A Grave Situation

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A Grave Situation Page 17

by Libby Howard


  “Did you work with Ford?” the man asked me.

  “No, I’m a friend of the family,” I told him. “Did you work with him?”

  He nodded. “We all loved Ford. He was an amazing boss. Fair. Kind. Smart. His son Len is a good guy, but I’m gonna miss having Ford around.”

  I guessed that Len took over the business when his father got ill. It reminded me that David had also worked for Ford when he’d come back from this last rehab.

  “It’s heartbreaking that they’ve lost two family members this year,” I commented. “Did you know David Driver? Ford’s…cousin? He’d started work this past January and died I think in March?”

  The man nodded again. “I knew David. He was nice. A hard worker, too. Seemed to have everything together. Met his fiancée. She stopped by the job site looking for him a few times.”

  “Mary.” I was surprised that she’d come by David’s work.

  “No, that wasn’t her name.” The man frowned. “Melanie. She was weird, in my opinion. Told us she was engaged to David and was asking about when he was working and what sites he was on. The next day I told David she’d been by and he seemed upset by it. Told me to let him know if she came back. She didn’t, so I guess he talked to her about showing up at his work.” The man shook his head. “Some women are strange like that. They’re always thinking you’re cheating or something and having to check up on you all the time. Better not to get mixed up with someone like that, you know?”

  I caught my breath. It was the connection Detective Norris would need. Melanie could claim she’d gotten the ring from a pawn shop, but her showing up at David’s work? Asking about him? She had to be the crazy ex that Mary’s friends had been talking about.

  “I’m Kay Carrera,” I told the man, sticking out my hand.

  “Steve Polk.” He shook my hand while I committed his name to memory. As soon as the funeral was over, I needed to call the Sherriff’s Office and have Detective Norris get in touch with Steve Polk over at Branch Building and Electric.

  I gave my condolences to Sarah and was looking around for Olive or DeLanie when I saw a face I recognized—someone I hadn’t expected to be at Ford Branch’s funeral.

  “Miles,” I said once I’d made my way over to the deputy who was wearing a navy suit that looked like he might have last worn it to his high school prom. “I didn’t realize you knew Ford.”

  “I…uh, yeah. Not well, but thought I’d come pay my respects, you know.”

  I eyed the deputy, thinking that he was a horrible liar. “You’re here working, aren’t you? Undercover, I assume?”

  He let out a breath. “No, I’m here to attend a funeral.”

  “Well, tell Norris he needs to talk to Steve Polk at Branch Building and Electric—that’s Ford’s company. The man said that a woman named Melanie had shown up at one of the job sites before David Driver’s death claiming to be David’s fiancée and asking about which job sites he worked at and what hours he worked. See? They knew each other more than professionally. And Melanie has motive if she was claiming to be David’s fiancée. Maybe she felt jilted and killed Mary out of jealousy, then snagged the ring she felt should have been hers.”

  Miles turned aside and whispered. “We’re checking the pawn shop records she said she bought it from, but nothing was ever filed on that ring. Pawn shops have to file with the police for every single thing they buy or take as pawn collateral. It’s the law, and there’s nothing on the report that matches that ring.”

  “So you are here on business,” I whispered back.

  “Keeping an eye out in case something happens,” he said, scanning the room.

  “Me too,” I told him.

  “Hey, I went by the courthouse the other day,” he told me. “Stopped by the property tax office.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “And?”

  “I think Violet Smith is pretty. And smart. And she doesn’t seem at all like her sisters, except they all look alike, you know. But beyond that, she…. well, she’s hot.”

  Score two for my matchmaking success. Well, if Violet liked him back, that is. “Did you ask her out?”

  His grin was more than a bit sheepish. “No. Not yet. I was hoping you’d put in a good word for me first. I’m not exactly Don Juan when it comes to the ladies, you know.”

  I patted him on the shoulder. “Miles, you’re adorable. And yes, I’ll call Violet next week and put in a good word for you. Stop by the office around Thursday or Friday and I’ll let you know what she says. I’ll even bring muffins.”

  “Double chocolate?” He gave me a sideways glance.

  “Apple spice,” I told him. “Now do your job and catch a murderer.”

  “I’m trying.”

  I moved away to find Olive and DeLanie. The two women and Suzette were off to the side of the room, looking at the collage of Ford and in particular looking at the picture where I’d seen the resemblance between him and David.

  “That Melanie woman did it,” Olive whispered to me. “I’ve been thinking about it all night, and I’m sure she did it.”

  “I agree,” Suzette whispered as well. “I think she’s guilty of murder and of dumping that poor woman’s body in David’s grave.”

  “The police are checking the pawn shop and I found someone who said she was coming around David’s work claiming to be his fiancée and asking about his hours,” I whispered back. “I think Melanie did it, too.”

  Olive recoiled. “He may have dated her, but David wasn’t a player. He wasn’t the kind of man who would lead two women on with promises of marriage. He never would have proposed and given Mary that ring unless he’d completely broken things off with Melanie.”

  “If there ever was anything going on with Melanie,” I told her. “It could have been all in that woman’s head for all we know, some kind of crazy unrequited love.”

  A muscle twitched in Olive’s jaw. “She’s not here at the funeral, but she’ll be at the interment. She’s always at the interment. And while she’s there, I’m going to sneak into her office and see if she’s got pictures in there of David, or of Mary, or letters or something.”

  “Me too,” Suzette added. “She was bold enough to wear that ring on a chain right in front of everyone. I’ll bet she’s got other things in her desk.”

  “Probably,” I agreed. “And I’m sure the police will find them. They’ll get proof she was lying about the pawn shop, then they’ll talk to this co-worker of David’s and have proof that she knew David, that she had motive, then they’ll get a search warrant and find this other stuff.”

  Olive shook her head. “She’ll probably have gotten rid of it by then.”

  “The woman that was wearing Mary’s engagement ring around her neck?” I scoffed. “I don’t think she can get rid of anything. You heard her at the cemetery. She kept insisting the ring was hers. I think in her head she really believes David was going to marry her. After he died, she probably snapped on Mary.”

  “Or Mary confronted her for stressing David and pushing him over the edge on his recovery, and Melanie shot her,” Olive added. “Either way, I want to make sure she’s not hiding evidence before our slow-as-molasses, Mayberry-like police force gets around to searching her office.”

  “Don’t,” I urged. “Her lawyer will counter and say you planted pictures there or something else. Just let Detective Norris do his job.”

  I can’t believe I was saying this, the very person who stuck her nose into every murder investigation. In a way I did agree with Olive. The police might get their search warrants too late, after Melanie had hidden anything incriminating. I’d searched social media like a bloodhound and not found a smoking gun. A ring and stalking a guy at his workplace were a big leap to murder. It was all too flimsy, too circumstantial for the police to make a murder charge stick.

  Smoking gun. Mary had been shot. If Melanie had killed her, that gun had to be somewhere.

  “I’m doing it,” Olive insisted.

  “Me too,” Suzette ch
imed in.

  I wavered for half a second—truly only half a second. “Okay, but I’m coming with you two.”

  Olive gave me a quick smile. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that. Now come with us. They’re about to start the funeral service.”

  I sat in between Olive and DeLanie, and as the minster described Ford’s life, I felt tears sting my eyes. This was the first funeral I’d been to since Eli’s and the reminder was hard to ignore.

  I missed him. I missed Eli so much. There were days when I wasn’t sure what to do with myself, how I’d possibly go on without a man who’d been my whole life. Then there were days when I felt like I was on the verge of something new and wonderful—not better than my life with Eli, but different and just as amazing.

  But here, with the casket and the music, and the minister, and the scripture, I felt my loss like a sharp knife between my ribs.

  After the service, I pulled my car into the procession line with my lights on and drove slowly through town and into the gates of the cemetery. Once there, I veered off to the left, making my way around the outer roads and toward the newer section in the back where the offices were located. I parked my car next to Olive’s and got out to stand next to her and Suzette.

  “Are you sure about this?” I asked Olive. “You’re missing your uncle’s graveside service and we might not find anything.”

  “I’m sure,” she said with a sharp nod. “Uncle Ford would have wanted justice done. He would have wanted David and his fiancée to rest in peace knowing their killer was paying for her crime.”

  I agreed. “Then let’s go.”

  The three of us headed into the building and I turned right, leading Olive and Suzette to the office I knew was Melanie’s. The door wasn’t just unlocked; it was wide open. With a quick look around, Olive and Suzette headed for the desk while I checked the various knickknacks and other items on a shelf by the door.

  The books were clean, in alphabetical order. They were the sort of gilt-lettered, leather-bound books that someone bought to display but not read. Just like the unexciting art on the walls. It reminded me of Melanie—cool, unemotional, efficient. It was hard to believe a woman like that could murder someone, but I’d seen her face when Olive hugged her. I’d seen her face when Detective Norris had confiscated the ring.

  It was hers, she’d claimed. And she’d been a boiling pot of rage about the detective taking something she felt belonged to her. Then just as quickly as the emotion appeared on her face, it was gone, leaving the usual cool placid expression in its place.

  “We found something,” Olive hissed. “Here. Letters.”

  I came around the other side of the desk where Suzette had used a tissue to pull some letters from a drawer. The top two were from David, insisting that their brief relationship was over and that she stop calling him. The next one was from David informing her that if she showed up at his work again, he was going to the police. The next one was him begging her not to make trouble, to just leave him alone. Not to hurt Mary.

  Hurt Mary? Had Melanie threated to harm the woman? I eyed Olive who nodded grimly. This combined with the ring and David’s co-worker’s testimony might be enough.

  There was more. The next stack was a bunch of letters that Melanie had evidently sent David and had somehow retrieved from him. They were letters of love that later on became letters threatening to kill Mary if he didn’t return to Melanie. David was hers, and she wasn’t about to give him up.

  “Whoa,” Olive softly voiced.

  “He was mine.”

  The three of us jumped at the voice, looking up to see Melanie standing in the doorway.

  “She stole him from me. He was mine, and that cow stole him.” Melanie took a step into the room and I moved away from Olive and Suzette, thinking that two of us might need to tackle this woman while the other one got away.

  Oh Lord, I hoped she didn’t have that gun.

  Melanie took another step forward. “When David died, that stupid cow he was dating saw me at the interment. She came after the reception at the church to see me. She blamed me, said if I hadn’t been stalking him then he never would have turned to drugs again.” Melanie’s laugh had a rough, hysterical edge to it. “Me! He was fine until he met her. Yeah, he was using, but he had it under control. Then he met her and suddenly he’s too good for me and doesn’t want to see me anymore. She stole him from me. That ring should have been mine. I loved him for years, and I should have been the one wearing his ring. Me.”

  I stepped around the desk, holding my hands so she could see I wasn’t carrying any weapons. “I know how you feel, Melanie. I lost my husband this year, remember? I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love.”

  A shadow formed just behind the woman—a ghostly form that I’d come to recognize as Mary. Behind me I heard Olive gasp.

  “He threw me away,” Melanie shouted. “So I killed that cow who stole him from me, took the ring that should have been mine, and buried her with him. He wanted her more than me? Fine. He could have her dead body on top of him for all eternity then.”

  A picture dropped off the wall, landing with a crash on the floor. Melanie jumped and spun around, her eyes wide. A decorative candle holder flew off the shelf and hit the woman in the arm, followed by a stapler from the desk and a vase with a fake spray of daisies in it.

  “Stop,” Melanie shrieked, covering her eyes.

  “You shot me,” Olive snarled in a voice that wasn’t her own. “You drove David to his death with your crazy stalking and you shot me. I’ll make sure you never have a moment’s peace in your life for that, make sure you rot in hell after you’re dead.”

  Suddenly the room was filled with flying objects. I ducked down to the floor while Melanie tried to bat them away, finally turning and fleeing the room.

  Olive collapsed to the floor and I hesitated, unsure whether to go to my friend or chase after Melanie.

  “Go,” Suzette shouted as she sprang forward to help Olive.

  She didn’t have to tell me twice. I took off and exited the building in time to see Melanie peel away in her car, speeding far above the ten mile per hour limit of the cemetery roads. I got in my car as well, but she’d gotten a head start on me and I wasn’t exactly a race car driver.

  Luckily, neither was Melanie. Her little Kia weaved around the turns, cutting into the grass and at one point even smashing the bumper against a grave marker. I sped up as I saw her heading for the entrance, wondering if the police would be able to put an APB out on her and catch her before she managed to ditch the car and flee the country. Just as she neared the gate, I saw an SUV block the entrance. Melanie slammed on her breaks, the Kia fishtailing to the side and smashing head-on into the iron fence.

  A man in an ill-fitting navy suit got out of the SUV, gun drawn as he demanded that Melanie step out of the car. I swear I’d never seen Miles look so darned sexy. If Violet were here now, she definitely would have said “yes” to a date with this man.

  Two sheriff’s vehicles pulled up behind the SUV. As men poured from them, I recognized Detective Norris. I eased my sedan over to the side of the road and saw Miles pull Melanie from the Kia and cuff her as he recited her Miranda rights.

  Yep, totally sexy. Not quite as sexy as Judge Beck in his courtroom with his robes and his stern gaze, but still sexy.

  With a smile, I turned my car around and headed back to the cemetery office for Olive and Suzette. We’d give our statements to the police about the confession and the letters later. Right now, we had the last bit of a graveside service to attend, and afterward we’d head over to the church for some chicken salad sandwiches, punch, and a celebration of Ford Branch’s life.

  And maybe there in the church, Sarah and DeLanie would be able to finally put the past behind them and forgive.

  Chapter 22

  “So…. how was the vacation?” I asked Daisy as I contorted myself into Kapotasana. My lackadaisical yoga practice the past week was making itself evident in my stiff muscles a
nd the pigeon pose ended up looking more like a deflated backward triangle.

  “It was good.” She smirked.

  “So I take it the sheets weren’t even creased in that second bedroom?” I huffed, wondering how Daisy could manage this pose so effortlessly. Had she been doing her yoga while in the Keys with J.T.? Or maybe their sex had involved some kinky contorted positions that were clearly beyond my abilities.

  “I slept in my own bedroom.” She chuckled. “We got pretty hot and heavy, but I wanted to wait. Let’s just say that J.T. took more cold showers in the last week then he probably has in his whole lifetime.”

  We rose, Daisy with graceful core muscle control, and me nearly toppling on the grass. Then we moved into the much more comfortable Child’s Pose.

  “Great. Is there a date you have in mind to actually do the deed with the poor man, or do you intend to lead him on indefinitely?” I asked.

  “I’m making him dinner next week and plan on having dessert go on until the morning. Don’t tell him, though. It’s a surprise.”

  As if I would tell my boss that sort of thing.

  “I hear you had an exciting week,” she commented as we moved into a plank position, then Uttanasana. “Catching a murderer and all that.”

  Detective Norris had been much quicker than I’d thought about checking the pawn shop records. Somehow that had been enough for him to get a warrant, so while we were all at a funeral, the detective and other deputies were busy searching Melanie’s house. There they found the gun—the same caliber that was used to shoot Mary. They also found lots of pictures of David. That along with the letters we’d found in Melanie’s office, plus her confession to Olive, Suzette, and me were more than enough for them to get a conviction. The woman was going to jail.

  And I hadn’t seen Mary’s ghost since. I hoped the woman was finally at rest. I hoped both she and David were finding peace together in eternity.

 

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