Up from the Grave Read Online Free PDF Page A

furthermore,” was all Wilkie managed to get out when another booming voice interrupted.
    “Wilkie Gordon, do sit down.” The tall and commanding Colonel Preswood was on his feet, shoulders squared and jaw tight, spitting the words in the old dissenter’s direction. “For heaven’s sake, man, get a grip.” Though his suit was nicely tailored and pressed, his broad features were sour as he addressed the crowd. “Our guest can do whatever she chooses with her money. Now let’s get on with what we’re here for.”
    In haste Mr. Webb half-whispered words of reassurance to the countess. “Don’t pay any mind to them.” He pushed the spade handle into her palm, pointing to the ground. “Now!” commanded the harassed council president.
    Berdie watched Hugh who had also risen to his feet. She knew he’d put things in place and restore the calm. But before he could speak, the contessa pushed the polished tool up to the hilt into the soil. Despite her spike-heeled shoes, and with some labor, she turned its contents over. The woman’s face went pale. A voluble shriek escaped from the pink shimmering lips of Contessa Santolio.
    All heads, as if observing a tennis match, moved from the Wilkie Gordon-Colonel Preswood drama to the elegant woman who threw down the large spade with such force it almost made a direct plant on Mr. Webb’s Italian leather shoe.
    The head of council peered into the newly made hole. His face became morose.
    Berdie watched Hugh place himself delicately to take a peek at what was causing such a reaction. Indeed, half the audience was now straining forward as if to catch a glimpse. The very proper Mrs. Plinkerton, a respected member of the parish council seated closest to the cavity, peered into the soil.
    “Bones,” she screeched. Her aging face whitened, and she fell back against her chair, sending her large pink hat on a tumble.
    “Bones?” Berdie said aloud.
    The council members next to Mrs. Plinkerton grabbed the hat and worked furiously to fan her.
    Hugh raised his hands calmly. “Let’s keep our sensibilities. First, Edsel, would you please get Mrs. Plinkerton a glass of water?”
    Edsel Butz made way to the church.
    Hugh’s voice was clear and strong. “All our lands are open grazing. It’s very likely nothing more than the remains of a sheep.”
    “You’ve desecrated a grave,” someone yelled in the crowd.
    “Let’s not rush to judgment,” Hugh cautioned.
    Berdie sensed someone bending towards her.
    “What’s going on?” Dr. Loren Meredith’s voice could melt butter. “I just arrived. Looks a bit of a mad house.”
    With Lillie’s love interest, the pathologist Dr. Loren Meredith, being so near, Berdie became aware of his unique scent. It was a combination of fresh scrubbed soap and a touch of mountain air. What a shame, she thought, that the rest of the afternoon wasn’t as pleasant as Dr. Meredith’s presence.
    “I’m afraid the whole affair has gone a bit pear shaped,” Berdie responded. And not just before Constable Goodnight poked his considerable finger into the doctor’s shoulder.
    “Need your services if you please,” he grumbled through his mustache. “Come along.”
    The handsome physician followed Goodnight to the gouged earth.
    The constable bellowed forth making his rotund shape heave. “Everyone sit down, or I’ll arrest the lot of ya.”
    The boom sent baby Katy Donovan into a great crying frenzy, which soon became a chorus when Dotty Butz and several other infants joined in. Few paid attention to Goodnight’s command.
    Dr. Meredith bent close to the earth and pushed aside additional dirt revealing more remains.
    Berdie’s curiosity got the better of her, and deftly she stepped to the sight the doctor examined.
    “Human, a little one,” the pathologist said discreetly and stood.
    “Well I never,” Berdie exhaled, “of all times and places.”
    “Quite,” the animated voice of Mr. Webb sounded. “Surely, there’s been some