Armed and Outrageous (An Agnes Barton Mystery)

by Johns, Madison

  “I think I’ll keep your pistol license and your gun, Eleanor, until you can pass this safety course,” Trooper Sales said.

  Eleanor pouted and looked to me for support and pity from Andrew, none of which she got. All this before she stuck her tongue out at Sales. She stepped forward and loaded her gun with the last of her bullets for one last try. This time she not only hit the target, but all five bullets hit the mark. I wouldn’t say with the best precision, but after three tries, she finally proved that not only could she shoot, but that her smoking aim could find her target, and in the bargain she'd only killed one seagull, leaving the rest of us alive even if shaken.

  “I told you I could shoot,” Eleanor said. “I was just nervous.”

  “Perfectly understandable, dear, under the circumstances,” I reassured her, nodding toward the men. Having Andrew and a state trooper looking on might make anyone nervous. And now it was my turn.

  I loaded my gun and lifted it up, closed one eye with menacing intent, and cracked off my rounds and hit the target.

  “Showoff,” Eleanor said.

  “My husband Tom taught me to shoot when we were first married.”

  “Smart man,” Andrew said. “I’m not so sure I’d give my wife a weapon.”

  “And why not?” I asked, staring intently for an answer.

  “Afraid she'd use it against me!” He slapped Sales on the back and the two men laughed as if that were funny.

  Andrew added, “I happened to have had a somewhat, ahhh – “

  “My Tom was a real good guy, model husband, got it.” As soon as I cut Andrew off, I was angry at myself; he was about to reveal something about his relationship with his wife, and I had stupidly interrupted.

  I cocked my head and watched Andrew walk away. What in the hell had gotten into him?

  Eleanor and I signed the paperwork for the license, and Eleanor scoffed a bit when he told her that it would take forty-five days for the permit to clear. He told us the Sheriff’s Department already had our fingerprints on file. “Which will facilitate things a good deal,” he ended.

  “Facilitate? Facilitate – how very efficient of them!” Eleanor fumed and stalked off.

  I was busy trying to recall how they had our fingerprints on file – the two of us. Then I recalled it might have something to do with volunteering at a local school. Nowadays, anyone coming into contact with children or working in healthcare was mandated to have a background check, which included fingerprints.

  “Thanks, Trooper Sales, for caring enough to come down here and taking time with two old broads.”

  He nodded. “I’m officially off duty the rest of the day, you can call me Bill.”

  I shook his hand. “Thanks, Bill.”

  “Just you two be careful and don't forget our pact, Agnes.”

  With that, I rushed to catch up to Eleanor and the brooding Andrew. I feared I had bruised him more deeply that I knew.

  Chapter Sixteen

  All things considered, the shooting range went fairly well. It was always a great day when I wasn't shot by a spare bullet. Eleanor even managed to hit the target. Perhaps now I could stop worrying about her carrying a pistol in that monstrosity she calls a purse.

  We made our way from the driving range toward Andrew's LX where Eleanor and I climbed in and waited for Andrew to say something. He turned and stared at me, his eyes warm and inviting like a blanket on a cold night.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Sure, why?”

  “Me too.” He turned and tore out of the drive.

  I sat there wondering what was bothering him. He went from Mr. Nice Guy to a stranger in a matter of minutes and back again, all without an explanation. I needed to think. What do I know about Andrew? I hadn’t seen him in twenty years, and he could well have changed. I needed to remember that; I needed to keep my guard up. I didn't need to get blind-sided or hurt. In the disappearance of this young girl, no one was above suspicion, not even Andrew. Then again, I wondered, what kind of a way is that to live? Trusting no one. At times, I felt like a character in Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men for being so naturally suspicious.

  I saw the trees flash by my window and enjoyed the refreshing blast of the air-conditioning. The sound of Eleanor and Andrew talking in what I thought were hushed tones in the background lulled me into closing my eyes and meditating. There were days I couldn't hear well, while on other days, the sound of my hair scratching across my pillow kept me awake all night.

  My mind was simply elsewhere at that moment. All I could think about was finding Jennifer’s mother. Who could I ask and why would they tell me anything?

  I rubbed my head as it started to pound. I needed a pill of some sort, but my mouth already felt stuffed with cotton, and when I saw where Andrew turned, I knew it would only get worse.

  The white farmhouse was known to me and about every other person in the state. Andrew stopped his LX, and we piled out without prompting or thought. I noticed three other cars in the drive and didn’t have to guess why they were here, although I did wonder why we were.

  The washed-out siding of the farmhouse with dirty windows greeted us with overgrown rose bushes. I had the urge to find some pruning sheers this fall and trim the bushes myself.

  We followed the dirt drive into the backyard and joined the circle of seniors that were sitting in lawn chairs. Rosa Lee Hill sat in her chair, casual, dressed in a mustard Tee and brown crop pants, her thin, yet straight brown hair hanging down. Her lawn chair had seen better days, but it was by now perfectly molded to her body. It might be because she spent so much time outside in it rolling fatties.

  When I say fatties, I’m talking Mary Jane, marijuana, and funky flower! You didn’t have to smoke anything. The contact buzz alone would knock you on your ass.

  Andrew gave her a hug. He’d been here before. No surprise there. As I watched the fatty being passed, I saw Jack Winston sitting with yet another twenty-something. He was smoking a hookah filled with marijuana. Everywhere I looked, marijuana.

  I nudged Eleanor. “Look, your boyfriend Jack is here.”

  Eleanor gasped. “Not even on a bad day would I go near the likes of him.”

  “Seems like he has a steady supply of young women to traipse around with.”

  Eleanor added, “Yeah, does he own a Hooter's or something?”

  It was no surprise Jack would be here. Jack and Rosa Lee Hill go way back. I think at one point she had rented him a room when he left his wife back in the day, or so Eleanor told me.

  We walked past him, hoping to avoid another battle of words with him as we had at Roy's Bait & Tackle the other day.

  I smiled at Rosa Lee. She was one of the most laid back women I had ever met, and now I know why. None of these people needed to smoke for medicinal purposes that I knew of.

  I wanted to leave because the last thing I needed was to be here if she got busted. Goodbye concealed pistol license, goodbye PI license. It wouldn’t be worth it.

  I ignored most of the crowd, focusing all my attention on Rosa Lee. I waved at her and smiled briefly. “I was wondering if you knew about anyone who might've moved here to Tawas, say about ten years ago? Possibly by the name of Stella. I think Roy may have – “

  Rounding the grill, “Oh my god, Agnes, I told you just drop this,” Roy sternly said through gnashed teeth.

  “I can’t,” I said.

  “Do you realize what’s at stake here?”

  “I know. Believe me, I know.” I looked around. “We were shot at yesterday at Walmart.”

  Gasps split the air from the group.

  “The goons are on to you then?” Roy asked.

  “They’re trying to scare me off, and if there’s something you can’t do, it's scare me off.”

  “It always has to be your way, doesn't it?” Roy sneered. “Agnes Barton's way.”

  “Well look, Roy – “

  “Isn't that just the way it is?” he continued to sneer.

  “Yup.”

 
; “No matter what happens or who gets hurt?”

  “Oh Roy, I don’t have a choice. I need to find Jennifer before the goons get her.”

  His eyes became round saucers, and the whites of his eyes filled with bulging blood vessels. “Who says the goons want her?”

  “Why else are they here in Tawas?”

  Roy rubbed his hand over his face, making a loud noise as sweat popped out of his pores. “I don’t know, but I’m not giving up Stella, I tell you that.”

  I pointed my finger in his face. “I wasn’t asking you.”

  “Come on you two, lighten up,” Rosa Lee said. Her eyes were dilated, and she had one of those smiles you couldn't help but recognize as the happy results of drugs at play in her head.

  I sat, waited, and watched a fatty passed to Andrew who took a toke, and promptly began coughing and sputtering.

  “Oh city boy! Can’t hack the good stuff, eh?” I teased.

  He handed it to me. “No, I don’t want any.” My jaw tightened and felt locked. I rubbed it to loosen it up.

  “Over here, Andrew,” Eleanor leapt in. “I’ll take it.”

  “You can’t,” I protested.

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because we’re on duty.”

  “On duty. Are you joshing me? I don’t see any damn time clock.”

  I wanted to shout out the list of reasons why it was a bad idea, but I didn't want to give her the satisfaction; I just wished that my partner in crime would straighten up. “You wanted to help. You said you did, and I'm the boss.”

  Eleanor’s lips twisted into a snarl, as she walked toward the grill.

  A picnic table next to the grill was piled with paper plates and every salad imaginable complete with potato chips, and on the grill, hot dogs and hamburgers were smoldering to perfection, the aroma so wonderful as to enchant the squirrels in the trees all around.

  Manning the grill, Roy filled Eleanor's plate with hotdogs placed neatly into buns. Andrew followed suit and loaded a plate. They sat and munched as I waited for Rosa Lee to respond to my questions.

  “Oh Agnes, I know you don’t expect me to remember someone that I may've met from ten years ago. Heavens, I have trouble remembering this morning.”

  I frowned. I had no idea where to go from here. I should have known that Andrew had brought us to the wrong place.

  “Eleanor, is that a roach?” Jack Winston asked. Holding a hookah between his legs like it was an extension of himself, as the twenty-something girl next to him giggled.

  She flung her plate up, and food flew into the air barely missing Andrew, and Eleanor started running around. “Where’s the roach? I don’t see any damn roach.”

  No one made a move as if seeing food flying and old women screaming happened every day.

  Eleanor walked over to Jack, “Hi Jack,” she purred. “I didn’t see you over here.”

  He rolled his eyes upward. They were bloodshot and bulging like a bullfrog in ill health.

  I sat back on a lawn chair. This might just loosen up the crowd enough to get them to start talking.

  “Well now, Jack, who's your new friend?” Eleanor asked, eyeing the woman up and down like the stripper she may be.

  “This is Stacy,” he glanced toward his companion. “Stacy, this is tuna lady.” He began to laugh, not realizing how close Eleanor was to him.

  “And this is Jack falling down.” Eleanor said. She pushed the top of his lawn chair, and he toppled over the back.

  It rather resembled a somersault.

  “Oh my, oh my, watch Jack do a flip. Oh, watch Jack get so mad. Look and see him be so mad,” Eleanor began to taunt him.

  Jack was tangled in the lawn chair, and somehow it had shut with him inside. His face turned bright red, and I could almost see smoke rise from his ears.

  I glanced at Andrew. “Don’t just stand there, help him before he turns purple.”

  “I’m not sure that will be safe for Eleanor.”

  “You don’t look so damn smug now, do you?” Eleanor said. She looked down and found a small medicine bottle and snatched it up, shoving it into her pocket.

  Jack disentangled himself from the chair and tried to stand, yelling. “Oh God, will somebody help me get up?”

  I whistled and thought, no not me.

  “Let me guess, you have fallen and can’t get up,” Eleanor continued to harass the man.

  “Old Biddy.”

  “Old Rooster!”

  “When I get up... “

  “You won’t be doing that tonight,” she hinted.

  Rosa Lee laughed so hard tears fell from her eyes. What a sight, a lawn full of laughing seniors who didn’t seem to mind so much that they were on the ground.

  I yanked Eleanor's arm and shoved her toward Andrew’s LX. Pushing her inside, I jumped in too.

  “What in the hell are you trying to do, Eleanor? Kill him?”

  “Nope, but it was finally nice to get back at him.”

  I rolled my eyes as she snickered.

  “He’s not going to have a very good night tonight.”

  I flashed her a look. “What did you do?”

  “Oh nothing... “ She jiggled a bottle of pills.

  “What is that?”

  “His Viagra.”

  My jaw dropped open. “His Viagra.”

  “I could use that myself,” Andrew said. He turned and winked.

  I glanced out the window, and saw Jack running toward us. I couldn't speak, but my face did.

  “What are you looking at?” Andrew asked.

  He turned and saw Jack lunge for Eleanor’s door. Andrew pounded his foot on the gas pedal, and we were off and away from the enraged man. I knew this wasn’t over by a long shot.

  Eleanor laughed.

  “It’s not funny, Eleanor. He’s going to kill you the next time he sees you.”

  “I’d like to see him try. I’d give him a one-two-three kick and bring him to his knees.”

  As if it would be that easy. I had seen that man in action before, and he was strong as an ox. Eleanor didn’t have a clue what he may be capable of or what he might do to her.

  Roy was waiting in Eleanor’s driveway when we arrived, and I jumped out of the LX. How Roy slipped away and gotten ahead of us, I don't know, but here he stood with a sad look on his face. In addition, the man was white as a ghost, his usual ruddy complexion absent.

  “Aggie, I went to check on Stella, but she’s gone.” He began to sob.

  I tilted my head sideways. “What do you mean gone?”

  “Follow me and I’ll show you.”

  We piled back into the LX as Roy directed us up US 23 and down a pathway that led to an old cabin deep in the woods. It looked dark, even the sun had trouble breaking through the canopy of leaves.

  Roy leapt from the vehicle, and we were hard pressed to catch up to him. When we made our way around back, we spotted a woman’s nude body on the ground. Her red hair cascaded around her body, making her look like a broken doll. She wasn’t young, forties perhaps. Her red hair almost concealed the blood that matted her hair to her head like a helmet, a bloody claw hammer lay next to her body.

  Her torn clothes were also next to her, and all I could think about was the Robinson murders all those years ago. This didn’t speak to me of the goons or William Martin, although he may be responsible. I wasn't about to rule anyone out yet, not yet.

  She looked familiar, and I couldn't help but think that I knew her from somewhere. I could remember what my favorite toy was as a child, but remembering what I just did or with whom – this proved sometimes impossible. More times than I could remember I would simply forget something, but not remember what it was I'd forgotten! Usually and eventually, I could remember what it was; it just took me awhile before I did. Another of the things that baffle me or outright perplex me, if there is a book on aging – they forgot to give me a copy.

  Andrew called 911 while I huddled close to Eleanor. Poor dear looked scared half to death. I so wanted to
dig around the scene, take pictures even, but I certainly would've hated to disrupt the crime scene. Finding Stella's body automatically complicated matters.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I kneaded my hands together, trying to body block the sight of Stella's body from Eleanor's startled eyes. She quivered involuntarily every few minutes.

  “Keep it together EL. We-We'll be out of here soon,” I assured her.

  She bobbed her head, her version of a nod.

  I heard state police cruisers blaze up the path with sirens blaring. The sea of faces that were suddenly upon us were not entirely unfamiliar to me. I saw tense determined people on the edge. They came from the surrounding counties, including Saginaw, where I once lived. As a result, I knew most of them.

  We stayed where we stood, not wanting to damage the crime scene further. Roy cried, and Eleanor’s eyes were cast to the ground. Even Andrew’s face appeared ashen. This wasn’t old potatoes for any of us. I’m damn sure none of us had ever seen a dead body before, not outside a funeral home that is.

  Even so, as hard as it was to do so, I tried to memorize the scene.

  I took in the cabin behind the body, more of a shack, its door hanging by one hinge. Obviously, a struggle had transpired. Trash was strewn across the back, and I wrinkled my nose because it smelled of uncooked meat left in the sun over a goodly amount of time.

  Dressed in plain clothes, Trooper Sales walked onto the murder scene. That’s the type of trooper he was, even on his day off he had shown up, but murders don’t happen every day or at all around these parts.

  His eyes met mine as he walked toward me.

  “Tell me none of you touched the body.”

  “Of course not. We watch Criminal Minds,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. Sales glared at me which prompted, “We know better than that. Look, Roy here was waiting for us when we returned to Eleanor’s house, and told us something bad had happened to Stella,” I said.

  Roy cried. “Stella, my poor baby. You can’t tell my wife. Swear to me you won’t.”

  Trooper Sales glanced into Roy’s eyes. “I can’t promise you anything, Roy, you know that. Your baby?”