Murder, Handcrafted (Amish Quilt Shop Mystery) (13 page)

T
hree cars with out-of-state plates were parked along the road. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. I parked at the end of my parents’ driveway.

Willow and my father, who had a firm hold on the arms of his walker, spoke to three unknown men, one of whom was the large man with the Bigfoot T-shirt I had seen in Rolling Brook earlier that evening. The group stood under a light post in front of my parents’ home.

Across the street, Deputy Anderson sat in his cruiser watching them with a worried expression on his face. I wasn’t sure if he was more worried for himself or for what the Bigfoot enthusiasts would do to the crime scene.

With Oliver and Dodger in the backseat of my car, I removed my cell phone from my hobo bag and speed dialed Mitchell.

“Miss me already?” Mitchell asked with a teasing sound in his voice.

“Always,” I said. “But that’s not why I called. I just arrived at my parents’ house.”

“What’s going on?” His voice was sharp and in an instant morphed from boyfriend mode to sheriff mode.

I glanced at Deputy Anderson in the cruiser. He still made no move to exit the car, and I didn’t know how long he had been sitting there. “Has Anderson reported back about what’s going on here?”

“No. Should he have?” He groaned as if he had been anticipating a call like this one.

“You might want to call him.”

“Angie, what do you mean?” Mitchell asked.

On the other end of the line, I heard shuffling as if Mitchell was moving around the house. He was probably trying to find his badge and gun. Poor guy never really got a break from the job.

“Just give Anderson a call,” I said. “He can explain. I need to check on my parents.”

“Angie,” Mitchell protested.

“Call Anderson,” I said, and ended the call.

I opened my car door and allowed Oliver to jump out while I toted Dodger in his cat carrier.

I glanced over to Deputy Anderson’s cruiser and saw him holding a phone away from his ear. I couldn’t hear his voice, but I knew Mitchell must be on the other end of the line and he wasn’t happy.

Willow waved at me, beaming from ear to ear. At least someone was pleased with this situation. That someone was decidedly not my mother.

Before I could reach the small group under the
streetlamp, Mom came flying out of the house. “Angie, what on Earth is going on here?” She wagged her finger at me. “First a man is killed in my backyard, and now I have strange men loitering in my front yard. How much more will I have to take?”

Willow inched her way toward us, and her smile wavered as she overheard my mother’s complaints. Mom and Willow had been allies when they had planned a library book sale together the previous fall. It appeared all the goodwill Willow had garnered with my mother during that time had been canceled out with the unannounced arrival of the Bigfoot people.

“Now, Daphne”—Willow wrapped her heavy paisley shawl more closely around her shoulders—“I can explain. There’s been a little mix-up.”

I assumed that the “little mix-up” was posting my parents’ address on the message board for the entire world to see on the Internet. Willow was the queen of the understatement.

“A little mix-up?” my mother asked. “A man was killed in my backyard and now strange men are knocking on my door asking me if I’ve seen Bigfoot. Bigfoot! Why on Earth would anyone ask me that?” She directed that last question at me.

“How would I know?” I asked. With my mother, playing dumb was a recommended diversionary tactic.

Sadly, it didn’t work this time because Dodger spat and hissed in his carrier.

Mom pointed at the carrier. “You brought
him
?”

“I couldn’t leave him home alone.” I stepped back, holding Dodger’s carrier away from her, just in case.
She’d had a rough day. I wasn’t sure what she might be capable of as she was teetering on the edge.

Dad shuffled forward on his walker, and the three men inched behind him.

Willow smiled. “Angie, this is Ray, Anthony, and Ken. They’re members of the same Bigfoot enthusiasts’ group as I am. They wanted to come and check out the scene. I came along with them because I thought it would make your parents more comfortable . . .” She trailed off because clearly that had not been the case.

“So they aren’t here because of the posting online?” I asked.

“What posting online?” Mom asked. She didn’t miss anything.

Willow chuckled. “It’s nothing.” She raised her eyebrows at me in attempt to be subtle. Willow was a lot of things. Subtle was not one of them. “I’m glad you’re here, Angie,” Willow said with her eyebrows still elevated. She turned to her friends. “Angie is one of the eyewitnesses.”

I frowned. How did Willow know that? I purposely hadn’t told her about what I saw behind the giant oak tree this morning. Was it only this morning? It seemed as though I’d lived a week in that time.

Dodger hissed inside his carrier again. If I didn’t get him settled in the house soon, no one would get any sleep tonight.

Movement in the deputy’s cruiser caught my eye. He slunk low in his seat. Ahh, there was my answer. Deputy Anderson told Willow about my Bigfoot encounter. I should have known.

The three men examined me as if I were a mythical creature living in the woods. It wasn’t a great feeling. I scowled in return.

The shortest of the three men stepped forward and extended his hand. “Raymond Sacks, president of the Central Ohio Bigfooter Society. I’m so very pleased to meet you.”

I shook his hand. He was the shortest by far, maybe just over five feet tall. His wire-rimmed glasses slipped down his nose and he pushed them back into place with his index finger in a habitual move. He released my hand. “Can you tell us what you saw? No detail is too minor. We want to know everything.”

“Yes,” Anthony, a tall wiry man, agreed. “We want to know everything. You have been witness to something that we have all dreamed of, but not lucky enough to have experienced ourselves.”

“Speak for yourself,” Raymond said. “I have seen the Sasquatch on at least two occasions.”

Anthony snorted. “Both of those were proven to be impostors. You should not claim them as true sightings; you’re only embarrassing yourself.”

Raymond’s face flushed to a deep red. “I know what I saw.” He forced a smile. “Jealousy does not become you, my friend.”

Anthony’s face turned an odd shade of purple and he balled his fists at his sides.

“Gentlemen,” I said, not really in the mood to break off a fight between two grown men over the existence of Bigfoot. It had been a long day and, like my mother, there was only so much I could take. “I really don’t
think you should be here. The police declared my parents’ backyard as a crime scene.”

“How tall was the creature?” Ken asked, ignoring my suggestion. He was over six feet and wore bright white sneakers on his feet that appeared to be so new they came straight from the box. The shoes wouldn’t last three seconds in the muddy woods.

“I don’t know,” I said. “He was far away.”

“Where was he?” the short man asked.

Before I could answer, the sheriff’s SUV came charging up the hill and rolled to a stop behind my car. Mitchell jumped out of the SUV and marched straight for us.

Willow made a little
eep
noise. I couldn’t say I blamed her. Mitchell looked as if he was ready and willing to toss someone into the county jail and throw away the key.

On the street, Deputy Anderson also slipped from his car and ran over to the sheriff. He tried to say something to Mitchell, but Mitchell waved him away. The deputy slunk back.

“James!” my mother cried. “Thank goodness you’re here. Can you please ask these men to leave?”

“That’s what I came to do.” His mouth was in a firm line. “Since my deputy seems to be incapable of doing it himself.”

I winced on Anderson’s behalf.

“You can’t make us leave,” Raymond said. “We have a right to be here.”

“No,” Mitchell said. “You don’t. This is private property that belongs to the Braddock family, who have asked you to leave. The farm across the way is also
private property owned by an Amish family. I know for a fact that they would not want you walking through their land in the middle of the night.”

“We came a long way to see Bigfoot,” Ken, who was the largest of the men and the one I had seen in Rolling Brook earlier that evening, said. “We’re researchers.”

“Researchers?” my father asked. “Bigfoot researchers? Are there such things?” My father looked intrigued by this new information.

If we weren’t careful, my father could have another ill-advised hobby. This one would probably go as well as the kitchen remodel.

“Please leave quietly, or I will have to write you a citation for insubordination.” Mitchell’s tone meant business. I certainly wouldn’t hang around if he spoke like that to me.

“This is the most inhospitable place that I have ever been,” Anthony said.

“This is not open for debate. The Braddocks have asked you to leave and so have I.” Mitchell’s voice held a hard edge.

Willow smiled. “Why don’t we all head to my tea shop for a little refreshment? We can regroup and find other places for you to search for Bigfoot. He’s out there,” she said, like a true believer. “But with all the commotion around the Braddocks’ home, why would he stay around here where he could be seen by so many people?”

“You have a point,” Ray said slowly.

After more muttering to themselves, the three men and Willow went to their respective cars. I took the opportunity to deposit Dodger inside my mother’s
house while she was giving Mitchell a piece of her mind. I knew that might take a while.

When I got back outside, Willow and her pals were gone, and Mom and Dad were making their way toward the house. They moved much slower than normal with Dad using the walker. I frowned. My father was supposed to begin physical therapy the next day. I hoped that it would help. He put on a brave face, but I knew he must be in a lot of pain. Oliver followed behind them, keeping a worried eye on my father. He loved his grandpa almost as much as I did.

I started to walk over to Mitchell and his young deputy but stopped in the middle of the yard when it was clear the two officers were in a heated conversation. Not that they kept their voices down. I could hear everything that was said from where I stood.

“Anderson, go home. I have another deputy on his way here, and he’ll guard the crime scene tonight.” Mitchell’s voice was heavy with disappointment.

“But, sir, I had everything under control,” Deputy Anderson protested. “Willow and those men never left the front of the house. They never went around back toward the crime scene. I wouldn’t have allowed them to do that.”

“Go home. That’s a direct order.” He folded his arms. “We’ll talk about this in the morning in my office.”

“Yes, sir.” Anderson’s voice quavered.

A small part of me felt bad for the deputy. Sure, he wasn’t the best at his job, but the guy meant well. He’d skated along in Mitchell’s department for years, but maybe his incompetence was finally catching up with
him. I would hate it if Anderson were to be fired; I liked the guy. Not to mention, if Mitchell hired a new and more reliable deputy, I might not be able to get away with as much in the county, as far as my snooping went.

Like a dog with his tail between his legs, Deputy Anderson bowed his head as he climbed into his cruiser.

Oliver whimpered at my feet. “I feel bad for him too, Ollie.”

Oliver and I were always emotionally in sync.

Mitchell strolled over to me stone-faced. “Willow told me that you knew about this Bigfoot club or whatever it was coming to Rolling Brook.”

“I don’t think it was actually a club.”

He stared at me.

“Sorry. Just thought it would be best to clarify.” I paused. “Yes, I knew about the Bigfoot people, but I hoped I wouldn’t have to tell you because they wouldn’t show up. When Willow posted my parents’ address on that message board for Bigfoot superfans, I was as upset as you are now.”

“She put it on the Internet?” He ran a hand down the side of his face.

“Yes.” I winced. “I told her to take it down. She did right away. I guess these guys saw it before she could remove the posting.”

“Do you think others will show up?” His hand was still over his face so his voice was muffled.

“That’s a better question for Willow. I don’t even know where she went online to post the news.” I studied his weary face. “According to Willow, this isn’t the first time you have had a Bigfoot encounter as the sheriff.”

He groaned. “If you are talking about Willow’s close encounter with Bigfoot on Sugartree Street a few years back, then yes, this isn’t my first rodeo.”

“What happened then?”

“Well, there wasn’t a murder involved. Willow made a fuss for a few days, and I had my deputies search the woods and general area. They came up with a whole lot of nothing. We finally ruled that it must have been a figment of Willow’s overactive imagination. Most likely it was an animal and she mistook it for Bigfoot.”

“And do you think these sightings are figments of imagination too? Both Jonah and I saw—”

“No, I don’t, but I don’t believe it’s Bigfoot either. Most likely someone playing a prank, which is a complication I don’t need with this murder.” He rubbed his eyes. “I guess it was right to send Zander to Hillary’s for the night.”

I touched his arm. I knew how much he hated to give up time with his son. “You know I would normally offer to watch him for you, but since I’m staying with my parents tonight, I don’t think you want him here.”

“No, I don’t. If Zander knew about this Bigfoot thing, I would never hear the end of it. He loves those Bigfoot-hunter specials on television.” He shivered. “And if he did hear about it, Hillary would blame me.”

That I didn’t doubt. Mitchell had a fairly good relationship with his ex-wife, Hillary, but their marriage ended over his strange hours and police work. Hillary was hypersensitive about Zander’s being affected by any of Mitchell’s cases. The last thing in the world that
she wanted was their son to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a cop.

“Bigfoot aside, do you have any leads other than what you learned from Jonah?”