Nobody's Sorry You're Dead: A Hadley Pell Cozy Mystery (19 page)

Who left behind that plastic bottle?

Someone intent on framing Sandy Miller. Someone, like Teddy Croft?

Or, was leaving the bottle behind on purpose a mark of Sandy Miller’s genius?

These questions tied Bill up in knots. It surely looked like another night of tossing and turning and more questions than answers.

“
B
eanie
,” Hadley said. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Nothin’,” Beanie said. “Why?”

“Wanna go snipe hunting with me?”

“Hadley,” Beanie said, “there ain’t no such thing as snipes. They played that trick on me when I was a kid.”

“Figure of speech, Beanie,” Hadley said. “I had a long talk with Bill, today.”

“Did he arrest you, Hadley?” Beanie asked.

“No, of course not,” Hadley said. “Anyway, Bill and I talked over some things.”

“Top secret,” said Beanie.

“You might say that. Bill made a lot of sense. I’ll admit, I even thought along the same lines as he, but what if we are both wrong?”

“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” Beanie said.

“Exactly,” Hadley said.

“You got snacks?”

“Not with me, Bean, but if you come with me, I’ll be sure to pack a bunch.”

“Where we going, Hadley,” Beanie said, “to hunt snipe, I mean. No wait a minute. To hunt the things that there ain’t no such thing as. I think that’s what I mean.”

“Oh, I thought we might head over to Croft Orchard. You like to play cops and robbers, Beanie?”

“Sure, Hadley,” Beanie said. “But I don’t like to be the robbers. They always lose.”

“We’re the good guys, tonight, Bean,” Hadley said. “You and me. Like on television. You can be Tonto.”

“I can be Tonto!” Beanie said. “Tonto Bean.”

Beanie looked pensive,

“What?” Hadley asked.

“Tonto Beans and cornbread,” said Beanie. “I don’t know if I want to be that, Hadley.”

“No,” said Hadley, “that’s pinto beans and cornbread.”

“Oh,” said Beanie. “Okay, Hadley. I’ll be your Tonto Bean, then.”

“Good,” Hadley said. “I’ll pick you up at eight. Bring your pillow. It’s going to be a long night.”

“Heap long night, Kemo Sabe.”

“You said it, Tonto Bean.”

H
adley picked
Beanie up at eight sharp. He had his pillow. Hadley had a backseat full of snacks and a gallon jar of brewed coffee. She preferred her java piping hot, but in a pinch, cold coffee would do.

Beanie would not complain. She brought enough sugar to turn his into syrup.

She let the car coast down the road near Rayna’s house. In the darkness, the lights in Rayna’s windows looked like golden squares of warmth and hominess. Hadley rolled her windows down.

“What are we doing, Hadley?” Beanie asked.

“We’re on surveillance, Bean.”

“Who’s that?” Beanie asked. “I never heard of no Sir Valences living around here.”

“We’re watching,” Hadley said.

“Watching for what?” Beanie asked.

“Shooting stars,” Hadley said.

“Oh,” said Beanie. “Which star is named Sir Valence, Hadley?”

“That big one over there,” Hadley said, pointing to the right. “But don’t quote me on that, okay. Harry was the star gazer, not me. You want something to eat?”

“If I eat now,” Beanie said, “I’ll have a full belly. The next thing I’ll want to do is doze off. I always doze off if my belly’s full at night, Hadley.”

“Feel free to eat and snooze, Beanie.”

Beanie ate his fill. He yawned, content and satisfied.

“If you see a shooting star, will you wake me up?” Beanie asked.

“I sure will.”

Beanie fluffed his pillow and was sawing logs minutes later.

Hadley pulled out Harry’s binoculars. Useless in the dark. There was a sliver of a moon. It provided some light, but not enough to distinguish much more than Rayna’s house and a few large trees.

Shoot
, thought Hadley.

She would never be able to tell if Teddy Croft was lurking around. But she dare not park closer. How would she explain the fact that she and Beanie were staking out Rayna’s house?

“Morning, Hadley,” Rayna said, standing beside Hadley’s opened window. “You and Beanie get lost?”

“Ah, no,” said Hadley.

“We wuz . . .”

Beanie started to explain that they were only watching for shooting stars, but Hadley’s hand on his leg hushed him instantly. It was their signal, Hadley’s and Beanie’s, long ago agreed upon, to keep Beanie out of trouble.

“Actually, I woke up really early this morning with a hankering for a peck of apricots. I drove over here first thing, with Beanie, and realized it was way too early for me to knock on your door and ask if you were picking, today. Guess me and Beanie just settled down in the car and nodded off.”

“Why, yes, Hadley,” Rayna said. “We will be picking this morning. But why didn’t you just call?”

“Hadley’s been hanging around me too long. I rub off on folks that way,” said Beanie.

Hadley breathed a sigh of relief. Sometimes, Beanie voiced the wisdom of the ages.

“Richie should be coming back with some, shortly,” Rayna said. “Wait at the shed. He’ll take care of you.”

“Thanks,” Hadley said, driving her car to the shed as Richie was driving up with the tractor and a load of fruit.

“Hey, Hadley,” Richie said.

“I need a peck of apricots, Richie,” Hadley said.

“They’re beautiful this year. And a bumper crop, too,” Richie said.

“They are, Richie.”

Hadley handed Richie the money.

“I haven’t got the money box out of the house, yet,” Richie said. “I owe you seventy-three cents.”

“Keep it as a tip, Richie,” Hadley said.

“Thanks, Miz Pell. Save the pits. Mama does all the time. You can grow good trees from them.”

“Thank, Richie. I will,” Hadley said.

“What you gonna do with all those?” Beanie asked.

“I’m going to cook them into cakes and pies,” Hadley said.

“All of them?” Beanie asked.

“No, Beanie. I’m saving six of the best ones just for you. Here,” she said, counting out six prize apricots. “But mind you, don’t eat them all at once. You’ll get the runs.”

“Runs are no fun, Hadley.”

“Definitely not,” Hadley said, steering the car toward home.

* * *

“
B
ill
, I’ve been researching poisons,” Hadley said.

“Been talking to the beauty shop bunch, again?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Hadley asked. “They think Eustian was poisoned with cyanide, don’t they, Bill.”

‘”Bowey’s Hill is very thorough, Hadley. That’s about all I can say. Did you and Beanie see Teddy Croft the other night?”

“Not hide nor hair,” Hadley said. “And who told you?”

“I ran into Rayna. She said you and Beanie were out at her place at the crack of dawn. She said you two had fallen asleep in the car waiting for her to open the orchard gates. That sounded fishy to me. I ran into Beanie later. He told me you two were searching for shooting stars, and you had pointed out the big star named Sir Valence to him.”

“Well, like I said,” Hadley said, ignoring the last part of Bill’s comment, “I’ve been doing some research. Checked out a bunch of books from the library. Poisons are all around us. Anybody can get their hands on the stuff. All you need is a credit card and access to the Internet. Anybody could have killed Eustian. He’s been pulling that same scam on good folks forever. Eustian’s made a lot of enemies over the years.”

“I know,” Bill said. “I think, like everybody else. Eustian made up a lie. He sued Sandy hoping to recoup some of the money he’d paid out for those tractor parts.

”Sandy’s good. He does good work. And it doesn’t come cheap. Eustian was out a pretty penny for those parts, I’m sure. Then, he comes up with that cockamamie story that Sandy stole stuff while in his barn. That’s a crock of bull if I ever heard it.

“You know it, and I know it, but Eustian wouldn’t back down. He spread that story like stink on a skunk. That’s how he’s hoodooed people out of money for years. Most folks just fold and settle out of court when somebody threatens something like that.”

“But,” said Hadley, “not Sandy. I just don’t think Sandy did it, Bill. He’s not that type.”

“And exactly what type of person kills?” Bill asked. “You never know what another person is truly thinking, Hadley. I’ve learned that much over the years. So many people I’ve arrested, I would never in a million years think they were guilty of the things that they were accused of. Do you know how we solve crimes, Hadley?”

“No, but I wouldn’t think this area is exactly riddled with murderers and rapists.”

“You’re right,” Bill said. “We have tools we use like fingerprints, but the main way crimes are solved is through folks coming to us with something that doesn’t add up. Somebody said something that someone else over heard. Suspicions from a family member or friend.

“Somebody comes to us with information.

Informers, if you like.

Or a rumor starts that we track down.

“And a lot of it comes down to luck. I shouldn’t tell you this, but I know I can trust you, I found a plastic bottle of cyanide solution in Eustian’s house. It’s what Sandy uses to gold plate stuff. It was under the kitchen table near where we found Eustian’s body. Sandy swears he never set foot inside the house. Swears Eustian wouldn’t let him. Swears he wasn’t missing any of bottles of that solution.

“It’s got me puzzled.

“I admit I arrested Gunn Miller because of the threats he made at the Spoon. Gunn is a hothead. Then, I got the call from the medical examiner.

“I started thinking this crime took a lot of forethought and planning. Gunn Miller isn’t the type who plans anything. He just reacts. Sandy is meticulous. Careful. He’s got the brains to think something like this through. And he’s patient.”

“But why leave the bottle of cyanide solution right under the table. That’s dumb, Bill,” Hadley said.

“I don’t know. That what’s got me bum-fuzzled. Sandy’s smart. He’d never make a mistake like that.”

“Unless he’s so smart, he’d realize that’s the conclusion everybody would make. Sandy’s too smart to leave something that incriminating behind,” Hadley said.

“I thought about that. If he did do it, better to act normal. Like nothing’s happened.”

“Could Sandy be that cold?” Hadley asked.

“I don’t know. If he is, he played his part perfectly. He had that court appearance that morning. Sandy showed up. Eustian did not. Now, we know why.”

“So, you think Sandy set this up to make himself look so guilty that nobody would believe he did this?” Hadley asked.

“Either that,” Bill said, “or somebody else planted that bottle to make Sandy look guilty.”

“What if Teddy Croft did it?” Hadley asked. “I mean, what if he bought some of that stuff Sandy uses. Sandy explains the process to anyone who shows any interest at the flea market. He’s told me gold plating before. He didn’t have the actual bottles of solution he used the day he talked to me, but he had printouts of a supply list and where you could get the stuff he uses. What if Teddy came back and Sandy instructed him. You know, not realizing it was Teddy Croft he was educating. And Teddy ordered the stuff, killed Eustian, planted the incriminating empty bottle of cyanide solution where somebody would be sure to discover it, and he’s gone back under whatever rock he’s been hiding under all these years?”

“I don’t know, Hadley,” Bills said. “I think that’s a long shot.”

“Well,” said Hadley, “whoever set did it is one smart cookie. I wouldn’t have the smarts to pull it off.”

“Me either,” said Bill. “Maury says Beanie’s helping you with the bazaar.”

“Yeah,” Hadley said. “I feel bad that we haven’t been able to clean out Eustian’s house. I promised him half of that hundred dollars.”

“Money doesn’t mean much to a guy like Beanie,” Bill said.

“I know,” Hadley said. “But I still feel guilty.”

T
he morning
of the annual bazaar and bake sale dawned sunny and beautiful.

“I like Saturdays,” Beanie said, munching on a cookie.

“Beanie, I swear if you don’t stop stealing cookies, I won’t have a one to sell,” Hadley said.

“I want to say I’m sorry, Hadley, but I’m not. Your cookies are so good.”

“Thanks, Bean. But help me load these cakes into the car. And no more sneaking bites. Remember, Beanie, all we make today goes for a good cause. Just help me get this stuff loaded. I should have rented Brinkley’s old truck. At this rate, I’ll break an axel.”

Main Street was filling up with card tables and tablecloths. Every lady in the church group had agreed to bake and bring their bounty.

“It looks like the circus is coming to town,” Beanie observed.

“Good thing, too,” said Hadley. “My freezer’s full to the brim. There’s not an inch of storage space left. I would have to crumble up all the leftovers and feed them to the birds if the turnout was low.”

“Oh, you would not,” Beanie said. “I’d gladly eat any crumb you throw my way. You’re the best cook around.”

“Thanks, old pal,” said Hadley. “Now, let’s get these cookies and pies and cakes set out. From what I’ve learned about these things, the briskest sales are before lunch.”

Hadley and Beanie unloaded the car. Her card tables strained under the many baked goods she presented.

Rayna set her tables on one side of Hadley. Juanita Hide set up on the other side.

“Rayna, how are you?” Hadley asked.

“I’m good. You?”

“Fine,” Hadley said.

“Richie, put those at the front,” Rayna said. “They always go first. That’s it.”

“Oh, no,” Hadley said.

“What is it?” Rayna asked.

“Juanita didn’t take out suggestion. She’s brought her casserole concoctions, just like always. I thought she was going to bring plants.”

“Well,” said Rayna, “change is hard. Maybe she couldn’t bear to part with her plants. I know she’s funny about her flowers.”

“I wish she was funny about her casseroles, and she’d leave them at home.”

“Shhh,” Rayna said. “She’ll hear you, Hadley.”

“Hey, Sis,” Hadley said to Maury, giving her a hug.

“I heard what you two were talking about,” said Maury. “I guess Juanita gets an ‘A’ for effort. She’s trying.”

The day went by quickly. Cakes and pies and cookies and bread sold like hot cakes. Sales were brisk, and everyone seemed to be in a good mood.

At the end of the afternoon, Juanita’s offerings were still on her table.

Fred Hide had a sad look on his face.

“Hadley, is Fred sick?”

“What makes you say that, Bean?”

“I dunno. He looks like his shoes are too little.”

Maury laughed.

“I bet I know what’s wrong. Who’s Fred gonna get to eat Juanita’s stuff, Hadley?” Maury said. “Eustian’s gone. I think you were wrong when you said nobody’s sorry he’s dead. Look at Fred. He looks real sorry. I’d help Fred out, but Hadley, Eustian musta lost his sense of taste or something. I eat just about anything that’s not nailed down, but Juanita’s casseroles are something even I can’t stomach. They taste worse than I don’t know what, and they’re so rubbery.”

“Juanita’s cooking tastes real bad, Hadley,” Beanie said. “The taste of tar is better than eating Juanita’s cooking.”

Hadley stopped in her tracks. She looked as if she’d been struck by a bolt of lightening.

“Bean,” Hadley said, “stay here and watch the table.”

“But Hadley, your stuff sold out an hour ago. There ain’t nuthin’ left to watch but a few crumbs the ants haven’t taken off. You think Bunker will show up for a crumb picnic?”

“Well, he might. Watch for Bunker, okay? Watch the tablecloths. Make sure they don’t blow away. We want to have plenty of crumbs for Bunker and all his relations to feast on. I’ll be right back.”

“Where’s Hadley off to in such a hurry?” Juanita asked.

“I don’t know,” said Maury.

“I don’t know, either,” said Beanie. “I have to run off in the woods sometimes if I eat too much. Maybe Hadley’s ate too many pieces of cake.”

“I don’t want to know if that’s the reason, do you, Juanita?” Maury said.

Juanita looked at Maury and Beanie with a funny look on her face.

“You gotta pain, too, Juanita? Your face sure does look like you do. The woods are that way,” Beanie said, careful to stand in front of Hadley’s tables and make sure the crumbs stayed just where they were.

So far, Beanie had yet to spy Bunker.