Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 04 - Awkward Moments (2 page)

Chapter Two

My brother-in-law bought the old white Perry farmhouse we were staying in at an auction in Nevada. I couldn’t recall if it was a foreclosure or sold for back taxes or what, but he bought it. The Perry’s weren’t the last tenants, but they’d been the first. Chris’s brother checked to be sure it was in good condition, made a few repairs and painted it before filling it with country-style furniture. The house was white with green trim, fitting for a farmhouse.

The property was about
ten acres, but no longer used for farming. It was meant to be a quiet getaway for my brother-in-law and his wife, and he let my little family take it over for a week for our adoption celebration with a warning that we’d better not get in trouble. I’d heard from my mother-in-law that Bill planned to do something with the acreage, but I had no idea what.

“Are you going to call your brother?” I
turned my green eyes in Chris’s direction.

“I suppose I should, but I’d rather not.” The side of Chris’s mouth turned down as though he’d tasted something bitter. “
You know he doesn’t approve of our lifestyle, even though I’ve tried to convince him we don’t get involved in these things on purpose. He still can’t get over our mother being involved in one of our
fiascos
, as he calls them.”

“Well, maybe he’ll believe you this time since the body is on
his
property.”

“
Or maybe he’ll get mad because I was digging,” Mikey said, sounding worried.

“I don’t think so, sweetie. He’ll probably be glad you were taking care of the little dead bird.” I hoped that was the case.
Bill could be intimidating sometimes. He was such a perfectionist, and he expected everyone else to share his trait. There’s no perfection to becoming involved with murders, so I was sure Chris was right when he said Bill didn’t approve of us. He’d hoped letting us use his house would keep us out of trouble since we’d be out in the country.

While I put the sandwiches together, Chris took the cell phone outside and called his brother.
I listened to the already familiar sound of the wooden screen door creaking just before it banged shut. He was gone for several minutes before returning to the kitchen and sitting down at the table.

“What’d he say?” I asked
, pulling my auburn hair back into a ponytail and putting a band around it.

“He said he couldn’t believe we found another body, and we’d better have everything taken care of before we leave to go home. He said he doesn’t want to have problems when he and Stephanie come to stay here.”

“Didn’t he understand that we have nothing to do with the bones?” I asked.

“He didn’t care. We found them, so it’s our problem.”

“I like Uncle Bill,” Mikey said, “but he sure can be a pain in the rear.”

“Watch what you say, Mikey. He
is
your uncle, and he’s your father’s brother.”

“I know, Mom. I
said
I like him.” He rolled his eyes, a bad habit he learned from me. “But I’ve even heard Dad call him a pain in the rear.” He giggled. “He didn’t say
rear
though.”

I turned to Chris who was studying the cell phone, trying to pretend he didn’t hear us.
He clamped his lips together, apparently trying not to smile.

“Let’s eat.” I set a plate of sandwiches on the table.

We were finishing our food when I heard a car pull in. Chris stood and walked to the screen door. “The cop is here,” he said, over his shoulder. Pushing the door open, he walked outside to meet the law.

The door banged shut with finality.

“I’m goin’ out, too.”

“Finish your sandwich.”

Mikey took a huge bite of his sandwich, trying to finish it so he could follow his father.

I left
him at the table and followed Chris, with the dogs on my heels. “Stay!” I pointed toward the kitchen and they reluctantly returned to Mikey’s side where they gave him their most pitiful we-need-a-bite-of-sandwich look. I figured he’d probably oblige them so he could hurry outside.

Pushing open the old-fashioned screen door
again, I heard it squeak with age just before it banged again. I was surprised that Bill hadn’t replaced the screen door when he did repairs to the house.

Chris was standing
at the bottom of the porch in front of the house with a copper who looked like he wasn’t long out of high school. Rail thin and medium height with light brown hair, he glanced up and watched my approach. He might look young, but he was good-looking and I had a feeling he might be a heartbreaker.

“Ma’am,” he said, “I’m Officer
Stubbin. How are you today?” He held out his hand and we shook. I appreciated his good manners.

“I’m fine other than my son finding a body in the yard.”

He had a great poker face and didn’t react, a good trait for a young cop. “Would you folks show me where this alleged body is?”

“The
alleged
bones are under the oak tree,” Chris said, pointing across the yard. “Our son dug them up.”

“Why was your son digging?”

“He was going to bury a dead bird and got carried away. He dug down a few feet before finding the bones.” Chris rocked back on his heels, one of his Bogey Man habits, but before he could get into his Bogey persona the copper began walking toward the oak tree.

Chris rolled forward again and w
e followed him.

He stood by the hole and studied its contents.
“Uh huh. Yeah, these are bones all right.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a cell phone and called someone.

I watched and listened, thinking how calm he sounded. Of course, chances that a killer might be
close were slim to none, and it did look like the bones had been in the ground for a long time. And, of course, the person in the hole could have died of natural causes.

“Yes, sir, they found a body. You want to send out Doc Holland?” Officer
Stubbin listened intently for a moment. “No, sir, it’s been here for a while. Could be a good long time, from the looks of it.” He paused again.

Creak, bang!

I heard the screen door open and close, and turned to see my son heading our way with the dogs following. The dogs saw the copper and came bounding over.

Stubbin
glanced at my husband and pointed toward the dogs.

“They’re friendly,” Chris said.
Turning to the dogs, he told them to
sit
and
stay
. They obeyed, although they didn’t look too willing. There was a new person on the property and they wanted to explore him. Sherlock’s behind didn’t quite touch the ground. One word and he’d be all over the flatfoot.

“Yes, sir, I’ll watch for Doc. See you in a
while.” Officer Stubbin replaced the cell phone in his pocket and looked at Chris. “Doc is eating his lunch and he should be here in about forty-five minutes, along with Chief of Police Stubbin.”

Chris raised his eyebrows.

“The chief is my great-uncle,” Stubbin said, shrugging and appearing almost apologetic. “We’re a small police department.”

I knew we were out in the country, but apparently we were waaaay out in the country. I guessed nepotism didn’t matter this far out.

Stubbin turned to Mikey. “What made you decide to dig here?”

Mikey thought for a moment. “It seemed like I should bury the bird some
place where it would be shady all the time. Was that okay?”

The copper reached over and ruffled Mikey’s hair. “Sure, son, that was a good idea.”

Sherlock and Watson suddenly become more watchful. Someone had touched their young charge, and they took protecting Mikey very seriously.

Mikey smiled and the dogs seemed to relax.

“Why did you dig so deep?” Stubbin asked.

“I don’t know. I just did.” Mikey held his hands out, palms up, obviously hoping for understanding.

I glanced at Officer Stubbin. “How about a Meet and Greet?” I asked. The dogs needed to inspect the copper so they’d settle down.

“Sure. I love dogs. I’ve got a German Shepherd puppy at home.”

“Sherlock. Watson. Come.” I patted my chest which was an invitation to approach us.

The
flatfoot held out his hand for the dogs to sniff, which they did without reservation. Labrador Retrievers are friendly dogs and love to socialize. Meeting Stubbin was no exception. Next came the pant legs, where they probably smelled the puppy. They were entranced and I had to call them twice to get them to leave Stubbin alone.

“Would you like to wait in the house?” I asked.

“No, thank you, ma’am. I’ll stay here, by the body. You go on inside if you want to.”

“The stiff ain’t gonna hit the bricks,” Chris said. “You might as well come in for a cuppa Joe.”

“Huh?” Yes, indeed, Stubbin was young and had no idea what Chris was talking about. He probably didn’t even know who Humphrey Bogart was.

“Well, I think I’ll go inside for a
bit,” I said, turning and heading for the house.

Chris and Mikey stayed outside with
Stubbin. I watched them from the window for a moment before remembering my book was still outside. Listening to the creak of the screen door on my way back outside, I thought of the television show
The Waltons
, and decided the creak was rather a comforting sound, like a ticking clock in the still of the night. I even enjoyed the sound of the
bang
when the door closed.

Sitting in the yard,
I read for a while, and when I looked up I saw Stubbin kneeling next to the hole in the ground. He turned his head and looked up at Mikey, appearing to ask a question.

Mikey slapped his forehead and turned to run toward the house.

“What’s up, kiddo?” I asked.

“I forgot about the leather bag I found in the hole. The copper said it looked like something used to be in the hole with the dead guy, so I’m goin’ to get it for him.”

I’d forgotten about the leather pouch, too. I wondered what was in it. Walking to the hole, I waited with Stubbin and Chris for Mikey’s return.

Chapter Three

We didn’t have to wait long. Mikey ran all the way to the house, grabbed the pouch and ran back to us. He was out of breath by the time he handed it to Officer Stubbin. “Here it is.”

Opening the pouch,
Stubbin studied the contents before glancing at us and then back into the leather bag. “Well, I’ll be darned.”

“What is it?” M
ikey asked.

“Yeah, what is it?” Chris
tried to look past the flatfoot, into the pouch, making me feel like I had
two
young sons.

Stubbin walked to the barbeque table and waited for us to follow before he opened the bag and emptied the contents.

First out of the bag was a smaller leather pouch, which he set aside. He dumped the rest of the items on the table and stood back.

“Holy smoke,” Mikey said, awe in his voice.

“Do you know what that is?” the flatfoot asked Mikey.

“Holy smoke,” he said again.

“I’d have to guess he understands what it is,” Chris said, picking up a gold coin. He glanced at Stubbin belatedly, as though remembering he should have asked for permission to handle the evidence, or whatever this was.

Stubbin nodded and picked up one of the coins. “Yeah, there’s no mistakin’ a table full of gold.”

“May I?” I asked, reaching for another one.

Stubbin nodded again, but didn’t speak.

Picking up a coin, I managed to knock over the pile, and underneath were gold nuggets. I couldn’t have rolled my eyes if I wanted to because I couldn’t take my eyes off the pile. These were sizeable nuggets, not little dinky pebbles. “Oh, my!”

Watson
tried to see what we were so interested in. She sniffed so hard it sounded like she had a sinus problem.

“No,” I said, pushing
her and her twitching nose away from the table. “Go lie down.”

She backed up, but not very far. She knew we were interested in something she’d never seen before, but she couldn’t figure out what it was.

Another car pulled up to the house after moving up the long dirt driveway. The driveway was lined with Cottonwood trees. I tore my gaze away from the gold long enough to take note of a taller, older and much heavier version of Officer Stubbin climbing out of a police car. A van pulled in behind the cruiser and someone I assumed to be Doc climbed down. The police chief joined us at the table while the other man opened the rear doors of the van and seemed to search for something.

“What’ve you got here, Jimmy?” The police chief let his hand rest on Officer Stubbin’s shoulder
, although his tone of voice sounded irritated. Maybe the young copper should have waited for his uncle before opening the pouch.

I noticed the chief smelled like cigar smoke.
Looking closer, I saw a fresh stogy sticking out of his shirt pocket.

“These were buried with the body, Uncle Roy. What do you make of it?”

Instead of answering the question, he posed one of his own, sounding angry. “Where’s the body?”

“It’s under that oak tree,” he said, pointing.
Jimmy, whose first name seemed to suit him better than his title of Officer Stubbin, began picking up the gold and putting it back in the pouch. He bent over and searched under the table, apparently making sure none of the gold had fallen on the ground.

“Uh huh. Well, let’s have us a look.”
The Chief glanced at the pouch. “I have a suspicion I just might know who’s buried in that hole.”

The man from the van had joined us by then and introduced himself
, holding out his hand. “I’m Richard Holland. Most people call me Doc.” I guessed he was probably in his late sixties or early seventies, and instead of a doctor he resembled a Mafia boss. A big man with a head of thick white hair, he didn’t look like someone you’d want to cross. Fortunately, he sounded friendly and he had a wide, friendly smile.

“He’s the local doctor and coroner,” Jimmy explained.

“I understand you folks found a body buried around here. Is that right?”

“Yes, it is.”
Chris stepped forward and shook his hand before turning a very pointed look in the chief’s direction.

The man cleared his throat
, realizing he hadn’t formally introduced himself. “Police Chief Roy Stubbin. Let’s take a look at the body.” He turned and walked toward the oak tree. Chris walked with him.

“What’s in th
e little bag?” Mikey asked, tugging on Jimmy’s sleeve. He pointed at the small leather pouch Jimmy had pulled out of the bigger bag.

“Let’s wait and let my uncle take a look at it.”
He looked uncomfortable. Maybe I’d been right about thinking he should have waited for his uncle’s arrival before opening the bag of gold.

“Excuse me,” Doc said, heading for the oak tree.
“Looks like I’ve got some work to do.”

Glancing back over his shoulder, the chief yelled, “
Jimmy, lock that bag up in the trunk of your cruiser
.”

Jimmy nodded and picked up the pouch, carrying it to his police car and locking it
in the trunk before joining the three men by the oak tree.

I watched the
four men study the hole and its contents. Doc motioned the others to move back and he dropped to one knee, pulling a camera out of his pocket.

Sherlock made a beeline for the doctor before I could stop him. “
Chris
,” I called, “
here comes Sherlock
.” I chased after the dog, stopping just behind the men.

Chris
turned, but he was too late. Sherlock knocked Doc over on his side.

Chief Stubbin scowled and took a step forward, but Doc
rolled onto his back and laughed, looking up at Sherlock. He held his hand up to stop the chief and said something I couldn’t hear before reaching up and scratching the dog’s nose. Pulling himself up, he retrieved his camera and leaned over the hole to snap some pictures. Sherlock began licking the doctor’s hair.

Roy Stubbin s
tepped forward and carefully kneeled down next to Doc. It looked like it took quite an effort.

Sherlock immediately ran to Stubbin’s side and began licking his hair. Lacking the sense of humor Doc possessed, Stubbin swung an arm toward Sherlock. “Get away from me, you mangy dog.”

“Sorry, Sherlock has a thing about hair. I don’t get it, but he loves licking hair.” I stepped forward.

Chris grabbed Sherlock’s collar and pulled him away.
His jaws were clenched and I knew he was biting back a comment that could get him in trouble.

I took the collar from Chris, dug in my heels and held on to Sherlock. In the meantime, Watson strolled over, gave Sherlock one of her you’re-an-idiot looks and settled herself on the other side of the hole.

“Damn dogs,” Roy said.

Doc looked up
, looking annoyed. “What’s gotten into you today, Roy? Get out of the wrong side of the bed?”

“Never you mind. Just do your job. Are you done taking pictures yet?”

Doc nodded. “Yes. Let’s start digging.”

The chief turned toward Jimmy. “Go
find the shovel and let’s get to work.”

“Yes, sir.” Jimmy headed for Doc’s van and opened the rear doors – apparently they kept the shovels in the back – and returned with two spades.
He handed one to the chief, who grunted, and they began to enlarge the hole in the ground.

They’d worked carefully for about ten minutes when the chief
stopped and took a staggering step backwards. Grabbing his chest, he fell to his knees.

Doc was at his side before anyone else could react. “I should have seen this coming.
I knew his moodiness didn’t feel right.”

Jimmy ran to
the chief’s side. “Uncle Roy?”

The chief
didn’t respond and Doc started CPR, with Jimmy’s help. It didn’t look like the old man was breathing. His skin looked gray and he was perspiring heavily.

I pulled the cell phone out of my pocket and handed it to Chris. He called 9-1-1 and asked for them to send EMTs. “You might tell them to hurry. It looks like Chief Stubbin has had a heart attack.”
He gave them the address and added, “It’s the old Perry farmhouse.”

Mikey stood in front of me, watching Doc and Jimmy. “Mom? Is he going to be okay?”

“I don’t know son. I hope so.”

“Another awkward moment,” Chris said. “I may never take another vacation as long as I live.” He stepped forward and tried to help Doc and Jimmy.

Roy began to breathe, but it was labored.

I prayed for him while I watched Doc administer medical treatment.

“Roy, you old buzzard, keep breathing. Don’t let go.” Doc briefly glanced skyward, maybe saying his own prayer.