“I’m looking over this list from the landscaper but I have some questions.”
“Sounds like you need old green thumbs,” he said, grinning back at her.
Juniper smiled and headed out to the gardens through the side door.
“Morning, Fern.”
She whipped around, clutching her shovel, until she recognized her. “Oh. Hi, Junie. You scared the bejeezus outta me.” She chuckled, self-consciously undoing the mosquito netting and pulling off the sun hat she was wearing. She brushed a few strands of her light brown hair off her face. “Did something happen to my brother?”
Juniper nodded. “Oh, no. Jason’s great. It’s been a weird week, though.”
“You’re telling me.” She seemed to brace herself as she gripped the long handle of her garden spade. “So, what brings you here today?” She braved a smile. “It can’t be my grubby appearance.”
Juniper laughed but plunged forward. “I just wanted to stop by and see if you would give my number to your mom and ask her to call me?”
“My mom?”
“Yes, remember how I was telling you the other day. I’m doing research on the house and family. I was hoping your grandmother might have shared some stories with your mom.”
“Sure, consider it done. She’s been a little upset this week so it might take her a bit but I’ll make sure she gets in touch,” Fern paused to pull off her right glove, wiped her hand on her jeans, and reached for her water bottle. “I heard you were at the mill when they found… my sister’s remains.”
“Yes. I’m so sorry, Fern.”
“Have you spoken to the police?”
She nodded her head, looking a little dazed. “Not a fun experience.”
“I know what you mean,” Juniper said. “No matter how innocent you are, their mere presence makes you wonder if you did something wrong.”
She chuckled ruefully and added, “You would know about that, I guess.”
She was referring to Juniper’s recent involvement in several murder investigations. And while Juniper hated to think about those circumstances, Juniper was willing to use them to get Fern talking. “I know all about it. But the police would never suspect you in your own sister’s death.”
“Who knows what they think? The first go-round of cops certainly didn’t care about us when it happened.”
“You mean Bruce Stone?”
Fern nodded, “Of course Cody’s much better than Bruce Stone ever was. I told Cody and Kaden everything I could remember.” Fern sniffled and pulled out a tissue and blew her nose delicately. “It’s still shocking. I spent so many years feeling angry and worried and confused. I couldn’t understand how Bee —that’s what I called her—could leave me and Jason behind. I mean, we didn’t have the greatest childhood, but we had one another.” Fern struggled to gulp back tears. “Did you know she was a singer?”
Juniper nodded.
“Well, I thought she’d run off to Seattle or something to join a grunge band—she was always talking about that.”
“I can imagine.”
“I felt betrayed. Abandoned.” Fern stared up at the sky, lost in thought. Finally, she said, “And now to find out that she never left. I feel so guilty for thinking all those things about her.”
They stood in silence for a long moment until Juniper said, “You shouldn’t feel guilty. You felt abandoned and anyone would have. If you ever need to talk about anything, I’m around.”
“You’re sweet, Junie. I appreciate it.”
“Did you know the police talked to Bruce Stone about how he bungled the original investigation? They also talked to Frank Patone.”
Her eyes darkened and her lips tightened with resentment. “Good. Maybe they’ll arrest one of them.” She grabbed the shovel handle and thrust the steel cutting blade over and over into the soft ground, as though she were attacking the dirt. “I hate both of them so much. Frank was a lousy boyfriend to Bee and I could kill Bruce for the way he handled that case.”
Once Fern and Juniper were finished talking, Juniper shook loose the heavy conversation and bought three bags of potting soil and a pair of gloves. She’d meant to get more things, but she needed to get out of there.
She paid for her purchases and used a flatbed cart to carry them out to the truck, thinking she’d hate to be on the receiving end of Fern’s anger.
“Oh, Junie,” Juniper dropped the last bag of soil into the bed of her truck, hearing her name being called from across the street. Fern had come out the front door of the hardware store. “My mother and great aunt are arriving tomorrow. Why don’t you and Pike come over for lunch? Say noon?”
Juniper smiled and waved.
Chapter Twenty Two
W hen Juniper and Pike arrived at Fern’s the next day, they saw an elderly woman, whom they assumed was Aunt Edie, napping peacefully in a rocking chair on the front porch.
Pike and Juniper silently made their way up the front steps. Reluctant to wake the woman, they paused a moment when they reached the door. They were still deciding how to proceed when the front door opened and out walked a tall man wearing crisply pressed gray slacks and a blue golf shirt.
“You must be Juniper and Pike,” the man boomed.
Both looked from Edie to him.
The man glanced for a moment to Edie then back to Juniper and Pike. “Oh, she won’t hear me.” He motioned for them to sit down. “She doesn’t have her hearing aids in. Can’t hear a thing without them. We’ll need to wake her up if you want to talk to her. I’m Dale, Edie’s son.”
“Nice to meet you, Dale,” Juniper said as she shook his hand and took a seat on the porch. “I’m Juniper Palmer and this is my friend Pike Hart. We’re here to see Fern and Tiff.”
“They’ll be back anytime. They just ran to the store. Hope you brought your earplugs though.” He shook Pike’s hand. “Those two love to gab and you best hope this one doesn’t wake up. She’s quite the talker, too, once you get her started.”
“If you’re Edie’s son, I guess that makes you Tiff’s cousin?” Pike asked.
“Guilty as charged. I’m also Mom’s chauffeur these days.” Dale winked as he walked over to the rocking chair and gently nudged his mother awake. Momentarily disoriented, Edie blinked her eyes several times and looked around. When she noticed the two strangers she tucked her hand in the front pocket of her blouse and pulled out her eye glasses, which had hearing aids attached. After slipping on her glasses she fitted the hearing aids in her ears.
“You the young women who came to talk about the Doctor and his family?” Edie asked, her voice as loud and clear as her son’s.
“Yes ma’am. My name is Juniper Palmer, and this is my friend Pike Hart.”
Edie laughed. “Fern told me you wanted Tiff’s number to talk about the past and I decided it was best I talk to you instead. My niece, Tiff is lovely but she don’t know a lick about all that. Plus, her mind is elsewhere, what with poor little Bee’s body being found. Such a tragedy.”
Juniper and Pike both nodded as Fern’s car pulled up the driveway.
“Afternoon, ladies!” Fern called out as she and her mother slammed the car doors shut. In her hands she carried two bags.
“Hello,” Juniper and Pike chorused.
Edie leaned forward and lowered her voice which still boomed even with her hearing aids in, “Word to the wise, don’t bring up Belinda in front of Tiff. She’s an ugly crier.” Edie winked after she’d said it and then sat back in her chair like an innocent deaf old woman.
Fern lifted the bags up for them to see. Juniper recognized they were from the deli. “I thought I’d grab lunch for us!”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Juniper said.
“Don’t be silly,” Fern said as the women made their way up the front walkway to the door. “My Great Aunt loves having company, and what’s better than gossip over pastrami. Have a seat and I’ll be right back with the lemonade.”
“My niece tells me you’re living next door,” Edie sai
d after Pike and Juniper each took a chair on the porch.
“Yes. We turned it into the Gothic Inn, and Pike here is now the proud owner of the Old Mill. We’re in the midst of turning it into a home for her.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes, my partner Jack and I, we own a construction company. We flip houses for a living and we manage the Inn on top of all that.”
“Like those television couples. Oh, I love that Gaines couple.”
Juniper laughed. “Yes, although we try to stick to historic houses, so we don’t usually change the layout as drastically as they do. Open concept is nice, but some people prefer the separation and solitude of walled off rooms.”
“Amen to that,” Edie replied. “All these people wanting to see their kids playing while they cook dinner. Hooey! I went all day without seeing my kids and that’s just how I liked it. Can’t get a house cleaned and meals on the table with a bunch of rug rats under foot.”
“Mama’s not kidding,” Dale said, “She used to kick us out first thing in the morning. Lunch would be on the patio waiting for us outside and we weren’t allowed back in the house until Daddy got home for dinner.”
“Yep, and that’s how it was for me and my siblings, too. Mother would send us out first thing in the morning —all nine of us. Trephinia and I would be carrying the babies around until it was time to bring them back for their naps.”
“Do you remember when your sister went to work for the Stones?” Pike asked.
Edie paused as if she were rebooting her brain.
“Specifically, do you remember when Marjorie’s husband hanged himself?” Juniper added.
“I do. Of course, I was only twelve at the time, but my sister was awfully upset.”
“She liked Almer Stone, then?” Juniper asked. Pike sat quietly and listened.
“You know, it’s been years since I talked to anyone about what happened back then. Truth is I don’t think my sister liked the man much, but she certainly didn’t think that he killed himself.”
Their conversation was interrupted for a moment when Fern returned to the patio carrying a tray with three glasses of lemonade. She set the tray on a side table and handed a glass to each woman. Edie waved away her glass, telling Fern to drink it. Fern gave a little chuckle and sat down next to her grandmother, glass in hand.
“I read some old newspaper articles about Victoria and Albert Downey’s deaths. Your sister was mentioned in a couple of them.”
“I remember that,” Edie said. “I’ve thought about it a lot during the years.”
“Why did she recant her story?” Juniper asked.
“The local police department paid her a visit and told her to keep her mouth shut. Almer Stone was a well-respected man in town and it didn’t hurt that he was now the richest.”
“So, the cops were covering for Almer?” Juniper said. “Did she ever tell Marjorie about the officer threatening her?”
“No, she wasn’t stupid,” Edie scoffed.
“Why are you so interested in something that happened one hundred and one years ago?” Tiff cut in.
“The Gothic Inn is my home now,” Juniper explained. “I suppose I feel some obligation to Victoria and Albert Downey.”
“They say he killed her and shot himself, right?” Dale confirmed.
“Yes,” Juniper said. “But if he didn’t—if they were both murdered—I’d like to set the record straight.”
“I don’t understand how we can help you prove that,” Dale said.
Juniper explained about the old newspaper articles that stated that Trephinia saw Almer Stone in the house right before the murder.
“I just want to present some reasonable doubt concerning Downey’s supposed murder-suicide. Do you remember anything else about Almer Stone—anything else about that day?” Juniper asked.
“Just that he was real agitated,” Edie replied.
“You were there,” Pike said.
Edie nodded. “Oh, well now I guess it’s about time I come clean.”
“What? Clean about what, Mama?” Dale asked.
“It wasn’t my sister Trephinia who saw Almer in the house. It was me.” Edie paused, “She was pregnant and feeling unwell, so I did her job that day.”
“Pregnant?” Fern said, but that doesn’t make any sense. “She was only sixte…” Her words trailed off as she realized why it had been a secret.
“Who was the father, Aunt Edie?”
Edie looked down. “She wouldn’t say. Anyway, I was supposed to be gone from the manor already that day, but I was just a girl and slower at scrubbing the floors than Trephinia. That’s how come my sister backed down after the police put the squeeze on her. She thought I mixed them up but I know what I saw. I watched the doctor leave. He was upset. He left and then I heard someone else inside and that’s when I saw Almer,” she said. “Troubled me to think Almer Stone may have gotten away with murder. Eased my conscience a bit when he died a year later. I figured the good Lord had his own way of dealing with the man’s sins.”
“I’m planning to put together an article on Victoria and Albert Downey’s deaths that will suggest Albert didn’t kill his wife or himself but was in fact murdered. I would like your permission to include what you’ve told me today—about why you recanted the story,” Juniper told Edie.
“You have my permission. But, not sure people will care after all these years.”
Chapter Twenty Three
G lancing at her cell phone Juniper noted the time. It was a few minutes past 6 p.m. The Old Mill was quiet without Jack and the crew there. Where are you, Albert? She wondered. From what she understood, he couldn’t leave the property. He must be somewhere.
She climbed the newly renovated staircase. Alone on the second floor, Juniper looked around. The walls were up and half the flooring had been laid. Her gaze fixed on the boxed fireplace that would be installed in Pike’s bedroom soon. The place was really coming together fast.
“Looking for me?” Albert asked.
Juniper jumped in surprise, knocking a hammer from the top of a flooring pile. Crying out in pain she grabbed her shin where it hit her and sat on the lowest step of a ladder.
“Will you please stop sneaking up on me like that!” she snapped, still rubbing her injury. Finally, she let out a sigh. “I talked to Mrs. McNitt today.”
“Our housekeeper?” Albert set aside his desert plate and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.
“No, Trephinia is dead. I talked to her younger sister, Edie. She remembered that night—remembered your brother-in-law in your house before your wife was murdered. According to her, she was covering for her sister who was pregnant and that’s why Trephinia changed her story after she was threatened by the local police.”
“Pregnant? You’re kidding.” He held his hand up to his brow as if he were flummoxed.
“Does that mean something to you?”
“No. It’s just shocking.” Albert stumbled over his words. There was definitely more to the story. Juniper debated on pushing him, but then he went on, “She wasn’t married. What a scandal that must have been. Did she reveal who the father was?”
“No.” Juniper frowned. “Albert, were you having an affair with the girl?”
“Hell, no.” He said, using the napkin to dust the crumbs from his pants. “My wife was quite enough for me. Anyway, back to the police threatening her. That doesn’t surprise me. The captain was Almer’s brother. He would have protected him at all cost.”
“Apparently. Edie remembered seeing you storm off—most likely to come here to the mill.”
Albert started at Juniper for a long moment. “I did. That much I remember, although it’s foggy still. Victoria and I had a disagreement. I just can’t remember what it was about.” He paced to the other side of the room. Juniper followed him.
“Was Almer there for your fight? Were you fighting with him too?”
The question caught him off guard. “I don’t know. I can’t remember. It’s possible
. I never had a problem with Almer until he started gambling and then it was constant trouble.”
“What about jealousy? Was there ever something between Almer and Victoria?”
“I don’t think so. I know he was sweet on her back in the day but then he married her big sister, and she never seemed to pay him any notice—at least not that I ever saw. You think Almer and Victoria were responsible for my death.”
“I couldn’t say for sure. I’m just looking at all the angles right now. In my opinion, Almer lied about being there and why lie if he didn’t do it. Think about it, if you killed your wife before leaving the house that day and he was there then he knew. Why would he leave, and then pretend to find her later when he found you? Something is fishy with that story.”
“I appreciate your effort, Juniper. Sincerely. I wish I could remember more.”
“I’ve two more things to check out.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, I’m curious to find out what happened to Trephinia’s baby. She obviously didn’t raise it. I know it may have nothing to do with your family but I’m still curious.”
“And the other thing?”
“Who would have done your autopsy back then? I would assume they would have one, considering the circumstances of your death.”
“Most likely Doc Smith would have looked us over. That was pretty standard around here.”
“Doc Smith? Was he the coroner?”
“Doc Smith was the only other local doctor—he lived just outside Bohemian Lake. So, what is it exactly you intend to do?”
“I’m going to see if the local police station has any of the old files on your death. Maybe an autopsy report of some kind.”
“How is that going to help?”
“Well, if you were killed at the house, which I don’t think you were, then there would be evidence of that. Based on your haunting this location and the blood found here, I think you were killed here at the mill and moved to the house. That to me suggests murder, not suicide. The report should confirm these details. I also want to check the angle of the gun wound.”
Crumb Cake, Corpses and the Run of the Mill Page 9
