Рита Браун - Homeward Hound

“Sure.”

Within minutes they parked at the Carriage House close to the restored stables, with still untouched stables behind the Carriage House that housed the driving horses.

The two peeked past the huge door.

“Let’s go inside.” Yvonne struggled with the door but she got it and the two slipped in. “You’d think there’d be security or something here, so much is going on.”

“Most of it up at the house and what is there to steal? Once Crawford has this place up and running, I’m sure there will be security, which I must say is so out of place at Chapel Cross.”

They both inhaled the odor of the fresh wood, for the lumber was piled up for future work, as they walked down the extra-wide aisle, peeking into the special parking places for carriages. That’s the only word they could think of, parking places.

“He’ll buy a Brewster Carriage, I’m telling you.” Aunt Daniella stopped to admire an old photograph still hanging on the wall.

“What?”

“The Rolls-Royce of American coaches. Crawford will have to have one and he’ll pay hundreds of thousands of dollars for it, too.” She looked up at Yvonne, slightly taller than herself. “Every activity has its vertical scale. And let me tell you, coaching is expensive.” She walked toward the middle of the expansive place. “The tack room door is slightly ajar.” She pushed it open. “Yvonne!”

Yvonne hurried up right behind her. “Aunt Dan, this scares me. It really does.”

The two women stepped back into the huge aisle and Yvonne called the sheriff’s department. “Hello, may I speak to Sheriff Ben Sidell? This is Yvonne Harris. I am at Old Paradise and there is another body part.”

She was patched through in a second.

“Ben, I’m in the Carriage House with Aunt Daniella. We’ve found the other hand or what’s left of it.”

CHAPTER 29

“When was the last time you were in the Carriage House?” Ben Sidell asked Crawford Howard, who had freely agreed to come down alone to the sheriff’s office.

“Wednesday, January thirty-first, yesterday.”

“Was anyone with you?”

“No. I try to check on work progress at least every other day at Old Paradise. I’d been up at the house so I checked on the Carriage House to see if they’d gotten started.”

“What is it you intend to do in that building?”

“Repair and refurbish all the stalls, if you will, for carriages. Like garage bays, roof’s good. Flooring is good because the roof held. Anyway, the bays had been scrubbed out. The lumber was still stacked in the center of the aisle. A start.”

“Did you go into the tack room?”

“No.”

“Nothing seemed out of place?”

“Well, there’s nothing in there to be out of place.” Crawford controlled himself, although he thought the questions irritating.

“No odor. Decay odor?”

“No.”

“You were alone in the Carriage House?”

“I was. The foreman stayed at the big house. Charlotte was outside measuring grave sites. As you know, we found one containing, so far, two hundred graves. No markers. But no one came with me.”

“And were you also in the Carriage House during Christmas Hunt?”

“I’d driven down with Rory to check the lumber that had been delivered the day before. Wasn’t there long.”

“When you drove out, you saw the field?”

“You’ve asked me this before. After Gregory Luckham disappeared. After Rory was found.”

Ben calmly agreed. “Yes, but I am asking you again.”

“Couldn’t see a thing. The storm obliterated everything but both Rory and I heard the horn.”

“You saw nothing?”

“No.”

“How did you hear the horn?”

“As I told you, I put the window down slightly. Could hear the horn.”

“I thank you for coming down here so promptly. I expected you would have your lawyer with you.”

Crawford shrugged. “If I’m charged with anything or I’m a so-called person of interest, I will. But I came alone. I have nothing to hide. I find this shocking. You said the hand had been torn apart. Bones more than anything but remnants of a cotton glove were on those bones, in tatters. That’s why I came down. At Farmington Country Club, at Ronnie’s dinner, I noticed Gregory’s left hand was in a thin white cotton glove. It wasn’t a subject of discussion and I didn’t ask. My assumption was he had injured it, wanted to cover the injury.” Crawford shrugged again. “You’ll test those remains, if you can call a hand remains. That will be Gregory Luckham’s hand.”

“We found the other hand. Actually a hound did. Both these hands are on the west side of the Chapel Crossroads road. We’ve gone over the quadrants from where the first hand was found. Nothing. So this is important. He’s out there somewhere.”

“I expect.” Crawford agreed.

“I’ll be back with the cadaver dogs tomorrow.”

“Good,” Crawford tersely replied.

“You had good reason to kill Gregory Luckham.”

Crawford leaned forward. “Sheriff, a lot of people wanted him dead. Do you think I would be stupid enough to kill him when I can fight by other means and I have? Thank God for ground-penetrating radar.”

“Yes,” Ben simply said.

“Look, I don’t care about Gregory Luckham. He’s dead. I had nothing to do with it. I do care about Rory. He was a good hand. Why he was killed makes no sense. Luckham. Makes a lot of sense. People are outraged about the pipeline.”

After Crawford left, Ben knew he would be on the phone with his lawyer. Ben didn’t have enough to arrest him but he knew that Crawford could make his life miserable, just as he could impact Crawford’s. Not that he was in the business of revenge. He was in the business of solving crimes, upholding the law.

—

Bourbon in hand, Aunt Daniella glumly sat surrounded by Gray, Sister, Sam, and Yvonne. Both women described how they had found the hand.

“That’s what I get for being nosy.” Aunt Daniella sighed.

“Something like your experience is beyond the norm. Who would have thought of dismembered hands? The other hand was found miles down the road, as you know, but in the general vicinity. You would think the body would be down there somewhere but nothing else, nothing.” Sam consoled his aunt.

“Aren’t there political careers at stake over this pipeline?” Yvonne asked a sensible question. “If it were Illinois, it would be on the news every night. The public would know what state elected officials were for it, those against.”

Gray had a scotch in hand, for he, too, wished for something soothing. “We do know, Yvonne, but apart from this being the most contentious issue in the state, people are riveted by Washington, right now. They might stay on the pipeline for a week or two. People were aroused when a federal judge threatened to sue Red Terry and her daughter a thousand dollars a day if they didn’t come down from their tree stand protesting the pipeline. Two non-rich women, a mother and daughter, a thousand dollars a day by a federal judge. Officials hide behind the law obviously, which is what Soliden is counting on. People were outraged.”

“But they are more outraged by the president is what you’re saying?” Aunt Daniella understood politics as only an old person can. “Let’s assume the big company rolls over property rights. What’s left of that cuts down trees, imperils public lands, endangered species. Soliden has filled politicians’ pockets for decades. I remember those decades. What happens when a major disaster occurs, and it will? I promise you, it will. It might not be a blown pipe. What about mud slides from disturbed earth? Soliden has to go over the Blue Ridge. Everyone will pretend to be shocked by the disaster.”