Secrets of Harmony Grove (25 page)

Though I truly hadn’t been fishing for a meal, Liesl returned with not just a plate of pie for Emory but also two plates of hot chicken salad on lettuce for Mike and me. I tried to refuse, but my growling stomach was giving me away. Mike seemed equally famished, and so we both gratefully accepted Liesl’s offering, especially after she returned with a plate for herself as well and joined us at the table.

After a silent shared grace, we all dug in, that first bite so delicious that I had to take a moment just to savor it.

“What’s the crunchy part on top?” Mike asked enthusiastically.

“Crushed potato chips,” Liesl said, smiling. “Makes a nice touch,
jah?
”

We chatted as we ate, and then turned to the task at hand. Getting Emory’s attention, I told him I had brought along my friend today because he needed to ask him something.

“Okay, but he still can’t have pie.”

“That’s all right. I enjoyed the salad instead,” Mike said easily. “Emory, I wanted to know if my people could take a look in your barn as part of our investigation. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure, go ahead. But be careful. There’s a Dark-eyed Junco by the door.”

“A Dark-eyed Junco?”

Emory put down his fork, tilted his chin upward, and began making a high-pitched, rapid tweeting sound with his lips.

“Is that a bird, Emory? A Dark-eyed Junco is a bird?”

“Yes, a common North American songbird. The nest has three eggs in it. I looked at it but I didn’t touch it.” In a higher, more singsongy voice, he added, “‘Never, ever touch baby birds or their nest because then the mother might not come back.’” I smiled, recognizing the patient, instructive tones of Grandma Maureen that he was quoting. Emory was almost as good at mimicking voices as he was at making bird calls.

“Okay, then,” Mike said. “Since you don’t mind, we’re going to head on out to the barn. But I promise I’ll tell all of the policemen to watch out for the birds and their nest.”

As if Mike had flicked a switch, suddenly Emory put down his fork and began rocking back and forth and humming. I knew it was the word “policemen” that had done it. Emory hadn’t realized what Mike was saying before, but he certainly got it now. Liesl saw what was happening and immediately placed a comforting hand on her cousin’s shoulder.

“Remember, Emory? Jonah talked to you about this last night. Policemen won’t hurt you. They are our friends. They can help us if there is a problem.”

“They’ll take me away.”

“Not if you haven’t done anything wrong.”

Emory didn’t reply. Instead he simply continued the rocking and the humming.

“I’ll be out there with them,” I told him. “Will that make you feel better?”

He didn’t answer but simply began to hum louder.

“He was like this last night,” Liesl said softly, looking from Mike to me.
“It just got worse and worse. In the end, we had to give him some of his pills just so he would go to sleep.”

“What kind of pills?” Mike asked, sitting up straight.

“Um, I think they are called Ativan? He doesn’t need them very often, but we can give some to him if he gets worked up.”

“Can I see the bottle?” Mike asked.

Liesl looked at me, eyebrows raised, and I nodded that it would be okay. Turning my attentions to Emory as Liesl led Mike from the room, I tried to think how my grandfather would have handled this moment.

“Hey, Emory, do you still have that movie called
The Amazing Ibis
?” He didn’t reply, so I simply got up from the table and moved over to the TV area in the next room. Making a big show of looking through old VHS tapes, I could see from the corner of my eye that I had his attention, at least somewhat. When we were younger, this was his favorite show, one he watched over and over.

“Well, look at that. Here it is. Do you mind if I put it on right now?”

He didn’t answer, but I turned on the TV and the VCR and popped in the tape anyway, adding that I could probably cut him one more sliver of pie to eat while he watched the show.

Calmed somewhat, Emory carried his fork and plate to the easy chair that sat directly in front of the TV. Soon the old documentary was playing on the television, and Emory’s rocking slowed to a stop as he was swept into the action. I took his plate and carried it and our dirty dishes into the kitchen. When I returned with the promised extra slice, I gave Emory’s plate back to him and then stood there next to his chair and watched the show for a few minutes as he ate. Mike and Liesl returned, and then he and I were able to make our exit.

As Liesl walked us to the door, I told her that my father was arranging for a caretaker and I would keep her posted on that.

“I’ll come find you later so we can talk,” I added.

“Please do,” she urged me, her voice and eyes emphatic. She gave me another hug and then softly closed the door behind us. Moving down the front step and onto the walk, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, thankful that the crisis had been averted, at least for now.

“Well, what did you see? Were his pills the same dosage that Nina had in her pocket?” I asked as Mike and I reached the end of the walkway and started along the worn path along the edge of the lawn.

“Yeah, but the script was filled two months ago. Except for the few that had been recorded on his medicine log, there were only six other pills missing and unaccounted for.”

“Meaning…”

“Meaning that the six pills in Nina’s pocket no doubt came from here, but that she hadn’t taken any of them yet. Whatever she and Floyd were intoxicated with, it probably wasn’t Ativan after all, at least not Emory’s Ativan.”

We headed toward the group waiting under the tree, both of us lost in thought. Up ahead they saw us coming, and when Mike gave them a thumbs-up signal, they all rose and began making their way toward the barn ahead of us.

Feeling uncomfortable, I apologized for Emory’s behavior, adding that I had no idea why the mention of policemen had made him act that way.

“Cops were here the night his father died,” I mused. “Maybe Emory associates the uniforms with people coming and taking his dad away.”

“It probably goes further back than that,” Mike replied, pausing to step around a cluster of rose bushes that protruded into the walkway and needed pruning. “He probably associates uniforms with being arrested.”

“Like on TV, you mean?”

Mike didn’t reply, so I glanced at him and was startled by the sideways look he was giving me.

“Wait. You mean Emory himself? He was arrested? When? Why? How do you know?”

“I read through his records this morning.” Mike paused near my grandfather’s old vegetable garden, his eyes scanning the weed-filled furrows. “You didn’t know?”

I shook my head.

“I’m sorry. It was a long time ago, before you and I were even born. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

I pressed him for dates, and finally he told me that the first time Emory
had trouble with the law he was just a child of about ten or eleven. The second time, he was older, a young adult of about twenty.

“I never heard this before.”

“It’s true.”

Mike knelt and studied a half-rotted pumpkin that was nearly hidden in the tall grass.

“Was he charged with a crime?”

“I don’t know details about the first time. He was a juvie then, and those records are sealed. The second time, from what I could see, he was charged, but your grandfather worked things out with everyone involved and the charges were eventually dropped.”

“What was he accused of doing?”

Mike poked at the pumpkin with a stick.

“I’d rather not say. You might ask someone in your family about it. Maybe your father knows and could tell you. I shouldn’t even have said this much. I just assumed you knew.”

I stood there for a moment, trying to understand what he was saying. Poor Emory was so clueless in certain areas that I had to wonder if perhaps he had accidentally committed a crime, such as walking out of a store with a candy bar in his hand without paying for it. Whatever had happened, it had to have been an accident. Emory was about as innocent and guileless as they come.

“Does this look like scat to you?” Mike asked, holding back the weeds with his stick.

Trying not to be grossed out, I leaned over to take a closer look, wondering why he was doing this if the bear had already been caught. Reaching for another stick, I pushed more of the weeds out of the way and then I couldn’t help but laugh, pointing toward its stem, which was still attached to the vine.

“Spend much time tracking wild animals, do you?” I teased.

“Okay, okay, so I’m a city boy at heart. I just spotted the orange of the pumpkin and thought maybe it was similar to what my guys found over near your pool.”

Mike tossed his stick aside and stood.

“Why were you reading Emory’s file anyway? Surely you don’t think he had anything to do with Troy’s death.”

He shrugged, brushing the dirt from his hands.

“This property offers direct access to the grove. Nina was found in this driveway. That makes Emory a POI.”

“POI?”

“A person of interest. Don’t worry, Sienna. Your uncle has an alibi for the time span we’re focusing on. He was at work all afternoon, and then he went over to his boss’s house for dinner. He didn’t get back here until almost eleven last night.”

Mike gestured toward the barn, and we continued on our way. While I was glad Emory had an alibi for the time in question, I had to wonder how Mike knew all of that.

“Did you interview him?”

“Didn’t have to. Emory’s boss brought him home last night, and they arrived here at the same time as two of the patrolmen who were going around warning neighbors about a possible animal on the loose. They got the information on his whereabouts at that time.”

“Ah.” No wonder Emory had gotten so worked up last night. He had come home from dinner to find two cops at his house—cops who wanted to know where he had been and what he had been doing.

Mike excused himself to call the other part of the team and tell them to drive on over. When he hung up, I spoke, trying to sound casual. I wondered if he had looked up my name and found me on some government investigation list somewhere.

“So…were there other POIs? Find anything surprising?”

We reached the barn and paused, looking through its cavernous doorway at the activity inside. Soon even more officers and technicians would be here as well, hunting for tools, testing chemicals, trying to solve a puzzle with far too many pieces.

“You might say that I came up with more than I bargained for on a couple of hits,” Mike replied evenly.

Then he headed into the barn with the others and got down to work.

Hovering along the fringes of the action, I had just managed to locate the Dark- eyed Junco nest in a low bush beside the barn when I heard what sounded like gunshots in the distance. I immediately took cover behind the bush and drew my weapon. Watching, waiting, my heart pounding, I suddenly realized that no one else seemed alarmed or had even reacted at all.

Lowering the gun, I listened intently, wondering if I was imagining things. Then I heard the sound again, just as Mike came walking past.