Murder Among Crows

by B. T. Lord

  She laughed. “For a trained police officer, sometimes you are such a weenie.”

  “Because I hate the sight of rotten food? Who in their right mind loves going through moldy banana peels and black tomatoes?”

  “It may be disgusting, but sometimes it’s well worth it. Like right now. Come over here and take a look at this.”

  Rick looked over her shoulder at the one of the bags she was holding open and caught his breath. “Holy crap!” he exclaimed.

  “Exactly. And those other two bags have the same contents.”

  The two officers stared down at hundreds of book pages savagely ripped out from their bindings. Many were torn into pieces, while others had been defaced by a black marker. However, despite the vicious destruction, there was no mistaking where the pages had come from. They were all from the Magic Calico books.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “No wonder she wanted to get home so badly,” Rick said as they gathered all the bags with the torn and ripped pages and piled them into the back of the Explorer. “She needed to make sure these bags were gone if and when we decided to come up here.”

  “I agree. Let’s go talk to the neighbors. They’re close enough to her house that they might have an insight into Meredith’s state of mind.”

  They started with the house immediately to the right of Meredith’s and worked their way around. Most agreed that Meredith was a quiet, shy neighbor who always had a wave and a smile whenever they crossed paths. She wasn’t, however, the kind who stopped off for a cup of coffee or invited anyone over for the same. She was polite, but somewhat distant. When shown a photograph of Poppie, the majority of the neighbors claimed they’d never seen her. It wasn’t until they were shown into the home of the neighbor directly across the street from Meredith that they hit pay dirt.

  Edith Spencer was 82 years old. Her wrinkled, proud face showed a life that hadn’t always been easy, but one that she’d lived with dignity and self-sufficiency. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she sat across from the officers. Cammie immediately took a liking to her.

  Sitting in her armchair with her cane leaning up against her leg, she carefully studied the photo of Poppie.

  “I consider myself the neighborhood watchdog,” she laughed. “Ain’t much else for me to do with my knee being as bad as it is. Can’t get around like I used to. So I make up for it by making sure our little patch of Heaven is safe. In answer to your question regarding this nice looking lady, I can count on my hand how many times she visited Meredith. They weren’t long visits either. Most of them took place about three months ago. Then she showed up last week and she and Meredith drove off.” She handed back the photo. “What happened to her?”

  “She was murdered in Twin Ponds.”

  Edith raised an eyebrow. “You think Meredith had something to do with it?”

  “It’s standard operating procedure to interview everyone who knew the victim. We’re just gathering background information on Meredith.” Edith nodded. “Did Meredith go out often?”

  “Well, during the summer, she’d be out just about every day. She’d have on that vest with all the pockets and always wore a set of binoculars around her neck. I know she liked to look at birds, so I reckon that’s where she went to. Plenty of birds to see around here, you know.”

  “Did you notice a change in Meredith’s demeanor within the last few weeks?”

  The old woman tapped her chin with her finger. “Can’t say that I have.”

  “Was Poppie the only visitor she had?” Rick asked.

  “I knew Meredith’s people. They were always polite, but kept to themselves. She took after them in that respect.” Cammie and Rick thanked her and were about to leave when she added, “There is, of course, that man who used to visit her several times a month.”

  The two officers turned back to her. “A man?” Cammie asked.

  “That’s right. He always showed up just as it was getting dark. It made me wonder about the nature of that relationship. If it was above board, they’d have no problem going out during the day, but it never happened. Now I hate to be a gossip, but I suspect that man was married.”

  “Can you recall when he first showed up?”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Well, I first noticed him about six years ago. I know because that was the year my grandson graduated high school. He continued to visit until about three months ago. In fact, it was soon after he stopped visiting that the woman in your photo started showing up.”

  “Do you know what he looked like?”

  “Well, as I said, it was dusk when he’d arrive. And it always seemed to be on a Tuesday or a Thursday night. He’d stay for about 3-4 hours, then I’d know he was leaving because I’d hear the car door slam again and hear him drive past my house. About two years ago, I was out walking my dog Barney when he arrived. I didn’t get a clear look at him, but I do know he was a little shorter than you, Sheriff. When Meredith opened the door, I saw that he was bald on top with dark hair on the side. He wasn’t overweight, but he wasn’t skinny either. About average.”

  Cammie took out a publicity photo of Aubrey and showed it to her. “Is this who you saw?”

  “Yes, that’s him.”

  “Was it every Tuesday and Thursday he showed up?” Rick asked.

  The old woman shook her head. “Sometimes two weeks would go by before I’d hear his car drive up. But it was never on a Monday or a Friday or a Saturday. It was always on a Tuesday and/or Thursday.” She peered at Cammie. “I hope I’m not getting Meredith into any trouble by answering your questions.”

  “No, not at all. You’ve been very helpful.”

  “Would you like a cup of tea? I can easily put the kettle on. I also made some lemon poppy cake. I’m not bragging when I say folks around here love my lemon poppy cake.”

  Cammie felt the woman’s loneliness tug at her. She hadn’t noticed any dog when she and Rick arrived, and she guessed Edith’s only companion had passed.

  “That’s very kind of you, Edith, but we have one more stop before making the long drive back to Twin Ponds.” She quickly looked away from the disappointment in the elderly woman’s eyes. “Thank you again for your assistance.”

  As soon as they were back in their vehicle, Rick said, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but it sure looks as though Aubrey and Meredith were doing the horizontal.”

  “It sounds like it.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t get it. Mrs. Gardiner is a knock out. Meredith looks like a stick figure.”

  Cammie chuckled. “I know it’s hard for you to understand this, but it isn’t always about looks.”

  “I’m not that shallow!” he protested, adding a few moments later in a small voice, “Am I?”

  “If they were having an affair and Aubrey broke it off, it would explain the ripped and torn pages of his books we found in her garbage. There’s also a lot of coincidences occurring around the same three month mark.”

  “I noticed that,” Rick concurred. “He stops coming to see Meredith three months ago. Poppie pays a bunch of visits three months ago. Aubrey starts looking for a house three months ago.”

  “Does that mean Poppie knew about the affair and came to offer comfort?”

  “It makes you wonder just what they talked about at that dinner the night before Poppie was killed,” Rick replied thoughtfully.

  “Whatever it was, I can just about guarantee it wasn’t about birds. At least we now know why Aubrey had the dinner without his wife there. It would have been awkward sitting at a same dinner table with your wife and your ex-mistress.”

  “Who looks as though she’s ready to have a melt-down at any moment.” Rick paused. “Do you think the end of the affair is what prompted Aubrey to move to Twin Ponds?”

  “That makes more sense than his cock and bull story about finding the perfect farmhouse and getting away from his fans.”

  Cammie picked up her cell and speed dialed Emmy.

  “Twin Ponds Sher
iff Department,” the young woman answered.

  “Emmy, it’s Cammie. Can you check to see if anything significant has happened in Aubrey Gardiner’s life within the last six months, besides the move to Twin Ponds? It could be personal, it could be professional. I’m not sure which yet.”

  “Will do.”

  “What was that all about?” Rick asked as she hung up.

  “Just ruling out the possibility of any external reason that caused the break-up between Meredith and Aubrey.” She punched in the next address they were headed to into the GPS system. As she pulled out of the driveway, she glanced back at the house and saw Edith at the window. Before she could stop herself, she lifted her hand and gave the woman a wave who promptly waved back. “If she wasn’t so old, I’d get her another dog,” Cammie murmured under her breath as she pulled out onto the road.

  “Old age ain’t no place for sissies.” When she gave him a quizzical look, he added, “It’s a quote by Bette Davis. I read it on the internet somewhere.”

  She shook her head and turned her focus back to the investigation. “Thanks to our find in those garbage bins, we know our little mouse has a temper. Whatever it was that triggered Meredith’s rage, it was enough to make her destroy, if not Aubrey himself, then the one thing that meant something to him. His claim to fame, his legacy, if you will.”

  “Where does Poppie fit into all of this?”

  “My gut tells me Poppie knew about the affair. Maybe she was pushing Meredith to come clean with Veronica. Or maybe she and Aubrey got involved. Meredith found out about it and in a fit of jealousy killed Poppie. Remember, she’s the only one so far who’s admitted knowing exactly where Poppie was going to be, and what time she’d be there. She had the perfect opportunity. Now we just need to nail down a motive.”

  Rick glanced out the window. “I’m still having a hard time wrapping my mind around Meredith and Aubrey doing the horizontal.”

  “Do you remember when we had the two of them together in the conference room back at the inn?” Rick nodded. “Did you happen to notice that Meredith wouldn’t look at him? They said nothing to each other. It was as if there were two complete strangers in that room.”

  “Now that you mention it, I do remember that.”

  “I didn’t give it much thought at the time, but if they were involved and it ended badly, it makes perfect sense why they wouldn’t give each other the time of day. It also explains Meredith’s reaction when I offered to have Aubrey identify Poppie’s body. She became angry and adamant that she’d be the one to do it. A logical response regarding someone you’ve come to loathe.”

  Their last stop in Mategwas was to the home of Kevin Baker. As the other member of Poppie’s bird watching group, he might be able to shed some light, not only on the victim, but on the relationships between the three.

  Kevin lived in a turn of the century yellow clapboard house. There were three floors, with a columned porch adorning the front of the home. Behind the house stood a large red barn. Parked between the house and the barn, a dark gray Ram truck sat with its tailgate open.

  They got of the Explorer and walked up the short brick paved walkway to the porch. They rang the doorbell and a few moments later, the door opened. A tall, white haired man wearing a pair of jeans and a red and black flannel shirt greeted them.

  “I’m Sheriff Cammie Farnsworth, and this is my deputy Rick Belleveau. Are you Kevin Baker?”

  “I am.”

  “We’d like to talk to you about Poppie Beresford.”

  “Please come in.”

  They walked into a house that looked as though it had been decorated back in the 1980’s. There was a braided rug on the floor and the furniture was the old fashioned pine colonial. “Can I get you some lemonade or iced tea?” He asked.

  The two officers refused. They sat down on the couch that had the exact same tartan type pattern as the couch Cammie had grown up with. Kevin sat opposite them in a rocker that had a doily pinned to the back.

  “It’s hard for me to believe that someone would kill Poppie,” he said as soon as they were all seated. “Things like that just don’t happen around here.”

  “What can you tell us about Poppie?”

  “Not much I’m afraid. She kept to herself. An extremely private woman. I couldn’t tell you what her favorite color was, or her favorite book, or even her favorite television program. Whenever we met, it was solely to go bird watching. And that’s what our conversations revolved around.”

  “When did you meet her?”

  “It had to be about three years ago. My wife had just passed away and I found myself at odds. I’d retired from my accounting job and was starting up my carpentry business, but I still felt out of sorts. I was reading the local paper one day when I saw an ad for a group forming that were interested in bird watching. My father was a bird watcher and I inherited his love of birds. I thought this might be just the thing I needed. I won’t lie to you. As the years went by, I found myself drawn to her. There was such a sense of loneliness and regret around her. I knew this was a woman who knew what it was to be lonely. I often saw her gazing down at a photograph when she thought no one was looking. The look on her face was enough to break your heart.”

  “Did you ever say anything to her about the photograph?” Rick asked.

  “I started to, but she immediately shut me down. She had boundaries that I knew not to cross. So I learned to be content with just being out in the woods with her and the others, looking for birds.”

  “What were the others in your group like?”

  “Meredith Quigley is a shy, timid woman. She once worked as the town librarian and it shows. My mother would have called her a church mouse. The slightest noise and she’d run away.” He chuckled. “But despite her nervous nature, she’s as sharp as a tack. And smart too. Bobbie Farmer was a hoot. He had a way of expressing himself that had me in stitches. He died last month at the age of 94. I hope I can keep my sense of humor to the end the way he did.”

  “What about Aubrey Gardiner?”

  Kevin hesitated for a moment. “I guess there’s no other way to say it. Aubrey is a gas bag. When he’s not looking for birds, he’s continually telling us about how successful his books are, and how famous he’s become. I had the sense he expected us to be grateful that he was willing to come out with us.” Kevin snorted. “There were times it was all I could do not to throw my binoculars at him just to shut him up.”

  “What was Poppie’s reaction to this?”

  “She completely ignored him. It didn’t seem to bother her at all.”

  “What about Meredith?

  “In the beginning she’d just smile at him, much as an indulgent parent will smile at a bratty child. However, I did notice a change in the month before he and his wife left town. Whenever Aubrey started to brag, she’d walk as far away from him as possible. The indulgent look was replaced by a look of impatient anger. If he’d had an ounce of awareness, he would have noticed it. But he’s too busy tripping over his own ego to notice anyone else. To him, we’re simply an audience for him to perform before, if you know what I mean.”

  “Kevin, did you notice any change in Poppie’s behavior at all within the last three months?”

  “No, I didn’t. I’ve come to believe that Poppie was so even tempered, not because she was wise or understanding, but because there was something broken inside of her. Something that made her simply not care anymore.”

  It was the same feeling Cammie had gotten when she’d stood in Poppie’s house. “When you saw her looking at the photograph, did you happen to see what it was of?”

  “I caught a quick glimpse once before she noticed me looking and shoved it into her pocket. It looked to be a picture of a teenage girl. It was obviously someone who meant a great deal to her.”

  “Were you invited to go to Twin Ponds to find the white crow?”

  Kevin took his time answering, which Cammie found curious. He looked out the window, a distracted, faraway look in his
eyes.

  “Um, Mr. Baker?” Cammie asked.

  He turned back to her with a blank look on his face. Then he blinked and it was gone. “I’m sorry. I was just remembering…anyway, you were asking about the white crow?”

  “Yes. Were you invited to go with Poppie and Meredith down to Twin Ponds?”

  “I was. She called me the night before they left and told me that Aubrey had contacted her about seeing a white crow. I wanted to go, but I was working on a commission piece – a cedar chest that was going to be a bridal gift. I was up against a deadline and had to finish it. Do you know if she saw the white crow? I’d like to believe she got to see it before she--” He stopped, unable to bring himself to continue.

  “Yes she did, Mr. Baker. Tell me, where were you last Tuesday morning between 5 and 8 am?”

  “I was in my barn, finishing up that commission piece I was telling you about.”

  “Can anyone verify that?”

  He looked stunned. “Are you implying I killed Poppie?”

  “It’s just routine.”

  “Rodney Novak is the person who commissioned it as a gift for his daughter’s upcoming marriage. He came by at 8 am to check on its progress.”

  “We’ll need his name and number.”

  “I have it right here.” Kevin walked to his desk where he shuffled through a stack of papers. He grew perplexed when he couldn’t find what he was looking for. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. Opening the drawer, he withdrew an appointment book. He flipped through it and scribbled a name and phone number on a stickie, then handed it to Cammie. She in turn handed him her business card. “If you think of anything that might be of help, don’t hesitate to call.”

  He walked them to the door. “I carry a great deal of guilt over all of this. I can’t help but think that if I had gone to Twin Ponds with the ladies, Poppie would still be alive. Please let me know when you catch the bastard who did this. Poppie Beresford was a lovely woman who didn’t deserve to die this way.”