Railroad Ties: The Marmion Grove Murders by M.S. Spencer

Railroad Ties:  The Marmion Grove Murders

by M.S. Spencer

A Cozy Mystery

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Book Blurb:

When Sophie Childress discovers a letter written in 1920 by the witness to a murder, she enlists Noah Pennyman—owner of the house where it took place—to investigate. Who was the victim? What did the killer do with the body—not to mention a carpetbag full of money? Together they expose a complex web of family ties and lies that has persisted through four generations in the historic village of Marmion Grove. When two more corpses are unearthed, Noah and Sophie are faced with too many victims and not enough murderers.

Excerpt:

The men shuffled their feet. Finally, Fred said, “Look here, we have probable cause to consider this a crime scene. Murray, get Captain Hinckley on the horn—see if we need a warrant. If he thinks the mayor should be informed, he can contact him.” Murray returned after a minute, clicking his phone off. “He says we don’t require a search warrant since it’s on public property, but to get permission from the mayor to be on the safe side. If we find anything, we’re to secure the scene.” There was a moment of uncertainty. The dog walkers closed in. “Hey, Peggy, what’s going on?” “Never you mind, Matthew Crockett. You neither, Angela.” They sauntered by, casting inquiring looks. Noah turned to Mrs. Dane. “We could use another shovel. Do you have an extra?” “Certainly. I’ll get it.” “And maybe a tarp to hold the plants and soil.” “I’ll help you.” Sophie followed Peggy around the back of the building. Peggy unlocked a shed and drew out a long-handled spade and a folded tarp. Sophie asked tentatively, “Do you think they’ll find anything?” Peggy chortled. “You’d be astounded how many bodies are buried in a small town. This wouldn’t be the first.” Bodies. “Um, Mrs. Dane? Oscar said you and he were old friends. That’s why you called him. Has he…has he told you anything he’s not telling us?” Peggy’s response was sudden and dramatic. She flushed as pink as her bathrobe and stood stock still. Eyes glittering, she snapped, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sophie plunged on. “I noticed you two exchanging…um…signals.” The older woman fingered the top button of her robe nervously. “This can’t go beyond these walls.” Sophie refrained from pointing out they were outdoors. “I understand.” Peggy’s voice dropped. “Oscar and I… We are… We were…” Sophie saw the light. “You two are—” She cut her off. “That’s all you need to know.” “So Oscar didn’t just happen to be in the neighborhood.” “No.” Peggy’s color gradually returned to normal. “Here, take this tarp, and I’ll bring the spade.” When they returned, Noah and Ian had their jackets off. “George says go for it.” Oscar lurched forward. “No!” Kendrick held him back. “It’s for the best, Dad. We’ve kept the secret long enough.” The policeman looked at them in consternation. “Secret?” “A family tragedy.” Sophie wondered if they were going to come up with yet another whopper. This family is the slickest bunch of dissemblers I’ve ever seen. Aside from Harry, that is. Noah and Ian set to, Noah on the south side and Ian on the north. “Let’s hope it’s not under the shelter itself.” The mound of dirt on the tarp rose higher and higher. The sun was reaching its zenith when Ian’s spade struck something. “Help me here, Noah.” They scrabbled in the dirt. “Wait—stop! It looks like a hand.” Peggy turned her face away. The others looked on. “Be careful! That’s the arm bone. Oh, and a leg. Is that a hat?” Murray got a whisk broom from his patrol car. “Brush away the soil from its head. Be careful!” Noah did so. They stood back. “Huh.” “Huh.” The skeleton that lay exposed still wore the tattered remains of denim overalls. A ball cap covered its skull. “Pretty sure it’s a male.” Ian said, “He’s not dressed like a businessman. Can’t be Filou.” Kendrick contemplated the figure. “Blue collar. Laborer.” “Wait, there’s a patch on his shirt.” Murray bent down. It says ‘B&O.’ He must have worked for the railroad.” “But who the hell is he?”

Author Bio:

Librarian, anthropologist, research assistant, Congressional aide, speechwriter, nonprofit director—M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five of the seven continents and holds degrees in Anthropology, Middle East Studies, and Library Science. She has published eighteen mystery or romantic suspense novels. She has two children, an exuberant granddaughter, and currently divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.