Armed and Outrageous (An Agnes Barton Mystery)

by Johns, Madison

  I had a brilliant idea, and as a result, a wicked grin formed on my lips while I thought it over a moment, then I shared the idea with Eleanor.

  “I’m going to Robinson’s Manor to question the missing woman’s father, which would likely be a complete bore for you, Eleanor.” If only I could persuade Eleanor to stay behind, not that she’d get in the way, she might even be an asset. Eleanor, despite her age, attracted men with her loud personality and winning smile. Perhaps the missing girl’s father just might open up to Eleanor sooner than for snoopy me.

  Eleanor rolled her eyes about. “You mean Robinson's Manor, the bed and breakfast?”

  “Is there another Robinson’s I don’t know about,” I said as I tried not to visibly shake. Think about the father, not about the place where an entire family was murdered in '68. “Eleanor, is there any way you would stay behind while I speak with the missing woman’s father?”

  “Not a flippin’ chance.” Eleanor laughed, shaking her belly. She struggled to get out of her chair. “Besides, Agnes, someone needs to keep you out of trouble.” She winked.

  I helped my friend out of her chair just like I helped her with everything she needed.

  Eleanor had only held one job in her lifetime, and that was for a mere six weeks; it’d been a job at a paper factory, all before she was married. Once she became Mrs. Mason, she was forced to quit because they didn’t want any married women employed there. In those days with no unions and no laws to protect a worker, she had no choice in the matter. That’s how it was back then.

  Years later when Eleanor found out that her husband Wilbert had cheated on her, she wigged out and chased him with a butcher knife. When the police showed up, they merely insisted he leave temporarily, for his own safety. In those days, domestic abuse was hardly a crime. It was best kept between the married couple as, frankly, law enforcement simply didn’t want to get between a man and his wife.

  Eleanor had moved into her mother’s house shortly after, but in those days, there weren’t any decent jobs, especially for women.

  A few years back, Eleanor’s son Max tried to put her in a nursing home, but I wouldn’t have it. I helped her fill out the court papers, so she could keep her independence.

  Max never visited his mother, a shameful thing. Maybe she hadn’t been the best mother, but what was she to do?

  When I married my high school sweetheart, Tom Barton, I thought we’d be together forever. I never contemplated he’d die from a heart attack at age forty-two.

  Tom was a state trooper, and it would be more likely that he would die in the line of duty. I still remembered when the police came to the door and informed me. I was shell-shocked. He didn’t die violently. They just found him in his police cruiser, dead. It took the cold autopsy results to determine the cause of death.

  We had married at nineteen and had two children, Martha and Stuart. Both were over eighteen when their father died. Not one to hold anyone back, I insisted the children go to college as planned.

  After my husband had died, I had a terrible time coping. At least my children were grown and away at college, although that fact did add to my loneliness. There were days when I barely made it out of bed. I had no desire to. After all, my husband had passed away, and nothing would ever bring him back.

  I gazed around my recently remodeled kitchen with ire, and wondered if that had contributed to his death. He had, after all, done most of the remodeling work himself with the help of Kevin Bower, our neighbor. The house where I had once raised my children now seemed like a tomb which kept me confined. It still hurts even now.

  Six months later, I became forced to make hard choices. I needed a job, a good one. I thought back to all the crummy jobs, and wondered why I didn’t go to college. I was only forty-two at the time.

  I started my own business cleaning houses. In short order, it became more interesting than I could have ever dreamed.

  All over town, my clients’ business was quickly my business, and I learned more about my clients than I could ever have imagined a cleaning lady could do! I did so simply by listening to their gossip. They vented and raged on the telephone or with someone visiting while I went around them like an invisible person.

  I learned to keep my mouth shut and ears open, all the while keeping an expressionless face. No way would they ever know I was compiling data about them.

  Two months after cleaning the offices of Attorney Andrew Hart, I struck gold. I gave him a few tips, and we made a deal. I continued my cleaning duties while working undercover for him.

  Being an investigator for a lawyer was no easy task. First and foremost, I couldn’t tell a soul, and second my boss was Andrew Hart. I felt attracted to him, but he was married. He had sealed the deal before he became a hotshot lawyer, and I knew he wouldn’t risk losing half of what he worked for just for a fling. Nor would I begin to settle for such a horrid and messy arrangement, and besides, he never once gave me more than a passing look.

  Of course, Hart didn’t know what he was missing, but I was careful to keep my desire for him concealed. Regardless of my hidden feelings for my boss; they became the best days of my life. After Tom, of course – since Tom’s passing, you understand. Oh yes, I loved the job, loved to be the first person to greet Andrew with fresh, brewed coffee poured and waiting for him.

  He smiled at me every morning and a glimmer shone from his brown, bedroom eyes. The edges of his dark hair had just begun to turn a light gray, and I longed to run my fingers through his hair. He was fit and trim, although only five-foot-eight, it completed the already, impeccable package. I never knew what aftershave he wore, but it reminded me of fresh rain and cinnamon. Maybe it was the coffee. He smelled so good it made me weak in the knees, which is something I hadn’t felt since Tom.

  Remembering those days sent a tremor through me. I heard his wife died of cancer five years ago, but I stopped myself from looking him up. He barely noticed me after all, but I still had my fantasies.

  I forced myself back to the present. “If you want to come with me to Robinson’s Manor, you better be ready now, Eleanor,” I said, walking out the door.

  “Don’t you dare leave without me, Agnes Barton.”

  Eleanor hobbled out the door after me, and I sat in the car waiting for her to make herself comfortable next to me while contemplating the long list of helpful facts and information I might squeeze out of the father. After all, I’d done pretty well with the boyfriend.

  Chapter Five

  The journey to Robinson’s Manor took only five minutes, as it was just a few miles away. Turning onto the paved road, I shuddered when two squirrels darted across the drive.

  “I don’t know what bothers me more, meeting Jennifer’s dad or going to the manor,” I mused. Eleanor knew the reason why: Robinson’s Bed & Breakfast was not just any manor but the place where six people were brutally murdered. I quietly added, “Why in the world would anyone in their right mind turn a house with such a dark history into a bed and breakfast?”

  “Why would anyone sleep all night there?” Eleanor asked.

  “People’s fascination with the supernatural is why. You can find a ghost hunter type show any night of the week on the tube.” I gripped the steering wheel tighter. All the tiny hairs rose on the back of my neck. “For all we know, there is a murderer amongst us. A real cold-blooded killer that raped and murdered Mrs. Robinson before finishing off the rest of the family with a claw hammer.”

  “Just because they never found the killer … that fact doesn’t mean he or she is still around here, Agnes.”

  “Woman?” My eyebrows rose.

  “It could be a woman.”

  “How’d you figure that?”

  “Could be a couple. I heard of cases like that.” She gripped her black purse. It looked more like luggage to me, and I wondered what in the heck she kept inside.

  The car surged ahead as we cleared the woods. Tightly wound shrubs lined the woods surrounding Robinson’s Manor, and the sight of an array o
f multicolored roses welcomed us as I drove past. Majestic maple trees stood beyond the shrubs, and it occurred to me how easily someone could hide among them.

  I parked in the rear, where the parking lot was hidden behind the white columned mansion. Curious glances shot from the deck, impaling my heart.

  This could be a small town anywhere in Michigan, but it wasn’t. This tightly knit community was so shrouded in mystery that it reeked. I am sure that most who passed by our town on their way to East Tawas, never gave it much thought, but they didn’t know the truth. The real truth was that this miniscule town had all the makings of the infamous Peyton Place, USA.

  Most of the community was of a certain age–folks fighting their advancing years with unusual vigor. Many businesses came and went through the years, but most of the seniors stayed.

  Walking toward the back deck, I saw more familiar faces than unfamiliar ones. Robinson’s Manor catered to more people than their guests. It sure looked to draw the local folks for lunch. They offered a full menu, including the most sinful desserts I have ever tasted. My favorite is the hot fudge sundae.

  I scolded myself. I wasn’t here for dessert; I was here on business.

  I pulled the back door open, trying to keep a low profile. I didn’t want to draw any more attention than necessary, but the door creaked and made such a racket that everyone looked up and stared straight at me.

  I sucked in my breath when I saw Dorothy and Frank Alton seated closest to the door.

  “Look, Frank,” Dorothy said. She cackled like she always did, which reminded me of a witch, not that much of a stretch.

  Frank either had his hearing aid turned down or was ignoring his wife, as he didn’t look up from his bowl of soup, continuing to eat.

  Dorothy swatted his arm with her napkin. “Frank, did you hear me?”

  Right on cue, he fidgeted with his hearing aid. He was turning it up. I knew it. He probably turned it down to drown her out. That’s what I’d do.

  I guided Eleanor through the crowd before Eleanor could say anything. The two women had gone more than a few rounds before.

  “Why did you do that, Aggie?” Eleanor asked. “I’d like to give that woman a piece of my mind.”

  “Yes, I know, but we're here on a mission. Remember?”

  Eleanor sighed, rubbing her knuckles. I'd hate to see Eleanor and Dorothy scrap again. It was a once a month occurrence.

  I spotted William Martin seated along the opposite wall. He looked just like his picture in the newspaper.

  I walked across the room and noticed another man was seated with him. Undaunted, I continued toward the table and waited until the men noticed me.

  William Martin was every bit the hotshot businessman I expected, but his clothing spoke “on vacation,” complete with khaki shorts and loose white tropical shirt. I even noticed his deck shoes when I walked up.

  “I hate to bother you, but are you William Martin?” I asked.

  He seemed to be surveying me before he spoke. “Yes, I am. Who are you?”

  “My name is A... “

  “Her name is Agnes Barton, investigator extraordinaire.”

  I snapped my head around and looked into the warm, brown eyes of Andrew Hart. I held my breath for a full two minutes, feeling faint.

  He jumped up, pulled out a chair, and guided me onto it. Thank God, I almost fainted – that would have been a scene.

  I saw Eleanor dart across the room, returning with a glass of ice water and a cloth. She placed it against my head, always the consummate nursemaid.

  “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.” I fanned myself with my hand.

  “Maybe you should go to the doctor,” Andrew suggested. Concern filling his eyes like honey.

  “I’ll be fine, I was just a... “

  “Bit shocked to see me after all these years perhaps?”

  I smiled. “I suppose it could be that.” I turned to look into William’s eyes, worried that he would be irritated with the intrusion, but he smiled kindly.

  “What do you want with me?” William asked.

  “I heard about your daughter’s disappearance, and I was hoping I could help.”

  He frowned. “Help how?” He looked me in the eyes, his hope evident.

  “May I ask you some questions?” I took a sip of the water, the condensation dripping on my shirt.

  “William, let me assure you,” began Andrew, “Agnes has a knack for finding out things. She was an investigator for my law office in Saginaw years ago, and she is good at what she does.”

  I anticipated his response. “I know what you may think. I’m some old woman, so what can I possibly do, right?”

  He let out a breath I felt clear over on my side of the table. “The Sheriff isn’t taking her disappearance seriously.”

  “He didn't when my granddaughter went missing last summer either. I think their disappearances could be related, and there have been others.”

  “How many others?”

  “At least three that I know of, all of them under the same circumstances. They go for a walk or jog north on US 23, and they vanish into thin air.”

  “Jennifer is special. She’s on medication and if she doesn’t get it … well, it may endanger her life.”

  “I understand.” I shifted in the chair. “Have you received any ransom notes?

  “No, I wish I had because I’d pay whatever they asked.”

  “Has anyone threatened you?”

  “I own a large company. It comes with the territory.”

  “Lately?”

  “Nobody has ever threatened my family before.”

  “So you’re married then?” Eleanor, who had joined us, asked, eyelashes batting.

  She’s such a buttinski, I wanted to say but kept it to myself.

  I rolled my eyes. “This is my dear friend, Eleanor Mason.”

  Eleanor shook William's hand lingering longer than William was comfortable with by the look displayed on his face.

  “Yes, I’m married, but I don’t see what that... “

  “Are you cheating?”

  He stood. “Cheating? Who in the hell do you think you are asking me that?”

  I stood too. “I’m trying to help you. If you can’t give it to me straight, maybe you really don’t want to find your daughter.”

  He sat back down and glowered at me. I knew I had struck a nerve.

  I too plopped back down. “Do you know anything about your daughter’s social life?”

  “Not really, no. You see, I work long hours and travel frequently.”

  “I see. Do you know Kevin Marks?”

  “No.”

  I leaned forward. “That’s strange. He told me that you offered him money to leave your daughter alone.”

  “When did he tell you that?”

  “Earlier. He seemed pretty upset about it too. He mentioned how overprotective you are.”

  “Did he now? Did he mention why I might feel that way? That he took advantage of my daughter and got her pregnant last year.”

  “Jennifer has a baby?

  I knew my face had flushed with shock. This is a situation when I can’t mask my facial expressions. I was also a terrible liar, but managed to spin a tale or two if it would help me attain information.

  “No, she had an abortion. She is very sick, too sick to go through a pregnancy.”

  “Is that what she wanted?” I couldn't believe he’d be that cold.

  “I did what any caring father would do, and in the end, she realized it was the right decision.”

  Young Kevin had the father pegged.

  “I really need the names of any of her friends that you can come up with.”

  “It might take awhile. How can I reach you?”

  I gave him my card and stood. “I will await your call.” I nodded at Andrew and with Eleanor following, made for the door.

  I held my breath as emotions threatened to come to the surface. Damn but Andrew still looked good after all these years. H
is Bermuda shorts and white linen shirt clung to his body like a glove. No beer belly in sight. He obviously kept himself in shape.

  I’m too damn old to be thinking what I’m thinking. It's possible he remarried or may be the type to date younger women; he certainly had the body for it.

  Chapter Six

  I kicked back on the deck, sitting on Eleanor’s lime green lawn chair and groaned when fibers that worked loose stabbed me in an unmentionable place. I watched the sun disappear beneath Lake Huron. Rays of orange, gray, and pink spread across the horizon. My mind traveled a bit, and I thought of Andrew. I needed to stop it. I’ll probably never see him again. Damn, but he looked good.

  “Are you listening?” Eleanor stood with her hands on hips, tapping her foot in irritation.

  I was grateful for the distraction. I needed to think about something else.

  “Have you heard they have a back door store in town?”

  I snapped my head up. “Back door store?”

  “It’s a bikini shop that has certain adult products in a secret back room.”

  “Who told you that?”

  She chuckled. “I overheard it is all.” She coughed. “It’s not like I ever been there before,” she answered quickly, maybe a little too fast for it to be true. She’d been there all right, but why is she mentioning it?

  “Is that supposed to mean anything or are you suggesting we make a trip over there?”

  Eleanor nodded. “Oh come on Aggie don’t be so old-fashioned.” Yawning. “We’ll have to wait until tomorrow though. I’m bushed.”

  “Okay, we’ll go there tomorrow.”

  “You promise.”

  “I promise.”

  I walked inside, grabbed my purse and headed out the door and back home.

  It felt good to be home, and all I thought about was taking a long, hot bath.

  Making my way into the bathroom, I turned on the water and tossed in some bath beads. I’d risk the UTI. I then retrieved the phone. I mean what in the hell would happen if I fell in the bathtub and couldn't get out. It would be mighty embarrassing – for the paramedics.