Murder by Yew (An Edna Davies Mystery #1)(2)



“Come on,” Mary repeated, ignoring Edna’s question. “You’ve got to see this.” Grabbing Edna’s hand, she pulled her toward a row of laurel bushes that screened the property from a winding two-lane road and lunged through branches heavy with stiff, oblong leaves. Edna, protecting her face from slapping twigs with her left hand, tried unsuccessfully to free herself. “Shhh,” Mary hissed, finally releasing her when they reached the periphery.

Opposite them, the land sloped gradually upward from the macadam. At the top of a low hill sat a two-story, white clapboard house with black trim and a wide front porch. The police car had stopped in the driveway beside the house, and beyond the black-and-white, a man wearing a blue coverall and baseball cap was attaching cables from the tow truck to a dark green SUV.

As the women watched from the shelter of the laurel, a woman in uniform went into the house while her partner stayed on the porch, watching the mechanic. Before long, the policewoman came back out holding on to Aleda Sharp, the wife and mother who lived there. As they stepped onto the porch, the second officer took the woman’s other arm, and they escorted her to the waiting police vehicle.

“What’s going on?” Edna whispered, flicking her gaze toward Mary.

“They’re taking her in. Shhh.” Mary’s eyes remained riveted on the scene across the street.

By the time Edna looked back at the house, Otto Sharp and his daughter were standing on the porch, staring after the trio. He was gesturing with his right hand, his left one immobilized by the clinging, stunned teenager. Words didn’t reach the two spies across the road, but from his tone, he was angry.

As Edna watched, mesmerized, the male officer opened the rear door of the car while his partner placed her hand on Aleda’s stylishly cut dark hair, protecting her head as she sank onto the back seat. Both officers then slid into the front of the patrol car, and the driver backed out onto the road several car lengths from where Mary and Edna stood. The tow truck followed, moving slowly down the slanted driveway with its load.

When the police vehicle passed them at the side of the road, the woman in the passenger’s seat smiled and held up her hand in mock salute. Edna felt the back of her neck grow hot at having been caught prying, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the bowed head of the woman in the back seat. When both vehicles had driven out of sight, she whirled on Mary.

“Tell me what this is all about.”

“They’re arresting her,” said the tall redhead, pushing through the foliage back the way she’d come.

“I can see that.” Edna followed, leaving enough room this time so she wouldn’t get smacked with swinging branches. “What did she do?” she asked as soon as they reached the broken-shell drive, and she could walk beside Mary.

“Hit and run.”

Edna’s hand flew up to her open mouth. “What? When?” she stammered. She had met the woman only twice, but she couldn’t imagine Aleda Sharp hitting someone with her car and not stopping. Aleda seemed so … so upstanding, she finally decided mentally.

“Happened a couple days ago. Claims she didn’t know she’d hit anyone. Ask me, she was probably on her cell phone at the time. She’s always on her cell phone, driving around town.”

“Who’d she hit?”

“Codfish.”

“Codfish?” Edna didn’t think she’d heard right. “She hit a fish?”

“Not a fish—Codfish. Codfish McKale. He’s an old fisherman … at least, he used to be until arthritis crippled him so bad he couldn’t haul the lines in anymore. He hangs around town, doin’ odd jobs and drinkin’ up his earnings.”

“Was he badly injured?”

“He was unconscious when they got him to the South County hospital night before last, but I haven’t checked on his condition since. I’ll find out when I go to work. I volunteer there on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I’m going in at noon today.”

“How did they know it was Aleda that did it?” Edna couldn’t get the picture of the woman’s bowed head out of her mind.

“Witness finally came forward. Seems like Codfish was crossing the street to the diner where he eats supper sometimes. Waitress having a cigarette break says she saw him step out from between two cars just as Aleda drove by.”

“Didn’t she tell this to the police when it happened?”

“Claims she didn’t want to rat out Ms. Sharp. Their daughters go to school together, and she didn’t want to get involved. Thought Aleda would go to the police herself.”

“Why did the witness finally decide to come forward?” Edna had never known anyone who had been arrested before and was surprised, then felt guilty to realize she had a morbid curiosity about the whole affair.

“Says her conscience was bothering her. She hasn’t been able to sleep, seeing Codfish lying in the road like he was.”

“How do you know all this?”

Mary smiled self-consciously. “Friends on the force. I also listen to a police scanner. It was my father’s from when he was a volunteer fireman.”

“What will happen to her?” Edna couldn’t seem to curb her inquisitiveness. “What if she’s telling the truth, that she didn’t know she’d hit someone? Could it be possible?”

Mary shrugged. “Maybe, but ignorance is no excuse. They’ll probably charge her with reckless driving, endangerment—maybe even vehicular homicide, if old Codfish dies.” Then she added matter-of-factly, “She’ll have to do jail time.”

Suzanne Young's Books