“What!”
Pix told him the whole story. It was turning out to be a much-needed dress rehearsal for her star turn with the Fairchilds. Sam agreed to give her fifteen minutes before he went over.
“I know they're both home. I just saw Tom pul in and Faith has been in the yard with the kids al afternoon. They went inside about an hour ago.”
Baths, supper, stories, Faith would be pretty busy. But not too busy to answer the phone.
“Pix! This is great. I didn't think we'd get a report so soon”
Pix took a deep breath and a large mouthful of scotch.
'Is Tom around?'
“Yes, he's reading to the kids in the living room. Why do you ask? Don't tel me. They've screwed something up.
Put something in upside down or left us with no doors!'
Faith was attempting to speak lightly.
“Samantha and I went over this morning to see how things were progressing and one of the dogs dug up a dead body in your basement—or rather, the hand. The police uncovered the rest.'
“I can't believe it!' Faith turned away from the phone.
'Tom, get on the extension. Quick!'
“We had trouble believing it ourselves, but ..
“This is going to put us terribly . behind schedule,'
Faith wailed.
From the extension, Tom asked, 'What is?'
“Pix found a body buried in our future basement, and I know how the police work. It wil be weeks before they'l let us continue. We may have to get al sorts of new permits and getting the ones we have was like something out of Dickens.”
Pix graciously decided Faith must be in shock. She also decided she needed to get back into the conversation.
“The man who was kil ed was Mitchel Pierce. I don't think your paths ever crossed. He never had a permanent place on the island.' Until now, she added silently. 'He restored old houses, sold antiques, and tended to move around a lot.'
“Isn't he the one who left Louel a Prescott holding the bag?' Faith had become friendly with the baker. 'Yes, that was Mitch.'
“I can't see Louel a committing murder over a few crul ers, though.”
This time, Tom interrupted.
“How are you and Samantha? It must have been terrifying for you”
Pix felt a warm glow, a combination of Tom and Johnnie Walker.
“It was at first, but we're al right now. Fortunately, the dog only unearthed a hand.'
“Oh, Pix'—now it was Faith's turn—'I've been such a jerk, thinking of my own petty concerns when you and Samantha have been through a horrendous day. What can we do? Should I come up?'
“No,' Pix and Tom said in unison, Pix adding, 'There real y isn't anything you could do, and I know how busy you are getting ready for al those Fourth of July parties.”
The Fairchilds' doorbel rang audibly in the background.
“That's probably Sam,' Pix told them.
“Why don't you get it, sweetheart,' Faith said. Tom said good-bye and hung up the phone.
“Now, Pix,' Faith said sternly, 'I know you've seen me get involved in a number of murder cases, but it's not something I recommend, and I think you should stay out of al this as much as possible.”
Pix found herself feeling somewhat annoyed. Who had located Penny Bartlett missing in Boston last year? It hadn't been Faith, but none other than her faithful friend and neighbor. Surely this same friend and neighbor should be able to ferret out a few salient details about Mitchel Pierce's death here on Sanpere, where she knew not only the names and characteristics of al the flora and fauna but the two-legged inhabitants and their habits and habitats, as wel .
“Please, Pix, listen to me. It could be dangerous. I'm sure it's a total coincidence that someone picked our particular cel ar hole, but you can't be too careful.”
It was al Pix could do to refrain from comment, something referring to Faith's possible reactions upon hearing these same words. But Faith had become her dearest friend, and if she was a bit insensitive, a bit self-absorbed, a bit like a steam rol er, other sterling qualities more than made up for it.
So she said, 'Yes, Faith' as meekly as she could muster and hung up with promises to stay in touch with everyone on the hour every hour if necessary. Sam had picked up the extension and both he and Tom were exhorting her along the same lines Faith had.
She hung up, drained her glass, and then remembered: She had total y forgotten to tel Faith that Seth hadn't done any work since Memorial Day.
It would just have to wait.
Three
No one claimed the body.
After the medical examiner finished the autopsy and established that the cause of death was most certainly due to multiple stab wounds, the state police let it be known that whoever wanted to was free to take Mitchel and hold whatever last rites deemed fitting and proper. The remains were transported to the back room of Durgen's Funeral Home in Granvil e, pending the wishes of the near and dear.
Those wishes were stil pending at the end of the week, by which time Donald Durgen had sensibly opted for cremation. Aside from the obvious reason, Donald told his brother and partner, Marvin, 'We don't know how long we're going to have Mitch's company. Could be quite a while, and you know we need the space.' He conscientiously labeled the cardboard box and placed it next to their tax receipts from 1980 to 1985. If someone wanted to come along and pay for an urn, why then they'd be only too happy, but for the moment, 'Mitch would stay filed.
That Mitchel Pierce had been stabbed to death with a hunting knife did not make the investigation any easier. On Sanpere, hunting was not merely a sport but a passion, and in many cases, a necessity. Finding a household without a hunting knife would be as surprising as the use to which this particular one had been put. Far in advance of opening day, knives and guns were honed and oiled, stories told and stretched. The winners of the state moose lottery, those fortunate individuals who got the chance to track a real y big creature, were targets of envy for weeks.
But the fact remained: No one seemed to be in a hurry to claim any kinship with Mitch. He seemed destined to remain at Durgen's, not even perched by the one window in the room where his spirit would have had an unobstructed bird's-eye view across the harbor to the old granite quarries on Crandal Island and straight out to Isle au Haut, rising from the sea in the distance—with its Mount Champlain resembling some sort of Down East version of Bali Hai.
Durgen's was one of the best vantage points in Granvil e.
Pix was expressing her surprise at Mitchel 's lack of earthly ties to Louise Frazier who had cal ed to remind the Mil ers about the Fraziers' annual Independence Day clambake on Sunday.
“The police have tried to track down a relative or even a close friend, but so far no luck. There's got to be somebody. It's real y very sad. I told Sam we ought to bury him and hold a smal service. There's plenty of room in the plot, and I don't imagine mother would mind. I can't stand thinking of him on some shelf at Durgen's for eternity, but Sam is sure someone wil turn up. He told me to wait.”
He'd also told her that there was no way Ursula was going to let a nonfamily member eavesdrop on their conversations in the next life, particularly when they had been careful to avoid revealing more than where to replace a two-by-four in this. Pix was sure her mother would be more accepting, but Sam convinced her to let things lie for the moment.
“It is odd,' Louise agreed, 'but Mitchel was a loner. He seemed to know everybody—and he certainly knew a lot about everybody; he was a wonderful gossip—but I can't ever remember his having a good friend. Nobody lived with him whenever he was on the island, although he lived with plenty of people.”
