“What’s taking you so long?” yelled Donna.
Oh, my God! Is Nina back?
The plumbing groaned and rattled. A few moments later a stranger appeared. Scrawny frame. Short, curly mousy-brown hair. Late sixties-early seventies—or too many years worshipping the sun back in her youth.
“I was in the bathroom. My colitis is really kicking up.”
“I’m sorry, honey. It’s got to be the hotel food. You know how you get when you’re off your regular diet.” Donna patted the couch. “Come sit. A good laugh will make you feel better.”
Who is this person and why is she here?
“I’m not a big fan of that show. It’s too weird for me. I like old shows like Cheers, Frasier, M*A*S*H*, The Mary Tyler Moore Show. Those are funny, timeless shows.”
“Honey. Keep up with the times or you’ll get old,” said Donna.
The woman scooted closer to Donna and flung her bony, sleeveless arm around her. “I am old. So are you, sweetybabe.” She rested her head on Donna’s broad shoulder. “You were right about the weather, though. I’ve been here for nearly two weeks and my achy old bones feel so much better.” She extended her arm. “Get a load of my gorgeous tan from laying by the pool at the hotel. Can’t get a tan like that in Ketchikan.”
Who is she?
Donna slowly and delicately ran her fingers down the woman’s arm. “You got a lot of cute freckles, too.”
That’s pretty intimate. Are they a couple?
Donna turned over her hand. “Those are nasty blisters. How’d you get them?”
“I’ve been using the rowing machine in the exercise room. Trying to get in better shape.”
“I better give them a kiss.”
Okay. They are definitely a couple, but who is the woman?
Donna went on. “I wish I’d known you were coming, though.”
“I thought it would be fun to surprise you—but if it’s too much having me here, I can go back to the Ramada. Or maybe I should go home.”
“No, I want you here, Michelle,” said Donna.
Oh, my God! That’s her best friend, Michelle.
Donna went on. “I should’ve had you stay at the house as soon as you arrived. But I didn’t know how she’d feel about us sharing a bed. Now that I think about it, I could’ve slept on the couch and given you my room.”
“We could’ve had clandestine midnight sex,” said Michelle. “Your aunt never would’ve suspected we’re more than best friends.”
Donna playfully slapped Michelle’s arm. “Aren’t you a naughty girl! When Aunt Nina is found—”
“And she will be. Very soon. I can feel it in my bones.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears. When she’s safely home, I promise I will tell her about us.” Donna kissed Michelle tenderly. “I should’ve years ago, and I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. She comes from a generation that frowns upon gay relationships,” said Michelle. “And it’s not like we live close by. There really was no reason to tell her.”
“I still should have. You know, I think she’ll be okay with it. She never liked Gary.”
“No one liked Gary, except for his floozie girlfriend, Tami.” Michelle slid off the couch onto her knees with a groan, holding the couch arm for support.
“What’s wrong?” asked Donna.
“I pulled a muscle in my back, and this knee replacement is not meant for kneeling.” Michelle adjusted her position, then let go of the sofa and took Donna’s hands in hers.
“Shelly? What’re you doing? You’re hurting your knee.”
“Screw my knee.” She kissed Donna’s hand. “Sweetheart? Love of my life?”
Donna shrieked like a giddy schoolgirl. “Oh, my God!”
“Will you do me the honor of being my wife ’til death do us part?”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
Things proceeded to get hot and heavy, and it was time to leave. I may be the neighborhood Peeping-Katy; however, I do have certain standards.
But I had to tell someone! As soon as I got in my house, I FaceTimed Ruby and Sam, my partners in crime.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Monday • July 13
Posted by Katy McKenna
Nina has lived here for eons, so she’s bound to have a few friends around town that may know where she might be. Perhaps she called someone, and they came and sneaked her out of the house.
However, if they watch the local news, then they’d know the police are looking for her. So you’d think they would tell the cops where she is.
Unless they believe Nina’s life is in danger. If this was Samantha, and she asked me not to tell anyone, I wouldn’t. Friends protect friends.
So, who are Nina’s friends? I’m thinking she’s not on Facebook, but you never know. I shouldn’t presume that because she’s older, she wouldn’t use it.
Nina has a profile!
However, she hasn’t posted in a couple years. She didn’t set her privacy settings, so I can see her friends list. I concentrated on the local ones.
• Ruth Bennett: Four kids, seven grandkids, three great-grandkids. She lives on Cedar Court. That’s about a mile from my house.
• Bev Rowan: A very active political poster. Despises the president, the governor, the senators, etc. Pretty much everyone on both sides of the aisle, and thinks everything is a conspiracy. She types all her posts in capital letters and uses a lot of angry faces and fire emojis. A real hothead that I doubt Nina would go to for help.
• Phyllis Yinn: Lives in assisted care, so that’s a no.
• Gail Kemp: Not as old as Nina’s other friends. Looks like she’s in her early sixties. She makes and delivers kettle corn. I love kettle corn, so I will definitely pay her a visit.
• Janey Whitaker: She and her husband Wilson teach ballroom dancing and Zumba at the senior center and are foster parents for the humane society.
There are a few others, but this will be enough to start. I messaged Ruth, Gail, and Janey.
Hi. I’m a concerned neighbor of Nina Lowen. Have you heard from her? I thought she might be staying with a friend.
An hour later, Janey Whitaker responded to my message.
Sorry. Haven’t heard from Nina in a few months. I’m worried, too. I can’t imagine her just walking away. The reporter made her sound demented, but she was sharp as a tack last time I saw her.
I hadn’t received a response from Gail and Ruth. That didn’t surprise me since it had only been an hour since I messaged them, plus we’re not Facebook friends. I found their addresses online and decided to drive by their houses.
First up—Ruth Bennett on Cedar Court. There was a For Sale sign planted in the lawn, with “Sold” attached. The house looked unoccupied. Window coverings were closed, and a plastic-bagged phone book sat on the front walk.
Next up was Gail Kemp, the kettle corn lady. Her house is a sprawling rancher. Black metal roof, white board and batten siding with a cheery yellow farmhouse-style front door. I parked across the street under a shady old oak and watched the house for a while. At some point I dozed off, and a sharp tap on the car roof startled me awake.
“You all right?”
I sat up straight with a sheepish smile, and looked up at a older strawberry blond peering at me through horn rims balanced on the end of her nose. “Yes, I’m fine. Just waiting for someone.”
“Who? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“No, that’s fine. I probably look a little suspicious sitting here in my car.”
She grinned. “Maybe a little. But I doubt many criminals are driving old orange Volvo wagons. You kind of stand out in the crowd.”
I got out of the car. “I’m looking for Gail Kemp. Are you her by any chance?”
She stepped back, crossing her arms. “Are you going to serve me a subpoena or something?”
I laughed. “No. Actually, I’m a friend of Nina Lowen’s.”
“Oh, dear. I saw she went missing on the news.”
“So, yo
u haven’t heard from her?”
“No, why would you think that?”
“I live a couple houses down from her on Sycamore Lane, and I thought she might be at a friend’s house and not want anyone to know. I found you in her Facebook friends list.”
She brushed aside her long bangs and they immediately flopped back. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help.”
“Oh, well.” I shrugged, and opened the car door. “It was worth a try.”
“Wait. Give me your number. In case I hear from her,” she said. “You never know.”
There were no updates about Nina on the evening news. My Facebook post hasn’t gathered any helpful information either, just a bunch of prayer and teary emojis, and one nasty troll who wants to be my friend. Gail called and said she’d talked to a few of her mom’s old friends, but no one had any knowledge about Nina’s whereabouts.
How does an elderly person just up and disappear in the middle of the night? My last visit to her house had been quite a shocker. While it didn’t solve the mystery of Nina’s disappearance, Donna’s girlfriend certainly added a whole new dimension to the story.
With no fresh ideas, I guess it’s time to pay another snoop visit. Who knows what new things I might learn? This time I’m ramping up my investigation by documenting it with a video.
Feeling like a creepy criminal, I stood on the right side of the living room window holding my phone near the bottom corner. The evening was warm, and the window was wide open. With a little luck, I would get a good recording.
Donna’s fiancée Michelle sat on the couch pawing through a red velvet jewelry box. She held up a bracelet, inspecting it under the lamp, then slipped it on and held out her scrawny arm to admire it. “Sure wish you hadn’t pawned her wedding rings, sweetybabe. They would have been perfect for me.”
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” yelled Donna from another room. “The ring wasn’t mine to pawn, or give to you for that matter.”
“You were thinking you needed money to finish the remodel, and she never wore her rings anymore, so she’d never miss them.” She dipped into a big bowl of potato chips sitting on the couch next to her and stuffed a handful in her mouth.
Donna lumbered into the room still leaning on a cane. “I had no business doing that. The jewelry hasn’t sold yet, so maybe I should go back and get them.”
Michelle held up the chip bowl and Donna shook her head.
“I don’t think you should. But it’s not my call.” Michelle set the bowl on the floor and plucked a ring out of the box. “Here’s something nice.” She slipped it on her left ring finger. “This could work. Come see.”
Donna collapsed beside her with a loud groan. “That emerald ring was my great-grandmother’s.”
“It would have to be sized. It’s too loose.” Michelle held out her hand, wiggling her finger. “But it’s lovely. Two emeralds entwined in a circle eight of gold. A symbol of our neverending love.” She pecked Donna’s cheek, and dropped the ring back in the jewelry box. “Now, let’s find something for you.”
“You know, I still have my wedding ring.” Donna closed the box and set it on the end table.
“Why on earth would you still have it?”
Donna sighed. “It’s a family heirloom, so it’s not like Gary bought it for me. When he died, I threw it in the jewelry box and forgot about it until now.” She put the chip bowl on her lap. “Potato chips are my downfall.” She delicately bit into one, and then jammed it in her mouth. “Mmm. So good.”
“If you ask me, it all worked out perfectly. Gary died; you got everything, plus all that life insurance. Justice prevailed.”
“I’m glad you talked me into getting those life insurance policies,” said Donna. “Although, I never, in my wildest dreams, thought I would be the one collecting it.”
Michelle embraced her, and the chip bowl spilled onto the floor. She pulled back, laughing. “We’re truly a couple, now. Soon to be married. Finally.”
Donna touched Michelle’s cheek. “We’ve wasted so much precious time hiding in the shadows—worrying about what everyone else thinks.” She dabbed her eyes with the hem of her knee-length lime green muumuu. “But we can’t do anything until we get Aunt Nina safely back home. Then you and I will go back to Ketchikan and get married.”
Whoa! Wait a sec! I thought Donna sold her Ketchikan house and moved to Hawaii.
Michelle placed a hand on Donna’s shoulder. “Sweetie? Do you really want to go back to Ketchikan? It’s like paradise here. Ketchikan, well, sure it’s beautiful, but you’ve said you’re sick of all the rain. You know what? You need to take a ride in my snazzy rental. That’ll change your mind. We couldn’t have a Mustang convertible in Ketchikan.”
“Sure we could. But it wouldn’t be very practical.”
“I am so tired of living a practical life. Aren’t you?”
“We can’t afford to live here.”
“If your aunt is deceased...”
Donna started sputtering protests, and Michelle set a hand on her knee. “If Nina is… God forbid…gone. Then this house is yours.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Michelle moved away from Donna, facing her square. “This house is worth over a million, you know.”
“I know that.” Donna nodded. “That’s why I figured if Aunt Nina put fifty to seventy-five thousand into it to bring it up to date, she could get at least 1.5 million. At first, she was on board with the remodeling idea, but then she got that bug before we even got the job started, and the chaos was too much for her. I told you how ornery she was getting. Rejecting the medicine and her vitamins. It got to where I was forcing her.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. It was for her own good.”
“Was it? Let’s face it. Keeping her doped up made life a lot easier for me. Then the other day, when I was yet again, forcing her to take her medicine, she said she wasn’t signing any more checks. She told me—” Donna sighed heavily, her voice trembling. “She wanted me to go home. She said she’d seen the yard and hated it. Hated me. I tried to explain that she would love it when I was done. Then she grabbed the medicine and swallowed it, saying she wished she would die and be done with it. I’m sorry I’m venting. You already know all this.”
“You thought you were doing a good thing for Nina, so quit beating yourself up.”
Donna covered her face with her hands. “I literally drove my aunt out of her own home. I have to fix the mess I’ve made, but how can I with no money?” She lowered her hands. “I do have one idea.”
“What?”
“We take a second mortgage on the vacation condo. It was so stupid to use my inheritance from Mom as a down payment on that place. What a waste of money.”
“At the time, we thought having a vacation rental in Maui was an excellent investment,” said Michelle. “We’d vacation there a couple times a year and make loads of money.”
“Yeah, and then the home owner’s association made that new rule prohibiting vacation rentals,” said Donna. “Maybe we should sell my house in Ketchikan and move there. Then you’d have your sun and warm weather—and you could tool around in a fun convertible.”
Michelle shook her head. “No. It would be like living in Ketchikan.”
“How on earth is living in an island paradise even remotely like living in Ketchikan?” asked Donna.
Yeah, how is that? I wondered.
“Island fever. Not being able to take long road trips. I want to see the country before I’m too old to do it.”
“You have a valid point. I didn’t think of that.”
“I do have an idea,” said Michelle. “But you may not like it.”
“What?”
“Please keep an open mind.” She inhaled a big breath. “You forge Nina’s signature on a power of attorney and predate it to a couple weeks ago.”
“There’s no—”
Michelle held up a hand. “Let me finish. If you did that, you could write all the checks you want and wrap
up this remodel quickly for Nina, so she can sell it. Or if she’s no longer with us, then at least the remodel will be done, and—”
“I already have power of attorney,” said Donna. “We did it a couple days after I arrived. She wanted me to have it in case something happened to her. Like a stroke or something. She would need someone to make decisions. ”
“That’s great!” Michelle looked elated. “Then you can go ahead and write the checks you need to get the job done. But, if Nina is gone, then please, please, please consider not selling this house. We can sell your house in Ketchikan and the Maui condo, and live happily ever after right here in our own little paradise.”
“What if she’s never found?” said Donna. “Then what?”
“Well, I had wondered about that. So I did some research. If she isn’t found, we will have to wait five years before she can be legally declared dead.”
“So I guess we’d have to go back to Ketchikan.”
“I’ve never heard of relatives being forced out of homes when a family member goes missing.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Donna stared at her lap. “God, I miss Baby Girl.”
Michelle draped her arms around Donna. “You know what else I’m right about, sweetybabe? I’m right about not waiting to get married. We’ve waited long enough!”
HEE-HAW! HEE-HAW!
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Tuesday • July 14
Posted by Katy McKenna
Last night
Continued
HEE-HAW! HEE-HAW!
I jammed my braying phone into my pants to muffle the sound, and scrambled for the street, tripping over rocks and dirt clods. When I reached the sidewalk, Michelle screamed from the front door, “Who’s out there?”
Safe on my porch, I clicked recent calls. It was a spam call about my car warranty expiring. My 1976 car.
“What’s the big rush?” Simon was coming up the walk.
While She Slumbered: The Murder Blog Mysteries #5 Page 17