5 Death, Bones, and Stately Homes

by Valerie S. Malmont

  Tears welled in Alice-Ann's eyes. "Please come back with me. Maybe I overlooked him." She lifted the key from the hook next to the back door,

  "Is that where the key was kept?"

  Alice-Ann nodded.

  "We shouldn't have left it there after we found the...you know"

  "But if I didn't put it back, somebody might have wondered where it was, and that would have attracted attention. And then somebody might have gone down there to see if everything was all right. And found the..."

  "I see your point. But it seems to me there are an awful lot of keys floating around Lickin Creek." I was thinking of the hundreds of keys to Trinity Evangelical Church as well as the key or keys to the springhouse.

  I followed Alice-Ann out of the house. After we looked over our shoulders to that determine nobody had seen us leave, we dashed down to the stream, slipping and sliding on the mossy steps until we reached the shelter of the little limestone building.

  "We're safe now," she said. "They can't see us down here."

  I bent over and struggled to catch my breath. "I'm too out of shape for this," I puffed, while Alice-Ann unlocked the door.

  "Come on," she urged. I stepped inside, and she slammed the door shut behind me.

  The room looked exactly the same as it had when we'd first seen it. The chairs and music stands still waited for the ghostly orchestra, which hadn't yet appeared.

  "Don't turn on the light," I warned. "Somebody might see it and come to investigate."

  "I've got a flashlight with me. Come on," Alice-Ann insisted again as she disappeared through the dark hole in the floor. Her voice was shrill, on the verge of panic. "Ouch. Be careful of that overhead beam."

  I realized Alice-Ann had bumped her head on the same beam that had slowed her down the first time we were here. I didn't want to follow her, but I also didn't like being alone in the strange room with only spiders for company, so I took a deep breath and descended the rickety staircase. My head easily cleared the beam by several inches, but I am nearly ten inches shorter than Alice-Ann.

  Alice-Ann had switched on her flashlight, so I could see her rubbing her forehead.

  I also could see that about half the rocks we'd carefully stacked up to hide the opening to the cave were strewn all over the ledge. "That's not a good sign," I said.

  She threw an exasperated look at me and pointed the flashlight beam into the hole. "Tell me he's there, Tori. Please tell me he's still there."

  I took the flashlight from her shaking hand, and ignoring all my basic survival instincts including my dread of snakes, scaled what was left of the wall and dropped into the void. The circle of light revealed nothing. Absolutely nothing.

  "Sorry to tell you this, Alice-Ann, but there's nothing here."

  Her groan of disappointment echoed off the limestone walls of the cave, but she bravely climbed in to stand beside me.

  "Oh my God. What are we going to do?" she moaned. I watched as she dropped to her knees and began to dig in the dirt with her fingers.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Maybe there was a cave-in, and he got buried...."

  I put my hands on her waist and pulled her to her feet. "He's gone," I told her. "Somebody moved the body."

  "Who, Tori, who? We were the only ones who knew the body was here. What should we do?"

  The look of panic on her face made me think she was going to pass out, and I felt bad that all I could offer was, "Call the police."

  "No!" Her cry was pure agony. "We can't. We can't tell anyone. Not until after the tour. Don't you remember you promised to keep it a secret?"

  "But that was before someone moved the body, Alice-Ann. That's a crime."

  "How about concealing a murder? That's what we did. That's got to be just as bad as moving a body. Maybe even worse. Think of how bad we will look if we report a body is missing, Tori. We'd have to admit we knew it was here before. We'd probably go to jail."

  I couldn't think of a retort. At the time I agreed to keep the discovery of the body a secret, I hadn't thought of what we'd done as a crime since the body had obviously been in the cave for such a long time, but murder was murder, and there was no statute of limitations.

  "How did you plan to break the news," I asked, "without letting on that we knew for weeks it was here?"

  "I planned to say we came here to clean up after the tour, and that's when we discovered it. Nobody would have to know how long ago we really found it."

  "I don't know. I really think we ought to confess and take the consequences."

  But Alice-Ann hadn't stopped talking. She was begging me to keep the secret a little longer. "Just till after the tour. Please, Tori. Then I'll do whatever you say. But think of all the precious cats that will have to die if we don't raise any money. There's Ben, and Tiger, and Casper, and Shadow And the dear little dogs, Harry, Lacey, Sadie, and the twin husky puppies, and..."

  "Stop. Please." I covered my ears. "I don't want to be responsible for what would happen to the animals."

  Alice-Ann's worried frown had disappeared now that she knew she had me convinced. "Thanks, Tori."

  "There's something we haven't talked about that we have to consider, though."

  "What's that?"

  "We have to think about who moved the body. Even though we did a fairly good job of replacing those stones, that wall didn't look the same as it did before we knocked it down. So someone who knew the body was in there must have noticed and had reason to fear its discovery."

  Alice-Ann's hands flew to her mouth. "You mean the killer, don't you?"

  I nodded. "And since everyone in town knew you and I were here looking the place over a few weeks ago, the killer would assume we were the ones who'd been in the cave. He could be coming after us right now, to keep us quiet."

  As if to prove me right, from overhead came a creaking sound. Alice-Ann grabbed my hand and pointed above us in alarm. "The door," she whispered.

  "Shhh," I cautioned. I grabbed the flashlight from her dangling hand and switched it off.

  We heard footsteps now, coming down the wooden staircase, drawing closer and closer to us.

  We pressed our backs against the limestone wall. I prayed for it to open up and swallow us, but no such luck. I also prayed there would be no rattlesnakes nesting in crevices behind me.

  A bright light shone through the opening, played on the back wall, then moved slowly across the ground to where we stood. Terror stopped my breath.

  "There you are," Mrs. Houdeyshell said. "I thought I saw you two heading in this direction."

  My breath whooshed out of me as my knees turned to jelly, a reaction to relief.

  "What is this? A cave? Why are there rocks scattered everywhere?" She directed the flashlight to my face, nearly blinding me. "The springhouse isn't supposed to be open to the public." Her voice grew shriller and more and more irate as she threw questions at us. "Did the place look like this when you came down here? Is this your work, Tori Miracle? What have you done? How could you?"

  Funny how a local person finding Alice-Ann and me in a cave with our backs against a wall and the ruins of the entrance around our feet would immediately put the blame on me. But it wasn't a surprise, since I was the outsider who had singlehandedly destroyed such landmarks as the historical society and the courthouse, prevented the low-level nuclear waste dump from bringing prosperity to the valley, and murdered that beloved congressman Mack Macmillan by my irresponsible sponsorship of a Civil War reenactment.

  Alice-Ann squeezed my hand reassuringly and spoke up. "It looked like this when we came down," she said truthfully.

  "Maybe there was an earthquake," I offered.

  "Come out of there right now The ladies are on the trolley, waiting for you."

  We climbed out and apologized, but she paid no attention to our excuses. "I'll have to send for someone to repair this," was all she said.

  "I'll pay for it," Alice-Ann said.

  "I'm sure you will."

  The women on
the trolley greeted us with outraged silence as we boarded. We were both covered with dirt, Alice-Ann's skirt was torn from climbing over the rocks, and most of her fingernails were broken. Guilt, both real and imagined, bowed my shoulders as I trudged to the back of the bus.

  Mrs. Houdeyshell stood next to the driver, counting heads, and it suddenly occurred to me that despite her fuss over discovering us in the springhouse, despite all her angry questions about who was in the cave and demanding to know who had made the mess, she had never asked us why we were there. That struck me as exceedingly odd. If I came upon two women cowering in a cave in the basement of a springhouse, the first thing I'd ask is why. I suddenly realized that despite the simple cotton dress, the gray hair neatly pulled into a bun and covered with a white net bonnet, and the steel-rimmed glasses, she was a very strong woman, with the broad shoulders and muscular arms of an active farmer. The kind of woman who would have no trouble moving a body.

  Then I remembered that what remained of Rodney Mellott really wasn't a body at all, but simply some bones held together by an old polyester tuxedo. Rodney probably didn't weigh more than a couple of pounds now, if that.

  Ten

  After everything that had happened today, I nearly forgot I had a date with Haley Haley, the knight in shining armor who'd defended my honor at the Waffle Shoppe. But Ethelind hadn't forgotten. Apparently she had my date marked on her kitchen calendar, which showed how rare it was for me to go out. She took one look at my bedraggled appearance and ordered me to hurry upstairs and get ready. "He should be here in an hour."

  I wasn't particularly excited about the date, but since it had been more than a year since I'd gone out with anyone other than Garnet I had to start somewhere. I decided to dress with care. It wouldn't hurt to make a good impression.

  Ethelind had a fine collection of English lotions and potions that she'd told me I was welcome to use. I never had, but today I splashed a few drops of Pure English Lavender Oil into my bath. Afterwards I used her English Soothing Foot Balm Blended with Witch Hazel and Peppermint to scrub some of the dead skin off my feet and finished with an Oil of Roses Face and Body Cream that Ethelind claimed was responsible for her peaches-and-cream complexion.

  As I pulled on pantyhose for the first time in months, I noticed that they were a wee bit tight. In fact, I could barely tug them up over my hips. It couldn't possibly be that I'd put on a few pounds from a steady diet of Pennsylvania Dutch cooking? Of course not. I was always careful to begin every meal with a salad. The pantyhose must have shrunk in the wash.

  I wasn't quite sure what to wear, but finally decided on a sleeveless navy blue linen shift with white trim at the neck. It had been my favorite summertime "dating" dress in the city. I put it on and studied myself in the mirror. Absolutely perfect, I thought. Its simple lines were sophisticated but certainly couldn't be considered too citified, even by Lickin Creek standards.

  A pair of pretty white shoes with straps and two-inch heels nearly completed my ensemble. All I needed was a white purse. I was tired of being thought of as that "New York gal," when what I really wanted was to blend in. Matching shoes and handbag would help. I flung open one dresser drawer after another until I found one I'd bought on sale at Bloomingdale's in another lifetime.

  Not bad, I thought, as I spun around in front of the pier mirror in my bedroom. Then I paused, mid-spin. Was that a protruding tummy I saw? It was, despite the control-top pantyhose, and I solemnly vowed to start a diet tomorrow.

  "Nice," Ethelind grunted when I entered the kitchen. "Do you want to borrow a sweater? Your arms might get cold. And be careful in those shoes, you're liable to break your neck. I never wear anything but sensible shoes, myself. When I was in London, I walked all the way from Marble Arch to-"

  Mercifully, the doorbell interrupted her.

  "Good-bye," I said, grabbing my purse.

  "Better leave me a number where you can be reached."

  "I haven't any idea where we're going," I said gaily. Instead of being annoyed, I found it rather flattering that she cared enough to worry about me.

  "Don't wait up," I warned. "There's no telling what time we'll be home."

  "Ten o'clock," Ethelind said. "You'll be home by ten, ten-thirty at the latest. There's nothing to do in Lickin Creek past ten."

  I could think of several things I hadn't done in a long while, but I simply smiled and left the kitchen.

  By the time I'd trekked through the pantry, the dining room, the library, the billiard room, the music room, and several parlors, and finally reached the entry hall, I was limping and wished I had worn the sensible shoes Ethelind had suggested. But it was too late to hobble back upstairs now Through the glass panel on the left side of the front door, I could see my date waiting on the porch.

  I squared my shoulders and flung open the door.

  The welcoming smile on my face froze. Why was Haley wearing black leather motorcycle chaps and matching leather jacket? Certainly he didn't expect me to ride on a motorcycle. I looked over his shoulder to see if there was a motorcycle in the driveway, and what I saw made me wish there was.

  "What is that?" I demanded.

  He turned around to look as if he had no idea what I was talking about. That's when I saw that the back of his jacket had a cartoonlike painting on it of a man looking through bars and below it the caption JAILBIRDS FOR JESUS.

  "Oh...that! " he said, as if he was seeing for the first time the gigantic eighteen-wheeled truck parked in the road. "That's my semi," he said. "Shall we go?"

  He offered me his arm, which I was too dazed to reject. If I'd been in my right mind I would have twirled on one of my white heels and disappeared right back into the house. But I didn't.

  As my father used to say, "If you had brains, Tori, you'd be dangerous."

  It got worse. As we walked toward the semi, I saw that the trailer had a small cupola with a white cross on it, and painted on the side of the trailer were the words JUMPIN' AND JIVIN' FOR JESUS."

  "Oh my..." I whispered.

  "Wait a minute," he said. "I want you to see this." He swung himself into the cab and flicked a switch. Immediately, little white Christmas lights lit up the cross.

  Looking up at him in the gigantic truck, I said, "Haley, I'm not sure I want to do this."

  I meant, I wasn't sure I wanted to go on a date with him, but he must have thought I was hesitant about climbing up into the cab of his truck. He jumped down, took my hand, and led me around to the passenger side of the truck. "Just grab hold of that bar on your right, and I'll give you a boost."

  As if I were in a dream, no, make that a nightmare, I let myself be shoved through the door of the truck. When I'd recovered my balance and some of my dignity, I looked around the cab. I'd never been in a semitrailer before, but I had been in the cockpit of a transcontinental jet, and this setup of dials, levers, and knobs looked almost as complicated. One thing I was sure of, no dummy could drive one of these.

  He put the truck into gear and slowly moved around Ethelind's circular driveway. "You look awfully nice," he said. "Lots better than you did earlier. And you smell good, too."

  I thanked him, pleased that my extra effort had been noticed.

  With me scrunched down in the front seat so nobody I knew would see me, he drove his church on wheels through the historic district. Passing Garnet Gochenauer's family home, I felt the familiar pang of loneliness I'd felt so often since we broke up. I hoped I wasn't becoming obsessive, but I couldn't help thinking what my life would be like if we'd stayed together. Certainly, I wouldn't be barreling down Lickin Creek's brick streets with an ex-convict. There was safety in a steady relationship. That was something I hadn't realized in my youth, which had lasted in fact right up till last year, but of course I was much older and wiser now.

  While I was philosophizing internally, Haley suddenly began to downshift, eliciting groans of protest from under his enormous vehicle.

  "What's the matter?" I sat higher in the seat so I could peer thro
ugh the window at what was going on.

  "The borough's got its bulky trash pickup crew out. I can't get by. We'll have to wait."

  It seemed to take forever before the truck stopped.

  Haley said, "It takes a full football field-length to bring one of these big rigs to a stop." The truck groaned and stopped only a foot or so away from another large vehicle, this one with a giant metal bucket on the front.

  "What is it?"

  "It's the borough's front loader."

  From my vantage point I had a great view of the front loader. Its enormous scoop reached down to the sidewalk, where it caught up a sofa, several cardboard boxes, and a sled with only one runner. The scoop lifted everything high into the air, swung back toward the street, and dropped the items into the bed of a pickup truck.

  "You'd think somebody could use that stuff," I remarked.

  "It's all been thoroughly picked over. Anything good has found a home. I found a couple nice chairs myself this week."

  "For your apartment?"

  "I don't have an apartment. I live here."

  "In your truck?"

  "Sure. There's a bed right here in the cab, behind us. Why pay rent for some place I wouldn't spend any time in? I'm either on the road driving a big rig for someone, or I'm taking the church to one truck stop or another."

  I slumped into my seat. Not only an ex-con, but one who was homeless. Could I sink any lower?

  In an effort to break the awkward silence and find some common ground, I asked Haley where he was from. That brought forth a five-minute description of a small town in West Virginia, which actually sounded rather charming.

  "And where were you in jail?" I asked.

  "How did you know...? Oh, I nearly forgot my jacket. I was in Graterford State Correctional Institute, outside of Philadelphia."

  I must have looked ignorant, because he explained, "It's Pennsylvania's largest maximum-security prison. And I already know the next question you're going to ask, so I'll ask it for you. What was I in for? I was caught dealing cocaine. Took the rap for the big guys, who never get caught. I'd probably be dead now if I hadn't been incarcerated. That's where I found Jesus. He saved my life."