The Obituary Society (16 page)

The beam traveled along the bookshelf, illuminating the framed certificates and rows of thick volumes in perfect condition.  Nothing looked used, or showed that he had a personality or life at all outside this office.  Her light stopped on one book that jutted out slightly.  Without thinking she stepped forward and pushed it in to complete the perfect order. 

Her hand stopped on the leather-bound book.  It didn't feel right.  Te book should have been heavy, but it wasn't, and it made a hollow clunk as it hit the back of the shelf.  Her breath caught, and she pulled the book out.  Just as she had thought, it was light, and something slid around inside when she shook it.

She grabbed it and was about to pry it open when the light flicked on.  Lila's heart stopped.  She thrust the book behind her back and jerked her head up, blinking in the suddenly bright room.  A policeman stood in the doorway.  She focused on his face, noting the freckles and red hair.  It was Carl Snyder. 

The panic that tingled from her stomach to her fingers and toes turned to dread, heavy and sick. 

“
Don't move.”  His threatening voice echoed around the room, and as he walked toward her she remembered the footsteps she had heard from her bed.  Before all of the unbelievable events that occurred that night, she had been almost certain Carl was in her house, angry at her for what she'd told the sheriff.  Lila's feet wouldn't have budged if she wanted them to.  Her mouth fell open, but she could think of nothing that would help her out of this.

“
Lila Moore.”  His voice was thick with amusement.  “I told you I'd be watching you.”  He snatched the book from her.  He weighed it in his hand, then peeked inside.  His brows rose slightly, then he tucked it under his arm.  “Do you know who you're dealing with?”

Lila backed up slowly.  “I know you weren't a friend of Clint's.”  She clenched her teeth together and squeezed her eyes shut, mentally cursing herself.  Every time she watched a movie and a character voiced her suspicions to the bad guy in an isolated place she wanted to throw something at the screen.  And yet here she was, and she didn't seem to be able to keep her mouth closed.

She eyed the gun resting in its holster and looked around her.  There was a bankers lamp sitting on the desk.  She guessed it was just out of arms reach.  Her eyes darted to the window.  Surely the women had already gone for help.

“
The troubles between Clint and myself are dead and buried, forgive the figure of speech.  Not that it's anybody's business.”  Carl reached for his handcuffs.  “Care to explain why you're trespassing?  Or do you want a lawyer first?”  He smirked.  “I'm afraid we're short one and the other'n won't be in the mood to defend you.” 

He came close enough for her to smell his rancid breath, and feel it hot on her cheek.  Her throat tightened;  she was ready to scream.  Then he spun her around, slapped the handcuffs on her wrists and began spouting off her Miranda Rights. 

Lila took a big breath and exhaled.  Until that moment, she wasn't sure what Carl was going to do.  She never would have imagined being arrested could come as a relief.  

A shuffling noise caught her attention, and she turned her head in time to see a mauve patent-leather purse knock Carl in the face.  Then she saw an Easy Spirit shoe kick him in the calf.  The book clattered to the floor. 

“You leave her alone!”  Ada's voice was joined by the angry shouts of the four other women.  Carl waved his hands in the air as if he were swatting at mosquitoes.  As he let go, Lila was able to turn in time to see another purse make contact with his left ear.

“
Ouch!  What do you got in there?  I'll arrest every one of you.”

“
We'd like to see you try,” Matilda said, stomping on his toe.

Lila felt helpless in the handcuffs.  “Stop it.  It's okay;  he's not going to hurt me.”

“Of course he's not, dear.  We would never let that happen,” Gladys said, wriggling off a lavender pump and brandishing it like a weapon.

Lila caught Ada's eye, and jerked her head toward the book.  Ada ducked down and scrambled to get it.

“Whoa, whoa, what on earth is going on here?”  A voice bellowed.  They all turned to see Sheriff Larson frowning in the doorway, eyes bulging and hands on his hips.  Lila had never seen so much expression on his face. 

Betsy spoke up.  “We're protecting this young girl from one of your vile officers.”

“Seeing as I'm here now you can all stand down,” he said.  “Carl, take those handcuffs off Miss Moore.  I'll drive her down to the station and we're going to get to the bottom of this.  Sheriff Larson walked over to Ada and wrangled the book from her arms.  “And all of you,” he pointed at the ladies, who tucked in their blouses and patted their permed hair, “can follow us there.”

Chapter 22

Jail Biddies

Lila waited in Sheriff Larson's office, picking at her fingernails and squirming her toes around in the stiff tennis shoes Ada had picked up for her at Auburn Farm Implement.  She leaned back and watched through the door as the sheriff filled two mugs from the dregs of a coffee pot that had already been turned off.  The ladies sat huddled together on folding chairs in the waiting room.  They clutched at their purses, their eyes silently following him as he loped to his office.

Sheriff Larson closed the door and sat down, placing both mugs on the desk in front of him.  He picked one up, took a sip, blinked his eyes and twisted his mouth in disgust, then took a large gulp.  “Pleasure to have you back, Lila.”

She bit her lip.

“What were you doing in Mr. Whiting's office?”

She didn't know what to say.  What kind of person would she be if she threw five little old ladies under the bus?  “I was looking for information about Asher.  We went out recently, and I felt like he was hiding something from me.”

The sheriff held his cup mid-way to his mouth.  “Come on.  You can do better than that.  Ms. Ada and her gang don't get involved unless it's serious business.  Why were you there?”

“
Okay.”  She squirmed in her chair.  “The last time I spoke to Clint, he told me he had some important information about my grandpa's will.  He never got the chance to give it to me.  And we also thought—I thought—that Clint's death was suspicious.  You may not believe this, I know I barely knew him, but I felt a connection with him.  I guess I wanted some closure.”

He smacked his lips and clinked down the mug, then sighed.  “I know you're still dealing with the loss of your grandfather, and then finding Clint like that must have been a shock.  But we cared about Clint too.  You have to let us do our job.”

“But what about—,” she lowered her voice, “Carl?”

“
I tried to tell you, young lady, Carl had nothing to do with this.  You may as well know that Clint wasn't even responsible for the trouble with his divorce.  Mr. Whiting took over that case, and Carl knew that before . . . before Mr. Edwards passed.”

“
Oh.”  Lila looked down at her clasped hands.  In the silence that followed, she heard a commotion on the other side of the door, and wondered what was going on now.  Whatever it was, she'd rather be out there with those crazy women than sitting here with the Sheriff, feeling completely humiliated.  She wished she could melt into her chair.

“
That's right.  There was no motive for him to hurt Clint.  In fact, we haven't found sufficient motive for anyone to kill the man.  The most likely scenario is that he had a heart attack.  There's nothing unusual about that.  I'm only telling you this because I know you're having a rough time right now and I want to help.  I told you I was a friend of Isaac's, and I'll look after you if I can.  But you're looking at illegal trespassing, and maybe even possession of an illegal substance.” 

“
What?”  Lila sat up tall, her brows knotted in confusion.

“
Now, I think it's clear that substance was already in Mr. Whiting's office, but I'm trying to convey to you the seriousness of your situation.”  He took a gulp from the second mug, then jerked his head toward the waiting room.  She detected a twitch at the corner of his mouth.  “You might want to reconsider the company you're keeping.” 

Lila turned her head toward the door.  She raised up in her seat, trying to peek through the small window. 

“What is it?”  Sheriff Larson asked?

“
Isn't it awfully quiet?”

Sheriff Larson got out of his seat immediately, and went for the door.

Lila stood and followed him out of the office and down a wide hallway.  Carl stood at the end, his back against the wall, smirking.  “They were starting to cause trouble.  Caught one of them rooting through things.”

The ladies were lined up across the cell under florescent lights, purses dangling from their delicate hands.  Ada's chin was tilted, her tiny mouth pinched.  Gladys was beside her, staring right through the sheriff with her magnified orbs.  Matilda dabbed her eyes with a hanky, a repentant expression on her face.  Leona scowled, one hand wrapped around a bar as if she were going to bust out.  Betsy had one hand on her hip, her expression hard, punishing a piece of chewing gum. 

Sheriff Larson pushed Carl aside, lowering his eyebrows.  “Of all the—go on home, Carl.  I'll take it from here.”

Carl scowled and skulked away.  The sheriff faced the group of women.  He cleared his throat.  “I apologize for Carl, but I think it's time we made some things clear.  There have been times in the past when I've looked the other way. ” 

The ladies gasped, then averted their eyes and twisted their fingers or purse straps. 

“
That's right.  I've known all along.  But next time you will be held accountable for your actions, whether or not you think they are justified.  That's how the law works.  I suggest you stop this nonsense immediately and keep yourselves and this young lady out of trouble.  It's what Isaac would want.”

Keys jangled together as he pulled them out to unlock the door.

“Wait.”  Lila held her hand out.  “Could I have a minute alone with them first?”

The sheriff cocked his head, scrunching down one fuzzy eyebrow and lifting the corner of his mouth.  “You want me to leave them in there?”

Lila nodded.

He sighed and waved his hand.  “It's your funeral.”  He glanced quickly at the row of women.  “But be quick.  I've got a plate of cold pork chops waiting at home.”  The door clanked behind him.

The ladies gawked at one another.

“
What's this about, Lila?”  Ada asked, her tone sharp.

“
I told you she was a tea cake short of a garden party,” Betsy said.

“
Lila's a good girl.  Just listen to what she has to say.”  Matilda put her hanky in her purse.  “Is there something you wanted to say, Lila?”  Her voice faltered, ending in a whisper.

“
Or that the voices want you to say?” Betsy mumbled.

“
Oh hush, Betsy,” Leona said, rolling her eyes.

Lila looked Ada in the eye.  “I have a right to know what's going on.”

Ada straightened, trying to reach Lila's eye level, her brows perched high on her forehead.  “Perhaps it's none of your business.  Now let us out of here.”

“
Out of
jail
, Ada?  Where I'm lucky not to be after you sucked me into a scheme that you don't trust me enough to give me all the details on?  I've nearly drowned, been picked apart by birds, and got a concussion, or I've gone crazy and constructed some of these events myself.  Either way, that house I was so fortunate to inherit had something to do with it.  Not to mention the only man who was willing to talk to me is dead.  I saw a note in Clint's file.  He had information about the will, something about unknown assets.  Maybe that would have given me a clue about what's going on. ”

“
And you think all of that is my fault?” Ada asked.  “That's why we're here, to find out about Clint.”

“
You know more than you're saying.  You're just like Grandpa; you clam up and back away if you think someone is digging for information.  I want to know why Grandpa suddenly abandoned his home, his family, and his friends for Middle-Of-Nowhere-Wyoming.  I want to know what happened between you two and Uncle David.  And I want to know why that house and that awful pond are out to get me.”  Ada's eyes were saucers, her lips sucked in tight.  Lila continued, her tone gentler.  “But I also want to know where I come from, the good things along with the bad.”

Ada's face softened.  She bowed her head, silent for a moment.  “It's not that I don't trust you, dear.  There are things that should never resurface.  Sometimes the past makes you afraid and ashamed, and dredging it all up would betray the confidence of others.  It puts them in danger.”

“Like maybe all your friends get thrown in jail?  Or a m-murder of ravens tries to kill your niece?  Do ravens come in murders?  Or just crows?”

“
An unkindness of ravens,” Gladys whispered.

Ada raised grief-stricken eyes.  “Lila, what you ask is not mine to give.  I'd heard things about the pond, but I didn't know if it was true.  It—it  can't be.”  Her voice was fearful.  She glanced at the others as if for reassurance.

“It's nonsense,” Betsy said. 

Matilda held her hand up to her mouth, stifling a whimper.

“Just because we don't understand it, that doesn't make it nonsense.”  Gladys's voice was grave.  She held Ada's arm gently.

Ada was somewhere else for a moment, then her eyes flashed at Lila.  “And I didn't know anything about the house until the other night, when you were hurt.  You're right.  You shouldn't be in this situation.  I love having you here, but it's not safe.  Maybe you should just sell the house and go ahead with the plans you made before coming here.  Young people like you don't stay in this town.”

Lila's eyes pricked.  She took a big breath and held back the tears.  What plans?  Before coming here, she was a girl in a long tradition of strong women who didn't know what she wanted.  If she could finish that house she'd have her answer. 

But it wasn't just about finding her calling in life.  Somewhere along the line, Lila had fallen hard for that house.  The authentic, charming details, the romantic wallpaper, and the idyllic front porch were part of it.  But the history clinched it.  The house was the realization of the American dream for her grandparents and her great-grandparents.  The structure was the physical manifestation of Phillip's love for Elaine.  The faded pink exterior proudly displayed Isaac's devotion for Phoebe.  And it could have been a home for her. 

Regardless of how she felt, there wasn't enough money.  The house might  kill her before she was done anyway.  And it sounded like Ada wanted her to go too.  She'd lost her grandfather and now she was losing Ada and everyone else here, just when it was starting to feel like home. 

The thought of facing Asher after breaking into his office made her want to run away right now.  She'd seen how he was suffering, and this is how she showed she cared.  He needed someone, but it wasn't her.  He would have realized that soon. 

A week ago she would have thought Max wanted her here.  She remembered the surprising hues of gold and green in his eyes when she was close enough to notice.  He didn't always say the right thing, and he probably wouldn't know how to lay on the charm if he wanted to, but he'd always seemed honest and genuine.   

Of course, she'd been wrong about that too.  He'd forgotten she existed the second his ex showed up, which was probably good, at least where Juniper was concerned.  Lila worried about Erica's stability, and hoped beyond reason that Erica could be the mother the little girl needed.  At least she was there.  The best thing Lila could do for Juniper was leave her family alone.

Ada's voice broke the silence.  “I can tell you one thing.  It's about the note in Clint's file.  My father built that house during the Great Depression.” 

Leona interrupted.  “Nobody else was building houses like that back then, if they built at all.”

“'Course everyone knew he'd do anything for Elaine,” Betsy said.  “People still talk about how gorgeous she was.  Her eyes were just like yours, Lila.”  All the women nodded their heads.

Ada cleared her throat.  “He built my house too, right next door, after I got married.  Everyone wondered where he got the money.  It's true that we never did without, even during years when crops were bad and others were struggling.  And he never took credit, but he did things for people.”

Matilda beamed at Ada.  “Remember when Rupert Wasden was doing so poorly, and his old tractor finally broke down?  He went out one morning and there sat a shiny new John Deere.  He swore to the day he died it was your daddy's doing, but Phillip never admitted to it.”  She turned to Lila.  “You probably don't know what one of those costs.”

Ada continued.  “But after Mother died, the dementia set in.  It was difficult to manage things for Daddy, especially since he was always so private about finances.  There was so much he didn't remember.”   Ada paced in the cell, wringing her hands.

“I assumed he'd made good investments, and it ran out.  David thought there was a fortune though, and he was sure Isaac was keeping it a secret.  They argued about it a couple of times.  Of course, it wasn't the only thing they fought about.”  The women looked at her with sympathetic eyes, and Ada lifted her chin a fraction.  “Anyway, I'm sure Clint and Issac discussed it.  Dad had a special place where he kept important documents and such.  He told Isaac once that's where his will would be.  But it wasn't there.  Clint had to help us sort everything out after Dad passed.  One time when David was away on business, Isaac and I went through the whole house from top to bottom, just to make sure.”  She stood still.  “We didn't find anything.  But I'm guessing Clint never let go of the notion.”

“
Neither did David,” Leona said.  Matilda gave her a sharp nudge and Leona sighed.

Lila passed her eyes along the solemn faces.  “It doesn't explain much, but thank you for telling me.”  She walked out of the office and called for the sheriff to let them out.  They left the building, heads hung and lips silent.  As they walked down the front steps, Gladys caught up with her.