The Heirloom Murders - Kathleen Ernst [11]
Chloe nibbled her lower lip. She sensed something brittle in Dellyn. She was afraid her friend might snap.
“I need to keep busy,” Dellyn said simply.
That, Chloe understood. “Well, I’ll help you all I can.” She gave Dellyn’s hand a quick squeeze, then stood. “I better get going.”
“Got just a minute?” Dellyn cocked her head toward the house. “I found a copy of the article I was telling you about. You’ll get a kick out of it.”
Chloe followed Dellyn out of the garden, latching the gate behind them. “Right after I got back to Eagle, I got a call from someone I knew when I was a kid,” Dellyn said over her shoulder. “Valerie Bing grew up in Eagle, and went to school with Bonnie. Anyway, she’d written this piece about the Eagle Diamond.”
The back door opened directly into the kitchen, which was decorated in the regrettable 1970s-fave motif of mustard yellow, burnt orange, and avocado green. Dellyn led the way into what had likely been intended to serve as a ground-floor bedroom in the era when people commonly had elderly parents living with them. The room was lined with bookshelves and file cabinets—not to mention a few stacks of boxes that hinted of more stuff collected in the name of preserving Eagle’s history. On the large desk, spiral notebooks and stacks of files surrounded a huge manual typewriter.
“Valerie had talked with my folks while she was doing research,” Dellyn said. “The article was published in Wisconsin Byways right after they were killed. She sent me a lovely card, and a copy of the magazine.” Dellyn scanned the desk, then frowned. “I thought I’d left it out for you.” She began lifting folders, peering under piles. “What on earth did I do with it? It was right here.” She finally dropped into the desk chair, rubbing her forehead with the heels of both hands.
“You just had a huge shock,” Chloe said gently. “I’d be worried if you didn’t feel scattered. You’ll probably put your hand on the article as soon as I drive away.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.” Dellyn sighed. “I was rummaging around in here for most of the night.” She picked up a cheap notebook, the bound kind with a black-and-white marbled cover, dog-eared and dirty. She opened it almost reverently.
Chloe leaned over Dellyn’s shoulder. “Was that your mom’s?”
“Yeah. She didn’t keep diaries, but these old journals are almost as good. She started them in 1942, the year she and Dad got married. She skipped the year Bonnie was born, but otherwise she was faithful.”
Chloe leaned close as Dellyn leafed through smudged pages. Mrs. Burke had recorded everything she’d planted by both common and Latin name, with addendums about pests, weather, and harvest. But the entries were as much folklore as science. Eugenia Miller gave me a new basil plant and a recipe for cucumber and tomato salad. And, SSE’s ‘Grandpa Ott’s’ morning glories bloomed for the first time this morning. A luscious deep purple. Must save enough seed to give some to Sonia.
“What a treasure,” Chloe said softly. “When my grandma died, I got her file box of recipe cards. Half of them are for foods I’d never fix—Jello-and-mayonaise salad, stuff like that—but there’s more her in those cards than in any object.”
Dellyn set the notebook aside, and reached for a file folder. Opening it, she revealed a stack of whispery onion-skin paper, all covered with typewritten notes. “And these were my dad’s.”
“October 14, 1963,” Chloe read aloud. “Mrs. Harrigan gave me a black dress that her grandmother wore on her wedding day, June 18, 1890.” Chloe stepped back so she could regard her friend. “So he did keep records! That will help a lot as we work through all that stuff in the attic.”
“Thank God for small favors.” Dellyn looked at her watch. “If you’re going to make it to morning meeting, you better get going.”
1876
“He likes you, you know.”
Clarissa Wood paused, pushing hair from her forehead with one wrist. She had a roast in the oven, and peas and potatoes on the stove. “Who?”
Her husband snorted. “The German. He makes calf eyes at you whenever he thinks I’m not watching.