by Dale Mayer
Doreen smiled. “Apparently I have a different perspective that’s shaking things up a little. You’re still in the same house you lived in when Johnny went missing?”
Penny nodded. “Yes, but not for much longer. I guess that’s another reason why I’m feeling the time pressure to solve this. I’m listing the house for sale soon and hoping to move into a condo closer to my older daughter’s as soon as I get my house sold.”
“So that could be within two weeks, or it could be two months,” Doreen said.
“Or two years. Depending on the market. But it’s a lovely family home.”
“Okay,” Doreen said. “Would you mind if I come and take a look myself, to see the backyard and to get a feel for the location he disappeared from?”
“Sure,” Penny said. “I’ll give you my address when I send you the digital file.”
“I’m sorry,” Doreen said. “Would you like to sit down?”
“No, but thank you anyway. I don’t want to bother you any more than I have, and I should be going. Whenever you’re out that way, just pop on by. The thing to remember is, I don’t know where the crime scene is, if there was one—whether he went for a walk or met his buddies over the back fence because a park abuts our property there or where he might have gone from our home.”
“The park is behind your property?”
“Yes, and, to make matters worse, he used that gate all the time. I think he came and went most of the time that way.”
“So, if somebody called to him from the park or sent him a text, he would have gone to meet him, using that gate, correct?”
“Except for the fact we couldn’t afford to buy a cell phone back then, and texting didn’t exist,” Penny said with a smile.
“Right, of course not,” Doreen said with a shake of her head. “But that doesn’t mean he didn’t have somebody who stuck his head over the gate and called out to him.”
“We saw his friends do that often. At one point we had to stop him from buying drugs that way.”
At that, Doreen’s eyebrows shot up.
Penny nodded. “But what can you do? He had just George in his life. Their parents had died a couple years earlier. Johnny had been a teenager then, and George had given him a home, helping him to grow up. But Johnny was fighting that. He had a job at the hardware store. He had a girlfriend, but that relationship wasn’t stable. As a matter of fact, the girlfriend said, at that time, they hadn’t had anything to do with each other for a couple months before he went missing. She didn’t mention any reason behind their breakup. Just that she’d found somebody else soon afterward.”
“Is her name and other pertinent personal information in the file?”
Penny frowned. “I think so. Her name was Susan Robinson. She died of breast cancer about a year ago.”
“Oh, wow,” Doreen said. “So is everybody from his circle no longer around?”
“Yes. Johnny’s two buddies and his girlfriend. They were together all the time. They didn’t really hang out with any others to the same extent. At least not that I knew of. And, yes, they are all dead now. All you have are the witness statements in most cases. And I don’t have copies of all those.” She hesitated, then looked sideways at Doreen. “I know this is very inappropriate and pushy,” she said, “but I was hoping you would have connections with Mack, and maybe you could get the other information I don’t have.”
“I’m not sure he can do that,” Doreen said. Just then Mugs slumped to the floor half on and half off her foot. Squatting to scratch Mugs behind the ear. “I don’t know what their rules and regulations are, but I can ask him.”
“Right. I’m sure all kinds of red tape stop him from giving you too much information,” Penny said with a sigh. “And how frustrating is that? All I want to know is what happened to Johnny.”
“You’ve had no contact since, and he was a healthy young man?”
Penny nodded. “He was healthy. He was footloose and fancy-free. He was a young man, but he didn’t have a whole lot of purpose. He didn’t really know what he wanted to do. He didn’t like working at the hardware store. He had visions of a much bigger, more grandiose lifestyle, but honestly he hadn’t reached the point where he wanted to put in the work to make it happen.”
“Oh. So a typical young man,” Doreen said with a smirk.
“Exactly,” Penny agreed. “George got really frustrated with him, and that was hard because I always heard about it. But, at the same time, I couldn’t do or say anything to make it any better.”
“No. Young men have to be young men, and they grow up in their own time frame,” Doreen said.
“Do you have any children?” Penny asked.
“No,” Doreen said. “Not yet. At my age, probably not likely to happen.”
“We have two daughters,” Penny said. “And I have to admit that it was much easier to have daughters than to always look at a son and wonder if the same thing would happen to him. We kept a very close eye on the girls growing up, but I think they understood just how devastating losing their uncle had been for us. Yet, of course, young people know it all and have all the answers.” Penny laughed a little. “Only as they get older do they realize they never had any wisdom to begin with.” She gave a wry smile.
Doreen nodded. “Okay, I’ll go through this. Please don’t have any expectations that I will find anything.”
“No,” Penny said. “Of course not.” She reached out a hand and squeezed Doreen’s. “I’m just happy to know somebody will look into it and that Johnny won’t be forgotten forever.”
“I can understand that,” Doreen said slowly. “I think that’s one of the reasons why I pursue these cases. Because families are waiting for answers. People need closure. Some folks’ whole lives are lost in worrying and wondering what happened. I can’t imagine anything worse.”
Mugs got up and walked over to sniff Penny’s leg. He rubbed his head against her calf.
She bent to pet him. “Well, he’s a new addition.”
“He is, indeed,” Doreen said. “Mugs came with me. Goliath is still here. So is Thaddeus.”
Penny nodded, as if the names didn’t mean anything to her, and it occurred to Doreen that she didn’t know how long Nan had had Thaddeus and Goliath, a name Doreen had given the cat. So there was a good chance Penny hadn’t met either of them.
Penny turned and walked back to the front door, smiling at the bags of clothing. “You have a lot of stuff to go to Goodwill.”
“I do,” Doreen said. “Honestly I’ll probably take a bunch of this to the consignment store. Nan had some very good-quality clothing.”
“Oh, that’s a lovely idea,” Penny said. “I shop there quite a bit. Wendy has a lovely store.”
Interestingly she didn’t look ashamed or in any way put out by telling somebody she shopped at a secondhand store. “I’ll have to check it out,” Doreen said. “I dropped off some clothes already, but I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to look for anything for myself.”
“Wendy has a great selection,” Penny said. “Check it out while you’re there.” With a wave of her hand, she walked onto the front porch and down the steps.
Once again Doreen stood on the front porch, waiting for somebody to drive away. She didn’t know why she needed to make sure people left. It probably had to do with the fact she was still hoarding all these expensive antiques in the house.
As soon as Penny had driven down the cul-de-sac, Doreen stepped back inside, bringing Mugs with her, set the alarm again because now it was almost four o’clock, and headed into the kitchen. “Now to check the back alarm, then go upstairs to check that bed out,” she said.
Her phone rang then. She groaned as she looked down at Mack’s identification. “How do you always know when I’m getting ready to get into something?”
“What are you up to?” he asked as soon as she answered.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m trying to figure out what is taped underneath the bed frame in my bedroom,” she s
aid. “The packers will come early next week. Hopefully on Monday. I need to know about anything hidden in the furniture before they take it. And we found something, but I can’t lift the massive bed frame.”
“With your mind-set,” he said, “I can certainly understand that. What’s underneath it?”
“I don’t know, that’s what I’m trying to figure out. I’ve moved the box spring and the mattress to the floor, because the movers are not taking those. But the bed frame itself is very heavy. Mugs won’t leave it alone. He kept barking at one of the slats, so I checked, and, sure enough, something is taped under it.”
“Mugs, huh?”
“Right. That’s why I’m trying to figure it out. For all I know, it’s nothing. But the bed is heavy. How do I lift it and check out the slat?” She paused. “Are you on your way home?”
“Yeah. I’m leaving the office in five. Why?”
“Well, you could swing by,” she said in a cheerful voice, adding, “and you could lift the bed, and I could look underneath.”
“Umm …”
She could almost see him give a mental shrug.
“Yeah, I can. I’ll be there soon.” And he hung up.
“Now that is perfect,” she said to Mugs.
He just stared at her. She chuckled and headed the way back to her bedroom.
As soon as Mugs returned to the bedroom, he’d hopped inside the slats, which she found amazing because he was pretty rotund. He’d parked right where that piece of paper, or whatever it may be, was. It felt more like plastic than paper. She didn’t know what that meant.
She continued to move stuff out of the master bedroom into the spare bedroom closet. She rearranged some of the furniture in her room so the movers could easily dismantle the bed when they arrived. Then she put new bedding on the mattress. By the time she’d fluffed up the pillows and put them on her makeshift bed, it looked mostly normal on the floor. Then she heard Mack drive up.
Mugs barked and turned around with his belly flat on the floor. He crawled underneath the edge of the bed frame and headed down the stairs. He knew it was Mack. How could he not?
She followed him to shut off the alarm at the front door and got it just in time.
Chapter 5
Wednesday Late Afternoon …
Mack eyed her as she opened the door. “Why are you so flustered?” He bent to pet Mugs and Goliath at his feet.
“I had the alarms on,” she said. “I had to run downstairs and shut it off before you opened the door.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Are you keeping them on, even when you’re home?” He seemed a bit worried.
“I will until the antiques are picked up,” she said. “I can’t take the chance of something happening to those pieces.”
He nodded. “I guess I can understand that.”
She led the way back up to the bedrooms, the animals dashing ahead of them.
When he stepped into the master bedroom, he whistled. “Wow. That bed is even bigger than I remembered it.”
“Right? I moved the mattresses to the floor and now it looks even more crowded. Look at the size of that bed frame.”
“It’s huge.” He shook his head. “I’m not even sure how they’ll take it apart.”
“Well, someone got it in here somehow,” she said. “Although I may have to ask Nan about that.”
“I’d say so. She might have a trick or two,” he said. “What is it you want lifted?”
She pointed to the bed. Just then Mugs wiggled underneath the frame again to the same slat, sat, and growled. Goliath hopped on top and swatted him. Thaddeus was on top of the bedpost staring down at them.
Doreen pointed. “Something is underneath the bed right there by Mugs.”
Mack groaned, reached down with one hand, then bent his knees, lifting the bed frame.
Doreen dove underneath beside Mugs who shoved his snout right at her. She checked all the other slats first. “Nothing else is here, but, whatever this is, I don’t know if I’ll get it off.”
He lifted the frame a bit higher. “Why don’t you come out and grab those two chairs or the boxes you’ve got here, and we’ll put the edge of this frame on them. The ceiling and the four posters to this bed won’t allow me to lift this any higher.”
Following his instructions, she propped up the frame on the boxes she was collecting for Goodwill and the consignment shop.
He tested the weight. “It’s not supremely safe, but it’ll be fine for a few minutes.” Then he crouched under the bed and took a look. “It looks like a letter’s been taped to the slat inside some plastic. Likely to protect the paper over the years.”
He pulled out a pocketknife from his pants pocket and very carefully slid it in the top layer of plastic, just enough so he could pull out the letter. Once it was free, he handed it to her. At that point Mugs laid down under the propped up bed, Goliath had dug his claws into wood and had slid until he was stretched out fully.
She opened it and gasped. “It’s from my great-great-grandmother. It’s a letter to Nan’s mother. I think. Nan was named after her mom, so they both share the name Willa. Another thing I’ll have to clarify with Nan.”
“My dearest granddaughter Willa,” Doreen read aloud. “I’m hoping you’ll have my passion for antiques. I’m not sure why so many have absolutely no love of things old and well-loved. This entire set is for you. I know what it’s worth, and so do you. I also know it doesn’t matter to you. Enjoy it in the spirit it was intended and know that it’s listed in my will. But, should there ever be any contention, keep this letter with the bed so all will know it’s yours. With all my love and the hope that you have an absolutely wonderful and fulfilling life, Nan.”
Tears were in Doreen’s eyes when she stopped reading. She held her hand over her mouth and looked up at Mack.
“So does that mean you don’t want to sell it now?” he asked drily.
She gave a shake of her head. “No, that’s not what I mean. Obviously I’m not in a position to argue about the need for the sale, and the furniture is really not my style. But to think a piece of my own personal history is here, that’s so important.”
He pointed to the date. “And look at that.”
“Wow, 1909,” she read. “Nan wasn’t even alive then,” she said.
He shrugged. “Makes sense to me.”
“Wow,” she repeated. “And she passed it on to my Nan. Just wow.” She shook her head. “I want photos of this letter.”
“Take photographs, and, if you can scan it, then do that too.”
Doreen went downstairs to her printer and scanned the letter, then took a photograph of it with her phone too. She walked back upstairs smiling.
“This is really great. It’s also huge for proving provenance,” Mack said.
“Yes,” Doreen said with a smile. “Nan is seventy-five-ish, and her mother would have been at least twenty or thirty years older.”
“I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to find the paperwork for any of this, but this gives you a specific date to go by.” Mack turned to look at the bed frame. “Are you ready for me to put the letter back in?”
She nodded.
He carefully reinserted it into the plastic sleeve, where it had been kept safe all these years. “Now you can tell your auction house guy that you have that letter. Maybe send him a copy by email.”
She nodded and immediately sent a text. Then, through her email function on her phone, she attached a copy of the letter and sent it off. She sniffled back her tears. “I can’t wait to show this to Nan.”
“Sounds like Nan has always been used as the name for the grandmothers in your family, hasn’t it?”
Doreen nodded.
With his help, she removed the boxes tilting up the bed frame and helped him lower the massive bed frame to the floor. She moved the boxes back to where they had been.
Mack looked at her. “What are in all those boxes?”
She motioned toward the closet, both of its doors open, revea
ling the mess inside. “I’m slowly sorting through all of Nan’s clothes. The boxed-up stuff here will go to Goodwill. I have all the bags of clothing downstairs that will go to the consignment store. Items I’m keeping currently are in the spare bedroom closet.”
He nodded. “That sounds like a good system with all the sorting to do here. And I’m glad to hear you’re keeping some of Nan’s clothing too. You might as well wear them, since it’s expensive to replace it all.” He motioned at the overstuffed closet. “Still a ton is in this closet alone.”
“Speaking of which,” she said, suddenly remembering what else she’d caught sight of in the back of the closet. “An old bookshelf is in the closet. It’s jammed in the back. Who knew a closet could be this deep?”
He looked at her in surprise.
She pushed all the hangers to one side and pointed it out to him.
He shook his head. “Do you want me to pull that out for you?”
She looked at him in delight. “Absolutely I do.”
“You should send pictures to your appraiser. Didn’t you show him this piece?”
“No, it’s not one of the pieces he was looking for.” She removed more hanging clothes to give him access. Then stepped in and quickly dumped the contents of the shelf onto the floor under the hangers. A temporary solution at best. “I will send Scott photos though. And he can check it out when he returns to pack up this stuff.”
It took a bit of maneuvering, but finally Mack dragged the bookshelf along the carpeted floor out to where Doreen could access to it. It didn’t resemble the other pieces in any way. It was also scratched and beaten-up some.
“Can you imagine,” she said, “that it’s been in there for probably fifty years?”
“Probably since Nan moved in.” He nodded. “And with the passage of time and too many possessions, it got buried in the back. Still, it’s quite useable, lots of life in it yet.”