Rest in Peace (16 page)

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Authors: Frances Devine

BOOK: Rest in Peace
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I
t was nine in the morning, so the truck stop parking lot only had a scattering of vehicles. I spied Phoebe’s Altima parked near the building and pulled the van into the space beside it, battling a smidgen of envy as my eyes glanced off the shiny, apple-red coupe.

For the jillionth time, I wondered if I could afford the payments on a new car. But even though the lodge was doing well, I’d resolved to keep most of the income, as well as my inheritance, in the bank for emergency repairs and other things.

For the first time, I considered taking Dad up on his offer of a new car. But the thought passed, and I shook my head at my moment of weakness. I was independent and planned on staying that way.

A country song was playing as I walked into the restaurant. I spotted Phoebe and headed for her booth.

“Isn’t this cool?” Her eyes danced with excitement. “This is the first time I’ve been here.”

“Yes, it is nice.” I slipped into the seat across from her and ran my hand over the shining table top. “I love the newness of the place.”

“Me, too. It even smells new.”

“It also smells like breakfast, which I skipped this morning.” My stomach rumbled in agreement.

“Well, that’s the point of meeting for breakfast, silly.” She giggled, and I grinned in response. Phoebe and I were almost exact opposites in personality. Nevertheless, we’d formed a deep friendship. “I’m so glad we have these second Saturday breakfasts together, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely. And our monthly lunches.” Of course Phoebe and I saw each other at the lodge, and sometimes we made a foursome with Corky and Benjamin to go to a movie or out to dinner. But our girls-only meetings were special and had helped us get to know each other better.

“None of the staff here are locals,” she whispered. “Or at least I don’t know any of them.”

I glanced around. She seemed to be right. “They probably drive over from Branson or Caffee Springs.”

“If any of them are from Branson, I feel sorry for them when the ice and snow hit.” She nodded emphatically, then smiled at the waitress who stopped at our booth, menus in hand.

“Would you like something to drink?” Her smile was friendly as she laid the menus on the table.

“I’ll have a Coke.” Phoebe flashed her a grin. “And I’d like pancakes and sausage please. Two of each.”

Good grief. Coke with pancakes?

“Coffee, please, and a glass of water.” I glanced over the menu, then placed an order for bacon and scrambled eggs with wheat toast.

When the waitress left, Phoebe looked at me and shook her head. “Why do you bother to look at a menu? You know you always order the same thing.”

“Not always.”

“When did you not?” she challenged.

“Hmm. Let’s see. Oh, never mind.” I laughed at her satisfied grin.

Our food came, and we bowed our heads and prayed silently, then dug in.

“Why, that’s Uncle Jack.” Phoebe’s voice held surprise as well as excitement. “I wonder when he got back.”

I turned my head slightly. Sure enough, Jack Riley had entered. I caught my breath as the sheriff followed him in. They found a booth across the room from us.

“Now why would he be with the sheriff?” I mused aloud.

“Why? What do you mean?” Phoebe frowned, and I realized I’d done it again.

“Uh, nothing. I just didn’t know they were friends.”

“Oh.” Her face relaxed. “I thought you were making another of your cracks about Uncle Jack.”

“No. Of course not.” But I couldn’t help wonder if perhaps the sheriff was suspicious of the man. Maybe he was investigating him. But on the sly. Of course, subtlety wasn’t Bob Turner’s usual tactic. I couldn’t really see him asking someone to breakfast to investigate them.

“Phoebe, would you like to ask them to join us? I know it’s been over a week since you’ve seen your uncle.”

“What a great idea. Thanks, I think I will.” She jumped up and headed across the room. Both men looked up insurprise when she appeared at their booth. Her uncle smiled and started to scoot over, but she shook her head. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but a few moments later, she came back and sat down.

“Are they joining us?”

“No. They’re talking business, but Uncle Jack will be at my house by dinnertime. He just got back this morning.”

My ears perked up. “Back from where?”

She shrugged and took a bite of pancake, following it with a drink from her Coke glass. I shuddered.

“You don’t know?” I should probably drop the subject, but how would I ever find out anything if I didn’t ask questions? Phoebe certainly wasn’t volunteering information. Of course, she didn’t know how badly I wanted to know, and I couldn’t tell her.

“He didn’t say. What difference does it make?” She darted a suspicious glance at me, and I knew it was time to change the subject.

“Oh, I just wondered. I thought maybe he’d have another adventure to tell us about.”

“Well, my goodness, Victoria. He doesn’t just go from one adventure to another. He has business to take care of, too, you know.”

I nodded. “So when do you go for your fitting?”

Her eyes lit up. “Next Tuesday. I’m hoping you’ll go with me. Mother can’t get off work.”

“I’d love to. What time?” I meant it, too. I couldn’t wait to see Phoebe in her wedding dress. I’d be having mine fitted in a couple of weeks.

“Two o’clock. But I thought if you wanted we could leaveearly and have lunch in Springfield.”

“Okay, but I’m not going to that place that throws your rolls at you.”

She laughed. She, Corky, and Benjamin had been trying to get me to that restaurant for months, claiming the homestyle food was great and the atmosphere fun, but I wasn’t buying it. After all, how much fun could it be to have food thrown at you?

I bolted upright in bed, blinking in the sudden light, my heart hammering. The phone on my bedside table rang again. I grabbed the receiver. “Cedar Lodge.”

“Victoria? Were you asleep?” Corky’s voice held surprise and something else.

I glanced at the clock. The display flashed 10:30. “Yeah, I must have dropped off to sleep while I was reading. What’s wrong?”

He didn’t say anything. “Corky?”

“My father just called. They found Aunt Aggie’s suitcase in a Dumpster behind the bus station.”

A chill slithered down my spine. I sat bolt upright, my heart hammering against my ribs. “What?”

“Someone found Aunt Aggie’s suitcase in a Dumpster behind the Jefferson City Bus Station,” he repeated. I heard him take a deep breath. “There were traces of blood on some of the items inside.”

I gasped and tried to breathe normally. “Oh no. Oh Corky, no. Dear God.”

“I’m going to call Benjamin, and we’ll probably come over if that’s all right.”

“Yes, please do. Please get here as soon as you can.”

I yanked on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, then crammed my feet into a pair of moccasins. I bolted down the first flight of stairs, taking the steps two at a time, then slowed down and tried to be quiet as I walked down the second floor hallway to the next flight of stairs. I couldn’t face the seniors with this news. Not by myself.

I started the coffeemaker and got a fire going in the parlor. Horrible pictures invaded my mind. What-ifs pounded me mercilessly.

I piled cups and saucers, spoons, sugar, and cream on a tray, and set it on the counter by the coffeemaker.

The doorbell rang, and I hurried to let them in. Benjamin stood there alone. He took one look at my face and pulled me into his arms.

The sobs broke loose. Sobs I’d been holding back since Corky’s phone call.

“It’s okay, honey. Let it out.” Benjamin’s voice and the gentle caressing on my back soothed me, and finally the wracking sobs dwindled to an occasional whimper. After one more gentle pat, he lifted my chin and searched my face, then gave me a kiss on the forehead.

“Thanks, I’m okay.” I tried to smile but felt my lips tremble with the effort.

Through the open door, I saw Corky’s truck pull up. He jumped out, went around and opened the passenger door, and Phoebe stepped down.

I went to the kitchen and filled a thermal decanter with coffee, then took the tray to the parlor.

The four of us sat in stunned silence, casting somber glances at each other as we drank the hot coffee.

Benjamin set his cup on the tray and cleared his throat. “Corky, could you tell us again, just what your father said?”

Corky inhaled deeply, then let the air out in a rush. “This afternoon Dad received a call from the police department. They said they’d found something that might belong to Aunt Aggie and asked him to come downtown and take a look. When he arrived at the station, they showed him a suitcase. He was pretty sure it was Aunt Aggie’s. Then they said the tag on the luggage had her name and the Cedar Lodge address.

“Finally, they opened the case and let him view the contents. He recognized some of the clothing right away. And he identified the silver hairbrush and mirror. Then they told him the maintenance man found the suitcase in the Dumpster behind the bus station. By that time, Dad was worried sick, wondering why the bag was in the Dumpster, but there was more. They told him they found traces of blood on one article of clothing. They’d send it to the lab, but they don’t want to trust the hairbrush because someone else may have used it. They needed an uncontaminated article of her clothing or something she’d used. Dad took them some things from the house that belonged to her.” His voice cracked on the last word, and Phoebe leaned closer to him and took his hand.

“So…” I tried to speak but could barely get a sound out past the lump. I swallowed and tried again. “When will they get the lab results?”

“Not sure. They told Dad they’d try to get a rush on it. It could take a day and a half or a month. They’re checking fingerprints on the suitcase and contents, too. They got Aunt Aggie’s prints on a couple of things at Dad’s. If they find anyone’s besides hers, we’ll all need to go to the sheriff’s office and get printed so they can rule out our prints.”

I closed my eyes tightly. How could we wait that long to find out if the blood was Miss Aggie’s? And what if there were someone else’s prints? Would that prove foul play?

“Vickie, are you going to tell the seniors?” At the sound of Benjamin’s voice, I opened my eyes.

The seniors? How could I tell them such horrible news? But if I didn’t, what if someone else told them?

“Does anyone else know?” I asked.

“No, just Dad and the four of us. Oh, and Sheriff Turner. The police called him to let him know they had a lead.”

“Let’s wait until they get the test results before we say anything. Maybe someone stole her suitcase, and when they didn’t find any money or jewelry, they stuffed it in the trash. Maybe it’s not even her blood.”

“You’re right. They’re all worried enough as it is. There’s no sense in putting this on them until we know more.”

“Put what on us?” Miss Evalina stood in the doorway with Frank right behind her.

I woke up the next morning with a horrible headache. After we’d told Miss Evalina and Frank the details, they’d agreed to wait until we had more information to tell the rest of the seniors. Then, with sick expressions on their faces, they’d walked slowly upstairs to their suite.

Sleep had come to me in sporadic ten-minute doses throughout the night. The next morning I went downstairs on wobbly legs. Miss Jane was already in the kitchen, and the aroma of frying bacon and sausage greeted me.

“Good, you’re finally here.” Miss Jane tossed me a playful scowl to let me know she was kidding. “You can scramble the eggs while I finish the pancakes.”

I was happy to see she was too distracted with her preparations to notice anything amiss with me.

I did as I was told, and breakfast was soon done and placed in serving dishes on the sideboard next to pitchers of orange and apple juice.

I went back to the kitchen for the toast caddies, and while I was there, I heard the seniors entering the dining room. I had to get myself together before I faced them, so I stayed where I was for a moment, listening to the familiar voices that floated through the door. Then I put on a pleasant expression and walked in.

I was greeted with their usual banter and replied with what I hoped was my normal manner. Sunday breakfast was usually rushed, and today was no different. They got up one by one to go finish getting ready for church. As Miss Evalina passed my chair on her way out, she placed her hand on my shoulder for just a moment. I reached up and touched her hand briefly, glad to be able to share a moment of sympathy with someone who understood.

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