Chapter 5
" Nana's fine. Nana's fine," I repeated over and over into my cup of hot tea.
Herbert Ramsey's death and apparent murder had sent such a shockwave through me, I could hardly catch my breath. Dalton helped me back to the house, then he began a series of calls looking for some assistance, any assistance. I felt bad for him. He was practically groveling. It seemed the last thing he expected when he took over as ranger for Ripple Creek was a murder. The county coroner finally agreed to make the journey up the dark mountain. Dalton returned to Ramsey's house for an evidence search.
I finished my tea. It helped steady my nerves and warm the chill that had come from seeing a dead body.
I decided to walk out to the road to wave down the coroner's van. The road Nana lived on was off several main streets. It was easy to miss in the daylight and impossible to find in the dark unless you knew exactly where to look for it. The street was always quiet, and tonight, it seemed especially so, even considering that something terrible had taken place just hours before. A small blue, somewhat rundown truck, Dalton's truck, presumably, was parked across from Mr. Ramsey's house. I'd been in such a state of distress, I hadn't even noticed it when I pulled into Nana's driveway.
Considering we were in the middle of the Rockies, it was a pleasant night. The warmth from the long summer days had snuck into every crevice and nook and settled there for the night. As Dalton pointed out, if Nana was hiding somewhere, she would be in no danger of exposure from the weather. But where could she possibly be, and why was she hiding?
I walked along the road, which, other than a few patches of packed gravel, was mostly unpaved. A flutter of white caught my eye as I neared Herbert's house. I hurried over to it and leaned down to pick up the thin piece of linen. Tiny violets were embroidered along the corners of the handkerchief. Nana always kept one of her specially embroidered handkerchiefs in the pocket of her robe.
I glanced up. Herbert's driveway was only ten feet ahead. For some odd reason there was a pile of debris, hedge trimmings, tree branches and old leaves, in a scattered pile on one side of the driveway. It wasn't like Mr. Ramsey, who had always kept his yard neat and organized. The small white gate leading to his backyard was open. The big red and black sign that said "Beware of Dog" was still nailed to the front of the gate. Mr. Ramsey never had a dog, of course, but he liked people to think he had one, big and snarling and ready to eat intruders.
I tucked the handkerchief into my palm and looked back at Nana's house. Had Nana heard the yelling? As much as she disliked her neighbor, it would be just like Nana to go and check on him, even in the dark. Had she walked over to check on him only to come face-to-face with his murderer? A frightful scenario rolled through my mind. Nana had caught the killer finishing the terrible deed. The killer gave chase, and she ran for her gate, pushed it open and raced into the dark forest. It would be an easier place to hide than the house. My phone calls would never have reached her in the forest. Cell phone service was spotty enough in the neighborhood. When you wandered just a few hundred yards into the trees beyond the house, all service was lost.
Headlights temporarily blinded me. I waved my arm so the coroner could see me. I motioned toward Herbert's house. Having spotted the headlights, Dalton came out the front door to the driveway. He was wearing latex gloves. This was it. I was at a crime scene, and old Mr. Ramsey, the man who never had a smile or kind word for anyone, was dead, gone forever. As unlikable as he was, I couldn't help but feel a touch of sadness. He was never friendly, but he kept to himself. As Nana used to say, 'Herbert is not a charmer, but he's quiet and neat as far as neighbors go, so I consider myself lucky'.
It seemed he met a frightening and violent end. Being strangled carried with it a certain amount of terror and suffering. It wasn't a quick death like a bullet to the heart or a hit over the head. For several long, horrifying moments, Mr. Ramsey struggled in vain to take a breath. In those same moments, he knew he was going to die. For that, for the way he left this life, I promised to never say or think a bad word about him again.
"I wasn't sure they'd actually come." Dalton's deep voice (it had grown much deeper and more mellow since his teen years) popped me out of my thoughts. "It's late, Scottie. They're going to be here for awhile. I promise we'll start looking for Evie at first light." He looked down the driveway as the coroner and his two helpers began unloading the things they would need, including some portable lights and a gurney. It was all real. I wasn't watching a crime show from the safety of my couch. I was smack dab in the middle of a murder investigation. "In fact, I might still be up by first light."
"You look tired, Dalton. I'm sorry this turned out to be such a bad night. I'll leave pillows and a blanket on Nana's couch. That way you don't have to go home in between. With any luck, we'll both wake to the smell of Nana's buttermilk waffles, and there won't have to be a search."
For a moment, there was a long, thoughtful gaze exchanged between us. The frantic, chaotic night hadn't left any room for proper hellos or catching up. Hopefully, that would come later… over one of Nana's waffles.
It took no small amount of effort on my part to drag my gaze from his. "I'm going to walk back through the yard and the gate just to see if anything looks out of place. Is that all right, Ranger Braddock?" I added a smile.
Dalton nodded. "All right, I know I've been doing the whole badge in charge thing, but I was just making sure you stayed safe."
"I know. I'm teasing. And thank you for that. Now, if you would just find my grandmother, I will love you forever." The second the words tripped out of my mouth, I wanted to suck them back in. Of course, I meant it facetiously, but I'd said those same words to myself (never to him—shiver at the thought of it) many times in middle school.
Dalton chuckled. It was a deep, rich sound that only added to his charm. "Good night, Scottie. I'll let you know if there are any developments. And thanks for the couch accommodations. They'll come in handy tonight. Borrow my pen light. The coroner brought some lights with him."
"Great, that way I won't trip over any dead bodies." I covered my mouth. I was blaming my ridiculous behavior on the stress of the long night. "Sorry, bad taste. Thanks for the light."
It seemed the natural reaction to walking past a corpse would be to look the other way, but I found myself curious enough to peer in the direction of poor Mr. Ramsey. A twinge of regret grabbed me as I thought about all the mean things I'd said about the man. I walked over to the body. Dalton had left him as we found him with the long wire wrapped around his neck. He mentioned he wanted the crime scene as untouched as possible for the coroner. It was hard looking at his face, his bluish lips and the wide and lifeless eyes.
"Mr. Ramsey, I forgive you for confiscating all my balls, even the red and white soccer ball. I figure something very bad must have happened to you in your early life for you to hate people so much. I'm sorry that you and Nana were never friends. Frankly, you missed out on that end because she's an amazing person. She would have enriched your life and possibly even made you forget what it was that had you so bitter. I hope you find much more joy in the next life."
"That was nicely done," Dalton said quietly from behind. Various voices and noises were approaching behind him. The coroner's team was about to get to work.
I'd actually worked up a lump in my throat. "Just thought someone should say something. He lived such a lonely life. Well, good night again." I turned and aimed the penlight at the open gate.
The pathway to the gate on Ramsey's side was smooth with decomposed granite that Mr. Ramsey kept clear and free of weeds. I wondered briefly if, in her fear, Nana spotted the clear path as her quickest escape. Even in the dark, the pale peach colored path was easy to spot.
I hadn't realized just how tired I was until my head suddenly felt very heavy on my neck. I was going to fall in bed and let only good vibes surround me. I was still counting on a waffle breakfast with Nana's smile and laugh to fill the kitchen. I was sure she'd spend hours sharing tales of her late night adventure. She just had to be all right.
That was my exact thought as my gaze dropped to the smooth, clear path. A dark spot stained a small section of the decomposed granite. It looked entirely out of place in the otherwise pristine walkway. I stooped down and hovered the light over it like a spotlight. I fell back to my bottom in shock. Dalton witnessed it and hurried over.
"Scottie, are you all right?"
It took a second for me to find my tongue. I aimed the beam of light at the stain again. "Dalton, please tell me that isn't blood."
His gaze focused on the stain. His expression turned grim. Not the expression I was hoping for. He pulled on his latex glove and patted the spot. "Whatever it is, it's dry."
"Nana called me over three hours ago. On a warm night like this—" I broke off when Dalton put his hand on my arm.
"Don't jump to any conclusions. I'll get a swab. The coroner can take it with him directly to the lab."
"So it is blood?" I asked.
"If I had to guess"—he looked at me—"I'd say yes."