checked to see how many employees had left after only two weeks. When I’d finished I had three files—Paige Cooper. Dixie Ragsford. Shannon Plummer. One file per year. I straightened the stack and pushed it aside to make way for an in-depth look at these three folders. All three were young—Paige and Dixie had been nineteen. Shannon had been twenty. All were from River City.

  Time slipped away as I went over each file again and again. I kept shuffling them, trying to find similarities, but my brain was too tired to think. I looked at the clock and gasped. I’d been at this for hours and still wasn’t certain about anything.

  My next step was to contact each woman on my list, but it was too late for that tonight. I’d have to wait until tomorrow. What I needed was a list of addresses and phone numbers. I picked up a pencil, but didn’t have the energy to begin.

  I stood up and pushed the rest of the folders into a tidy stack. Should I put them in the desk drawer? My hands grew still. Natalie had surprised an intruder the morning after Marnie’s murder. Had someone come into the lodge looking for these files?

  To be on the safe side, I decided to take them upstairs with me. I flipped off the light, glanced out the front window, and saw the deputies patrolling the grounds. Breathing a sigh of relief, I took my weary body off to bed.

  Early the next morning, I stopped by the flower shop to make photocopies of Paige’s, Dixie’s, and Shannon’s files. I started the coffee brewing and then drove to Sid’s office. River City’s administrative buildings were located in a quadrangle that covered four city blocks. The sheriff’s department, library, post office, and city hall encircled the Spencer County courthouse—an imposing three-story limestone structure. With so many offices concentrated in one area, parking is often at a premium. At this early hour, I had my pick of slots and pulled into one. Sid’s designated space was empty.

  The woman at the front desk told me he was at a Sunrise Optimist Club meeting, delivering a campaign speech, but he had left instructions concerning my arrival. I had experience giving statements and was quick and concise. After the paper work was completed, I handed over the files and received a note from Sid. It was to the point: Bretta, back off this Cooper woman until I’ve reviewed the facts. Sid.

  Fine, but he hadn’t said I couldn’t pursue other leads. At the flower shop I poured a cup of coffee and took it into my office. I tried the phone numbers that Dixie and Shannon had used on their application form. Both had been disconnected. Next I tried the numbers listed under character references. Out of six, only one person answered, and she’d never heard of Shannon Plummer.

  Undaunted, I pulled my copy of the River City Residential Directory from the shelf. I labored at cross-referencing the addresses from the applications to people who lived on that same street. Next I narrowed these down to next door neighbors. I heard Lois and Lew come into work and called hello, but I kept compiling addresses. It was a tedious process, but after an hour I leaned back and studied the list.

  The phone rang. I heard Lois answer and call to me. “It’s Natalie, Bretta. She wants to speak with you.”

  I picked up the extension in my office. “Hello.”

  “You left early this morning so I didn’t have a chance to remind you that I want to send a bouquet of flowers to Marnie’s funeral service.”

  “Has her body been released from the coroner’s office?”

  “Yes. From what I understand her family will be making funeral arrangements sometime today. Fix a nice bouquet, but don’t be too extravagant. I think there’s going to be a memorial, and I want to donate to it as well.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “I see the files are gone. You’ve taken them to the sheriff?”

  “Yes.
That’s why I left the lodge early.”

  “Did you learn anything more after I went upstairs last night?”

  I picked up my list. “Do these names mean anything to you? a Paige Cooper, Dixie Ragsford, and Shannon Plummer?”

  “I told you about Dixie and her ambition to be a countrymusic singer. From what Dan said, Paige was Marnie’s friend. But I don’t remember Shannon Plummer.”

  Disappointed but not surprised, I said, “Okay, but call me if you think of something.” I started to caution Natalie not to say anything about the files or mention the names, but she’d already hung up.

  I went back to my list of addresses. Since I was hoping for a good gossip with a nosy neighbor, I didn’t think a phone call would reap any rich rewards. What this situation called for was the personal touch with an added bit of incentive. From my point of view that meant I needed to arrive bearing a gift or bribe if that turned out to be the case. Either way, I figured a single red rose wrapped in florist tissue would enhance my chances of getting the conversational ball rolling.

  Now that I had a plan I was ready for action. I passed through the workroom on my way to the back cooler. After choosing several perfect red roses, I came back to my table and prepped the flowers. As was our custom any rose that left my shop had to be wired and the stem end placed in a water tube.

  When I went to the cabinet to get the waxed green tissue, Lois said, “Did Natalie give you a flower order?”

  “Yes. I’ll dictate it to you while I do these roses.” I proceeded to give her the information, concerning the bouquet for Marnie’s service. “You’ll have to check with the funeral home later today to see when the service is.” I glanced around the shop. “Where’s Lew?”

  “On deliveries. He’ll be back shortly.”

  “That’s good. Since we aren’t busy, I’m going to be gone for a while.”

  “Do I dare ask who you’re giving the roses to?”

  “No one person.” I gave Lois a quick grin. “I’m spreading the joy around.”

  Lois cocked an eyebrow. “In exchange for what?”

  While I wrapped the roses, I gave her a quick account of my intentions, and how I’d come to this plan, and why I felt it was necessary. “Those personnel files are important, I’m just not sure why or which ones. I’m starting with Dixie’s and Shannon’s, because Sid has warned me off of Paige’s. I picked these ladies because they left Parker Greenhouse two weeks after they started work and because they’re all about the same age.”

  Lois frowned. “Why is that important?”

  “I don’t know that it is, but it’s something they all three had in common.” Quickly, I amended, “All four if I count Marnie’s age, too.”

  My summary coincided with my task. I finished both and stood the roses upright in a plastic container. “So,” I asked, “what’s your opinion? Do you think I’m on to something?”

  Her tone was droll. “Yeah. A collision course with a killer.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Usually I go to the people directly involved, but this time I’m taking my inquiry away from the main suspects. I’m approaching the motive for Marnie’s murder from a totally different angle, looking for background information.” I picked up the roses, my purse, and a clipboard before I headed for the back door.

  “Hey!” called Lois. “When will you be back?”

  “Noon should give me plenty of time,” I said, closing the door.

  I’d decided to start with Dixie Ragsford. As I drove to the first address on my list for her, I thought about my cover story for asking questions. The truth is always a first option, but that often leads to a lengthy explanation as to why I’m involved. Keeping it simple, I decided to say there could be back pay due Dixie for overtime at the greenhouse. Money always got people’s attention and it would be a way to introduce the subject of the greenhouse. Seemed feasible.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’d located the house, which sat midway on the block. It was well kept and had been newly sided with white vinyl. The harsh sun had burned the close-clipped lawn to prickly stubble. It crunched under foot as I crossed a patch to the front door.

  I looked for a doorbell, but didn’t find one. I rapped on the aluminum storm door. I had Dixie’s application form attached to the clipboard. I had the rose in hand. Putting a smile on my lips, I was ready. I waited. Inside the house I heard movement—creaky floorboards. Brisk steps made the windows jiggle in their frames. Finally, the interior door swung open.

  My gaze had been straight ahead. I had to tilt my head down to meet the stare of the tiny woman standing in the doorway. She couldn’t have been more than five feet tall. Piercing blue eyes studied me. Her gray hair was brushed back from her face and anchored tightly to her scalp with rhinestone combs. She wore a floral-printed house dress covered with an apron like my mother used to wear. It had deep pockets and was edged with rickrack, a trim I hadn’t seen in years.

  “Yes?” she said. “I don’t buy from door-to-door salesmen or women, for that matter.”

  “I’m not selling anything. I’m sorry to bother you, but I need information on”—I glanced at the clipboard—“a Dixie Ragsford. She worked at Parker Greenhouse two years ago and because of a bookkeeping error, she might be due some back pay. I tried the phone number on her application form but it isn’t in service.” I flashed a winsome smile and held out the rose. “This is for your trouble, Mrs. Hinkle.”

  “Well, you’ve got the right place,” she said, eyeing the rose. “But you’ve got the wrong person. I’m Mrs. Jamison. I keep house for Mr. Hinkle. His wife passed away about six months ago. He’s bedridden. Can’t do a thing for himself.”

  I offered the rose again, and this time she opened the door and took it. I said, “Could you ask him if he remembers Dixie Ragsford?”

  “He might. His mind is sharp, but his body’s about done for.” She shook her head. “Sad. He lies there and thinks about all the things he used to do.” She sniffed the rose. “Nice,” she murmured. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll go ask him about this woman. What was her name again?”

  I repeated it and watched the door swing shut. I had little hope for any useful information, but there was always a chance. Five minutes passed and then ten. It was hot on the stoop. Beads of perspiration trickled down my back. Wistfully, I looked at my SUV. I’d left the engine running and the AC on. It was too tempting. I was turning to go when I heard footsteps from within the house.

  This time when the door opened my smile had melted, quivering at the edges. The housekeeper took one look at me and said, “You spend most of your time inside, don’t you? This heat really gets to a person who’s used to air-conditioning.”

  “It’s plenty warm today.”

  She chuckled. “That’s an understatement. It’s hotter than hell, but Missouri’s like that—always extremes. Tomorrow we might need our long underwear, but I doubt it.”

  She hunched her shoulders and spread out her hands. “Well, I’ve got some bad news. Mr. Hinkle remembers this Dixie. In fact that’s what took so long. He remembered all sorts of things. One thought brought up another and another and another until I almost lost track of what you’d asked in the first place. Her father was a large animal veterinarian. Dixie used to accompany him when he went on medical calls. He died a couple years ago when he was gored by a bull. Her mother remarried and moved away. I tried to tell Harry Hinkle that you wanted information on Dixie, not the family, but once he gets to reminiscing, he dredges up stuff that’s no use to anyone.”

  “That’s all good to know, but did he say anything about Dixie?”

  Mrs. Jamison pursed her lips. “I guess you could say Dixie lives in River City. Given her circumstances, I’d more say she exists here. Harry Hinkle says Dixie was depressed when she came home and tried to commit suicide. He says it was before his Ava got sick because she went to the hospital to visit her, and she’s still there.”

  I was confused. “Ava?”

  “Good gracious, no. Av
a was Harry Hinkle’s wife. That poor woman is dead and buried. It’s Dixie who’s in the hospital. She’s a mental patient out at that place on the edge of town. You know the one. It has the big black fence around it.”

  “Coventry Acres?” I asked.

  “That’s it. That’s the one. Harry Hinkle says that when Ava came back from visiting Dixie, she told him she’d never go again. It was too upsetting. Of course by that time the cancer had gotten a grip on her liver. She couldn’t do much going even if she’d wanted to.”

  “I appreciate all this information,” I said. I went down the steps and edged my way toward my vehicle.

  Mrs. Jamison kept talking. “Harry Hinkle says Dixie used to sing. That’s what she wanted to do—be a famous singer. He says she went to work at a greenhouse to get money for a bus ticket to Nashville. As far as he knows she never went to Nashville, but she did go up north. She came back to River City with a bunch of cash, but her father was dead and her spirit was broken. Harry Hinkle says Dixie had lost her ambition to be a singer and her will to live. That’s when she tried to kill herself.”

  When Mrs. Jamison paused to take a breath, I quickly said, “You and Mr. Hinkle have been a big help. Thanks again.”

  Cold air enveloped me once I was behind the steering wheel. I backed out of the Hinkle drive and headed south. Three blocks later, I reached over and turned the AC down. My skin was hot, but inside I was cold. My condition had nothing to do with the temperature, but everything to do with what Mrs. Jamison had told me.

  Paige had disappeared. Marnie had been murdered. Dixie had suffered a mental breakdown. Before I looked up anyone connected with Shannon Plummer, I had to see Dixie for myself. My next stop was Coventry Acres’ psychiatric ward.

  chapter Eleven

  The black wrought-iron fence that encircled Coventry Acres was impressive. It seemed to stretch forever. The facility was one level and was built of red brick with white trim. Old trees had been preserved during the construction process. The leafy branches framed the building giving it a sheltered, protected air.