Nobody's Sorry You're Dead: A Hadley Pell Cozy Mystery (4 page)

“I don’t know, Hadley. Maybe Alice Beasley is retiring or something. Maybe it’s gotten to be too big of a job for one person. I don’t know. All I do know is that I’ve been offered a job. I can’t look a gift horse in the mouth. It’s a good job. The pay is good, and if I stay with the county, I have been promised a pension. Hadley! We can get married. This is a full-time position. What do you say? Will you do me the honor of being my wife?

What do I say? How about good-bye Richmond. Hello, same-ole same-ole.

There was something in Harry’s eyes that told Hadley he was going to take the job – with or without her.

“I love you, Harry,” Hadley said.

“But . . .” Harry added.

“No buts. I love you. Yes. Yes. Yes. The answer is yes!”

Harry picked Hadley up by the waist and spun her around like a top.

“Jump in with both feet,” Hadley said. “No turning back.”

“No turning back,” said Harry. “Let’s find a justice of the peace. We can get hitched and be in Hope Rock right after you snatch your diploma.”

“Hope Rock County, Harry,” Hadley said.

“What?”

“If you’re going to take up residence there, you might as well sound like you know the place. Everyone who lives there calls it Hope Rock County.”

“Harry and Hadley of Hope Rock County. It’s got a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Hadley kissed Harry. True to her word, she married him, moved back to Hope Rock County, and never looked back. She never regretted her decision, unlike so many others that she had made on the spur of the moment, because Harry was definitely a keeper. Hadley was just glad she had been the one to catch him.

* * *

M
aury and Hadley
had been sitting long enough in the glider swing to have the little designs of its metal seat imprinted on their behinds. So far, the comings and goings of the townsfolk in Hope Rock County had proven to be anything but exciting. Watching the two traffic lights at either end of Main Street cycle red, yellow, green endlessly was really quite boring.

In response to Maury’s inquiry concerning her decision to come back home to roost, Hadley responded, “Sorry? Not on your life, come on. Let’s go back inside. We’ve spied on these poor people long enough.”

The two rose from their seat.

“Besides,” said Hadley, “I think I’ve given Onus about enough time to have turned the whole house upside down, don’t you? That cat pouts like all get out when left to his own devices for too long.”

“You ought to get him a playmate,” Maury said. “Somebody to keep him company.”

“You think? And where would I live? Onus owns the house. Harry made the money. Onus lets me hang around just to pay the bills, clean the house, and keep his kitty dish full of food and his litter box emptied.”

“That cat can’t be as bad as that,” Maury said.

“Obviously,” Hadley said, “you’ve never owned anything but dogs.”

“Give me a hand with these lawn chairs, Maury. I need to get them out of the sun. I’m afraid if I don’t, they’ll be so dry rotted we’ll end up with grass stains on our behinds the next time we try to sit in them.”

Hadley and her sister folded up the lawn chairs, laying them against the side of the house.

Hadley wanted to ask Maury if Bill had said anything about Singlepenny’s death. She would never ask outright because she knew if Maury gleaned any interesting tidbits, she would either keep them to herself or swear Hadley to secrecy under the penalty of death. Maury had not mentioned death penalties, so Hadley decided to keep quiet.

Depending on which side of the bed Bill got up on any given day, the sheriff might rankle at his sister-in-law’s meddling. Hadley knew she was prone to go off half-cocked on wild goose chases, and her inquisitive nature often overruled her common sense. Her curiosity had gotten her into more than a few pickles, but it was those pickling spices that made life interesting.

At least from Hadley’s point of view.

She needed to stay on Bill’s good side though and not push her luck. Whenever she found herself in a sour situation, pickling spices or not, it was her brother-in-law who came to her rescue.

This was especially true since Harry passed. Bill was a busy man, and the sheriff’s duties for the whole county kept him hopping. But snooping and nosing had always been one of Hadley’s true passions. Kind of like entering contests.

It wasn’t her fault if she was observant and had a sixth sense for reading in between the lines. This knack enabled her to reach conclusions that others often missed. And she had a nagging feeling that there was something she was missing.

Something. Something. Something.

It was driving her crazy.

She only wanted to help.

Singlepenny’s death was annoying her like an itch that drives you up a wall. One of those irritating annoyances that won’t stop and that you cannot reach.

And then, there was Eustian’s habit of constantly suing one neighbor or another in the small town. No doubt he held a world record for the number of lawsuits heard in the county courthouse.

As if tormenting Ruth Elliot wasn’t enough, Eustian decided to up his game a notch by suing Maggie Miller’s oldest son, Sandy. One lawsuit wasn’t enough. Eustian felt litigating two at one time would be even better. Hadley stewed. These cases really bothered her. There wasn’t much gossip about Ruth’s case. According to Lou Edna, Sandy had done some work for the old man on his old tractor. After the job was completed, Eustian claimed valuable property was missing from one of his barns. Eustian blamed Sandy Miller. Sandy denied any wrongdoing.

Sandy’s mother, Maggie Miller, was one of Hadley’s oldest friends. Maggie was going through heck, and Hadley knew it. The charges Eustian had brought up against Sandy were silly but serious.

Nobody who really knew him thought for one minute Sandy was guilty. But suspicion and doubt started hanging over Sandy’s head like a black cloud, and it was a classic case of one man’s word against another. Eustian was a dumpster of trouble, and like any good garbage receptacle, he was very good at stirring up a bad smell. His accusations were tarnishing the Miller name, not to mention wrecking the business at Sandy’s metal shop.

Suddenly, no one wanted to do business with a man they’d known all his life because he just might be a thief. It was ludicrous! But if things didn’t turn around soon, Sandy might have to close the doors. That shop was Sandy’s life. It was proving more than Maggie could bear.

During all this uproar, Hadley had not been able to do one thing to ease Maggie’s burden. What good was having a friend, if you couldn’t lend her a hand in a pinch?

Hadley didn’t know where to start.

Maybe, if given a chance, she could put two and two together and come up with four – instead of six-and-a-half, help get Sandy out of his legal muddle, and help Maggie feel better to boot. Hadley just needed the chance to do something. Anything to help out. And she heard the clock ticking.

Loudly.

Time was running out.

If somebody didn’t soon figure a way out of this tangle, Sandy would be ruined financially. His reputation would be in tatters. His future would be destroyed. These thoughts kept scurrying in circles in her skull like riders on a solar-powered merry-go-round stuck at the North Pole during those unending days of the midnight sun.

No opportunity had presented itself yet, though.

Zilch. Zero. Nada.

There was nothing to do but wait and watch and listen – and hope some clue would fall at her feet like manna from the sky. It was a lot to wish for, Hadley knew.

In the meantime, she’d be satisfied with life’s simple pleasures.

It was time to go inside and fix Maury and herself a tall, cold glass of tangy orangeade. Some of that orange flavored deliciousness would sure hit the spot.

Hadley was pleasantly surprised when she opened her back door. The house looked remarkably like she had left it. Perhaps Onus had decided to cut Hadley some slack and had wandered off under the bed to hunt dust bunnies. Those little pests miraculously managed to sprout in the darkness when nobody was looking. Maybe, he could manage to get rid of them. She never could.

She went to the fridge and removed some ice cubes from the freezer. She placed them into two tall glasses. She retrieved the jar of orange powder from the counter and added two heaping tablespoons to the ice-filled glasses. Now, a few squirts of seltzer water, a quick stir, and they were ready.

Hadley placed the glasses down on the table and went to the cupboard and retrieved a pack of cookies. Orange and chocolate.

Sounded good to Hadley.

Unless, it wasn’t.

But you never knew until you tried it!

She rounded up Maury, who had wandered off into the den, and together they sat down with cookies and a cold drink. Nothing like a party with orangeade and cookies to cap off a really good day.

T
he old man
had not been home. Wonderful. It had taken only a few minutes to put the plan into place. Everything looked good. And it had been surprisingly easy – once you wrapped your head around the fact that you were actually going to do it.

Now, the only thing to do was sit back and wait. Keep your head on straight. Act totally normal. Keep your mouth shut, and no one would ever suspect. That was the beauty of it all.

And it was a good plan.

Foolproof, really.

Getting into the car, there was the moment when a tinge of guilt scratched at the conscious mind. It had to happen, if you had any conscience at all.

But it was only a minor tinge. And it was not for the old man or for the way he was going to die. That twinge of remorse would never be wasted on an old troublemaker who had ruined so many lives for so long.

No, sir.

The ounce of regret was because he should have been stopped long ago, and it took all this time to summon the amount of courage needed to get the job done.

A stitch in time saves nine.

The early bird gets the worm.

Don’t wait till tomorrow to cook the old goose.

Throw him into the fire, NOW!

Watch him burn.

What a wicked little rhyme.

The driver cranked the engine and backed out of the driveway of Eustian Singlepenny’s house.

“
H
adley Jane Pell
,” Maury said, “have you lost your ever-lovin’ mind?”

Hadley had phoned her sister to tell her the good news.

“You just wait till Bill gets home. I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. And when I’m finished with that I’m going to give him a good swift kick in the seat of his pants! I can’t believe he suggested that to you, Hadley! He knows you have a talent for always finding ways to get into enough trouble on your own without giving you any encouragement.”

“Don’t you say anything to Bill, Maury. Promise me. I’m pulling the big sister act on you. I mean it. Not one word. I’m glad he thought of me.”

“Glad! Huh, you’re glad! I’m mortified! What is everyone going to say when they hear about this? Oh, my stars! I’ll be hiding under the bed! Hiding in shame, Hadley!”

“Well,” Hadley said, “at least I’ll know to go to your bedroom when I can’t find you in the kitchen.”

“You’re incorrigible.

“Why do you go all over the county like a day laborer begging work? Harry left you enough, for goodness sakes! It’s embarrassing! People already think you are doing these odd jobs to scrounge up enough money to eat!

“Emmaline Houston as much as told me that in those exact same words, Hadley. She thinks you need to scrounge up work to pay the light bill! To keep a roof over your head and put gas in the car! Hadley! Please!”

“Not another word, Maury,” Hadley said, sipping her large cup of coffee.

Of course, she knew Maury would ignore her last comment.

“And cleaning out a dead man’s house!” Maury went on. “Are you crazy!

Hadley, that is Eustian Singlepenny’s junk hole we’re talking about!

“Eustian Singlepenny!

“What on earth are you thinking?

“I’ll tell you what you’re thinking!

“You’re not thinking!

“That’s the trouble with you, Hadley. You don’t think! You just jump in! Both feet and no shoes!

“Well, you’re knee deep in the mud hole, this time! You’ll be smothered in dust or bitten by black widows! You’ll be carried off by roaches longer than my arm! The flies will beat you with a nasty stick.

“You’ll probably end up with some awful disease that a trip to the doctor’s office can’t cure! I’ll bet you that old house is infested with rats! Rats! Hadley! Big wharf rats! The kind you’ll drag home because they’ve hitched a ride in your car.

“You’re liable to wake up in the middle of the night and have big hairy whiskers and two yellow gnawing teeth staring you in the face! That monster will be growling and smiling and hungry and smelling musty like Eustian Singlepenny!

“I could just faint thinking about all the filth you’re going to be getting yourself into. Not to mention, the crud you will bring to your house! And from your house, it will find its way to mine! Did you hear me?

“I said who knows what you’ll bring to my house!

“And it’s not like you’re going to be able to start tomorrow. I read the papers, too, Hadley. They are going to autopsy that codger. He’s in some fridge in Bowey Hill right this minute just waiting his turn on the table. Goose feathers and camel humps! I get the willies just saying that!

“And who knows when they’ll get that old goat in the ground! You’ve really done it this time, big sister! You’ve tied yourself down for I don’t know how long with this latest scheme!

“And Bill is your guilty co-conspirator! I don’t know who I am madder at, you or him! I don’t think I will ever live this down, Hadley. Don’t you think about what your neighbors say? Forget the neighbors! Don’t you care what your friends will say! Hadley, you may be my sister, but I truly believe you’ve lost all your marbles agreeing to do this!”

“Oh, Mary Maureen,” Hadley said, eyeing a glazed doughnut she’d place in lidded plastic bowl to keep fresh, “stop hyperventilating. You know if I really cared about the old man, I’d never be able to do it. It would tear me up too badly. But Eustian Singlepenny is a unique case. I hate to say it, but nobody’s sorry he’s dead.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say, Hadley.”

“I know that. But it’s the truth,” Hadley said.

“Yes, it probably is,” said Maury, “but it’s still awful.”

Hadley crunched the phone under her neck and opened the lid of the bowl. The smell of all that sugar-glazed goodness was divine. She pushed the lid back down, hearing the “pop”, and knew the bowl was closed tightly.

It would keep a little while longer.

Maury had not skipped a beat.

“Breathe,” Hadley said. “You really will pass out. I have a college degree, Maury. It’s not like these jobs are above my intellectual capabilities. Some of them are rather interesting.

“Maybe I feel guilty. I don’t know. Dad shelled out all that dough just so I could go to school, and how did I repay him? I married Harry right after graduation. I became a housewife. A college-educated housewife-slash-widow who now volunteers occasionally at a wildlife rehab center!

“I feel like I’ve wasted it. Not my life. Don’t get me wrong. We’ve been happy. But, certainly my education should count for something. Maybe cleaning out Eustian’s rat hole is my way of doing atonement for that.

“And no, I do not care what anyone says. Friends or neighbors. If they talk about me, then they are leaving somebody else alone. Besides, it’s not like I’m totally incapable of doing these jobs. And you’re right. I’ll give you that. A lot of them are manual labor. I come home dirty, greasy, smelly, and tired. Really tired. But I’m proud to say that I’m not too proud to get my hands dirty. It’s honest work. Good hard, honest labor.”

“But Hadley,” Maury said.

“Don’t ‘but Hadley’ me, Mary Maureen. You don’t have to rattle around in an empty house with a mean, old bean-kiss-your-foot-I-don’t-care-if-you’re-alive crazy cat like Onus. When Harry was here, staying at home and taking care of him and the house kept me busy. It was enough. But, not now.

“Our occasional volunteering at the shelter is gratifying, I’ll admit, but Ruth doesn’t need us every day. And don’t say ‘get a hobby,’ Maury. I have plenty of hobbies. But I can only stomach so many quilting bees, ladies’ meetings, and bridge parties.

“You know how I love the bread crusts?

“Ethel Banks ate me up the last time I dropped in early to help her get ready for the card game. I was in the kitchen, just lending a hand. She looked like she needed two or three, if you know what I mean. Anyway, she was making her little finger sandwiches to serve to the gals. Using a cookie cutter and aiming it smack-dab in the middle of the bread. Wasting the best part, if you ask me. Nothing left when Ethel got through but snow-white cute little shapes of cottony blandness.

“I was only trying to be helpful, mind you. I told her to bag up all that bread she was wasting and give it to me. I could make stuffing or something out of it. She just looked at me like I’d peed on her kitchen floor.

“She threw those perfectly good crusts right in the trash can so fast, it would make your head spin. She eyed me like I’d asked her to put honest-to-goodness toilet water in the punch bowl.

“Then, she served those dainty, pale cucumber sandwiches, in those ridiculous heart and diamond shapes, like they were royal delights. Pooh! Little cardboard cereal boxes, if you ask me. A mud pie would be tastier! And more filling!

“Why is it such a social crime to serve something edible at those things, Maury? I always go away so hungry, I can’t stand myself.

“I wish those ladies would unlace their girdles and quit trying to prove they are prim and proper and the star pupil of Miss Manners. I want to laugh out loud at all those little pinky fingers waving in the air when those women drink tea.

“Those are the same pinky fingers that clean toilet, scrub out bathtubs, and wipe their kids’ runny noses. We’re just down-to-earth country people. Why can’t those women be happy in the skin they are in instead of trying to pretend they are some posh country club set? I’d never do it because I’d never hear the end of it from you, Mary Maureen. But do you know what I’d like to do at the next card club party?”

“No,” said Maury. “And I’m afraid to ask. But I will. What?”

“I’d like to serve some sloppy joes,” Hadley said, “meatloaf sandwiches, fried potatoes with onions, or gravy and homemade biscuits.
Anything
that would stick to my ribs.”

“Hadley Jane Pell! You wouldn’t dare embarrass me like that. Would you?” Maureen asked.

“Of course not,” Hadley said. “Like I said, you’d never let me live it down. But I really wish I could. I never win at cards, Maury. You know I only play for fun. But boy howdy, they don’t. Some of those vampires are out for blood. You are the only one who will be my partner.”

“I know what you’re saying,” said Maury. “It’s just a game. Even if you win, it’s not like the prize is something you actually want.”

“You said it,” said Hadley. “How many snail shell napkin rings does a body need in one lifetime? All those poor homeless snails. It kills me to think about them. Just because some crafty Katie decides to glue their shells into a million and one different cutesy-patootsie, dust-catching knickknacks! Can you just imagine how Imogene Plunkett and Babe Kirkpatrick would react if I served souse meat and collards and watermelon rind relish at our next get together? Or maybe pinto beans and chitterlings and crackling cornbread or liver pudding and melted cheddar on homemade whole wheat buns! Those women would look at me like I’d stood naked in front of the Pope!”

“Hadley!” Maury shrieked.

“Oh, calm down, Maury. I’m just thinking out loud. I’d never serve anything but the cardboard cutouts for your sake. I do love you that much, little sister.”

“Well, thank you for that, Hadley,” Maury said. “I think.”

“And I have no plans,” Hadley said, “to go to Vatican City anytime soon. My blouse is buttoned, and my jeans are zipped. So, relax.”

Hadley could no longer resist the doughnut. She opened the bowl and dove in, devouring it.

“Hadley?” Maury said. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Hadley said.

It was delicious. Totally worth the wait.

Or maybe
weight
was a better word.

“But back to those jobs, Maury,” Hadley said. “You’re right. I don’t need the money, but I do need to get out of the house and out into the world. You have to understand. These four walls close in on me, sometimes. If I don’t go and do something, I start climbing them. I need to keep busy, and I might as well get paid if I can. What does it hurt?”

“Nothing, I guess. If it makes you happy,” Maury said.

“It does,” Hadley said. “It staves off cabin fever, little sister.

“And promise me, Maury, not a word to Bill. I’m glad he thought of me. My curiosity is so peaked, I feel like Mount Everest. Can you imagine what kind of stuff that old gaffer has hoarded in that house all these years?”

“Do you think you’ll find treasure in all that junk?” Maury asked.

“His mummified mother, more like it,” said Hadley.

“Oh, Hadley!” Maury said. “You’ll give me nightmares!”

“No, I won’t. But that fried-green-tomato stew you insisted on serving Bill and me last Thursday night probably will! Stop trying all those fancy recipes from Elegant Manor Magazine. You live in Hope Rock County, for goodness sakes!”

“But it looked so divine in the picture, Hadley. I simply couldn’t resist. I have to admit, though, I was disappointed. It did taste a bit like soapsuds and licorice, didn’t it. “When will you start cleaning it out?”

“I don’t know,” Hadley said. “They have to finish down at Bowey Hill and get Eustian planted in the cemetery, I suppose. Bill said he’d let me know. Paperwork and all that. Red tape.”

“Well, it’s a job I do not envy you, Hadley.”

“You have no sense of adventure, Maury. It is a bit sad, though, when you think about it. Eustian had no relatives. Nobody’s seen inside that house for ages. If I recollect correctly, his mother’s been dead for over fifteen years. But don’t worry if I do run up on old lady Singlepenny, I’ll be sure to tell her, you said, ‘hey.’”

“Hadley, I am hanging up this phone this minute. You are awful! Awful! Awful! Awful!”

“Don’t I know it!” She chuckled. “I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch, Maury. I’m going to fix homemade chicken salad. Tell Bill I’ll fix enough for his lunch bucket. I know he loves it.”

“I will. Thanks, Hadley. I’ll see you, then.”

Hadley dusted off the doughnut crumbs from her blouse and went to the fridge. She spied the baloney.

You always caught more flies with baloney than you ever could with rocks. In just a few minutes, she had all she needed to set her plan into motion. She grabbed her purse and car keys. She was a woman on a mission. A mission to find her partner. And if she was lucky, he’d agree to be just that – her partner in grime, so to speak.

She had never minded hard work, but sometimes it was better to have some help, rather than to go it all alone. She needed someone who did not mind getting dirty and who had a strong back for any heavy lifting that was required. She also wanted, rather than needed, someone she felt comfortable around. Someone who wouldn’t mind if she was a little sweaty and grubby at the end of the day. Someone who she could talk to and who wouldn’t turn his nose up at the thought of Mrs. Pell rummaging around in the belongings of a dead man. A true chum. A real pal. A good buddy.

Hadley knew just who to commandeer. All she had to do was find him.

Cruising down Main Street she whipped into an empty parking slot. She got out of her car. The sign next to the “No Parking” handicap zone read “One Hour Parking.”

More than enough time.