Clandestine: A Story of Three Sisters

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven- Discoveries

Pop and Momma had run up the hall when they heard the girls' screams, Jed close behind. Momma had fainted at the sight, falling heavily onto the carpeted floor. Charlotte was the only one keeping herself together. She quickly slapped enough sense into Madison so the two of them could lean Momma up and try to fan her face.

Jed and Pop just stared into the room, up at the hanging body, it slowly swinging back and forth on the rope. It was so slow, you had to watch closely to notice it, and that's all the men could do: stand and watch.

Jed placed a strong hand on Mr. Clandestine's back to keep him up in case he fell too, but it was also support for himself. Upon seeing the body, he'd felt as if all the blood had drained out of him, and he was just a lifeless wisp floating in one spot, that couldn't move away and take its eyes off the horror. Abby, his Abby... She was gone. Gone, and it was unimaginable. Only moments before had they been so happy, lying in each other's arms, and now...

Jed snapped out of his own misery and hid it well. For the next hour, he assisted the Clandestines away from the room, seating everyone in the parlor and finally reviving Mrs. Clandestine. Word was sent out into town and the sheriff appeared quickly. He and his officers examined the room and finally brought Abigail down, while Jed gave a quick speech to the staff to carry on and bring tea to the parlor. No one drank it, but they held their cups in their hands because it felt normal. It was normal and solid, and it kept them from falling apart.

After some time, Sheriff Pimberly stood in the doorway and asked to speak to Mr. Clandestine. Jed followed after he received a nod from Mr. Clandestine, standing behind him as the sheriff held his conference.

"We've cleaned up in the room," the sheriff whispered to them. "And have only taken the evidence we needed, the rope and such. Her body is on its way to the morgue."

"Evidence?" Jed caught. "Why evidence?"

"Well, you see now," Sheriff Pimberly looked uncomfortable. "That's the tricky part. Mr. Clandestine, do you think there was ever any reason for your daughter to take her own life?"

"I would never have thought..." Mr. Clandestine paused before he could let his emotions take over. He cleared his throat to continue, simply answering with a curt, "No."

"Now you see, there is no motive." Pimberly stated. "And after examining the set up of the crime scene, other things do not add up. For instance, and pardon my frank statements from now on, to hang oneself, one must first stand on a chair or step of some sort, tie the noose around their neck, and then kick off from the chair so they hang. However, there was no kind of step under Abigail. Now, the only logical way she could have done it without a step would be to jump off her bed. However, after we measured the length of the rope, compared it to the distance between the ceiling lamp where it was hung and her bed, and also compared it all to Abigail's height, she could not have possibly done it from her bed either."

"What're you saying, Sheriff?" Jed asked, sensing Mr. Clandestine's discomfort.

"I know this sounds mad," Pimberly sighed. "But I don't think your daughter took her own life. Sir, I'm sorry to say, I think Abigail was murdered."

Mr. Clandestine leaned back against Jed, trying to hold himself up. "Murdered? What--what--" he could no longer form coherent sentences. Jed stood stock still, completely in shock. It was as if his mind were turned off, he just could no longer think straight.

"I know, it's unbelievable. But there is no other explanation for how she could have gotten up there. I couldn't believe it either, but then we checked some other things, and found a bump at the back of her head. This means someone knocked her unconscious and hung her up. I'm terribly sorry," Pimberly shook his head.

"Who could've done this?" Mr. Clandestine managed to whisper, and the words were like a key to open Jed's mind again. His brain was racing, the cogs in his head turning at incredible speeds as he tried to make sense of it all.

"Mr. Clandestine," Jed said quietly. "Perhaps you don't want to hear this right now, and perhaps I am completely mistaken, but I may have an idea of a possible culprit."

"Jedediah, no time will be the right time to tell me. But, go on."

"It only just occurred to my mind because he had approached me on numerous occasions, and the way he spoke about Abigail seemed overly protective. Maybe obsessive."

"Who?" Pimberly asked.

"The farm worker, Mr. Atticus."

"We'll have to question him and the other staff who may know something, but it is a start. Thank you, I will keep you informed on any findings." With that, Pimberly and his officers left to talk to the staff.

"William Atticus?" Mr. Clandestine asked. "He's always been so dutiful and hard-working. I cannot imagine..."

"It would be hard to imagine anyone wanting to kill Abby," Jed whispered. He tucked his emotions away and continued, "But like the sheriff said, it's only a start. And I cannot shake the way Mr. Atticus has been towards Abigail."

Mr. Clandestine nodded, and sadly said, "I suppose we'd better go back to the ladies now. It will be heartbreaking, but it would be better coming from me for them to hear Abigail was murdered."