Murder With Peacocks(75)

Needless to say, we did not make it in to Be-Stitched that afternoon. The lawn mower was examined, and the sheriff hauled it away to be examined some more.

"And just think, we still have the foxglove to look forward to," Michael said that evening.





Wednesday, July 13



Nothing improves someone's character in the public mind like dying suddenly and young. The same people who last week criticized Scotty's family for not kicking him out to earn his own living were now remarking what a waste it was and what potential Scotty had. Potential for what they didn't say.

We were treated to another up-close-and-personal look at our local law enforcement officials in action. I was not impressed. If I were still a registered voter in York County, I'd be looking for a new candidate for sheriff come the next election. I'd even vote for Mrs. Fenniman, the only opposition candidate who'd come forward so far.

The state police were a lot more impressive, but either the law or the unwritten code of the old boys network seemed to keep them from getting too involved without the sheriff's consent. And the sheriff definitely wanted to squelch any talk of murder.

"First Mrs. Grover and now Scotty," Mother said, "and that nice Mr. Price, too."

"Mr. Price wasn't killed, Mother," I said.

"It was a near thing. What if there's a murderer among us?"

"I grant you, we've had a run of unfortunate accidents this summer," the sheriff said, cautiously. "But it's a long stretch from there to murder."

"You know, I really do think it most odd of Mrs. Waterston to just go off like that. So suddenly, and right at the beginning of the wedding season," Mother said.

"Mother! She didn't just go off, she broke her leg while visiting her sister and she's staying there till she recuperates," I explained to the sheriff.

"But it was very odd of her to just go off to visit her sister at the last minute and abandon her clients."

"She didn't go off at the last minute; she went off in May."

"Well, that was the last minute for all the June weddings, dear."

"Yes, but anyone with any sense picked out her dress months ago. And she didn't just abandon you. She left Michael to take care of things."

"Yes, he does seem to have taken hold and settled right in."

For a paranoid moment I wondered if Mother was evolving a theory that Michael was the murderer. Perhaps she was about to suggest that Michael's mother was not down in Florida with a broken leg, but dead somewhere. That he planned to worm his way into our confidence, then announce that his dear mother had died of complications, and take over her business. Perhaps he wasn't even her son. And Mrs. Grover and Scotty had been killed and Mr. Price nearly killed because they somehow discovered his secret. For a few moments, I found myself seriously considering Michael as a cold-blooded killer. And rejecting the idea outright.

"Mother," I said, "what on earth are you suggesting?"

"I think," she said, leaning closer to the sheriff and me, "that Mrs. Waterston may have had a Premonition."

"A premonition," the sheriff repeated. "A Premonition of Danger," Mother elaborated.

"Ah," the sheriff said, nodding sagely. I have often wondered if he ever realizes how much being Mother's cousin has contributed to his success as an elected official. After five decades of dealing with Mother, he can listen with a perfectly straight face to almost any inanity uttered by a constituent.

"I don't want to worry your mother," he said to me as I showed him out. "We can't be one hundred percent sure, but there is something real strange about Scotty's death. You keep an eye on your folks, you hear?"

Did the man think I was an idiot? I intended to keep a very close eye on my parents, particularly Dad. Scotty had been killed riding a lawn mower that everyone in the neighborhood knew Dad almost never let anyone else use. Scotty had died, but I would bet anything Dad was the intended victim.

And I remembered the night Scotty had dropped by to apologize to me. He'd said something about seeing something odd. And I'd cut him off. I mentally kicked myself. Scotty had probably seen something that would have solved Mrs. Grover's murder and the other strange incidents. And had been mistakenly killed instead of Dad before he could reveal it.

Then again, what if the murderer had heard Scotty say that and deliberately killed him? Even if the odd thing Scotty saw had nothing to do with the murder, what if the killer's guilty mind jumped to that conclusion? In which case the killer might have been aiming at Scotty after all, and not Dad.

I thought of mentioning it to Dad, but decided not to. Whatever Scotty had seen, it was gone for good now. Reminding Dad that we'd had a chance to hear it and failed would only frustrate him further.