Barbara Graham - Quilted 05 - Murder by Sunlight (18 page)

It seemed only prophetic that she had purchased the house once occupied by Nellie Pearl Prigmore, a woman whose mental decline had created frequent calls and a strong bond with the sheriff’s department. “I don’t recognize the name O’Hara. Is he a resident of Park County?”

“Oh, no, I’m sure he’s not. He must be from a very special place.” She flapped her handkerchief. “Not that Park County isn’t lovely, after all. Isn’t that why I’m here?”

Tony had no answer to her question. He was pretty curious about how she’d ended up in his jurisdiction. If it weren’t patently ridiculous, he’d accuse his old partner in Chicago of setting up an elaborate prank. It might not hurt to find out what Max had been doing lately.

“Are you listening to me?” Mrs. Fairfield slapped the cleared-out section of his desk with the handkerchief. “I demand you find Mr. O’Hara and bring him to me. At once.”

“Have you a recent photograph of the gentleman in question?” Oh, goodness, he thought, now he was starting to slide into her trap.

“Of course.” She reached into her voluminous handbag and pulled out a large framed photograph of a distinguished-looking gentleman.

Not a man he could remember seeing. Tony might not know everyone by name, but he was pretty good with faces. “And do you have his address or telephone number?”

“Certainly not.” Mrs. Fairfield sniffed and lifted her chin in a haughty manner. “Ladies do not possess such information.”

“Really?” Tony was losing his patience. Whoever had hired this woman to antagonize him had gotten their money’s worth. “How did you meet him?”

“We haven’t actually met.” Mrs. Fairfield dabbed a tear from the corner of her eye. “My late husband and he were friends, and I’m sure we’ll get along splendidly, once I find him.”

“Ah.” Tony sensed the light bulb over his head start to glow. “When did Mr. Fairfield pass away?”

She took a deep breath and then eased it out in a prolonged sigh. “Sixteen years ago.”

“No kidding?” Tony was sure he heard Ruth Ann giggle beyond his office door. He was delighted to provide entertainment for his secretary. Maybe she’d take a pay cut because she only worked for the fun of it. Or maybe he could teach a hog to waltz. “And did you have an address for Mr. O’Hara at that time? Perhaps he was at the funeral.”

“Oh, there was no funeral.” Mrs. Fairfield flapped her hanky. “Mr. Fairfield’s in the parlor.”

“His ashes,” Tony said. He thought she looked confused by his statement. “You had him cremated and have the ashes in the parlor, don’t you?”

“What are you accusing me of?” Mrs. Fairfield lunged to her feet. “Mr. Fairfield is as handsome as ever. I keep him under glass.” She gave Tony one last glare before heading toward the door. “I didn’t want him to need dusting.”

Tony was still considering the possibility that Mrs. Fairfield was using her deceased spouse as a decoration when Wade pulled into the driveway where one neighbor had shot another the previous day.

“It was an accident.” Mr. Austin met them outside on his driveway. He was still adamant, although after his trip to the jail, in handcuffs, his attitude was tinged with apology and embarrassment.

Tony wasn’t satisfied. “I don’t believe you.” His own embarrassment was being erased by irritation. He was embarrassed because he hadn’t taken the time to do as full an investigation of the shooting as he should have. He was irritated because he was sure the man had lied to him. “Shall we try this again?”

“I thought the gun wasn’t loaded.” Austin’s voice grew louder with each word.

“Even unloaded, why aim a gun into your neighbor’s kitchen?”

Sam Austin shook his head.

The arrival of Mrs. Emily Austin attracted the attention of everyone, especially the dogs, who ran toward the car, barking and enthusiastically wagging their tails. When she climbed from the car, she smiled at Wade and Tony and walked toward them, even as she greeted the dogs. “I’ve been visiting our neighbor, Mrs. Marsh, in the hospital. She has the most amazing story to tell.” She turned to her husband. “I had no idea you were so chivalrous.”

“Hush, Emily, not now.” Sam Austin tried to push his wife to stand behind him. “I’ll explain later.”

Mrs. Austin shoved him right back. “You might as well tell them the truth.” She smiled up at Tony. “I shot our neighbor, but Sam here was my intended target.”

“Why?”

Her cheerful expression could not hide her pain and underlying fear. Tony thought he could guess the reason for it, and he disapproved.

“Sam was cheating on me.” A wash of tears filled her eyes. “I’m not expected to live much more than two months, and Mr. Chivalrous here can’t behave until then.”

Tony had been so fascinated by her facial construction, he almost missed her meaning. The nose was perfect. Too perfect. And the space between her eyebrows was flat and too wide. “Cancer?”

“No.” She didn’t explain. “FYI, I watched him in the neighbor’s kitchen, their lips locked, hands where they should not have been, so I pulled the rifle from under the bed, aimed, and fired. Just as I pulled the trigger, he moved, and I couldn’t stop the bullet. The scum.”

“Why confess? If he’s guilty of cheating, why not let him be accused?” Tony thought the story sounded implausible. Irrational. And stupid.

“I considered it. That’s why I didn’t immediately run downstairs and explain.” She shrugged. “This way, I’ll be dead soon and he’ll have to live with the guilt—he didn’t pull the trigger but
he
is responsible for her injuries, and
she
will never be the woman she was before either. I mean, scars are exotic but there is a limit to their appeal.”

Tears streaming down his weathered face, Sam stammered a heartfelt apology. To his wife.

Tony wasn’t sure what to do. The two combatants were busy kissing and apologizing to each other. The jail was full to capacity. He said, “Promise you’ll behave and I’ll let you stay here until we can get this situation resolved. Do not leave the county.”

And, they did. Promise. Tony headed for town, hoping he’d done the right thing.

The morning of the Fourth of July started with the heavy boom of a cannon. The sound echoed through the hills and signaled the beginning of Park County’s celebration of America’s Independence Day. Unfortunately, Tony and his staff believed it would also signal the start of an outpouring of midsummer madness. Or, more accurately Tony thought, an increase in the madness already brewing.

The parade down Main Street involved not only the visiting classic cars and his children, Chris and Jamie, pushing the twins and leading the dog, but the Silersville High School band also marched. Flatbed trailers were converted into floats by every civic organization in the county and various youth groups. Uncle Sam, a regular participant, marched the parade route along with any number of festively dressed or decorated horses, dogs, and even a pig. There were all sizes and all shapes of people and animals.

Santhe Flowers displayed her colorful tattoos as she walked along Main Street, playing patriotic tunes on her flute while two of her plus-size sisters did an impromptu dance involving yards of red, white, and blue tulle.

Tony and Wade worked the parade route, mostly to keep the citizens from diving under an anxious horse while going after a piece of candy tossed from a float. While the black powder group was shooting blanks, the smoke and explosions were enough to startle the animals. The little girl riding the pig fell off, and the parade was halted for a few minutes while she was dusted off, calmed down, and put back on the pig to the sound of cheering.

One of the antique cars from the touring group overheated and had to be pushed out of the way of a goat pulling a cart filled with red, white, and blue balloons.

Bringing up the end of the parade was Claude Marmot, pushing a rolling trash can and carrying a shovel. He was dressed in blue and white striped pants and a red shirt and had a huge pink cowboy hat perched on his head. The crowd responded with a cheer and applause each time he scooped something off the street.

The winner of the children’s category was his own family. The peas slept in the pod, and the boys maintained control of Daisy, dressed in her doggie superhero cape and mask. The bagpipe group from North Carolina won the musical category, and grand prize for the best float went to a highly decorated flatbed trailer belonging to the senior citizens’ group.

After the parade, Tony was on his way back to the office when Clyde Finster waylaid him.

“Say, Sheriff?”

“Everything okay now?” Tony had personally delivered the unpleasant trophy fish. “You have your prize catch hanging on the wall?”

“Not exactly.” Finster stared at his feet. “The wife don’t like having it in the house. Says it’s her or the fish.”

“How about hanging it in your garage?” This was not Tony’s problem. He didn’t understand his compulsion to try to make things work out for the fisherman. The man just seemed so crushed.

“Truth, Sheriff?” Finster glanced back over his shoulder as if getting ready to share an important secret. “It’s not quite as pretty as I remembered it.”

Tony kept his opinion to himself. “Well, it’s up to you, I guess.” As he watched Finster weave his way through the crowd, Tony considered calling Claude Marmot, trash collector and recycling and repurposing guru, to warn him to watch out for the prize catch.

Tony eventually got to his office. It was too soon to have any official report on Candy Tibbles’s cause of death. Holiday or not, he spent an hour digging through the papers he’d ignored the day before. He planned to go home for a while and have a cookout with his family. After a short celebration, he’d be back in the trenches, on duty all night.

“I had an encounter with a social worker yesterday.” Theo carried a tray of condiments and dishes out the back door and down to the yard. With Tony’s schedule, this was the first chance she’d had to talk to him. “She wanted me to verify that Alvin works for us and wanted to know if we were satisfied with his work.”

“Odd woman? Bubble hair?” Tony lowered his voice. “Looks like she’s wearing a helmet?”

“Yes,” Theo whispered. “I’m not sure what she uses on it, but it’s got real holding power.”

“That’s Bonnie Hicks.” Thinking how much he preferred his wife’s wild curls, Tony followed Theo, his arms loaded down with buns, hamburger patties, and hotdogs. As if building a garage and the addition to the upstairs was not enough for Gus, he’d added a paved patio and constructed a picnic table big enough to seat ten. Tony thought the very least they could do was host this small celebration.

The Fourth of July and the completed addition gave their afternoon a gala feel. Tony felt like an old grump at the party, knowing he’d be leaving soon. He was the only one there who had to return to work. Theo’s shop was closed, and even the museum wasn’t allowing visitors.

Gus sat at the table with his wife, Catherine. Each of them was holding one of Tony’s baby girls, still dressed like peas, and they were both laughing at some story Chris and Jamie were telling. Soaking wet from playing in the sprinkler, the boys’ story involved lots of waving arms, scattering droplets of water, and sound effects from the brothers, united for the moment in their storytelling.

“What did you tell Bonnie?” Tony pulled his mind back to Theo’s story about the social worker.

“That he does work for us and the work is good, and then she just turned around and left. It was bizarre.” Theo snagged a couple of potato chips from a bowl.

“That
is
odd. She’s usually pretty easy to deal with.” As the county’s sheriff, Tony had fairly frequent dealings with Bonnie. Aside from her imposing hair, she was a reasonably normal, helpful woman. She truly wanted to help children and families, and he was sure she dealt with even more paperwork and more frustrations with difficult people on a daily basis than he did.

“I thought I might have offended her with a comment I made.” Theo explained her wise crack about the children.

“No, that can’t be it. I’ve said awful things, and she laughs or takes them in stride.” Tony pushed the subject from his mind and grinned at his wealthy sister-in-law. “We want to thank you, sincerely, for the amazing addition to our home, Catherine. Would you like to choose one of our children in payment?”

Catherine’s smile was luminous. She shook her head.

Gus gave his wife a kiss on the cheek and laughed. “Don’t need one of yours. We’re getting one that actually needs a family. Your kids don’t qualify.”

“Really? You’re finally getting a baby! More. Tell us more.” Theo hurried to put her tray on the table and give the happy couple hugs. “What fun!”

“We’ve been on several lists to adopt for quite a while now.” Catherine continued patting the baby niece she held. “Now there’s a baby for us.”

“That’s wonderful! No, it’s better than that.” Tony felt like his grin might split his face apart. He knew his brother and sister-in-law would make great parents. “When?”

“Any time.” Gus lifted the cell phone in his shirt pocket halfway out.

If Tony had needed proof, seeing Gus with a cell phone at a picnic was it. His brother usually called them instruments of the devil and only used his at work.

“Boy or girl?” Theo whispered to Catherine. “Or surprise?”

Catherine laughed. “Are you already planning the quilt?”

“Maybe.” Theo lifted a shoulder and lowered it in a slight shrug. “Someone says
baby
and I think
quilt.
It’s like hamburger and bun.”

“Well, you’ll just have to wait along with the rest of us.” Catherine glanced over at her husband and gave him a loving smile. “Gus has painted the nursery the same yellow as your girls’ room. We’re not doing anything more until we are actually holding the baby.”

“You’ll want the cradle,” Tony said. “I’ll bring it to your house when you give me the word.” His father had made that cradle, and he and all his siblings had all used it themselves and for every baby each had of their own. Gus was the oldest of the siblings, and would be the last to need the cradle, probably until the next generation. Which reminded him . . . “Have you told Mom and Martha?” The idea of scooping his mother and aunt with the joyous news had some appeal, but not seriously.