The Corpse at the End of the Chapter Read online

  Wendy Barnes told the sheriff that Doctor Lafferty was up at The Pond fishing, so the sheriff called Louise and relayed the news to her. She was somewhat emotional on the phone, but said she would to try to contact her husband, although phone reception up there was generally non-existent. Louise asked if she should come to the bookstore, but the sheriff said no, it was probably best that she didn’t. He told her an ambulance was on the way and the body would be taken to the Medical Examiner’s office in Pleasant View

  Harve got out his cell phone and took a few pictures of Old Mrs. Lafferty’s body and the surrounding area. “I’m not exactly sure of the protocol for this,” he said, “but on TV cop shows they always take pictures.”

  The deputy came in and made everyone gather in the children’s end of the store. “Don’t leave,” he ordered. “We’ll need to talk to everyone.” The deputy was Tobias Belt. He was 72 years old—a little old to still be in law enforcement, but nobody else wanted the job. You see, Toby was just a volunteer, because the county couldn’t afford to give Sheriff Blodgett a deputy in a town as small as Misty Valley. Even though Misty Valley was the county seat, it was no bigger than the surrounding towns. All the towns in the county were small. And while a couple of the other towns had a deputy in residence, such as Fran Nielsen in Pleasant View, there wasn’t enough crime to warrant a deputy to serve along with the sheriff in Misty Valley. Toby had learned how to use the computer from his grandson, so he was a valuable asset to Harve Blodgett, even at 72. And Toby loved his job, in spite of the fact he was not paid.

  “Keeps me out of mischief,” he was fond of saying, with a wink. . Toby was also a big fan of TV cop shows and knew just what to do, even if this was the first murder Misty Valley had seen in a long time.

  Billy and his mother were both sobbing quite loudly and Missy, the little girl Billy had been tormenting, was still crying, although softly. Her mother was trying to comfort her. But no one could really be comforted. Everyone was stunned and seemed totally frightened. (Missy, of course, was crying because Billy had taken the book from her, not because of the murder.) Was one of Copper’s customers a murderer? This was a small town. Everyone knew one another. Could someone they knew have actually done such a thing?

  Copper filled Styrofoam cups with coffee and passed them around. Her customers accepted them gratefully. Monica passed around what was left of the hors d’oeuvres, but no one was hungry.

  The sheriff and his deputy secured the crime scene as well as they could, stretching yellow crime-scene tape across the entire book section and put what evidence they could find–not much more than just the knife and some of the blood–into baggies.

  “I say, Sheriff, how long are you going to keep us here?” asked Reverend Burt Taylor, the Methodist minister. This was the same Methodist minister whose daughter had run off with Marian Fisher’s first husband.

  “We just need to get everyone’s statement,” the sheriff said. “Then you can all go home–but do not leave town.” Not that anyone was likely to.

  Toby whipped out his trusty iPad (a gift from his son and daughter-in-law for Christmas last year) and got ready to take everyone’s statements.

  “Well, I’d like to be first,” the Reverend Taylor said. “I was in the middle of preparing my sermon for Sunday when I decided to pop in to wish Ms. Penny good luck on the opening of her bookstore. I really need to get back”

  “All in good time, Reverend,” Harve said. “I want to talk with the mothers of the children first, so they can leave. I think it would be best to get the children away from the crime scene as soon as possible. I’m sure you understand.”

  The good reverend hmmphed a bit, but made no further protest.

  “Lucy, you found the body. Let’s talk to you first.”

  Harve led Lucy Stafford, along with Billy, over to the Relax and Read area and sat them down on the comfortable sofa.

  “Now Lucy,” Harve began as Toby started typing away on his iPad, “please explain what happened as you experienced it.”

  “Well, it was just awful,” Lucy said, her voice trembling. “Billy had come running back to me with a book he wanted me to read to him. I was just browsing the shelves, looking for a paper-back romance I could buy. I don’t buy a lot of books, mind you. I usually check them out of the library. But lately the library seems to be getting in fewer and fewer new books, especially in the romance category. I think Old Mrs. Lafferty”—here she started to choke up—“didn’t like romance novels, so she refused to order new ones.” She sniffled and reached in her handbag for a tissue.

  “Then...” the sheriff prodded.

  “Then I came to the end of the row and there she was, just lying there. And I screamed. That’s it.”

  “That’s it? You didn’t see anybody else there, maybe just before you got to the end of the row?”

  “No. I mean there were others browsing the shelves, but I didn’t see anyone right by Old Mrs. Lafferty.”

  “Okay, Lucy. You and Billy can go. Just drop by the station later today after Toby gets the statements printed out and you can sign yours.”

  Lucy nodded and she and Billy got up to leave. Copper noticed that Billy still had the book from the children’s area, but she didn’t say anything. Lucy would no doubt bring it back in a few days.

  “Vivian, you’re next,” the sheriff called out.

  Vivian Belt was married to Toby’s grandson, Jim, the same grandson who had taught Toby how to use the computer. She was also the mother of Missy, who was still crying–and confused as to what was going on.

  “Don’t worry, Vivian,” Toby said, patting her on the shoulder. “It’ll be okay.” He smiled and she smiled back and nodded, taking a seat on the sofa, Missy beside her.

  “What can you tell us about the events of today?” Harve asked her.

  “Nothing, really,” Vivian said. “I was sitting down, right here, actually, drinking a cup of Copper’s excellent coffee, munching on some of those delicious pastries and talking to Carol Roberts, when Missy and Billy got into their little squabble and I ran over to the children’s section. I hadn’t looked at any books. And I didn’t even know Old Mrs. Lafferty was here.”

  “You didn’t see anyone looking suspicious?”

  “Suspicious? No, of course not. I know everyone here–we all know everyone here. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone in this town look suspicious.”

  Harve nodded. Of course you never think your friends and neighbors look suspicious. He gave her the standard speech about how if she thought of something to please contact him and dismissed her. Toby reminded her to stop by the sheriff’s office later to sign her statement.

  “So is it my turn now, Sheriff?” Reverend Taylor asked.

  “Sure, Reverend, why not?”

  Reverend Taylor sat on the sofa and didn’t even wait for Sheriff Blodgett to begin his questioning. “I came in this morning just to show support for Ms. Penny,” the Reverend said. “She is, after all, one of my parishioners. I came in, someone—I don’t remember who—offered me a cup of coffee, I filled a plate with a few of the appetizer items and ate them while conversing with a few other people who were here. That’s it.”

  “Did you go down the book aisles?

  “I did not. I primarily read religious texts and I don’t believe Ms. Penny carries those, although she did tell me she would be willing to order any titles I wanted. I have been purchasing online through Amazon. Mrs. Lafferty doesn’t...didn’t carry the titles I wanted at the library, either. I made numerous requests, but she said she couldn’t use her limited library budget for books only one person would read. She was a cantankerous old woman, actually. And not a member of my congregation.”

  “So you didn’t see anything unusual prior to the discovery of Mrs. Lafferty’s body?”

  “No,” Taylor said.

  “All right, Reverend, you can go.”

  The door to the bookstore opened and in sauntered the most gorgeous male specimen Misty Valley had ever produ
ced. Trevor Hodges was twenty-two years old, six foot two, broad-shouldered and slim-hipped, with dark hair that curled down a little past his collar, smoldering cobalt eyes and a sultry mouth that even women old enough to be his mother thought kissable. He wore a form- fitting black turtle neck, skinny jeans, Harley boots, and a chain- embellished leather jacket. The beginnings of a tattoo showed on the back of his left hand, disappearing into the sleeve of his jacket.

  “Yo, Monica, I thought we were meeting for lunch today,” he hollered. He looked around. He saw the crime-scene tape cordon- ing off the book shelf area, the people huddled together in the children’s section, and the sheriff and his deputy sitting in the Relax and Read area, along with the Reverend Taylor.

  He saw Monica and Copper at the back and asked, “What’s going on?”

  Monica rushed up to him and Reverend Taylor slipped around behind her and exited the shop. “Oh, Trev, it’s just awful. Old Mrs. Lafferty’s dead.”

  “Old lady Lafferty dead? Well, that’s not much loss.”

  Monica’s jaw dropped in shock “Trevor, she was murdered!”

  Trevor was silent for a moment. “Oh… Well, that’s different,” he said. “It’s too bad. But not surprising.”

  Sheriff Blodgett approached Trevor. “Why do you say that, young man?” he asked.

  “Come on, Sheriff, you know no one liked the old biddy. I’m just surprised no one has done her in before now.”

  The Sheriff looked at him curiously, nodding him towards the Relax and Read area. “Sit down, if you will, Mr. Hodges, and explain yourself, please.”

  Trevor sat. He squirmed a bit. He looked at Monica, he looked at Copper, he looked at the customers, he looked at the sheriff. He cleared his throat, ran his hand through his hair.

  “Well, young man?” the sheriff said.

  Trevor shrugged. “It’s common knowledge,” he said. “She was obnoxious, she was vicious, she was as mean as they come. She ruled that library like a tyrant, like she owned the place. Every time you checked a book out, she looked at you like she just knew you weren’t going to bring it back. And you had to show your I.D. Not just your library card, but your I.D. Like she didn’t know who you were. I mean, I’ve lived here all my life, except for a couple of months I spent in Portland. How could she not know who I am? Everyone hated her. Everyone. I doubt there’s a single person in this town that’s sorry she’s dead—well, maybe the doc and his wife, but you know what I mean. Pretty much everyone here had some reason to kill her. You won’t have to look far for your killer, Sheriff. He or she is right here in this shop.” He looked around, making eye contact with everyone still in the store who had the courage to look back. “Right in this shop,” he repeated.

  THREE

  THERE WAS A STUNNED SILENCE IN THE BOOKSTORE. Trevor looked around again, willing the others present to agree with him.

  “Could we get on with the taking of statements?” interjected Marian Fisher. “This young man wasn’t even here when Old Mrs. Lafferty was...killed.”

  Sheriff Blodgett nodded. “You’re right, of course, Mrs. Fisher,” he said. “But what Trevor Hodges has to say gives us somewhat of a motive.”

  “Motive, indeed,” said an elderly woman standing just slightly behind Marian, a slight, frail-looking woman with a kind smile. It was Carol Roberts, the woman who had fainted, and that Vivian Belt had been talking to earlier. Since Wendy and Marian had revived her from her faint and helped her to the Relax and Read section, she had moved to the children’s ara , where, she had been sitting on the table, crying quietly.. “Agnes Lafferty was my best friend, although I am aware that there were those who didn’t like her. There are a number of people I don’t particularly like, but I’m not going to go around killing them. That’s just not what folks do nowadays. Not decent folk, anyway.”

  Sheriff Blodgett knew that Trevor Hodges was right. Nobody had left the shop since the body had been discovered, at least no one noticed anyone leaving (except, of course, for those the sheriff had already spoken to), so the killer had to still be there. But even if no one really liked Old Mrs. Lafferty (and the Sheriff admitted that she wasn’t the nicest person in town), who hated her enough to kill her?

  “And it certainly isn’t common knowledge to me that no one liked her,” said Copper. “I had no problem with her.”

  “Nor did I,” echoed the Sheriff. “I have no problem with anyone as long as they abide by the law. And as far as I know, Agatha Lafferty was a law-abiding woman, nice or not. Well, let’s continue with our questioning.”

  “May I be next, please,” asked Marian. “I have to go pick up my children at school.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Fisher.”

  Marian reported that she had been in the mystery aisle, looking for the new Aaron Anderson when she heard Lucy scream. She had not yet reached the end of the aisle, so did not even know Old Mrs. Lafferty was in the store.

  Carol Roberts said she hadn’t really looked at any books, had just been drinking coffee, eating bacon-wrapped shrimp (“just the smell of bacon gets me salivating,” she admitted) and talking to Vivian. She couldn’t have said who else was in the store, as she wasn’t paying that much attention. She might come back some day to shop, but she was much too upset today.

  The sheriff let the women go and went on to the next customer, one of the few men who had come to Copper’s opening. Lars Olson was the town’s attorney. He was the person everyone went to to file their wills, to settle disputes, to fight their parking tickets, and to represent them in any court matters, which were few and far between. Lars was in his late thirties, single and thought himself to be better looking than he actually was. No single woman within at least a fifty-mile radius, maybe even more, could escape his ego.

  “I really don’t know what I can tell you, Harve,” he said in his clipped, pseudo-British speech. “I was in the non-fiction section, over on the far wall. I saw nothing and heard nothing until Mrs. Stafford screamed.”

  “Come on, Lars, you must have seen something. Were you the only person in the non-fiction aisle?”

  “Yes, Harve, I believe I was. Most of the people here appear to be those in search of escapist fiction. Very few seem to be interested in serious reading.”

  “That’s not exactly true, Mr. Olson,” remarked Copper, who was walking by and couldn’t help but hear what the attorney had said. “Wendy Barnes was also in the non-fiction aisle. Wendy actually bought two books–a new biography of Benjamin Franklin and an astronomy book called The Beginner’s Guide to the Heavens.”

  “I wonder who she’s going to be looking at the stars with,” said Lars somewhat bitterly. Apparently, Wendy was one single woman who had not been moved by the charms of the attorney. “I’m sorry, Harve. I was so engrossed in the books I was perusing that I did not notice Ms. Barnes at all.”

  Harve questioned Wendy next. She had noticed Lars and had kept as far away from him as possible, even though they were in the same aisle. She had conversed briefly in library whispers with Marcia Cabot, who also seemed to prefer serious reading to the escapist fiction Lars seemed eager to assign to Copper’s customers other than himself. But she had been unaware of the existence of Old Mrs. Lafferty’s body until Lucy screamed.

  Wendy Barnes was a nurse who worked for Dr. Brandon Lafferty, son of Old Mrs. Lafferty (and her late husband, Dr. Sheldon Lafferty) and husband of Young Mrs. Lafferty (Louise). Copper had actually been somewhat surprised to see Wendy, thinking she would have been at the clinic with Dr. Lafferty. But the nurse said Friday was usually a half day anyway, and Dr. Lafferty did not have any scheduled appointments for the morning, so decided to go fishing. He told her rainy weather was the best time for the fish to bite.

  Rumor had it that Wendy and Dr. Lafferty were having an affair, but in a town as small as Misty Valley, one had to gossip about something. Although it would not have been hard to believe it of Brandon Lafferty, the truth was, Copper knew, Wendy was seriously dating Ryan Lowe, the driver of the ambulance that was
now on its way to Misty Valley. He was saving money to go to medical school and they hoped to become officially engaged at Christmas.

  Marcia Cabot had also noticed Lars and had actually bumped into him while passing him in the non-fiction aisle. She had even said, “Excuse me,” but he had ignored her. Marcia was the owner/manager of the Cabot Lodge, a small motel/café—the only motel/café—in town. Actually, it wasn’t really the only café, if you counted the Rainy Day Bar and Grill, which did offer food, generally of the high-fat, high-cholesterol variety, but whose customers primarily came in for alcohol. Marcia’s parents had built the lodge, then left it to their spinster daughter when they died. Marcia, at fifty, was glad to be too old to be on Lars Olson’s list of potential conquests. She, too, denied seeing Old Mrs. Lafferty at all.

  Sheriff Blodgett was frustrated. The questioning was not going well at all. It seemed the only people who admitted to seeing Old Mrs. Lafferty that day were Copper and Monica. And they were both involved in greeting customers and ringing up sales. There was no way either of them could have snuck down one of the book aisles, stabbed the old woman to death, and snuck back up again without being noticed.

  “Harve,” said Copper, “wouldn’t the killer have blood on him or her? Agatha seems to have bled quite profusely.” Copper was just a little upset that whoever had dispatched the woman had not had the courtesy to do so outside, instead of getting blood all over her new carpeting.