Having a Great Crime- Wish You Were Here

by Marja McGraw

  “Shh. Gloria’s on the front porch. I don’t want her to hear you.”

  She nodded and put her index finger to her lips.

  The crying stopped as abruptly as it had started.

  I spoke softly. “Gloria wants to help us. I can’t think of anything she might do that wouldn’t put her in our way.”

  Bea smiled. “The other guests have left. Why don’t you ask her to search their rooms for clues? Just tell her not to make a mess.”

  “Brilliant! That should keep her busy for a long time.”

  I thanked our hostess and walked to the front door, calling to Gloria to come inside.

  “You know,” she said, “you’re right. Watching the rain is relaxing. Why, I almost fell asleep.”

  “Well, don’t fall asleep just yet. I’ve got a mission for you.”

  She perked up immediately. “What?”

  “Don’t bother our room or Stan and Felicity’s, but would you search the other rooms? Look for any clues you can find about either of the women who were killed.” I remembered something Pete had taught me. “Look up, look down, and look all around. Sometimes things are in the least likely places.”

  “I’ll get Phil to help me.”

  “Try to leave things the way you found them though. Don’t make a mess because Bea will have other guests coming in.”

  She shook her head and without another word she headed upstairs.

  Busy work, I thought. That’s what Gloria needs, and it’ll keep her out of my hair.

  Sasha and Kimberly joined me in the living room.

  “Have you two cleaned the room upstairs yet?”

  They looked surprised that I’d even ask.

  “No, why?” Sasha studied me to see what was going on. “It hasn’t been that long since the other guests left.”

  I explained about the job I’d, or Bea, had thought up.

  “Auntie is pretty smart sometimes. She always outsmarted us when we were kids and heading for trouble.” Kimberly’s tone of voice came across full of love.

  I wished for a moment that I felt the same way about my Aunt Martha. My aunt was a troublemaker from the word Go, and she kept threatening to come for a visit. The only reason she hadn’t followed through on her threat yet was because she hated flying. One day my luck would run out.

  “So do you want us to wait until she’s through searching to clean the rooms?” Sasha asked.

  “Oh, you could probably take the sheets off the beds and wash them and the towels, but I’d leave everything else for the moment.”

  The girls headed upstairs and I went back to work on my list, or what there was of it.

  Felicity joined me and sat quietly, letting me work.

  I wrote headings at the top of three pages: Bonnie Singleton, Sally Harper, and Bank Robbery. Before I could do more, Pete returned with hardware for the back door.

  “I’ll take care of this, and I bought some pretty sturdy stuff. I bought some hardware for the front door, too. These old locks aren’t worth the metal they’re made of. Oh, and I made a point of buying styles that will suit this old house.”

  “Good job, sweetie.”

  I started to follow him out to the kitchen, but turned back for my notes. You never knew when Gloria might decide to come downstairs.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked.

  “No.” After tearing down his makeshift “fix” from the back door, he left the house and headed for the shed and the tools it held with Stanley dogging his steps.

  I sat down at the kitchen table again, picking up the receipt he’d been given at the store.

  Before I could see what he paid for everything, Bea took it out of my hands. “I need to pay Pete for these things.” She held her wallet in her hand.

  “Are you feeling any better?”

  “I must be. That crying didn’t freak me out this time.”

  I laughed. “Freak you out?”

  “Isn’t that what the kids say?”

  “I guess.”

  Before we could discuss it further, Gloria ran into the kitchen, and I do mean she ran. She almost lost her balance when she stopped. “I found something.”

  Surprise, surprise. I was sure it was nothing of consequence, but at least it was keeping her busy.

  “What is it?” Bea asked.

  She looked triumphant. “A receipt.”

  I blinked a few times. “What kind of receipt?”

  “Take a look at it.” She handed it to me.

  You could have knocked me over with a feather.

  “Well, I’ll be darned.” It was a handwritten receipt for door locks, and it was dated September of 1898. “I wonder why the Harpers were putting up new locks. And where did you find this?”

  “It was in an old box in the attic, and the box was inside a small old desk.” She turned to Bea. “By the way, I’d love to buy that desk. I’ll pay you four hundred dollars for it.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  “Sold!” Bea had a look of surprise on her face after Gloria’s offer, which seemed to be the Look of the Day.

  “There are a few other things I’d like to buy, too. You know, you really need to clean out that attic. Oh, you’ll be happy to know I didn’t see any water damage from a leaking roof. A house this old is likely to have leaks.” For some reason, Gloria sounded like she thought she had the upper hand. She seemed to be in Bossy Mode.

  “I had a new roof put on. I didn’t think any of my guests would be up there, so as far as cleaning out the attic, I’ve been putting it off. I’ll get to it. What else do you want to buy?”

  “Among other things, there’s a phone that looks like it’s from the 1930s. I could have it rewired and use it.”

  “Again, sold! Make me a list of the things you want to buy.” Bea was happy as a clam and practically rubbing her hands together. She seemed to have temporarily forgotten about the fortune in gold that she’d recently acquired.

  I turned to Gloria. “I thought you were going to search the bedrooms for clues, not the attic.”

  “I decided I might as well start at the top and work my way down. Now I’m glad I did.”

  “Are there other papers up there?” Bea asked.

  “There’s a whole box of old receipts and letters and notes.”

  “You surprise me, Gloria.” She’d been more thorough than I’d expected.

  “You told me to look up and down and everywhere. So I did.”

  “Well done. Would you mind bringing the box down here?”

  “Phil will be down with it in a minute. He had to make a, uh, pit stop.”

  Sasha and Kimberly walked through the room heading for the laundry room, each carrying a load of sheets.

  Bea watched them for a moment. “You can go ahead and clean the rooms. Gloria is working on the attic.”

  Sasha stuck her head around the doorway. “She is? I thought I heard noises up there.”

  She looked at Gloria. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll run into the crying woman?”

  Gloria’s expression was priceless, one of hopeful joy. “I sure hope so. I want to assure her that it’s time to move on now. Well, after we solve the mystery of her death I’ll tell her to move toward the light.”

  Oh, brother! After we solve the mystery? Of course, she had found the receipt. I was anxious to see what else was in the box.

  The contents of old boxes were turning out to be quite informative.

  Phil came down about ten minutes later, carrying the cardboard box.

  Gloria had stepped outside to watch the rain again.

  He set the box on the table in front of me. “I have to thank you, Sandi. My wife is having a blast searching through the attic, although I know it’s going to end up costing me plenty.“ He frowned for a moment before smiling. “You’re making her feel useful, and it seems like most of the time she’s bored. The next thing I know, she’ll want to become a private investigator, too.” The frown was back in place. “Oh. Maybe this wasn’t such a goo
d idea after all.”

  Bea grinned in his direction. “It’s already cost you over four hundred dollars.”

  He groaned and headed back upstairs. “Tell my wife I went back to the attic. And tell her I’ve hidden the checkbook.”

  Taking the lid off the box, I started sorting through the contents. There was a piece of paper near the top. It had been folded twice. It looked like it had been handled frequently. The folds were almost tearing apart. I opened it carefully and read what Sally Harper had wanted her husband to know. The ink had faded, indicating it had been exposed to the light and air many times.

  My Dearest Tim,

  You’ve left to birth a calf and I know you’ll be home late. I’m not feeling well, so I’ll be asleep by the time you return. I wanted you to know about something as soon as possible.

  I know we’ve never had locks on our doors because they’ve never been necessary, but I’d appreciate it if you’d purchase some and install them. I saw someone rooting around out in the trees again and it practically gives me the vapors. This is the third time I’ve seen someone, and I think he saw me watching out the window. I can think of no reason for anyone to be out there.

  I love you, and I hope the birthing went well.

  Yours forever,

  Sally

  I set the note down and thought about what she’d written. So she had seen someone outside who shouldn’t have been there. Since the note had probably been left on a table for her husband, it wasn’t dated. There was also the receipt for new locks, and instinct told me the note was probably written in September of 1898, when the locks had been purchased. It also told me the legend was wrong about the husband delivering milk in Vancouver.

  “Bea, do you have any idea about how long Sally’s husband stayed here after she disappeared?” I asked.

  “Well, the story goes that he lived here until the day he died, and that he often wandered through the woods looking for her. I’m not sure what made him concentrate on the forest though.”

  “I think I have the answer to that one.” I handed her the note. “She’d seen someone rooting around out there. And as much as this note has obviously been handled, I’ll bet he read and reread it many times over the years.”

  She handled it carefully since the paper seemed so fragile. After reading the note, she sat down and nodded. “I think you’re right, and as a loving husband, I’ll bet you’re right, he read this over and over again. In fact, I’d be willing to bet this was the last note she ever wrote to him.” She picked up the paper and read it again.

  Felicity had been very quiet during all of the exchanges. She held out her hand and Bea handed her the note, which she also read twice.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “There are a lot of What Ifs on my mind right now.”

  “Like what?”

  “What if after Sally wrote this note she decided she’d had enough? She might have grabbed whatever was near, like a broom, and gone outside to confront the intruder. Or what if the intruder saw her watching him and came after her? What if she went to sleep and something happened a few days later? What if…”

  “You have some valid What Ifs. I might be inclined to go with the first one, but the story is that Tim had taken his wagon to Vancouver to deliver milk, not to the barn to deliver a calf.”

  Felicity scrunched up her face. “But that’s only a story. No one today knows what really happened. Maybe her husband delivered the milk the night before and the calf came the night she disappeared.”

  “You could be right. Legends tend to grow over the years, and this would have been over a hundred years ago. There’s no police report that I’ve been able to find to clear things up.” I felt my frustration growing. How could we solve either murder with the limited information we had?

  I started rummaging through the box again, but I didn’t find anything else of importance. There were letters from friends and family, receipts pertaining to Tim Harper’s business, and general paperwork.

  Pete turned from his work on the back door. “Maybe you’re giving this too much thought. Maybe you need to be more logical than worrying about What Ifs. Stick to the evidence you’ve actually seen.”

  “What evidence? Other than the possibility of that knife being the murder weapon, there is no evidence. Just notes and letters, a birth certificate and our talks with Brad Singleton.”

  “Here’s something you might not have thought about. That guy named Charlie? If he died twenty years ago, he couldn’t have been the one who murdered Sally. He probably hadn’t even been born yet. It had to be someone from a different generation. On the other hand, he could have killed Bonnie.”

  “This is all about the gold,” I said. “I’m sure of it. Maybe Charlie was related to whoever murdered Sally.”

  “Maybe.” Pete had finished installing the new lock and checked to be sure the key worked. It did. “Stan and I are going to install the new lock on the front door. If you need me, that’s where I’ll be.”

  “Uh huh.” I wasn’t really paying attention anymore. What if Pete was right and there were two killers, each after the gold?

  I was beginning to feel like there were too many details to try to string together. I needed a break.

  Gloria came inside and climbed the stairs without a word. She was ready to get back to work.

  Bea shook her head. “This is too much. All of my guests are involved in solving murders, but all of you came here for a relaxing weekend. Who knew this would spin so out of control? And who knew Gloria would insinuate herself into our business?”

  Felicity chuckled. “Yeah, she’s a piece of work, isn’t she? She is paying her dues though, by working in the attic. I’ll bet it’s hot up there.”

  Stanley stood in the doorway. “The front door is secure now, and here are the keys. Pete had extras made while he was out.”

  I smiled at our hostess. “Whether you realize it or not, your guests are having the time of their lives.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Pete walked up behind Stanley and gently shoved him out of the way. “So what now?”

  “I need a break,” I replied. “I’m not sure what we should do, but I need to clear my head so I can look at things, as you said, logically.”

  “How about a drive to the lake? We can sit in the car or under a tree and watch the rainfall. You want relaxing? That should do the trick.”

  He was right.

  I laughed. “We can even hold hands, or something.”

  Felicity looked from my face to Pete’s. “I think Stan and I will just stay here. I want to go through the box again and make sure you didn’t miss anything. He can help me.” I knew my friend well. She simply wanted Pete and me to have some alone time.

  I nodded and we headed for the Jeep. I left my purse in our room. I had no need for it at the lake, and I knew everyone in the house.

  Pete always kept a light jacket in the car. I put it on. It had grown chilly with a breeze that had come up, and if the sun came out, my short-sleeved shirt would be just fine.

  “There sure has been a lot of rain since we got here.” Pete was making small talk.

  “We’re in the western part of Washington. It does that.”

  “Maybe we can look at houses one more time before we leave.”

  “Maybe. Are you sure you could put up with all the rain?”

  “Probably, on a part-time basis.” He was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, I think I could get used to it. I noticed there were a lot of people out when I bought the locks. They didn’t bother with umbrellas or jackets, so I guess it’s easy to get used to.”

  “Uh huh.” I watched out the window as we passed beautiful scenery and some houses set back from the road. Maybe I could get used to the rain, too. Southwest Washington is a beautiful area, and the people we’d met were so friendly.

  “Pete, stop!”

  I guess I sounded like it was something urgent because he slammed on the brakes and we fishtailed, just a little.


  “I’m sorry, sweetie, but look at that.” I pointed to an adorable farmhouse-style home with a For Sale by Owner sign in front. There was a phone number on the sign.

  “I like it.” There was no hesitation in Pete’s voice. “At least, from the outside. Why don’t you call the number and see if we can look at it?”

  He handed me his cell phone. Mine was in my purse, back at the B&B.

  I dialed the number and a woman answered. “Good morning and God bless you,” she said.

  We were off to a good start. She sounded almost too cheerful, and that worked for me.

  “Uh, God bless you, too. My husband and I are sitting in our car out in front of your home and wondered if we could set up an appointment to look at your house.”

  “Why, sweetheart, pull up the driveway and you can look at it right now.”

  “Be right there.” My heart skipped a beat. I was amazed that she was willing to show it to us now.

  I motioned for Pete to pull into the driveway.

  “Now?”

  “She said to come right up. She sounded really nice over the phone, too.”

  I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t the fashionable yet withered little old lady who met us at the door. Most of the aged ladies I knew were quite short, and this woman was no exception. However, although she was wrinkled with snow white hair, she wore skin tight jeans and a long shirt. Skinny jeans seemed to be everywhere, but I’d never seen them on a woman her age before. Her long hair was coifed in a youngish style. She wasn’t allowing herself to age gracefully. Her voice was young and full of energy, too.

  I liked her already.

  She held the door open and waved us inside. “Good morning, again. I’m Bertie Fleming, and you are?”

  “Pete and Sandi Goldberg,” I said. “We’re staying at the Mossy Glen Inn and decided to take a drive to the lake. I saw your house and fell in love with it.” Uh oh. I should probably show less excitement. With too much enthusiasm, the price might go up.

  “Well, let me show you around.” Bertie didn’t waste any time. “My husband passed away and I want to move to Idaho to live near my children. I miss the dickens out of him, and everything in this house is a reminder of him. I need to make some changes, although I know he’ll always be with me in his own way.”