8. Surprise, Surprise-2
1683 Words
“That would be it,” she replied with a proud smile.
“Have you been neighbors long?”
“Twenty years,” Percival said with a sad smile. “Twenty wonderful fun-filled years.”
Everyone ambled to the pond in silence. The opposite side of the Moone property was fairly barren while this stretch was much busier – with the pond and a gazebo, a rose garden, and sporadically placed wrought-iron benches. Halfway between a six-car garage and the gazebo stood the small outbuilding I"d seen last night. It might have served as a studio or cottage, or even fancy storage shed. Whatever it was, the structure seemed out of place; it didn"t match the grand house in any respect, except for gray-green slate roofing. A small-town carny ride stuck in Disneyland.
As the others continued forward, Adwin and I strolled up to the dwelling and wiped at a side window with dried-up leaves to peer inside.
“What do you suppose she kept in here?”
“Too bad the sun"s pretty much gone. I can"t see much through this tiny opening between the shades, except some sheet-covered furniture… Maybe visitors stayed here, ones who preferred privacy to a house filled with people. Or maybe the servants use this place.”
“For what purpose? To pluck chickens and clean pond piranhas?”
“Do piranhas have scales?”
“You"d still have to skin them.”
We chuckled feebly – to match the humor – and moved along a narrow semi-worn path to the entrance.
“Maybe Fred resides in there.”
“Fred the Ghost or Fred the Feline?” I asked, scanning two tall windows bearing specially-designed blinds lining both sides of the door. A third, small arched window with a stained-glass leaf motif was positioned overhead.
“Why not both?” Adwin stood on my heels. “Ghosts need pets like anyone else, especially if they"re stuck on earth for perpetuity.”
A hand-forged pull handle was loose. Too bad the door it was attached to wasn"t. “Pooh.”
“You"re as fixated on finding clues and bodies as Rey.”
“Hardly. I"m merely curious.”
Adwin clicked his tongue and grabbed my elbow, and led us toward the rest of the group gathered on the topmost step of the statued white marble gazebo, which was pretty much the size of my studio condo back in Wilmington.
“Did you find anything of note, Detective Reynalda?” I asked, stepping up behind her.
“Not yet,” she sniffed, “but I will.” She stood five feet from a sizeable pond that four dozen Koi would have been happy to call their home had the water been cleaner. Noticing my gaze, she nodded. “Looks kinda murky.”
“It certainly does,” Prunella agreed softly, looking uncertain about moving any closer than Linda, as if the pool of water might suck her into its unknown depths.
“Are you expecting to find a body in there?” Adwin joked, swinging around a pillar and nearly bumping into Jensen, who appeared to be humoring us by appearing keenly interested in all that lay before him.
“I"m not,” Linda replied with a droll smile, “but Rey is.”
“Fun-nny gir-rl.” My cousin ambled past the two women and stopped inches from the edge, ignoring Prunella"s caution about getting too close. She crouched. “Man, this baby could use a serious cleaning. If there were ever fish in here, they"d have to be dead.”
“Or slime suckers,” Adwin offered.
“Well, great detective, are you going to squat there? Or detect?” Percival asked, again appearing to keep mirth in check.
detect“Patience my not-so-favorite lackey,” my cousin responded, removing a knitted glove, rolling up a fleecy sleeve, and sticking her hand beneath the surface.
“Oh, for the love of –”
“Hold on. I can feel – yes, there"s something here. Gawd!”
Who"d have guessed trim, gangly Prunella could emit such a bloodcurdling scream?
* * *
Percival released a low and lengthy whistle, lurching backward and grabbing the zaftig thigh of a pillar-goddess he"d lurched into. “Keeee-rist, doesn"t that want to make you spill your frittatas?”
Adwin and I clasped hands and gaped, while May-Lee"s response was to glance at Percival and arch her right eyebrow.
“Damn.” Jensen suddenly seemed very serious as he regarded the item my cousin clutched.
Shocked-looking Rey held a head by mud-thick curls. Rubbery kelp-tinged skin was daubed with slime and bulbous eyes gazed back defiantly while chubby, deformed lips were pulled back in a badger snarl. It was a prime CSI/Bones moment.
CSIBones“Who"s that?” Adwin asked, releasing me and crouching alongside Rey, who hadn"t moved or spoken since she pulled the hideous find from the dank wetness. She seemed staggered, incapable of moving or speaking. This was a truly rare occasion. Mom would want to hear about it.
“The Incredible Hulk?” I suggested.
“A superhero or comic book champion this guy – uh, head – ain"t,” Linda said. “Any ideas Rey?”
“Cousin?” I urged when she remained still.
Rey looked up, focused, and frowned. “What am I – psychic? I don"t know who this dude is.” She scanned the head, cursed softly and let it fall, then studied her hand as if to ensure it wasn"t contaminated with a flesh-eating virus or cooties.
“Has anyone gone missing in the area lately?” I asked as I crouched alongside Adwin.
“Someone inevitably always goes missing.” Percival"s voice was as dark as his expression.
Jensen sighed. “We"d best ring the police.”
“Hold on.” I peered closer and then poked the head.
“Are you crazy?” Linda asked, stepping up alongside me.
“No. Curious,” Adwin answered for me with a smirk.
Curious“Too funny, humorless pastry boy,” I said, smirking in return. I poked again. “This is a fake head.”
“What?” Prunella moved beside Rey. “A fake? As in a joke?”
joke“It"s an odd place to put a joke,” I replied, “but that"s what it appears to be. See?” I yanked a misshapen rubber ear, and then rubbed oily sludge from my fingers on a patch of spiky grass. Strange. It felt like grease or petroleum jelly.
“I don"t get it,” Linda murmured.
Rey laughed and we all stared. “Come on! It"s Aunt Matty"s idea of fun. I bet she"s stashed a dozen of these around the place, and some legs and arms, too!”
I found myself laughing as well, remembering what I"d been thinking yesterday. “She probably figured we"d go exploring at some point, so she made sure to have all bases covered.” I held up glistening fingers. “Even the pond scum is for show.”
“I don"t find this funny,” Prunella said, annoyed.
“Oh come on, you were one of her best friends. You must be accustomed to this stuff.”
The bird benefactor tilted her head one way and then the other, and the pout evolved into a grin.
“Do you think she placed the snake in the bed, too?” Percival asked.
I glanced at Rey and she at Percival. “No,” my cousin and I replied simultaneously.
“Why not?” He kicked the head as if it were a soccer ball. Back into the pond it went.
“She"s dead,” we responded at the same time.
His brow furrowed like a kiwi past its prime (the fruit, not the bird).
“Our aunt passed a while ago,” I explained. “That snake was put there recently – to scare Thomas, or warn us, or maybe both. It"s unlikely Snakey"s been lying there since her funeral.”
“Why not?” Percival challenged.
“You have me there.” It was time for my brow to furrow. “Maybe when she"d planned this inheritance affair, one of the pranks was to scare Thomas. She"d probably requested one of the servants put the reptile in his bed when an opportunity presented itself.”
“Do you think all the staff may be in on this?”
“Anything is possible,” I said with a shrug.
“Keeee-rist, I need a tea. With a shot of brandy.” Percival removed his Ascot cap and ran a hand through loam-colored hair as dense as wool.
“Need? I want one. A double.” Jensen turned on the heels of his Bally loafers and started toward the house.
Needwant“Hey! We"ve got more exploring to do,” Rey called.
“I"ve endured enough foolish pranks for today, thank you.” He waved a long thin hand limply behind him.
“Spoilsport.” She thrust out her lower lip, looking like a birthday brat-uh-child who"d not received enough ice-cream with cake.
“Let him go. He thinks he"s too grand for the likes of us anyway,” Percival said quietly, watching the London barrister take a shortcut beyond the bungalow-cottage-shed.
There was a touch of hostility in the tone and gaze, and I got the impression the London barrister affronted the poetry and gardening lover in some way. In fact, there appeared to be a lot of ill-feeling among the group.
We shared another telepathic moment and simultaneously headed for a narrow path that led to the other side of the Moone estate.
The dark sky hovered ominously overhead, but the rain it promised didn"t arrive, at least not during the next ninety minutes. We enjoyed the solitude of the estate, Mathilda Reine Moone"s crazy landscaping notions, and the two heads, three hands, and one leg placed in more strategic locations than the pond.
Dear Aunt Mat. You had to love the old gutsy gal.
- Writer
