Chapter 5

Hammer & Birch

A little while later, Vera headed over to the formerly empty storefront on Walnut Street to get the lay of the land. A new sign had been placed in the window, the words written in a bold, elegant style.

“‘Grey’s School of Etiquette,’” Vera read out loud. “‘Now enrolling.’” Fastened to the glass was a smaller sheet, explaining that etiquette was an “essential art” and that students could sign up for classes in table manners, modes of address, formal dance, and more.

She knocked on the door, suddenly wondering if there was a proper way to knock.

No one answered, so she knocked again, louder this time. “Surely less polite,” she told herself.

Still, the door remained closed and locked. Whoever or whatever Grey was, they were not coming to greet a caller.

The afternoon was wearing on, so it was possible that the new tenant simply decided to close up early for the day. Or they peeked from a window and decided that Vera looked too much like a reporter—a reaction she was quite familiar with.

But reporters are tenacious, and Vera resolved to try again early the next morning. She stopped by the police station, only to hear that nothing new had been discovered. Orville pointed to a stack of papers on his desk and said that he’d be stuck there filing things till late. Vera took the hint and left him to his work.

She spent a quiet night at home, enjoying an old Bradley Marvel thriller novel while sipping peppermint tea. That is, she enjoyed it up until the scene where Marvel’s hero discovered a cache of bones, which hinted at more dire revelations to come. Vera put down the book, staring at the leaping flames in her hearth. Life was not a novel, but she had a hunch that the bones in the orchard also hinted at more dire revelations to come.

* * * *

After a night of restless sleep, she woke up ready to face another day, no matter what it might bring. She ate a bowl of oatmeal studded with cranberries, and drank a large cup of strong tea to fortify herself against a sunny but brisk morning.     

When Vera neared Grey’s School of Etiquette, she noticed that the front door was propped open with a heavy stone block to let in the fresh air. Excellent! she thought, strolling inside. Vera found herself in an empty reception area. On one wall a large bulletin board had a calendar of events posted on it, so she moved in for a closer look. There was something going on at the school every day of the week except Sunday. Letter writing, elocution, and ballroom dancing seemed to be the main subjects taught at Grey’s. Vera was noting the times and dates in her little notebook when she heard steps behind her.

“May I help you?” said a cool voice.

Vera whirled around to see an elegant mink observing her and evidently waiting for an answer. All mink carried a certain sense of class just because of their body shape and lovely coats. This mink, however, was in a class by herself.

Her coat was a gleaming soft silvery color, despite the fact that she could not be any older than Vera was. She also stood unusually tall and slender, with the sort of easy grace that made it difficult to look away. The mink’s dark eyes were intent, raking over Vera as though searching out any speck of dust. Vera remembered that her outfit really did need to be sent to the cleaners. She thought she’d get one more wear out of it first. Oops. She had never felt less prepared for an interview.

“Cat got your tongue?” the mink prompted. She was holding something in her right paw, and it took Vera a moment to recognize it as a copy of that day’s edition of the Herald. The newspaper seemed far too ordinary for such a glamorous creature to possess.

Vera stuck out a paw and introduced herself. “Hello! I’m Vera Vixen, with the Shady Hollow Herald. I’d like to speak to you about your new business if you have a few moments.”

“A reporter,” the mink said, with a slight edge of distaste in her cultured voice. “For the newspaper.”

“Yes. And I’d love to hear about your business,” Vera said, with more enthusiasm than she felt.

The mink peered at Vera’s still-outstretched paw, but made no move to shake it. “I am Ms. Octavia Grey,” she said. “I appreciate the interest, but I’m afraid that I am far too busy for an interview just now. So much to do with getting the business ready for our first customers, you see.”

Vera slowly dropped her paw to her side. She did not see how Ms. Grey could possibly be that busy, as there was no one anywhere, but she nodded, feeling a little cowed by the silver mink.

“Perhaps another time?” she asked. “The Herald is widely read! I’ll just leave you my card. Please contact me at your convenience.”

Vera placed her business card on the reception desk, as the mink made no move to take it from her. Then she left without another word, feeling the eyes of Ms. Grey on her until she was out of the sight of the school.

What a strange creature, Vera thought. She certainly wasn’t going to bring students in with her charm. How on earth could she teach etiquette and manners when she herself was so cold and unwelcoming? Vera continued down the street, and decided that it would be a cold day in hell before she would set foot in that place again, unless the mink changed her tune. She had much bigger things to worry about than some uppity stranger traipsing into her town telling folks that she knew more about politeness than the locals!

The police station was along her route, so she stopped inside.

“Vera!” Orville looked up at her in surprise. “You’re here early.”

“Well, I thought I’d see if you heard anything yet.”

“Nope. Dr. Broadhead told me that he might get something around noon. Till then, I’ve got some other issues to deal with. Good article, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Vera felt flattered. Orville always read the paper from cover to cover, but he rarely commented on any of the items. “Well, I’m off to work. Let me know if Broadhead’s report has anything interesting in it.”

At the Herald’s offices, Vera spent the morning looking through the vertical files. Files were kept on just about any creature or event in the town’s history, regardless of how obscure. Some files, like “Lost Gazebo of Spring Pond,” held only a few clippings—in this case, of the time when a flood isolated and eventually took down a once beautiful structure. For other items, multiple files were jam-packed with information.

She looked up Cold Clay Orchards first, learning that it had been founded over forty years ago, and steadily expanded since its beginnings. She compared the map of the orchard property with old maps of the town. The land the orchard stood on had been wilderness until it became cultivated by the owners of Cold Clay. She hoped to find evidence that the place once hosted a cemetery, which would explain the bones in a much less ominous way.

Vera turned to other topics. Joe’s Mug rated a file, unsurprisingly. So did its owner, Joe Elkin. Vera laughed a little to herself as she realized that she had never heard Joe’s last name uttered. He was always just “Joe” to her, and probably to most of the town. She went through the stack of papers in the file, and caught sight of a divorce decree that was dated about four years ago. The notice informed Vera that Joseph Oliver Elkin had been granted a divorce from Julia Ophelia Elkin on the grounds of abandonment. Mr. Elkin was granted full custody of Joseph Junior, the couple’s only son. The court clerk noted that Julia’s lack of appearance in court and her unknown whereabouts meant Joe won the case by default. No other details were provided.

Vera sat back in her wooden chair to contemplate this information. Joe must have thought Julia abandoned her family, and he wanted closure. Vera wondered if he’d tried to contact Julia in other ways before seeking the divorce. Had he heard anything from her at all? If so, it would disprove one possible explanation for the identity of the bones.

She put the files back just as her tummy rumbled. It was definitely lunchtime, and she hadn’t packed a thing this morning.

When Vera arrived at Joe’s Mug, the café was full of the lunch crowd. Vera surveyed the room, watching little groups of various creatures, all with their heads together and whispering furiously. Some had copies of the paper on their tables. Joe, however, seemed to be exactly the same as always. He was his usual pleasant self, chatting with customers as he filled their orders for food and drink. If he knew about the fact that the bones were suspected of being a moose, he didn’t let on.

As Vera waited her turn in line at the counter, she desperately tried to come up with some small talk. She had known this gentle creature for years, and now she was almost afraid to speak to him for fear of upsetting him. She racked her brain for some inane comment about the weather or some harmless chatter from Gladys Honeysuckle’s latest gossip column. But then, Joe usually knew the gossip before it ever got printed in the first place.

Before Vera reached Joe to place her order at the counter, the bell over the front door rang loudly, as the door was pushed open with extra force. Vera turned and saw Orville striding in. Her heart sped up as she realized that Orville must have got some news about the bones, and he certainly hadn’t told her before acting on it! The police bear was methodical and rarely jumped to conclusions, so his serious expression meant something…serious.

Vera frowned. The crowd at the front of the restaurant parted unconsciously as Orville advanced. They remained in earshot, however. No creature wanted to miss any drama in this town. Orville didn’t look at anyone, not even Vera. He walked directly up to the counter where the proprietor was standing, an expression of surprise and confusion on Joe’s face.

Orville tried to keep his voice down, but his words were audible to most of the nosy folks milling around the front of the shop.

“Well, Joe…er. Mr. Elkin,” he announced succinctly, “I’m afraid I need to ask you to come to the station to answer some questions.”

At this, Joe’s expression of confusion deepened. Oh, no, Vera thought. He really had no idea what this was about. He turned away from the police bear for a moment to whisper something to his son, Joe Jr., who was hovering nervously nearby. Joe Sr. came around the counter and stood in front of Orville.

“How long do you think this will take?” he asked with almost no trace of alarm in his tone.

“Just come with me, Mr. Elkin,” Orville replied formally. “I’ll be the one asking the questions.”

This is not going to help! Vera desperately wanted to intervene and say something, anything, to keep this from happening. She knew that Orville would be furious if she interfered with official police work. So, she literally bit down on her tongue to keep herself quiet, as Joe walked slowly out of his own establishment, followed by Orville. The café was oddly silent as the customers watched them leave.

The door banged shut behind them, and the bell issued another indignant ding. Apart from that, the silence continued for a few seconds, and then the noise level rose significantly, as every creature present began to chatter to his or her neighbor. Vera couldn’t bear to hear the speculation, so she left as quickly as she could, lunch forgotten. Judging by Orville’s demeanor and his forcible request to Joe, someone discovered a link between the bones and the missing Julia Elkin. Things were not looking good for her large friend.