The Falls: County Fair (The Falls small town mystery series Book 18) Read online

  The senior year of high school however, Hezekiah and Benjamin both became enamored with the cute and perky Mary Lou Johnson from Brown Bear Junction. After a long, arduous and rather tumultuous courtship where both young men vigorously pursued Mary Lou, Benjamin had finally won her heart and married her. Hezekiah never forgave Benjamin. Their friendship soured and died. From that moment on, the two families began to drift apart.

  Over the years a series of unintentional slights, affronts and hurt feelings turned ugly. After several years, the two families were at the point of at times ignoring each other, and at other times hurling hurtful insults at each other and even purposely trying to turn others in their communities against the other family. The most telling blow happened just three winters ago when a Clancy had accused a Pritchard of stealing and angrily called Sheriff Cash Green into arrest the offending party. The robbery could never be proved, but the event simply set the simmering pot of emotions between the two families into a fast and nasty boil.

  Monty took a deep breath and glanced back out at the field. This year it would be different. This year his pumpkins and squashes would be the hit of the county fair and he would bring home blue ribbons. He grinned as he dreamed it out in his head.

  “Hey Monty,” the voice made him turn. It was his brother Aaron picking his way carefully through the pumpkin and squash vines as he made his way toward him. Monty turned and glanced at Aaron. His brother, at fifteen, was two years younger than him and unlike Monty, who took after his dad with dark, thick hair and brown eyes, Aaron had blond curly hair and pale blue eyes like his mom, Andrea.

  On this day, however, Aaron’s eyes seemed oddly troubled as he stared uneasily at his big brother. For some reason, Monty began to feel a bit concerned without really knowing why. It was sort of like waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Yeah? What’s going on?” Monty asked, beginning to wonder what was up with his usually happy sibling.

  Chapter Two

  The climb up the mountain was more of a challenge than Cash had anticipated. After Yamato and Cash had picked Doc up at his office, they drove their Jeep Liberty cruiser as far up the mountain as the old logging roads would allow. From that point, there was still a long climb on foot through steep ravines, over rocky ledges and along winding trails before the three of them reached the ravine where Jabot Moore was waiting for them.

  Cash stood at the edge of the thirty-foot drop, hands on his knees, and peered down into the shadows. He stayed that way for several long moments, not only trying to make out more clearly the motionless and silent shape below on the rocks, but with his chest heaving and his body shaking from exhaustion as he tried to catch his breath. Doc and Yamato pretended not to notice his obvious discomfort, fully aware of how proud and hardheaded the sheriff of West Sugar Shack Falls could be. He was also their dear friend, and they wouldn’t for the world cause him any embarrassment.

  Jabot Moore, on the other hand, had no such compulsion. As he glanced around at the three of them, a curious and somewhat impatient expression passed across his grizzled face. He had, after all, been waiting for an hour for them to reach him after he had called the Doc with the startling news of what he had found. Rather impatiently he asked, “Well, whatcha’ gonna’ do, sheriff? You need me to stick around or what?”

  Yamato glanced at Doc meaningfully then turned and quickly caught Jabot’s eye. She flashed a big smile and took out her notebook, taking Jabot’s arm and leading him a few feet away. “Mr. Moore, we want to thank you for alerting Doc and for waiting for us. We sure do appreciate it. You’re to be commended for your outstanding civic duty as well. Why don’t you step over here and tell me all about how you found the body, if you don’t mind.”

  At that same time, Doc moved a bit closer to Cash, joining him in staring down into the ravine and whispered confidentially, “Take a minute. Catch your breath. You’re still getting over a serious injury and your body’s telling you something. Listen to it.”

  Cash took a deep breath and growled in reply, “My body isn’t just telling me something, Doc. It’s screaming bloody murder at me. As much as I hate doing it, I have to admit you’re right. I’ve got to take it easy for a little while.”

  Cash straightened up slowly, the color staring to return to his ashen-hued face. His eyes were still squarely focused on the body, however, and his resourceful mind was already working. “Yamato brought her climbing gear. As soon as Yamato gets done with Jabot, I’m going to have her lower herself down in the gully, attach a rope around whoever’s down there and you and I will pull the body out.”

  Doc turned, his left eyebrow raised in disapproval and glared at Cash. The sheriff, well aware of Doc’s feelings on the matter quickly added holding up his hands in a gesture of supplication, “The emphasis on you doing most of the hauling. I’ll just help.”

  Appeased for the moment, Doc turned to glance over in the direction of Yamato questioning the old woodsman. Cash, beginning to recover his breath, started scanning the area for any clues that might tell them more about what might have happened. As he stared harder at the dirt and leaf-covered ground, he noticed that there were several fairly fresh tracks around the edge of the ravine. Intrigued, he took out the crime scene camera from the small pack he carried over his shoulder and moved closer to size up the prints. As he took snapshot after snapshot, he noticed that it was obvious the prints came in several different sizes. After glancing over and checking out Jabot’s boots, Cash could make out the hunter’s footprints where he had evidently walked over and peered over the edge of the ledge. The sheriff could also make out Yamato’s, Doc’s and his own footprints as well scattered around the ledge. His eyes narrowed somewhat as he made out a smaller set of prints. From the size, they looked as though either a very small adult, or possibly even a teenager had made them. Cash knelt down and carefully placed the small wooden ruler he always carried in his pack right next to the footprint, to get a comparative size for later on should they need it, and snapped several more digital pictures.

  Yamato walked back over and glanced at her boss, stuffing her notebook in her jacket pocket. She immediately noticed that he was absorbed with capturing the footprints in photographs and glanced around quickly at those next to the edge of the ravine. Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, “Jabot was out checking deer trails and excrement, getting a good idea where they’d be come hunting season. He also checked out his tree stand. He told me that he stopped to watch a doe that was making her way slowly up the ravine. The doe suddenly stopped dead, her ears alert, then she turned, flashed her tail in warning and bounded off in the direction she had come.”

  Cash nodded and turned to glance at Yamato. Their eyes met and she continued. “He thought she had caught wind of him, which seemed funny to him because the direction of breeze was all wrong for her to smell his scent. Then he glanced down, spotted the body and realized that was what had spooked the deer.” She shrugged and began glancing around the area once more, “He immediately called Doc, ‘cause he wasn’t sure if the person was dead or alive. He didn’t see anybody else, and he didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. He waited here ‘til we arrived.”

  Cash stood back up and nodded. He smiled and winked good-naturedly at Yamato as he asked, “Well, you ready to climb down there Partner? Time for you to show off that rock climbing expertise you’re always saying I should get as well.”

  Yamato grinned back, her eyes twinkling now as see saw the Cash she had come to know and believe in back and ready to go. “Yup! That’s a big A-Okay, boss! Have rope, will climb!” She walked over to where she had dropped her climbing gear and began to suit up.

  Cash shuffled through the dead leaves to where Jabot was standing and waiting. He glanced at Jabot with a sincere smile, “Thanks Jabot. We’ll let you know if we need anything else. For now, you’re free to go. We appreciate your help.”

  The grizzled woodsman nodded and then rubbed his stubbly beard. His green eyes met Cash’s gray ones. “Ah, say, mind if I stay and watch what you do, sheriff?” He grinned, showing several teeth in dire need of a dentist. “I ain’t never watched a police operation before, ‘cept on TV. I’ll stay out of the way, I promise.” His eyes looked so eager and hopeful, Cash just smiled and nodded, adding, “Sure, Jabot. You’re more than welcome to stay.”

  Yamato was ready to descend. Doc and Cash wound the climbing rope around a thick, stout pine and then grabbed hold of the end. Within a minute, the deputy was on the rocky floor of the ravine and kneeling over the body. She gently checked the pulse in the wrist and neck and glanced back up at Doc. “No pulse Doc, and…” Her voice trailed off for a moment, and Doc and Cash leaned out over the edge expectantly. She glanced back up, her eyes narrowed and solemn, “It’s Lewis Clancy. He’s been shot.”

  Doc and Cash immediately glanced at each other and then stared back down at the body. As they did a sudden gust of cool September wind swirled the dead leaves up and around inside the ravine, creating a small churning whirlwind that almost at once died down and disappeared. But the body lying awkwardly on the ground still remained.

  ***

  “I have no idea where your good pen is, unless it’s on top of your writing desk where you usually keep it,” Serafina called out to William from the upstairs bedroom. William, who had been running around the house like a chicken with it’s head cut off looking for the pen, stopped and headed for the study. Sure enough, there was his pen, sitting on the top of his desk, right beside the monitor. He instantly relaxed.

  William took a deep breath to calm himself down and smiled, shaking his head over his needless concern. He tucked the pen into the inside pocket of his suit coat and immediately patted it reassuringly. The memory of the day his father had given him that pen washed over him.

  He had
been twenty-one and fresh out of college, off to make his way in the world, about to fly off to New York and begin what he hoped would be a fabulous and honor laden writing career. He had just gotten a starter job with a fledgling magazine, The Gotham Literary Gazette, and he had already begun gathering notes for his first mystery novel, which he would write after hours. His brother, the newly hired principal of the elementary school and his ailing but still stubbornly managing father had taken him to the airport in Burlington. Boarding for his flight had just been announced over the loudspeaker when his father pulled a small thin box out of his pocket and handed it to him.

  “Here,” his dad had said gruffly, shoving the box into his hands, “this is for you. If you’re bound and determined to go off and become a famous writer, you’ll need a good pen. A pen that you won’t be ashamed to use in front of important people. A pen that says that it’s owner is someone special. And you are special, son. You are special and don’t you ever forget it.” His dad had stood there, looking at him while William stopped and stared at his dad in complete and utter surprise. His father gave out compliments about as regularly as Shirley Meacham’s old male pet goose Montrose laid golden eggs.

  Now his dad had never used a typewriter, let alone a computer. So he had simply assumed that real writers wrote mostly with pen or pencil, like he did when he occasionally found need to write something down. His dad was an old Vermonter, a creature of another age and generation. He was hard-core old school. So the gift of an expensive ink pen, to him, was the ultimate gift for a new writer.

  William had glanced down at the present as he unwrapped it with shaky hands. It was beautiful, easily the most expensive, classically styled fountain pen he’d ever seen. On the side, etched in a flourishing gold script was his full name: William Mycroft Frasier. William looked back up into his father’s eyes and saw the shimmer of unshed tears. For one of the few times in his life, he had rushed forward and hugged his dad tightly, almost desperately for several long moments. Then his father gently whispered, “It’d be a shame if you missed your flight son.”

  William smiled at the memory, his cheeks flushing slightly at the amazing feeling he could still remember from that day years and years ago. His dad had been gone a number of years now. He had died quietly one night when William was still struggling to make a name for himself in the fast paced New York literary scene. This pen and that touching scene at the airport was the last memory he had of his dad. William had always felt terrible that his father had died without his youngest son there able to say a proper goodbye.

  He turned as Serafina entered the room, all smiles and joyfully twirling around to best show off the new dress she had bought for the occasion. Her eyes lit up as she saw him and she stood on tiptoe at the end of the twirl to kiss him delightedly on the cheek. As she stood back and smiled once again, she noticed the flush on his cheeks. Recognition twinkled in her eyes as she reached forward and hugged him tight. “I guess you found the pen, then?” she asked giving him a tender squeeze.

  William had told her the story of the pen and his dad and she had heard him tell it to others at least a dozen times over the years. It was one of his dearest and most fragile memories and she knew how much it meant to him. She stepped back a bit and grinned lovingly as she asked, “So, are we ready to go? I’ve packed everything you set out and the bags are by the door. The neighbors will pick up the mail and paper and I’ve set the timers on a downstairs and upstairs lamp.”

  William took a deep breath and gazed into her beautiful eyes as he replied, “Yup! All ready! The doors are all locked, the garage is locked and I’ll set the security alarm as we leave.” He quickly checked his watch. “And Sean…”

  A car horn interrupted him as it sounded in a short, sweet beep out front and William grinned and shrugged, “…is obviously here to drive us to the airport!” Sean was coming with them. He had done the unheard of for him: he had taken three full days off from West Sugar Shack Elementary just so he could be there and watch his brother get his prestigious award on his gala night in New York City. William’s heart was full. With his wife and is brother there next to him, what a night it would be!

  Impulsively, Serafina pulled him close and gazed deeply into his eyes, her own eyes suddenly filled with a truly fierce love and pride, “I just want you to know how proud I am of you, William Mycroft Frasier. Proud of what you write and more importantly who you are and who we are together. I love you with all my heart and I always will!”

  There it was again, William mused. His full name. Written on the pen his father had given him and now uttered by his dear wife. He couldn’t be happier. His heart swelled as he held her close, kissed her deeply and whispered, “And I’m just as proud of you and who we are together, My Love. Always remember that, no matter how badly I screw up at times!”

  Then he grinned and giggled almost like a little kid, “Now let’s get out to the car before my brother gets impatient and starts honking that horn so loudly that the neighbors will complain!”

  Serafina chuckled, knowing that would be exactly what Sean would do if they didn’t get a move on and out to the car when he thought they should. Hand in hand, they walked to the front door and out onto the front porch. They waved to Sean who grinned and waved back as he quickly climbed out of the car to help load the bags. As William set the alarm and locked the door, he couldn’t help but gently pat the pen that was securely stored away in his jacket pocket once more.

  His dad would have been proud, he thought as a tear slipped down his cheek. Then he quickly wiped it away and turned to grin at his beautiful wife and delighted older brother who were there, waiting just for him. Look out New York City, here we come!

  ***

  The recovered dead body lay a few feet away from the edge of the steep ravine. Doc took his time with the preliminary examination. Down below them, they could hear the EMTs making their way through the dead leaves on the ground trudging up through the trees and undergrowth, bringing a body board up with them to carry poor Lewis Clancy down to the waiting emergency vehicle.

  “A single shot, looks like it might have been from a hunting rifle,” Doc spoke quietly, solemnly as he poked and prodded, looking for any other signs of violence. He turned to Cash and Yamato, his eyes stern yet compassionate. “Looks like he was shot in the back. The bullet went through the lungs and nicked major blood vessels. Thankfully, it looks as though he bled out quickly.”

  Cash nodded, showing the proper somber respect. Then he glanced at Doc and asked the million-dollar question, “Does it look like murder or a hunting accident Doc?”

  Doc shook his head and glanced down at Lewis Clancy’s stiffened body, “No way of knowing, Cash. You know that. I won’t ever know that. Only time will tell what you find out and from whom.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I figured I’d ask anyway,” Cash rubbed his chin and sighed. He stared down at the body as if the stiffening corpse could speak to him. Getting no definitive answers, he shook his head, glanced around the forest and finally looked back down at the footprints still evident around the edge of the ravine. His piercing gray eyes narrowed as he almost whispered, “Seems like what we need to find out first is who else was here with him, Yamato. That person or persons might be able to give us some answers.”

  Yamato nodded her head slightly as she finished securing her climbing gear. Then she stood up and turned toward Cash, pointing down at the footprints that had been left and offering solemnly, “Could be. Especially if that somebody happens to be a teenager, boss.”

  Doc stood up and pulled off the examination gloves, sticking them in a zip lock disposal container from his medical bag. “Well, the Clancy’s are known to tromp around these woods on a regular basis. They hunt and eat just about any kind of game and all of them learn to shoot as soon as they’re able to spit the pacifier out of their mouths. They spend almost as much time up here as they do down on their farm. Least that’s what they always tell me.”

  He waved at the EMTs as the four of them slowly made their way up the steep mountain trail. They waved back and Doc could hear them quietly exchange a few words as they changed direction a bit and headed up toward Doc and the waiting body. Doc glanced over at Cash and Yamato and declared, “They should have him out of the woods and over to the hospital in an hour or less. Then we’ll see if there’s anything else old Lewis’ body can tell us.”