Old Bones: a Hetty Fox Cozy Mystery (Hetty Fox Cozy Mysteries Book 2) (2 page)

B
y the time I left Ellen’s place, the rain had ended. I had waited in the kitchen with her until her husband reached home. Then, figuring he’d be able to help her far more than I could, I’d slipped out quietly through the back door.

I knew something about how Ellen felt. It hadn’t been all that long ago that I’d discovered my first body. Even being second in line, as I was today, the sight had unsettled me. At least this time, I’d had forewarning. That knowledge had helped me maintain at least some sense of balance.

Now, I trudged home through the wet grass. Overhead, the trees still dripped from the day’s heavy rainfall. Drops fell on the grass  and, occasionally, on my head.  I continued to carry my unfurled umbrella at my side. I didn’t mind. I was headed home, where I would retreat from the world and spend  time healing myself with hot tea, a dozen or so cookies, and my knitting.

I smiled to myself as I marched home. The clapboard house I advanced toward was unbelievable dear to me. I suspected it was one of the oldest structures in Hendricksville. I’d yet to prove it. But I planned to keep at it until I tracked down the right bit of paper. I could be frighteningly stubborn when I took the notion.

Now, I pulled open the back door and stepped into the kitchen. I was looking forward to casting aside thoughts of corpses and cops and dark attics. After slipping out of my wet shoes, Andrew greeted me. He’d been hovering in front of the sink.

“A mummy,” he said. His eyes glowed with excitement.

“You were there?”

“Of course.” He smiled broadly. “Wild horses couldn’t have kept me away.”

I didn’t know much about ghosts or their antics. But from what I’d observed so far, Andrew seemed to be able to go wherever he wanted whenever he pleased. Unfortunately there didn’t seem to be much that I could do about it. In my opinion ghosts were much more work than cats and not nearly half the fun.

“Personally, I could have done without the excitement.”

“You’ll come around once we begin the investigation.”

“What make you think we’re going to become involved in this case?”

His smile faded. “Well, why wouldn’t we? You’re good at digging out facts. I’m not half bad at sorting through mysteries myself. We have a knack for this.”

I grabbed the tea kettle from the stove. “That was different. I found that other body. I looked into that dead woman’s eyes.”

“You saw at this mummy, too. You stared right at her. I saw you.”

I moved to the sink and began filling the kettle. “Yes, but I didn’t find her.”

“Don’t mess me up with word games. There’s no difference between this time and the last, and you know it.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But we can’t run around sticking our noses into every murder case that comes up. Oberton would resent it.”

Andrew scowled. “He didn’t seem to mind it last time.”

“Well, trust me. He soon would if we started in again.” I placed the kettle on the stove and switched on the burner.

“You don’t know that. Besides, he’s short of staff.”

“That’s not our problem. I’m not getting involved. That last episode almost cost me my life.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I am not, and you know it.”

Andrew frowned at me.

I walked to the counter and checked my phone for messages. There was only one. I pushed the button. Laura Day’s sweet voice rang out. She was the current president of our little knitting group.

In a short and simple message, she asked me to call her.

I tracked down my cell phone and punched in her preprogrammed number.

She picked up quickly. “Hello, Hetty,” she said.

“Yes, Laura, I found a message from you on my machine.”

“Ah, I had hoped you’d get home soon. Can you come over asap?”

Her request surprised me. “As in right now?”

“If you would, please.”

I fought back a strong desire to hang up on her. “Is there a problem?” I asked.

“I really could use your help.”

I was speechless for a moment. Then, I glanced over at Andrew. He was still hovering across from me and glowering  in my direction. Weighing the joy of spending more time with a disgruntled Andrew, or spending time with Laura and her problem,  I took a deep breath and said, “I’ll be right there.”

***

Laura Day lived in a tidy, 1920s brick bungalow across the river from me. Her side of the river was what I called the low ground. My place was on the opposite bank and sat on the top of a towering cliff. My location gave me an enchanting view of the Illinois River and of the houses stretched out on its far bank. Now I pointed my car’s nose east, over the bridge and onto the flatlands.

After reaching her place, I exited my car and hurried up the path to her house. Laura was a charming woman, probably somewhere in her middle forties. She mostly wore a happy smile and always had a ready hand. “Please, come in,” she now said. She swung the door wide. “I have fresh coffee and Toby’s here. We need to discuss some knitting club business.”

She ushered me into the kitchen, where Toby Spires was already seated. She was a large, muscular woman, with kinky, steel-gray hair. She often seemed to be as sour in outlook as Laura was cheerful.

I wished Toby a good morning. In return she gave me a low grunt. Her muscular arms were folded across her wide chest. She looked about as welcoming as a pit bull at a doberman convention.

“Go ahead,” Laura told me. “Take a seat.”

I did as instructed. “So what’s up?”

Toby huffed and announced. “We’ve got a rogue member. She’s trying to take over the club.”

“That's not quite correct,” Laura countered. “It’s just that she wants us to change  our meeting dates.”

Toby’s face flushed. A small vein at her neck visibly throbbed. “Can you imagine that woman’s nerve? She’s been a member all of two months. Now, she wants to turn the club on its ear.”

I glanced  at Laura. “What’s her proposal?”

“She’s asked us to shift our meetings from Monday afternoons to Saturdays.”

Currently, our group met twice monthly on the first and third Mondays.

I cleared my throat. “That doesn’t sound too extreme. Most of our members are either retired or are stay-at-home moms. I would think a change is possible without causing too much distress.”

Toby raised her chin. “I can tell you it’s a big deal to me. I’m pretty sure most of the other members will feel the same way.”

I smiled at her. “Then, I doubt the proposal will be successful.”

Toby snorted. “Well, of course not. We are what we are, and I, for one, am proud of it. We’re not about to change just because she makes some kind of silly suggestion.”

Laura chuckled. “Now Toby, not everyone sees this issue quite the same way you do.”

She snorted. “I suspect there’ll be enough who do that we’ll  defeat the plan.”

I glanced at Laura. “Who’s put this proposal forward?”

“Her name is Valerie Jarrett.  You’ve met her. She came she’s been to at least three sessions. Other than stirring up this hornet’s nest, she seems like she’ll make a pretty decent member.”

“Hogwash,” Toby thundered. “She’s nothing but a troublemaker.”

Laura set my coffee before me and shook her head. “Valerie used to work full time. She says by meeting on Mondays we’re not being fair to local working women.”

“Oh.” I glanced down and studied my coffee.I couldn’t deny she had a point. “What do you want me to do?” I wasn’t an officer in the club.

Laura sat and folded her hands together on the table. “Hetty, I’d like you to meet with Valerie. Feel her out. See if you and she can work out a compromise.”

“Why would she listen to me?”

“Because I think you’ll give her a fair hearing.” She glanced at Toby. “That’s not something I think many others in our club are ready to do.” She returned her attention to me. “Truthfully,  I’m terrified of this coming up for a vote at one of our sessions. I fear it might tear the membership in two.”

She place a hand on mine. ”I’m hoping you’ll come up with a solution that can avoid that.”

I gulped.
No pressure here
. I cleared my throat. “I think you’re giving me too much credit. Besides, I’m new a member, too. No one’s going to want to do anything I suggest.”

“No, I don’t think our members are that stubborn. If you find a way to work out a compromise, I think they’ll support you.”

“Over my dead body,” Toby snapped, her patience apparently shredded. She bounded from her chair. “Now, if you two will excuse me, I have real work to do.”

And experiencing some serious angst, I watched her storm out the back door.

Laura drew in a deep breath. “It’ll be okay. You’ll deliver us from this mess. I just know it. Please say that you’ll lend us a hand..”

I picked up my coffee mug and blew across its rim. I knew if I had any sense I’d run away from taking this on. So I was startled when I heard myself say, “Sure. I’ll give it a try.”

Laura released a small sigh. “Thank you. I knew deep down that you would.” She took up her coffee mug and shifted gears. “I hear you had some excitement in your neighborhood today.”

I paused with my cup halfway to my lips. “How in the world did you hear about that?”

“I have a friend who lives over your way. She saw all the cop cars when she was driving home from the grocery store.”

I frowned.
Few things could be successfully hidden in small towns.
“Yes, there was a bit of trouble. Actually, it was quite dreadful, really.”

“What happened?”

So I explained about Ellen and the mummy in her attic.

Laura’s eyes expanded. “A mummy? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“You’re not alone on that score. Did you by any chance know the McNays?”

Laura rolled her eyes. “Now, there’s an interesting pair.”

I swallowed a smile. “How so?”

“Their names are Fred and Hazel McNay. They’d lived here all their lives when the suddenly decided to move away. Fred was a UPS driver. Hazel worked as a cashier over  at the West Side Grocery Store. I was stunned to learn the McNays were selling out and leaving. But Fred had a heart attack two years ago, and Hazel insisted she wanted to live nearer their daughter.”

That sounded like a familiar tale. “Where did they go?”

“Their daughter lives in Columbus, Ohio.”

“Did they ever have a woman, of say around thirty-five, living with them?” Of course, I wasn’t certain of the corpse’s age, but from what I could saw in the attic, it seemed a good guess.

Laura looked at me questioningly. “I can’t remember anyone ever living with them. Why?”

“What about their house? Who owned it before they did?”

“Now that is interesting,” Laura said, apparently warming again to her story. “They downsized to that place only about five years ago. Before then, they’d owned a large house on Elton Street. It was Gerald and Bertie Lawry who originally owned  house.”

“What were they like?”

“Nothing special. He was a dentist. She had a job in the courthouse.

Five years wasn’t a long time. It was possible the McNays hadn’t known about the corpse in the attic.
  “Do you think the Lawrys are the murderous type?”

She laughed. “Seriously, I doubt it.  But if they can be run to ground, they may have some interesting information to share. Keep in mind they left Hendricksville more than five years ago. Their trail might be more than a little cold.”

“Surely someone knows where they went?”

Laura nodded, her eyes large. “Oh, I’m sure someone does. But I don’t. Plus, they were elderly when they moved. They could be dead by now.”

It was a sad fact of life that I tried not to dwell on often. The elderly had a bad habit of becoming the deceased.

I rose. It was time to head home, but that thought was put on hold when a young woman came rushing into the house. She looked to be in her very early twenties and was in obvious distress. Without even casting a glance in my direction, she looked to Laura and howled, “It’s never going to work.”

I glanced from her to Laura to see if I should be concerned.

“Nonsense,” Laura said, smiling. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.” Turning to me, she added, “Becky, I’d like you to meet Hetty Fox. She’s a fellow knitter and a handy woman to know.”

The young woman’s jaw dropped as she realized that she wasn’t the only guest in Laura’s living room. “I’m so sorry,” she said, with a pretty blush making its way across her round cheeks.

Laura turned my way. “Hetty, this is my cousin, Becky King.

The girl stuck out a hand. “Mrs. Fox, it’s very nice to meet you.”

I smiled and echoed the sentiment. Her face was broad, her features  plain, but she had very kind eyes. “Call me Hetty, please.”

She nodded. “Will do,”