Nobody Knows Your Secret

13

Hadley was making a pot of fresh-brewed Brazilian coffee when she heard the familiar "thunk" of Randy the Rocket's morning paper delivery. As she went to the front porch to retrieve the paper, she peered down the street just in time to see the tail end of a bicycle disappearing around the corner of the cul-de-sac.

 How anyone could throw papers onto porches and pedal away so quickly was one of life's unsolved mysteries. Maybe the Rocket would grow up to be a major league pitcher or a professional cyclist.

She bypassed the headlines and went straight to the obituaries. If Beanie was off grave-digging duty, she thought maybe they could begin cleaning out Eustian Singlepenny's house.

Bill had given her the okay to start now that the legal wrangling over his murder had been cleared up. Since all the obituary notices involved people on the other side of the county, she thought, it  Beanie would not be busy.

"Go for it," she muttered to Onus, who ignored her, preferring to poke his head inside a tiny, empty box he'd found.

She went to the refrigerator and retrieved the baloney. Removing the bread from the breadbox, she pulled eight slices from the bag. If they were going to be working as hard as she suspected today, she reasoned they would need extra sustenance. 

Putting the sandwiches together, she sliced them into halves. She wrapped the sandwiches in wax paper and put them into a plastic bag. 

Rummaging around in the pantry, she found some chips and a bag of cookies that did not have chocolate covering them. There was nothing more frustrating than trying to separate cookies that had melted together to form a giant chocolate mess. 

She sliced off several thick slices of chocolate pound cake and threw a couple of apples into the bag for good measure.

Hadley bought Harry a small cooler to take fishing years ago. Remembering where she stored it, she retrieved it from the garage, washed it out, dug some ice cubes out of the ice maker and filled it full. Throwing in some sodas and bottled water and the bag of sandwiches, Hadley was pleased with the menu.

Onus was still obsessing about how to cram his fat head into the tiny space inside the box.

"Hey Onus, mind your manners. Don't tear up the house today."

She went to the cabinet and got a can of cat food out. She opened it and placed it in his dish. "Guess you could use a snack, too," she said. "Give it up, old bird. Your round head just ain't gonna fit into that square hole."

Onus ignored her advice. Why should he care what she thought? Ignorant human.

"Guess it's time to round up Beanie," Hadley said, gathering her supplies and packing the car.

Hadley was wearing her oldest jeans. A ratty old tee and a faded long-sleeve shirt completed her ensemble. She donned Harry's old baseball hat and her old hiking boots. 

Sticking out of her rear pocket was an old pair of leather gardening gloves. The only thing left to do was make sure Eustian Singlepenny's house key was in her purse. 

It was.

Time to go. 

As she backed out into the street, she waved at her neighbor, Ivy Benedict. Ivy was harvesting huckleberries for her homemade wine. What Ivy could do in her kitchen with some cheesecloth, an empty gallon jug, some sugar, yeast, huckleberries, and a balloon to go atop the jug was amazing. Hadley had tasted some of Ivy's products from her little in-home winery.

As she drove past Ivy's house, she wondered if Beanie was still at home or if he was making his usual rounds around town.