Chapter 10
We got up the next morning and went downstairs. Ava showed up at five o’clock, ready to work. I was impressed. Steve sat in the kitchen while I cooked and Ava served the orders to the table.
Around nine o’clock, Gina came to the window with a scarf wrapped around her head. “Stevie, are you closed? Please tell me you can fix my hair. I took the foil out and washed it, but its a mess!”
“I uh…”
“Please. I’m begging you. I’ll pay whatever you want. I don’t care who you murdered. I cannot live with my hair like this!”
“You’d better go. I’ll pick you up at seven tonight and we’ll go to the festival.” He came over and stood at my side, smiling. We kissed.
“I’ll be waiting.” He went over to his salon to take care of Gina’s hair and more of his clients showed up for their appointments. Either they didn’t believe Steve had done anything wrong or they were willing to risk death to have their hair done.
I’m sure there were whispers about us. People knew he spent the night. We didn’t hide anything. Why should we have to? I was tired of talk, rumors and lies. Truth be known, I was angry at everyone in town. When they gossiped, they talked about all the wrong things. While they were carrying on about Steve and I being a couple, they chose to ignore the more important things. Things like a history teacher molesting boys. Secrets were kept in Buck Valley, until it was too late and people got hurt.
Ava came into the kitchen when the breakfast rush died down. “Where do you keep your Halloween decorations?”
“They’re in the closet, over there.” I pointed at the door with my spatula.
“Can I put them up?”
“Sure. I’d appreciate it.” Every year I dragged those boxes out of the closet and hung up holiday decorations. I had to do it because I was on the town’s list of places to visit during the festival. I’d almost forgotten. I didn’t think I had the energy to do it this year, but once Ava started, I joined in and helped her. Together we turned the place into a haunted diner. I finished it off by bringing Old Tom’s hat and jacket downstairs. I draped the jacket over a chair and put his hat on the table, inviting his spirit to return. I did it every year to honor his place here. Old Tom bought the building and turned it into a diner in 1943, during WW II. He was wounded in the war, and they sent him home, but he didn’t slow down until the week he died. I admired him.
When Ava and I finished, there were pumpkins on the front steps, bats and goblins in the windows and a vampire on the kitchen door. I was glad that we did it, but there was an aching, hollow feeling in my chest and it wouldn’t go away. Surely, Steve’s family would rescue him from going to prison. Maybe the feeling was there because my own mother told me to leave and go home, as if the cabin on the mountain no longer was. I pushed that thought away as quick as it came. There were some things in life I didn’t dwell on. That was one of them. In my mind, the cabin on the mountain would always be my home, even if I was no longer welcome there.
I worked through the day. Steve did, too. Some of his clients canceled, but not many. When he wasn’t busy in the salon, he came back over to the diner. He finally ate a full meal, and that made me happy.
After we had closed, I went upstairs and he went home to shower and change clothes. In a couple of hours, he’d returned, and I was really happy to see him. After he spent the night with me, things changed between us and it was good. I didn’t have the doubts I had before and I was more secure. No matter what was going on, we had officially become a couple.
During the festival I served Coffee, tea, soda and apple cider with cookies and pastries. It was a limited menu, but people didn’t mind. I lit candles on the tabletops, played spooky music and people came in to see it. It was different than what they usually saw, and that’s what mattered.
Ava agreed to help work the festival as long as she could have her baby with her. He wasn’t much trouble and the customers loved having him around. We split the hours, so she could take him out to enjoy the festival, too. Steve and I hung out in the diner from seven till nine, then Ava came back to work ten to eleven o’clock. It was the first time I was able to go out and enjoy the festival. Before this, I never had a break and I really liked having one. I especially liked walking beside Steve Lark and holding his hand.
We got a few looks. We couldn’t tell if it was because of the hand holding or because of the latest horrific scandal in town. The hardcore gossip hounds were working overtime trying to figure out who Reynolds molested. They all knew Steve had been arrested and that he had given a statement to the police.
I often thought about escaping to a big city where my business wouldn’t matter to anyone, but I didn’t have the courage to do it.
We walked through the festival, going from table to table, looking at the crafts and trying a few of the games. We stopped for a while and sat on the hay bales, listening to the country music band. Steve looked tired. I guess I did, too. We tried to enjoy ourselves but the murder of Joseph Reynolds and what he’d done was a giant dark shadow over the entire town.
“We should do it now,” Steve said.
“What?”
“Go back to the river, and to the house. All the cops are here. I counted them.”
“I don’t know.” It was risky. If we got caught, we’d both be in some serious trouble.
“We have to find more clues. Someone did this. Someone is guilty but it isn’t me. I don’t like the looks I’m getting.”
I glanced at my phone. “Are you sure? We don’t have a lot of time. I have to be back at the diner. Ava goes home around eleven.”
“I can’t enjoy this while I’m thinking about going to court. If we can find the real killer…”
“You’d be free of it. I know. All right, but we’ll leave the truck and car here. We’ll walk down there, like we used to.”
Brittle leaves skittered across the street and the wind blew the trees, rustling them around us.
“This had to happen around Halloween,” Steve complained.
Even without the creepy decorations, the town was frightening, especially as we walked away from the festival. The lights faded to darkness and the music disappeared. We walked the familiar street in the dark, crossed the road and found the path behind the billboard.
“Do you have a light?” Steve asked.
“No. Stay close,” I got this. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust but in the moonlight, I saw everything just fine. I could hear the river up ahead, and I’d traveled the path, a million or more times. Occasionally, a new fallen branch tripped me up, but we made it to Indian Rock.
“What are we going to find in the dark? A small flashlight would have helped,” Steve said.
“Okay. Just stop a moment,” I said in a quiet voice. We stood on the river bank. “What was Reynolds doing here? Did he come here alive or was he dumped here?”
“The coroner said he died from the stab wounds. He didn’t drown. Plus, I think if someone dumped the body, they’d have dumped it from the bridge so it would go down river with the current.”
“Right,” I agreed, “so someone else was back here.”
“Someone he knew. He wouldn’t come here alone. There’s no reason for him to and that many stab wounds, the person was beyond angry with him. They call it a crime of passion.”
“Yeah? Where did you hear that?”
“Netflix.”
“Oh. One thing bothers me,” I said, “If Reynolds called you, would you meet him back here?”
“Hell no,” Steve said, “not after what he did to me, when I was a kid...maybe it wasn’t a victim. Unless the victim wanted to get even and set him up.”
“I don’t think it was a victim. Think about it. This has been going on for years and no one came forward. No one said anything. If you were going to kill him, would you leave the body here where anyone could find it?”
“No. No, I wouldn’t.” He paused. “Maybe it was an argument with someone, or he owed money?”
/> “Whoever did it, didn’t care if the body was found. They wanted it seen.”
There was a big splash in the river.
“Fish,” I said.
“How do you know?”
“I just know. Don’t worry, there’s no one else back here,” I said. “You’re right. They’re all at the festival.”
“The killer?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Let’s go back. After I send Ava home and the festival closes, we’ll go to Reynolds house again.” We went back up the path to the main road and crossed the street. I groaned. Bobby Ryker was on the corner, watching us.
“What were you two doing?” he asked, as we walked up to him.
“What do you think we were doing?” Steve grinned at him. “We walked to my place. I have a hot tub in my garden and...do you want all the details?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Are you sure?” Steve gave him a wicked grin, one I rarely saw but I really liked.
“Positive.”
“This is a free country, Ryker,” I added. “People are allowed to walk around and have random sex if they want to.”
“I can see what this is leading to. A gay wedding. That’s just what we need in this town,” he complained.
“Maybe you can be my best man,” Steve suggested.
“Really?” His voice gave him away. He was interested. He wanted to be included. Bobby didn’t have any friends. It was kind of sad.
“We’ll keep you in mind,” I assured him. “Listen, do you know of anyone who had an argument with Reynolds?”
Bobby shook his head and put his hands on his hips. He liked being treated like a real cop. “No. We went over that at the station. He hardly talked to anyone. The best we could figure is he went to the school, taught his classes and went home. They saw him in the library once or twice, but not often.”
“What was the estimated time of death?” Steve asked.
“Three weeks ago. Maybe four. That’s what the coroner said anyhow,” Bobby told us. “Hey, are we working together now?”
I drew in a breath and exhaled. The words were like shattered glass on my tongue. “Sure. Why not?”
“Great. That’s great. Having you guys on my team will be like having my own CI’s.”
“What’s a CI?” I asked.
“Confidential Informants,” Steve said. “In other words, we solve the case, Bobby here takes credit for it.”
“You want to clear your name, don’t you?” Ryker asked.
“I’d think the donation to the department would be enough,” Steve replied.
“What donation?”
“Ask your dad,” Steve said.
“Are we working together or not?” Bobby asked.
“We’ll let you know,” I said. Steve and I walked away, headed for the diner. “Maybe we can get something out of him.”
Steve laughed. “Right. He doesn’t know anything.”
“Well, he knew Reynolds visited the library, and he had the coroner information. We couldn’t get that on our own. Also, if Reynolds was killed three or four weeks ago, school wasn’t in session yet.”
“True.”
“I think we should get whatever we can from whoever we can,” I said. “I don’t think Ryker’s our killer. I think he made the story up about the drifter. I’m pretty sure he…” My words fell off. “Who is that?”
“Where?”
“On the bridge.”
Steve stared hard at the person on the bridge. She stood under the street lights, wearing a long skirt. “No idea. Johanna?”
“The ghost?”
“Maybe. It’s almost Halloween.”
“Let’s go check real quick,” I said. We crossed the street again, but by the time we reached the bridge, she was gone. I glanced at Steve. She was gone. “See her anywhere?”
“No. She’s not there. She couldn’t have made it to the other end, even if she was running.”
“She didn’t come this way, either.” I visibly shook. “Let’s get back to the diner.” I didn’t want Johanna Rogers to be real, but I’d had plenty of encounters with her. Somebody in town saw her every year. She’d appear and she was gone. I believed in ghosts.
“Too bad we can ask her who killed Reynolds,” Steve said. “I bet she saw it happen.”
“I’m not ready to do a seance yet,” I said. Ma said that was another sin. I had plenty as it is.
The festival was over. A few stragglers were walking home. The vendors were taking down their booths, and the band was loading their equipment into a van. The cold wind picked up and litter and leaves scurried along the ground under our feet.
“So,” I said, “when it’s this cold out, do you still use that hot tub?”
Steve smiled. “Absolutely.”
“We could wait until tomorrow to check Reynolds house. We could go early in the morning, then go talk with JD Hayward. Maybe the librarian?”
“Oh, but what will we do tonight? I don’t have to be an investigator to figure out where this is going,” Steve teased.
I laughed and put my arm around his shoulders, pulling him close to me as we walked the rest of the way down the street.
Chapter 11
The next morning we went to Reynolds house, and Steve was on a mission. He went through every closet and drawer in Reynolds bedroom. He searched the kitchen and even the bathroom. The cops had taken the school pictures and the computer. It was a resounding defeat. We didn’t find anything. Reynolds was meticulous about hiding who he was and what he’d been doing.
“Maybe JD will tell us something,” I said as we drove up the mountain. Most of the leaves had fallen. It was a cold, wet day. The skies were gray and it was raining. The windshield wipers slapped and kept a steady rhythm the whole way up to the Hayward’s place. When we got there, the younger kids were playing in the barn. Most of the older ones were working. Ava told us where to find JD.
On the side of their cabin was a smaller shack. Inside of it, JD was sitting at a desk, gluing silver glitter on pine cones. He collected the pine cones and used them on wreaths that he’d make closer to Christmas time. He sold the wreaths to the stores in town, and some people say, he’d taken a lot of them to the city. He glanced at Steve and didn’t make a sound, but when he saw me, he jumped up from the stool and put the glue gun down.
“Take it easy,” I said. “We just want to talk to you.”
His attention went from me, to Steve and back again.
“Ava told me you don’t like to talk, but I only need a few words from you. Is that okay? I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Ok Keegan,” he said.
“Call me Seth. I’m not like Casey, understand?”
He nodded.
“Did you hear about Mr. Reynolds, the teacher?”
A flash of pain crossed his face. He nodded again.
“Do you know who killed him?”
He shook his head back and forth. “I don’t go down there. I don’t need nothin’ to do with town until Christmas. I was right here.”
“You go fishing?” I asked. There was a fishing pole in the corner. “You walk the river banks, looking for a good spot?”
“Sometimes.”
“Were you mad at Reynolds?” Steve asked. Their gaze met. JD’s eyes hardened.
“Were you?” JD asked. “You got arrested. Not me.”
“I didn’t kill him. Did you?”
“No. It wasn’t me.”
“Look, JD, if you did this,” I said, “we need to know. They know what Mr. Reynolds was doing. They want to find the person who did it and get them some treatment, some therapy. Medicine. Some pills?” Mentioning the drugs would help if he had any interest in taking them, or selling them.
“I didn’t do it!” he yelled. He reached under the desk, and I thought he had a gun. I wrapped him in a big bear hug, squeezing the life out of him until I saw what was in his hand, a book. I dropped him. He shoved it into my chest. Ava must have told him we were going to the lib
rary. “You want me to take your book back? I’m looking for a killer, JD.”
“He doesn’t know anything,” Steve said. “Come on.”
I scowled and grabbed the book, leaving the shack. “I came up here for answers, not to save him from getting a fucking library fine.”
“Calm down,” Steve said.
“Calm down? Calm down? You calm down! We have to find out who did this! I’m not losing you. Got it? We’re not getting anywhere with this! Everything is a dead end. What if we don’t find the killer? I can’t sit through a trial.”
Steve opened my truck door, and I handed him the book. “There won’t be a trial. Trust me.”
“I hope you’re right.” I started the ignition, backed up and pulled out.
“What is it?” Steve asked.
“He wasn’t like that before.”
“Who wasn’t? JD?”
“Yes. JD. He was a happy little kid. He talked forever, like Ava. He’d never shut up. Now look at him. Reynolds really messed him up.”
Steve glanced at me, but he didn’t say anything.
“I just meant…”
“I know what you meant.”
“Don’t be angry. I’m having a hard time with this. I feel helpless.”
“It’s okay,” Steve said. “We’ll get the guy. Don’t worry. At least with this book, we’ll have a reason to be at the library, and we can talk to Marlene.”
Chapter 12
We walked into the library, and it was supposed to be quiet, but it never was. Marlene and Patty, the librarians, were always behind the desk talking about everyone in town.
“They were together last night,” Patty’s voice said. “Rhonda told me Bobby saw them on Main Street. She said Steve told Bobby they were coming back from being in his hot tub, can you imagine?”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing Seth…” Marlene stopped as soon as she saw us and she adjusted her glasses, pushing them up on her nose. She gave an insta-smile.
“Hello ladies,” Steve said, smiling at them. “How are you today?”
“Fine. Just fine,” Patty said, quickly. She glanced at Marlene.
“Why aren’t you boys at your shops? Is the diner closed today, Seth?” Marlene asked.
Harvest Moon (Buck Valley Mysteries Book 2) Page 5
