A Dastardly Death in Hillbilly Hollow (Ozark Ghost Hunter Mysteries Book 3) Page 5

  “Emma, you’re forgettin’ that I’m the sheriff around here. I can take you up there and let you in. I mean, Margene’s known you your whole life, and it sounds like Prudence wouldn’t mind.” He gave me another pat on the shoulder and nodded his head reassuringly.

  “Oh, thanks, Tucker! That would be great. Should I just follow you?” I asked.

  “Yep.” He walked over to the coatrack in the corner and picked up his hat, then slid his aviator shades out of his pocket and put them on.

  “Taylor, I’ll be back directly. If you need me, hit the radio,” he said to the young deputy behind the counter as we walked outside.

  Prudence’s house was close to the sheriff’s office. It was small, but neat and well maintained – exactly as I would have expected. I pulled my truck into the driveway beside Tucker’s patrol car, and followed him around to the back door. He picked up the edge of the doormat and retrieved a key, then he used it to open the back door, and put it back under the mat.

  Tucker, why didn’t you just tell me the key was there instead of coming with me?

  Sometimes I genuinely worried about the guy’s ability to take care of even himself, let alone all of Hillbilly Hollow.

  “Here you go, Emma,” he said, holding the back kitchen door open for me to pass through. “Just lock up when you’re done, won’t ya? Again, I’m real sorry about your friend. I’ll be prayin’ for her. I hope you find what you’re lookin’ for.”

  He tipped his hat to me, and left.

  I flipped on the kitchen light and looked around. It was clean enough to eat off of the floor, but I wasn’t surprised. Prudence was always a very precise sort of person – it made sense she would keep an immaculately clean house. On the kitchen counter was a baking dish containing what looked like a banana nut loaf. It must have been what Margene was bringing over when she found Prudence. There were two clean glasses drying, upside down, in the dish rack, along with two small, white, round plates, and two forks. For someone who kept their house as tidy as Prudence did, it was strange to think she would have had two days’ worth of dishes drying in the rack. She lived alone, so she must’ve had company the night she passed out.

  I stepped through to the living room. A small, upright piano sat against the large, bay window near the front door. I could picture Prudence spending hours there, perfecting every note of How Great Thou Art, Amazing Grace, and Oh Come All Ye Faithful for her performances at church. The sheet music on the stand was unexpected, though. It wasn’t another hymn but an old classic love song.

  Could she really have been seeing someone that no one knew about? I wondered. All signs were beginning to point to a love interest of some sort.

  I walked through the bathroom, and looked briefly in the medicine chest, but found nothing out of the ordinary. I saw the prescription bottle that Billy had mentioned. Most of the low-dose sleeping pills he had prescribed still seemed to be present and accounted for.

  Next, I walked to the bedroom and flipped on the tall lamp in the corner. The bed was made, but clearly someone had been lying on top of the covers. A small quilt was pulled back as if someone had thrown it off and gotten out of bed. The pillow was dented, and the duvet disturbed where Prudence had presumably been lying when Margene found her. Next to the bed was a short glass that still contained about a tablespoon of water. The bottle which contained the pills that she was supposed to have taken lay on the bedside table as well.

  Really, Tucker? You didn’t think you needed to confiscate those as evidence?

  I pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand to avoid smudging any possible fingerprints on the bottle and picked it up.

  Billy had mentioned that the stronger sleeping pills had come from a mail-order pharmacy. Sure enough, the online pharmacy was named on the bottle’s label. There was also a patient phone number listed on the label. I made a note of the number, deciding I had better not call it until I had a better idea just what was going on.

  As I put the medicine bottle back in its original location on the bedside table, something on the dresser across from the bed caught my eye. There was a photo of Prudence and Margene at Prudence’s high school graduation in a wooden frame on the dresser. From behind it, though, I caught what seemed like a glint of metal. I pushed the wooden picture frame aside and behind it, saw a small, silver box.

  It was about the size of a baseball, and looked a bit like a misshapen pumpkin. The lid had a black, braided silk tassel for a handle. I recognized the shape immediately. Among those I worked with in New York, it was common for young women to buy themselves a splurge when they got their first real job with decent pay. I had accompanied many of my friends shopping for their self-congratulatory gifts and they often came from the same store: Sampson & Sons Jewelers. I looked down at the ring on the second finger of my right hand. It was sterling and simple, with a distinctive organic shape, designed by Ella Pengrath. I would know her work anywhere, and the silver box was definitely her design, and definitely came from Sampson & Sons.

  I used the tissue I still had in my hand to gingerly lift the lid. Inside was a diamond solitaire engagement ring. The stone in Suzy’s engagement ring was large, and dazzlingly brilliant, but this stone was at least as big, and it bore the Sampson & Sons inscription inside the band. It had to have cost a fortune. I put the ring away, and carefully replaced the lid of the box.

  I stood for a moment, baffled, looking around at the spare, conservative items in Prudence’s cozy little home. Even if she had cracked and had some delusions of being engaged, she clearly did not have the means to buy herself a ring that required that sort of investment. She had to be engaged – really engaged – and to someone who was financially very well-off, for that matter.

  In the living room, I took one last look around, and saw something propped up beside the sheet music that caught my attention. It was Prudence’s diary. I thought it might help me figure out her movements in the days before she was hospitalized, so I tucked it under my arm. I walked back through kitchen, turning back just before I shut the door.

  “I’m going to figure out what happened,” I said, even knowing Prudence couldn’t hear me. “If the worst happens, I won’t let you cross over with your friends and family thinking you’ve done this to yourself. I’ll find whoever is responsible, Prudence. I promise.”

  I shut the door, crossed to the driveway, and got in my truck.

  Chapter 9

  I decided to go by the church and talk with Pastor Danny, who had stepped away from youth pastoring to take on the responsibility for the whole congregation after Preacher Jacob had died. I’d known Danny Baxter since we were kids. His older brother, Ted, was in our class at school, and had apparently dated Suzy for a while before she met Brian. I was sure Danny would be willing to talk with me about what had been going on with Prudence in recent days.

  It was late afternoon, and I saw the SUV in the parking lot with the stick figures in the back window that I knew belonged to the Baxter family. There was a figure for Danny, one for Lena, and one for little Madison, their daughter. Lena, Danny’s wife, had worked for Billy as his assistant since he had first opened the clinic. She had great organizational skills, and helped him keep the business side in order, and he gave her enough flexibility to take care of Madison as she needed to. It was a great setup for both of them.

  I walked in through the front doors of the church. There were several older parishioners in the front pews, praying. Careful not to disturb them, I quietly made my way around the back of the pews and up the side to the door that led to the offices. I found Rose Jenkins in the front office using a giant stapler to assemble some pamphlets.

  “Hi, Mrs. Jenkins,” I said. “Is Pastor Danny in by any chance?”

  “Oh, hello, Emma!” She smiled sweetly at me. Like the rest of Grandma’s quilting circle friends, Mrs. Jenkins had known me since I was born, and took a keen interest in every aspect of my life. She looked me up and down and I saw her tilt her head to look at my hands which wer
e clutching the handles of my purse. As she led me to the door of the pastor’s office, it occurred to me that she was looking for a ring. I didn’t know what was in the tap water making everyone in town have wedding fever all of a sudden, but I made a mental note to drink only bottled water until it had passed.

  “Pastor Danny, Emma Hooper would like a moment. Are you free?” Mrs. Jenkins said as she opened the door.

  “Of course. Thank you, Mrs. Jenkins. Come on in, Emma.” Danny stood from behind his desk, smiling, and made a broad arm gesture toward the seat across from him. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Can I get you anything? Glass of water?”

  “Oh, no. No, thank you.” I smiled and sat down.

  “So, what can I do for you today?” Danny had a compact frame, but was fit, and neatly groomed. He wore his auburn hair parted deep at the side, and it always looked as if it had been combed through with some sort of product, it was so perfect. He wasn’t as good looking as his brother Ted, but he had always been incredibly sweet and very studious. I wasn’t surprised when I returned to Hillbilly Hollow to find he had become the youth pastor under Preacher Jacob.

  “Well, I wanted to talk about Prudence, if I could,” I said.

  “Oh, I see.” Danny sat back and put his elbows on the arms of his chair, tenting his fingers together. “That is a very troubling situation. Very troubling indeed.” He shook his head and make a tsk-tsk sound with his teeth. “When someone chooses to take their own life, we, who are left behind, can only wonder why they would feel so hopeless when there is so much love in the world to which they could turn to lift them up.” He lifted his eyes slightly skyward on the last word.

  “So true,” I said, nodding my head. “That’s what I was hoping to talk with you about. You see, I think something else might have happened. Prudence seemed so happy recently. It was almost as if something wonderful was happening in her life that the rest of us didn’t know about yet. I just can’t imagine her hurting herself.”

  “I know it can be hard to reconcile these things, Emma. I understand you not wanting to believe that she could feel that way,” he replied.

  It was growing obvious that he thought I was in denial. I had to try a different approach.

  “Yes, it’s hard. I wondered if there was anything here at the church upsetting her. I just need to wrap my head around the whole thing. Can you tell me if she was working on anything new? Maybe who she spoke to on Wednesday?”

  “Well, let me see…she was starting to get the music selections together for the holiday choir practice which is starting up in a few weeks.”

  Mount Olivet Church had a longstanding tradition of caroling for charity, and Prudence led the special holiday choir. She selected the music, and conducted auditions for the coveted caroling spots.

  “Oh, of course!” I said, as if she had told me about it and I had forgotten. “She was wrapping up auditions, right? Was there anyone she had to disappoint? I’m just wondering if delivering bad news to a hopeful caroler might have added to her mood in the days before…, well, you know.”

  “I’m not sure, Emma. She kept that list herself and I don’t have a copy. I trusted her judgment, and knew she’d choose the best singers.” He paused, looking out the window for a moment. “But you know, I did see her talking with Ambrose on Wednesday morning. I thought they might be talking about the music director position.”

  Ambrose Snodgrass had been the music teacher at the high school at one time. A bad car accident had left him blind, and he did piano tuning, and gave some independent music lessons in his home to supplement his income. I had never known him to be anything other than kind and friendly, and the poor man seemed to have a difficult time just getting from one place to another. I was sure he couldn’t have even worked as a piano tuner if he hadn’t already been doing it all his life when the accident occurred. It was second nature to him, though – a skill he hadn’t had to learn. I couldn’t imagine him hurting a fly, let alone trying to hurt Prudence.

  “Music director? I didn’t realize there was one,” I said.

  “Yes, well, there will be. With the congregation having grown in the past few years, and the church choir being asked to participate in some local events recently, the Board of Elders has decided to add another paid position – a Director of Music. Prudence has led the choir of carolers for several years and plays the organ every Sunday, but Ambrose had expressed interest in the position as well. He’s been trying to get us to let him play the organ at Sunday service, but Prudence does a fine job, and we’ve seen no reason to change.”

  “Of course. Well, that just sounds like another opportunity for her to be excited about.” I sighed. “I guess we can’t know what happened. Maybe it was a mistake – perhaps she got confused and took the medicine more times than she should have. I just don’t know.”

  “Well, all we can do now, Emma, is pray for her and those closest to her. I can see you’re so upset by all of this. Let’s bow our heads together, shall we?” He reached his hands across the desk to take mine, and I bowed my head as he said a few words for Prudence. I thanked him and left his office, but I left with even more questions than answers.

  Chapter 10

  Back home, I excused myself right after dinner and went upstairs to see if I could find out anything else that would help me figure out what had happened to Prudence. I grabbed my phone, sat down at my laptop, and typed the name Peter Snipes into the search engine.

  The first link to come up was for Snipes Funeral Home on Chestnut Street in Hillbilly Hollow. I clicked the link and went directly to the About Us page. The website outlined the history of Snipes Funeral Home, which was first started in nineteen-sixty by William Snipes, then passed down to his son, David. When David retired, he passed the business on to his nephew, Peter. Peter had been a mortician at a big funeral home in Kansas City that was one of a large chain before taking over the family business as Director of Snipes Funeral Home in Hillbilly Hollow.

  The photo of Peter on the website made it look as if he was in his mid-thirties. He was an ordinary looking man with brown hair and pale skin but, in the photo at least, he had a kindly smile. I had to figure out why he was sending flowers to Prudence.

  It was around nine, and I was exhausted, but I wanted to check on Billy before I went to bed. He had seemed like he was in such a bad way the night before, emotionally distraught from the events of the evening. I rang his cell.

  “Hi, Emma,” he said as soon as he answered.

  “Hi, Billy. I just wanted to check and see how you were doing,” I said.

  “I’m glad to hear your voice,” he said, his voice low and a little gravely, betraying how tired he was.

  “I was worried about you, Billy. I know it’s been a rough couple of days,” I said. “Have you heard anything new?”

  “No,” he replied. “I called the hospital a couple of hours ago and they said her condition hadn’t changed. I didn’t tell you by text earlier, but I went by the hospital really early before my run. While I was there, her blood pressure dropped suddenly. She started to crash, and they administered epinephrine and used the paddles on her. After a couple of minutes, she seemed to…well, it was like she came back. She was still in the coma, but her vitals bounced back. It was a very close call.”

  I wondered if that was when I saw Prudence in my room. She had only been there a few minutes, and she disappeared so suddenly. I remembered her image seeming to flash in and out before she left. If my being able to see her was dependent on her body crashing, I hoped I didn’t see her again. I couldn’t help but hope there was still a chance she’d pull through.

  “Billy, I feel like there’s something you haven’t told me. Are you really okay?” I asked.

  He half-chuckled. “Oh, Emma, you always have been able to see right through me, haven’t you? Well, you know I help out Tucker when there’s a death – I’m usually the first person to be on-scene to examine the body. Unfortunately, losing patients comes with the territory for a doc
tor. I’ve been with some of my older patients, holding their hands, even, when they passed on. I’ve never lost someone as young as Prudence right before my eyes, though. I mean, she’s Dr. Garrity’s patient at the hospital now, but I’ve been treating her ever since I got my license and started my practice. She’s still my patient. The idea of losing her with me standing right there, not able to do anything…it was bad, Emma.”

  “Oh, Billy, I am so, so sorry. I can only imagine what that must’ve felt like. Let’s try to be a little positive, though, for Prudence’s sake, okay? We only have a few days left before Suzy’s wedding. There’s still a lot to do. Did you get your suit yet?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

  “I did.” I could hear a little hint of a smile returning to his voice. “And I hear you and Suzy got your dresses as well. I can’t wait to see them. I’m sure you’ll both be beautiful.”

  “We tried on every dress in town, so I hope we look alright.” I chuckled. “We can’t have you boys outshining us, now, can we?”

  We talked a while longer, and I agreed to come over for dinner the following night. I had to be in town anyway, and I sensed he could really use some cheering up.

  I put on my pajamas, scratched Snowball under her chin, and got into bed. I laid my head back on the pillow, tired from a long day. I started to drift off to sleep, when suddenly, I sat bolt upright in bed. Prudence’s diary! I had completely forgotten I had it. I went to my bag and retrieved the black, leather-bound binder. I turned on my bedside lamp and sat on the bed, putting my feet under the covers to stave off the evening chill. Of all the things I had brought back to make my room more home-like when I retrieved my things from New York, I had neglected to bring a space heater – a decision I regretted now the weather was turning cool.