by Dale Mayer
Nan gave her a lusty laugh. “I definitely am eating and had lunch. More to the point, are you eating? Did you have lunch already?”
“I am, and I’m not hungry yet, but thanks,” Doreen reassured her.
“Just let me know when you are ready for a sandwich. I have some wonderful ham and homemade sourdough bread.”
Doreen nodded, her smile grim. “I’m sorry about your friend. It’s difficult when you are on the outs.”
“And you know all about that too, don’t you?” Nan said. “I’m so sorry your friends walked away from you when you left your husband.”
“Just meant that they weren’t friends, at least not mine,” Doreen said with a smile. “And that’s really what I have to remember. Just because I wanted them to be friends and thought that’s what they were, you don’t really understand what a friend is until you hit the rocks and need somebody to be there for you. And that’s just called life.” She shrugged. “I wouldn’t give up what I currently have for anything in the world.” She gently stroked the back of Nan’s hand. “I’m so sorry I missed all those years with you.”
“Not to worry,” Nan said. “Just think about how good everything is now for us. Sometimes you have to wait for what you can really appreciate. If I can have all my remaining years with you close by, I’ll be absolutely in heaven.”
Doreen chuckled. “On that note, let me tell you what I found underneath the big bed.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out and unfolded the photocopy of the letter. She handed it to Nan.
When Nan read it, tears came to her eyes.
Doreen immediately regretted bringing it to her, but Nan smiled through her tears.
“I’d forgotten this was there,” she said. “A few times in your life you will find real turning points, and, with the death of my Nan, my life definitely changed too.”
“Are you still okay if I sell that bed though?” Doreen asked. “I’m afraid you’ll hate me for it.”
“Of course I don’t mind,” Nan said, lifting her head from the letter. “I know the house is full of things, but honestly things are not what I care about. And the older I get, the more I realize it. For a long time I valued my independence. Now I value family, and that’s you. The bed has a lifetime of memories for me, but it only represents them—it isn’t the memory itself. And, when you sell the bed and move it out of there, it doesn’t take the memories with it.”
Doreen was delighted to hear that. “Well, I did separate the mattresses from the frame today. I’m waiting for a phone call as to when they’ll pack up everything. I found some paperwork in a folder thing in the bottom dresser drawer.”
Nan frowned, then poured their tea into the two cups. “I think that’s all of the paperwork,” she said, puzzled. “You didn’t find anything about the pieces?”
“No. Oh, wait, we did find something …” She pulled out the two foil-wrapped chocolates and held out her palm. “Do you remember these? We found them in the secret drawers.”
Nan’s face lit up with joy. “Oh my,” she whispered, staring at the chocolates. “I remember those. My nan used to hide them all the time for me to find.” She looked up at Doreen. “I’m so delighted you brought these. Such wonderful memories are stored in that furniture.”
Guilt seared through Doreen.
And it must have shown on her face as Nan reached a thin arm across the table and squeezed Doreen’s wrist. “And, no, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t sell it. Those are my memories, not yours,” she said in such a firm voice that Doreen relaxed.
“If I hadn’t found that letter,” Doreen said quietly, “there wouldn’t be any proof of how long we’ve had it.” She then brought out the locket and cuffs. “We found these too.”
“Oh my,” Nan held it carefully, then clicked it open. A warm smile blossomed on her face. “Lovely to find this again.”
“It is indeed.” Doreen accepted it from her grandmother and pocketed it. “I still haven’t found the paperwork on the antiques though.”
Nan tapped her fingers on the table. “Hmm, I’m pretty sure more paperwork is somewhere. As you clear out the place, you’ll find more and more pieces.”
Doreen frowned. “Are you talking about the antiques or the paperwork?”
Nan blinked. “Both?”
“I know you inherited the bedroom suite, but did you invest in all the other pieces with your money?” Doreen asked half in delight and half in outrage. “Why would you do that?” She was generally curious because, if things didn’t matter to Nan, why bother putting money into valuable antiques?
“It’s not that the things mattered,” she said. “It was the history of a piece that mattered. Once I realized who might have been the previous owners and why they had it, that’s what I was fascinated by. But it was at the time when I was lonely. And what are you supposed to do when you’re lonely? Well, you find things to fill your time with. You find things to be happy with. I was always very taken by everybody else’s stories. And that’s what antiques are. They are wood that has absorbed the stories of all the people who have owned them. So you’ll find an eclectic mix of pieces in the house. And, no, I don’t mind if you sell all of them.”
“I worry you don’t have enough money,” Doreen said quietly. “It would bother me to think you had invested all your money in all these things. Then I sell them, and I get the money, and yet, you’re suffering.”
Nan’s gaze opened wide. She patted her granddaughter’s hand. “You really are a sweetheart, but I am not suffering,” she said firmly. “I have lots of money, money in my accounts. I’m hoping you’ll do something with the antiques, so you have some income, and so you won’t be starving.”
“And speaking of starving,” Doreen said, straightening in the chair, “I made omelets the other day.”
Nan clapped her hands together and chuckled. “Wow! I am so happy to hear that. Is that what you and Mack were eating?”
Doreen frowned at her. “As a matter of fact, it was, but I don’t want you to make too much out of it.”
“Not at all,” Nan said. “And, if Mack is teaching you how to cook, then I am doubly delighted. If I was still there, I’d be helping you myself.” She leaned forward and in a loaded whisper said, “But this gives Mack a really good reason to stop by all the time, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t think he needs any reason right now,” Doreen admitted. “We have so much going on in our lives that keep intersecting. I don’t think it’s much of an issue.”
“I’m glad you came over today,” Nan said. “You’ve really put a sparkle back into my mood.”
Doreen chuckled. “Ditto. I do love that it’s just a short walk to visit you.” She lifted her teacup, took a sip, and, when she put it down, she said, “Do you have any of your favorite recipes written down?”
Nan nodded. “They’re still at the house. I don’t do much cooking now. If I do, it’s nothing I don’t already know by heart.”
“That would be lovely,” Doreen said. “I can’t wait until I can do things without recipes.”
“You do lots of things,” Nan said. “What you did for Paul’s family was tremendous. Not to mention for the poor handyman who was accused of stealing that poor little boy.”
“I guess everybody is talking about that now too, aren’t they?” Doreen asked.
“Of course they are,” Nan said. “Just think about it. Look at how much you’ve done for the families.”
Doreen nodded. “Much less so for the Family Planning Center though.”
“That Cecily was a problem to begin with,” Nan said. “I warned my neighbors about her a long time ago. She was just trouble. Very strict, very opinionated, that woman,” Nan said with an admonishing finger. “I’m sorry the other two were killed, but I really could see her life ending in a bad way.”
“Well, she’ll be in jail for a long time,” Doreen said.
“So tell me more. I need all the details on how you found Paul and the handyman. Don’t leave anything out. The
residents here are immensely curious.” Nan smiled and waited.
Doreen sighed. She couldn’t talk Nan out of this. For all Doreen knew, Nan was acting as bookie for many related bets among the old folks here on this particular cold case. Sighing again, Doreen began her tale. Nan had many questions. Doreen figured each one had to do with Nan’s particular gambling matters. Shaking her head, Doreen answered each one. An hour later, Doreen was hungry. “You know what? That ham sandwich sounds pretty good right now. I’ll make one, unless you want to share one with me?”
Nan shook her head, jumping up. “I’ve got this. You sit here and rest.” Nan returned shortly with a sandwich and some baby carrots. “So what are you working on now?” Nan asked, easily sliding in that question.
Doreen caught herself from telling her grandmother everything she knew and settled on the basic truth. “Just the case of Johnny Jordan, who went missing.”
“I think it’s fascinating that Penny contacted you. And I do love that you came here to talk to me about it. It’s like we’re coconspirators or something,” Nan said with a chuckle.
“Potentially we are,” Doreen said, laughing. “Because everybody here is such a huge source of information that it would be absolutely amazing if I could find out more stuff on what Johnny was like, what his friends were like. Just think about it. I mean, there’s a whole world I can’t access because I didn’t live here back then, but those of you who did, that’s massive. You all have huge memory banks I can’t even imagine.”
“That’s true enough,” Nan said. “And we definitely have an awful lot of people here who would have been around back then.” She pursed her lips as she thought. “I’ll have to talk to some people here. I know Penny’s neighbor. I think her name is Ginger. She lived there at the same time Johnny went missing. She might remember something about it.”
“It would help if it wasn’t a family member,” Doreen said, “because family members always tend to remember the deceased with a kind eye but not necessarily an honest eye. Nobody wants to think of their family members as being anything other than delightful. But the truth is, as you and I both know, not everyone is always as delightful as the family members want to remember them.”
Nan chuckled. “Well, Ginger is here, and she wasn’t family, so I’ll talk to her. If I can pin her down that is. She’s gone lots.”
“If you could, that would be awesome. I really have absolutely nothing to go on. A big strapping young man gets up one day and walks away. The end.”
“Not necessarily,” Nan said. “We know his vehicle was involved in an accident not long after he went missing that killed two of his buddies. We always wondered if they’d had something to do with Johnny’s disappearance. Plus, how did they end up with his vehicle?”
“I’ll ask Penny about that,” Doreen said. “I plan to walk around her property to get an idea on the last-known location for Johnny and where his dagger was found.”
“If you walk home on the other side of the creek,” Nan said, “you’ll get there in half the time. It’s probably only a ten- or fifteen-minute walk.” She glanced at her watch. “You could probably walk by her place after our tea.”
Doreen loved that idea. She finished her tea and the last baby carrot, and said, “In that case, maybe I’ll go now.” Giving Nan a big hug and leaving her the copy of the letter, she turned and headed back out with the animals.
She stopped for a moment to orient herself, and, using the stepping stones, though of course one was missing, skipped across to the sidewalk, went down and around, then behind the old folks’ home. She could cross the creek on this side and walk over and probably hit Penny’s within a few minutes. At least according to Nan.
As Doreen rounded the corner, Mugs sniffed all over the grass, as if it was a common walkway for dogs. She was forced to tug him forward quite a bit because the last thing she wanted was the gardener to think that Mugs would pee on his perfect grass. She couldn’t even imagine if Mugs left a turd somewhere close by. The gardener would probably have a heart attack. Smirking, she led her menagerie toward the sidewalk.
Chapter 9
Thursday Late Afternoon …
Doreen crossed the bridge and walked happily, enjoying the late afternoon sun. She hadn’t been very long at Nan’s, although the hours had disappeared quickly. Still, she had time to check out Penny’s home and to figure out where the missing young man had possibly gone to from there.
It wasn’t long before she came to the row of houses described by Nan. Doreen wanted to check out the park behind them.
She took the access path to the large open green space. Goliath alternated from being distracted to running ahead. Mugs, well, he just moseyed along, sniffing with his big nose, and Thaddeus hummed at her shoulder. She noted a couple goalposts, as if for casual games of football. A pitcher’s mound sat on the other side of the park. The nearby houses were all fenced with gates to the park—all chain-link construction per the park’s guidelines for a consistent and symmetrical look. So, if Johnny had wanted to, he could certainly have opened the gate and stepped into the park, where anything could have happened.
Thaddeus flew to the ground and walked along the fence.
She wandered up and down it with him, considering what the growth of the trees and the shrubs would have been like some twenty-nine years ago. Many of the bordering properties had cedar hedges; some were very thick. Back then they would have been smaller, and anybody on the other side of the fence would be visible.
Somebody might have called out to Johnny. He would have willingly gone to them. It wasn’t likely that somebody would have gone into the backyard, knocked him over the head, tossed him over their shoulder, and carried maybe a 180-pound male through the park without being seen. It was late afternoon on a sunny day at the time of his disappearance. Surely someone would have seen such an altercation.
His friends could also have asked him to pick up booze or to go to a party. The fact was, she didn’t know what happened to him or, for that matter, to his car from the time Johnny went missing twenty-nine years ago to his friends dying in it just a few weeks after Johnny’s disappearance. Anything was supposition at this point. And she knew what Mack thought of those …
As she stood, she heard her name called. She turned to see Penny peering over the gate.
“It is you,” Penny stated happily.
Doreen walked toward her. “I wanted to see what the area was like,” she confessed.
Penny opened the gate. “I’m so glad you’re taking this seriously. I know George is smiling in heaven right now.”
Doreen hoped so. It was kind of creepy though to think of all those faces up there, smiling down at the other poor sods who lived their life on earth. She walked around the backyard, studying where the kitchen window was and what the view would be like. “Well, I doubt someone would have come onto your property and knocked him out, picked him up, and carried him away,” she said, “particularly with you watching.”
“Although we weren’t necessarily watching the whole time,” Penny admitted. “We often wondered what we missed.”
“Makes more sense to call him into the park, although any number of people could have seen him there too.”
“Sure, but no one reported having seen him at that time on that day.”
“What happened to his vehicle? I understand he had a car?”
“Yes. He had George’s old car. The two worked on it constantly.”
With Penny’s assistance, they went through the motions of where the bench had been and where the knife was found. With her cell phone, Doreen took several photographs, including one of the gated entrance into the park.
She also noted that, if Johnny had wanted to, he could have gone around either side of the house into the front yard. “Do you know how his friends got the keys?”
She shook her head. “I assumed they stole them. Johnny may very well have had the keys on him, or he may have just left the vehicle unlocked. For all I know they were ou
t for a joyride, they killed him and then took off in his car. I don’t know. I understood that, for a while, they were all laughing at being able to hot-wire cars. They might very well have thought to pull that prank with his vehicle. But Johnny and George had done a lot to soup it up. Johnny was pretty happy with the aftermarket stuff they were doing to it. He really wanted to get himself a muscle car. But George cautioned Johnny about getting rid of this car too early. Though Johnny wanted to sell it, George didn’t want him to.”
“It’s quite possible that one of his friends decided he should sell it regardless, and, if he didn’t sell it, he should just give it to them, whether he liked it or not. So, when he went missing, they might have taken it as their due.”
“That’s a possibility,” Penny said. “I know we tossed around an awful lot of theories back then. I don’t know if that one in particular was ever brought up, but, in a way, it does make sense. I know he wouldn’t have sold it cheap though. The aftermarket upgrades cost thousands even back them.”
They talked a bit longer. When she felt she could learn nothing else, she started to leave but turned back. “Do you remember anything about the vehicle? License plate, model?”
Penny shook her head. “No, but I’m sure Mack can get it from the files.”
Doreen nodded. “I’m sure he can. It doesn’t mean he will share it with me though.” She gave a slight wave, and, with the animals, headed back the way she’d come.
Penny called behind her. “If you go along the creek, you’ll come up on the north side of your place.”
Doreen looked at her in surprise, then tried to reorient herself from where she was. “Thanks. I’ll try that.” She headed off to the right.
The sun was setting and getting to that half-dusky light outside. That was a bit of a concern. It was also getting cooler. It was spring, but a breeze had picked up. Trusting in Penny, Doreen kept marching forward until she came to the creek.
She stopped, studying it, then realized Penny was right. Doreen was farther up from where her property was. Now if she could find a way to get to her familiar path on the creek, she could walk across the little bridge to her home.