Nobody's Sorry You're Dead: A Hadley Pell Cozy Mystery (11 page)

“
H
ello
, Hadley and Vesper.”

“Sir,” Beanie said, obviously ill-at-ease to be standing by a grave without a shovel in his hand.

“Good day, Preacher,” Hadley said. “We were just passing by and saw you here alone. Thought we’d stop and keep you comp’ny, if you don’t object.”

“Certainly not. I think it is mighty neighborly to pay your respects to Mr. Singlepenny.”

“I ain’t got none,” said Beanie. “But Hadley’s got enough for both of us, Preacher.”

Pastor Jake was at a loss for words. Hadley just smiled. Beanie was harmless. You just had to go with his flow.

“Looked awfully lonesome up here, Jake. Beanie and I thought we’d give you a little moral support.”

“Well, Hadley, I’m grateful for your consideration. I really felt a bit absurd standing here with no one to talk to, but I’d made up my mind, I’d talk to myself, even if it made me look like an idiot.”

“Well, you’re not one of that bunch,” said Hadley.

“I am,” said Beanie, quietly.

Both Jake and Hadley let that one pass without comment.

“That’s a really funny looking casket,” Beanie observed, looking down into the grave.

“It’s a cardboard box,” said the pastor.

“Guess that explains why they didn’t bury him in my cemetery,” Beanie said. “Harvey wants anyone planted in Memorial Gardens to be in one of those caskets from Sheffield's. Harry was buried in one of Sheffield’s finest, Hadley.”

“I know, Beanie,” Hadley said. “I wrote the check to Harvey.”

“Oh,” said Beanie.

“The cardboard box was all Eustian would pay for,” said Preacher Jake, “I guess we better start. Orville said Singlepenny forbade any embalming either.

“An expensive waste of good money.

“Orville said those were Eustian’s exact words several years ago when Singlepenny wrecked his tractor and thought he might die. Orville said you could have knocked him over with a feather when Eustian showed up wanting to talk burial arrangements. And this is all that the old man wanted. Nothing fancy. Just a hole in the ground, a cardboard box, and to be left in peace.”

“Well, Eustian’s certainly got his wish way out here,” said Hadley. “This is the farthest plot in this place. Out in the boonies. Not even a nice shade tree to lie under. Guess these spots go for pennies on the dollar. Not like the popular ones by the big Jesus statue.”

“I suppose,” said Preacher Jake.

“Don’t you wanna wait and see if somebody else shows up?” Beanie asked.

“Nah,” said Hadley. “I think this is gonna be about it, Bean. Let’s let the preacher get on with his service. Eustian’s gonna be left alone after we three leave.”

“Think he’s gonna be lonesome, Hadley? Nobody’s sorry, remember?” said Beanie.

“Don’t worry about old Eustian, Beanie. He was a born loner,” said Hadley.

“Now, he’s gonna be a dead-alone born loner,” said Beanie.

“Don’t fret, Bean,” Hadley said. “This is exactly the way Eustian wanted it. Weren’t you listening to Preacher Jake. Orville is carrying out Eustian’s wishes.”

Beanie had a deep crease in his forehead. Hadley knew he was still stewing about Eustian alone in this end of the cemetery.

“Tell you what, Bean. We’ll stop by The Creamery for an ice cream soda when this is all over.”

“Okay,” said Beanie, now standing stock still and dreaming of a strawberry double-decker chocolate syrup, three maraschino cherries, and four scoops of homemade pink goodness floating in soda and topped with homemade whipping cream.

“We are gathered today to remember our brother, Eustian Singlepenny. It is not often a man like Mr. Singlepenny comes our way.”

“And,” added Beanie, in case Preacher Jake forgot to mention it, “we are truly glad about that.”

“Beanie,” said Hadley, “strawberries and cream.”

“I’ll be good, Hadley. Not another word,” said Beanie.

Preacher Jake said a few more words. Unless the pastor went off on a long list of Eustian’s slights and trespasses and the many, many injustices and wrongs that this one man had committed against the good folks of Hope Rock County, there wasn’t much left for Jake to say. He recited a few verses of scripture.

“Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. We commend your spirit to this ground. May you rest in peace, Eustian Singlepenny.”

“Amen,” said Hadley and Beanie.

Beanie looked around.

“What’s the matter?” Hadley asked.

“I was just looking for a shovel,” Beanie said.

“Come on, Bean,” Hadley said, “let’s see if we can get this old truck in gear. You and I have a date at The Creamery. Remember?”

“Yeah, Hadley. That’s right. We do.”

“But first, I’ve got to drop off these overdue books to Miz Anna down at the library.”

H
adley parked
the truck in front of the library.

“Beanie,” she said, “do you want to go in with me or wait out here.”

“I’ll wait here, if you don’t mind, Hadley,” Beanie said. “All them books in Miz Anna’s library sitting on them shelves staring me in the face make me feel dumber than a tree frog yodeling in a cricket choir.”

“Beanie,” Hadley said, “those books aren’t there to make people feel dumb. They are resources. They are symbols of knowledge waiting to teach hungry souls who thirst after their treasures. All those choices, all those words, all those pages.”

“Really,” Beanie said. “Boy, Hadley. You must go treasure hunting a lot.”

“No. I haven’t darkened the door to Miz Anna’s library in ages. Harry was the bookworm in the family. Not me. He wanted me to get a computer, an
iPad, anything that would bring me into the Internet Age. But I refused. I’m an old stick in the mud.

“He never mentioned it again, even though he used those gadgets in his job all the time. When I think about it, Bean, Harry was a lot like me. We were just two old sticks.

“Even though he was connected, as they say, he still loved his books and newspapers. I think Harry liked the feel of real paper pages between his fingers. I think Harry liked going old school, every now and then. That’s why he was always paying Miz Anna a visit. But you do have a point. Maybe I need to start visiting Miz Anna more often. Keep the old brain cells hitting on all cylinders.”

“My brain cells are just fine,” Beanie said. “Trying to read all them pages Miz Anna’s got in that place would give me a my-brain headache. Not to mention wearing out my eyes.”

“Now, Beanie, if I were going to read all of the books Miz Anna has in that library, I’d wear my eyes out, too. But here’s how it works: you pick and choose. A couple books here. A couple later.

“That’s how Harry did it.

“Gives the old eyeballs time to rest and the my-brain time to go away. And that’s why we’re here. I’m going to say ‘howdy’ to Miz Anna. These are books Harry signed out before he died. I found them when Onus and I were cleaning out some stuff in the attic.”

“Who do you think you’re fooling, Hadley?” Beanie said. “Onus is your cat. Not your maid.”

“That’s what you think, Beanie. That cat spends more time licking and cleaning than Carter’s got little liver pills.”

“That’s a lotta time,” Beanie observed.

“About as much time as these books are overdue. Lord, have mercy! I hope when I come outta this library the late fees Miz Anna charges me doesn’t mean I own all those books she’s got lined up on all those shelves.”

“Me, too,” said Beanie. “I really am hankering for that strawberry soda. Hankering real bad.”

“Don’t worry,” Hadley said. “We’ll make it to The Creamery, even if I have to take out a loan!”

“But Hadley, it ain’t raining, today. There’s not a cloud in the sky.”

“No, there’s not. Don’t worry. This is not going to be one of those rainy days we have to visit the bank. Miz Anna will take pity on me. I’m sure of it.”

Hadley opened the door and climbed down from the truck. Brinkley’s hinges could use a shot of grease, she thought as she walked up to the library.

“I hope Miz Anna’s not wearing her iron girdle, today,” Hadley muttered to herself.

As she opened the large glass-paneled door, Hadley put on her friendliest smile.

She hoped nothing was stuck in her teeth. On top of all of these overdue books of Harry’s,
that
would be all she needed.

“
W
ho have we here
?” Anna said.

Anna was a tall, elegant lady whose posture was ram-rod straight. Her flawless skin was the color of café au lait. Her hands were long with slender fingers like a pianist. She was beautiful and feminine, with intelligent brown eyes.

Anna had been in the Air Force, and she ran the Hope Rock County Library like a well-oiled barracks. She had in flown jet tankers over Iraq. She had met her husband, Stanley Spangler, who had also been a pilot but retired from the service eight years ago. It was an easy decision for Anna and Stanley to marry, but for Anna, it meant leaving the military. She and Stanley wanted to be together. Stanley could be stationed anywhere. If Anna stayed in the military, they risked being stationed at other ends of the world.

So, Anna obtained her discharge and went back to school and earned her bachelor’s degree. She and Stanley had two daughters, Amelia and Shelley. Both girls were married. Amelia was living in Washington State with her husband and small son. Shelley was in the Navy.

When Stanley retired, he wanted to find a small, quiet, peaceful community that was 360 degrees different from the large military bases where he had been stationed.

“I’ve seen the world,” he said. “Now, it’s time to find our own little corner of heaven.”

Hope Rock County seemed like a good fit. The small airport, a couple of hangers and one runway was up for sale. Stanley and Anna decided to buy the place. They placed a small mobile home nearby.

Anna got a job in the library and was given the position of librarian when Callah McNally retired. Stanley ran the Hope Rock County airport. Tourists and a few local pilots kept the little runway busy.

Anna and Stanley were happy in Hope Rock County. They immediately began to participate in the local events. Anna was a booster in one of the local elementary school’s parent-teacher groups. Stanley taught ham radio courses at the local community college thirty-two miles away.

They regularly skyped Amelia and her family and kept tabs with Shelley through email and cell phone. The couple recently adopted a small beagle from the pound. They named it Louis, for Charles Lindbergh’s spunky little plane.

Anna never lost the spunk that made her such a good pilot. And it was that same Anna Spangler that Hadley dreaded facing with Harry’s delinquent library books. How they ever got stuffed in the attic was a mystery. And what would the charges be after all these years?

But Hadley had to return them. There were no ifs, buts, or ands about it.

Keeping them would be stealing. And Hadley had too much pride to leave them in a paper bag on the library’s front steps. Besides, they would have records where they’d scanned Harry’s library card. Even after all these years.

So, it was time to face the music and Miz Anna, the librarian of Hope Rock County Library.

“Hello,” Hadley said.

H
adley sat
the books on Anna’s desk with a thud.

“What’s this?” Anna asked.

Hadley felt like a three-year-old whose hand had just been caught in the cookie jar. Maybe it was the fact that the librarian’s desk stood up on a podium-like structure, allowing Anna a good view across the whole library.

Kids could get unruly, sometimes. Especially the boys showing off for their friends. Whatever it was, the fact that the librarian towered over her always made Hadley feel three inches shorter than a grub worm.

“Ah, Anna,” Hadley stammered, “I was cleaning out the attic and ran across these books.”

“Good,” Anna said, opening the bag and stacking the books in two neat rows in front of her.

The librarian immediately began opening the books, checking the cards and the dates rubber-stamped inside them.

“A little overdue, I see,” Anna said, typing some figures quickly on her computer screen.

“Well, um,” Hadley began.

But before she could explain, Anna finished her calculations and turned toward her.

“$437.15,” Anna said.

Hadley Pell literally became Pale Hadley before Anna’s eyes.

“Relax, Hadley,” Anna said, smiling. “I was only kidding. Harry was a wonderful patron of this library. His selections were incredibly varied and always interesting. He and I talked often. Harry was like me. A lifelong learner. Thanks for returning these. I miss your husband, Hadley. I really do.”

“I do, too,” Hadley replied.

“You should visit more often. Harry was always talking about you. I feel I know you almost as well as I got to know him,” Anna said.

Hadley was beaming. Here she was dreading this like a trip to the dentist, but Anna Spangler was so warm and friendly. It was a side of her that Hadley had never seen.

“You know, Anna, I have to admit, before today, I always believed what they said about you.”

“What’s that?” Anna asked. “That I am a wicked witch who guards the keys of this library and runs it like a jail and lends these books like some ugly troll under the bridge?”

“Well, not that exactly,” Hadley said.

“But some version, I’m sure.” .

“I guess so,” said Hadley, suddenly embarrassed that she may have offended Anna.

“Don’t worry. It’s an act I keep up for the kids’ sake. They’d break the computers if they didn’t think I was watching them like a hawk. Budgets being what they are, I have to see that the equipment is taken care of so that it will last as long as possible.

“Do you know how many of the kids would check out a book and never return it if I didn’t act like the warden of Alcatraz? They’d ‘lose’ them in a creek or let the dog eat them or one of a hundred other excuses. And some of the parents are just as bad. Books and learning are not viewed as anything of importance in so many homes, Hadley. Harry and I often talked of this. We shared a love for them. Even in the computer age.”

“I didn’t know,” Hadley said. “I’m glad you told me. I was doing some cleaning. I found them in the attic. I don’t know how they got up there. Maury probably stored them there when she was helping me after Harry died.”

“Your fees are forgiven,” Anna said.

“Thanks, Anna.”

“But there is one thing you might do for me,” Anna said.

“Name it. You’ve just saved me a bundle,” said Hadley.

“Sometime when you’re nearby, drop off some of your homemade doughnuts. Sheriff Bill is always saying how good they are.”

“I will,” Hadley said. “I will be glad to. And I’ll throw in a thermos of coffee, too.”

Hadley left, walking out like the weight of the world had been suddenly lifted from her shoulders.