The conversation between Gram and me turned light and even sillier than the other silly stuff. I think we must have needed it, to laugh a little, poke a little fun at ourselves, find our grooves again.
Even with her kind hospitality and willing ear, I didn’t tell her I was going to go to the bakery that evening, but I hugged her tightly before I left and sensed that she knew something was up. I hadn’t broached the subject of Gent and his family with her during this visit. I believed there just might be such a thing as ghost overload for Gram, and our conversation about Jerome was more than enough for one day.
As I got into the Nova, my phone rang.
“Hi, Evan?” I said.
“Yep. Hey, Betts, what are you doing?”
I thought a moment. “No real plans for a couple hours. What’s up?”
“I’m at Morris Dunsany’s office. He’s let me use some of his equipment to take a closer look at those photographs. He’s also been trained in crime scene analysis, did you know that?”
“I did, but he likes to usually stick with the ME part of his job.”
“Right. Well, if you can come over to his office, I’d like to show you a few things.”
Between Evan’s finds and Morris’s results regarding Roger Riggins’s cause of death, I couldn’t think of any other place I’d rather be.
Morris Dunsany’s office was one of the bigger Broken Rope secrets. Like Jake’s hidden back room, Morris’s office and autopsy facility was hidden behind a smaller room set up for the tourists. Back in the day, dentists and doctors performed procedures with over-sized, wickedly heavy and horrifying instruments. The small room in front of the place where the really gory stuff went on had a big dose of gory itself. Antique dental and medical instruments were secured to the walls, on shelves, and on worktables set up next to a dentist’s chair. The setup must have been the original design for torture victims, and an old operating table that would look cold and uncomfortable no matter where it was displayed completed the effect.
The front room was free of tourists when I knocked on the hidden door separating the two spaces. I wasn’t sure if there had ever been a town meeting regarding protocol for entering our “secret” rooms, or if we all just naturally knew to be stealthy.
“Hi, Betts,” Evan said from a tall stool that had been scooted up to a tall table along one side wall.
“Hi, thanks for the call.”
“No problem.”
“So, right after our discussion earlier, I hurried back to the station and pulled out the old pictures from the fire and brought them here. Come look and I’ll try to explain what I’m seeing, and Morris said to call him up after you’re done.”
I moved next to Evan as he adjusted the microscope enough that I could peer into it as I stood.
Putting my eyes to the double lenses reminded me of high school. I hadn’t enjoyed much about science, but I really disliked dissecting frogs, and for some reason the microscope made me think of those poor splayed and pinned creatures. I maneuvered my eyes and nose appropriately and turned the focus dial ever so slightly; I saw black smudges.
“I’m not sure what this is supposed to tell me,” I said.
“The smudge you’re looking at right now is where the burned remains of a body were found.”
“Okay.”
“Now, let me change the picture.” He stood and pulled the picture out, and then put another one in. He turned the microscope and then manipulated the dial. “Look again.”
I did as he instructed and saw the same sort of smudge. Almost.
“See how this one fans out, like someone might have given it a sweep or two with a broom?” Evan said.
“Maybe.”
“I tried to piece together the pictures, and they are thorough, but not all as thorough as I would like. Anyway, there are three more of these—I don’t know, disturbed might be the word—smudges and only one undisturbed.”
“Okay,” I said again.
“I think the disturbed marks illustrate that bodies or burned remains were moved from those spots.”
“So, three bodies—remains—might have been removed from the scene?”
“I think it’s a distinct possibility. I thought so when I looked at the pictures when I first came to Broken Rope. Now, under the microscope, I’m about ninety-five percent certain that that’s what I’m seeing.”
“Wait, I don’t understand. That means that after the fire had been put out, someone was able to remove the bodies and do what with them? In front of firemen and police who did nothing to stop them?”
“Ah, I thought about that, too. The fire wasn’t doused here. It was already out. This spot, in these pictures, was in the wing that jutted out from the main building. The building is in a residential area now, but the fire might not have been noticed right away back then. And even if it was, sometimes the only thing to be done was to let it burn. It happened lots back then. This fire burned and died out and then another fire started in the main part of the building.”
“Evan, that’s all really suspicious. Why weren’t circumstances better investigated?”
Evan shrugged. “I don’t know, Betts. I asked Morris and he chalked it up to the time in history, the lack of investigative equipment, and potentially something that Broken Rope authorities might have wanted to hide.”
“Hide?”
“It’s all just a guess.”
“So they found two bodies and you think there’s evidence that three others were there?”
Evan nodded.
“This is a strange question, Evan, but just bear with me. Is there a chance there could have been a fourth body?”
“Uh, well, I don’t know. I don’t see anything in the pictures that indicates as much. Why do you ask? What do you know, Betts?”
I sighed and pulled another stool out from under the ledge. I sat and said, “I don’t know anything that I can share. Really. I know that my gram is old, and over the years she’s told me things about growing up in Broken Rope that are . . . interesting, intriguing, mysterious. One of her stories has something to do with some friends who used to work at the bakery. I don’t have many details and Gram doesn’t want to talk about it anymore—it’s too painful for her, apparently—so it’s all just a bunch of hunches based on old stories that have probably changed over time.”
Evan had listened intently to me. There was something about his concentration that caught me off guard. He was truly intrigued by what I said.
“I’m not interested in getting anyone in trouble, including your gram, Betts, but is there any chance you could at least share the name of the four people you and she think died in the fire and whose bodies were removed before any official record could be taken?”
I smiled. It didn’t surprise me that he was a smart man. Anyone who could become a fire marshal must be smart, but again, there was that deep interest I saw in the glimmer in his eyes.
“You need to get to know Jake better,” I said. “Something tells me you would love his archives.”
“I think I would.” Evan smiled, too.
“The family’s last name was Cylas. There were four of them. There’s no record of them dying in or around Broken Rope. There’s no record of them being buried in any of our cemeteries.”
“Maybe they just moved.”
“Or, maybe they died in that fire and their bodies were taken and hidden. Maybe no one could figure out what happened to them, and missing people back then were much less investigated than they are now.”
“So, you think it was all on purpose?”
I shrugged. “I suppose anything is possible. I don’t know anything more than what I’ve told you.”
Evan grinned again. “It just might be enough.”
“Really?”
“We’ll see. I’m going to ask your friend Jake if he and I could combine efforts. It sounds like a great challenge.”
“Thanks,” I said.
The door that led to the nitty-gritty, the even more hidden bac
k-back room with the autopsy facility, of what Morris did swung open.
“Well, well, there you are, Miss Isabelle Winston,” Morris said as he joined us in the smaller mid-room.
Morris was about an inch shorter than me, and he was round in a pleasant way. Even though he took up a good amount of space in every room he entered, that space only expanded with his vibrant personality. His gray hair was always just a little too long. Even when I’d seen him exit the barbershop, I thought he must have been in there only for a friendly visit because his hair was still too wild as it rode the top of his collar.
Morris’s friendly round face was punctuated by his wide nose and his continually happy eyes; eyes that had seen some of the worst tragedies Broken Rope had experienced over the last twenty years.
“Hi, Morris,” I said.
“Missouri doing okay? She sounded worried on the phone today.”
“I think she’ll be all right.”
“Good, I hope we’ll get Mr. Riggins’s murder solved quickly.” He waved away his thoughts. “Did Evan show you the pictures?”
“He did. Do you think bodies were moved, too?”
“I think it’s possible, and I think that possibility might stir up a hornets’ nest, Izzy.”
Morris was the only person who had ever called me Izzy. It was a nickname that I hadn’t encouraged, but it didn’t bother me.
“I guess,” I said, “but a historical hornets’ nest.”
“True, but we’re a little protective of our scandals. Altering them might not go over well.”
“Does that bother you?” I asked.
Morris ran his hand over his chin and thought a moment before he said, “I don’t know. How important is all this”—he waved toward the pictures—“to you?”
It was my turn to think a moment. “Isn’t the truth always important?”
Morris didn’t wear glasses but he frequently bent his neck down and peered up at people from under his bushy eyebrows. “The truth tends to cause a lot of ruckus before it sets anyone free, Izzy. You prepared to battle that ruckus?”
“Yes.” I didn’t need to think about that one.
“Okeydokey. Evan, did you show her the one that got my interest the most percolated?”
“Not yet.” He switched out the pictures again. “Take a look.”
It was another black smudge, but this one was even blacker, as though it had some depth.
“What am I seeing?”
“I think this is the spot where the fire, or at least the fire that was in this part of the building, started. I think some sort of accelerant was used. Probably something as remedial as good old-fashioned gasoline, or turpentine, or whiskey. Those were the typical fire starters of the day; of any day, really.”
I looked again. “You sure?”
“We’re both as sure”—Morris nodded at Evan—“as we can be. Experts would be helpful, but they might also balk. These are old, old pictures, and ‘experts’ don’t like to risk being wrong. Evan, here, and I are okay with making a guess or two if it’s just for you and nothing official.”
“I appreciate it.” I scooted back onto the stool.
Morris and Evan looked at each other. I was sure they were wondering why I was getting comfortable again.
“Morris,” I said. “Is there any chance you could tell me what poisoned Roger Riggins?”
“Ah.” Morris patted his round belly and looked at Evan. “Well, I can’t tell you specifically. Jim asked me not to tell anyone. But I can tell you that it was something organic, something found in nature.”
“A poisonous plant?” I said.
“Something like that.”
The only poisonous plants I could think of were poison ivy and poison oak, but they caused itchy rashes, not death as far as I knew.
“The poison was ingested?” I said.
“Yes. That’s what we’ve determined. It was actually pretty easy to figure it out. Everything was right there in the stomach.”
“Was it ingested poison ivy or poison oak?”
Morris laughed. “No, but that could make someone mighty sick.”
“What poisonous plants are around here, or around the school?” I asked.
Morris just smiled, though it was a sad smile. He wasn’t telling.
The school and the cemetery were surrounded by woods that I’d never been one to roam through. I’d grown up in a residential area with a park and a neighborhood swimming pool. But I knew someone who had spent lots of their childhood communing with nature. Gram. I kept that sudden spark of knowledge to myself. I didn’t think her time in the woods made her suspicious, but why risk mentioning it.
Somewhere back in the depths of Morris’s hidden gory room a phone rang.
“Oh. Gotta get that. Jim wants me to be available twenty-four/seven. If I don’t answer, his tighty-whities get all in a bunch.” Morris laughed.
I often thought Morris’s constant good humor was his way of coping. His smiles and laughter weren’t ever maniacal, but sometimes they could be considered inappropriate. But he was too well liked for anyone to call him on it.
After he disappeared again, I took one more look at the picture on the microscope. I saw what Morris and Evan had explained, but I wasn’t sure if I saw it because it was truly there or if they’d planted the idea in my mind. I might see some differences in the dark smudges, but I couldn’t really be sure. And, I didn’t have any sort of education to back up their ideas.
“It’d be great to find another spot where a body could have been,” I finally said.
“I’ll look into it,” Evan said.
I thanked him and stood to go, but as I reached for the latch on the front secret door, Evan cleared his throat as if he had more to say.
I turned and smiled expectantly.
“You know,” he began. “And, I’m not saying this because it’s something I know for a fact, but it’s a conclusion I came to on my own.”
I nodded.
“The poisonous plant might not have been from around here. Think about it, you have students here from all over the country. Maybe someone brought it with them.”
“That’s . . . well, that’s kind of brilliant. Good point,” I said.
“Thank you.” Evan smiled.
“See you later, Evan.”
“Later, Betts.”
I exited the hidden room without being seen by anyone and went to pick up Jake.
Chapter 11
I pulled up in front of Jake’s and honked the Nova’s wimpy horn once. The old blue darling might still be a reliable machine, but its horn had seen better days.
A second later, Jake emerged from his cottage. His home was modest, too modest for a millionaire, but he didn’t care about the size or the simplicity of his house. It was the property, the land, that he was most interested in, though I never understood why. Jake had about ten acres, adorned with a barn that belonged in Amish country; it was big, red, in perfect condition, and mostly empty. He liked to garden, but he wasn’t a farmer, so most of the property was grassland. He enjoyed riding his tractor mower and would sometimes spend hours just mowing and thinking, or so he said. He always said that he someday wanted a farm with cows and chickens and goats, so, in the meantime, he was just getting things ready.
This evening, Jake was dressed all in black as though we were going to rob the bakery. He also had a big bag slung over his shoulder.
“What’d you bring?” I asked after he threw the bag in the back and then sat in the front passenger seat.
“Full-spectrum camera and some other stuff that will help me do ghost readings.”
I paused but only briefly. “Got a Proton Pack in there?”
“No, don’t be silly, that was just movie fodder. These are real ghosts.”
“That’s true. So . . .”
“Oh, go ahead and say it. I know you want to.”
“Who ya gonna call?”
“Feel better?”
“Much,” I said. “Are you going t
o try to come inside with me?”
“I don’t think so. I think it’s best if I just stay outside and see what I can pick up from there. Unless you want me to come with you.”
“Nope, I’m good.” I was happy to hear his answer; I didn’t want to have to worry about his safety, but if I said that out loud, he’d take it as a challenge not a warning.
“I bet I can’t get in anyway.” Jake sighed disappointingly. “You’ll have to share all the details.”
“I will. I promise.”
I pulled the Nova to the same spot Gram had parked her Volvo. It was darker and even quieter tonight than it had been the night before. The sky was milky black with a thick layer of clouds, and I didn’t see any activity in the area; no cars, no pedestrians, no curious onlookers. No wonder Gram was never worried about being caught when she used to visit the bakery. The building sat amid a small population but it was still off the beaten track, and the population mostly stayed inside.
I handed Jake the keys. “I don’t think you’ll be bothered, but if you need to leave I’ll just walk over to the benches in front of the old courthouse. You can pick me up there.”
“That works.” He peered down the dark abandoned street that I would have to traverse to get to the benches. “Sort of. You sure you want to go that way?”
I looked up and out through the windshield at the building. “If I need to get out of there, I’m not going to want to hang around here and wait for you to come back. I’ll want to get away. That’s a good spot to meet, well lit even if it’s dark on the way.”
“Betts, are you sure we shouldn’t call Miz? This seems like an unnecessary risk. Maybe. I don’t know, but that building looks terrifying. Surely, you could fall through a floor or get bitten by a snake at any turn.”
“A snake?”
“It’s just what came to mind.”
“No, when I go in there, I go back to when it was really a bakery. It’s sturdy and solid with no rodents or snakes.”
“Hmm.” Jake glanced at the building, too. He’d often stated his jealousy about how I was able to see the ghosts, and he couldn’t, even with his all-encompassing interest in Broken Rope’s history. Jake wasn’t afraid of much, but I wondered if this time he might be okay being left out of the paranormal experience. “I still don’t think it would be awful to call Miz.”
If Bread Could Rise to the Occasion Page 10
