Bury the Hatchet in Dead Mule Swamp by Joan H. Young Read Free Book Online

spotted me and
began walking toward us. “Well, well, well. Look who turns up at
the scene of the crime,” he said.
    “Detective Milford, this is
my son Chad Raven. Actually, we were out looking at riverfront
properties, and sort of wandered into Jalmari.” I paused, but
Milford just looked from Chad to me. “Is this where Mr. Canfield
was killed?” I asked.
    “Probably not, but we’re
checking the river for evidence since he was found here,” he said,
jerking a thumb toward the divers who were peeling off equipment
behind him. “Hello, Chad. Are you planning to live here with your
mother?”
    “Oh, no. I’m just visiting.
I’m still in college. We were sort of checking out cottages for
fun.”
    “Did you find something in
the water?” I asked. I was searching the concrete launch ramp for
anything the divers might have brought in that looked out of
place.
    Milford responded. “Not
here. But it is very interesting that the murder weapon has been
identified as a hatchet, and so far the only extra hatchet to be
found is one you brought to me.”
    I suddenly felt slightly
dizzy. “So, that was blood on it?”
    The detective shuffled his
feet and sighed. “Yes it was.”
    My stomach turned over. The
thought that I’d almost handled something which had been used to
kill someone, even someone I didn’t know, was not
pleasant.
    Chad was watching Milford
closely, and his eyes narrowed to slits. “There’s something he’s
not telling you, Ma.”
    “Your son is very
observant,” Milford said. “There was dried blood on the hatchet,
but it was chicken blood.”
    “Chicken blood!” I said,
taking a step back. “What on earth?”
    Milford ran a hand over his
short hair, and shook off drops of sweat. “That hatchet wasn’t used
on Jared Canfield unless that was earlier, and then it was cleaned
exceptionally well before it was used on a chicken. Nevertheless, I
don’t think you should take any overnight trips until we get this
cleared up.”
    “Me? You think I had
something to do with this?”
    “At this point, I’m not
thinking. I’m just collecting data.”
    “What about Cora?” I said
in my defense. “It was sent to her.”
    “She’s already had a call
from my office. You'll find a message in your own voicemail.” He
turned to Chad. “Nice to meet you, son. Will you be here
long?”
    “Just a couple of
days.”
    Detective Milford rolled
his eyes toward me and spoke to Chad in a man-to-man sort of tone
that infuriated me, “See if you can keep your mother out of
trouble.”
    Chad stuck out his hand to
shake with the detective and said, “I doubt I’ll be very good at
that.”
     

Chapter 8
     
    We headed back toward town
with Chad still at the wheel. I was lost in a brown study featuring
hatchets, local animosities, and derelict dwellings. Chad, however,
was hungry. After just a few miles he said, “Your refrigerator was
pretty empty. Is there somewhere we can get some food?”
    I pulled myself back to the
present, embarrassed that the recent events of my newly adopted
county could so completely block out the limited time I had
available to spend with my only child. “Sure. Let’s go to Volger’s
Grocery. If Adele’s there, you can meet her. She’s one of my best
friends.”
    It didn’t take long to
drive back to Cherry Hill, since we were no longer looking down
every driveway or two-track. However, when we passed the old school
Chad pulled to the curb and studied the building carefully. I found
this quite curious since he hadn’t shared my enthusiasm for the
architectural beauty of the brick building.
    “Would you try to find out
who owns it?” he asked.
    “Why?”
    “It really would be a great
place to bring some friends for Halloween weekend. We could have a
party and creep each other out.”
    “I don’t know if the
neighbors would appreciate that.”
    “What neighbors? There
aren’t any houses nearby in any direction. That makes it spookier.
And the whole block across the