A tall, slender man with silver hair slipped through the crowd and joined them. He had a distinguished air in spite of the fact that he wore sandals and Bermuda shorts in deference to the heat. He held tightly to a leash attached to the collar of a black and tan dog with a white patch of fur over one eye. He turned to the demonstrators. “Please don’t blame the Mayor. She’s absolutely right. You all know I’m the one man who refused to vote for this disgusting project, but I was outnumbered. You know that.”
“We know, Ed,” a burly man called out. “And we know where the rest of the people on the council live, too. Maybe we oughta pay ’em all a visit. Believe me, none of ’em will have our vote at the next election.” A few voices called out their agreement.
Lucky realized the tall man had to be Edward Embry, now a local hero for attempting to stop the car wash project. He turned back to Lucky and Elizabeth with a mischievous smile on his face. “What do you say we climb through the fence and see what’s going on? At least we won’t be pushed around in there.”
“Good idea. I am curious,” Elizabeth responded. “Oh, please excuse my manners. Lucky, this is Edward Embry, who’s on our town council. Ed, Lucky Jamieson owns the By the Spoonful Soup Shop.”
Lucky extended her hand. “Very nice to meet you.”
“And you too.” He shook the proffered hand. “And this is Cicero. He seems to like you.”
Lucky reached down to pat Cicero’s head. The dog’s tail wagged furiously. “That’s an unusual name.” Lucky smiled up at Edward while Cicero planted a wet kiss on her hand.
“He talks a lot. I thought the name was appropriate.” Edward’s face had a rather careworn expression, but Lucky noted the sparkle in his eyes when he looked at Elizabeth.
Nate’s deputy, Bradley Moffitt, now guarded the opening in the fence. He pulled the fence back for the Mayor and the town councilman. Bradley was proud of his law enforcement credentials and could be insufferably pompous at times. Lucky was afraid he’d try to bar her, but he said nothing as she followed Elizabeth onto the site.
Lucky heard her name called and turned around. Rowena Nash stood at the opening, waving to her, obviously wanting to be admitted to the site. Lucky sighed. Rowena had the knack of always turning up when she was least wanted. Smiling provocatively at Bradley, Rowena put her hand on his arm, obviously pleading with him to let her through. Bradley pulled himself up to his full height of five feet seven inches in an attempt to look authoritative. Lucky watched the exchange. Bradley didn’t stand a chance. Rowena smiled wider, and with a last caress to Bradley’s arm, scrambled through the opening. Bradley gallantly held back the fence for her. Rowena was breathless as she caught up with them.
“Okay if I tag along?”
Elizabeth turned around. “Rowena, you shouldn’t be here.”
“But I want to write this up for the Gazette. This is news!”
“That might not be such a good idea. Can you wait a bit until we have more information?”
“We can’t just ignore this. It’s intriguing. I promise to just stick to the facts if you promise to share what you figure out. Deal?” Rowena smiled ingratiatingly.
Lucky could see the shifting emotions on Elizabeth’s face. Rowena was beside herself at the prospect of actually having a novel story to cover, but Elizabeth was unwilling to totally trust Rowena’s word.
Elizabeth shrugged. “All right. As long as Nate doesn’t kick you out. Just remember, it’s an investigation. I want your solemn promise you won’t submit anything until Nate or I give it an okay.”
“I promise.” Rowena nodded seriously.
“All right then. Follow us. Let’s see if we can find out what’s happening.”
Rowena dutifully followed Elizabeth, Edward Embry and Lucky to the group standing over the depression.
Nate was kneeling on the ground, gently moving clumps of dirt away with his hands. “Somebody have a clean brush?” he asked without looking up. One of the workers hurried away and returned a few moments later, brush in hand. Nate grabbed it, gently sweeping off another layer of dirt. He uttered an oath and stood up. The shape was unmistakable. An eye socket displaying a long tendril of tree root peered blindly from the earth. Nate had uncovered a skull.
Chapter 6
“ELIZABETH.” NATE NODDED to the Mayor. “We’re gonna need some help. I’m not sure what we have here. Judging by the color of the bone, I suspect this must be very old.” Nate noticed Rowena and frowned. He looked as though he intended to order her from the site.
Elizabeth caught Nate’s expression. “I gave Rowena permission. She’s promised not to submit anything until you or I approve it.”
Nate shrugged his shoulders. “Good enough.” He took off his cap and scratched his head. “I’m waiting for Elias. He should be here any minute.”
A door slammed in the distance and Richard Rowland, his expensive shoes now covered with lumps of mud, stormed out of the construction trailer and charged toward Nate. “I want that damn thing out of here.” He attempted to take an authoritative pose, but his highly polished shoe stuck in the mud. He tripped and stumbled, quickly righting himself.
“Calm down, Mr. Rowland,” Nate responded. “It will be. Just as soon as we have it looked at.”
“That’s not good enough,” he hissed. “I have workers here. I’m on a tight schedule and I have to complete this on time. I need to know when I can start work again. And you!” He pointed at Edward Embry, who had remained silent until now. “What do you think you’re doing on my site?”
Edward’s expression was grim. “You know damn well why I’m here. I’m going to make sure we see the last of you in this town.”
“Are you threatening me?” Rowland stuck his chin out, his voice rising in pitch.
“Take that any way you want,” Edward replied calmly. Something in his tone caused Rowland to take a step back.
Horace cleared his throat and addressed the developer. “Sir, I don’t think you understand. This is something the coroner will have to examine, and if this is very old, the anthropologists will also have to have a look. Perhaps this site is an old burial ground. If these bones turn out to be Native American remains, that’s a whole different kettle of fish. They’re protected by the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act. And, at the very least, someone will certainly need to contact the Vermont Division for Historic Preservation.”
Rowland ignored Horace. “You!” He pointed in Nate’s direction. “I asked you a question!”
Nate took a deep breath, struggling to remain patient. He turned and shot Rowland a withering look. “Your schedule is not my concern. My concern is dealing with these human remains, so I suggest you go right back to your trailer and I’ll let you know when you can resume work. Is that clear enough?”
“Like hell it is. I own this parcel and what I say goes. I want that thing out of here and I intend to continue this project.”
Nate’s eyes narrowed. Rowland was treading on dangerous ground. “Mr. Rowland—understand this—it is against state law to disturb burial sites of any kind. It doesn’t matter if it’s privately held land. Until we investigate further, you can consider your project shut down.”
“You can’t do that!”
“I just did, Mr. Rowland.”
“You’ll hear from my lawyers.”
“You do that. You give them a call. I’m sure they’ll tell you the very same thing.” Nate, seemingly unperturbed by Rowland’s outburst, turned back to the bones in the earth.
Rowena had foolishly positioned herself in front of Rowland before he could move away. “Excuse me. I wonder if you could give me a few minutes for an interview for the Gazette. At your convenience, of course.” She smiled broadly, completely ignoring the heated altercation that had just taken place between the two men.
Rowland stared at her for a long minute and then, without a word, turned on his heel and strode back to his construction trailer, his dignity compromised once again by the mud.
Horace spotted Elias coming through the fence and waved to him. “Over here, Elias.” Carrying a heavy black bag, Elias hurried over to join their small group. Dr. Elias Scott was not only the head of the Snowflake Clinic but the county coroner.
“I got here as soon as I could, Nate. Full house this morning.” He passed Lucky, and reached out to squeeze her hand quickly. She smiled in return. Then he bent down next to the partially uncovered skull and whistled softly. A tiny flake of black material started to lift in the breeze. Elias grabbed a pair of tweezers from his bag and pushed it back into its original position. No one spoke. Elias continued to stare at the remains and said nothing.
Finally, Nate broke the silence. “What do you think, Elias? How long has this been in the ground?”
Elias stood and brushed off his clothes. “This is extremely old, Nate. Look at the pitting and discoloration of the bone tissue. The surface is heavily flaked and abraded. I’m sure the mandible has separated from the skull. All the material has rotted away of course, although there could be tiny fragments underneath.”
“Any guess as to whether this skeleton is Native American?”
“You’d need to take cranial metrics to determine that. I don’t want to jump the gun, but judging by the shape of the skull and eye sockets, I’d say offhand this skeleton is Caucasoid.”
“Can you tell how long it’s been here?”
Elias turned and smiled. “Oh, my guess is a very, very long time. There’s mineralization on that bone, and you’ll find more tree roots as you dig down. There’s no way of telling if there’s a complete skeleton there. Obviously the site’s been disturbed already. Maybe there’ll be a lot of difficulty if the bones have bonded with the soil. That can be like extracting them from concrete. Animals could have carried off some of the bones too. You’ll need to notify the University. This is something the forensic anthropologists should look at.” Elias replaced the tweezers in a side pocket of his bag. “Don’t think I can be of much use here, but I’ll be at the Clinic if anyone needs me.”
Lucky hated to admit it, but she felt a thrill every time Elias was near. Had she fallen in love? Probably, she thought, head over heels. She only hoped it was returned as deeply. She walked with him back to the opening in the fence. “You think this might have been an old burial ground?”
He shook his head. “I really don’t know. That’s for the anthropologists to decide, but my guess is no. I don’t see any remnant of a casket. If he was shrouded, that material would have completely rotted away. If he was a victim of war he might have been buried in a hurry. I’ll be curious to hear what the experts have to say.”
He touched her arm lightly and a thrill ran through her. “I’ll give you a call tonight.” He turned and crossed Water Street, heading across the Village Green to return to the Clinic. Lucky watched him until he reached Broadway then she returned to the group at the gravesite.
Horace was elated at the discovery. “I knew it. I just knew it. I know some people at Bennington. I can make some calls. I’m sure they’ll get here as soon as they can.”
“You’re just the man,” Nate replied. “Now, it’s getting on in the day. We’ll have to erect a small tent over this,” he said, indicating the pile of bones. “I doubt it’ll be raining tonight, but I don’t want anyone poking around.”
“Perhaps we can form a little team. Myself. Jack?” Horace looked questioningly at Jack.
Jack nodded his agreement. “Hank and Barry will donate some time, I’m sure.”
“We can split it up into four-hour increments. We should camp out here and make sure no one disturbs anything,” Horace responded.
“Good. My deputy can do a shift too. You men work it out with him.”
Lucky said, “I’ll send one of the girls over with a basket of sandwiches and drinks. Jack, can you help me with that?” Her grandfather had always insisted she call him by his name. He cringed at the thought of any title he thought was for old men. He wasn’t ever going to be old and insisted he always be called “Jack.”
“Sure will, my girl. Right now, it’s just about five bells.”
Barry smiled. “What he said . . .”
“He means it’s two thirty.” As a young girl Lucky had learned to tell time Navy style, thanks to Jack. It was second nature to her now, especially when she was talking to her grandfather.
Jack ignored Barry’s comment. “Barry, why don’t you take the first watch while Horace calls the University, and I’ll be back with some food and a couple of folding chairs.” Barry nodded in agreement and plopped down awkwardly on a small piece of discarded plywood.
Nate said, “I’ll send Bradley to the station and have him bring back something we can use as a kind of a tent. Or maybe the workmen have some tarps. We’ll figure it out.”
Most of the crowd had dissipated by the time everyone climbed back through the fence and reached the sidewalk on Water Street. Lucky realized that Edward Embry had slipped away after his confrontation with the developer. Bradley had already left for the police station, and Lucky and Elizabeth were the last ones to leave the site, other than Barry, who sat cross-legged at attention.
Jack was waiting for them on the sidewalk. He nodded to Elizabeth and then turned to Lucky. “I’ll head back to the Spoonful and get some sandwiches ready.”
“I’ll catch up in a minute, Jack. Sage and the girls are there. I’m sure they’re fine, but they’ll wonder what happened to us.”
Jack hurried away while Lucky strolled slowly across the Village Green with Elizabeth. Since Elizabeth Dove had been elected Mayor, her schedule was tight. Lucky didn’t often have a chance for an impromptu chat with her. She had always felt close to the older woman, as though she were an aunt, but now, with her mother gone, the connection with Elizabeth had grown deeper. Elizabeth had never married or had children of her own. She thought of Lucky as the daughter she never had, especially now that Lucky’s parents were gone.
“I’ll never be able to figure that out.” Elizabeth smiled.
“What’s that?” Lucky asked.
“Telling time by the bells.”
“Oh—it’s very simple really. You see, the day is divided into six sections and each section into eight time frames . . .”
“Enough!” Elizabeth covered her ears. “I’ll never get it. Save your breath.” She burst out laughing.
“Just don’t try to tell Jack the time using any other method.” Lucky linked her arm through Elizabeth’s as they walked. “Edward Embry seems like a very nice man.” She watched Elizabeth to gauge her reaction. “I think he’s a little sweet on you.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Once, perhaps.”
“Once?” Lucky felt as if she had trod on a private area. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
Elizabeth smiled. “That’s quite all right.” She glanced at Lucky’s concerned expression. “Really, it’s all right. You weren’t prying. Besides, it’s no secret. A long time ago . . .” Elizabeth trailed off. She was silent for a few moments. “A long time ago . . . oh,” Elizabeth laughed. “More than twenty years ago now, that might have been possible, but it just didn’t work out. Edward has had a very sad life. He lost a child years ago, and his wife shortly after. It didn’t work out for the two of us, but we’re on good terms. He devotes all his time now to town business.”
Lucky glanced back at the group still inside the chain-link fence. Barry and two of Rowland’s workers were erecting a rather efficient tent out of boards and plastic sheeting. A movement next to the fence caught her eye. She stopped to get a better look.
Elizabeth turned as well. “What is it?”
“I . . . somebody there, on the other side of the fence. Not where the men are standing. See?” Lucky indicated a huddled figure, wrapped in a loose coat, at the far end of the site.
“Oh . . . how strange.” Elizabeth followed Lucky’s gaze. “That’s Maggie. Maggie Harkins. I didn’t think she ever came into town anymore. That poor soul. How strange it is . .
. to see them all here again after so many years . . .”
“I’ve never seen her. Who is she?”
“She’s a dreadful creature who should be put away.” Lucky jumped involuntarily at the harsh voice. Cordelia Rank blocked their path. Cordelia was dressed in a spotless white skirt and a linen navy jacket. Her two-toned shoes and purse coordinated perfectly with her outfit.
“Now, Cordelia. Try to have some compassion, for heaven’s sake,” Elizabeth replied.
“Compassion?” Cordelia’s voice had risen. “If this town had compassion, she’d be locked up and cared for. That would be the humane thing to do—not allowing her to wander the roads and the town at all hours doing who knows what. Why, she’s not fit to take care of herself. Look at the way she’s dressed.”
“Please keep your voice down. I wouldn’t want her to hear you.”
“Someone has to take charge of her. She’s obviously dotty.”
“On what grounds would you suggest we do that? She may not meet your strict standards, but she bothers no one. She has her own home and income. Frankly, Cordelia, it really is none of your business if Maggie Harkins chooses to wander the town looking disheveled.”
“People like that”—Cordelia’s lip curled—“make our town look bad. As you must know, my ancestor was a Vermont militiaman and this is a very important celebration for me and my sisters. I have several guests from the Daughters of the American Revolution arriving for our Reenactment of the Battle and it simply creates the wrong impression.”
“I realize that, Cordelia, and I’m sorry Maggie doesn’t meet with your approval, but whether the DAR approves of her or not, she is a resident of Snowflake and has committed no crime. She needs to be left in peace.”
Cordelia glared at Elizabeth, while Elizabeth maintained a calm and reasonable composure, letting her words sink in. Cordelia’s cheeks were flushed, and she was obviously chagrined that Elizabeth had bucked her. She turned on a pristine heel and headed toward the white-steepled church at the end of the Green.
A Broth of Betrayal Page 4
