Fetch a Pail of Murder (We're Not Dead Yet Club Book 1) Read online

  What I heard instead was entirely unexpected.

  A low, breathy sound – almost like a steam train passing over a distant horizon. As I moved closer to it, a spill of light illuminated a slight clearing up ahead. In the middle of the clearing, collapsed against a small, stone well, Ida May clutched at her chest and gasped for breath as her face began to slowly turn purple. Her watering eyes stared up at me, pleadingly…

  Desperately…

  Giggling?

  I hesitated at the edge of the clearing as Ida May screwed up her face and pounded her hand against the well wall before gesturing wildly over in the direction of a nearby tree. Carefully, I took a step of two forward until I began to see what had her in such hysterics.

  There, her sweater caught in the spindly branches of a bush, Hazel thrashed back and forth on the ground, her legs in the air and her arms flailing with such vigor that I was almost afraid to come anywhere near her. As her eyes leveled on me, she seemed to relax and finally, I took a step forward and began to unweave the frayed wool from around the branches.

  “What happened?”

  “I’m not sure,” Hazel replied. “I think I lost my footing…”

  This prompted another loud cackle of laughter from Ida May. Taking several deep breaths, she finally managed to say:

  “She fell down a rabbit hole.”

  Ida May proceeded to fall about laughing, almost disappearing down the well that she was perched on.

  After a few minutes of careful untangling, I finally managed to free Hazel and helped her get to her feet. When Ida May eventually stopped laughing and obligatory argument about her lack of sympathy had passed, the three of us sat on the edge of the well, peering into the murky darkness beneath us.

  “How deep do you suppose it goes?”

  “Deep enough,” replied Ida May.

  Hazel seemed blissfully unaware of the well’s existence – she was too busy investigating the damage to her tattered sweater. “Do you think I can fix it?”

  “Fix it? You barely managed to make it in the first place.”

  Hazel shrugged and looked down into the black water.

  “This reminds me of when I was a child.”

  “Why? Didn’t you have running water back then?”

  I couldn’t help laughing. Hazel gave Ida May a stern look.

  “No, I mean we used to have a well like this back on the farm when I was growing up. Me and my brothers used to play this game where we’d try to jump over the gap without falling in.”

  “Did you?” I asked. “Fall in, I mean?”

  “Of course,” Hazel replied proudly. “That was the whole fun of it. If you didn’t fall in then there wasn’t really much point…”

  Ida May laughed. “What a childhood you must’ve had.”

  Hazel smiled and nodded, her mind drifting off somewhere else again. “It was really. I always liked being a child much better than being a grown up. Being an adult wasn’t much fun at all, was it?”

  Ida May shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

  We laughed – even Hazel joined us this time. I watched her peer down at the darkness once again and could tell that a flood of memories was gushing through that odd little mind of hers.

  “We used to throw pennies into the water,” she muttered wistfully. “My brother, John, he used to convince all the other kids that there were fairies living in our well and that, if they threw in their dollars, the fairies would grant wishes for them.” She paused and smiled. “He’d leave the pail just under the water and make the others drop their coins in precisely the right spot. Then, when our friends were gone, he’d pull it up and take the money.”

  She chuckled briefly before her smile slowly began to disappear as an unsettling memory returned.

  “Where is John?” I asked.

  “Oh, he died many years ago,” Hazel replied. “Not that any of us really miss him. He was never the same after he tried to hold up that bank in New Mexico…”

  She smiled again, only this one seemed less genuine. I half expected Ida May to make a comment, but she was too smart for that. Instead she sat staring at the ground as we all waited for someone else to lighten the mood. After a minute or so, I decided that person was going to be me.

  “I never tossed pennies into a well before.”

  Hazel’s face lit up in an instant. “Oh really? Not even as a child?”

  “Nope. I grew up in the city – no water wells.”

  “Doubt there were many pennies either,” piped up Ida May.

  “Oh, but that’s awful. You missed out on something wonderful…”

  Ida May shook her head, a curious smile stretching across her face.

  “What’s so special about tossing pennies into a well? A waste of money if you ask me…”

  “Oh no, it’s magical. It’s one of those things you have to experience once…”

  “It’s a waste of money, that’s what it is.”

  “Come on, Ida May, what’s a few pennies to girls as old as us, eh?”

  Hazel had a point. And besides, there something about her enthusiasm that gave me something of a rush – almost as though the magic of the well was beckoning me to join in. Before I even realized what I was doing, I had reached into my pocket and produced three coins. I passed one to each of the others and turned towards the well, feeling Hazel step excitedly beside me.

  Ida May raised an eyebrow, staring down at the penny in her hand.

  “You gotta be kidding me.”

  “Live a little,” Hazel replied, bouncing eagerly on the spot. “What harm can it do?”

  Hazel was right – there was something magical about the simple act of throwing a coin into the water. As I watched it disappear into the murky depths, I felt a youthful surge of energy pass through my body as though a missing piece from my childhood had finally slotted into place. Needless to say, Hazel experienced the same as she tossed her coin down the well with a little cry of:

  “Whoop.”

  Plop.

  We both giggled and turned towards Ida May, who stared back at us with a look of pure boredom as she held the coin in her outstretched hand.

  “I’m not doing it,” she announced.

  “Ida May…”

  “I’m not doing is, Hazel. It’s silly. It’s a waste of money…”

  “It’s fun,” I shot back. “Just a bit of a giggle between old friends.”

  “Yeah,” Hazel piped up. “It’s just a bit of fun.”

  “Throwing money away is not my idea of fun.”

  “Well, it’s not your money, is it,” I replied in a matter-of-fact way. “So you needn’t worry about it.”

  Hazel nodded vigorously beside me. “Come on Ida May, you can even make a wish…”

  “A wish?”

  “Yes, wish for whatever you like.”

  Ida May flashed us both a look. “Alright, have it your way.”

  Hazel cheered with child-like glee as Ida May turned slowly towards the well and held her hand out over the still, black water. She remained like that for a moment, frozen stock-still as she pondered the dark liquid beneath her.

  “I wish,” she said eventually, “that something exciting will happen this weekend…”

  Hazel and I giggled like schoolgirls as Ida May released the coin and we all watched as it twist and turned and span and dropped into the water. As it disappeared beneath the surface, it didn’t make a plopping sound as mine and Hazel’s had done. Instead we heard something quite remarkable, a sound that caused us all to stop and stare hard into the depths of the cold, dank well.

  A dull thud.

  Ida May turned slowly towards me, her eyes wide and fearful.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  Hazel leapt to her feet, clapping her hands energetically as she danced a small jig before Ida May, much to the latters complete confusion.

  “You got it in the pail,” she cackled, placing a congratulatory hand on Ida May’s shoulder. “You see? You didn’t waste your m
oney at all!”

  I turned around and scanned the well. It wasn’t in the best of conditions, but I could still make out the rope attached to the well roof. I followed it as it ran at an angle off to one side of the well and found, underneath a little bed of moss, the point where the rope began its unseen descent down into the depths. Pulling the rope free, I reached out for the winch handle and gestured for Ida May to take it.

  “It’s your coin. You do the honors.”

  Ida May shrugged and stared cautiously down at the darkness. “Your coin.”

  “Fair enough.”

  I gave the handle a little pull. It was stiff and creaked loudly as it barely moved an inch. I remembered how, in those old westerns, people would spit on their hands just before doing manual labor and, thinking it might make some kind of difference, I decided to do the same.

  It didn’t make any difference. In fact, if anything, it made it harder. As I felt the wood rub harshly against my skin, the handle finally began to turn. It cracked loudly and a small puff of dust spat out from between the joints before finally the pressure eased off and I was finally away.

  Deep below, there was a loud sploosh as the pail finally left the water. In a few seconds longer, I had it up to the height of the well and, with a little help from Hazel, I managed to heave it on to the side wall.

  The water inside the pail wasn’t quite what I expected – although, I’m not really sure what that was either. I guess I always had the idea that water from a well would be pure and fresh looking, untainted by all the chemicals that they throw into it nowadays. But this water was positively dank, almost solid in consistency and polluted by all kinds of soil, moss and weeds.

  It didn’t really bother me – it just wasn’t what I was expecting. I suppose after so many years of not being used, it was bound to be a bit gruesome. I slowly rolled up my sleeves and reached down towards the water’s surface.

  Ida May’s hand shot out and grasped hold of my arm.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s alright,” I replied, smiling up at her. “It’s just a bit of muck.”

  “Yeah, and what’s a lady like you doing playing with muck? There could be anything in there...”

  “It’s fine. I promise.”

  Ida May slowly let go of my arm and I plunged it into the icy cold water – only it wasn’t just water. Almost like swamp land.

  Or a bog.

  I hunted around for the coin, expecting it to be somewhere near the bottom. And yet, before I reached the bottom of the pail, my fingers closed in on an object somewhere beneath the surface. It was soft and yet hard at the same time, and the shape of it felt like something awfully familiar. I was tempted, for a moment, to pull my hands out and retreat back to where Hazel stood, but something – and don’t ask me what it was – compelled me to reach out further and get a better grip.

  Finally, my fingers made it all the way around and I gently lifted the object up and out of the water. I think I knew what it was before I ever laid eyes on it, for it felt so familiar to me. It was only when I heard Ida May’s cries of sheer horror that I ventured a look of my own. As my eyes fell on it, I felt my fingers loosen their grip and the severed hand fell roughly into the leaves at my feet.

  Hazel stood perfectly still, her eyes staring down at the body part with complete confusion and surprise.

  “Oh my…”

  That was the second time Hazel found herself on the ground that morning, although – to be fair – I very nearly fainted myself. As she clattered to the floor, a short gust whipped up the leaves around her. The deck of cards slid out of her grasp and scattered them to the wind…

  Chapter Three – Unexpected Developments

  It all happened so quickly after that. As Hazel clattered to the floor, Ida May raced to her aid, crouching down on the ground beside her and stroking her head as she slowly came round. I, for my part, was frozen to the spot – able to do absolutely nothing save for staring down at the detached hand. I’ll admit it, I was a rabbit caught in the headlights – unable to move, unable to think clearly. I’d held that hand between my fingers, I’d picked it up with my own hands…

  But I wasn’t afraid.

  Not really.

  My heart was pounding, my breath was short – but I wasn’t frightened. I felt the way I had when I married my husband, the way I had when I found out I’d be bringing a child into the world. I was apprehensive – yes – but not afraid. I think the word would be…

  Exhilarated.

  “Clara!” Ida May hissed. “Are you alright?”

  I snapped out it. I glanced across to Hazel who, now having regained a sense of herself, was now staring rather curiously at the hand in a way that can’t have been much different from my own. Utter fascination.

  I nodded quickly. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  Ida May blinked twice and turned her attention back to Hazel. “I think she’s in shock…”

  “I’m not in shock. I’m perfectly fine…”

  “No, you’re in shock.” She turned back to me expectedly. She stared for a good few seconds before finally raising her eyebrows and nodding in the vague direction of the house. “Clara! Maybe some help…?”

  “Oh, yes.” I took a step or two towards the house. “Of course.”

  I hesitated, my eyes lingering on the severed hand. I looked back to Ida May – even she was interested by it now.

  “I’ll be right back…”

  With a certain sense of reluctance, I turned away and began to quickly trot back through the undergrowth until I arrived back on the garden path. Calling out as I went, I moved across the garden, thinking that I might have to heave my way up the massive staircase that led to the back garden.

  Luckily for me I didn’t have to go far.

  I came across Don first who, once again, had managed to find himself cornered by another of Aunt Ruby’s friends, a man I had noticed briefly at the funeral but hadn’t spoken to before. I don’t know what the two were talking about but, as Don saw me approach, he waved the man aside and took two quick steps towards me and grasped hold of my hands as I came to a halt.

  “Clara? What is it? What’s wrong?”

  I explained what had happened – rather too briefly I imagine for the two men stared at me with such complete confusion in their eyes that it was apparent they hadn’t understood a word that I’d said.

  “Steady, girl,” the man I didn’t know said, soothingly. “Take a few deep breaths and start again.”

  I did what I was told and found a lot more success the second time I told the story. Before I even reached the end of it, the two men’s eyes had widened with shock and an almost gleeful surprise and they instantly began barking out orders.

  “Right,” the man I didn’t know said. “We need to be organized about this…”

  “I’m handling this, Cecil,” Don replied.

  Cecil – I’d heard that name before. Aunt Ruby had described him as the rebellious one of her friends. The old man with the hip pony tail and blue, speckled bandanas who prowls around on his Harley and tries to make friends with the youngsters of the town. I suppose I should’ve recognized him straight away - the leather vest should’ve given it away.

  “Listen here, boy…”

  “This is Ruby’s house. I was her butler. I’m in charge…”

  “I fought in Vietnam…”

  “Can you get hold of Jasper?”

  Cecil’s eyes narrowed. “Well, I guess so…”

  “Then do it,’ Don replied, his voice brimming with authority. “And tell the others as well. We don’t want them having a coronary when the cops show up!”

  “Think it might finish off ol’ Milton, eh?” Cecil raised a cheeky eyebrow. “Alright, but where are you going?”

  Don didn’t reply. He simply grasped me by the arm and marched me back down the garden, allowing me to lead him back through to the well. When we got there, Hazel was back on her feet, bending down to scoop up her scattered cards whilst Ida
May peered curiously down into the well. She almost jumped out of her skin when Don barked:

  “Right. Everyone back away now. This is a crime scene…”

  Ida May took a few startled steps back. “I was just… I wanted to see if there was any more down there…”

  “Never mind that, the police will take care of everything.” His eyes swung around to Hazel. “You. Stop doing that. This is a crime scene now.”

  Hazel’s eyes glanced up, but she carried on trying to scoop up the cards.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. These aren’t part of the crime scene…”

  “They could be vital evidence…”

  “They’re my cards,” Hazel replied indignantly. “I dropped them with the shock…”

  Ida May stepped towards Don and gave him a suggestive smile. “She drops them all the time. I drop things too from time to time…”

  I stepped forward and pulled her away from him. “Not the time, Ida May.”

  She gave a little chuckle before stepping back a little further and leaning up against a nearby tree as she watched Don herd me back a short distance from the well.

  Once I was well back and, having established that Hazel wasn’t going anywhere until the last of her cards were picked up, Don turned his attention to the severed hand, seeming to ponder it for a moment. There was something in his eyes, a queer sensation that there was something familiar to him about that hand. Ida May sensed it too and pushed herself off the tree, staring intently at him.

  “Recognize it?” she asked.

  “Hmmm?” Don turned back towards her. “No, well, no.”

  “No, well, no?”

  “Yes. I mean no.” Don risked one more glance. “I was just wondering who’s it could be, that’s all?”

  Ida May chuckled. “Recognize a lot of people from their hands, do ya?”

  Don thought about this for a moment before violently shaking his head and herding us back a little further.

  “We need to keep this crime scene secure until the police arrive. No one steps a foot closer until they get here…”

  It couldn’t have been timed any better. The moment Don finished speaking, a high-pitched whine filled the air as an electric engine moved closer towards us. To one side, we could hear twigs and leaves rustling and snapping as something heavy barreled it’s way towards us. Before Don had a chance to do anything, the bushes parted and Milton’s wheelchair roared into the clearing, sliding to a halt barely inches away from the severed hand.