Digging Up the Remains Read online

  DIGGING UP THE REMAINS

  The three of them piled out of the car and went to the back to grab rakes and push brooms. Lilly took the broom and swept a few feet. The leaves came up and she pushed them to the side.

  “The broom works, and will be faster,” Lilly said. “I’ll do this end. Roddy—take the middle and Delia, take the other end. We want to clear it enough that a runner won’t slip, but let’s not obsess.”

  “What, me obsess?” Delia said. She gave Lilly one of her rare smiles and went to the end of the path. Roddy walked to the middle and started to push the leaves into one of the existing piles.

  Lilly started to sweep, exorcising her frustrations with Tyler Crane with each push of the broom.

  “Delia, call the police,” Roddy called out.

  “What’s the matter?” Lilly called to him, hustling over. Roddy stood up from the pile of leaves he was bent over and walked to Lilly, stopping her from getting too close.

  “It’s Tyler Crane,” Roddy said. “He’s under that pile of leaves.”

  “Is he—”

  Roddy nodded. “He’s dead . . .”

  Books by Julia Henry

  PRUNING THE DEAD

  TILLING THE TRUTH

  DIGGING UP THE REMAINS

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  DIGGING UP THE REMAINS

  A Garden Squad Mystery

  Julia Henry

  KENSINGTON BOOKS

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  DIGGING UP THE REMAINS

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  Gardening Tips

  Acknowledgments

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2020 by J.A. Hennrikus

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4967-1485-5

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-1486-2 (ebook)

  ISBN-10: 1-4967-1486-5 (ebook)

  To Courtney O’Connor

  Thank you for all the support you have

  given me on this journey

  CHAPTER 1

  “Lilly, I have bad news,” Delia Greenway said quietly, leaning in toward her friend Lilly Jayne so that others couldn’t overhear her.

  “Oh no, what now?” Lilly asked. Between unidentified 150-year-old skeletons in Alden Park, a 400th Goosebush Anniversary Planning Committee that had more tension than a tightrope, a reporter who had moved to town to dig up the Goosebush dirt, and the preparations for the Fall Festival, Lilly was on edge. She might have snapped a bit at her housemate, Delia Greenway, something she rarely did. She stopped raking and repositioned her garden hat on the top of her head so that she could see Delia more clearly.

  “Our 10K is 9.8 K,” Delia said solemnly.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake, is that all?” Lilly asked. She went back to raking the path and looked pointedly at Delia. “That’s the least of our problems. Could you go and get that tarp so we can bundle up these leaves?”

  “Lilly, if we tell people it’s a 10K, it should be 10K,” Delia said. The younger woman dragged the tarp closer so that Lilly could rake leaves on top of it. “People count on accuracy for these things.”

  “I wish Nicole had never suggested making this a timed event,” Lilly said. “The original idea was to have the Fall Festival be one weekend, get people to go around town on a Halloween stroll to look at our gardening projects, and to muster up support with a low-key event. But now?” Lilly dropped her rake and nodded to Delia, who picked up the other end of the tarp, folding it in half to help keep leaves inside it. The two women shuffled over to the truck parked in the middle of the path. Lilly nodded to Delia, letting her know that she was ready, and they swung the tarp up onto the back of the flatbed.

  While Delia wrestled with the tarp, emptying it on the truck without releasing the leaves, Lilly continued. “Now we have a two-weekend festival. Somehow, I got talked into having a haunted house on my front lawn and I’m raking leaves on this path every day so that a hundred runners don’t slip and slide on Saturday.”

  “More like three hundred and fifty-four runners, last I checked,” Delia said.

  Lilly glared at Delia and then took a breath. Being precise was one of Delia’s strengths, and what made her an excellent researcher. Her preciseness was a constant refrain, and since Delia lived with Lilly in Windward, Lilly’s large house, she dealt with it a lot. But Lilly tried not to show her impatience with Delia. Though they were almost forty years apart in age, Lilly considered Delia one of her dearest friends, and was grateful that Delia had decided to stay at Windward rather than move into an apartment this fall. The choice also suited Delia, or so it seemed.

  “Of course, most of them aren’t going to run,” Delia said as she shook the last few leaves onto the truck and folded the tarp over her arm. “I think a lot of folks signed up because it is going to be a fun way to go around Goosebush. And then there’s the T-shirts. Stan did a great job on the design, don’t you think? I bet people are going to be wearing them for years.”

  “They’re lovely,” Lilly said.

  “Anyway, I was thinking, if we don’t have runners down this path and they do the whole loop, it will be closer to 10K.” Delia laid the tarp down on the ground and picked up her rake again.

  “But then Cole Bosworth will have gotten his way, and we can’t have that,” Lilly said, starting to rake. Cole had a large house that abutted the path they were raking. He and his neighbors, Fritz Stewart, Cheryl Singleton, and Scott Forrest, had begun to consider the path theirs, even though it was owned and maintained by the town. Few people had realized it wasn’t a private way, and no one would have considered using it until Cole applied for a permit to extend his driveway onto the path so that he could build a bigger garage. Surveyors were sent out, property lines were established, and the use of the path came into question. When the board of selectmen denied him his permit, Cole threatened to sue, since no one had used the public egress for years. That’s when the Beautificatio
n Committee, the group who was overseeing the Fall Festival plans, decided to incorporate the path into the 10K so that it would get used. Actually, it was Lilly and Tamara O’Connor, Lilly’s best friend, who made the suggestion.

  “Yeah, Cole winning is not an ideal outcome,” Delia said. “I’m so sick of raking the leaves on this path. Where do they all come from?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if Cole weren’t dumping them,” Lilly said. “Notice how clean his yard is? That’s why we’re taking these leaves to the dump instead of putting them in the woods where he can get at them again.”

  “You don’t like him, do you?” Delia said.

  “I’m not particularly fond of him, no,” Lilly said. “He’s pretentious and a pain in the neck, not characteristics I admire.”

  “Would you like him better if he was from Goosebush?” Delia said. She continued to rake leaves, so she didn’t notice that Lilly had stopped and was staring at her.

  “What do you mean?” Lilly said.

  “He’s only lived in Goosebush for a few years,” Delia said.

  “Ten,” Lilly said. “I remember when the Clark house went on the market.”

  “Ten years. But he does sort of act like, like . . .”

  “Like he owns the place,” Lilly said.

  “Or he owns the history of it,” Delia said.

  Lilly started raking again. “He does take his familial history very seriously. Not that it isn’t impressive, mind you. Being related to one of the people who came over on the Mayflower.”

  “I guess,” Delia said. “But there are plenty of folks who have actually lived in Goosebush for a lot longer. His great-great-however-many-greats grandmother moved away from town in the 1800s. Your family has been here longer than that.”

  “How long we’ve been here really doesn’t matter,” Lilly said. “Stop smirking. It really doesn’t. What does matter is when you act like you own the place, but you don’t do anything to make it better. That’s why Cole bothers me. He contributes nothing but his opinion to the town. That doesn’t sit well with me. Back to your question. Would I like him better if he came from here? No, but I do have to wonder. If he’d lived here in Goosebush a bit longer, maybe he would understand about what matters and what doesn’t. What doesn’t matter, or shouldn’t? When your relatives got here. What does matter? Trying to take over a public path.”

  “And so we rake,” Delia said.

  “Just for a few more minutes,” Lilly said. “I promised I’d bring Ernie his truck back by three.”

  * * *

  “Are you sure I can’t help you with the leaves?” Delia asked Ernie. “I don’t mind making a run with you to the dump.”

  Ernie Johnson took the keys to his truck from Delia and put them in the front pocket of his Bits, Bolts & Bulbs apron. He took two bottles of water out of another pocket of his apron and handed one to each of the women.

  “The mulching and compost centers in the dump are open today, and I’ve roped some of the volunteers from the Beautification Committee to meet me there,” Ernie said. Ernie’s kind face broke into its normal state and a smile that enveloped his entire being broke out. Delia couldn’t help smiling back. “They’ve been doing clean-ups all over town, and we’ve been sorting the recyclables here. I already did a couple of runs earlier this morning, and they’ll meet me there. There’s plenty for them to do after school.”

  “After school?” Lilly asked.

  “Yeah, it won’t surprise you to know that the volunteers for the crunching and mulching duty are all under eighteen. Woodchipper duty is particularly popular. Don’t worry, I’m going to supervise. They’re great kids, it will be fine. But there is great joy in group mulching. They all cheer.”

  Lilly laughed. She loved that Warwick O’Connor had encouraged his teams to volunteer for the Beautification Committee and they’d all taken to it, contributing a lot of work. The Girl Scout troop had also provided invaluable energy.

  “Ernie, you won’t believe how many more leaves there were,” she said. She pulled the stool out from under one of the potting tables in the garden center of Ernie’s store. She held the cold bottle of water up against her forehead and closed her eyes. “Honestly, the truck is almost full. I don’t know where they’re coming from, the leaves, but we can’t seem to get ahead of them.”

  “I can imagine where they’re coming from,” Ernie said.

  “If they’re coming from Cole’s yard he must be storing them off-site, because his lawn is a pristine green. He doesn’t do that himself, does he?” Delia asked.

  “No, he has gardeners come in once a week. The Sayer brothers. I only know that because Herb buys a lot of his supplies from me. I give him a wholesale discount.”

  “That’s nice of you,” Delia said.

  “It’s good business,” Ernie said. “I’d rather they buy from me than a box store over in Marshton. Besides, when you order in bulk for people they tend to come back and pick up things they forgot to order. I’d rather be the supplier to folks here in Goosebush.”

  “Keep it local,” Lilly said, nodding her head. “The Sayer brothers do a great job, but I’m not surprised. Both of their parents were wonderful gardeners. Cole’s yard looks well-maintained, if impersonal. But that’s just my taste. I can’t stand a yard without a few garden beds strewn about.”

  “Yeah, the most gardening that Cole does is window boxes and he doesn’t even deal with those himself. He’s not what you’d call an enthusiastic outdoor person. I tried to talk him into buying some patio furniture for his backyard and he looked at me like I had three heads. ‘Why would I want to sit outside?’ he asked me with a concerned look, like he’d stepped in something. Honestly, I think he’s more of a condo guy, but he has to keep up appearances.”

  “Delia, perhaps we should engage the Sayer brothers to help put the front yard together after your haunted house next Saturday. They can lime the yard and get it ready for the winter at the same time they clean up from heaven knows what.”

  “Lilly, it’s going to be fun,” Ernie said.

  “Define fun,” Lilly said. “Costume-clad strangers trampling all over my yard does not sound like fun.”

  “Speaking of Saturday, Lilly needs a costume,” Delia said to Ernie, ignoring Lilly.

  “I am not going to wear a costume,” Lilly said.

  Ernie roared with laughter and walked over to a rack at the side of the greenhouse. “You may as well give it up now, Lilly,” he said. “We’re all wearing costumes, like it or not.” Lilly glared at him and Ernie laughed again. “Tell you what, I’ll save you a witch’s hat and you can call it a day.”

  “Are you casting aspersions on my character?” Lilly asked sternly, but with a smile.

  “Never,” he said, giving her a wink. “Delia, your plant order came in. Is this what you’re looking for?”

  Delia walked over to the rack of plants and took a look at each shelf. She was able to pull them out to get a better glimpse of some of the plants.

  “Perfect,” Delia said. “I was hoping to be able to grow these from seed, but I haven’t had much luck this fall. I waited too late and I’ve been so busy with everything I haven’t tended to them the way I should’ve. This is kind of cheating, I know. But I think a poison garden will be perfect as part of the second weekend of the Fall Festival and I need to deliver. These look beautiful. Thanks for helping me, Ernie. I’ll go home and get the Jeep so I can pick them up today and get them in the greenhouse.”

  “A poison garden?” Lilly asked. She walked over to the rack and looked at all the plants. “I’d forgotten you had that on the schedule. Where are you going to set the garden?”

  “PJ Frank is building me a flower box that looks like a coffin,” Delia said. “I haven’t decided how exactly I’ll use it, but it has holes in the bottom for drainage. I’m going to set it up on some cobblestones in the front yard during the haunted house, and do some sort of display. I may put them there, or do something else with the coffin and put
these on the side. Afterwards I’ll put them back in the greenhouse.”

  “And the coffin planter?” Ernie asked.

  “I’ll store it. You never know when we can reuse it,” Delia said.

  “Always good to have a coffin on hand,” Ernie said, smiling.

  “Exactly,” Delia said. “That’s why I had PJ build it, so it would last. These plants are really lovely, aren’t they? So hard to believe that they’re all so deadly.”

  “Or medicinal, if used correctly,” Ernie said.

  “True,” Delia said. She paused, and shook her head. People had tried to cross the line last summer. Delia felt compelled to rehabilitate the plants’ reputations. “Ernie, if you’re sure you don’t need me to help with the leaves, I’ll go home and get the car.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Lilly, do you want to come with me?”

  “No, you go ahead. I’ll visit with Ernie for a bit longer and then I’ll meander home.”

  “Don’t forget, we’re all having dinner at the Star tonight,” Delia said.

  “Of course I won’t forget,” Lilly said. But she had forgotten. Not that she would’ve forgotten completely, since she’d gotten into the habit of putting all of her appointments on her computer calendar and checking her phone before she did anything. Lilly didn’t blame age for her forgetfulness. She blamed too much going on in her life. She was busier now, in retirement, then she had been while she was working. But the busyness was her choice; her decision to rejoin her friends and the citizens of Goosebush. She might complain, but she wouldn’t want it any other way.

  Delia left and Ernie turned to Lilly. “Would you mind helping me with a project before you leave?” he asked her.