The flowerpot didn’t look like it had been moved, for it was still covering the stain on her deck. Then I noticed a latch and padlock on the door. On closer examination, I saw where they had forced the door open, making it impossible to lock securely. At least they had the decency to jury rig a lock so no one could simply walk in. The key under the flowerpot would be of no help now, so all I could do was peek through the windows to confirm what I already knew. They had gone through her kitchen cabinets, and moved the living room furniture. I couldn’t see into the bedroom, but could imagine the mattress on the floor, and all of her dresser drawers open. There was no longer any doubt in my mind that someone was trying to frame Bonnie by planting the copy of Tom Sawyer. I had a feeling once I checked into it, I’d find it belonged to Shelia.
***
I sneaked into Bonnie’s hospital room early Saturday morning, and told her about the sheriff searching her home.
“Someone is trying to frame me?” she asked. I had guessed correctly that Margot would not be up this early, though, I didn’t count on the head nurse at the nurses’ station telling me to come back at visiting hours. I had pretended to leave, then came back from the hall on the other side of Bonnie’s room, bypassing the nurses.
I held my finger to my lips in the universal sign to be quiet when she had asked the question too loudly. “It’s the only logical explanation,” I whispered. “Why else would they put the two things in your house that can tie you to Shelia’s murder and then call the cops telling them where to find the evidence?”
“That sounds like my nail file, but are you sure it’s her book?”
“She wrote ‘Property of Shelia Clancy’ on the inside cover.”
Bonnie squirmed in an attempt to get comfortable and knocked a pillow on the floor. “Clancy? Oh, that must have been her maiden name. I wonder who’s doing it. It can’t be the kids or Appleton. They’re all dead.”
There was an extra pillow on the empty bed next to her, so I took it, and the one on the floor, and put them behind her head. “I’m pretty sure I know who the gray haired lady is, and you’re not going to like it,” I said once she’d settled back down.
“Oh, and who would that be?”
“I think you already know.”
Bonnie reached for her water bottle and took a sip from the straw. “No, Jake, it’s not Patty, if that’s what you’re thinking. She was with me the night Shelia was killed.”
“I didn’t say she killed anyone. I still think Craig did those dirty deeds. But she fits the description perfectly of the person who broke into your house to frame you.”
She put the bottle back on the bedside table before answering. “It’s not her, Jake.”
I took a deep breath and held it for a minute. “Okay, Bon Bon, I really don’t care anymore. I just need to get Julie’s book and ring from whoever took them.”
“What about Shelia’s book? You’re not going to leave it out in the weather are you?”
“It’s wrapped up in the best plastic money can buy. I buried it in a grocery bag. Those bags are supposed to last a thousand years in the landfill, so it should be okay for a few days. I’ll get it when I’m sure the cops aren’t coming back.”
I expected her to mention the nail file, too, but she caught me completely off guard. “I need you to do me a couple big favors, Jake.”
“The last time you asked that I committed a crime hiding state’s evidence. What kind of felony do you want me to commit this time?”
It was good to see her color had returned along with her smile. “Would you fix my front door for me?”
“Consider it done. What’s the other favor?”
“Sneak me in some cigarettes. I’m going to die if I don’t get one soon.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I lied. I had no intention of feeding her addiction. “Now tell me all you know about Patty.”
“The gray haired woman wasn’t Patty, Jake.”
“How can you be so sure? I’d bet my next paycheck, if I ever get one, that it was her.”
Bonnie started to laugh, but covered her mouth when she realized she might be heard by a nurse. “You can pay me with those cigarettes. Patty doesn’t drive.”
***
I was so sure it had been Patty who planted the evidence to frame Bonnie. Now I didn’t have a clue who it was, but I knew I’d better find out before the woman I saw realized her frame didn’t work.
This narrowed my list of suspects to one: Craig Renfield. I suppose he could have dressed up as an old lady to throw off anyone who had been watching Bonnie’s. After all, I didn’t get a close look at the old woman. Then again, he was way too tall. Stair handrails need to be between thirty-four and thirty-eight inches, according to most building codes, so the woman I saw had to be around five feet tall, give or take an inch. Whoever it was, I was sure she would try again, and I had the perfect plan to catch her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Removing the lock on Bonnie’s door took all of five minutes with my portable grinder, and I had a new, pre-hung door installed in less than an hour. I used her old deadbolt so she wouldn’t have to get new keys, however, I did remove the key from under the flowerpot and put it on my key chain where it would stay until she returned home. Working with my hands is the best way I know of to work out one’s problems, or in my case, the perfect plan.
My original idea to install surveillance cameras went south when I saw online how much it would cost, so I came up with a low-tech solution that would make MacGyver proud. Bonnie had one of those lights that went on whenever someone came within proximity of its sensor. They have a photoelectric cell that prevents the light from coming on during the day, so I simply bypassed that feature by taping over it. Then I removed the bulb and replaced it with one of those adapters that have two power outlets and a bulb socket. After screwing her flood-light back in, I connected a long extension cord to one of the power outlets, and ran it up to my house where I plugged in a lamp and a radio. Now if anyone approached Bonnie’s door, day or night, my lamp and radio would come on at the same time as Bonnie’s floodlight.
To complete the system, I took an old camcorder I hadn’t used in ten years and plugged its power adapter into the second outlet on Bonnie’s modified security light. By turning the camcorder on and removing the battery, it would only record when something tripped the security light. The bottom of the camcorder was designed so it could be screwed into a tripod. I found a long bolt the same size and with the same thread pattern then drilled a hole in her top deck rail, inserted the bolt from the bottom, and attached the camcorder. A clear-plastic bag served to waterproof the contraption, and a rubber band around the lens kept that part of the plastic from distorting the picture. In the end, I had an alarm and surveillance system that would make Scrooge jealous.
Now that I was set to catch whoever had tried to frame Bonnie, I needed to get back to my problem. I didn’t want to break into Appleton’s cabin again, but I had to get Julie’s property back.
***
By Monday morning, Fred and I were ready to visit Appleton’s cabin and look for my property. This time I wasn’t going to park my car anywhere near the scene of the crime where some nosy neighbor could get my license number. In one of my more inspired moments, I decided I would park a mile or two away, and ride my mountain bike the rest of the way. Poor Fred couldn’t ride of course, so he was in for some overdue exercise. At least, that was the plan until I saw a Mercedes SUV come up my road. It had to be the author from the book signing, for although those rigs were not uncommon in the more affluent neighborhoods of Evergreen, their owners rarely ventured this far up a dirt road unless they were selling real estate.