Old Bones: a Hetty Fox Cozy Mystery (Hetty Fox Cozy Mysteries Book 2) (3 page)

I glanced back at Laura. “I’d better be going.”

“Thanks for taking on this knitting group thing.”

“I only hope I won’t let you down.”

Laura smiled reassuringly. “You’re a very smart lady. I have every confidence in you.”

I nodded my farewells and left the two women there to sort out whatever problem was so troubling Becky.

T
he next few days passed in a blur of frustration. Valerie Hicks, I learned, was out of town. My efforts to negotiate a settlement in the knitting dispute had to be placed on hold temporarily. Andrew continued to sulk over my refusal to pursue this latest murder. Even dear Blackie seemed out of sorts. So when my phone rang one late afternoon, a few days later, I answered the call with foreboding in my heart.

It was my daughter, Megan Langdon. “Can you come over?” she whispered.

Hearing concern underpinning that short statement, my heart instantly leaped into overdrive. “What’s wrong?” I demanded.

“That mummy you found? She was Damon’s aunt.”

“Who?”

“She is… ah… she was his Aunt Eva.”

I frowned. “I’ve never heard Damon mention anyone called an Aunt Eva.”

“They weren’t close. But the police are here. Poor Damon’s being grilled.” There was pure terror in her words.

“I‘ll be right there.”

I’d never much cared for my son-in-law. He was a little too reserved for my tastes, a little too impressed with himself, too. But he was my grandsons’ father, which sent me scurrying.

After hanging up, I rushed through the house. I tracked down my car keys, ran a quick comb through my hair, and dashed to the garage. By the time I slid into the car, I was panting, and a thin film of perspiration had broken out on my face. After firing up the ignition, I threw the transmission into reverse and backed my car out of the garage. My tires didn’t exactly squeal, but it was close.

Megan, too,  lived across town on the flatlands. It was a ten minute drive between our two homes. I think I almost made it to her  three-story Victorian that day in less than five minutes. Finally, standing in her kitchen, I asked, “How has this mummy been tracked back to Damon?”

“It’s the DNA,” Megan replied. “The test shows clearly that she and Damon share an ancestor.”

The police had probably processed Eva Langdon’s DNA to help them identify her. I shook my head. “How in the world did the police get their hands on Damon’s DNA?”

Megan chewed her lip for a moment, then sighed.

“As it turns out, his parents had his DNA mapped in some kind of program sponsored by the police. I think it was part of an affair while he was on Boy Scouts. He was in his early teens then, but participating meant the data would remain on file with police forever.”

I shook my head. I’d always figured Damon had been spoiled and overprotected when he was a child. This latest information did nothing to change my mind. His parents would probably turn over in their graves to learn their son was now tied to a suspicious death as a result of this silly decision.

“It only means they’re related, though,” Megan hastened to explain. “The police aren’t saying he killed her.”

Not yet,
I thought. But I offered up a hearty, “That’s good, then.”

Megan shot me a pleading glance. “Please, let’s go into the living room. I hate leaving Damon to face  those two detectives on his own.”

“Is he okay with my being here?”

He had over the years of their marriage indicated he cared for me about as much as I cared for him.

Megan nodded. “He asked me to call you.”

I sighed and followed her to the living room. If he was willing to ask for my help, maybe Damon wasn’t quite as full of himself as he had seemed.

The two detectives glanced up as we entered the room. “Hetty,” Oberton said by way of greeting. Blake sat by his side. From what I had seen in the last case, he was the detective who played second chair in all the investigations.

I acknowledged the men with a worried nod. I had never doubted Oberton’s competence. But even competent policemen made mistakes.

“Damon,” I said, casting a glance his way. My son-in-law sat on the couch. His back was straight, his slender face grim.

I pulled my gaze back to Oberton. “So what is this all about?”

“It’s about police business. Now, I can see those wheels of yours turning inside your head. Stay out of it, Hetty. We’ve got this one covered.”

“How official is this?” I asked.

“Mother!” Megan looked at me with a horrified expression playing across her beautiful face.

I understood her objection. I didn’t want to rush Oberton or push him into an unwelcome decision, either. But questions had to be asked.

Oberton waved Megan’s protest off. “I’m not accusing your son-in-law of doing anything criminal. I’m merely asking him what he knows about his aunt.”

I sat on the edge of a small chair and hissed at my son-in-law. “You never mentioned having a missing aunt.”

“It’s not quite that straight forward,” he answered.

“Well, enlighten me.”

“She was my aunt, but I saw her only rarely. Detective Oberton wanted to know the last time I had. I told him it was at my parents’ funeral. He said that’s about when they think Eva died.”

His parents, David and Gloria Langdon, had been killed in a boating accident when Damon was still in his early teens. “And you didn’t notice that you never saw her again?”

He sighed. “I was distraught. My parents were dead. My aunt breezed into town, sobbed over their caskets. Then, as far as I knew, she went back to Chicago.”

“But what about birthdays and Christmases?” I pressed. “You didn’t notice when she didn’t send you a card or a gift?”

He turned his large, sad eyes on me. “It wasn’t like that. Eva and my parents were never close. She never sent me cards or presents. There was nothing like that to be missed.”

I sat back in my chair. Put that way, his explanation sounded reasonable enough. “Well?” I asked, turning to Oberton.

“I’ve talked to a couple of people who remembered Eva from when she was growing up. They support what Damon says. Apparently Eva liked the excitement of cities. They say she left Hendricksville as soon as she could and rarely came back.”

“Then how did she end up dead in one of our attics?” I asked.

“Well, it wasn’t by natural causes.”

I scowled. “Yes, so you’ve told me”

“The media has the story now, including the ID of the corpse. The news broke on the local radio station about a half hour ago. Doubtless it will be the lead story in tonight’s newspapers and on the TV as well.”

Megan grimaced. “But you can’t think Damon had anything to do with the murder.  He was so young.”

“I’m not charging your husband… yet.”

I rose from my chair.

“Mom, where are you going?” she asked.

“Home.”

“But… but….” She cast her gaze about the room.

I turned to face my son-in-law. “Damon, you’ll be fine. In the meantime, don’t say another word. Call a lawyer. Do exactly what he tells you to do. Megan, I’ll call you later... after I check on a few things.”

“Hetty,” Oberton said, fixing me with a hard stare.

“Sir, this is my family. I will do what I must to ensure their safety. And so will they.” That said, I marched out the front door.

***

“
We’re on. Aren’t we?” Andrew was practically tap dancing with excitement. “We’re going to take up the chase!”

“You saw?”

He nodded. “Every fascinating second of it.”

“I’m glad you found it entertaining. That was my son-in-law in the hot seat.”

“Yes, but he’s also a man I’ve heard you bad mouth more than a few times.”

I shrugged. “That was different. Before this, I thought of him as a distant relation. Now,” I expelled a lungful of air, “I suddenly see him as a valued member of my small family who is being threatened by the police.”

“And that changes things?”

I swiveled to face him. “Do you think I want my grandsons’ father convicted of murder?”

He took a step back and shook his head. “Probably not.”

“Indeed.”

“So I take it we’re on this case?”

“Absolutely. Damon may not be my favorite person, but he’s no murderer. I’m absolutely certain of that.”

“And you’ll start where?”

“In the kitchen,” I replied. “The first thing I want is a fresh pot of tea.”

I took off for the other room. Andrew instantly circled around me and popped up in front of me. Startled, I staggered backwards. “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” I hissed, my hand plastered to my chest.

“So did Damon know the McNays?” he asked. “I mean whoever the killer is, they had to have access to that attic.”

“That’ a good point. As to Damon knowing the McNays, I don’t know yet if he does.”

“That’s your first task, then, questioning him.”

“No, knowing Damon the way I do, he won’t thank me for focusing my attention his way. I’ll let him wait a bit. He might not even agree to speak with me.”

“What’s his problem?”

“I blame his parents.”

“Well, yes. I think I’ve you’ve already made that perfectly clear.”

“Look, would you please get out of my way?”

Andrew let me step around him, and I proceeded to the kitchen. After snatching the tea kettle from the stove, I turned on the water.

“You were going to fill me in on Damon’s background,” Andrew said, his arms folded across his chest.

l took a deep breath and said, “His family was a big deal here. They always have been, apparently. His great grandfather started a grain elevator and made mega bucks over the years.” I turned off the water and carted the kettle to the stove.

“The males in the family all carried on that tradition,” I continued. “Then, after his parents died, Damon inherited fistsfull of money and the business. Inheriting all that wealth at such a young age means he’s nearly impossible to deal with today. Or at least, he is for me. I assume Megan does better with him.”

“And his grain elevator is still a thriving business?”

“Yes.”

“But I thought the big conglomerates were pushing the little operators out of business.”

I looked at him suspiciously. “You seem rather well informed.”

“I watch the news with you. I read the newspapers over your shoulder. I keep up.”

I shrugged. “Yes, the answer to your question is that his business is alive and healthy. Damon’s firm is part of a multi-county cooperative. He and a group of elevator owners started it a year or two ago. It’s designed to push back at the big boys trying to sink them.”

“That’s clever.”

I nodded. “Damon put the entire operation together. And now he’s the new firm’s top dog. I’ve never doubted his business sense. And from what Megan says their personal income has almost doubled. No, when it comes to making money, Damon is a champ.”

“It is odd that he never noticed his aunt missing.”

“There are miles and miles separating Hendricksville and Chicago. If she never made an effort with Damon before her death, I could understand his indifference toward her later.”

“But she was killed here.”

“I know.”

“Do you think the killer was local, or did the murderer follow her down from Chicago?”

“How would a stranger to town have slipped her body into an attic belonging to a local couple? What are the odds against that?”

“You’re right. it’s more likely the killer was from here.”

“Besides, we’re better off if that person lives here. We wouldn’t have any chance of catching a killer from out of town.”

“So do you have a plan?”

“First, I need to know more about Eva. Who her friends were. What her relationship to that house and its owners might have been. As Oberton has indicated, it’s doubtful she climbed into that trunk on her own.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“I’ll start at the high school. The yearbooks should give me a clue about who was in her class. Some of those students should remember her. Then, I’ll see if any of them will talk with me. This is a small town. Someone should be able to fill me in.”

“What about me?”

I smiled. “Believe it or not, you can help. I want you to tour the taverns. Pick up what the men of Hendricksville are saying about her murder
—
if anything.”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” Andrew said, a big smile spreading across his handsome face. “When do I start?”

“Anytime you please.”

And with that, Andrew vanished from the room. Who said happy hour only started at 5 p.m.? Me? I turned to my tea.

***

Hendricksville High School sat on a plot of ground very near the Illinois River. It looked like most of the schools that were built in the early 1970s. Straight lines. Large swaths of clear glass. No colorful brick. No decorative touches. At least someone had planted some shrubs and evergreens at various locations. They improved the appearance of the square, squat building somewhat.

I pulled my car into the parking lot and headed for the entrance. On the inside, signs pointed me to the office. They told me that all visitors had to register there. I followed the arrows and soon found myself in a reasonably-sized room.