A Corpse for Yew (31 page)

“Then they’ll probably prosecute him without them, and how Lois died will be a mystery.”

She changed the subject, and they talked about the upcoming engagement party until they reached the lake. Two police officers were standing guard at the crime scene today, and they let her pass when they saw her ID.

It was getting easier to spot the yew bushes she hadn’t already tagged and taken samples from than the ones she had. “I’ve covered all the ones closest to the lake. I guess I’ll move further afield.”

“Where did you say Snook found the purse?” Steve asked.

“In a cedar stump a few hundred yards from the lake.” Peggy looked out at the dark, heavy mud where the lake had been. “You can see Baby Island from here. That’s a treasure trove everyone would like to investigate, if anyone could figure out how to get there.”

Steve followed her line of vision to what appeared to be a large bump in the surface of the mud. “Why do they call it Baby Island?”

“Because all the babies were buried there.” She began cutting yew branches and placing them in plastic bags. “Apparently when Whitley Village was here, people believed newborn babies were bad luck to put in the cemetery. They buried all the stillborn children away from the church cemetery so their little souls couldn’t come back and haunt them.”

“That’s terrible. How does anyone know about that?”

“It’s in the museum’s archives. They have diaries and family Bibles from out here. They know a lot about the area. These artifacts and the hundred graves are valuable because they’ve been lost for so long.”

“I’m glad I don’t do this for a living. At least if one of my patients dies, it gets a proper burial.”

Peggy walked carefully away from the lake toward the parking area. She found the old, gnarled cedar stump with the black bole. It was easy to imagine Snook finding Lois’s pocketbook here.

There were several yew bushes close by. She cut the top branches from all of them and sealed them in the plastic evidence bags. “If Lois was alone out here and saw Snook at that time of the morning, knowing her friends wouldn’t be there for at least an hour, she had to be terrified. You know she’d think he’d hurt her.”

“I agree.” Steve glanced around the area. “What are you thinking?”

“If I was out here alone and felt threatened, I’d hide. There was no car to give her away. If she could hide long enough, her friends would be here and she’d be safe.”

“I suppose so. Especially since she was an older lady. She probably wouldn’t have thought of trying to confront him.”

“So where would she hide?” Peggy walked carefully around the side of the lake. “None of the trees are big enough for her to hide behind. She could’ve hidden behind a bush, I suppose.”

“What are you hoping to find?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Something that makes sense.” She had run out of plastic bags, and stripped off her gloves. “I’d like to believe Snook did this, I guess. It would be nice and neat.”

“But you’re still thinking about Chief Mullis, right? He’d be a messy suspect.”

“He definitely would be. But if you think about it, he had as much motive and opportunity as Snook. He inherits everything from Lois, including her estate, which is passed to him like John’s family will pass my house. He brought her out here incredibly early so he could make an appointment. He’s sorry about what happened, and claims he would do it over if he could.”

“And that would help your theory about someone friendly giving Lois the berries.”

“Yes.” Peggy’s cinnamon-colored eyebrows knit together above her bright green eyes. “On the other hand, it makes no sense whatsoever with the carnelian ring. I feel so certain it was involved in Lois’s death.”

“But maybe you’re wrong about it. Maybe it was nothing more than another artifact she took with her, and she dropped it. You said even your mom has a few artifacts.”

“I know. I can’t seem to have it the way I want it. Anyway”—she glanced around the all-too-quiet area with the spring churning the mud in the old lake—“it would take only a couple good rains before the site is lost again for another hundred years. Maybe it’s for the best. There’s a bad feeling out here. Maybe it’s just all the dead out of their graves. Maybe it’s so many people’s lives ended here.”

Steve put his arm around her shoulder. “No wonder you wanted me to come out here with you. Next thing you know, you’ll be jumping in the mud, too. Maybe that’s what
really
happened to Lois. She was out here and got depressed and went for a dive in the mud. She ate the poisoned berries just to make sure.”

Peggy shivered, but his words had broken her morbid mood. “You’re right. Let’s get out of here and do something fun.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I have to go to Lois’s funeral this afternoon. How’s that for fun?”

A GROUP OF SCOTSMEN WEARING kilts and
skean dhu
played the bagpipes at the funeral home. The wailing music reverberated through the old house on Morehead Street. Several mourners from other family groups came to the door to complain, but apparently the Mullis family had paid the funeral director well to allow the music.

Next came all of the members of the Shamrock Historical Society. They were dressed in black garments from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Grace wore a full, black bonnet that obscured her face. She tripped on her gown but was rescued by Geneva’s helping hand. Mrs. Waynewright’s black taffeta gown looked like it was something she wore every day. Annabelle smiled at Peggy who joined them.

Peggy nodded solemnly to her mother, who was wearing her grandmother’s black silk evening gown. She knew it well, having played “dress up” many times in it in the attic on rainy days. The large, stylish black hat had a dyed ostrich feather that lent it an air of elegance.

In traditional Southern fashion, the women laid a wreath of flowers intertwined with strands of Lois’s hair. The flowers, dyed black for the event, were significant. There was cyclamen for resignation and good-bye, oleander for beauty and grace, and hellebore for peace and tranquillity. Usually this was easily done because the women bathed and dressed the dead. But those days were long gone, and Peggy knew from her mother that Geneva had taken strands of hair from Lois’s brush when they’d been in her house.

Hired mourners cried loudly as they followed the procession of women to the gray coffin. The bottom half of the coffin was closed, but the top half remained open, revealing Lois’s gray face in repose. The mourners were unneeded in this case because there were plenty of people there who were sorry to see her go. Still, as Lilla had explained, better to have too many mourners than not enough.

Peggy sat close to the coffin, wearing what she’d come to think of as her funeral outfit: a crushed black felt hat and an older Ann Klein suit. Her black pumps hurt her feet as the procession to the coffin continued and everyone stood. The Mullises had two children, a boy and a girl. Chief Mullis walked behind them with a woman Peggy assumed was his wife. She was rather drab and ordinary in her gray suit when compared to the flamboyant historical society members and the mourners.

Peggy couldn’t help but notice that Lois’s son seemed to be angry with Chief Mullis, his cousin. No doubt upset not to inherit the estate, just as she was angry sometimes that Paul wouldn’t live on the Lee estate. It worked for families to pass the property down in this way; there was no favoritism about who inherited. But it was still hard.

As the family stood near the coffin, paying their last respects to Lois, Chief Mullis put his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. Lois’s son violently shrugged it off, and glared at him for good measure.

The woman pointed out to Peggy as Lois’s daughter seemed to be inspecting her mother rather carefully. She pointed something out to her brother at the same time that a small child beside her began to cry. The daughter picked up the child and mouthed
Where’s the ring?
to her brother.

Peggy wondered if she was talking about the carnelian ring. She glanced at Lois’s folded hands as the family went by. There was only a plain gold wedding band on Lois’s hand. There might be something more to this.

The procession continued following the family, down to the fourth and fifth cousins, before friends and neighbors were allowed to view the dead woman. In many ways, Peggy was glad Steve had been called away on an emergency when they got back from the lake. She felt sure he’d been happy as well. It took a true Southerner to appreciate a Southern funeral.

The daggerlike glances continued between the Mullis family members as Peggy sat back and watched them. She wished they’d say something more about the ring. Of course, it could be a completely different ring. There was no way of knowing. But she glanced up from her program from time to time and kept her ears open.

The preacher was charming and very ordinary for a funeral speaker. He said all the right things about Lois without the fire and brimstone many there probably expected. It started raining before the preacher and family members were finished eulogizing the dead woman. The rain added an appropriate air of sadness to the event.

Peggy stayed close to the family as they left the funeral service before the rest of the crowd. If she was mistaken for a member of the family, she was willing to play along. The group might never have words about whatever was bothering them, but it was possible. Many family feuds were begun while standing on the steps of the funeral home after the service.

She was beginning to think the family was too civilized to exchange words in public. Lord knows, hers would’ve been. But as the brother and sister reached the car that had brought them to the service, Chief Mullis pulled them aside.

At first, their words were heated but quiet. The little boy started crying again, and it seemed to aggravate the situation. “You’ve got everything now,” Lois’s daughter charged, looking pathetic as the rain plastered her thin brown hair to her head. “Leave us alone. I hope you rot with it.”

“I can’t help the way things are set up,” the chief said. “Honestly, I wouldn’t if I could. It’s served our family well for more than a hundred years. Your children will have their turn. My kids will be left out then.”

“You know there’s more to it than the estate,” the young man declared. “You weren’t supposed to keep her personal effects. Her jewelry—”

“Most of which goes with the estate,” the chief reminded him. “Look, I’ll let you go through her stuff that isn’t part of the estate.”

“You know what we want. Mother brought Uncle Silas’s ring with her to the marriage. You have no right to claim it.” Lois’s daughter stood her ground. “We’ll take you to court over this, Cousin. Make no mistake about it.”

Chief Mullis smiled in a gloating sort of way that turned Peggy’s stomach. “And who do you think a judge and jury are likely to find in favor of? Hell, I probably have lunch on a regular basis with whoever the probate judge is. Good luck, Cousins. I guess I’ll see you in court.”

He stalked away from the long, black car, ignoring everything else. Peggy had held her program to her face, but she hadn’t needed the disguise. As soon as the chief was gone, she walked over to the brother and sister, ignoring the quickening pace of the rain.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she told them. “Lois was a wonderful woman. I know you must miss her. We all do.”

At first they looked at her with something like suspicion in their eyes. Then the son’s face lit up and he hugged her. “Aunt Matilda! I haven’t seen you in years. I’m glad you could come for Mother’s funeral. How’s the rheumatism?”

“Not too bad right now.” Peggy played along. “I’m glad I could be here, too. You seem to be at odds with Arnold.”

“That’s putting it nicely,” Lois’s daughter said. “He’s cheating us out of everything. He’s taking the house and land, of course. We expected that. But we wanted her jewelry and the art she’d collected, along with some other personal effects. I don’t think we’ll get them without a fight.”

“Are you talking about the carnelian ring?”

Both children stared at her. “Not that we know of,” Lois’s son replied with a meaningful glance at his sister. “The most valuable piece is Uncle Silas’s diamond pinky ring. You know, it was handed down from your side of the family. The Mullises have no excuse for keeping it.”

Peggy’s hopes were dashed. She hadn’t found a diamond pinky ring. “What about the carved carnelian ring? That has historical family value.”

“We’re not sure about that piece,” the daughter said, “although now that you mention it, Mother did talk about an heirloom ring from the Civil War. I don’t know if she had it at the house. If so, Cousin Arnold has that, too.”