Edna went straight to the computer when she got home. Russ’s obituary was the place to start her search about his life. She had to know more.
Search results on the computer provided a website reference to an Ellet High reunion web page, but it was the wrong year. She needed 1965 not 1968.
Edna remembered her newspaper days when she got plenty of oddball requests in the library. Perhaps the Akron Beacon Journal librarian would be as sympathetic as she had been.
“I know this is an extraordinary request, but it might be part of a murder investigation,” she said to the librarian.
“I’m one step ahead of you. I keep a clip file of all these reunion notices. You wouldn’t believe how many people ask me about reunions. Wait, here it is. Our electronic archives didn’t start until about three years ago. This one is from March 2005. ‘A July reunion is planned. Contact Roy Brown, 330-375-2420.’”
After Edna hung up, she called Brown.
“I’ll help any way I can. Russ and I served in ’Nam together. We’re all just sick about his death,” Brown said. “I can send you two yearbooks. I’d like to have them back, though. One is from ’65 and the other from ’64, when we were juniors. I don’t know how else to help. B.J. was in the class behind us, so I didn’t know much about her. She was a cutie, a real knock out, if I recall. The guys squabbled about her more than once. It was a shame about her death, too.”
Edna promised to return the yearbooks and pay the overnight shipping fee. Paul came in just as she closed her cell phone.
“What did you have to do that was so important?” he asked.
“Some snooping, if you must know. I want to find out more about Russ’s life.”
“The police think I’m already involved somehow, and if you get into it, who knows what will happen.”
“Don’t worry. I just want to satisfy my own curiosity.”
Paul wrinkled his forehead, a look Edna took for disapproval, or maybe he was just hungry.
While Edna was making lunch, she was thinking about the people at the garden. Yesterday, they did their best to cope with the stress, each one coping a different way.
Charly coped by pulling a huge pile of weeds without stopping. She pulled them so intensely that the pile was twice as big as normal. She was in great shape physically from working out at the gym three times a week. Mentally, she was rebuilding her life as a recent widow, which was taking longer than the physical shape up.
Betty did her usual weeding and watering in the Peace Garden. She was quiet and rather inward before she and Jack started dating. She’d been separated from her husband for many years. He had thought Florida summers were too hot and moved back to the Boston area, but she loved the weather and stayed alone.
When Jack started volunteering, he followed Betty to learn a few plants and quickly became her devotee. She grinned like a fifteen year old when she caught him watching her from the Cactus Garden.
Jack spent every Wednesday and Saturday in the Cactus Garden. All the other gardeners were thrilled to have him there. Missy and Betty flatly refused to go near the spiked succulents. Some of the cacti were ten feet tall. Others were six inches high. One mammoth succulent sprawled around a palm and hugged it with a grizzly embrace.
Missy seemed to be doing the worst of all. She must have loved Russ, but maybe she never told him. Everyone tended the plants through a fog of grief that covered the area.
If the police had a suspect or some evidence to focus on, none of the gardeners knew about it. Edna was convinced that robbery was never the motive. The money, a robbery, and a murder--it all spun around in her head. Edna wondered if Jack put the money in the shed at all. The sheds weren’t very sturdy. In fact, Edna thought they were in such sorry shape that she was afraid to lean on them to get grass out of her shoes.
“Maybe Jack was planning on stealing the money and hid it in the pond to get later. Betty trusted him to put the money away, while she said she sat in the car,” Edna thought.
Someone rang the doorbell, and the dogs started a battery of barking until Edna bribed them with dog cookies to stay in the spare room.
“Edna, we need to have a word with your husband,” said Detective Brumbaugh.
“Again?”
“We need to speak with Mr. Cameron. Is he here?” Miori said.
Paul had heard the dogs and came in behind Edna.
“Your wife can pick you up at the station. You can call her after we have your formal statement,” Brumbaugh said.
“Station? Statements? What’s this?” Edna asked.
“Dear, I’ll call you later. It’s OK,” Paul said.
“OK? No, it is not at all OK.”
The detectives took Paul in their car.
Edna remembered the weed killer argument. Missy must have convinced the police that it was more than a misunderstanding. Paul was now the fly trapped in the spider web.
Search results on the computer provided a website reference to an Ellet High reunion web page, but it was the wrong year. She needed 1965 not 1968.
Edna remembered her newspaper days when she got plenty of oddball requests in the library. Perhaps the Akron Beacon Journal librarian would be as sympathetic as she had been.
“I know this is an extraordinary request, but it might be part of a murder investigation,” she said to the librarian.
“I’m one step ahead of you. I keep a clip file of all these reunion notices. You wouldn’t believe how many people ask me about reunions. Wait, here it is. Our electronic archives didn’t start until about three years ago. This one is from March 2005. ‘A July reunion is planned. Contact Roy Brown, 330-375-2420.’”
After Edna hung up, she called Brown.
“I’ll help any way I can. Russ and I served in ’Nam together. We’re all just sick about his death,” Brown said. “I can send you two yearbooks. I’d like to have them back, though. One is from ’65 and the other from ’64, when we were juniors. I don’t know how else to help. B.J. was in the class behind us, so I didn’t know much about her. She was a cutie, a real knock out, if I recall. The guys squabbled about her more than once. It was a shame about her death, too.”
Edna promised to return the yearbooks and pay the overnight shipping fee. Paul came in just as she closed her cell phone.
“What did you have to do that was so important?” he asked.
“Some snooping, if you must know. I want to find out more about Russ’s life.”
“The police think I’m already involved somehow, and if you get into it, who knows what will happen.”
“Don’t worry. I just want to satisfy my own curiosity.”
Paul wrinkled his forehead, a look Edna took for disapproval, or maybe he was just hungry.
While Edna was making lunch, she was thinking about the people at the garden. Yesterday, they did their best to cope with the stress, each one coping a different way.
Charly coped by pulling a huge pile of weeds without stopping. She pulled them so intensely that the pile was twice as big as normal. She was in great shape physically from working out at the gym three times a week. Mentally, she was rebuilding her life as a recent widow, which was taking longer than the physical shape up.
Betty did her usual weeding and watering in the Peace Garden. She was quiet and rather inward before she and Jack started dating. She’d been separated from her husband for many years. He had thought Florida summers were too hot and moved back to the Boston area, but she loved the weather and stayed alone.
When Jack started volunteering, he followed Betty to learn a few plants and quickly became her devotee. She grinned like a fifteen year old when she caught him watching her from the Cactus Garden.
Jack spent every Wednesday and Saturday in the Cactus Garden. All the other gardeners were thrilled to have him there. Missy and Betty flatly refused to go near the spiked succulents. Some of the cacti were ten feet tall. Others were six inches high. One mammoth succulent sprawled around a palm and hugged it with a grizzly embrace.
Missy seemed to be doing the worst of all. She must have loved Russ, but maybe she never told him. Everyone tended the plants through a fog of grief that covered the area.
If the police had a suspect or some evidence to focus on, none of the gardeners knew about it. Edna was convinced that robbery was never the motive. The money, a robbery, and a murder--it all spun around in her head. Edna wondered if Jack put the money in the shed at all. The sheds weren’t very sturdy. In fact, Edna thought they were in such sorry shape that she was afraid to lean on them to get grass out of her shoes.
“Maybe Jack was planning on stealing the money and hid it in the pond to get later. Betty trusted him to put the money away, while she said she sat in the car,” Edna thought.
Someone rang the doorbell, and the dogs started a battery of barking until Edna bribed them with dog cookies to stay in the spare room.
“Edna, we need to have a word with your husband,” said Detective Brumbaugh.
“Again?”
“We need to speak with Mr. Cameron. Is he here?” Miori said.
Paul had heard the dogs and came in behind Edna.
“Your wife can pick you up at the station. You can call her after we have your formal statement,” Brumbaugh said.
“Station? Statements? What’s this?” Edna asked.
“Dear, I’ll call you later. It’s OK,” Paul said.
“OK? No, it is not at all OK.”
The detectives took Paul in their car.
Edna remembered the weed killer argument. Missy must have convinced the police that it was more than a misunderstanding. Paul was now the fly trapped in the spider web.
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