Bobbins and Bodies Read online

  Mika scribbled every time I pointed something out, and when we stepped near a window, I could see she was marking each item I noted on a 3D rendering of the house. “That’s impressive,” I said.

  “Uncle Saul had one of his guys take my sketch and put it in CAD.” She looked at me. “That’s what the software is called, right?”

  I shrugged. “You’re asking me about a piece of software?”

  “Good point,” she said. “Thanks for letting me help, by the way.”

  I smiled. “Letting you? I’m pretty sure I would have been out of luck for workspace if I said no.” I pushed my shoulder into Mika’s. “So glad I’m smarter than that, and I’m really grateful to you and Saul. Didn’t he have any other construction projects going on?”

  Saul ran a really big construction company in Octonia. His crews built houses and churches, schools, and office buildings. His reputation was impeccable, and he was always in demand.

  “Nah. The month of December is usually pretty quiet, he said. Nobody wants to start anything new before the end of the year, and he works hard to be able to give his guys December off, with pay, if they want to take a break.” Mika made a note about the unpainted wainscotting and said, “Think your dad could do something with this?”

  “Sure could,” Saul said as he came up beside me. “You women almost ready? The crew’s here, and daylight’s wasting.”

  “Yep. Anything else, Pais?” Mika asked.

  I was about to say we were good to go, when something caught my eye over in the opposite corner of the room down below floor level. Most of my salvage jobs were in houses and stores, places where people spent a lot of time. So I’d gotten good at looking in corners and under cabinets. The best stuff – jewelry, old photos, vintage toys – often ended up there.

  Over in the corner beside the window, where the shadows got dark, I could just see the smallest arc of white. At first, I thought it might just be a sunbeam, but as I picked my way across the rotting floor, the more I could see it had shape and substance. It was small, like a crumpled piece of paper or a pen sticking out of the dirt.

  I knelt down and bent low . . . and then I scrambled backwards on my hands and feet, kicking up a cloud of dirt and crumbling wood in my wake. “Oh no!” was all I could manage to say.

  Mika reached down and dragged me to my feet. “What is it, Paisley?”

  I pointed and then stared at my hand a minute. “It’s a finger. A human finger.” I took a long, deep breath and took a step forward again.

  Saul put his hand on my shoulder and held me back as he stepped closer, leaned over, and said, “Time to call Sheriff Shifflett. No work today.”

  He took off his hat and stood staring at the finger while Mika dialed the sheriff’s cell number. I thought I could hear Saul whispering a prayer.

  2

  My text to Dad and Lucinda was very simple: Take Sawyer to a playground now. Police on their way. I don’t want him to see this.

  Lucinda’s text showed that she clearly heard the tone in my screen-locked words: Headed to the goat house. We will keep him busy, get him his nap, and see you at the farmhouse later. Call if you need me.

  I let out a sigh and then slumped against the wall, glad that my little guy was going to his favorite playground with two of his favorite people. As I lifted my head to stare at the gorgeous tin ceiling above me and lament not only the loss of income but also the loss of life, a strong hand grasped my shoulder. “You okay?” Santiago Shifflett asked quietly.

  I turned to face him and saw that he was in full sheriff’s attire, gun and radio included. Just his presence, as sheriff and his kind self, was enough to slow my heart rate and help me take a deep breath. Shifflett was our county’s first Latino sheriff, and while I knew he took some grief for that, I was very happy we had finally gotten over our racism, at least in this small way. His affable but professional demeanor and quiet charm had won over a lot of people, me included. But today, I was just grateful for the concern in his deep brown eyes and the fact that he could wear a five o’clock shadow at eight a.m. and look good, not just scruffy.

  I tried to put a smile on my face as I answered his question. “I am. Mostly.” I pointed across the room. “But that person is definitely not okay.”

  Santiago squeezed my shoulder as he tilted his head toward Mika, who was staring very pointedly out the window. “Why don’t you two go outside? I put some blankets on the hood of my car and left a thermos of hot cocoa there, too.” He squeezed my shoulder and then strode toward the body.

  I slipped my arm through Mika’s and pretended I didn’t see her wipe away tears as I led her out of the house and to the sheriff’s car, where warmth waited.

  We each took a wool blanket, and I grabbed the thermos. Then, we climbed up onto a round hay bale off in the field next to the house and cuddled up. Without even asking, I knew that Mika wouldn’t want to leave. We were the same this way – responsible and curious to a fault.

  As I poured her the first mug of cocoa, I said, “Remember when I lived up in Maryland for a while in that little townhouse neighborhood?”

  Mika squinted and then nodded. “I do. Cute house. Strange neighbors.”

  “I know, right? Well, one day, two friends and I were cleaning up trash along the nature trail behind the neighborhood, and we found a bone, a long leg bone.”

  Mika sat up from where she’d been leaning on my shoulder. “You found a bone? Why am I just hearing about this now?”

  I shrugged. “We freaked out, and I called the police. A deputy came over, took one look, and said, ‘Dog.’ Just like she’d seen this kind of thing a hundred times and felt confident enough in her canine forensic skills to be sure.” I still remembered that deputy’s placid face as she assured us multiple times that it wasn’t a human femur.

  “Oh my goodness. You trusted she was right? Didn’t you want her to test it or something?” Mika asked.

  “She was so sure that her confidence put us at ease. And when she sent the county maintenance staff to come clean up the remains, they found a collar.” I was still grateful that the deputy had taken the time to call me when they did, just to reassure me.

  “Someone just dumped their dog?” Mika’s voice was squeaky.

  “Actually, Sparky had dug his way out of my neighbor’s yard because he wanted to chase a squirrel. But his collar got caught . . .” I didn’t finish the sentence. It was a pet lover’s worst nightmare.

  “Poor Sparky. His owners must have been devasted.”

  I nodded and let out a long sigh. “They lived a couple doors down. You might remember them because they’re the ones who drove the pink camo car.”

  Mika laughed. “How could I forget?”

  “It took them a while,” I said, “but eventually, they got a new pup, a Great Dane that they named Cletus. He was amazing with those floppy ears and long tail. The kids in the family had to walk him for hours a night just to get him enough exercise, but he loved those children.”

  “At least that story has a happy ending.” Mika’s eyes shifted from me to the front of the house, where a stretcher with a body bag was being rolled toward the coroner’s van. “I don’t think they’d use the stretcher for a dog, do you?”

  As I watched them load the body in the van, I shook my head. “No. I had been hoping though.”

  “Me, too,” Mika said as she put her head on my shoulder. “Thanks for the story. It was a good distraction.”

  I put my head on top of hers. “For me, too.”

  We both sat up as Santiago approached. “Not much I can tell you. I know you know that, but we will be launching an investigation which means . . .” He looked at me and gave me a sad smile.

  “Which means this is a crime scene, so I can’t salvage here until you’ve cleared the scene.” I put my hands on top of my head and tried to keep my list of bills from scrolling through my mind like a news show’s ticker tape.

  “Oh no, Paisley!” Mika reached over and took my hands.


  I squeezed her fingers. “It’s okay. I’ll make do. A murder investigation is definitely more important than my finances.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Santiago said. “The person who died is most important, of course, but the investigation doesn’t need to outweigh everything. Also, who said anything about murder?”

  Mika rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mr. Policeman . . . we’ll just act like someone ends up buried in a house by accident.”

  Santiago cleared his throat, and I laughed. “She has a point,” I said.

  “She does. Yes, it was murder . . . but that is really all I can say.” He looked me in the eyes. “You okay, really?”

  I took a minute, checked in with myself, and found I was, indeed, okay. Sad. Shaken. But okay. “I am. Thank you for asking.”

  Santiago and I weren’t dating, but we weren’t not dating, not really. We’d spent a lot of time together a few weeks back because of a police matter that I’d inadvertently stumbled into. Since then, though, we’d had a couple of meetups over coffee and some fun text exchanges, but nothing more.

  I was fine with that, mostly, because I wasn’t sure I was ready to date. My divorce had been final for a couple of months, but I still was leery of getting into a new relationship, especially with Saw in the picture. That boy did love this policeman, though, and not just because of the flashing lights and siren. Santiago just seemed to get Sawyer, and I appreciated that a great deal.

  “Do y’all need a ride home?” the sheriff asked.

  “I have my car, so I’ll take Paisley,” Mika said. “But first, do you mind if we let Saul know what’s going on?”

  “You’ll save me the trouble,” Santiago said and gave me another squeeze on the arm before turning back to the house.

  I took a deep breath and met Mika’s gaze as we made our way over to her uncle and his crew. Mika jerked her head to the right, and Saul broke away from the cluster of men to join us a few feet away. “So it is a murder?”

  Mika and I both nodded. “Yeah. The sheriff couldn’t tell us more,” Mika said, “but definitely a murder. We have to clear out so that they can process the scene.”

  I sighed and said, “I’m so sorry, Saul. I pulled you and your guys all the way out here—”

  He interrupted me. “Did you murder that poor soul, Paisley?”

  I took a step back. “No, of course not.”

  Saul stared at me intently. “Then why are you apologizing?” He kept staring at me until I shrugged.

  “Sorry. Bad habit.” I groaned. “See?”

  “We actually have a clean-up job we can squeeze in now, so no harm, no foul, for us. And we’re clear for the next two weeks, so whenever the site is ready, we’ll just come on back.” He glanced over his shoulder at the guys behind him, most of them with Styrofoam cups of coffee still steaming in their hands. “I do need to tell them something, though. Okay if I clue them in?”

  Mika and I looked at each other and decided, silently, that Saul might as well let them know. It would be all over town by afternoon anyway, and maybe directness would slow the Octonia rumor train. I doubted it, but maybe.

  The three of us walked over to the huddle of six men, and each of them nodded at Mika and me before turning to Saul. “Job’s off for today, boys. It was a murder. Nothing more to know just now, but when I know and can tell you, I will. Now, let’s head to the Jeffries site and get that job done while we have the space.”

  Most of the men nodded and began walking back to their vehicles, but one guy stayed around. I didn’t recognize him, but he was about twenty years younger than me, so I probably wouldn’t have known him unless he was a knitter who visited Mika’s shop on Saturdays. From the look of his hands and the cracks in the callouses, I doubted yarn work was his deal. “Boss, guy who used to live up here went missing a few years back. Think I should tell the sheriff.”

  “What was the guy’s name, Peter?” Saul asked.

  “Rocket Sutherland, I mean Stephen Sutherland, Boss. We just called him Rocket.”

  Mika spoke up. “Do we want to know why you called him Rocket?”

  I cringed because this conversation could get awkward really fast.

  Peter blushed and said, “It was only because he could climb anything really quickly. He just rocketed up there.”

  I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and smiled. “I do think the sheriff would like to hear about his disappearance. You said he was from up this way?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Peter gestured up the gravel road that we’d all traveled in on. “Up a mile or so further into the mountains. Most folks thought he’d just left town, went to the city to get better work or something, but those of us who knew him had other ideas. Just didn’t seem like Rocket to leave, especially to leave his girl.”

  Before I even knew I was going to ask I said, “Who was his girl?”

  “Renee Morris. They’d been dating since high school. Rocket had bought her a ring and all. Just hadn’t gotten the right time to ask, I guess,” Peter said with a shrug.

  I nodded. “Thanks, Peter. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your last name.” He’d never said it, of course, because why would he? I wanted to know, though, just in case in mattered. Around here, manners were paramount, and I figured he’d answer my question out of politeness if nothing else.

  “Peter Werzer, ma’am.”

  I put out my hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Paisley Sutton.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said as he gave me a firm handshake. “Known your father a long time. He and my granddad are good friends.”

  I smiled and tried not to wince. My dad was now friends with the grandfathers of people in their twenties. I was clearly much older than my mental age of twenty-seven.

  “If you’re done with the interrogation, Paisley, perhaps Peter here might go tell the actual police what he knows,” Saul said with his eyebrows raised.

  “Of course. Sorry,” I said.

  Saul gave me a hard stare at my giving yet another apology. “Call me when we’re ready to get back to work,” Saul said. Then he turned without waiting for a response and walked to his truck.

  Mika bumped against me. “You ready to go?”

  I stared at the house and then at the brick ranch house the owners lived in just beyond it. “Do you have a few minutes? I’d like to talk to the owners and see if I can learn a bit more about the house before we go.”

  “You mean, see if they know anything about the body buried there?” Mika said as she looked at me through narrowed eyes.

  “Well, if that happens to come up . . .” I moved toward the house before she could say anything else.

  But they weren’t home. They’d left me a note on their front door with a number to call if we needed anything, but said they’d decided to be away for a few days since it was hard to see the house come down. A tiny part of me was suspicious about that, given the body that we’d found, but I didn’t think people would bring in a crew to take down a house if they knew someone was buried there . . . and, also, I could relate to the sadness of losing a building you loved. It had happened to me more than once in my life.

  “You’re off the hook for a history lesson,” I said to Mika as I walked back to meet her at her car. “They aren’t home.”

  She snapped her fingers and said, “Darn. You know how I love to learn obscure dates and random facts about buildings.”

  “I do know.” I smiled. Mika acted as if she didn’t care, but she loved this place we called home as much as I did. While her thing was the people who lived here now, she’d been in Octonia long enough to appreciate that it wasn’t just the now that made this place special. It was the then, too. She did bristle sometimes when people discounted her opinion because she’d only lived here a few years, but she was learning to understand that even that sort of snobbery was based on love of place.

  She didn’t have my unending love of research, though, so I was quite surprised when she said, “Feel like seeing if Rocket Sutherland’s f
amily is home?”

  “Really? You want to go ask questions?”

  She shrugged. “I’m paying Mrs. Stephenson for the whole day whether I’m there or not, so I might as well enjoy my time off.”

  “We could go get lunch, visit that new spa in town,” I said with a smirk.

  “Neither you nor I can afford a meal out, and while a massage sounds amazing, we need a windfall before either of us is getting a professional one of those.” She laughed. “So let’s go get this out of your system, and then we can swap shoulder rubs at your place before Sawyer gets home.”

  “That sounds perfect.” I climbed into her passenger seat and said, “Onward!”

  But I had no idea what exactly I was urging us toward, no idea at all.

  3

  As Mika drove up the winding road further into the mountains, I thought of the episodes of Southern Justice that my ex-husband loved to watch. Those officers had been driving into these hollows to stop fights or address folks who were drunk and disorderly, and there was always shouting and tears. I hoped we weren’t making our way into the same.

  While Mika drove, I looked up the Sutherlands’ place on the county GIS site, and it looked to be pretty near the top, where the views were prettiest. But on a road like this that hadn’t been bought out with people whose wealth afforded them not only the view but also the wherewithal to build, the living was hard. Historically, people had moved far up into the mountains so they could be left alone. Often that desire had been fueled by persecution because of people’s ethnicity or nationality, but sometimes it had been driven by a desire to have the privacy needed for more questionable choices. I mean, I liked good apple pie moonshine as much as Mika, but, at least historically, the folks who brewed it weren’t always the most friendly.

  We pulled up to the Sutherland house, and I admired the red twig dogwoods planted in beds around the most lovely red maples. Growing up the daughter of a man who loved plants, especially when they were planted with an eye to the setting where they thrived, had made me appreciate a good landscaping job. Someone in the Sutherland house either had the knack for gorgeous plantings or had prioritized hiring someone who did. The yard was gorgeous down to the whimsical birdhouses that sat amongst the wild edges. I could tell songbirds loved this place, and I kind of wanted to live there myself.