A Dastardly Death in Hillbilly Hollow (Ozark Ghost Hunter Mysteries Book 3) Page 8

  With the coast clear and Ambrose no longer in my line of sight, I quietly turned on the truck and made my way to the end of the alley, turning the corner to park in front of the ice cream shop. I would stop at Kipling’s to pick up Suzy’s gift, then I had one more stop to make. If I was going to get to the bottom of what had happened to Prudence, there was one more person I needed to talk to. I was running out of time before Suzy’s wedding the following day, and Prudence might be running out of time altogether.

  Chapter 14

  I walked into Kipling Jewelers and was greeted enthusiastically by John Kipling, the owner. “Hi, Emma! Good to see you! I’ve got your very special order all ready to go. Please, have a look around while I go retrieve it from the back,” he said.

  “Hi, Mr. Kipling. Thanks!” I smiled back at him.

  Mr. Kipling had owned the jewelry shop in town as long as I could remember. He was a short man with a portly shape, but a jovial nature and a broad, easy smile. He always wore suit pants with a matching vest that was just a bit too tight for him, and wore at least three rings on each hand, plus a heavy, flat gold chain around his wrist. His hair was non-existent on the top, but thick and bushy around the back and sides, a look that was echoed by his mustache. He looked a bit like someone from the disco era who had been dressed up as a 1930s merchant.

  I perused the shelves of watches, bracelets, necklaces, and earrings as I waited. In one corner of the shop was a display case full of class rings, above which hung a faded high school pennant with the logo of the local team, the fighting buffalo. I, myself, had gotten my high school class ring here. I had chosen a demure option that looked dainty, rather than like the traditional class ring, and had a navy-blue stone for our school colors of blue and gold.

  As I passed by a case with engagement rings and wedding bands, I looked over the selection. I couldn’t help but think of the beautiful Sampson & Sons ring that Prudence had hidden away. I wondered if even her mother knew about her secret engagement. After all, she hadn’t said a word, but had merely mentioned at the hospital that her daughter was happy.

  “Well, I see you found the case with our wedding selections,” I heard Mr. Kipling say as he emerged from the back room, breaking me from my thoughts. “With Suzy getting married, are you looking at walking down the aisle yourself? I haven’t seen Dr. Will in here, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he popped in to see me any day now to do some shopping of his own, hmm?” He raised a bushy eyebrow and gave me a sweet, enthusiastic smile.

  “What? Oh, no, no, no!” I said, shaking my head more vigorously than I intended to. I wasn’t surprised that so many people in town thought Billy and I were a couple. After all, we had been inseparable most of our lives, and it was something I had heard often since we were in high school, at least. Still, it made me think about people’s perceptions, and how what looked like one thing to the outside world could be something else entirely.

  Billy and I were very close. Suzy was my best girlfriend, and always would be, but with Billy, it went even beyond that. Since I’d been home, I’d come to realize that I had cut him off when I moved away because I knew that if I’d stayed close with him, I wouldn’t have been able to stay away. I would have found myself right back here after college. In the end, I was back here after all, and we had picked right back up where we left off as if not a day had passed. I had gone back and forth with some sort of crush on Billy for most of our lives, and we had certainly flirted since I’d been home, just like we always had. Dating, though, was not worth the risk. I knew that, and he certainly knew that we were no more than just friends, but to the outside world – to the people of Hillbilly Hollow who saw us on a day-to-day basis, the perception was that we were together. We saw each other all the time, did things together, and neither of us was dating anyone else. That perception was their reality.

  The perception about Prudence was that she had an unrequited love for a man whose life was tragically cut short. She gave the appearance of the quirky, kindly young spinster who played the organ at church and dressed years beyond her age. That was our perception. That was not, though, her reality, as I had come to find out.

  Mr. Kipling laughed one of those whole-body laughs that made his belly shake, and the buttons on his suit vest strain to contain him. “Oh, Emma! You’re an educated girl. I know you’ve heard the phrase, ‘me thinks she doth protest too much’! I was just having a little fun. I’m sorry.” He raked the back of his chubby hand across his face, wiping under his eye as if he had told the funniest joke on the planet.

  “No, it’s okay.” I chuckled and shrugged. “People often make that mistake, but we’re just friends. Besides, it’s Suzy’s big day tomorrow – as her maid of honor, that’s all I’m really focused on right now.” I smiled.

  “Well, you are a good friend, indeed. In fact, I don’t remember a time when I didn’t see you, Suzy, and little Billy, as we all called him back then, together. It must be good to have such strong friendships – the kind that last a lifetime!” He nodded affably. He was right. I was incredibly lucky to have them back in my life and I was suddenly overwhelmed by the idea I should tell them that more often.

  “Okay then, let’s have a look at this locket, shall we? Michael, my apprentice – you might remember him…my cousin Mildred’s son? Anyway, he’s a very talented artist, you know. Take a look at the engraving work and tell me what you think. I have a loupe here if you’d like to use it for a closer look. Like this.” He demonstrated for me, and set the loupe down upon a large, black velvet cloth he had laid out on the countertop.

  I picked up the silver locket and held it in my hand. The size was perfect – large enough to be visible but not so big as to be show-y. The silver chain was delicate and feminine, and the engraved design on the outside of the silver locket was intricate and beautiful. I opened it, and inside was the picture of the three of us. We were probably eight or nine, and judging by the t-shirts we wore, it was summertime. I was surprised when I first saw the photo, as our faces were each a bit dirty, particularly at the sides of our mouths where dirt stuck to what I could only presume was some sort of food we had recently consumed. Ice cream? Watermelon? It was difficult to say what it might have been. It was unlike our parents and grandparents to allow a photo to be taken with us in such a state, but we had clearly been having fun, and whoever took the photo saw the opportunity for just what it was: a chance to capture us in a happy and free moment of our childhood.

  Billy stood up straight in the background, just a little taller than Suzy and me, with his shoulders squared. His black hair was thick, and his eyes dark against his tanned skin. Even as a little boy he was handsome. I was leaned up against him, my shoulder resting against his. I was tanned from a summer of playing outdoors, but never got to be anything like the golden color Billy so easily achieved with his Cherokee heritage. My dark hair was a mess, with wild, stray hairs sticking out here and there from the two braids that tried to contain my wayward curls. Between us, standing just in front of us, was Suzy. Her hands were on her hips, her chin raised as she looked confidently at the camera, her blue eyes piercing, daring any onlooker to challenge her.

  I felt a single tear breach my bottom lashes, and quickly wiped it away with the back of my finger as I read the inscription. In beautiful, scripted font across from our photo read our motto, one for all and all for one. “Oh, Mr. Kipling! It’s just beautiful!” I said, my voice betraying a little emotion.

  The expert salesman smiled proudly, and quickly produced a box of tissues from under the counter, offering me one. “I’m so happy you’re pleased, Emma. I truly am. Michael will be thrilled that you like his work so well.” He smiled and nodded.

  We made small talk while he polished up the locket, removing my fingerprints and any smudges, and packaged it up for me with a lovely box and ribbon. “So, Mr. Kipling, about these wedding sets,” I said, my eyes going to a tray of wedding bands and engagement rings that seemed to be a hodge-podge of different styles, quality, and pri
ce points. “And again,” I smiled playfully, “I’m not asking for me, but…are these pre-owned or something?”

  He chuckled, never putting his work down as we talked. “Oh, yes, very good eye! Some of those are designer, some are from department stores. We typically deal in new and original pieces, but sometimes people come through wanting to liquidate a piece, or a set. Perhaps the marriage has, tragically, ended, or the wedding fell through altogether. I am not really set up as a buyer, mind you, but I do buy things on occasion if the piece is a good addition to our inventory, or more often than not, just to help someone out.”

  He smiled. He did not want to be thought of as a pawn shop or second-hand store, I was certain, but judging by the glistening gemstones of the rings he wore himself, I was also certain that he was a shrewd businessman and would not turn down a good business deal when he saw one.

  “Say,” I continued as I looked through the case, “you don’t ever get things from Sampson & Sons, by chance, do you?”

  “Funny you should mention! I had a beautiful Sampson solitaire sitting here for ages, actually. I took it in along with a beautiful silver box from a lovely woman who was passing through on her way out west. Her husband, she realized, had a penchant for the ladies, and she was heading to California to live with her sister. Along the way, she had looked down at the ring, and decided right then and there that she never wanted to see it again, so when she stopped in town for lunch, she came and saw me, and sold it to me, along with the silver box. I sold it a few weeks ago, actually. Those are the only Sampson items I’ve had for a while, though.” He nodded his head as if he was thinking. “I see that’s a Sampson ring on your finger. A Pengrath design, if I’m not mistaken.” He winked, showing off that he knew his stuff.

  After I paid for my purchase, I went back to the truck. I knew who I needed to see if I was going to get the answers I needed about what happened to Prudence. Perception was different from reality in this case, I was sure of it. I was more determined than ever to find out what had happened, and there was one man who I thought held the key to everything.

  Chapter 15

  I climbed in my truck, and tucked Suzy’s wedding gift safely in the console. It was getting to be late-afternoon, and I had one more stop to make before I headed over to Billy’s for dinner.

  I turned off Main Street onto Chestnut and pulled into the parking lot of Snipes Funeral Home. The property was beautifully maintained with the Victorian-era home in which the main building was housed standing, imposing and proper, against the more modest homes that flanked it on either side. I briefly wondered what it must be like living next to a funeral home, and whether the children that grew up next door would tell each other scary stories about the old building.

  I walked inside where Mr. Gentry, a gentleman who had worked at the bank when I was a kid, greeted me. This must be his retirement job. Makes sense – who knows everyone in town better than a banker, and he’s certainly accustomed to dealing with people at every stage in life.

  “Hello, how can I help you?” he asked as I walked up to the small desk inside the foyer.

  “Hi, Mr. Gentry. You may not remember me – I’m Emma Hooper,” I said, realizing that there were many people in town with whom I had grown up but whom I had not yet seen since my return to Hillbilly Hollow months before.

  His green eyes brightened with recognition, “Ah, yes, of course! I remember you, Emma. I haven’t seen you since, well, I don’t remember the last time.” He chuckled. “Last I heard you were a city girl now.”

  I smiled and placed a hand on my chest as if I had been offended.

  “Now, Mr. Gentry, you can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl.”

  He nodded in agreement, “Ah, then, I apologize, Miss Country Girl. Well, I assume there is no doubt you will be attending Suzy's wedding tomorrow?”

  I grinned. “Maid of honor, actually.”

  He clucked his tongue and placed both hands on top of the small desk. “I should have known. The two of you have been inseparable since you were only kids. I remember when one of you would go missing we would just look for the other. Wherever one of you was, the other was sure to be there as well. Oh, and of course we can’t forget Billy, now can we?”

  We both laughed light heartedly.

  “I remember when you were all just a bunch of kids running around. Now Suzy’s saying ‘I do’. Time really does fly. Why, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if the next wedding was your own,” he said with a wink.

  “Oh, uh, I’m not too sure I’m ready for that yet, and Billy, well, he’s just a friend.”

  Mr. Gentry smiled. “Well, if you’re not ready then I guess that’s that, but Emma, he won’t wait forever.” He winked.

  I laughed awkwardly.

  Mr. Gentry had always had a kind soul. As I child, I had looked forward to Grandma's weekly bank visits. I would wake up at the crack of dawn just to ride with her. It had become a sort of weekly adventure. Mr. Gentry had a new story for me to hear every time, and the visits always ended with him handing me a big, red, cherry lollipop.

  He was sick once, and an older woman had filled in for him. She was strictly business and at the end of the visit she handed me a mint, of all things. It was a long ride home. I was miserable that day, so when I saw Mr. Gentry the next week back at his usual post I was over the moon.

  I felt a small pang of guilt for not coming to see him sooner, and I wondered briefly what other people had yet to learn of my return, but I quickly dismissed the thought. I was on a mission for Prudence. She deserved the truth, and I was running out of time.

  “I was hoping to see Mr. Snipes. Is he in today?” My voice displayed far more urgency than I had intended it to.

  Mr. Gentry had not seemed to notice, or if he did, he kept it to himself. “He’s in his office, but I have to warn you, he has not exactly been much of a conversationalist lately.” His voice trailed off, then seeming to remember he was not alone, and there was in fact a customer just a few feet away, he cleared his throat and continued speaking.

  “If you have any questions I would be more than happy to help.” He must have noticed the worry making its way across my face and misinterpreted it as doubt. “Don’t worry, I’m just as knowledgeable as Peter himself, if not more,” he finished with a grin.

  “Oh, I’m sure you are, Mr. Gentry. I wouldn't expect anything less from you. You’ve never been one to take a job without learning the inner workings like the back of your hand. I’m just worried about Peter Snipes. Is he okay? I really needed to speak with him today.”

  It was imperative that I speak to Peter Snipes. He was the last piece to this puzzle. Who could provide me with more information than Prudence's fiancé himself? If I was going to find out the truth I needed to speak to him.

  Mr. Gentry dropped his head, then looked around as if to be sure there were no people close by to hear what he was about to say.

  “I’m sure you have heard about Prudence by now. It’s such an awful tragedy, and Peter has not been himself since.”

  I nodded slowly. “So they were close?”

  Mr. Gentry lowered his voice. “I’m not one for speculation, but I had never seen Prudence outside of church. Then suddenly she is showing up here daily, bringing Peter lunch, and stopping by for no reason. Peter was just as eager to see her. He would leave his office in the middle of the day, sometimes for hours. And –”

  He stopped and ruffled a wrinkly hand through his grey hair. “No, no. I can’t say.”

  I felt bad for Mr. Gentry, he had clearly already said more than he had ever intended to, but it was not enough. If I was going to get to the bottom of this, I needed to know everything. I had to keep pressing.

  “Mr. Gentry, please. You can tell me. I won’t speak of it to another soul.”

  He sighed heavily. “All of this occurred while Peter was still seeing Cindy.”

  My eyes grew wide as the words slipped out of his mouth. I guessed th
ere was some truth to Cindy’s speculations after all. Prudence had never struck me as the type to be with a man already spoken for.

  If Cindy truly felt that Peter was cheating on her there was no telling the amount of anger and hurt that had caused her. Prudence, of course, would have become the bane of Cindy’s existence. Cindy would have blamed her for everything. It sounded an awful lot like motive to me.

  Mr. Gentry continued speaking, as I started connecting the dots. “I felt awful answering Cindy's phone calls every day. Telling her Peter was with a client while he was out with Prudence. It had been going on for months. I don’t even know where Peter got the time to work, as much time as he was spending with Prudence.”

  It seemed as though a huge weight had been lifted off of Mr. Gentry’s shoulders. I couldn't imagine knowing a secret like that, and having to carry it all on my own. I was in the middle of trying to process all of this when my phone buzzed.

  BILLY: Dinner still on?

  ME: Yes. Just running some errands.

  BILLY: Maid of honor duties?

  ME: Yep. What else?

  BILLY: Nothing just checking in. Do you want spaghetti or steak?

  ME: Doesn’t matter

  There was a pause, and I shoved my phone back in my pocket. There was too much going on for me to be texting Billy right now. I felt bad for being so short with him, but I was sure he would understand.

  That was what made him such a good friend, after all. He was always so understanding and forgiving, no matter the circumstances. Not even five seconds after I had put my phone away, the phone on Mr. Gentry's desk began to ring.

  “Snipes Funeral Home. How may I help you?” he answered.

  There was a pause.

  “Ah, yes. Mrs. Bostic.”

  I exchanged a strange look with Mr. Gentry when he spoke the name. Mrs. Bostic was such a sweet woman. She would bake cookies for the Sheriff’s department every week, and was always looking for ways to help out with the community along with her husband, Todd.