Chapter 22
The next day Vera awoke early and went over her notes on each suspect and their alibi. She had not slept well. She had nightmares about the boulder hitting her and how close she had come to being killed herself. She stopped at Joe’s for coffee before meeting Orville at the police station.
At that early hour, Joe’s Mug was deserted, with the exception of Joe, who was brewing coffee and setting out fresh pastries.
“Some event yesterday,” Joe said. “I wondered if even that mansion could hold every creature in the Hollow.”
“Every creature but Ruby,” Vera noted. “Did you speak to her afterward?”
“I did,” Joe confirmed. But he said nothing more, and it was clear that whatever passed between the two creatures had been a private conversation.
Vera wasn’t sure what to say about it. While Edith’s reaction had been extreme, Ruby’s behavior was an open secret, and no one really doubted Edith’s accusation.
“May I get two coffees this morning?” she asked, choosing a safe topic.
“Didn’t sleep?” Joe said as he poured coffee into two large cups.
“Not much, but that’s not why.” Vera explained she was meeting Orville, who had complained about the quality of the coffee at the station. Too exhausted for any other gossip, even with Joe, Vera merely paid and hurried on her way.
When Vera arrived at the police station, Orville was there at his desk. He didn’t appear to have slept any better than she did. He accepted the large cup of coffee gratefully and invited Vera to take a seat in the visitor’s chair across from him.
Vera was interested to see that the police bear was once again studying the autopsy reports of Otto Sumpf and Reginald von Beaverpelt. There was also a complex-looking description of the poison, submitted by Dr. Broadhead.
Vera pulled out her notes, mainly a list of all the possible suspects and their alibis or lack thereof. The residents of Shady Hollow were not used to accounting for their whereabouts at any given time. It didn’t help that the exact time of Otto’s murder could not be pinpointed beyond “between sunset and sunrise.” Most creatures said they’d been at home, naturally, but no one could provide much in the way of verification.
Orville had more notes of his own, including a complete profile on Lefty.
“No success in bringing him back in yet, I assume?” Vera asked.
The bear shook his heavy head. “One thing I’ll say for Lefty: he knows how to hide. He could be nearly anywhere in the woodlands at this point.”
“But you must have a lead.”
“One,” he said. “Lefty has a lady friend. I went to her place the day after Lefty was released. She denied seeing him, of course, but I think there’s a good chance she knows where he’s hiding. I’m having her place watched.”
Vera read the information with interest. Lefty’s lady, Rhonda, lived in a neat little cottage in Elm Grove, which was a small village farther downriver. According to the report, most of her neighbors liked her, although she was a petty thief much like her beau.
“She did seem shocked by the report of von Beaverpelt’s death,” Orville said. “I’ll wager she didn’t know about it. If Lefty told her he’d been arrested for Otto’s killing, he didn’t say a word about von Beaverpelt.”
“It’s possible Lefty got out of town before he knew about the death,” Vera said. “Assuming he’s innocent.”
“I can’t assume that,” Orville growled. “Why else would he leave town so fast?”
“Because he’d be blamed for the next bad thing. Isn’t that exactly what happened?”
“Are you saying you don’t think Lefty’s to blame?”
Vera argued, “He was in jail when von Beaverpelt was poisoned the first time. How could he have done that? And besides, why would Lefty kill either Otto or von Beaverpelt? He has no motive.”
“You should be his lawyer, Miss Vixen.”
“I’m just trying to find out the truth.”
“So am I.” Orville sat back and sighed. “But nothing makes sense. I’m missing a piece of the puzzle.”
So Orville and Vera compared their notes. Vera gnawed on a pencil while she mulled the situation over in her mind. Answers eluded them.
After talking over the case with Orville, Vera returned to the cemetery. She didn’t have any plan in mind, but she was drawn to the peacefulness of the hill where Shady Hollow’s “permanent residents” slept, and she couldn’t help but find herself standing over Reginald’s grave.
Who had he been, really? Parson Dusty had given such a rousing speech after Otto’s death, one that made the townsfolk realize who they had lost. But his eulogy of von Beaverpelt left more questions than answers. Was he born poor, as the parson claimed? Did he get his money through hard work or through marriage, and did it really matter which one? Was Edith’s show of grief real or a put-on? And, in the end, who killed him and why?
“Good afternoon, Miss Vixen,” a smooth voice said very close beside her.
Vera jumped in surprise. She hadn’t heard anyone approach, but now Ruby Ewing, still in mourning wear, stood right next to her.
“Hello, Ruby,” she said, hoping her shock wasn’t showing. As a fox, Vera wasn’t used to anything getting past her. And certainly not a creature like Ruby who had never been known to be subtle.
Ruby was watching her through the mesh of her little veiled hat. “I didn’t think you knew Reggie well enough to visit his grave so soon after the funeral.”
“Well, I didn’t,” Vera admitted. “I just came up here…for perspective, I guess.”
“I see.” Ruby nodded. “You don’t realize how precious life is until you lose someone, do you?”
“I suppose not.” Vera wondered if Ruby had a specific reason for coming to the graveyard. Had she been following Vera? And if so, for how long?
But Ruby only looked down at the freshly turned dirt of the grave. Flowers would be planted soon, but now the ground was bare and ugly, like a scar. “I came to say goodbye to him without an audience.”
“Oh! Shall I leave?” Vera offered, expecting Ruby to say yes.
“You don’t need to.” The sheep sighed. “There’s no point in hiding anything now, is there?”
“Hiding?” Vera asked. Was Ruby about to confess something?
“I loved Reggie. I admit it! He loved me, too. He was going to leave Edith, you know. He promised we would start a new life together, somewhere else. He was saving money, keeping it from his wife’s prying eyes. He wanted to be sure we’d have enough to be comfortable. Oh, nothing made me happier than the thought of Reggie and me together!
“But then this happened.” Ruby sighed again, gesturing to the grave. “My dear Reggie, gone! I can never see him again, or talk to him, or be with him…” She sniffed loudly.
“I’m…sorry,” Vera said. She was unsure of the etiquette when offering condolences to a mistress.
Behind the veil, Ruby’s black eyes hardened. “She found out about us, I’m sure. Edith. She couldn’t stand the idea of him leaving her, so she did the one thing that would stop him. She killed him!”
“You’re saying Edith von Beaverpelt murdered her husband?” Vera asked quietly.
“Of course,” Ruby said contemptuously. “Think of it. She was in danger of losing her place as the town’s first lady. She would have been disgraced and left poor to boot. No, she knew she’d never convince Reggie to leave me. So she took her revenge. She was the one hovering by his bedside, feeding him poison bit by bit, weakening him for the final blow. Who else had a better opportunity? She had the run of the house and the office if she chose. She hated him at the end because he loved me more!”
“But what about Otto?” Vera asked, though she was troubled to admit that Ruby’s story did make a certain amount of sense.
“Poor Otto,” Ruby said. “She must have been practicing. To see how much poison a body could take. Otto wasn’t the high-powered captain of industry that Reggie was. Who would make a fuss if he died?”
“But Otto was also stabbed,” Vera pointed out. Who could forget? The memory of the toad being pulled to the shore of the pond, and the terrible revelation of the knife in his back…It had started all of this.
“Who can say what a beaver driven insane with jealousy might do? Let the police ask her what she was thinking. If they have the guts to arrest her! The police are always keen to accuse the powerless. When the upper crust misbehaves—oh, it’s a different matter then.”
“I’m sure the law treats everyone the same in Shady Hollow,” Vera said stiffly. Granted, the law usually did that by ignoring duty altogether and taking fishing trips every day. Chief Meade probably wouldn’t dare to arrest Edith. Would Orville?
Ruby laughed. “Oh, fox, you don’t have a clue. You wouldn’t know. Everyone respects you. The hard-working reporter from the big city! You haven’t been the gossip on every creature’s tongue. You haven’t been turned away at doors where every other creature is welcome.”
“Like at the von Beaverpelts’ last night?”
“It’s just more proof that she hates me and would do anything to hurt me. Even after she killed her own husband.”
“This is all fascinating, but there’s nothing to prove you innocent right now, either. You don’t have an alibi. For either death.”
“I was with Reggie when poor Otto died!” Ruby blurted out. “I didn’t tell the police before because I didn’t want to hurt Reggie’s name. But now it doesn’t matter, does it?”
Vera’s journalist heart sparked to life. “You were with von Beaverpelt that night?” She pulled out her notebook and pencil. “Where, exactly?”
“We used to meet in the woods because there was no place in town where we could be together.”
“I see,” Vera said, scribbling. “And where were you the day Reginald died?”
“I work at the nursing home, you know.” Ruby paused. “I was at work at the time Reggie died. Ask them and they’ll tell you.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know,” said Ruby. “I don’t think I can live here any longer. Not when I think of Reggie every day. I may go out west in the spring. It’s not too late to start fresh somewhere else.”
The sheep looked down at the grave again, and Vera took the cue to get out of the way. She left Ruby grieving on the hilltop. She now had a string of fresh allegations and a lot of work to do.