Mulch Ado about Murder Page 18

  “She promised me she’d tell me later,” Cam murmured, more to herself than to the group.

  “And we have the question of why they didn’t call nine-one-one,” Lucinda said.

  “That one is really confusing,” Cam agreed. “Did they think they could keep it secret? A guy falls down, you call for help. Not phoning it in is the most suspicious thing of all, as I see it.” Her brain ached from the strain of trying to figure out events that didn’t seem to have a sensible explanation.

  “And now you’ll never know what Carlos was doing snooping around last night,” William pointed out.

  “Carlos was snooping around here?” Lucinda wrinkled her nose. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Pete found him, but Carlos only said he wanted to talk with me.”

  “And didn’t just call you or ring the doorbell?” Bobby asked. “That’s crazy.”

  Cam pursed her lips “I’ll say.” She looked at Lucinda and Bobby across the table. “And I found a rosary on the ground outside the house this morning.”

  “Carlos must have dropped it,” Lucinda said.

  “It had to be him,” Cam said. “I called the detective, and he came and picked up the beads. Which looked exactly like the ones Nicole had in her hand when I found her.”

  Lucinda cocked her head. “What were the beads on the rosary like?”

  “They looked like little beans or something,” Cam said.

  “Not plastic?” Lucinda asked.

  “I don’t think so. The surface was a bit duller. They were red with a black dot at one end. Not quite round.”

  “Those belonged to Carlos,” Lucinda said, nodding in recognition. “I saw him praying with them at Mass. Pretty unusual these days. They’re like the ones Avó said her Hail Marys with back in Brazil. They’re made of real beans or seeds or something. My grandma liked the traditional stuff.”

  “So maybe Carlos had given Nicole a matching rosary,” Bobby said.

  “Or she’d given him one,” Cam said.

  “That makes sense.” Bobby sank his forehead into his hands and stared at the table. “Except now they’re both dead.”

  Chapter 28

  Cam sprawled in a lawn chair in her backyard at six that evening. Bobby and Lucinda had stayed to work after lunch. William had said he would clean up the food and then needed to rest, claiming a strained muscle in his back. With Bobby and Lucinda’s help, Cam had accomplished a lot of needed farmwork in a few hours. The couple had just driven away, a dozen eggs and a bag of asparagus in hand. It would be good to have Ellie as a regular employee on the farm for the summer. Cam couldn’t do it all alone.

  Now her muscles twitched as she relaxed, still in the work T-shirt and old jeans she’d changed into after lunch. What a day it had been. Working in the morning. A lovely small town parade with all of her favorite people except Pete. Seeing Rudin’s anger across the street. Watching in bewilderment as her own mother left to join him and Geneva. And the terrible scene at the house, starting with Deb’s strange behavior about calling in the death and ending with Carlos’s unseeing eyes. She blew out a noisy breath. Not a single fact of the two murders was clear to her. What she wouldn’t give to sit down with Pete and talk it through. And speaking of the police, no officer had come back to do a more thorough search today, as far as she knew, but it probably didn’t matter. She’d found the rosary and couldn’t imagine what else Carlos could have dropped.

  Cam gazed at her phone. She’d promised to call Albert and fill him in, but she didn’t have the energy to explain what had happened at Nicole’s house. She’d send him an e-mail later.

  When she heard the screen door slam behind her, Cam craned her neck to see her mom walking down the steps holding two glasses of white wine. Maybe they were finally going to have that talk.

  Deb handed Cam one of the glasses and sank into the chair at a right angle to Cam’s. “Thought you could use this,” she said.

  “You’re right, I can. Cheers, Mom.” Cam held up her glass.

  Deb reached over to tap her glass against Cam’s, then she took a hearty sip. “I owe you a story, it appears.” She gazed at the big maple tree. Preston stood from where he’d been resting next to the trunk and moseyed over to Deb, rearing up to rub his side against her leg. Deb reached down to stroke him.

  Cam sipped her own wine, the cool alcohol soothing her still-scratchy throat. She waited for her mom to speak. Cam had asked enough questions without getting answers. If Deb wanted to talk, she was going to have to take the lead.

  Gazing at the barn and not at Cam, Deb took a breath, her shoulders rising and falling with it. “I met Geneva in Florida, during that time I told you about.”

  “I wondered about that.”

  “She worked at the rehab facility.” Deb looked straight at Cam. “I did something bad. Illegal. And Geneva caught me at it. I’m ashamed and never did it again, but she’s been threatening me ever since.”

  “Do you mean she’s blackmailing you?”

  The skin around Deb’s eyes was strained, and her head hunched into her shoulders. “Sort of. I also know something about her, so we each agreed not to tell on the other, so to speak. But I hadn’t seen her since we left Florida.”

  “What bad thing did you do, Mom?” Cam kept her voice soft and laid her hand on her mother’s. Deb was clearly in pain. Cam had never seen her this way.

  “I think I’d like to tell you and your father with your detective present.”

  “Daddy doesn’t know, either?”

  “He doesn’t. I have to come clean to both of you about what happened. I owe you that. But I also have to tell the police.”

  It must have been something pretty bad if her mom wanted to confess to the police. But what?

  “Will you call and see if Pete can come over?” Deb clasped Cam’s hand. “Please?”

  Chapter 29

  By seven o’clock Pete sat in the living room with Cam and her parents. Cam had fixed tea for them all, but Deb hadn’t touched hers. Her lips were pressed together as if she was keeping them from quivering. Pete leaned forward, his forearms on his knees.

  “Thank you for inviting me to hear your story, Dr. Flaherty. Just so you know, I’ll be obliged to share any account of possible criminal activity with the appropriate authorities. I want to be sure you’re aware of that.”

  Deb nodded from the couch, where she sat holding hands with William. “Yes,” she said. “I can’t keep this secret any longer.”

  “Go ahead,” Pete said.

  He wasn’t smiling, but Cam thought his calm, open face would encourage her mom to speak.

  “William and I had a sabbatical semester in Miami. What was it, three years ago, Bill?” She glanced at him.

  “That’s about right.”

  “As I told Cam, I volunteered in a nursing rehabilitation facility. I told stories about our travels and our research. It was a kind of entertainment for the shut-ins. Nicole had been in a serious accident and was living at the rehab while she regained her strength. We became friendly.”

  Preston wandered in and jumped up on the back of the couch behind William.

  “What was the accident?” Pete asked.

  “Nicole fell down the stairs in her house. People talked at the time that her husband might have had a hand in it, but Nicole could never prove it.”

  “Really?” Pete sat up straight.

  “Yes. Anyway, Geneva worked at the rehab. She was the receptionist.”

  Cam cleared her throat. “Mom told Ivan she’d never met Geneva before. Is that going to be a problem?” she asked Pete.

  “Let’s let her finish the story. Please go on, Professor.”

  “You can call me Deb, you know. I had left the rehab at the end of the day. It was my last day visiting with the residents before William and I were to depart on our research trip to the Maldives. I was driving west, and there was terrible solar glare.” She swallowed. She squeezed William’s hand and let it go, laying her hands flat on her thighs. �
�I heard a thud. I felt it, too. I couldn’t see anything. I panicked and drove away.”

  Cam’s eyes widened. “You hit somebody and you didn’t stop?”

  Deb shut her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, they glistened. “Yes, Cameron, I hit someone. I kept on going. I’m a coward, and I’ve been living with it.”

  William laid his arm across Deb’s shoulders. “You were very eager to watch the news in the airport the next morning, as I recall. You could have told me, honey.” The corners of his mouth and eyes dragged down.

  “I know. But I didn’t. I was terribly ashamed of myself. I’d never been that kind of person.”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “And you’re still not. You made one mistake, that’s all.”

  “Geneva wrote to me after that,” Deb went on. “She tracked down my e-mail address, said she’d seen the whole thing, that she knew I was at fault.”

  “But it wasn’t like you were trying to hit this person,” Cam said.

  Deb gave her a look. “A hit-and-run is a terrible thing, and illegal. Isn’t that right, Detective?”

  “Yes,” Pete said. “The law varies from state to state, however, and I’m not familiar with the Florida statutes. In Massachusetts it could result in a prison sentence.”

  Her upstanding, disciplined, successful mother in prison? Cam couldn’t believe this was happening. From the worried look on her father’s face, he couldn’t, either.

  “Cam said you know something about Geneva, as well. I’m very interested in hearing about that,” Pete said. “Did she also commit a crime that you witnessed?”

  “She was an addict. Probably still is. She often acted odd. She sometimes had unexplained absences. Once I came upon her trying to break into the pain meds cabinet. She knew I saw her and made up some excuse.”

  Pete watched Deb. A few days ago he’d wondered to Cam if Deb herself might be an addict. Was he still thinking that?

  “Usually nursing homes and rehabs lock up narcotic meds like it’s Fort Knox,” Pete said. “Could Geneva have stolen any?”

  “It wasn’t a very well-run place. I heard they went out of business a year later.”

  “Please go on.” Pete rolled his hand.

  “Geneva e-mailed me and said she was going to inform my university about my involvement in the accident unless I paid her quite a large sum of money. I wrote back and suggested I would let the rehab as well as the local police know of her drug use.”

  Pete opened his mouth to speak, but Deb held a hand up.

  “I was about to report her trying to steal the meds when the accident happened. We agreed to form a mutual silence society.” Deb squared her shoulders. “And now you know. It’s been hanging over my head for years and I’ve had enough. I don’t care what happens to me.”

  Oh, Mommy. Cam’s heart went out to her mother. The burden she’d been carrying. The secret she’d been hiding even from Cam’s father. The prospect of going to prison, and the likely end of her academic career, which had been her life up to now.

  “I appreciate your including me in this session,” Pete said. “I will need to relay these facts to Ivan, and possibly to the Miami police. Depending on how the victim fared and the state laws, they might bring criminal charges.”

  William frowned, but he kept his arm close around his wife.

  “I tried to find news of the accident,” Deb said. “I located one article reporting on an older woman who’d stepped off a curb and was hit. But after the first day’s report, I wasn’t able to find out whether she recovered. Part of the problem, of course, was being in the Maldives with sketchy Internet access while the news was fresh.”

  “I’m sure we can track back the victim’s status. I’ll need the name and location of the rehab, and the date of the accident.”

  “I’ll e-mail them to you,” Cam’s mom said.

  “Fine. Cam knows how to reach me.” Pete stood and held out his hand to Deb, who also stood and shook hands. “We’ll be in touch.”

  “I’m sure you will, Detective.” Deb lifted her chin, her face pale and still.

  “Wait,” Cam said. “You both have airline tickets for tomorrow, don’t you?” She looked at her parents.

  “We called and postponed the trip,” William said. “What with all this going on.”

  “A wise choice. Deb, you did the right thing tonight,” Pete said. “And you can call me Pete, you know.” He pulled a wry grin. “Good-bye,” he said to Cam’s father.

  “Take care, now,” William said.

  Pete turned to Cam. “Walk me out?”

  “One second.” She stood and held her arms out to her mom, who stepped into them. Cam didn’t speak but just hugged, feeling her mother’s strong, slender back under her hands, smelling the herbal scent of her shampoo. She wasn’t sure she’d ever hugged her mother like this. Certainly not since she’d grown taller than Deb in middle school. “You’re going to be okay, Mommy,” she whispered, the first time she’d called her that in twenty years.

  Deb squeezed back for a moment. She pushed back, her eyes full of tears. “I suppose I will. Thanks, honey. I feel like a box of bricks has slid off my back and I don’t have to pick it up again.”

  Cam smiled, wiping away the overflow from her own wet eyes. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Pete took Cam’s hand as they walked down the back steps and stood on the driveway. “You obviously didn’t know anything about that experience.”

  “I totally didn’t know about it.”

  “Are you all right?” he asked, squeezing her hand. “That’s a lot to hear, especially considering how distant your mom has been.”

  “It’s hard to think she could do something like that.” She gazed at Pete. “My mother is such a straight arrow, Pete. She . . .” Cam shook her head. “And to think she might have to go to jail for a hit-and-run worries me so much.”

  “I know. But we’ll deal with that when the times comes. If it comes. Let’s sit down for a minute.” He led her to the picnic table, where they sat side by side, backs to the table. A cool breeze blew the impending twilight through the leaves above them. Pete slung his arm across her shoulders, rubbing her arm.

  “Do you think Mom will really have to go to prison?” Cam asked. Maybe Deb would be able to make the best of the situation. She could lead an anthropology study group with her fellow prisoners or teach something else. But it wouldn’t be easy. Not at all. And being convicted and incarcerated would destroy her academic career. Poor Mom.

  “I can’t say. If the victim was only slightly injured and doesn’t want to press charges after so many years, that might affect the sentence. I also don’t know about the Florida statute of limitations on an unlawful driveaway.”

  “I hate to think of her in prison. She’s just started to open up to me.” Cam fell silent. She’d read awful things about prisoners abusing each other. Did incarcerated women do that, too? How would her intellectual mother survive? Sure, Deb was fit and healthy, but Cam didn’t think she had any experience with prison populations.

  “Your mom’s suspicion about Rudin maybe pushing Nicole down the stairs could be important,” Pete said. “And frankly, Geneva’s using is the least surprising part of what Deb said.”

  Cam sighed. She couldn’t do anything about the case from the past. But she could try to help her mom right now. “Remember when we talked about Nicole being an addict a few days ago, and you said you can’t always tell by looking at someone whether they’re using or not? Maybe Rudin is an addict, too,” Cam said. “Or maybe he’s the supplier. He is a pharmacologist, remember.”

  “That has come up in our conversations about the case,” Pete acknowledged.

  “He could have been Nicole’s supplier, too. She might have become hooked on narcotics in the rehab. I hear that’s pretty common. Right? Wouldn’t that explain the tourniquet in the greenhouse?”

  “It could.”

  “Or maybe the tourniquet was Geneva’s.” She turned to face Pete. “I s
till don’t know Nicole’s cause of death. You must by now.”

  “I haven’t had a report from Ivan today. They found heroin in Nicole’s system, but it wasn’t a case of overdose.”

  “Could she have been poisoned with something?” Cam asked.

  “Certainly. But the lab has to know what to test for. And right now we don’t know how to narrow it down.”

  She stared across the yard to the perennial garden. The white flowers of the snowdrop anemone glowed in the dim light. Too bad their almost eerie appearance couldn’t pull some answers out of the ether.

  “Earth to Cam?” Pete said. He pulled her in for a sitting embrace. “I miss you, sweetheart.”

  “Mmm.” The feeling was entirely mutual.

  He pulled away. “And the sooner we solve this case, the sooner you and I can get back to normal.”

  “I know. And that means you’re leaving.”

  He smiled ruefully. “You got it.” He stood.

  “Hey, is Dasha doing okay with you working so much?”

  “Heading home right now to take him for a walk before I go back to the station.”

  “You can bring him over again, you know.” Cam stood, too.

  “I think maybe I will. Tomorrow morning okay?”

  “Of course. Speaking of animals, I need to go put the hens to bed.”

  After another kiss, Pete headed for his car and Cam trudged out toward the chicken coop. Not in a thousand years would she ever have expected Deb to have acted like she did this week. But if she’d learned one thing in her year of farming, it was that the unexpected will happen when you least expect it. She’d also learned the corollary: She, Cam, was way more resilient and flexible than she’d ever suspected.

  * * *

  The latch on the coop clicked shut, with all the hens safe inside. The day-after-full moon hadn’t yet risen, and it was dark out here in the field. Cam felt for her cell in her pocket to use the flashlight app, but of course her phone was in the house. Figured, despite all the times she’d vowed never to come out here again without it. The air was cool too, with the post-sundown earth sending up its rich-smelling moisture.