Unexpected Riches (Bellingwood Book 13) (2 page)

"What about his brother?" Rebecca asked.

Beryl turned in her seat. "Cyrus was a good man. He started the first bank in Bellingwood. He, Jedidiah, and another brother named Lester, came to Iowa from Chicago. Lester went on out west. He thought Iowa was too close to home and wanted to see what the wild west was all about. He ended up as a lawman in California, I think." She gave her head a quick shake. "I haven't thought about these old stories in years. My grandparents loved gathering all of us kids around when we got together. He was quite the story teller. Fifty years ago at the centennial, everybody in Bellingwood was interested in his stories. I should dig out those old centennial books and help myself remember. I was only a kid at the time. I'm sure I've forgotten most of what he told us."

"Your ancestors founded Bellingwood," Polly said. "That's really something."

"I don't think they did it so that we'd be impressed a hundred and fifty years later. They were just trying to put down roots. Well, and Jedidiah was trying to make some easy cash." Beryl raised her eyebrows. "He had a few descendants that thought that was the way to live. Must be in the blood. Probably a good thing I never had kids."

"Don’t talk like that." Polly pushed her friend's arm off the console.

"These qualities run deep, you know." Beryl pointed back the way Polly had come. "A new body is back there?"

Polly nodded. "I called Aaron. He's on his way. Someone dug up one of the old graves and dropped a fresh body on top of it. They didn't bury it very deep because I was able to pull the dirt off the top. It was definitely not old bones."

"That old cemetery is going to get more attention now, I guess. Maybe I should call my brothers and talk to them about clearing a better path to it. We've never talked about doing anything out there. I think Melvin mows it once in a while." Beryl shuddered. "That's my favorite thing in the world."

"What?" Polly asked.

"Talking to my family. They're such a joy."

"Are you going to tell them it's a crime scene?"

Beryl cackled. "Oh, that will be a fun conversation. I can hardly wait." Then her face grew serious. "Crap. You don't suppose one of them could have killed someone. There aren't that many people who know where the cemetery is." Beryl's entire body drooped. "Oh, please say that it isn't true. They wouldn't. They couldn't. I don't like them very much, but they just couldn't."

"We know nothing right now," Polly said. "Heck, maybe Aaron will even accuse you of being the murderer. But until we know who is buried there, don't do this to yourself."

"When you're right, you're right," Beryl said, looking back up the lane. "So we're waiting for Aaron? I've never been around when they come in for one of your body-finds. This is exciting." She turned around to Rebecca. "Are you excited?"

"It seems weird. Somebody died," Rebecca said.

Beryl nodded. "You're right, honey. I'm sorry. That was insensitive."

Rebecca tapped Beryl's shoulder. "I was just kidding you. It's too bad that someone died and I hope they find out what happened, but it's kinda cool to be here right now. I wish we could stay while they dig the person up and do all of that crime scene stuff."

"You're raising a weird child," Beryl said to Polly. She turned around to Rebecca. "You're a weird child. What happened to those days when kids were supposed to be seen and not heard?"

"Wasn't that when you were a little girl?" Rebecca asked. "Look how well that turned out."

Polly chuckled and Beryl threw her head back in laughter. "This one is going to be a trip," Beryl said. "It will be fun to be part of her life."

"Did you two get enough time in the out-of-doors today to satisfy your inner artists?" Polly asked.

Rebecca pushed her sketchbook between the two women and waggled it. "I got a lot done. Beryl said that this is the perfect stuff to draw because there isn't any color. It's all about the shadows and light. She’s teaching me about the range of values and how…" Rebecca stopped and looked at Polly. "You don’t care about that." She drew her finger along a branch. "And there are so many interesting shapes in the trees. Have you ever looked at how cool branches are? They are bumpy and smooth and wavy and curly. It was awesome."

"And very different than when they are full of leaves during the summer. We should come back out and do this again," Beryl said.

"Maybe for each season?" Rebecca asked.

"Absolutely. But I think we'll find another driver."

"Why?" Polly asked. "I brought blankets and coffee and hot cocoa. I'm a great driver."

"You find bodies," Rebecca said, deadpan. "We don't need any more bodies."

Aaron Merritt's SUV drove down the lane to the shelter. She rolled down the window when he approached her truck.

"Good afternoon, ladies. Fancy meeting you here."

"These are surprises that I don't like," Beryl said. "Who gave them permission to do this on my land?"

He shook his head. "I have no idea."

"Do you need me to take you to the spot?" Polly asked.

"I can probably find it from your footprints," he replied. "But if you’ve warmed up enough to take another walk, I'd appreciate it."

"Can I come?" Rebecca asked from the back seat.

Polly looked at Aaron and he looked back at her. "You're going to make me be the bad guy?"

"Not this time," Polly said to Rebecca.

Aaron looked in the truck at the girl. "If there is any evidence along the trail, we need to keep activity to a minimum. But the cemetery will still be there long after we've gone. You can see it another time."

"Okay," Rebecca said with a sigh. She slumped dramatically back in the seat, then sat back up. "Andrew isn't going to believe this. I can't wait to tell him. Can I use your phone and call?" she asked Polly.

"Fine. I'll be back in a minute." She handed her phone to Rebecca and got out of the truck. "You girls stay here. Don't wander off."

CHAPTER TWO

"How about you come in for a while." Beryl said when Polly parked in her driveway.

Polly turned the truck off. "Would you like us to come in?"

"I could make some fresh coffee," Beryl said. "Maybe put a little Irish in it."

Rebecca leaned forward. "Could we? I want to play with the kittens."

"Sure," Polly said with a nod. "We're in no hurry."

Beryl had grown quiet during their ride home; a rare occurrence.

When Polly glanced at her, the woman's face was drawn. "Are you okay?"

Beryl forced a smile. "I suppose. When you're faced with it, it's no laughing matter, is it?"

"Death?" Polly shook her head. "No, it really isn't."

"That's somebody's child in that grave. Someone who didn't expect them to die this early in their life." Beryl put her hand on the door handle and pulled it open. "I need some kitty snuggles, too."

Polly nodded to Rebecca to follow Beryl inside and pulled out her phone. She swiped a call open and waited.

"Hello, dear," Lydia said. "Aaron already called me. I'm in front of Andy's house and we'll be right over."

"To Beryl's? That's where we are."

"That's where we're coming. She's not doing as well as you expected, is she."

Beryl stood at the front door and looked back at Polly while Rebecca went inside. Polly waved.

"I have to go. She's waiting for me."

"Tell her to put on a big pot of coffee. We'll be right there." Lydia ended the call and Polly got out of the truck.

It still floored her that she was friends with these people. How had she gotten so fortunate? They would drop anything when one of the others needed support. Lydia, Beryl and Andy had been close friends for longer than Polly had been alive. That was something else she didn't understand. No one in her life had been around that long.

Beryl waved impatiently and Polly jumped down, closed the door, and walked to meet her.

"Was that the troops?" Beryl asked. "Did you tell them that I'm a pitiful wretch?"

Polly grinned. "I didn't have to say a word. Lydia was already at Andy's house."

"You know," Beryl said, "I was really looking forward to today. I wanted it to be perfect."

"Until I stumbled across a body, it was, wasn't it?"

"I suppose. And this will occupy my mind enough so I don't have to think about the other bad things." Her shoulders sagged a little as she led Polly to the kitchen.

"What else is going on?" Polly asked. "Can I help?"

Beryl shook her head as she took her heavy coat off and draped it across the back of a kitchen chair. "No. I'm being a silly cat-mom." She looked up and gave a wan smile as Rebecca came into the kitchen, carrying the kittens in her arms.

Rebecca held one of them out and Beryl cradled the little thing before pulling it up to her face to kiss its head. When she looked back at Polly, there were tears in her eyes.

"Oh honey," Polly said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just being overly emotional. I have to take them to see Doc Jackson on Monday. They'll spend the night before being neutered Tuesday morning. Then they have to sleep in a strange place without me and when they wake up, they'll be in pain." She buried her face in the kitten's back. "They won't know what's going on and they'll be scared."

"Everybody there will take great care of them," Polly said. "Marnie and Doc Jackson are wonderful."

Beryl huffed a breath. "You're asking me to be sensible about this. I know they'll be fine. I know they'll be back to normal in a week or so and this will all be behind them. I never promised that I was sane."

Rebecca held the other kitten out to Beryl. "Here. Maybe you need to hold both of them."

"I’m okay," Beryl said, smiling at the girl. "This comes and goes on a fairly regular basis. It's gone now. As long as I don't think about it too much, I function just fine. But I'll tell you right now, Tuesday afternoon can't get here soon enough. I just want it to be over and for them both to come out of surgery healthy and genderless. I’m open-minded that way, you know."

Polly chuckled. "You're a nut. Now, where's the coffee?"

"In the fridge." Beryl pointed at the refrigerator. "I'll let you make it if you give me your coat. Rebecca, take the kittens back downstairs. We'll be there in a few minutes." She handed Hem back to the girl, took Polly's coat, picked up her own, and left the room.

Polly remembered taking Leia in to be spayed. That had been a difficult day for her. Those little fuzz-balls wasted no time to stealing a piece of her heart. She gave her head a quick shake and opened the refrigerator door, then took out the coffee. Beryl's refrigerator was a hoot. Several different flavors of coffee, two half-empty bottles of wine, take-out containers, and a loaf of Sylvie's bread from the bakery. The doors were filled with condiments and bottles of ... Polly had no idea. She picked a jar up and looked at it. Pickled and spicy asparagus. Weird.

The crisper drawers were empty, a butter dish was half full, several jars of jams, two of which had never been opened, and blocks of cheese. She opened the freezer and wasn't surprised to see it filled with frozen dinners and even a couple of frozen pizzas. Polly was going to have to invite Beryl over for more homemade meals.

"Envy my selections?" Beryl asked in Polly's ear.

Polly jumped. "You snuck up on me."

"Well, you're
checking
up on me. You know I hate to cook."

"I guess I didn't realize it was this bad."

"It's this bad. Now come on. Make that coffee before Lydia shows up or she'll think we're sitting around here moping." Beryl filled the carafe with water and poured it into the coffee pot. "Give me the coffee. You're useless when you're spying on someone."

"I wasn't spying," Polly protested weakly. Yes, she was and she'd been caught.

"Like I haven't been through your kitchen and all of your bathrooms," Beryl said. "Now where do I keep those filters?"

Polly opened a drawer and Beryl laughed. "I'm teasing you. They're right here." She opened the cupboard above the coffee pot and there, sitting by themselves on the lower shelf, surrounded by absolutely nothing, were the filters.

"How do you not have any food in this house?" Polly asked and opened more cupboard doors. She found dishes, glasses and mugs, but nothing else.

Beryl opened one last door. "I have cereal. It just isn't that important to me. I won’t cook unless someone twists my arm, so why fill the space with food I'll just have to throw away down the road."

"I suppose that makes sense. It's weird, though. My cupboards are packed full of things I might need someday."

The front doorbell rang and Polly stepped toward the kitchen door.

"It's Lydia. We don't need to show her in. She knows the way." Beryl scooped coffee into the filter and flipped the switch. "There. At least it's brewing." She tapped Polly's shoulder. "And no moping. She'll know right away."

Beryl started toward the living room and turned back to Polly. "Don't tell them about me getting all stupid over those kittens, okay? Lydia doesn't understand and Andy thinks I'm already being ridiculous about them." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "That's what happens when you don't have animals around. You lose your soul."

Polly laughed and shook her head.

"Hallooo," Lydia called out. "Where are you?"

Beryl stepped into the hallway. "We're in the kitchen. I made coffee. Did you bring the whiskey?"

Lydia stopped and put two totes on the floor and pulled her friend into a hug. "I'm so sorry about your day. Aaron called me."

"It didn't happen to me," Beryl said. "I'm alive. Whoever that poor soul is out there is the one who deserves your sympathy." She turned to Polly. "And maybe her. She did the finding."

"Don't you dare get all tough on me, Madame Softy," Lydia said. She reached down and grabbed up the totes again and scooted Beryl back into the kitchen.

Andy was right behind her carrying two more totes. They put them down on the tiny kitchen table and Lydia pointed at the lower cupboard next to the refrigerator. "Have you opened that one yet, Polly?"

Polly shook her head and stepped back. She pulled the cupboard door opened and chuckled. "You have plenty of whiskey. And everything else. Good heavens, woman, it's a full-fledged bar in here." She reached down. "Blackberry brandy? What's this about?"

"That goes in one of my favorite party drinks," Beryl said. She put her hands under her boobs and shook them. "I call 'em Hot Apple Knockers."

"Wait," Polly said with a snort. "What?"

"You heard me. Hot Apple Knockers. Don't be snorting at my knockers. They're all I've got."

"Do you shake your knockers when you serve these knockers?" Polly asked.

Beryl pursed her lips and then said, "That would be embarrassing. Why would I ever embarrass myself like that?"

Polly looked for help from Andy and Lydia and they both just looked at her with smiles on their faces. "No help?" she asked.

"There are thirty bottles of alcohol in that cabinet and you chose the blackberry brandy. You asked for it," Lydia said.

Andy pulled a baguette out of one of the totes. "Did you girls eat anything today? I know how this woman is when she's focused on her artwork. She loses all sense of time."

"And Polly isn't much better if she's finding bodies." Rebecca stood in the doorway. "I heard you come in. Hi there."

"Hello dear," Lydia said. "Did you find scenery to sketch before Polly did her thing?" She and Andy continued to empty the totes, filling the table and counter tops."

"Do you want to see what I did?" Rebecca asked.

"Of course," Lydia responded. She put a casserole dish in the refrigerator and closed the door. "I'll be back." She put her hand on Rebecca's back as they walked out.

"She's a good grandma," Beryl said.

"Did you find anything interesting to draw today?" Andy asked.

Beryl laughed. "You're a good grandma, too. And yes, we had fun with our pencils and I even snuck in a little charcoal training." She shook her head. "That girl is a natural artist. She’s a joy to work with. I hope you plan to encourage her to do something with this."

"She can do whatever she wants," Polly said. "I want her to be a physicist or an astronaut, an artist or an actress. I just want her to always do her very best and find happiness."

Lydia's phone began to ring. Polly picked it up and saw that it was Aaron. She grinned and showed it to Beryl and Andy. "Should I?"

"If you don't, I will," Beryl said.

Polly swiped the call open. "Hello, sweet-ums, how are you?"

"Lydia?" Aaron asked, confusion evident in his voice.

"Oh, honey-bear, don't you know who this is?" Polly asked.

"Polly Giller, what are you doing on my wife's phone?"

She laughed. "We kidnapped her. She won't be allowed to leave until she's baked many goodies and hugged many necks."

"She's good at all of that," he said with a laugh. "Are you at Beryl's? Lydia was planning to go over there when I talked to her."

"They just got here with totes full of food. Lydia's looking at Rebecca’s sketches from this morning."

Aaron grew serious. "I need to speak with Beryl. You’re going to be there for a while?"

"Sure, what's up?" Polly walked out of the kitchen to the living room where she found Rebecca and Lydia on Beryl's sofa, flipping through the morning's sketchbook while May and Hem wrestled on the couch beside Rebecca.

"We have an identity of the man you found and I want to ask Beryl if she knows who it is. Don't say anything to her yet, though. You don't need to upset her. I'll do that."

"Sure. We'll be here," Polly said. "Did you want to talk to Lydia?"

"It's okay. Tell her I'm on my way and to save me something good to eat. I forgot to get lunch today."

"Got it. See ya." Polly reached over and handed the phone to Lydia. "That was Aaron. He's on his way here. There's something he wants to talk to Beryl about."