Ghosts Beneath Us: A Third Spookie Town Murder Mystery (Spookie Town Murder Mysteries Book 3) (17 page)

And nothing else Frank said about the matter could sway the sheriff. It was frustrating to Frank not to be able to force the issue, but he didn’t have the authority. So as desperately as he wanted an autopsy on Clementine, he knew he wasn’t going to get it. He could ask Kate to request one, but he had the feeling she wouldn’t agree to it. She’d want her mother, considering her age and her illness, to go to her grave as she’d lived her life: her corpse not desecrated.

After the ambulance collected the body and was on its way to the morgue, Frank walked back to Clementine’s house to deliver the bad news.

Abby was there with Kate and had been all morning.

It was difficult telling Kate her mother had been found lifeless at the bottom of a ditch but he did it. He didn’t tell her everything, though. He didn’t tell her he believed foul play had been involved, no matter what the sheriff was telling her. He couldn’t do that to her in the same moment she’d found out her mother was dead; time enough for that later after he investigated it further. She cried and Abby was there for her. They both tried to be. True grief is something that can’t be shared and Frank felt dreadful for the woman. She’d returned home to be with her mother and now her mother was dead.

“I guess I have a funeral to plan,” Kate monotoned, sitting in her mother’s kitchen, staring at the cheery curtains fluttering in the open window’s breeze. She looked awful. There were circles under her eyes and her face was puffy from weeping. “Oh, I knew one was coming, just not this soon. My mother has been sick for a long time. Before her mind got too muddled she was considerate and farseeing enough to purchase one of those pre-arranged burials. All the details have been taken care of so I won’t have much to attend to. As if she’d had a premonition of her own death, she showed me where the paperwork was last week. All I have to do is hand it over to the funeral home director.”

“I’ll go with you,” Abby offered. She’d been at the table drinking coffee with her friend and waiting for news.

“And I’d be grateful if you did.”

“If you two have that in hand, I’ll go home now.” Frank was leaning against the sink where he’d been since he’d come in. “Because I can’t keep my eyes open.”

“Go home,” Abby had told him. “We can handle this from here.” Her eyes on him were sad. “Maybe we’ll need you later for something or other and we will need you rested.”

He nodded. “Just call me.”

Before he left he faced Kate. She was crying but trying hard to keep it all together. There were things to do now and she had to do them…for her mother. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Kate. I didn’t know your mother well, but she was respected and liked in town by many people. Spookie is a good place to live and you can count on us and the town standing behind you through all of this. You’re not alone.”

Kate wiped her eyes again and gave him a brave smile. “Thank you, Frank. That means so much to me. You and Abigail being here for me means a lot, too. Thank you both.”

He kissed Abigail goodbye and murmured in her ear. “How about after I get some sleep you meet me for supper at Stella’s about six or six-thirty? My treat. Ham and beans today and I try not to miss that. Do you think the kids can be trusted to be left on their own for an hour or two?”

“I believe Laura can handle Nick for that long. She’s old enough. And I have left-over stew in the fridge they can have for supper. Okay, I’ll meet you around six at Stella’s. If Kate and I are done, that is.”

He glanced at Kate and directed his next words to her as well. “And of course, Kate, you’re also invited for supper at Stella’s. My treat. If you haven’t eaten there yet, you’ll be glad you did.”

“I don’t know.” Kate’s eyes misted up again. “I have so much to do–”

“No matter how much you have to do, you have to eat. Come on, let me do something nice for you. Now that you’re going to be one of our neighbors and a town business owner to boot let me welcome you officially to our town. This is the time you need friends. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“All right. Supper it is. That way I can stop by my bakery later to check up on some things. No matter what is going on in my private life, how devastated I am by my mother’s unexpected death, I still have to make a living and pay bills. The bakery needs to open on schedule or I’ll lose everything. All my life’s savings.”

Grief clouded her eyes, she did a slow inhale of breath as if pulling herself together and forged on, “I need to go to the funeral home first. As to her wishes, she wanted to be cremated. She wanted a simple funeral. A one day viewing and an informal get-together at the house here afterwards for her friends who are still living. I’ll be honoring her requests, though I’m not sure how many people will show up at the funeral home or here. Mom has outlived her family and most of her friends, except Myrtle and a handful of others; most of them are now housebound. I’m all that remains of her immediate family.”

“I’ll see you both at Stella’s.” Then Frank left and went home to sleep. His head hadn’t hit the pillow before he was out. It’d been a hard few days and he had the suspicion there’d be more ahead. Because instead of Clementine’s death being the end he had the uneasy feeling it was just the beginning.

*****

When he woke it was after five o’clock. He showered, shaved, and drove into town. But Abigail and Kate weren’t at Stella’s. They were probably still at the funeral home. Things must be taking longer than they’d thought. He almost called Abby but decided against it. If she wasn’t there meeting him for supper she had a good reason. He’d find out later what it was. In the meantime he could get some coffee and catch up on any other gossip there was going around because Stella’s was the place to do it.

He ordered the special of the day. Stella’s grandson, the cook in the back, made the best ham and beans he’d ever had and much better than his own. One day that boy would have to give him the recipe, but the kid guarded it like a pit bull guards a bone.

Frank saw the boy, baseball cap slammed down on his unruly blond hair and his body almost too big to fit the space he was in, peek out from behind the partition behind the counter and he waved at him. The kid waved back. He’d graduated from high school the year before and had officially become the full time cook for his grandmother. Frank hoped he’d never leave. Stella’s distinctive cuisine wouldn’t be the same without him.

The diner was filled with his friends and neighbors so he didn’t feel lonely. Some of them stopped by his table as he was eating and they shot the breeze. He spread the sad news that Clementine was dead, but didn’t go into the details. No one needed to know that the woman’s death was suspicious. It was enough that she was dead. He knew the word would soon spread like wildfire. It always did in Spookie.

Sitting there chatting with his friends he once more felt grateful he’d moved back to his hometown when he’d retired from the Chicago Police department. He was comfortable in Spookie, respected and accepted. He lived in a beautiful cabin in the woods, had a good life, and a woman he loved. Five years ago, alone and still grieving over his dead wife, he never would have imagined it. He was a lucky man and he knew it.

If only people would stop ending up missing or dead around him. Though he was no longer a homicide detective, it seemed that particular curse had followed him into retirement.

When Stella cleared away his plates and poured his final cup of coffee he spied Martha sweeping into the restaurant. She was dressed in a blue power suit and was wearing heels. A flashy and expensive looking leather handbag hung on her arm. Her brunette hair was upswept into a bun with one of those large sparkly barrettes holding it in place. Her face had been made-up to impress with eyeliner and a shade of flame-colored lipstick she usually favored. She was dressed for success and must have been showing someone a house or would be. To this day the woman amazed him; she was a dynamo and had more energy than any other person he’d ever known, but she was also an old and true friend to both him and Abby. He gestured at her and she made a beeline for him like a dart to a board.

“Well, Frank, on your own today, huh? Where’s Abigail?” She smiled as she lowered herself down across from him. She plunked her purse down on the table and it took over half the surface. Good thing Stella had cleared it off. As he had so many times before, he wondered what Martha had in her purse that made it so big and fat. One day he’d have to ask her.

“She’s probably still with Kate Greenway at Dashner’s Funeral Home.”

Instantly Martha’s face reflected compassion. “No! What’s happened? Who died?”

Frank told her. He divulged Alfred was most likely missing as well and confided to her some of his suspicions.

“Oh, no, that’s so sad. It’s a shame, about Clementine and all, especially with Kate recently moving back here to take care of her. I’ll have to be sure to visit the funeral home tomorrow and pay my respects. Clementine was a grand old lady, last of her kind, if you ask me. When she was younger she used to read a book a week, sometimes two, I recall, and she could debate any man into the floor on current events and social issues. She was so smart.

“She had a tragic life, though, with her family dying and then with the dementia taking away that brilliant mind of hers. Such a brave woman.” Martha cocked her head, her coffee-brown eyes overflowing with sympathy. “Poor Kate. Poor Clementine. Poor Alfred, if he’s truly missing, too.

“Though you do know he’s famous for his nomadic tendencies? They say he sometimes disappears for days, you know? He’s like one of those nature men who love to be out in the wild communing with the squirrels and the birds. He’s been like that ever since he returned from Viet Nam decades ago. The trauma of the war made him crave the peaceful tranquility of the countryside. So he may not be missing at all, merely hiding from people.”

“You don’t say?”

“Uh huh. So I wouldn’t take it too seriously he wasn’t home the last few days. He’ll show up eventually, mark my words. He used to come into town quite often and ramble about. I’ve seen him, lurking in the alleyways and peering into store windows. He especially likes to do that around holidays. Alfred’s like a child, drawn to the whimsical decorations in the shop windows. Don’t worry about him. He’ll show up.”

“But when I saw him last he said he wasn’t getting around all that well lately, leg problems, and he said he was ill. He looked ill.”

She fluttered her hand at him. “Ah, he always complains about one ailment or another, believe me, he still gets around just fine. I saw him in town only a week or two ago, aimlessly meandering down the sidewalks.”  

What she said calmed his anxieties some. Could be Alfred wasn’t missing, but wandering around somewhere, as she said.

“Since you’re here, Martha, let me ask you something.”

“What?” She was signaling Stella to come over and when the waitress did she ordered a meatloaf sandwich and potato salad. Frank waited to ask her what he wanted to ask until Stella bustled away after collecting the order.

“Abby said you mentioned something to her last week about rumors you’ve been hearing of some secretive company or corporation buying up a huge plot of land somewhere around our town. Heard any fresh stories lately in that vein?”

“Funny you should ask. Ryan was saying last night some private company has been buying up land right on the town’s limits. Land with or without homes on it. They’re paying outrageously high prices, too. He’s in heaven over the commissions he’s been earning.”

That snagged Frank’s attention. “You don’t say?”

“I do say. But Ryan thinks it’s strange because the land is basically useless because it’s scrub, hills or soil eroded gullies. There is shifting sand beneath the dirt so the soil’s unstable. It’s not good for growing, building on or much or anything. But it’s his job so he’s making the sales and chortling all the way to the bank.”

“Any of this land been purchased from elderly people?”

“I don’t know that. I only know what Ryan told me and it’s what I just said. I, myself, haven’t been part of the bonanza. It’s Ryan’s baby, although I’m jealous as all get out. I wish my commissions were as large as his have been lately with these sales. Lucky stiff.” She pursed her rosy lips and openly sulked. Martha was extremely competitive when it came to her job.

“Could you show me on a map where this plot of land is located? The one being bought up?”

“Sure. On the map in my office I can point it out easily enough. Let me eat my sandwich first. I’ve been showing houses all day and haven’t had a chance to get in a meal. My hungry stomach won’t leave me alone until I fill it.”

Frank could wait.

Stella had delivered her supper and Martha was forking potato salad into her mouth. “Best potato salad in the county,” she muttered approvingly between bites.

As Martha ate, Frank had another cup of coffee and the two friends talked about the worsening situation with the old people. A lot of it surprised her.

“You better be careful investigating this Frank. As you do, I have the gut feeling something isn’t kosher. Everything you’ve told me sounds real suspicious.”

“I’m always careful, nonetheless I promise to be extra cautious. I’m keeping my investigation discreet and not many people know about it. Me, Myrtle, and Abby, is all so far; a naval intelligence friend named Charlie. Since we found Clementine’s body this morning I don’t think we have much time before the next corpse shows up.”

Martha finished her meal. Frank ordered two meatloaf sandwiches and potato salads to go for Abigail and Kate because they’d be easier to eat than a bowl of ham and beans. Abigail had called him as he sat with Martha. She and Kate had been delayed at the funeral home and, in the end, Kate couldn’t bring herself to go out in public.

They were at her bakery, supposedly working, but Kate couldn’t stop crying and Frank assumed not much work was being done. He thought taking them supper would be a considerate thing to do.

At the real estate office Martha showed him on the town’s wall map where the area being sold off was. It was exactly where he thought it would be.

*****