Bound for Murder, page 20
“Or maybe,” Richard said thoughtfully, “they were just trying to frighten you off. Like with that anonymous note sent to the library, and the graffiti sprayed on the wall and carved into the table. Perhaps it wasn’t meant to hurt you, but just to warn you.”
I gave him a nod as I realized the truth of his words. “That actually makes more sense, but why would anyone see me as that much of a threat? Sure, I’ve been helping Brad with some research and talking to a few of the former commune members, but I don’t feel like I know much more than the authorities do. So why specifically target me?”
“Someone thinks you know more than you actually do?”
“I guess so.” I threw back the covers. “Here, make yourself comfortable.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Richard said, flipping the sheets, blanket, and quilt back over his legs, before pulling the covers up to his waist. “A nap sounds like just the thing.”
“Not what I had in mind,” I said.
He shot me an amused glance. “I assumed you’d be exhausted …”
“That’s not what I meant either, so behave.” I patted the hand he’d laid on my thigh. “What I really need is to try to make sense of things. Do you mind helping me think out loud?”
“Of course not. Fire away.” He grimaced. “Sorry, bad choice of words. Let’s try this instead—share your theories, Sherlock.”
“I only wish I was that clever. But anyway, here’s what I know so far. First, Jeremy Adams left Taylorsford, if we believe Walt’s story about a phone call from the road and Emily Moore’s comment about Jeremy calling and giving her his phone number in LA. I mean, I suppose Jeremy could’ve called from anywhere, but he does seem to have left the immediate area. Even if he was hiding out somewhere close to Taylorsford, he apparently didn’t have any contact with anyone at the commune.”
“That they will admit,” Richard said.
“Right, we only have their word for it. But regardless, he left the farm and was away for a time, and then returned for some unknown reason. I doubt he’d have popped in for a visit after having ticked off most of the other commune members in some way. Not that soon, anyway. Which makes me think someone forced him to come back.”
“Maybe for a secret meeting? He apparently didn’t contact his family.”
“Right. The only proof of his return is that photo from the Heritage Festival.”
“And his body,” Richard said dryly.
“Yeah, that too.” I lifted my head from his shoulder and leaned back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. “The thing is, if he was trying to keep a low profile, why did he allow anyone to take a photograph? Or why would he even show up at the festival in the first place?”
“That is odd.” Richard absently caressed my shoulder as he too gazed upward. “If I had to speculate, I’d say it proves he wasn’t afraid to be seen around town. Which means he didn’t come back due to any wrongdoing on his part.”
“Nothing he thought of as wrong, anyway.” I gave Richard a sidelong glance. “Maybe he was returning to help a friend?”
“Or a lover. You told me he had a couple of those at the commune.”
“Yeah, Ruth Lee and Belinda Cannon, for sure.” I chewed my pinkie nail for a second. “I suppose it’s possible that Ruth contacted Jeremy and asked him to return, and he complied because he felt he owed her.”
When Richard turned to me, his eyes were sparkling with interest. “You mean she lured him back?”
He’s getting into the sleuthing in spite of himself, I thought with a little smile. “Well, she could’ve claimed she was pregnant. Or ill. Or maybe she told Jeremy she was in trouble with her drug dealer, and he returned to help her pay her debts or something.”
“Any of those things could’ve drawn him back, I suppose.”
“Yeah, but …” I twisted a strand of my hair around my finger. “She admitted she was angry when he left. Although I do think she truly loved him.”
Richard cast me a wry smile. “Love doesn’t always stop people from committing murder.”
“I know. It’s still possible, though, even if Ruth did call Jeremy back to Taylorsford, that someone else actually killed him.”
“True. It could’ve been connected to her drug use. Maybe Jeremy confronted her dealer and things took a violent turn.”
“Always a possibility.” I sat up and turned to face him. “I suppose you know that Kurt supplied drugs to some of the commune members.”
“Did he? I guess I’m not surprised.” As Richard stretched his legs out under the covers, he laid one leg over mine. “He’s been pretty open with me about how he got his start. And he’s a bit of a scoundrel, no question. But honestly, I doubt he’d ever kill anyone.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” I said, earning a sharp glance. “But I don’t know that he’d have had any reason to kill Jeremy. He told me he wasn’t the one who supplied Jeremy with the really hard stuff, so there was at least one other dealer in the picture.”
“Which is another person who might have contacted Jeremy and forced him to return. Perhaps he had to pay off some debts himself? If he owed money and skipped town, the dealer could’ve threatened his family unless he returned and paid up.”
“I think that’s Kurt’s current theory, to be honest.” I flopped back against my pillows. “But we shouldn’t forget the other suspects. From what I’ve heard, most of the commune members had believable motives to kill Jeremy.”
“Such as?”
“For starters, there’s still Ruth Lee. She was his lover, but he betrayed her. First with Belinda Cannon and then by leaving town.”
“So a crime of passion? But if we follow that lead, then why was she killed?”
“That doesn’t fit the theory, but playing devil’s advocate, that could’ve actually been a robbery gone wrong.”
“I don’t think you really believe that.”
I shrugged. “I’m not convinced, but I guess we can’t discount it entirely. Getting back to the other commune members, there’s also Dean Bodenheimer. Ruth thought he was furious because Jeremy reneged on a promise to include him in his band.”
Richard frowned. “Would someone kill over that?”
“It’s no stranger than other motives for murder we’ve encountered.”
“True. And Bodenheimer is still alive, which means he could also be Ruth’s killer.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t discount that,” I said. “The guy gave off some seriously bad vibes.”
Richard lifted his eyebrows. “Vibes? You’re really getting into this sixties stuff, aren’t you? Going to start reading auras next?”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, smart guy.” I made a face at him before settling back against my pillows. “Anyway, Bodenheimer definitely seemed to be hiding something, although it could be that he’s just a habitual liar.”
Richard wrinkled his brow. “At this point, it seems like it could’ve been any of them. Which is a little unnerving, especially since someone is obviously gunning for you.”
“Yeah, too many possibilities. I mean, there’s Pete O’Malley as well. He didn’t seem to have any particular beef with Jeremy, but according to everyone, including Pete, he was pretty strung out most of the time. And he supposedly has a temper. Maybe he lost control when he was high and struck Jeremy in a fit of anger.”
Richard rubbed at his jaw with the back of his hand. “Then there’s Emily Moore and that Stanley Owens guy. Although honestly, I can’t see Emily Moore as a suspect. Can you?”
“It seems unlikely, but she did lie when she told me she and Jeremy were just casual acquaintances. Even though I don’t entirely trust Dean Bodenheimer, I do think he was telling the truth when he contradicted that claim.”
“Maybe she was in love with him too?” Richard gave me a questioning look. “Could’ve been a love quadrangle instead of the typical triangle.”
“Hmmmm … I didn’t get that impression, but I’ve been wrong before.” I tapped his lower arm with my fingers. “You left out Belinda Cannon. She left the commune abruptly, then went missing from her home not long after Jeremy disappeared. Who’s to say she didn’t run away after murdering him?”
“And is now picking off the rest of the commune, one by one? Sorry, but that sounds too much like a Hitchcock film to me.”
“I know, but we have to keep her on the suspect list, along with Stanley Owens.”
Richard slapped his forehead with one hand. “Not another one. I thought he died in an accident.”
“I know, and given what the others have said about his timid personality, it does seem unlikely he’d kill anyone.” I twisted my lips as a thought occurred to me. “But Ruth told me he was in love with someone who rejected him. If that was someone Jeremy stole from him and then abandoned, Stan could’ve snapped and killed Jeremy for revenge. That might also explain the breakdown he suffered right before leaving the commune.”
“But he was dead long before Ruth was killed.”
“True, but we’ve established that Jeremy’s killer doesn’t necessarily have to be the same person who murdered Ruth.”
“Back to the robbery theory, then?”
“Could be, except there is something I find odd about Stan’s death.” I filled Richard in on both Ruth’s and Dean’s comments about Stanley Owens’s intense fear of heights. “I keep wondering—what was he doing on that footbridge?”
Richard exhaled a gusty sigh. “Don’t tell me you think he was murdered as well.”
“I think it’s a possibility. Which means … nothing, really. Even if he was murdered, it could be totally unrelated to the Jeremy Adams case. Being a lawyer, I’m sure he must’ve made enemies.” I pressed my palms against my temples. “And one more thing occurred to me. Maybe someone killed Jeremy by accident. It might have been manslaughter rather than murder, but then the commune covered it up.”
“Or Jeremy simply died by accident and they hid that?” Richard’s forehead furrowed in concentration.
“His head was bashed in.”
“Which could’ve happened in a bad fall, especially if he hit something like an anvil or rock.”
I sighed. “I hadn’t thought of that angle, but it would explain why everyone has been telling different stories and being secretive. Even P.J. and Carol.”
“You did tell me they seemed evasive when you spoke with them,” Richard said thoughtfully.
“Right. If Jeremy died accidentally, but it was somehow related to drug use and happened on their property, they might have covered it up to protect the commune.”
“This is quite a tangle. There are far too many possibilities.” Richard lifted my hands and clasped them in his warm fingers. “Which is why you should stop digging and allow Brad and the other investigators to do their work. You’ve helped enough.”
“Okay, but if someone is going to take potshots at me, I want to know why,” I said, allowing him to pull me into his arms. “I hate unsolved mysteries, you know.”
My ear, pressed against Richard’s chest, vibrated from his burst of laughter. “I know only too well,” he said, as I lifted my head to look up into his face. “I blame those.”
Following his pointed finger, my gaze landed on the collection of old Nancy Drew titles that filled the lower shelf of a white bookcase.
“Oh now, you can’t blame poor Nancy,” I said, laying my head back on his chest. “I was terribly inquisitive long before I picked up one of those stories. Just ask my parents.”
“No need, I believe you.” Richard tipped up my chin with one finger. “You are quite a bit more adventurous than the usual librarian.”
“Hold on,” I said. “You can’t prove that. First, I don’t think you know that many librarians, and second, lots of librarians are quite adventurous, and third”—I took a deep breath—“while I do like to solve mysteries, it’s not like I’m some wild woman, always seeking thrills.”
Richard tapped my lips with two fingers. “Now that I can dispute. At least in some areas.” He grinned. “Fortunately for me.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I finally received my interlibrary loan copy of Emily Moore’s first book of poetry on Thursday, but we were so busy at the library that I decided I’d have to check the contents later. As I shoved the large manila envelope under my purse on a shelf in the workroom, Sunny poked her head around the door and asked me to come out to the desk to help one of our elderly patrons, Carter Scott, who was conducting ongoing research about the history of the churches in Taylorsford.
“What was that ILL, anyway?” she asked, after we’d guided Mr. Scott to the proper resources. “It didn’t feel like a book.”
“It isn’t. No one would lend the actual book,” I said, searching the desk computer to see if I could find any online information to share with Mr. Scott. “It’s photocopies of the poetry from Emily Moore’s first book. The one I couldn’t buy, remember?”
“Oh right. The rare one.” Sunny absently twirled her bangle bracelet around her wrist. “But at least you found a library that would help.”
“I didn’t ask them to copy the illustrations—that would’ve been too much trouble. But they were happy to provide photocopies of the pages containing the poems.” I glanced up to meet Sunny’s inquisitive gaze. “I want to be able to introduce Ms. Moore properly when she does her reading here in a few weeks. I thought it would be nice to reference her earliest poems as well as the later ones.”
“Makes sense.” As if suddenly aware of her fidgeting, Sunny pressed her palms against the top of the circulation desk. “By the way, Dan told me something yesterday. It’s an interesting tidbit he uncovered in the course of his investigations.”
“What’s that?” I asked, closing down my search. I already had a page of jotted notes that I planned to share with Mr. Scott. Knowing how some people shut down when presented with too much information all at once, I didn’t want to overwhelm him before he had a chance to assimilate any information he’d found on his own.
“Dan says that a couple of sources told him Stanley Owens—the guy from the commune who died in that fall—was supposedly in love with Belinda Cannon, but it was unrequited. Belinda only had eyes for Jeremy.”
“Really?” I recalled Ruth’s words about Stan’s unfortunate love affair. So the object of his affection was Belinda Cannon. Definitely one of Jeremy Adams’s lovers. Interesting.
“Yes, and that he basically had a breakdown right before the commune dissolved. That was after Jeremy left, of course.”
I didn’t tell Sunny that I’d already heard this from Ruth, or that it was information I’d already shared with Brad. “I’m not sure what that has to do with the missing-persons cases, though.”
“Well, Dan thinks that maybe Stan killed Jeremy because he was jealous or something. You know, a crime of passion. Then Stan was overcome with guilt. Thus the breakdown.”
“Not so overcome that he confessed,” I said. “And Stan’s death is also a bit questionable, don’t you think? Ruth Lee and Dean Bodenheimer both mentioned his fear of heights.”
Sunny frowned. “I remember you telling me that. Which does make it weird for him to be on that footbridge. Unless it was a suicide. Maybe the guilt finally overwhelmed him.”
“That seems an odd way to go, when he was so afraid of falling. You’d think he’d pick another method. And then there’s the fact that he was already dead when Ruth was killed, so he couldn’t have had anything to do with that.” I gave Sunny a side-eyed glance. “I believe Dan’s theory is wrong, at least in this instance. It seems to me more likely that Stan was killed because he knew too much, just like Ruth. He could’ve easily been aware of the dealers who supplied Jeremy with drugs.”
Sunny slipped her bracelet off and rubbed her wrist. “So you think Stan might’ve known something about Jeremy’s death but kept quiet for some reason?”
“Yeah, maybe because confessing would’ve implicated him? I mean, if it involved buying or selling drugs, Stan could’ve been in a lot of trouble, especially back in those days. Or maybe”—I rapped my fingers against the top of the circulation desk—“Stanley Owens was scared to talk because he knew it would put his own life in jeopardy. But, after all these years, he just couldn’t deal with hiding the truth anymore, no matter the cost. Ruth told me that he seemed to be suffering from guilt when they bonded after Jeremy left the commune. Maybe, later in life, Stan finally had enough of keeping a terrible secret and planned to tell the authorities what he knew about Jeremy’s death.”
“And you think if the actual killer got wind of that somehow, Stan could’ve been murdered in a way to make it look like an accident?” Sunny asked.
“Yes, and then the killer murdered Ruth when she threatened to talk after Jeremy’s body was found. That upped the ante and made the killer take a risk, shooting Ruth instead of taking the time to try to stage another accident, like he or she did with Stan.”
Sunny looked thoughtful. “Because without the body it was still a missing-persons case, but with it—especially given the way Jeremy died—it became a murder?”
“Right. And there’s no statute of limitations on prosecuting a murder.”
Lines furrowed Sunny’s brow. “But if someone is killing people who might know anything about Jeremy’s death …” She bit her lip and cast me a worried glance. “The grands could be in danger.”
“You really think they do know something?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Sunny shoved her long hair behind her ears with both hands, then kept her palms pressed to her temples as if trying to contain her thoughts. “They continue to give me evasive answers when I ask direct questions about that time. It’s gotten worse since Ruth Lee’s death, and frankly, I’m unsure about everything now.”
I mustered up a smile that I hoped didn’t look as forced as it felt. “You know they didn’t murder anyone.”
“But what if they covered up a crime? I could see them doing something like that, if it would protect their other friends, or the commune.” Sunny dropped her hands to her sides. “They don’t really trust the legal system or any civil authorities, even now, and they were more radical back in the sixties.”
