any reason, he calls. Let me try to reach him. I tried yesterday and didn't get an answer, but figured if he was skipping work, he was ignoring me," Jeff replied. He dialed and listened.
"Nope. Voice mail," he said. "Yes. Maybe we should worry. Do you want to drive or shall I?"
"I'll drive," she sighed. "If he's doing something strange in that house though, you're dealing with it, not me."
Polly had taken Harry home one afternoon when his car had been in the shop, so she knew where he lived. They pulled into the driveway of his small house and went to the front door.
She stopped as she raised her hand to knock on the door and sniffed the air. "Damn it. I hate to tell you that I recognize this smell."
Jeff wrinkled his nose and sniffed, then grimaced and asked, "Really?"
"Really."
She looked at the door, drew her sleeve over her hand and said, "Don't touch anything," and pulled the screen door open. With a gentle push of the front door, she opened it into the living room. Lying on the floor in a pool of blood from a head wound was their fourth custodian, Harry Bern. That was all she needed to see.
"I'm not going in there," she said.
"Yeah. If he was alive, we wouldn't be able to smell it clear out here," Jeff agreed.
They walked back to the front yard and Polly pulled out her cell phone, dialing a very familiar number.
"Hello, Polly. Don't tell me you've found another body," Aaron Merritt, the sheriff, said. Aaron was Lydia's husband and the two of them had taken care of Polly through many a mishap. She could have called the local police, but knew that Aaron would tell her what to do next.
"Why do you ask me that every time I call you?" she asked.
"Because you call my wife unless something bad has happened. You've found more bodies than any one person should," he responded. "But, how can I help you today?"
"I found another body." Polly's voice was flat.
"No kidding!" Aaron laughed at her and then apologized. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh. Oh, Polly. You can't be serious!"
"No," she whimpered. "I wish I were. This morning Harry Bern didn't come in to work for the second day in a row and when Jeff and I came over to his house to check on him … well, he's very dead."
"How do you know he's dead?"
"I opened the front door because I smelled something rather familiar. Aaron, I can't believe that I have that scent in my memory. Don't worry, I used the sleeve of my shirt and didn't touch anything. He's in a pool of blood in his front room. I didn't go in to check, though. See, watching police shows is good for me and you, right?"
"Polly, I'm sorry I laughed. I'm calling Ken and he'll have someone over there right away. Do you mind staying until they arrive?"
She sighed. "We'll be in my truck."
"I'll talk to you later. I'm sorry about this Polly," he said, but she heard him chuckling as he hung up.
"We wait?" Jeff asked.
"Yes. We wait. Someone should be here pretty soon." They got back into her truck and she backed out onto the street. She knew if she didn't, the locals would come in with multiple police cars, a fire truck and the EMTs and she'd be trapped. She wanted to be able to get out of there as soon as possible. She put the truck in park, sat back and closed her eyes.
"You know this is going to increase my infamy, don't you?" she asked, with her eyes still closed. "Henry isn't going to believe this when I tell him."
Jeff started laughing. "I know this is a tragedy," he said, "but you have to admit, it's over the top funny. There is no one other than you who could have walked into this situation."
Polly started to chuckle and then snorted through her nose. "I know!" and pretty soon she was laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. "How in the world does this happen to me?"
She opened her eyes, turned her head toward Jeff and said, "And crap, we have to hire another custodian!"
They were both laughing when Ken Wallers, Bellingwood's police chief, pulled up and into the driveway. He walked over to her truck
"Nope. Voice mail," he said. "Yes. Maybe we should worry. Do you want to drive or shall I?"
"I'll drive," she sighed. "If he's doing something strange in that house though, you're dealing with it, not me."
Polly had taken Harry home one afternoon when his car had been in the shop, so she knew where he lived. They pulled into the driveway of his small house and went to the front door.
She stopped as she raised her hand to knock on the door and sniffed the air. "Damn it. I hate to tell you that I recognize this smell."
Jeff wrinkled his nose and sniffed, then grimaced and asked, "Really?"
"Really."
She looked at the door, drew her sleeve over her hand and said, "Don't touch anything," and pulled the screen door open. With a gentle push of the front door, she opened it into the living room. Lying on the floor in a pool of blood from a head wound was their fourth custodian, Harry Bern. That was all she needed to see.
"I'm not going in there," she said.
"Yeah. If he was alive, we wouldn't be able to smell it clear out here," Jeff agreed.
They walked back to the front yard and Polly pulled out her cell phone, dialing a very familiar number.
"Hello, Polly. Don't tell me you've found another body," Aaron Merritt, the sheriff, said. Aaron was Lydia's husband and the two of them had taken care of Polly through many a mishap. She could have called the local police, but knew that Aaron would tell her what to do next.
"Why do you ask me that every time I call you?" she asked.
"Because you call my wife unless something bad has happened. You've found more bodies than any one person should," he responded. "But, how can I help you today?"
"I found another body." Polly's voice was flat.
"No kidding!" Aaron laughed at her and then apologized. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh. Oh, Polly. You can't be serious!"
"No," she whimpered. "I wish I were. This morning Harry Bern didn't come in to work for the second day in a row and when Jeff and I came over to his house to check on him … well, he's very dead."
"How do you know he's dead?"
"I opened the front door because I smelled something rather familiar. Aaron, I can't believe that I have that scent in my memory. Don't worry, I used the sleeve of my shirt and didn't touch anything. He's in a pool of blood in his front room. I didn't go in to check, though. See, watching police shows is good for me and you, right?"
"Polly, I'm sorry I laughed. I'm calling Ken and he'll have someone over there right away. Do you mind staying until they arrive?"
She sighed. "We'll be in my truck."
"I'll talk to you later. I'm sorry about this Polly," he said, but she heard him chuckling as he hung up.
"We wait?" Jeff asked.
"Yes. We wait. Someone should be here pretty soon." They got back into her truck and she backed out onto the street. She knew if she didn't, the locals would come in with multiple police cars, a fire truck and the EMTs and she'd be trapped. She wanted to be able to get out of there as soon as possible. She put the truck in park, sat back and closed her eyes.
"You know this is going to increase my infamy, don't you?" she asked, with her eyes still closed. "Henry isn't going to believe this when I tell him."
Jeff started laughing. "I know this is a tragedy," he said, "but you have to admit, it's over the top funny. There is no one other than you who could have walked into this situation."
Polly started to chuckle and then snorted through her nose. "I know!" and pretty soon she was laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. "How in the world does this happen to me?"
She opened her eyes, turned her head toward Jeff and said, "And crap, we have to hire another custodian!"
They were both laughing when Ken Wallers, Bellingwood's police chief, pulled up and into the driveway. He walked over to her truck
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