Murder Under the Covered Bridge (18 page)

“She's very busy and needs time to make it look right before printing.”

Joy nudged Charlotte from behind. “That doesn't change the fact it's only
mid-October
.”

“Just what are you accusing me of ? Because let's remember that we are in strange circumstances right now, what with two cases of arson under investigation and William's death. Plus we have Mary Ruth's challenges trying to manage a food booth at the Covered Bridge Festival when she can't stop selling out of food. We have too much going on. What any of us is experiencing here is hardly normal behavior. Who is to say how any of us should respond under such circumstances?”

Francine caught Joy's eyes in the rearview mirror and they exchanged glances. Finally Francine said, “We're not accusing you of anything. And you have a point. But the calendar has nothing to do with any of those things.”

“Of course it does. It's the starting point. If we hadn't been at the Roseville Bridge that first morning, we wouldn't be wrestling with any of this but Mary Ruth's food booth, and it may not have reached the popularity it has without the additional television exposure.”

It all made no sense to Francine. She promised herself she would keep one eye on Charlotte to make sure she did nothing with the calendar.

But once they pulled in the driveway back at the mansion in Rockville, that promise became complicated. Sitting in the driveway was the Buick she and Charlotte had searched for twice. The one belonging to William and his wife, Dolly.

twenty

Alice maneuvered Francine's car
around the Buick and parked in the garage in the back. Jonathan followed in the truck but didn't park in the garage since there wasn't enough room. When they got out, Dolly was walking toward them, her pumps clicking on the concrete. She was dressed in a charcoal gray suit with pencil skirt, the type one might wear to a funeral. She carried a handkerchief and seemed distressed.

Francine and Jonathan hurried to meet her. “Dolly, I'm so sorry,” Francine said. “I'd hug you but I'm a soggy mess from falling in the creek at Bridgeton.” For that, Francine was actually grateful. She shook hands with Dolly. Jonathan followed her lead and did likewise. “Are you doing all right?” Francine asked. “Let's go inside.”

Dolly allowed herself to be whisked into the house and settled in the kitchen. Francine introduced everyone, and they expressed their condolences. Charlotte offered Dolly tea while suggesting Francine change her clothes before she caught her death of a cold. Francine went upstairs to do that, taking Charlotte's jacket with her. The other women excused themselves to hang up their jackets as well.

Francine changed into comfortable jeans and a
non-ugly
sweatshirt, grateful to be dry again. She hid the photos she'd obtained from Joy to prevent Charlotte from finding an immediate use for them, even though she knew it would easy for additional copies to be printed. Then she hurried back down to the kitchen.

Charlotte was questioning Dolly over tea while Jonathan sat quietly. The others took orders from Mary Ruth getting food ready for tomorrow. Two of the
apple-cinnamon
scones Alice had made the previous day were in front of Charlotte and Dolly, which surprised Francine since she thought they had all been sold earlier in the day. But the appearance of Charlotte's large purse lying open made her think Charlotte had obtained them one way or another before they had reached the public.

At least she's sharing.

Francine sat next to Dolly and across from Charlotte. She noticed the teacup was empty. “Can I get you any more tea?”

“No, thank you. Your friend Charlotte has already offered.”

“Dolly was telling me that William's funeral will be here in Rockville on Wednesday,” Charlotte said.

Dolly filled her in on the details. It would be at Brooks & Nay Funeral Home. The visitation would be on Tuesday in the early afternoon.

“I'll be there,” Francine said immediately. “Is there anything you need in the way of help? Anything I can do?”

“Not that I can think of. My sister is here now, and she's been a big help to me. I don't know what I'd do without her.”

“Yes, your sister. Did she help you find William's car? Charlotte and I went looking for it but weren't able to find it, were we, Charlotte?”

Charlotte shook her head in exaggerated fashion. “No, not at all. Now that I think of it, Francine, we still have William's key. Let me go get that for you.” Charlotte wielded her cane energetically and hightailed out of the room.

Francine had no idea what Charlotte might be up to, but she felt the need to keep a conversation going with Dolly while Charlotte went to get the key. “It feels right that William's funeral should be here in Rockville.”

“William never strayed far from his roots in Parke County,” Dolly said, giving a rueful smile. “I used to joke that his blood was locally made maple syrup.”

Francine smiled at her remark. “You could never take Parke County out of William. He always called it home.”

“And I wouldn't take him away from it now. One of the reasons I managed the nursing homes in Terre Haute and Clinton while he took care of the ones here was because of his affection for the area. He knew everyone.”

Francine tried to think kindly of her cousin, especially considering he had just passed away. But all she could think to say was, “And I'm sure everyone knew
him
,” knowing that it was true because William was so awkward socially. Once people met him, they knew him and tried to avoid him. She moved on to a new topic. “I understand he was a historian?”

“He thought of himself as one. Used to scour the antique markets around here looking for old items—correspondences, diaries, anything from the past. He was always poking around in the archives at the Rockville library. Do you know the old family cemetery?”

The mention of it brought back sad memories to Francine. She remembered her grandmother being buried there. She was pretty sure she could find her way there. Her mother had taken her there a few times to visit the graves. But her own mom and dad were buried in Evansville. “I think so. It's out by the old family farm, isn't it?”

“Your side of the family, yes. William had it registered in his name and was taking care of it. We'll have the graveside ceremony there. It was where he wanted to be buried.”

There was a silence that grew awkward the longer it lasted. Dolly took a bite of the untouched scone in front of her. “This is delicious,” she said. “I heard that Mary Ruth's Fabulous Sweet Shoppe has been a big hit.”

Mary Ruth, who'd been working in the kitchen, came over. “Thank you. I'm glad you like it. My partner Alice made those. She's really catching on.”

“I don't know what could be keeping Charlotte,” Jonathan said. “Let me go check on her.”

Thanks
, thought Francine.

Mary Ruth and Dolly made small talk for a couple of minutes. Francine found herself drumming her fingers on the table. She had been thinking about the cemetery when she remembered Zed's surprise assertion that William had been poisoned. At the next opportunity, she asked about it. “Do you know what caused William to pass away like that? When we'd last talked, you'd indicated he was doing well.”

Charlotte burst into the room. “Here's the …” She noticed Dolly's downcast expression. “Sorry.” She laid the key to William's car next to Dolly's hand.

Francine patted the seat where Charlotte had been sitting originally and Charlotte took the hint. “I had just asked Dolly if she knew what caused William's condition to decline so rapidly.”

“I don't have any idea. I think the coroner might do an autopsy. I'd just as soon his body be cremated and buried, but I guess rules have to be followed. To have to wait for an autopsy when he was in the hospital and in a coma just seems senseless. I mean, given his age and his condition, it was clearly something related to his going into the coma that killed him.”

“Clearly,” Charlotte said. “Which implicates Zedediah Matthew.”

Dolly looked up. “Yes, it does. Especially given that it was Zedediah's shots that caused his fall into the creek and began all this trouble.”

“We don't know that, do we?” Francine asked. “The sheriff hasn't established whose rifle those expensed cases came out of. Not that I recall.”

“Do we know that?” Charlotte asked. “Has the sheriff established whose rifle those expensed cases came out of ?”

Dolly became indignant. “Whose else would they be?”

“That's the thing,” Charlotte said, giving Dolly a studious glare. “There were likely two shooters at Roseville Bridge. One who might have been Zed chasing William out of his property. But there was also someone upstream shooting at the bridge. They almost hit us. We were in the bridge.”

Dolly sat up in alarm. She seemed surprised by this information, but Francine couldn't place in what way. “This is the first I've heard of it,” Dolly said. “Why would there be a second rifleman? And why would he be shooting at you?”

Francine noticed that Dolly said
rifleman
. No one had said the second shooter used a rifle. But then, it might have been a logical assumption.

Charlotte continued trying to read Dolly's eyes. “We don't know the answer, but all of the events seem too coincidental to not be related. This unidentified shooter might have something to do with the arson at the Roseville Bridge or at Zed's house. Or William's death. How do you think they might be related?”

Dolly averted her eyes angrily. “I have no idea how, other than Zed is probably guilty of all three. Why are you asking me?”

“Charlotte is an amateur sleuth,” Francine said. “She sees connections everything. She didn't mean anything by asking you. I'm sure.”

“I think your view would be helpful,” Charlotte said. “You yourself admitted the events could be related. One must have caused the others. Set them off like a chain reaction. The first was William's accident. I presume it's the starting point, at least until we discover some event that occurred ahead of it. What we need to figure out is the motive that ties the three together. Like revenge.”

“Are you saying I had something to do with the others?” Dolly flipped back a lock of hair in a manner befitting an actress. It reminded Francine that Dolly was ten years younger than William. Honestly, she looked twenty years younger. Some people just had that gift, and others desired it.

“I'm not accusing you of anything, only using revenge as an example,” Charlotte said. She put on her innocent face, which annoyed Francine.

“You still don't have any idea what William was doing on Zed's property that morning?” Francine asked. “Or why he would be carrying a vial of some liquid?” She wanted to mention the mason jar she and Charlotte had found in the trunk of William's car, but that would give away the fact they'd searched it.

Dolly glanced toward the ceiling as if pondering the question. After a few seconds, she leveled her gaze at Francine. “I've thought and thought about it since you brought it up the first time, but I don't have a rational explanation.”

“I'd settle for an irrational one at this point,” Charlotte said.

Dolly stood up. “Thank you for the tea and scones but I need to be on my way.”

Francine rose as well. “Thanks for dropping by to let me know about the funeral. I appreciate that you drove all the way from Montezuma to tell me. You have my cell phone number, don't you?”

“I do. You gave it to me at the hospital along with your address here in Rockville. I needed to come this way anyway to see about a funeral tomorrow. Something had happened at our memory care unit here in Rockville. William had been seeing to it, but now it's fallen to me. It gave me a reason to stop by instead of call.”

“You don't have someone who can handle the nursing homes while you're going through this difficult time?” Charlotte asked the question in a sympathetic way, but there was also a touch of disbelief in it. Francine hoped that Dolly didn't pick up or react to it.

“It was out of the ordinary,” Dolly said defensively. “One of our longtime residents. William and I were close to her. Only one family member ever came to visit her, and the manager couldn't get hold of him. Sadly, we have to contend with this sort of thing all too often.”

“Was that the woman you were telling me about at the hospital?” Francine asked. “The one who told stories like
Little House on the Prairie
?”

“Yes, it was. Room seventeen. She'd been on a downward trajectory for some time now and had difficulty eating and drinking. Sad. Now I really must be going.”

Francine had a flashback to the slip of paper she'd found in William's car with the number seventeen on it. She had a feeling it wasn't a coincidence. The three of them walked to the front door. “I'll be there early on Tuesday for William's visitation. I'd be happy to help you and your sister with anything you need. A tragedy like this makes us appreciate friends and family, doesn't it?”

Dolly said, “You don't know how much,” but Francine didn't think it sounded sincere.

Dolly hustled down the driveway toward her car.

Charlotte stood at the window in the front room, watching her.

“What was that all about?” Francine demanded.

“All of what?”

“All of that questioning about the nursing home and William's death and everything being related.”

Charlotte moved away from the window. “Don't you think it's odd that Dolly is busy with someone else's death while she has William's to cope with? She doesn't seem particularly moved by any of your efforts to help. And you know better than I how Alzheimer's patients can die a slow death. I see it as so similar to William's comatose state. I wonder if the two deaths are connected.”

“You are such a suspicious person.”

“Because I see so many possibilities here? A shooting, a death, two cases of arson, now another death. And who is the person still standing? Dolly.”

“You forget Zed. If he didn't have so much faith in me, I'd say he's a better suspect.”

Charlotte gave her a devious smile. “And also the one more obvious. In mystery stories, it is rarely the most obvious suspect.”

“But this is real life.”

“You know what we could use right now? William's tablet. The one he was writing his history on. Because it might shed some light on what it was he found so fascinating about Zed's property.”

It dawned on Francine why it had taken so long for Charlotte to bring back William's key. “You snatched it out of William's car, didn't you?”

“I did, and handed it to Jonathan for safekeeping so I could get back in here as soon as I could.”

“Let's go find him.”