“Did they find her car or her purse?”
“Yes and no,” Nate said. “They found her car parked on one of the side streets near the fairgrounds. Her purse hasn’t turned up. Most of the women put their purses beneath the tables in the booths. Someone might have taken it at the end of the evening. Either they were planning to hold it for her or they planned to steal it.”
“The chief of police is convinced her death was an accident?”
Nate didn’t speak immediately, and when he did, his voice was hesitant. “Is there any reason you think it could have been anything else?”
“Not really,” Clare said. “It’s strange that she didn’t have a purse with her. Women always carry their purses, if for no other reason than to hold their car keys and lipstick. Besides, the timing of her death seems too coincidental to my meeting with her. She seemed almost frightened when I talked to her. She definitely wanted to tell me something. Now I’ll never know what it was.”
“So much has happened to you in this last week that I’m sure you’re looking at everything as if it’s all part of some conspiracy. Nothing seems to be real anymore. However, think about this. If it wasn’t an accident, what was it? Do you think someone tried to stop Margee from talking to you?”
Clare shook her head.
“Are you still there?” Nate asked.
“Yes, I’m here. I don’t know what I think. Forget I said anything.”
“I have the feeling you’re not telling me something. I hate talking on the phone. Let me get through this meeting and when I get home tonight we’ll talk about it. Okay?”
“Okay. I’m sorry I sound so psychotic. It’s been a very long week.”
“Take it easy today and have fun tonight. Maybe just having some one-on-one time with Erika will break through the barrier she’s built up. I know it’s a poor time to bring this up, but I want you to be part of my life and Erika’s too.”
Clare was surprised at how much his words meant to her. She pressed the phone against her ear as if that brought him closer. “I would like that too.”
“See you tonight,” Nate said and was gone.
Clare felt warmed by the phone call. It was hard to know at this stage where their relationship was going. She had meant it when she said she wanted to be part of his life. Erika resented her as if she too realized that her father’s interest was serious. Her time with Erika was important today and she’d have to make the most of it.
“Ithought you might like to see where your parents are buried,” Ruth said, as she drove Clare out of town. “Itasca Cemetery is a lovely place. Very restful. No pun intended.”
“It’s jarring hearing you call them my parents, although I’m not sure why. I’ve been thinking of them as Lily and Jimmy,” Clare said.
“Probably a form of protection. The word ‘parents’ is very personal and I think you’ve been trying to keep them emotionally at arm’s length.”
Ruth slowed down as they approached the entrance. They turned in and started up the hill ahead. Clare rolled down her window so that she could see clearly. Although the day was hot under a cloudless sky, the cemetery, shaded by so many large trees, felt about ten degrees cooler.
“Up here is a whole section that is Serbian Orthodox. A friend of mine was from Bosnia and she’s buried over there. I haven’t been here much. At my age, you try not to spend too much time in cemeteries.” Ruth drove to the far end of the road and pulled the car over. She got out of the car and Clare joined her as she started across the grass. “Carolyn Cain, the secretary at the cemetery office, is in my garden club. She gave me some directions and a map that shows where the graves are.”
“Watch your step, Ruth.” She grabbed the older woman’s arm as she staggered on the uneven ground.
“Take a look at this map,” she said, pulling a folded paper out of her purse. She unfolded it and held it so Clare could see it. “I’m not sure I’m holding it in the right direction. You’d think they’d put directional signs on it to help you out.”
Clare held the paper out in front of her, looking back and forth between the grave markers and the map.
“There,” she said, pointing, “see that clump of bushes. I think that’s right here on the map. Now count over three rows.”
They counted the markers and looked back at the paper.
“I think it’s upside down,” Ruth said. “See that fuzzy line? I think that indicates where the road turns and runs across the back. Yes, that’s better. Look at that circle. I think it’s that monument over there.”
Clare nodded as she looked down at the map. Holding the paper in one hand, she counted out three rows. Holding Ruth’s arm, she led her up the path. “There’s an Xon the marker at the end of this row.”
They walked along the path between the granite headstones, checking the names on each. They got to the end of the row beside thedrive leading back down to the other side of the cemetery.
“Mitrovic,” Ruth said.
“Damn. Are we reading this map wrong?”
Clare handed the map to Ruth and began to search around the last headstone. Staying on the same line, she crossed the road to a narrow band about three feet wide that ended at the wrought iron boundary fence. Here the grass was higher, not neatly mowed asthe rest of the cemetery. She brushed her foot back and forth as she walked. Two feet in from the road, she made solid contact.
“I’ve got something, Ruth.”
She leaned over and felt beneath the grass, running her hands around the rectangular shape. Pulling out chunks of grass, she uncovered the stone. The granite marker was only raised two inches above the ground. It was slightly longer than a foot across and eight inches deep. One word was etched into the stone: NEWTON.
“How very sad,” Ruth said, coming to stand beside Clare.
The single word on the granite headstone seemed almost accusatory. A lonely grave, in a lonely spot. After running away in shame, Jimmy Newton had been brought back to lie abandoned on a hilltop. Clare could feel tears well up in her eyes and she forced down the lump in her throat.
Ruth put her arm around her. “It does make him real, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. I’ve tried to keep all thoughts of him objective, but each fact I learn about Lily and Jimmy fills in a puzzle piece in the picture of them in my mind. The other night when it was raining, I thought I remembered something about my father comforting me during a storm when I was a child. In that memory I felt safe and warm in his presence. It’s hard to equate that with the idea that he’s a murderer.”
“Yes, I can see how that must be for you.” Ruth squeezed her shoulder. “One can’t change the past, you know. All you can do is learn to accept it.”
“I’m trying,” Clare said.
She knelt down and continued to pull the grass until she’d cleared an area several inches around the headstone. She brushed the dirt off the granite, running her fingertips across the letters. Satisfied, she sat back on her heels and stared down at the now fully visible marker. Bowing her head she said a silent prayer, then stood up and followed Ruth back to the car.
Ruth turned the corner, driving across the top edge of the cemetery, then turned again to coast down the hill to the front part of the cemetery. Once more she pulled close to the side of the road.
“Here’s another map, although if we find the angel monument, we shouldn’t have any trouble finding Lily’s grave.”
Clare noticed that this was an older part of the cemetery, the carvings on the tombstones blurred from years in the harsh Minnesota winters. Ruth led the way toward a tall monument of an angel with outspread wings. After looking at the names and dates on a long row of small markers, Clare stopped, calling softly to Ruth.
“These are all babies,” she said. Looking at the next row she noticed the same thing. “And all the same year.”
“It was the influenza epidemic. Babies and old people were the most susceptible. I’d forgotten about it until Carolyn reminded me. So many babies died that year
that they decided to bury them all in a circle with the guardian angel to watch over them.”
“What a lovely idea,” Clare said.
“And here is your mother’s grave,” Ruth said, stopping beside a headstone at the outer edge of the circle.
The gravestone was a four inch thick slab of polished granite, three feet wide and two feet high. Across the top was the name Newton. On the left side was etched: LILLIAN. Beneath her name was a carved lily, perhaps representing her nickname. The dates: 1959–1982 were cut in below the flower.
The right side was blank as if waiting for another death, belying the fact of the solitary grave up the hill.
The contrast between the two gravesites couldn’t have been more striking. While Jimmy’s had been overgrown and neglected, Lily’s grave was meticulously cared for. The grass was green and lush, trimmed in a perfect rectangle as if it were the framework of a bed. At the base of the marker there was a metal receptacle set in the ground below Lily’s name.
In the vase was a bouquet of fresh flowers.
S
Chapter Sixteen
“Who do you suppose put the flowers on Lily’s grave?” Clare asked Ruth as they finished ordering their lunch. “I haven’t a clue. The flowers were only a day or two old at the most.”
“Someone has been taking care of the grave. Did Lily have any more family here, beside her parents and Rose?”
“Not that I’m aware of. I never heard that there were cousins or any other extended family members in Grand Rapids. It’s clear that whoever it is was very fond of Lily. She’s been gone for twenty-five years.”
“Do you think your friend in the cemetery office would know?” Clare asked.
“I’ll definitely ask her.”
When their lunch came, Clare filled in Ruth on all that had transpired since she’d talked to her last. The older woman was most curious about Margee’s death and very sympathetic about Clare’s disappointment in not being able to find out what the woman wanted to tell her. She suggested that Clare might talk to Margee’s sister-in-law.
“According to the newspaper, the funeral will be private,” Clare said. “Aside from the brother and sister-in-law, she had only nieces and nephews. She never married and spent about fifteen years in China teaching school, then came back to Minnesota to be near her brother who is in poor health. I’ll wait a few days, and then call the sister-in-law to see if she’ll see me.”
“I wonder if this woman Margee could be the one who put the flowers at Lily’s grave. She could have stopped at the cemetery on the way to the Farm Show. If she put them there on Sunday, they would have stayed fresh.”
“She was Rose’s best friend so she probably knew Lily too.” Clare smiled across the table at her friend. “I’ll bet you that’s exactly the answer. It makes perfect sense.”
Clare felt pleased that at least one question had a reasonable answer. She’d make a note to ask Nate to call the chief of police to get the sister-in-law’s phone number. Ruth asked how things were going with Nate and she explained that she would be spending the evening with Erika.
“I’m glad you’re getting to know the child. Eleven’s a tough age,” Ruth said. “You’ll have a few hours together and should eventually have a good time. After all, she can’t sulk all evening.”
Clare tried to remember those words after she picked up Erika at Forest Lake Elementary. The girl’s expression gravitated between a blank stare and a sullen pout. Although Clare tried to engage her in conversation, her replies were monosyllablic. Totally frustrated, she drove in silence the final mile to Pastor Olli’s church where the clogging was held.
Erika disappeared into the bathroom to change her clothes; Clare wandered into the rehearsal room and was surprised to find so many people there. Apparently it was a full dress rehearsal and parents and friends had come to cheer on the dancers. Clare found her way to one of the chairs on the side where she would have a good view of the girls.
She was pleasantly surprised at how many people she knew. Bruce and Sue Young were already seated while their daughter Cindy was showing her braces to several friends who were grimacing as she talked. Several women whom Clare had met at the church dinner waved to her.
Pastor Olli was making the rounds, saying hello to the gathering. Bianca was fluttering around one girl, trying to sew a tear in thegirl’s outfit. Just before she sat down, Ed Wiklander came over to say hello. He appeared glad to see her and she didn’t detect any animosity in his manner. He introduced her to his sister, Rachel, whose twin girls, Julia and Lyla, were also in the dance group.
When the dancers came out in their costumes, the audience applauded. Clare was surprised at the number of boys who were in the class. They all looked excited and for the moment even Erika hada smile on her face. The girls’ costumes were hot pink and black. The blouse had black fur trim at the neck and the edge of the sleeves and the underside of the skirt was black. They wore several crinolines beneath their skirts, which reminded Clare of square dancing costumes. The outfits were completed with hot pink socks and white clogging shoes.
The boys were wearing black pants with hot pink shirts and black suspenders. They wore black clogging shoes.
The instructors lined the group up in two rows. There were fourteen children in all, eight girls and six boys. Erika was neither the oldest nor the youngest in the group. When she spotted Clare she gave a slight wave and then leaned over to whisper in Cindy’s ear. Grateful that she couldn’t hear the exchange, Clare sighed and sat back to watch the entertainment.
The music started. It was a country song that she’d heard on the radio and had always liked. When the group started to dance, Clare couldn’t take her eyes off them. The footwork was intricate as they tapped and glided across the floor in well-choreographed routines. It reminded her of a combination of tap dancing and Irish dancing and she found herself clapping along with the rest of the audience.
“That was fantastic, Erika,” Clare said, as she approached the girl after the rehearsal was finished. “I can’t imagine how you can makeyour feet move so quickly and not trip. Thank you so much for letting me come.”
Erika’s face flushed and she looked pleased but embarrassed at Clare’s enthusiasm.
“I’m glad you liked it,” she said. “If you’d like, I’ll introduce you to my teachers.”
“That would be lovely.”
Clare followed Erika as she made her way through the milling crowd. She introduced Clare and then excused herself so she could change. Clare congratulated the instructors and told them how much she had enjoyed the performance. Then she said hello to Bianca and Olli and stopped by to say good-bye to Ed Wiklander and his sister. Having made the full circle of the room, she returned to her chair and picked up her purse and her jacket, then waited for Erika to return.
With her costume on a hanger and her clogging shoes in a bag over her arm, Erika skipped across the floor. She smiled at Clare and appeared for once to be in a good mood, almost hyperactive. Grateful to see the girl exhilarated, she followed Erika’s dancing steps along the hall to the parking lot.
“Are you getting hungry?” Clare asked. “I think you must have worked up a big appetite. Your dad gave me directions to Good Time Pizza so we can be on our way.”
Erika put her things in the backseat and then opened the door of the passenger side, hesitating before she got in. Clare looked across the top of the car at the girl.
“Problem?” she asked.
“No-o.” Erika stopped, then started again. “It’s still early and I thought since you’re taking me out for pizza, you might like to make a stop to look at something on the way.”
Clare hesitated, not quite trusting the cheery tone of Erika’s voice. “Where do you want to stop?”
“There’s a place called the Forest History Center on the way to Bovey. They’ve got a logging camp all set up and we could walk around the buildings and I could tell you what I learned on my school trip.” Erika shrugged. “I’m not tot
ally starving yet and it would be fun to show it to you.”
“You say it’s on the way?”
“Yes. And it won’t be getting dark for ages yet.”
Since it was the first time Erika had shown any interest in her company, Clare was hesitant to say no. She looked down at her sandals and her white slacks and wished she had time to go home andchange. There was only about an hour of daylight left so they wouldn’t have to stay long.
“Since I’ve never seen a logging camp, I’d hate to miss such a perfect opportunity,” Clare said.
She climbed into the car, waiting as Erika got in and fastened her seat belt. It took only fifteen minutes to drive to the logging camp. They turned in at the sign and drove down a gravel drivewayto the parking lot. Clare’s heart sank when she realized there were no other cars in the lot and a closed sign hung on the front door of the administration building.
“I’m sorry, Erika, but the sign says it closed at five.”
Erika opened her door and jumped out. “I forgot that it closed early. But as long as we’re here, I can show you some things.”
“I don’t think so, Erika. I think that comes under the heading of trespassing.”
“Please, Clare. We won’t go into any of the buildings. I’ll just show you a couple of things and then we’ll go to dinner.”
Clare sighed and turned off the motor. “All right. Let’s make this quick. I’m really getting hungry now.”
“Oh, thanks so much. You won’t be sorry. I know lots of stuff to tell you.”
Stopping occasionally to remove gravel from her sandals, Clare followed the excited child down a trail until they came to the camp reconstruction built along the river. As they walked around the area, she was pleasantly surprised at how much Erika did know.
“This is like a camp that would have been in the woods in the winter time. That’s when they cut white pine. It’s a real strong straight tree and they cut it for masts on sailing ships. Over there isthe blacksmith’s shop. The day we were here they had a real blacksmith and he let me push on the bellows thing.”
Conspiracy of Silence Page 21
