Easter Eggs and Shotgun Shells

by Madison Johns

  Eleanor handed him our business card. “Thank you for your time.”

  “I really thought Constance’s ex would help us further the investigation,” I said when we walked back to the car.

  “We’re still batting zero, but it won’t be for long. Eventually we’ll find a worthwhile lead.”

  I had to agree. It was only a matter of time before we find the killer.

  9

  “So did you learn anything yesterday of value?” Andrew asked me over coffee the next morning.”

  “Nope. The ex-husband was straightforward about not wishing anything bad to happen to her.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “Yes. No reason not to.”

  “I hope that means you have time freed up today. Those plastic eggs won’t fill themselves.”

  My brow shot up. “I thought you and Wilson filled them for me already.”

  Andrew leaned forward in his seat. “You and Eleanor are the ones in charge of the egg hunt, not me.”

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t help.”

  “What would Elsie say?”

  “That Eleanor and I went the extra mile by finding farm animals for the children to pet at the event.”

  “I should organize a plastic egg-filling party,” Andrew said in his best impression of a Southern accent.

  “You do that. Eleanor and I have more investigating to do.”

  Andrew’s brow furrowed. “Be careful.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Don’t forget you’re investigating a murder. There’s nothing safe about that.”

  “It’s safe enough. Today we’re going to the campground. Martha met two ladies about her age who are twins.”

  “Is that part of your investigation?”

  “They have ties to the unconscious man we found, but it’s more of a follow-up.” I took a sip of my coffee. “What are your plans with Wilson today?”

  “We’re heading over to Henry’s house for a friendly men’s-only poker game.”

  “You better watch yourself. Jack is a known card shark.”

  “I’ll make sure I bring extra cash.”

  “If you have time, can you stop by the bank and get dollar bills for me? I’m putting them in some eggs.”

  “Will do. Have a good day.”

  Andrew gave me a quick kiss, and I walked into the bedroom. I know I shouldn’t have let Andrew’s words get to me, but I slipped my pink handgun in my purse all the same.

  Eleanor and I walked over to Martha’s campground site, expecting to see the twins there, but they were strangely absent.

  “I hope we didn’t scare off your friends,” I said.

  Martha looked up from stirring her morning coffee. “I couldn’t say.”

  “Did they say anything about us after we left?” Eleanor asked.

  “No, should they have?”

  “I don’t know. I mean they might have felt like we were accusing them of wrongdoing,” I said.

  “No, really?” Martha said with a slight smile.

  “Point me to their campsite please.”

  “Across from Leotyne, but I can’t say if they’re still there.”

  Eleanor and I raced over, hoping to find the sisters, but the campsite was empty.

  I walked across the way and greeted Leotyne Williams, the Romanian fortune-teller who rolled into town some years back. She wore long black dresses, had stringy black hair, and kept dark fabric on the windows of her trailer.

  Leotyne was stoking a fire with an iron poker.

  “Can we ask you a question?” I asked Leotyne.

  “Question away.”

  “What happened to the women who were camped across from you? They were middle-aged twins.”

  Leotyne glanced up. “They’re gone now.”

  “Did you speak to them?”

  Leotyne focused back to the fire. “Nope.”

  “You know where they might have gone?” Eleanor asked.

  “Nope, but they were in a hurry.”

  “How do you know if you didn’t speak to them?”

  “Because they pack in a hurry and leave in the middle of the night. Camper makes too much noise.” Leotyne glanced up. “Don’t worry, they not go far.”

  “Words of wisdom for the day,” I said. “Have a good day, Leotyne.”

  She grunted in response, but that was fine by me. She was a woman of few words, and most of them are too strange to decipher.

  We returned to Martha’s site. “They’re gone,” I told Martha. “Leotyne thinks they haven’t gone far.”

  “I can’t imagine they would, not with Bonnie Sue’s ex-husband in the hospital,” Martha said.

  “Thanks for reminding me. I bet they’re at the hospital,” I said.

  “Yup. I bet Bonnie Sue is trying to see her ex and her sister is going along to end his life,” Eleanor added.

  “What are you talking about?” Martha asked.

  “We found out Bobbie Sue pushed Misha in front of a semi. We came here to talk to her about it.”

  Martha sighed as she stood up. “Do you think they were involved with killing Constance?”

  “I suppose I won’t know unless I’m able to ask them a few more questions.”

  “It’s obvious Bonnie Sue isn’t over Misha yet.”

  “We believe Bobbie Sue pushed her sister to divorce Misha,” Eleanor added.

  “I caught that one when you spoke to them the last time. It’s a shame when a woman has to be pushed into divorcing her husband if he’s no good. I wish someone had intervened when I was married to that no-good pastor husband of mine. He spent more time with his pants down than he did at the pulpit.”

  Eleanor and I walked down the hallway of the hospital. We stopped at an open door where a man was being pushed into the room on a hospital bed. He had an IV pump attached to his bed. I thought I recognized him as the man we found unconscious, but I wasn’t positive.

  We leaned against the opposite wall and observed from a distance. Two women dressed in scrubs entered the room with a computer desk on wheels, closing the door behind them.

  “Either that patient was just admitted or just moved from ICU,” Eleanor said.

  “That’s my thought too. The nursing staff is checking him into the floor, so it might be a while before we can sneak a peek to see if it’s Misha Curry.”

  “What are you doing here?” Sheriff Peterson asked with a grimace as he walked up the hall to join us.

  “We were looking for someone.”

  Peterson walked between the hospital room and us. “You’re not speaking to the man from the crime scene. He just got out of ICU.”

  “That must mean he’s awake now, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “Would you believe we didn’t come here looking for Misha Curry?”

  Peterson’s brow furrowed. “Who told you his name?”

  “You did, remember?”

  “That’s right, but at this point, I was just dropping by to see how he’s doing.”

  “You weren’t planning to speak to him today?”

  “Not unless his doctor gives me his permission. I don’t even know what his condition is. He might not be able to speak to me today or any day.”

  “I thought about that too. He might have a skull fracture or a serious head injury.”

  “We didn’t come here to see Misha,” Eleanor said.

  “Nope, we were looking to see if his ex-wife was here,” I said. “She was camping at the campground right here in town with her twin sister.”

  “We spoke to them yesterday,” Eleanor said.

  “Let's move down to the visiting lounge. It was empty the last time I checked,” Peterson said.

  “Misha’s ex-wife is Bonnie Sue Curry. Her twin sister is with her in Tawas too, unless they hightailed it,” I said.

  “But they’re no longer at the campground,” Eleanor said. “We checked.”

  “Leotyne tol
d us they didn’t go far. She’s a fortune-teller in case you’re wondering.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “We were hoping Bonnie Sue might have come to the hospital. We have a few more questions for both her and her sister.”

  Peterson pulled out his notebook and clicked open his pen. “Tell me what you’ve learned about the ex.”

  “Misha was a louse when it came to being a husband,” I began. “He cheated on Bonnie Sue, and she caught him about a year ago at Robinson’s Manor having lunch with another woman.”

  “Her sister Bobbie Sue was with her too,” Eleanor added.

  “Anyway, Bonnie Sue confronted the other woman and slapped her across the face.”

  “What about Misha?”

  “He was in the bathroom, but he left the manor in a hurry. He left the poor woman he was with behind.”

  “And the woman’s name is?”

  “Jillian Bauer. She works at the community center as a yoga instructor. We already questioned her. She claims she didn’t know Misha was married.”

  Eleanor frowned. “She maintains that she hasn’t seen Misha since that day. She had to call her grandmother to pick her up from the manor.”

  “What makes you think Bonnie Sue would be here if they’re now divorced?” Peterson asked.

  “I have the feeling that Bonnie Sue regrets going through the divorce.”

  “She obviously still has feelings for him,” Eleanor added. “We believe her sister pushed her to get the divorce, not that it wasn’t the best move for her.”

  “Thank you, ladies,” Peterson said. “I’ll call you after I speak to the doctor. Can I get the sister’s descriptions?”

  “They both have tightly curled red hair with green eyes. They’re quite identical as far as twins go,” I said.

  We parted ways with the sheriff and headed down the hallway, checking the bathrooms for any signs of the sisters.

  I sighed when we came up empty-handed, and Eleanor and I walked outside. Just as I was about to open my car door… Boom…

  The windshield exploded, and we dropped to the ground and crawled behind the car for cover when we heard the familiar click-click of a shotgun. Next, the sounds of tires squealing alerted me that whoever took a shot at us left at a high rate of speed. Security guards appeared, we were helped inside the emergency room of the hospital, and the door was locked behind us.

  A voice came over the speaker informing everyone of a lockdown situation with instructions to stay inside until further notice.

  I was shaking so badly I could barely keep my composure. Eleanor and I were ushered into the back where I fell apart. I wiped away the tears on my cheeks and hugged Eleanor as she sobbed. Only this morning I had told Andrew I’d be careful, and now someone had shot at us—in the hospital parking lot of all places.

  Sophia and Dr. Thomas hurried into the room.

  “Are you okay, Gramms?” Sophia asked.

  “I-I am now.”

  “Take their vitals,” Dr. Thomas ordered.

  Two nursing assistants rushed into the room, and one of them wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my upper arm while the second one did the same for Eleanor.

  “I can’t believe this is happening.” I gasped.

  “And at the hospital!” Eleanor shrieked. “Someone could have been killed.”

  “Yes, us,” I said. “Isn’t it obvious we were the intended target?”

  “I know that, but someone else could have been injured.”

  “I know, dear. Does anyone know if anyone was hit?”

  “I don’t know, but the sheriff should be here soon,” Dr. Thomas said.

  “Sheriff Peterson was just upstairs waiting to get an update of Misha Curry’s condition,” I said.

  Cop cars arrived, and it sounded as if they surrounded the hospital with the sirens blaring. This is a horrible thing to have happened here, but thankfully all hospitals have their own lockdown procedures.

  “Are you okay?” Sheriff Peterson asked as he entered the room.

  I glanced at the blood spots on my arms. “Yes, but I think the glass from my windshield nicked me.”

  “I can’t believe it exploded like that,” Eleanor added.

  Sophia quickly dressed the wounds, and Dr. Thomas hovered over us. “Take a few deep breaths, ladies,” he said. “You both have elevated blood pressure.”

  “I don’t know why?” Eleanor laughed nervously.

  “Take their blood pressure again in fifteen minutes,” Dr. Thomas said. “We should leave so the sheriff can speak with Eleanor and Agnes alone.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Thomas,” I said.

  “I’ve always liked him.” Eleanor winked when the doctor left the room.

  “It’s too bad he doesn’t play on our team.”

  “Can you tell me what happened out there?”

  “There isn’t much to tell you, Peterson. I was just about to open my car door when someone shot out my windshield.”

  “I didn’t know I could hit the ground that fast,” Eleanor said. “We had to crawl to the back of the car for cover.”

  “Whoever shot at us must have been scared off because we heard squealing tires,” I said. “Two security guards helped us into the emergency room lobby.”

  Eleanor shuddered. “I still can’t believe we were nearly murdered.”

  “I don’t think the person who shot at your car was trying to kill you,” Peterson said.

  “But he shot the window out,” Eleanor insisted.

  “He’s right,” I agreed. “The shooter could have easily hit one of us.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “That you’re getting too close to the truth,” Peterson suggested.

  “But we’re not. We haven’t spoken to anyone who’s given us any viable information.”

  “We just questioned Constance’s ex-husband, but they’ve been divorced for about a year. He didn’t appear the jealous type,” I said.

  “I’ll take a crack at it. Where did you find him?” Peterson asked.

  “At the state dock on the yacht Broke and Busted,” Eleanor said.

  My eyes widened. “The shooter might have left skid marks on the road.”

  Peterson sighed. “Even if the vehicle left skid marks, I doubt we’d be able to determine which type of vehicle the shooter drove.”

  “No, but you’d be able to find out what the tire size was.”

  “It’s not like making an impression of a tire mark in the dirt,” Peterson said.

  “No, but we know someone who should be able to identify the skid pattern.”

  “We don’t even know if the vehicle made any tire marks on the road yet.”

  “Well, if there are any, I bet the wrecker driver in town could. Jimmy’s done it before for us.”

  “And it helped us find the vehicle because of the tire size,” Eleanor said with a curt nod.

  “I probably should go outside now and check it out.”

  I stood up. “We’ll come with you.”

  “No, you won’t. You both need to stay here. I don’t want to risk your getting shot at again.”

  “We already told you we heard the shooter leave at a high rate of speed.”

  “You didn’t say that before.”

  “We told you we heard the tires squealing,” Eleanor said.

  “That doesn’t mean it was the shooter.”

  “Who else could it be?” I asked.

  “If you saw someone shooting at a car in the hospital parking lot, wouldn’t you leave the scene in a hurry?” Peterson asked.

  “Yes, but if the shooter was still nearby, we could have been shot going into the hospital,” I countered.

  “I won’t be able to assess the situation until I go out there and check it out. The state police should be here by now.”

  “I insist on coming with you.”

  “You can’t. The hospital is on lockdown.” Peterson forced a smile. “That should keep you out of my hair.”

  I frowned when
Peterson left.

  Sophia came back in the room followed by the aides who took our blood pressure again.

  “Mine might still be high,” I said.

  “And why is that?” Sophia asked as she tucked her dark hair behind her ears.

  “Peterson told us we couldn’t go outside with him to look for skid marks.”

  “I’m sure he’s doing more than just looking for skid marks. Your vehicle will have to be processed.”

  I gasped. “That’s right, the shooter destroyed my car.”

  “The windshield, you mean,” Eleanor said. “Someone shot out the windshield of my Cadillac before, and all I had to do was replace the glass.”

  “I’m just heartsick about my car. This is the second vehicle I’ve had an incident with lately.”

  “You totaled Andrew’s SUV months ago, and it was an accident,” Eleanor said.

  “I know, but he won’t be happy when he finds out about the car he just bought me.”

  “Not when he finds out someone shot out the windshield. He’ll be more worried about you being hurt than about your car.”

  “That won’t be the only thing he’ll worry about,” Sophia said.

  “You got that right. I assured him I wasn’t in any danger with this investigation.”

  “I wish you luck, Gramms.”

  Dr. Thomas walked into the room. “How are the vitals?”

  Sophia read the digital blood pressure machine. “Agnes is 140 over 80, and 130 over 70 for Eleanor.”

  “Process their discharge paperwork,” Dr. Thomas said. “I’m cutting them loose.”

  “You mean we can leave the hospital now?”

  “No, we’re still on lockdown.”

  “How is Misha Curry doing?” Eleanor asked.

  “You know I can’t tell you that.”

  “Can you tell us if the sheriff has spoken to him yet?”

  “Take it easy, ladies. I can’t have anything happen to my favorite patients.”

  10

  “Lockdown is the pits,” Eleanor said as we took our seats in the conference room Sophia took us to.

  “We’re only staying here for about five minutes. I’m hoping by then Sophia will quit watching the door.”

  “Security is watching the main door.”