Dagger in the Dahlias

by Dale Mayer

  “Not only will I remember that you asked,” he said, “but I was figuring out where to start.”

  “You said with a pot of water, salt, oil, and pasta,” she said drily. “And I’m broke. So, if we have just butter with it, that sounds pretty good to me.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But I’m not that broke. Although I like plain buttered noodles, I can also make sauces.”

  “Can you?” she asked eagerly. “Like a tomato sauce with ground beef?”

  “Only if it comes with mushrooms, green peppers, and red wine.”

  “That sounds divine,” she said excitedly. “After you bring by my gardening payment, I have to go out shopping tomorrow. Maybe I can pick up a few of those things.” But she could hear the doubt in her own voice. “I honestly don’t know what to buy, how much to buy, or how expensive everything will be.”

  “We’ll do the same as last time,” he said. “I’ll pick up the items and come to your house, and we’ll cook.”

  “Okay,” she said slowly. “Repeating it on Sunday too?”

  “I’m not sure it’ll work that way with the spaghetti sauce,” he said. “Let me think about it. And stay out of trouble today, will you?”

  “Of course I will. Easy peasey,” she said. She hung up the phone, made a cup of tea, and said to her animal family, “I think we should get the gardening done while we can.”

  She poured her tea into a travel mug. With all the animals, she set the alarms and walked to Mack’s mom’s place. There Doreen set to work, weeding and pruning, like she’d done last week. Millicent’s yard really did need more than two hours of Doreen’s time a week, but, as long as she could do that much, it would keep it all mostly under control.

  She had just begun work when Mack’s mom appeared on the back steps and called out to her. Doreen lifted her hand. “Good morning.” All her animals took off to greet Millicent too.

  “You’re here early,” Millicent said, chuckling as she scratched Mugs’s ears. Then she stroked Goliath’s back as he rubbed against her. Thaddeus squawked and hopped up to the top of the porch railing, looking for attention too. “I figured, with all the excitement this week, you might not come today.”

  “Oh, I’m here,” Doreen said with a smile, resting on her heels. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” the old woman said. “And you must be doing much better too. Everybody is just buzzing with the news about little Paul.”

  “Did you know him?”

  “I didn’t know the little boy,” she said, grinning as Thaddeus nudged her hand, “but the handyman was a family guy. We all knew him.”

  “Well,” Doreen said, “somebody asked me to look into another cold case, but I don’t have any feelers.” She stared at Millicent, guessing this woman was probably in her eighties, would have been in her fifties back when Johnny disappeared. “Do you remember when a Johnny Jordan went missing?” She walked toward the woman on the porch.

  “Johnny Jordan.” Millicent sat down on her rocking chair. “I don’t think I remember that case. Can you tell me any more details about it? Jog this old memory of mine?”

  “He was sitting in the backyard of his brother George’s place,” she said, stopping short of the porch steps. “Then they never saw him again. Nobody knows what happened.” Doreen shared a few of the details about George and Penny.

  “Oh, poor Penny,” Millicent murmured. “I remember something about that now. Everybody thought Johnny had just run away. Then two of his friends were killed soon afterward. For a while rumors were flying that maybe he’d killed them and taken off.”

  “Wait … what?” Doreen asked. “Why would anybody think Johnny had killed his two friends? I thought they died in a car accident not too long after Johnny’s disappearance.”

  Millicent nodded, pointing her finger at Doreen. “They did, but they died in his car.”

  “According to the father of one of the young men who died,” she said, “his son had bought the car off Johnny.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Millicent said, shaking her head rapidly. “No, no, no. That car was his baby.”

  “So you do remember him?” Doreen asked to be certain.

  “I knew George,” she said. “If you had told me that Johnny was George’s brother who had gone missing, I would have remembered. George used to talk all the time about how he and his kid brother were working on that car.”

  “But maybe George cared more about the car than his baby brother did.”

  Millicent gave Doreen an assessing look. “That’s possible too. Often we do things, thinking the other person we’re doing them with or for is enjoying it as much as we are. But maybe Johnny didn’t.”

  “What I don’t understand,” Doreen said, “is, if Johnny accidentally hit his friends, running them off the road, why would he take off? It was an accident. Nobody was at fault, as far as I know.”

  “No, and I don’t think the police found any evidence of that either,” Millicent said, “because the car went over one of the cliffs. The fire finished the vehicle afterward. They had a hard time identifying the bodies.”

  Doreen straightened. “So how did they know it was Johnny’s friends?”

  “I don’t know,” Millicent said, shaking her head, watching Thaddeus strut up and down the porch railing, flapping his wings to some unnamed rhythm. “But it was definitely a sad day in town here. We didn’t have the same size population back then.” She lowered her tone, as if nobody was allowed to know that tidbit. “With a lot less people living here, we knew each other better. And honestly, if they said it was those two boys, I trust it was those two boys.”

  Doreen nodded, but, in the back of her head, she wondered. She returned to a nearby garden bed, bent down, reached for more chickweed, pulling up several strands. “Do you remember anything else from back then?”

  Millicent pondered that question for a long moment.

  Doreen went back to weeding, staying close to the porch so they could still talk.

  “You know? I don’t think so,” Millicent said. “I know George was terribly devastated.”

  “And he passed away last year,” Doreen said, “so he never did get answers to the mystery.”

  “No, and that’s very sad too. I just wonder if it had something to do with the families of those two boys. There had definitely been talk about those boys being involved in something they shouldn’t have been. Although that’s almost a normal state for young men.”

  “In what way?” Doreen asked.

  “I can’t quite remember. I know there were definitely some ill feelings among the parents, as if blaming each other’s child for having led their son down the wrong road.”

  Doreen snorted. “Now that sounds familiar too.”

  Millicent gave her a wise look. “Nothing’s so perfect as your own child,” she said with a smile. “Just ask me.”

  At that, Doreen laughed. “Mack is a lot of things,” she said, still chuckling, “but perfect he is not.”

  “Of course he is,” Millicent said with a teasing smile. “He’s my son. Therefore, he’s perfect. Although …” she added, “he was too young to have worked the original missing person’s case. But then he never wanted to talk to me about his investigations, even when I expressed an interest in them. Said the details would give me nightmares. Plus he thought what I knew was based purely on gossip.”

  “Well, that explains why he treats me the way he does with his cold cases. But you know what? Sometimes a kernel of truth can be found in gossip. So both sets of parents would have thought their children were perfect too, right?”

  “Yes,” Millicent said. “They would have blamed the other child. In this case, there were three boys who hung out together.”

  “One disappeared, and two were killed.”

  “Yes. So interesting circumstances but nobody ever heard from Johnny again.”

  “At least I’m not tripping over any bodies this time,” Doreen said with a chuckle.

  “Ah, that’s be
cause you’ve been looking in the wrong place. Those three were forever hanging out at the old park.”

  “What old park? And does Mack know about it?” She pulled out her phone and quickly asked him in reference to Johnny’s disappearance.

  The response came back almost immediate in the affirmative. Sighing she put the phone back in her pocket and refocused on the conversation.

  “Of course he does. I’m talking about the one by the Central City area. It was pretty rough down there. A lot of junkies hung out in that park. If Johnny was killed anywhere, I’d have said that was the most likely spot,” Millicent said. “There used to be lots of ravines on that edge of town. I always wondered if Johnny didn’t go down there, and somebody maybe pulled the bank over on top of him.”

  Doreen winced at that. “That doesn’t sound good. By the way,” she said, straightening up, “was it only the three boys who hung out together?”

  “Those three boys were really tight. There was another guy, and I think a couple girls. That one girlfriend was a little dodgy.”

  “If you’re talking about Susan, she died a year ago from breast cancer,” Doreen said. “So it’ll be hard to get answers from her.”

  “Oh, not her. Another girl hung around with them a lot. Although she went from one boy to the next. It seemed like she was just moving through the four of them.”

  “Most likely all the relationships shifted constantly. Males and females alike, particularly at that age,” Doreen said. “Do you know who that fourth boy was?”

  “I don’t remember. … I mean, after all, when one goes missing and two die, there’s not really a gang left. So the fourth guy must have hung out with a new group.” Millicent spoke once again in that wise tone.

  “True enough,” Doreen said. “Do you remember what his name was though?”

  “Alan,” she said suddenly. “I think. Ask Penny. She’ll know.”

  “I can do that,” Doreen said. “I wonder what happened to him.”

  “If he were smart, he moved away. It seemed like that whole gang had a black mark against them,” she said. “And that would be a tough way to live in this town.”

  “But it wasn’t really a black mark, right? They weren’t charged with anything serious, were they?”

  “No idea,” Millicent said. “Maybe ask Mack. He might know.”

  “But, as you also know,” she said gently, “your son won’t tell me much.”

  “Not in so many words, but he could certainly let you know little bits and pieces, and, if those boys were charged with anything, that’s public record. Alan was his first name. I can’t remember his last name. I want to say Hornby, but my old memory box isn’t quite what it was.”

  Doreen chuckled. “I think your memory is just fine.” She kept working and talking to Millicent, losing track of time. Finally she sat back on her heels once more and said, “I think I’m done for this week.”

  “Good,” Millicent said, standing up, giving each of the animals a goodbye cuddle. “Then I’m going in and taking a nap.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Doreen said. “And, if you don’t mind, I’m heading home.”

  “Perfect. It’s nice to see you like this.” Then she stopped. “Oh my,” she said. “I meant to give you some zucchini bread. Hang on.” She went inside and came back a moment later with what looked like one-half of a loaf of zucchini bread, sliced and wrapped up. She handed it to Doreen, who met her on the porch, and said, “Thank you so much for coming, dear.”

  With a finger wave, Doreen and the animals started back. As soon as she was out of sight, she had her phone out, looking up Alan Hornby. It turned out the Hornby family used to live in the same cul-de-sac where Penny lived. Doreen frowned and said aloud, “How about we walk the long way around, guys?”

  And, with that, she turned in the direction of Penny’s house, fully intending to see where the Hornby house was. Maybe Penny had a few more answers to help tie up some of this mystery because, if four men were originally involved, Doreen needed to hear about the last guy still living. To learn that two girls and another guy were hanging around the three boys, she had a lot more questions she needed to ask. And one of the biggest was, who identified the two boys who died in the vehicle?

  Chapter 12

  Friday Afternoon …

  As Doreen walked toward Penny’s house, she knew a phone call would be faster, yet she found she preferred to do hands-on sleuthing. Not to mention the animals loved the fieldwork.

  She chuckled out loud. “Hey, Mugs, listen to me. Sleuthing. Fieldwork. Doesn’t that sound all professional?”

  For a fleeting moment she wondered if she could get a private eye license, but that would mean sleuthing full-time. Would she still enjoy it like now? This was fun. This was intriguing. This kept her mind occupied and let her dwell on somebody else’s troubles. She figured, by the time she got a private eye license, it would become drudgery and work. She’d be stuck in people’s divorces, a thought to make her cringe. And the police certainly weren’t hiring any private eyes. As a matter of fact, they probably hated them. Of course she was basing all this on the TV shows she watched occasionally.

  She nudged her trio along. They were more into meandering than walking today. Thaddeus, well, he seemed to be singing.

  As they neared Penny’s house, Doreen stopped and reoriented herself, looking for the Hornby house. It was across the cul-de-sac at the corner. So the kids really had lived close together. As she walked up to Penny’s door, Penny opened it and stepped out.

  “I could hope,” she said, “that you have good news.”

  Doreen shook her head. “No, just more questions.”

  Penny leaned against the doorjamb, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, let them fly. What do you want to know?”

  “Alan Hornby,” Doreen said.

  Penny glared across the cul-de-sac. “Yes, another one of Johnny’s friends. Five or six of them used to hang around in a group. Another very unpleasant man.”

  “I think we only discussed the three guys,” Doreen said, worrying slightly at the number that continued to grow.

  “Alan and his family lived over there,” Penny said, motioning across the way. “They used to be a family. Then his father lived alone in the house. Then Alan returned—not even sure where he went to begin with—and now his father is in the retirement home.” She turned to look at the other houses. “It’s hard to keep track of everyone.”

  “What happened to Alan and his mother?”

  “A divorce,” Penny said simply. “Let’s clarify that. An ugly divorce.” She gave a half smile.

  Doreen winced. “I understand about those.” Penny’s eyes lit with interest, but Doreen quickly moved past the topic. “Did you see much of Alan after Johnny went missing?”

  Penny frowned. “You know what? I’m not sure. It was so long ago. But I should remember, shouldn’t I? It’s probably important.”

  “Anything to do with anybody back then,” Doreen said, “is important. It could be the slightest thing that helps this case. Somebody lying even a little bit can unravel a whole pile of new information.”

  “I hear you. It’s just really hard to go back to that time and to remember the details.” Penny shook her head. “You know? I remember Alan’s mother coming over in tears, telling me that she was so sorry. At the time I didn’t think much of it because everybody was telling me that they might have seen Johnny or that he’d come home soon, how he was just a wayward boy and not to worry.”

  “I know,” Doreen said. “Everybody gives you their condolences, but it’s only afterward you wonder if they really meant it or not.”

  “So you do know what I mean,” Penny said. “I hope you didn’t lose somebody too.”

  Doreen shook her head. “No, thankfully not. But I became very distrustful and leery of people’s behavior for a while.”

  “And Alan’s mom was very emotional. It seemed over-the-top. I wasn’t sure what was going on,” she said. “And because I
didn’t have any answers, I was just trying to move people along.”

  “Where was this conversation?”

  “It was here,” Penny said. “I was talking to the pastor at the front door. He’d come to talk to me too. And then, after he left, Alan’s mother came over.”

  “Do you think she misunderstood? Maybe if she saw you talking to the pastor, she thought Johnny was dead?”

  Penny rolled her eyes. “Honestly, with her, it’s hard to say. She was not the smartest book on the shelf.”

  Doreen almost chuckled at that. But it was totally inappropriate to laugh, especially when they were talking about a missing person. She smiled and nodded instead. “Another question. … Who identified Johnny’s friends’ bodies?”

  “George and one of the boys’ fathers did,” she said. “The other father wasn’t capable of doing the job. And he had asked George to see if it was his son. The two men went in separately, but you have to understand the remains were in bad shape.”

  Doreen didn’t push any further. “It was nice of George to do that.”

  “Honestly, I think he was secretly wondering if it was Johnny,” Penny said. “And it would be so like George to step in and do something like that. Just to make sure.”

  “Of course. But it wasn’t Johnny though, right?”

  Penny shook her head. “No, it definitely wasn’t. Unfortunately, no.” Then she caught herself. “Oh, that sounds terrible. I didn’t mean it that way. But, at least, if it had been Johnny, George would have known what had happened to him. He would have had a body. He would have had something to grieve over, and he would have had answers to the big questions.”

  “I think that’s always the worst, isn’t it?” Doreen said slowly. “Always wondering what happened and why.”

  “How true,” Penny said. “George suffered terribly without the closure he needed so badly.”

  Doreen backed away. “That’s the only thing on my mind.”

  “Is that all?” Penny asked. “You could have phoned.”

  Doreen nodded. “But I love to walk, and it’s good for the animals.” She looked around but saw no sign of Goliath. “The trouble is, Goliath has a mind of his own.”