Canal Days Calamity Page 3

  And we’d be adding Mia to the mix. How in the world would I survive the week?

  Good gravy, I was in for it.

  • Three •

  In all the pandemonium of the afternoon, I’d almost forgotten John Bridgemaker and Paul Foxtracker’s BBQ that night at the Metamora Mound Builders’ Association lodge. John was the president of the MMBA, and Paul was the town’s representative at the national level for the Native American Council.

  The lodge was packed from wall to wall. Hank Jenkins from the BBQ Shack set up in the parking lot and the aroma had my mouth watering. Carl Finch provided the side dishes, set up in a buffet beside a cash bar that ran along the back wall of the lodge. Friends and neighbors milled around long tables set up in rows with plastic cups of beer and wine.

  “Welcome, Cam.” John gave me a big hug.

  “I almost didn’t recognize you, John,” I said. He’d traded his usual jeans and leather vest for a pair of tan slacks and white oxford shirt.

  “I almost didn’t recognize me,” he joked. “Thanks for coming, Monica.” He hugged my sister and then took Mom by the hand. “You must be the youngest Cripps sister.”

  Mom batted her eyes demurely. “Aren’t you a charmer?”

  “John Bridgemaker,” I said, “this is my mother—and Monica’s, of course—Angela Cripps.”

  “Honored to make your acquaintance,” John said, and I could swear my mother blushed. He was definitely a good-looking man, but not one I would ever peg for someone who could flush Angela Cripps’s cheeks.

  “If I can have your attention, please,” Paul Foxtracker spoke into a microphone from the front of the room. Everyone fell silent and turned their attention in his direction. “Thank you all for coming tonight. I hope you’re enjoying the food and friends. While we have you all gathered here together, the Metamora Mound Builders’ Association has some exciting news to announce. We’re looking into building a casino right here in town. It’ll generate tourism and bring jobs. The initial stages of this operation require a majority approval by our residents. Now I know you all will have a lot of questions. We welcome all of you to our planning meetings to get answers and engage in discussions. In the meantime, eat, drink, and enjoy!”

  Slowly, the chit-chat in the room reengaged. “A casino?” I asked John, stupefied by the announcement. Our quaint little town the site of a casino? I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

  “Yes,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “We’ve studied the numbers, weighed the benefits, and we’re confident a casino is the right business venture and this is the right time to do it.”

  “Well …” Tongue tied, I couldn’t get my questions in line. They all wanted to rush out at the same time. “Not downtown by the canal, surely?”

  “No, no. We need a lot of land to build. We’re looking at a few properties.” He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Maybe it’s too soon, but I don’t believe you knew Butch Landow, did you?”

  “No. Today was the first I’d ever … uh … come across him.”

  “We were looking into buying his farm. He owed—well, let’s just say, we were making him an offer he couldn’t refuse for too much longer. Unfortunately, today’s tragedy has complicated things somewhat.”

  “You wanted to buy—wait.” My head spun. Arnie Rutherford, the real estate attorney—was he representing John and the association, and not Phillis? “You talked to him about buying his farm and he said no?”

  “Not that it matters now. What a terrible way to go. I can’t say I’m surprised, though. From what I understand, he made a few enemies over the years.”

  “Really?”

  “Hey, John. Nice spread.” Ben came up beside me and shook John’s hand. Mom and Monica had walked off at some point while John and I were speaking. I looked around and found them at the bar with my in-laws, Irene and Stewart, and Mia, who still wore her Soda Pop Shop uniform: a bright pink shirt with a red-and-white striped apron. She turned around and I saw she had a tray laden with fudge. Sue Nelson was in charge of dessert at this shindig. She made the best fudge around.

  “I was just telling Cameron about the casino,” John said, refocusing my attention.

  “That’s right,” I said. “He was telling me where they were hoping to build.” I gave Ben a tap in the back of his leg to let him know something was up.

  “What?” Ben asked, turning to me.

  “What, what?”

  “Why did you hit me in the leg?”

  Oh good gravy. “Accident. Sorry.” You would think after almost five years of marriage, Ben would know me a little bit better by now. “I’m going to go say hello to your parents. John, I’m looking forward to hearing more about the casino.”

  I hustled off before the urge to knock some sense into Ben got too strong to resist and I whacked him with my handbag. Too bad I’d downsized. I’d fill him in later on John’s attempt to buy the Landow farm. In the meantime, I needed to work on spreading honey with the Daughters. Too bad I’ve always found honey hard to spread.

  On my way across the room to the bar, I said a quick prayer that something miraculous might happen to stop me from having to make nice with my mother-in-law. The first thing out of her mouth would be about my delinquent fine, or her taking something else from my house.

  My stomach dropped as I caught sight of my mom hugging Irene, the two laughing like old school pals. I knew Mom was doing it for my benefit, but seeing them all chummy made me wary. The last thing I wanted was a total turn around from Irene and finding myself being inducted into her petty little club as a Hayman ancestor by marriage. I wanted Irene softened up, not all gooey.

  Their gazes landed on me, and both reached out at the same time, still laughing. “Come talk to us,” Mom said, her eyes a little glittery from the wine. “You’ve been so serious since I got here. Let’s relax and enjoy our visit.”

  Did she forget she showed up when a dead man was found behind Dog Diggity?

  She shot me a sly wink, letting me know she was putting on this happy act for Irene.

  “It’s good to see you, dear,” Irene said, taking my hand and pulling me in for an air kiss. “Stewart, order Cameron a glass of wine.”

  My father-in-law gave me a quick smile and turned to the bartender.

  “I hear Canal Days is coming along nicely,” Irene said, beaming at me. Mom had clearly put her under some sort of spell.

  “It is,” I said. “All of our shops are participating and getting ready. We even have a few vendors from Brookville and Connersville setting up tables.”

  “None of the vendors who sell those home party type of products, I hope,” she said. “If I wanted wax candle melts, I’d buy the handmade version from Ike’s. They’re much better quality. Everything made here in town is.”

  Ike’s Candle Company was one of the oldest shops in Metamora. He took it over from his father, who took it over from his, and so on. Unfortunately for Irene, Ike was the last male in his line and there were no females left in the Daughters, either. It was rather sad to think about the town’s family tree losing a limb.

  “Only our small independent businesses and crafters have tables,” I said, easing her mind, although I happened to buy my handbag from one of those parties. Cass hosted it at her inn for a friend of hers.

  Stewart handed me a glass of white wine. I took a sip, knowing if I finished even one glass I’d have a headache. Red wine was the way to go if you wanted to avoid headaches. Unfortunately, my taste buds abhorred most red wine.

  Mom pulled Monica into our little huddle. “Guess who’s giving the Daughter’s of Metamora free samples for their dogs?” Mom trilled.

  “Who better to get feedback from than the women in town?” Monica said, her smile twitching at the corners.

  Mom’s helping hand might just stick Monica and I permanently under Irene’s thumb. “That’s great. Very nice of yo
u,” I said.

  “If only you planned to sell cat goodies,” Irene said. “Most of us are cat people, you know. We like a more dignified animal in our homes.”

  “Right,” Monica said, nodding, her stiff smile fading a bit. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  I had nothing against cats. I let one in my house on a regular basis. Although I couldn’t keep him out if I wanted to, and I wasn’t sure Spook actually qualified as a normal cat. But dogs could be dignified, too. Not my dogs, but someone’s dogs, I was sure. Like that man we’d seen walking his down the street earlier today. That was a dignified dog. At least from a distance.

  “And speaking of generous,” Irene said. “Your darling mother has offered to pay the fine for your house. It still needs repainted, mind you, but your debt will be up-to-date.”

  “Right,” I said. Then figured I’d better look like this was news to me. “Great! Thanks, Mom.” I leaned in to give Mom a hug, but was stopped by the bewildered expression on her face as she looked over my shoulder out into the room.

  “What’s going on?” She asked.

  Then a woman started screaming.

  I turned to see the commotion in the front of the room travel to the center, following the wake of an older woman with short silver hair wearing a long, flowing black dress. “John Bridgemaker killed my husband!” she shouted.

  “Oh no,” Irene said. “That’s Phillis Landow.”

  Fiona Stein rushed up to her cousin’s side and took her arm, trying to calm her. Phillis shook her off. “I will not be silenced! That man”—she pointed to John—“murdered Butch!”

  Ben hustled up to her, raising his hands like he was warding off any more outbursts. “Mrs. Landow, let’s go outside and I’ll take your statement.”

  “I just gave you my statement! John Bridgemaker shot Butch in the back! Write that down!”

  “I’ll need more than that if you want to make it official.”

  Phillis lifted her chin and took a deep breath, puffing out her chest. “Fine. I’ll make an official statement, and that man”—she pointed to John again—“better end up behind bars for life!”

  Ben took her arm and hooked it through his, escorting her back to the front of the room and out the doors.

  “What a scene!” Mom said, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

  “I thought they were divorced?” I asked Irene.

  “They are. Have been for three years. She’s never accepted it, poor thing.”

  Mia, totally unfazed, stuck her tray out between us. “Fudge?”

  I wanted to be annoyed by her lack of sensitivity, but really, who didn’t want fudge at a time like this? “Thanks,” I said, taking a piece of chocolate with walnuts.

  “Stress eating,” Mia said, shaking her head. “Gets you every time.”

  She walked away before I could threaten to ground her.

  “She’s right,” Irene said, wagging her finger. “Women who have weight problems often eat when they’re stressed.”

  Monica found my hand and squeezed it, silently reminding me that we didn’t need another dead person in town. Today was not the day to strangle my mother-in-law.

  Then Cass rushed up to me, frazzled. Another suspect could take the focus off of Andy. Maybe the outburst was good news after all.

  “Have you heard anything?” I asked, trying to angle my body to block out Irene. The last thing I needed was for her to eavesdrop on our conversation.

  “He just called, finally,” she said, cradling her cell phone in both hands. “They aren’t releasing him until bond can be set on Monday.”

  “Monday? You’re kidding me. That’s crazy.”

  “He told me how to zoom in on the tape, Cam. We have to find out who was in the tree line this morning at Landow’s when Andy was filming.”

  I looked around. Phillis’s display had effectively killed the party. “Well, this BBQ is dead. Let’s go.”

  “We’re leaving?” Mom said, looking stricken. “But we haven’t even eaten yet, and I’ve been having such a nice time catching up with your in-laws.”

  “Stay,” Irene said. “Unless Ben comes back, we’ll be dropping Mia off, so it’s no problem taking you along as well.”

  “What a lovely idea,” Mom said. “It’s so rare to have another like-minded woman to chat with.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Monica said to me, recoiling.

  “Good, because you drove.”

  Irene stepped forward and took me by both arms. “I’ll stop by this week and visit. I want to make sure those dogs aren’t tearing up Ellsworth house.”

  My mind flashed to the bottom of the newel post that had been gnawed by Liam. His tiny teeth were razor sharp. I’d have to get Andy to—oh good gravy. Andy couldn’t fix anything from jail.

  Time to find a new handyman, and fast!

  • Four •

  Holy cow, is that really him?” I couldn’t believe my eyes. Like earlier, Cass and I sat on the floor in front of the TV. Monica sat on her knees behind us, peering over our heads.

  “Who’s that with him?” Monica asked. “Is that the guy who spoke tonight?”

  “Yes, that’s Paul Foxtracker.” Cass shook her head in disbelief. “Phillis was right. It was John.”

  I couldn’t deny that seeing John Bridgemaker and his friend, Paul, lurking in the trees on Butch’s property—the property they wanted to purchase to build their casino—on the morning of the day he died … well, that was definitely suspicious.

  I couldn’t wrap my mind around John killing anyone, though. He was all about nature and peace and promoting education and appreciation for his culture. Killing Butch didn’t exactly factor into that plan.

  Monica was oddly silent. Her brow was furrowed like her mind was churning through all of the facts and couldn’t believe what her eyes were showing her.

  Cass twisted her fingers together. “They have to let Andy out, right? I mean, I have to take this to Reins and Ben. This is enough proof to arrest John and Paul.”

  “Right.” I clicked off the TV. “You better get it over to them so Andy can come home.”

  Cass unhooked the camera from the TV. “Thanks for being here for me, and for Andy. I don’t know what either of us would do without you.” She gave me a big hug, sighing in relief.

  “Go get him,” I said, urging her to her feet. “Wait. First help me up.”

  She and Monica tugged me off the floor, and Cass gave us a quick wave as she ran to the front door.

  “Something’s not right,” Monica said as soon as the door shut behind Cass.

  “I know. I was hoping it was just me, but even with the evidence and Phillis’s accusation, I can’t imagine John taking Butch’s life.”

  “Honestly, I don’t think even Cass was convinced. The proof is clear, though. What were they doing on Butch’s property? Did he know they were there?”

  “The way they were lurking in the trees, I doubt it.”

  Monica followed me into the kitchen. I tugged the refrigerator door open, hoping food had magically restocked on the shelves. “We have cheese, strawberry jelly, and outdated milk.”

  “The cheese is for the dog treats,” Monica said with a severe look of warning.

  “I won’t touch your cheese. Promise.”

  “I used all the peanut butter last week.” She stood on her toes and peered over my shoulder. “We need to go to the store.”

  “Well, what else do I have to do on a Saturday night?” I closed the fridge and grabbed my handbag off the counter.

  “You can help me make more treats when we get home. I need to buy flour. Cass gave me some of her fresh picked basil yesterday, and I’m adding it to my Diggity Cheese Snaps recipe. Basil’s a natural anti-inflammatory, so it should help Isobel’s arthritis.” Monica jingle
d her car keys and knelt down to pet Isobel, who was snoozing beside the fridge.

  I opened the back door and yelled for my canine herd. “Get in here. I can’t let you stay outside barking or Irene will fine me for being a menace to the town.”

  Once Gus, the twin tanks, and little Liam bounded inside, Monica and I ambled out to the car. “How long do you think they’ll have Dog Diggity taped off ?” she asked as we drove. “I need to get back in there or we won’t be ready to open by next weekend.”

  “I don’t know. We can ask Ben.”

  Out on 52, heading toward Brookville, the MMBA lodge came into view. Blue and white flashing lights filled the parking lot. I lunged forward, grasping the dashboard. “They’re arresting John! Pull in!”

  Monica turned the wheel and parked on the side of the building. The BBQ guests were filing out of the building, shaking their heads in disbelief. Some got in their cars and drove away while others stood in groups gawking and gossiping. I spotted Mom and Irene craning their necks for a better look, standing with Mia and Stewart, Fiona Stein and her husband Jim, Elaina Nelson, Carl Finch, and Steve Longo, owner of Odd and Strange Metamora.

  We hustled toward them as two of Brockville’s finest escorted John and Paul out of the lodge in handcuffs. I spotted Ben beside the front door, keeping our friends and neighbors at bay while the police did their jobs.

  I ran up to him. “What’s going on?” It was a stupid question. I knew what was going on. Cass turned in the video, but could it really have happend this fast? But what else was there to say when I was still in disbelief that it was actually happening? “Are they releasing Andy?”

  Ben took me by the arm and ushered me aside. “I know you’re invested in this case, being that it’s Andy, but I need you to stand aside and stay out of this.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest like a petulant child. “I was the one who helped Cass find the video, or these arrests wouldn’t even be happening right now!”