He groaned. If it turned out someone really needed to interview Queen Doreen, the responsible deputy would manage to shove the duty off on him. No one could tolerate the woman, and she had zero respect for anyone she considered second banana.
The sheriffs of larger counties didn’t have the problem of deputies pushing work onto the boss. Tony knew for sure because he’d asked some of them. Their jobs were largely administrative. With an accepting shrug, he reached for more antacids. He might as well admit the truth to himself: being a paper pusher held no appeal for him, either.
Being lazy worked for him.
Outside of town, Theo urged her minivan up the hill to the back of Nina’s house. Unlike Theo’s ancient home in town, Nina’s beautiful house was spacious and constructed to take advantage of the spectacular view. It sat on a ten-acre lot. Built on part of the old family farm her father converted to high-priced lots when he realized selling real estate paid better than farming in poor soil; the modern brown brick house had an unobstructed view of the Smoky Mountains. Today the distinctive haze did make them appear mysteriously smoke-blue.
Nina’s copper-red hair glowed like fire. She stood near her driveway, examining something in the flowerbed. The way her fists rested on her hips and the line of her spine said someone was in trouble. Deep trouble. Theo assumed it must be one of Nina’s children.
Across the road was McMahon Park, the center of the loosely constructed subdivision. More nature preserve than park, it was beautiful and wild. Only a small section of it had been tamed into a playground area. Theo had been looking for wildflowers when she wandered in there a few months ago. Instead of flowers, she had discovered the bones of a hand. Every time she visited Nina, she wondered about them. Tony hadn’t mentioned anything about them in weeks.
“The damned deer ate all the buds.” Nina jumped into the minivan. “What’s this all about?”
“Jane wouldn’t say much. It sounds like someone may give the new museum a quilt labeled ‘the murder quilt.’ ”
“Well, no wonder she called you.” Nina laughed. “Either one of those words would drag you out of your studio. Using both magic words in one phrase—wow, I’m surprised you slowed down to pick me up.”
With a laugh, Theo stuck her tongue out. “One of your old neighbors came into the shop this morning.”
“Who?”
“Vicky Parker.”
“Icky?” Nina’s eyes twinkled. “I see her uncle from time to time but I haven’t seen her in ages. She only lived up there off and on. Never for longer than a couple of months at a time.” Nina pointed to a small white house on the next hill over. “Since the county built the new road, Nelson doesn’t drive past here anymore.”
Theo frowned. “If she calls me for lunch, you have to come, too.”
Much later, Wade came back into Tony’s office waving the envelope. “No one, not even you, Sheriff, left a clear print on the paper.”
The information didn’t surprise Tony. The day didn’t feel like one during which anything was going to come easily.
“I could send it off to the FBI. In the class you sent me to, they trained me to do fingerprint analysis on reasonably normal surfaces.” He leaned forward over Tony’s desk and tapped the bag holding the card. “They might be able to raise a print where I failed, although it won’t be fast.”
Tony doubted anything would come of sending the envelope to the FBI. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try. Let’s wait until we decide if there is something to this or it’s just some prankster.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Speaking of pranks, someone has stolen a large yard ornament from in front of the Flowers’ house. I’m going over now, and I want you to follow me for backup.”
“Backup?” Wade’s dark blue eyes sparkled. “Are you expecting trouble? Should I call the TBI? FBI? Maybe Blossom and the rest of the Flowers are terrorists using the lawn ornament as an excuse to lure you out of your office.”
“Very funny.”
Still stewing over the newspaper clipping and the note, Tony drove past the Flowers home. Set back from the road, the rambling structure was a lot like the family that lived inside. There were lots of Flowers, and each was a petal or two off in Tony’s opinion.
The center of the large yard was a well-manicured grass lawn. Around the perimeter of the grass grew a small forest of crape myrtles and rhododendron. Blossom kept her collection of yard ornaments in plain view. Tony was not a connoisseur of plaster figurines, even so, he suspected these had to be factory seconds.
A large, red-coated gnome squatted next to the driveway holding a hand-painted sign. Uneven letters spelled “Flowers.” There was something about the gnome’s pose that conveyed an impression of discomfort, like the little guy was searching for the outhouse and may have waited too long to begin his search. Overall, Tony thought the Flowers family presented a more tasteful display than some in town. Few homes in Silersville didn’t have at least one gnome, fairy, frog or dragonfly parked in the vegetation.
Thinking how he preferred the goofy animal ornaments to the ones painted to look like the back end of a woman bending over, her skirt sliding up, he parked across the road and walked toward the Flowers’ yard. His arrival stirred up a pair of spotted hounds. Jumping to their feet, they stood behind a screen door baying like they’d treed a raccoon. Tony tried to ignore them as he wandered around with a camera and snapped a few pictures. It was easy to see where the donkey and cart had been. Mud and grass had been churned up as the thief had wrestled with the unwieldy piece.
Wade pulled up behind Tony’s official green-and-white Blazer. Wade was Tony’s unofficial chief deputy and fulltime assistant. “What’s up?”
“Someone took Blossom’s donkey and cart.” Tony stepped back and took a photograph of the street near the site. “She called me claiming Queen Doreen had done it.”
“You could have sent Sheila or me out to take the pictures.”
“Yeah, I know.” Tony straightened. “Then it would automatically become an official investigation and I’d have to do more damned paperwork.”
Wade climbed out of his car. His curiosity, like Tony’s, had been piqued. “How’d they get it out of there without breaking it to bits? Or did they?”
“And why?” Tony pointed to the gnome with the dyspeptic expression and several other smaller items, like a cross-eyed frog and a turtle holding a pink umbrella. “Those would be a lot easier to pick up.”
“Why does Blossom think it was the mayor’s wife?”
“I gather it’s a feud with some history.” From behind him came the aroma of cinnamon and apples. His stomach rumbled. He saw Wade straighten, and a grin lit his handsome face. Focusing on his deputy’s startling good looks, Tony realized it was time to take Wade off of street patrol. During the height of tourist season, carloads of giggling girls would run stop signs just to get a close look at him.
Tony turned. Blossom churned her way across the lawn. A plateful of something emitting heavenly scents was clutched in her fat fingers. Dressed in an outfit resembling a recycled circus tent of orange and red, she was barefoot. Even her toes looked overweight. A sweet smile lit her homely face.
“I’m so glad you came by,” Blossom panted. She lifted the paper napkin away from the plate underneath and exposed a pile of fat cookies. “They’re apple. I hear it’s your favorite fruit, isn’t it? I thought you and Wade might need a little something while you investigate.” She batted her stubby eyelashes at both men.
Wade was the first to recover his poise. “Why, thank you, Blossom, you know I can resist anything but temptation.” He picked a pair of cookies off the plate with one hand.
Tony hated to see his deputy eat alone, so he took a couple as well. Like everything Blossom cooked, these cookies tasted like a little bit of heaven, warm and moist, apples and spice and, as usual, something he couldn’t identify. He stifled his impulse to grab the whole plate and lock himself in the car until he finished them all.
“You are one terrific cook,” said Wade.
“Amen,” added Tony. He looked past her to the dogs, still baying wildly. “Didn’t the dogs bark or wake anyone up?”
Blossom’s head moved slowly from side to side.
Wade glanced around. “Is that normal? They’re going nuts here in the middle of the day and I’m not stealing anything.”
She put on her thoughtful expression. “That must have been the night Daddy and Toot, you know, Marigold’s oldest boy, took them coon hunting.” She eased closer to Tony.
Anxious to be away from Blossom’s adoring presence, Tony sidled toward the Blazer. “I’d better get going.” Blossom followed him the whole way, continuing to offer more cookies until he closed the door in her face.
Tony decided to visit the mayor’s home. In the unlikely event Doreen had taken the ornament, maybe it now sat on the Cashdollar’s lawn. It wouldn’t hurt to look. As a stalling technique, he thought it possessed multiple virtues, not the least of which would be visiting the couple outside of their work areas.
Calvin Cashdollar made no secret of his wealth. He had a healthy income from his mortuary business. Those funds, added to the wad he’d inherited, made him rich. If he wasn’t the community’s richest citizen, he was close to it, or had been until Queen Doreen started shopping. Although Doreen owned a gift shop, she left the actual work to her employees and dedicated herself to buying. Some of the things she purchased actually ended up for sale in the shop.
In spite of criticism stemming from being a mayor who didn’t reside in the town he represented, Calvin and the Queen lived in a rambling white-brick home outside of town. Set in the center of thirty acres, it was easily the most luxurious house in the county. Tony had heard once that the house boasted eleven bathrooms. He couldn’t vouch for the information because he had never gotten past the foyer and the mayor’s home office.
The house was not visible from the road and only a discreet number on the gateposts signaled the beginning of the driveway. The decorative white-brick pillars supported a cast-iron gate. They were topped with urn-shaped decorations. Rumor was one contained Calvin’s mother and the other one his father. A winding drive led to an open park with the faux English manor house at the far end.
Tony parked the Blazer at the bottom of the steps and approached the door. Evergreen topiaries, trained and trimmed into spiral shapes, flanked the double oak panels. Steeling himself to talk to Doreen, he rang the doorbell.
From somewhere deep in the house came the sound of chimes playing “Rock of Ages.” After a minute of listening to most of the melody, it almost surprised Tony when the door opened.
Pansy Flowers Millsaps stared up at him. Pansy was an older version of her baby sister, Blossom. Whereas Blossom flaunted her size, Pansy seemed to be trying to suppress hers. Squished into a pair of black slacks two sizes smaller than she needed and an equally tight long-sleeved white cotton blouse covered with a black apron cinched around her waist, she looked too uncomfortable for words.
“What?” From her sour expression, it appeared Pansy didn’t share her sister’s affection for him.
“Good afternoon, Pansy.” Tony tried his most ingratiating smile. It had no noticeable effect. He shifted his duty belt and her eyes focused on his sidearm. “Is Mrs. Cashdollar at home?”
“No.”
Pansy would have shut the door in his face if he hadn’t quickly wedged his foot into the opening. “Do you know where I might find her?”
“Why?”
“I don’t have to account to you for anything, Pansy.” Tony frowned down at her, annoyed by her attitude. “This does concern a member of your family. I’m looking into the disappearance of one of Blossom’s lawn ornaments.”
Suddenly the door opened wide and Pansy stepped forward, concerned. “Which one?”
“The donkey and cart.”
“Oh, dear, I hope you find the statue for her. It’s one of Blossom’s favorites.” Pansy pulled a dust rag from one of her apron pockets and began polishing the brass door handle. “Her Majesty went over to your mom’s new museum with some quilts.”
“When did she leave?”
“You just missed her.” Pansy stowed the rag and without another word, shut the door in his face.
Faced with the solid oak panel again, Tony turned and left.
The museum project made Tony believe his mother and his Aunt Martha had lost their collective minds. The sisters had purchased an ageing and dilapidated motel on the outskirts of town and had plans to create a folk museum and classrooms on the site. They had enticed Tony’s brother Gus to be the contractor in charge.
Only a few months earlier, they had stalled on the museum plan and had talked about going to Chattanooga and resurrecting their childhood sister singing act. Thankfully, a benefactor had donated an ancient barn to the museum’s cause. To everyone’s relief, receiving a barn set the ladies back on the museum path and away from singing on the road. At the very least the project kept the ghost of Tony’s late father from moaning in the dark about his widow singing in bars.
The gift of the dilapidated barn quickly turned into a double-edged sword. Theo claimed it was a case of old man Ferguson seeing a way to get someone else to pay to clean a relic off his farm.
Tony agreed with his wife.
His big brother Gus, who was not usually a man prone to profanity, had begun swearing the second he saw the antique pile of termite-infested boards. He’d been improving his vocabulary on a daily basis since then and had reached expert level a week ago.
Until then, a hint of hope remained. Maybe the barn would survive traveling intact. Alas, the truth quickly became clear. The structure only remained upright because of several strategically placed supports held into the ground with a truckload of concrete. Just using the boards in random order would not work. A “See Rock City” painting adorned the roof and one side of the building. It needed to be reconstructed on site, in the proper sequence. According to Gus, they were going to number each of the boards and haul it on flatbed trailers.