License to Dill Page 8

  “I called Denise to let her know we were coming,” Aunt Judy said. “They’re still getting so many nosey parkers coming by that Gerald has had to block their driveway. She said he’ll watch for us.”

  “A shame they’ve had to go to such lengths.” Piper slowed as they approached the far edge of the dill field, the one she’d driven by with such pleasure in the past, and looked for the entrance, which sadly was no longer marked with an identifying sign or mailbox.

  “There,” Aunt Judy said, “right after the pine tree.”

  Piper turned in and drove up the graveled driveway, coming before long to a barricade of sawhorses. A hand-lettered sign proclaiming “Private!” hung from the center one. Gerald Standley was trotting toward them from the other side, and he waved, then lifted the sawhorses out of the way.

  “Will you ride up with us, Gerald?” Aunt Judy called as Piper pulled even with him.

  “No, go on ahead. My truck is just around the bend. I’ll set these back up and be right behind you.”

  Aunt Judy tsked quietly to herself as she raised her window, and Piper nodded silent agreement. How miserable to have to screen visitors to one’s home that way.

  They spotted Denise on the front porch as they drew near the house, and she waved toward an area on the right where Piper could park her car. As she and Aunt Judy climbed out, they saw Gerald’s truck pull into a spot closer to a large barn, a few yards away. Denise stepped off the porch and met them halfway as they made their way to the house.

  “Thank you so much for coming,” she said.

  Piper knew Denise was the same age as Gerald, in her late forties, but she could easily have passed for late thirties—on a good day. This, unfortunately, wasn’t one of those. Denise’s usually attractively curled, light brown hair was pulled back severely into a ponytail from which straggly wisps escaped. She hugged a bulky gray sweater around her, concealing an otherwise trim figure, and dark shadows beneath her eyes hinted at stress and sleepless nights. She’d added a swipe of color to her lips, but it did little to lighten the overall effect of gloom.

  “I wish we’d been able to come before this,” Aunt Judy said after giving Denise a fervent hug. “Frank and I just couldn’t get through for the longest time, either to call or to come by.”

  Denise sighed. “I know. It’s been a hassle for all of us.” She turned to Piper. “Miranda told me about talking to you today. I think she’s imposing, but why don’t we talk about it inside. I have coffee ready.”

  Piper and Aunt Judy followed Denise to the old but well-kept two-story house, crossing a wide veranda with a white-painted railing and a welcoming porch swing. Once inside, Denise waved them toward the living room while she fetched the coffee from the kitchen. Piper followed Aunt Judy to a flower-printed sofa, glancing around at a cheery, light-filled room that felt out of sync with the recent happenings. Photos of a smiling Miranda—from childhood to high school prom to graduation—sprinkled the tables and walls, and a silver-framed photo of Denise and Gerald on their wedding day held a central spot on the bookcase.

  “Here we are,” Denise said as she rejoined them, carrying a tray with steaming mugs. She handed them out, offering cream and sugar, then sank into a chair with a mug of her own. They heard steps on the porch, and Gerald stepped in and joined them. He took a chair near Denise after picking up the final coffee.

  “Glad you stopped by,” he said, taking a tentative sip. “Denise hasn’t had too many friends come to call.”

  “That’s what we wanted to talk to you about,” Aunt Judy said, setting down her mug on the low table before her. “At least, it’s one of the things. I just learned today—from Piper—what Leona Pennington said to you, Denise, and I want you to know that she absolutely doesn’t speak for all of us, even though she is club president. I, for one—and I know you’ll hear from more ladies—want you to stay active in the club.”

  Denise’s eyes filled for a moment before she blinked them clear. “Thank you, Judy. Leona has a point, though, hurtful as it seems. My showing up for club activities might be too disruptive right now.”

  “Poppycock! If the ladies of the Cloverdale Women’s Club can’t stand by one of their own at a time like this, then what use are we? We don’t exist simply to plant flowers around memorials. Our motto, for heaven’s sake, is ‘To make Cloverdale a better place to live.’ What better way to do that than by showing support to each other when it’s warranted?”

  “I’m afraid not everyone agrees that it’s warranted.” Gerald said it flatly but with a tightness around his lips. Denise reached out to gently squeeze his arm.

  “Well, anyone who knows you as well as we do won’t have an ounce of suspicion,” Aunt Judy insisted.

  “Thank you, Judy,” Denise said. “And thank you, too, Piper. I appreciate your coming along with your aunt to add encouragement. But please don’t feel you need to do anything more than that”—she smiled weakly—“despite my daughter’s pleas.”

  “I only promised Miranda to keep my eyes and ears open for whatever might come up.” Piper noticed Gerald frown at her mention of Miranda and wondered if it was because of their clash over Frederico. “Do you mind me asking a few questions? It could help me piece together any other bits of information I might learn.”

  “Go ahead,” Gerald said.

  “Who actually discovered Conti’s body?”

  “I did,” he said. “I was up earlier than usual, and once it was light enough I decided to check on the latest dill crop. I do continual plantings of dill, every two or three weeks as long as the weather holds out.”

  Piper nodded, remembering that Gerald had once explained that cycle to her.

  “I spotted something a few yards in,” Gerald went on. “Thought it was a dog at first and went over to see. It was a shock, I’ll tell you, when I realized it was a man. Then I got closer and saw it was him.” Gerald shook his head.

  “Conti’s car was at the edge of the road. How far was he from his car?”

  “Probably fifty yards or so. Coming from Judy and Frank’s place, you wouldn’t pass the part of the field where it happened. If you turn the other way on your way out, you’ll see the area that’s all trampled from the crime scene people.”

  Piper winced at the image of Gerald’s lovely dill being tramped down, but Gerald shrugged. Losing part of his dill crop was clearly the least of his worries.

  “You said you were up early. Did you hear anything during the night?”

  Gerald uncrossed his legs and shifted in his chair. Denise stared down at her coffee. “Actually,” Gerald said, “I didn’t sleep much that night at all. Had a lot of things on my mind that I couldn’t seem to shake. When that happens I usually go outside and walk around so I won’t wake Denise or Miranda. It was dark, so I stayed close to the house. But I did hear a shot. This is farm country, though. We hear shots now and then. I didn’t think much of it.”

  “What time was that?”

  “I’m guessing around one thirty, maybe one forty-five. That’s what I told the sheriff. He also asked if I went to investigate, which I didn’t. First of all, sound travels funny sometimes. You can’t always pinpoint the direction it comes from. Second of all, if someone’s out there shooting at a deer or something, I sure as heck don’t want to get in his way. I stayed where I was and went inside pretty soon.”

  “You didn’t hear voices?”

  “Nope.”

  Piper turned to Denise. “Did you hear anything?”

  Denise shook her head. “I’m a pretty sound sleeper. And as Gerald says, shots are so unremarkable around here that if one went off I probably wouldn’t stir.”

  “I’m sure the sheriff asked about any guns you might own,” Piper said, and both Gerald and Denise nodded.

  “They took the one rifle I have to compare it with the bullet in Conti. It didn’t match.” Gerald shifted uneasily again. �
�The problem is . . .”

  “Yes?”

  When Gerald didn’t answer right away, Denise explained for him. “We owned another gun, a .44 Special handed down from Gerald’s father. When the sheriff asked us to turn over all our firearms, we couldn’t find that one. It’s been years since we did anything with it, and we’d almost forgotten about it. We kept it in the house, originally. Then when Miranda was a toddler, I asked Gerald to put it somewhere safe in the barn, a place she couldn’t get to.”

  “And I did,” Gerald said. “But over the years I moved it around as needed until I eventually forgot all about it. I told the sheriff it probably was so rusted and dirty by now that it wouldn’t work anyway. But he didn’t like the idea that I couldn’t locate it. I don’t, either, come to that. I shouldn’t have been so careless about it, and I don’t like not knowing what happened to the thing.”

  Neither would Sheriff Carlyle, obviously, Piper thought. Which must be the reason he was unwilling to let Gerald off the hook. Looking at the faces of the others—including Aunt Judy—Piper could tell they were all thinking the same thing.

  “Would the bullets from your old gun have been the same caliber as the bullet that killed Raffaele Conti?”

  Denise and Gerald glanced at each other, the misery on both faces foretelling the answer. Then Gerald nodded.

  “Oh dear,” Aunt Judy said in a small voice, understating the large problem that created for Gerald Standley.

  It, however, was something Sheriff Carlyle would have to deal with. Piper’s problem at the moment was how to learn the source of Gerald’s lingering fury toward Conti. She’d just drawn a breath to ease her way into the subject, when light steps sounded outside on the veranda.

  The front door opened and Miranda flew in.

  “I was hoping that was your car. Great!” she said excitedly to Piper, looking convinced that now all would be well.

  Piper managed to smile but inwardly felt as though a fifty-pound weight had just been loaded on her back.

  11

  “Well,” Gerald said, rising from his chair, “I’ve got a few things to do in the barn. If there’s anything more you want to know, Piper, I’m sure Denise or Miranda can fill you in.”

  Piper nodded. That worked for her, since what she wanted to hear about—that past history with Raffaele Conti—might be easier to get from Denise without Gerald around. Piper hoped Gerald wasn’t leaving because of Miranda’s arrival, though. At a time like this, their small family needed to pull together, not get hung up on lesser disagreements.

  “So,” Miranda said, taking her father’s chair. “Did Daddy explain how he found Mr. Conti?”

  “He did. Did you hear the shot?”

  “No, I sure didn’t. Daddy said it was around one thirty. I was dead to the world then. Oops!” Miranda grimaced and rolled her eyes. “Bad choice of words, I guess. But that’s what I was. Cheerleading, plus being out most of the afternoon with Frederico . . .” She glanced at her mother at that, but Denise simply nodded. “Anyway, nothing woke me until I heard the sheriff’s car radio squawking. And he’d been here for a while by then.” She turned to Denise. “I still don’t understand why you didn’t wake me right away.”

  “There was no need,” Denise said. She paused. “And we didn’t want you to see . . .”

  “Mother! I’m not a child.”

  “Oh, Miranda,” Aunt Judy soothed. “No matter how grown-up a person is, you wouldn’t want a sight like that getting stuck in your head, believe me.”

  Miranda shrugged, disagreeing, but smiled politely at Aunt Judy. A soft trill sounded, and she reached into her pocket to check her phone. “Excuse me, I should take this.” She got up, and Piper heard Miranda’s voice fade as she made her way to the kitchen.

  “Denise,” Piper said, “would you mind explaining to me why Gerald held such hard feelings toward Raffaele for so long?”

  Denise drew in a deep breath, looking reluctant.

  “It’s important, or I wouldn’t ask.”

  “No, I understand. It’s just that I feel so stupid for what happened. My only excuse is that I was young.”

  “All of us have needed that excuse at one time or another,” Aunt Judy said. “Some longer than others.”

  Denise smiled. “If it will help Gerald, I can deal with it. By the time Raffaele Conti came to Cloverdale, Gerald and I had been dating for over a year. I was wearing his class ring, and though we both knew we were too young, we’d talked about marriage someday. Gerald, I knew, was head over heels for me, and I didn’t have eyes for any other boy—until Raffaele arrived.”

  Denise shifted in her chair and clutched at her gray cardigan, pulling it together more tightly. “Raffaele just plain dazzled me. He had movie star good looks, and that accent! Add to that a nearly irresistible charm—the kind we didn’t find in any local boys—and he had most of the girls falling at his feet. I did my best to keep my distance, but because he and Gerald both were on the soccer team it was just about impossible.”

  She cleared her throat. “It all started about the time that Gerald and most of the other players were furious because of Raffaele’s behavior on the team. Looking back, I really think Raffaele came after me as just another way to get to Gerald. Gerald had been pleading with Coach Anderson to be more fair and not let Raffaele take over the team like he was, and Raffaele seemed to glory in the fact that Gerald got nowhere with that. Stealing me away from Gerald was just one more way to rub his nose in the dirt.”

  Aunt Judy tsked. “Not a very nice boy.”

  “No,” Denise agreed. “Unfortunately I didn’t see it then. I broke up with Gerald, I’m ashamed to say, and started seeing Raffaele. I knew I’d hurt Gerald terribly, but that mattered less to me at the time than being the ‘chosen one’ of the boy all the females at the school were gushing over. Gerald, though, had pretty much figured out Raffaele’s true nature, and he tried desperately to get me to see it, too. When I wouldn’t, Gerald took to watching out for me.”

  Denise smiled ruefully. “Some might have called it stalking, but, if so, it was for all the right reasons. Gerald was genuinely worried about me. Luckily, as it turned out.”

  “What happened?” Piper asked.

  Denise sighed deeply. She looked toward the kitchen and, hearing the murmur of her daughter’s voice on her cell phone, went on.

  “It was the night of the prom. I went with Raffaele, and Gerald showed up with a couple of guy friends. He looked absolutely miserable—this was supposed to have been our big night, but I had ruined it for him. He could have stayed home, and nobody would have blamed him. But he donned a suit and put himself through the misery, all for my sake.

  “Of course, I was oblivious—or tried to be. I saw Gerald but was so taken up with my own floating-on-air feelings that I brushed any negative thoughts away. Raffaele and I were the center of admiring attention—Cinderella and Prince Charming—at least I thought so. Who knew that Prince Charming had sneaked in a flask of vodka and had been adding it to the cups of punch he kept bringing me so gallantly?”

  Denise shook her head. “Naïve, stupid me. I thought I was having a wonderful time. Every little joke became the funniest thing I’d ever heard! I’d never danced so well or had such a wonderful time! Of course, as the dance ended I’d never felt woozier, but I put it all down to the excitement of the evening.

  “Raffaele didn’t drive me straight home, but I didn’t even notice until he pulled into that dark, empty spot next to Warren’s Pond. That was the first I began to sense that all was not right. But I still convinced myself I could trust him, this Prince Charming who had taken me to the ball. He’d changed from that person, though. Even in the semidarkness I could see the expression on his face. I suddenly felt like a mouse cornered by a huge, feral cat.

  “No wasting of time to seduce me. He attacked. I screamed and fought, but I could tell, especially
in my state, that it would be useless. I’d never felt such fear in my life. Then, out of the blue, headlights blazed behind us. A car door slammed and in an instant Raffaele’s door was yanked open and he was dragged off of me. It was Gerald!

  “Gerald had kept up his vigilance, painful though it must have been, and followed us, knowing full well that if he was spotted he’d be ridiculed. He was concerned so much more for me than for himself. It didn’t take long to deal with Raffaele. He was a coward at heart and didn’t put up much of a fight. I quickly jumped into Gerald’s car and we drove off, me sobbing and Gerald fuming while at the same time trying to comfort me.”

  Denise paused to smile weakly. “I don’t know what my parents thought when I came home with Gerald instead of Raffaele. And it was past my curfew. But I needed time to calm down and patch up the damage. Plus apologize to Gerald, over and over. He, of course, blamed himself for not convincing me of what a rat Raffaele really was.”

  “You picked a good man,” Aunt Judy said.

  “I did, finally, and I’m so grateful he stood by me during my foolishness.”

  “You were seventeen,” Piper pointed out.

  “And so was he,” Denise said, smiling. “Thank goodness one of us had developed some maturity and sense by then.”

  “I suppose that’s why he’s worried about Miranda,” Piper said.

  Denise nodded. “I’ve tried to point out that Miranda is much smarter than I was, besides being a couple of years older. I haven’t gotten very far, though.”

  “Conti showing up unexpectedly after all these years must have been quite a jolt,” Piper said.