Chad shrugged. “Ben found those boxes stored in his father’s barn long after he had died. At first, he assumed the information would be something the Historical Society would be interested in. But once we started going through them—”
“You found it embarrassing?”
Chad nodded. “Historically it was no secret that the Klan was fairly active in Oregon at one time. But from everything we found, they were only active in Frederickport for a few years. Millie’s, Ben’s and Herman’s fathers got swept up in the Klan when they were impressionable young men. In the big scheme of things, it was a relatively short time in their lives. We didn’t see the point of focusing on such a negative time. They all went on to do good things. In fact, Millie’s and Herman’s fathers were the ones who donated the money to pay for the land and construction of the new church.”
“Is that why you went along with it?” the chief asked.
“Yes. These days people like to Christian bash, and frankly, I didn’t want people to associate our church with the Klan.”
“What about Ruby?” the chief asked. “Do you think she has the right to keep land that was probably illegally purchased by her grandfather?”
“We couldn’t really expose the truth about the motel without bringing out all our skeletons. And it wasn’t Ruby’s fault. She’s worked her entire life at that motel; it wouldn’t be fair for her to lose it now. And you have to remember, back when we found those boxes, we thought all the Marlows were gone. And Brianna Boatman hadn’t been back to Frederickport since she was a young woman. It was all water under the bridge. We just didn’t see the point in dragging out all that dirty laundry.”
Fifteen minutes earlier over at Marlow House, Danielle was saying goodbye to the last of her guests. Amy had checked out first, followed by the Wattses. The last to leave were the Garcias. Danielle stood on the front porch waving goodbye to them as they made their way to their car. She stood there until they drove off and then headed for the front door. As soon as she stepped inside the house, her cellphone rang. Pulling the phone from her pocket, she checked to see who was calling. It was Police Chief MacDonald.
Ten minutes later Danielle walked into the parlor, where Walt was finishing sorting through what had been in the apple boxes.
“I don’t think we should take that over to the museum just yet,” Danielle announced.
Walt looked up from the box he was sealing and asked, “Why not?”
“I just spoke to the chief on the phone. I guess Pastor Chad is at his office right now. Chad admitted to intentionally taking those boxes. Apparently the entire board was in on it. Like Marie said, they wanted to whitewash history.”
“While unethical, I’m not sure why he went to the police chief and didn’t just call you and come clean.”
“Because Chad thinks Sam was the one who hit Beverly over the head.”
“Really? Seems a little drastic.”
Danielle walked to the desk. “Chad thinks he was ransacking the garage looking for the boxes, and Beverly surprised him. Anyway, they all know we have what was in those boxes, and Chad was afraid he might come over here for them. Sam’s boss seems to have more at stake than the others. The chief wanted me to know in case Sam shows up here.”
Walt looked to the open door. “Do we need to be concerned?”
“I already locked the front door, and I never unlocked the side gate this morning. Joanne’s in the kitchen, and I told her not to let anyone in. I don’t think we have anything to worry about. The chief already sent out a couple of his officers to round up the History Gang.”
“History Gang?” Walt frowned.
“That’s what I told the chief I’m calling them. Or maybe it should be the Museum Gang?”
Thirty-Four
Danielle glanced down at the parlor desk and noticed a tattered envelope stuffed with papers. She picked it up and looked at Walt, who was now hop-walking to the sofa.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“I found that in the last drawer. I don’t think it was supposed to be in there.”
“What do you mean?” Danielle turned her attention to the envelope and began thumbing through the yellowed papers inside—they were cancelled checks, all written on Beverly and Steve’s Frederickport checking account. “I see what you mean. I imagine Beverly would want these back. They’re kind of old. According to the dates, over five years ago. But still, I wouldn’t want my old cancelled checks floating around.”
The next moment Danielle let out a shriek when several of the checks unexpectedly flew out of the envelope and began floating across the room to Walt. She froze a moment and then looked to him. He began to laugh.
“You know…floating checks…get it?” He laughed again.
Police Chief MacDonald stood in the hallway of the police station, thinking about Danielle’s recent suggestion for what to call the people who had just been brought into the station—the History Gang. He, however, had a more apt name, one borrowed from an old movie: The Over-the-Hill Gang. The name came to him as he watched Herman hobbling down the hallway aided by his cane, and then Millie, who looked as if she needed one. Ben, who was already being led into the interrogation room, appeared far more feeble than MacDonald remembered noticing before.
“Thank you for coming in, Ben,” the chief said as he took a seat across from him at the table in the interrogation room.
“I’m not really sure why you wanted me to come down here,” Ben asked.
“I tried to get ahold of you a few days ago, but I was told at the museum you were out of town.”
Ben nodded. “Yes. The wife and I went to visit family. What is it you needed to talk to me about?”
“According to one of Beverly’s neighbors, they described a car like your Packard stopping at her house late Wednesday afternoon.”
Ben nodded. “Yes. I stopped over there. I imagine you want to know if I saw anything suspicious. I didn’t. Sorry.”
“Beverly says she didn’t see you Wednesday.”
Ben shrugged. “I never saw her. She didn’t answer her door.”
“Why did you stop by her house?” the chief asked.
Ben stared at the chief. “Umm…I wanted to talk to her.”
“About what?”
“Museum business.”
“According to Beverly, she doesn’t really get involved with museum business.”
“It was nothing, really.”
“Oh, I think it was, Ben.”
Ben frowned. “Excuse me?”
“I know about those apple boxes Brian helped Beverly take down from the rafters in her garage. I know what was in them—and how you tried to get them back.”
Ben groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Danielle must think we’re horrible.”
“At the moment I’m more concerned about Sam.”
Ben looked up to the chief and frowned. “Sam?”
“One of Beverly’s neighbors saw Sam stop by Beverly’s the same afternoon. He denies stopping by. But I’m wondering if he did and it was to get those boxes. But when Beverly walked in on him, he panicked and hit her.”
“What?” Ben gasped. “No way. Sam would never do something like that. We were stupid to try to cover all this up, but hurt Beverly? Never! None of us would ever hurt anyone!”
When Ben had initially been brought into the interrogation room, he wondered if it had something to do with the fact he had stopped by Beverly’s house on the day of the attack. At the time he had not considered it had anything to do with the apple boxes. He assumed the chief was going to ask him if he had seen anything suspicious when he had dropped by Beverly’s, and Ben was trying to figure out how to explain why he had stopped by without bringing up the apple boxes.
Unlike Ben, Millie suspected the reason for being asked to come down to the station had something to do with the darn apple boxes. To begin with, she had run into Herman in the police station parking lot when she had first arrived. Ben was just being led into the interrogati
on room when she and Herman were being led down the hall, and while she had seen Ben’s backside, he had not seen her and Herman.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Millie began when she was alone with the chief in the interrogation room. “I know we were wrong to take those boxes, but I can’t believe Danielle is going to file charges against us. After all, we told her we were giving them back tomorrow.”
“So you know I know about those apple boxes—and what was in them?” the chief asked.
Millie shrugged. “That’s what I figured it had to be. I suppose I should be grateful Marie isn’t here to tell me I told you so.”
The chief arched his brows. “Marie?”
“Oh, such a sanctimonious goodie good. Well, I would like to know what she would have done if it were her father’s face in one of those shameful news clippings.”
“I imagine it was embarrassing.”
Millie looked the chief in his eyes. “So why am I here? Are you arresting me for my part in taking those boxes? Is Danielle really pressing charges?”
“I’m here to question you about Sam.”
“Sam?” Millie frowned.
“What do you know about Sam’s visit to Beverly’s on Wednesday?”
“Sam went to Beverly’s on Wednesday? I don’t know anything about that.”
“Do you think he would have broken into her garage and looked for those boxes?”
“Of course,” Millie scoffed. “I would have done it myself if I thought I could have carried them out of the garage!”
“And if Beverly walked in on you, would you have hit her?”
Millie gasped. “Of course not! You think Sam attacked Beverly? Well, he didn’t!”
“Are you certain?” the chief asked.
Millie shook her head. “No. Sam is not capable of that. Goodness, look what he’s put up with from Ruby all these years? If he was going to hit anyone, it would be Ruby, not Beverly. And if someone was going to hit Beverly over those boxes, Ruby would be the one capable. Not Sam.”
When it was Herman’s turn in the interrogation room, he leaned more toward how Pastor Chad felt regarding Sam. Like Chad, he suspected Sam was responsible for the attack on Beverly. Yet it really didn’t matter what any of them thought. All they really offered were opinions.
“Yes, I lied,” Sam confessed when the chief asked him again about stopping by Beverly’s on Wednesday. The two sat alone together in the interrogation room. The abrupt confession surprised MacDonald.
“Why did you lie?” the chief asked.
“Because then I would’ve had to have told you why I stopped by Beverly’s that day. But it’s going to come out now anyway. So what’s the point of making up more lies now?”
“What’s going to come out?” MacDonald asked.
“About the boxes.” Sam then went on to tell MacDonald his version of the apple boxes, and the lengths they had gone to in order to get them back. However, he mentioned nothing about going into Beverly’s garage or hitting her over the head.
“Are you saying you had nothing to do with the attack on Beverly?”
“Hell no!” Sam gasped. “Why would I want to hurt Beverly?”
“There are a couple of people who think you broke into Beverly’s garage looking for those boxes, and when she walked in you panicked and hit her.”
“What, and dragged her into her house and locked her in a closet? Who said that?”
“Why did you go over there?”
“Like I told you, for the boxes. But I wasn’t going to just take them. I figured there was always a chance she would let me have them if she knew they were from the museum. I figured it was worth a shot.”
“But you didn’t ask her. Beverly said she didn’t even see you.”
“I knocked on the door; no one answered. So I left.”
The chief had nothing to hold Sam on, so he let him go home, along with the rest of the History Gang, as Danielle called them. However, there was one more person he wanted to interview. Considering what Danielle had learned by going through those boxes, it was the one person who had the most to lose: Ruby Crabtree.
MacDonald dreaded the interview. He half joked to Brian and Joe that perhaps they should interview Ruby since it had been Brian and Joe who had found Beverly. At the suggestion both officers practically leapt backwards, bumping into each other, each sputtering some nonsensical reason why the chief was the best man for the job.
“Best man, my foot,” the chief grumbled under his breath. “You guys are just chicken.”
Ruby Crabtree was five feet tall, yet people who knew her were convinced she had to be taller—much taller. MacDonald always thought she looked a little like a Strawberry Shortcake doll, with her short curly red hair, round face and pug nose—yet with the temperament of Chucky.
She had been married four times and had never been divorced. Some suggested husbands of Ruby tended to rush to the grave soon after the honeymoon. Ruby was a force to be reckoned with in the local chamber of commerce, and new businesses in town courted her approval. After all, a majority of tourists tended to stay at the Seahorse Motel when coming through town, and if Ruby was unhappy with a local business, she would let her guests know to avoid said business.
“My attorney has told me not to discuss this without him present,” Ruby announced after the chief sat down at the table.
“Do you know why I asked you to come here?” the chief asked.
“I assume because of what Danielle Boatman found in those boxes Beverly gave her. But I don’t want to talk about that. So can I go now?”
“I want to discuss the attack on Beverly,” the chief explained.
“The attack on Beverly? I guess I can talk about that without my attorney. But I don’t know anything.”
“According to Sam, he went over to Beverly’s on Wednesday to see if she would give him the boxes.”
“I don’t want to talk about the boxes,” she said stubbornly.
“Sam claims he left without seeing Beverly, that she wasn’t home.”
“I know it’s true he left without seeing her.”
“How do you know; did he tell you?” the chief asked.
“He told me later. But I didn’t know he was going over there. Or I wouldn’t have gone over there myself.”
“You were there?”
“After Sam informed me of the recent developments, I decided to go talk to Bev. Ask for a favor. Bev and I have always gotten along. She always has her family stay at my place when they come to visit. I appreciate that. But when I pulled up, I saw Sam driving away. I figured he was there for the same reason I was. I didn’t know until later he never saw her. I would have stopped myself, but I noticed that boy hanging around outside, and I really didn’t want him to start asking me why I was there, so I went back to the motel.”
“What boy?”
“Oh, I can’t remember his name. We just hired him to help Sam around the motel. He does odd jobs around town. I know he also works over at the church. I assumed he was there doing something for Bev. I’m sure she can tell you his name.”
Thirty-Five
“I’m still not clear what that was all about,” Brian told the chief after Ruby left the police station. “What exactly was in those boxes I took down from the rafters over at Beverly’s?”
Joe stood by silently, curious to hear the answer himself. He and Brian had been unable to listen to the chief’s interrogations through the two-way mirror, as they were both preoccupied keeping the witnesses—or suspects—separated until it was his or her turn with the chief.
“Mostly embarrassing family history information they had hoped to bury, but Steve kept. Some of it might put into question Ruby’s ownership of the motel—but that’s for Danielle to pursue if she decides that’s what she wants to do.”
“You don’t think any of them really had anything to do with Beverly’s attack, do you?” Joe asked.
“Not really. But Ruby did mention seeing a teenager hanging around Beverly’s ho
use late Wednesday.” MacDonald looked at Brian. “Do you know of any teenage boy Beverly might have hired to help her—maybe do yard work?”
Brian shook his head. “No. I suggested she might want to hire someone to help her, especially with some of the yard work. But she told me she had tried hiring some teenager but said it didn’t work out.”
“Do you know who it was?” MacDonald asked.
“No. Why? Do you think it has something to do with who attacked her?”
“I don’t know. But when I spoke to Chad the other day, he mentioned Steve Potts was going to do some work for her, but it didn’t work out. When I asked him if Steve and Beverly had any kind of problem, he claimed they didn’t.”
Not sure I trust Pastor Chad’s judgment, the chief thought. First Chad removes those boxes from Marlow House and pretends it was an accident, and then he is convinced Sam was involved in Beverly’s attack. Perhaps he’s also misjudged Potts.
“Steve Potts has had his share of problems,” Joe reminded him.
“I think the easiest thing to do would be if I went over to Beverly’s and just asked her if there was a problem with Steve,” the chief said.
“I’m surprised you didn’t offer to go over to talk to Beverly about Potts,” Joe told Brian after the chief left the station. The two were alone in the break room.
Brian shrugged. “The chief wants to handle this case. I guess he’s concerned I’m not objective enough regarding Beverly.” He walked to the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Hey, Brian, are you okay?” Joe asked with a frown.
Brian shrugged again and then took a sip of his coffee.
“What is it?”
Brian set his cup on the counter and looked at Joe. “I really liked Beverly.”
Joe frowned. “Liked? As in past tense?”
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