I gasped. I couldn’t help it. I was shocked. Why in the world did the aide get that close to him if he’s that angry? Are they teaching stupid around here?
The trio turned toward us, and I feared for a moment that he’d turn his anger on us but he didn’t. Instead, he smiled.
“Hello ladies, are you here to visit me?”
I pushed Eleanor forward.
“Ahhh... yes, but it looks like, well you’re in the middle of dinner,” Eleanor said.
“They just don’t have what I like to eat.”
The nurse and red faced aide had scrambled from the room as we'd walked inside.
I turned and closed the door. It might not be a wise choice, but I didn’t want anyone interrupting us.
“Hi, I’m Agnes and this is Eleanor.”
“I called for hookers last week. What took you so long?”
Hal Peterson didn’t look a bit like his son. His toothless mouth swung open, and he started licking his lips. His nearly bald head accentuated a scar over his right eye.
“I’d like to ask you a few questions,” I said.
“How about one of you asks questions while the other licks my Willie.”
I could taste bile. “If you whip it out, Hal, it’ll be the last time you’ll see it.” I pulled out an ink pen and smacked my hand with it, creating a sting and loud sound.
He sat down. Those aides just needed to show this man they meant business. I knew they dared not speak too harshly to him, if they uttered anything but a normal voice to him, they’d be fired.
“What do you remember about Mrs. Robinson?”
“Mrs. Who?”
Robinson, the lady who was killed along with her entire family?” I pressed.
He gave it a long moment's thought then said, “Ahhh, yeah, sweet lady and a married woman, but man did she like to romp around with young men. I think they wrote a song about her.”
“I’m talking about the Mrs. Robinson that was raped and murdered back in 1968.”
“And her whole family slaughtered,” Eleanor added.
He rubbed the whiskers of his chin. He needed a shave, and from the smell, a bath.
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating here, but I knew her. I won’t lie.” He stood whipped out his penis and pissed in a metal trash can.
I didn’t react. I refused to! Because that’s what he wanted.
“What other tricks can you do?” Eleanor asked.
“Eleanor, now that would be hard to top,” I added.
“Who are you again?” he asked. “And why in the hell're you asking questions about the Robinson case?”
I pressed for more information. “Did you like her?”
“I can’t say I thought much of her. I saw her naked once though, but she was dead at the time. Not much time for fornicating then.”
“So you wanted to do her?”
“I was the Sheriff at the time you know, like my boy now. A lot like him in fact. As to Mrs. Robins – “
“Robinson, sir.”
“Yeah, Robinson... I can’t say I had more contact with her other than a nod or two.”
“What was she like?”
“She liked to flaunt her ass and perky tits all over East Tawas, but that’s all. I never knew of anyone that got into her bloomers, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Did you have any suspects?”
“No, except the handyman, but I couldn’t imagine Billy doing something like that.”
“I heard he didn’t much like women. Is that true?”
“Not sure, but there were many men that wanted to be with Mrs. Robinson. What with the way she was strutting around, it could be anybody.”
“That isn’t an excuse to rape a woman,” Eleanor said.
“Maybe not but being a tease isn’t a smart move. She let a few men cop a feel and then wouldn’t see it through.”
“Can you remember the names of any of the men?”
“Maxwell Nobel was one.”
“I heard your name mentioned.”
“Probably did, folks weren’t happy with the investigation. I did my best, but I just couldn’t find any leads.”
“I see.”
I twirled around when I heard the door pop open and saw Sheriff Peterson’s frame fill the doorway.
“What in the hell are you two doing here?” He bellowed, his face red as a beet.
“I’m here visiting your dad is all.”
“Is that it, Pops?”
Hal hung his head.
“Are they harassing you about the Robinson case?”
He nodded without looking up.
“You two come along now,” Sheriff Peterson said.
The sheriff escorted us from the building, causing a stir among some of the residents and nurses. Once there, he turned on us. “You two are under arrest.”
I stood with my mouth agape, and I gasped. “You have to be kidding?”
“No, I assure you, I’m quite serious.”
He read us our Miranda rights, and Eleanor looked at me with shock.
“Are you gonna frisk us?” Eleanor asked. “Because it’s been a real long time since a man has touched me.” She smirked. “I think I’d like that.”
I was glad we left our handguns in the Lexus. Plus a nursing home was hardly a place to take a pistol, and I believed it illegal even with a concealed gun permit.
“Did you drive here?” he asked once we were in the glare of the sunlight.
“Nope, we walked,” I said. I didn’t want to see Andrew’s Lexus impounded.
We put our hands on the car, and the sheriff frisked us. “Hold your hands out. I know you two are old and feeble, so I’ll cuff you from the front.”
As he slapped the cuffs on us, I repeated for the hundredth time, “What in the hell are you arresting us for? What are the charges?”
“Trespassing.”
“I’ll have you know this is a public place.”
“Melanie Paxton called 911 and reported a disturbance in my dad’s room.”
“Bull,” Eleanor spat. “That happened before we showed up.”
I hoped he would come to his senses, but after he led us to the car and the door closed behind us, I knew he had no intention of letting us off the hook.
“I’ve never been to jail. This is exciting,” Eleanor said.
“Yeah, as exciting as a cold sore.” I mumbled under my breath and cursed the sheriff. I knew he had to be hiding something. My head began to pound, and I felt my blood pressure rising, but couldn't get at my pills with my hands bound by cuffs.
Peterson pulled from the curb, and made his way toward his department, fully prepared to book us. I shouted in his ear from the caged back seat. “I can't see these charges sticking, Sheriff.”
“I'll make 'em stick! I do have some influence.”
“You're obviously just trying to scare me in hopes I'll stop investigating.”
“For your own good, yes!”
“Bull hockey!” cried Eleanor.
“She's right; you could give a damn about us, and if you think for one moment that I was determined before, then watch out – “
He reached over his shoulder and shoved closed the small space through which we communicated, effectively cutting off another word.
Chapter Thirty
We arrived at the county jail in handcuffs a few minutes later. Sheriff Peterson helped us out of the car. We made him put his back into it too, not exactly resisting the process, just acting as feeble as he pegged us. I smiled when I heard him groan – that’s what he gets. If he insists on treating us as feeble, I'll act the part.
We walked in, and he quickly and urgently shuffled us into the back. What would people think when they found out the sheriff had arrested two such hardened criminals?
They took our fingerprints, which took awhile because we weren’t cooperating, and Eleanor stuck her tongue out during her mug shot.
Sheriff Peterson led us to a small room where a female deputy looked
less than happy to see us. The small brick room had a bench along one wall and cubby holes that I guessed we’d be using temporarily to put our clothing into.
“Are they under arrest?” the blond deputy asked. She looked to be twenty-one and had a shocked look on her face. She gulped like something unpleasant was about to go down. She hardly looked the type to be in this line of work, but who was I to judge.
“Yes.” Sheriff Peterson smirked when he walked out of the room.
She tightened her ponytail. I supposed her to be a tad nervous. “I’m sorry... oh, my... I need you to remove your clothing, so I can search you.”
“Sure thing,” Eleanor said. She pulled her clothing off like she was doing a strip tease while I removed mine in a corner.
The body cavity search was just as I expected, intrusive. I felt sorry for the deputy. She was only doing her job, and now she’d surely have nightmares for at least a month.
We redressed and followed her to a cell with a sliding barred door that she opened. When we walked in, I realized it was a holding cell because we weren’t alone. Two rather odd-looking women sat inside. One had muscular arms and a buzz cut, and the other, a skinny blond with stringy hair. The blond looked scared out of her mind and was leaning her head on the older woman. Obviously they knew each other.
The cell consisted of an iron bench affixed to the wall with bolts and a small metal object that seemed too small for either of our asses. I guessed it to be the toilet. Inwardly I cringed.
“What're you two in here for,” Eleanor asked the large woman.
The woman belched. “I drank a little too much, and they picked me up for nothing really.”
“It didn’t have a thing to do with the man she threw through a plate glass window,” the skinny woman added.
It sounded like a non-admission of guilt.
“You’re lucky I did too. That man who was soliciting you was a creep. For all you know, if'n you'd gone off with him, your throat'd be cut now!”
“He was gonna pay me fifty bucks, Mama!”
“Darlene! He tried luring you down the dark alley, you dumb ass.”
“Stop calling me that, Mama. He looked clean and spoke with an Italian accent. He said he’d buy me new clothes.”
“Sure and pigs fly.”
“They do fly when they walk through a combine,” Eleanor said.
I shook my head. Why is El talking to these women? Who knows who they are or what they may do to us. “Eleanor, would you just please leave these poor women alone?”
“What do you mean 'these poor women' grandma?”
“Damn Agnes, shut up, you want them to shank us?” Eleanor whispered. She turned to the large woman. “I know she’s uptight, but ever since the fuzz started finding bones in her backyard, she hasn’t been the same. Damn rats we have around these parts.”
“I can second that, my friend,” the large woman said. “I’m Marge, and this is my daughter Darlene. We’re from Detroit and here on vacation.”
“Marge, did you say someone tried to lure your daughter away?” I asked.
“I’m afraid my girl is a bit touched in the head, and I have to watch her all the time.”
“I am not.” Darlene folded her arms and distanced herself from her mother.
“You are the most gullible girl I know. You can’t just leave with the first man that asks you.”
Darlene sat and pouted, and I turned my attention to Marge. “You have to watch out. My granddaughter disappeared last year, and I’m searching for another tourist who has recently gone missing.”
“Jennifer Martin,” Eleanor added.
“That’s what the cops are for, isn't it? Missing Persons cases and all?” Marge asked.
“Huh, this Podunk Sheriff's Department? They never even tried finding my granddaughter. I’m thinking the same person could have them both.”
“If it’s been a year... most likely she’s long gone.” Marge tried for all her bulk to look sympathetic.
“You said the man... was Italian.”
“Yes, he’s here with three friends, but one of them was recently shot and killed.”
I nodded. “I saw that on the news, yes, very recently. Shot by a homeowner during a home invasion. Got what he deserved.”
I felt sick. I knew there was a connection, but I couldn’t do a damn thing about it, being locked in cold storage. I banged on the cell. “Hello! Where’s my phone call? I get a phone call.”
The other three women looked at me as if I’d taken leave of my senses. Eleanor fell to the floor. “Oh, God, I think I’m having a heart attack.”
I began to pant. “OMG, I can’t breathe. I’m having an asthma attack!” I shouted to add to the bedlam.
The young deputy ran and opened the door. Checking Eleanor’s pulse, she tried to reassure El, saying, “Calm down, it’s going to be okay.”
The door swung open, and Sheriff Peterson walked in. “Couple of drama queens if you ask me.”
“We can’t take chances. What if one or the other were to die in our custody, Sheriff?” the deputy asked.
Peterson smiled at this. “My job would be so much easier if only... “
Gasps echoed around the room.
“How can you say that? I’m calling 911,” the deputy insisted.
The ambulance showed up minutes later, and Trooper Sales walked in with the attendants.
“What in the hell is going on here?” He narrowed his eyes and glared at Sheriff Peterson. “What kind of jail are you running here?”
“I placed them under arrest.”
“What in hell for?”
“Trespassing?”
Here we go again. At this point I felt a real attack coming on, a panic attack.
“Where?”
“County Medical Center.”
“Did someone call in a complaint about them?”
“Melanie Paxton called 911 about a commotion. They were harassing my dad.”
“From what I hear, your father causes a commotion there every day! Asking him questions does not constitute harassment. I’d like to ask him a few questions myself.”
“This is my jail, and you can’t just come in here interfering or telling me how to do my job.”
“You will drop these bogus charges now, or I’ll be on the phone to the governor.”
Peterson's eyes narrowed to slits. “Fine, but you’ll regret this.”
Trooper Sales, not one to be intimidated, replied, “I only see an out of control Sheriff with a motive that looks a bit questionable at the moment.”
“Who do you think you're talking to, state boy?”
“You have done nothing but get in the way since the Martin girl went missing. Are you protecting someone?”
I stood. “Do you know this girl in the cell was being led away by one of those goons who've been shooting up the town?”
“Goons?” Echoed in the room.
“I bet it was one of them from Roy’s bait shop,” Eleanor said. With the deputy's help, El stood.
“Oh, what a miraculous recovery,” Sheriff Peterson said, rolling his eyes.
“Is that true?” Trooper Sales asked Darlene and Marge.
“Yes, I guess so.” replied Darlene. “I mean a man asked me to come with him.”
“He promised my daughter money, fifty bucks, and new clothes,” Marge said. “But I didn't like his manners or his looks, so I tossed his ass through a window, and then the Sheriff here arrested us instead of him!”
“Where did he go?” I asked. “If the sheriff arrested you, he had to have a victim, right?”
“He gave me his information,” the sheriff said. “Everyone get out of the cell. I’m dropping all the charges. I see I made a grave error, which I wouldn’t be doing if Agnes would butt out of this case.”
We all followed the sheriff to the front and waited while he shuffled through his paper work. “Michael Cicero. That's the name he gave.”
“Did you take him to the hospital?”
�
�He went by ambulance, so I can’t say for sure if he’s there.”
“How bad were his injuries?”
“He was bleeding from the head pretty badly, actually.”
“Head wounds are good for that,” said Sales.
“Let's hope he’s still there,” I said.
I walked out the door, but forgot that Andrew’s Lexus was still at the medical center. My goose was cooked. By the time I got to the hospital he'd be long gone.
“You want a lift to the hospital?” Trooper Sales asked.
I nodded. “Please.”
We sat in the back of his car, and I could barely contain my excitement. Finally, after all this time a lead, a real lead.
Arriving at the hospital, we went inside, and Trooper Sales asked the woman at admitting if a man named Michael Cicero was there. She led us to the room, but the bed was empty. How in the hell had we missed him?
I darted into the hallway and saw a man running away in a hospital gown. I pursued him outside, but he ran across US 23. Before I could do much besides watch, a huge Mac truck barreled toward him. The squealing of breaks sounded like a banshee wail, followed by a horrible crunching tthhumpity-thump! Unfortunately, the truck had struck the goon, instantly sending Michael Cicero's body sailing through the air like a rag doll. His corpse landed two feet in front of me.
I felt sick. I finally had a lead and it landed dead at my feet. What hope remained now that I'd ever find Jennifer Martin alive?
Chapter Thirty-One
I stood and watched the bubble lights that had nothing to do with Christmas. I turned and shrugged when Trooper Sales walked toward me.
In my most subdued tone.” I shakily said, “I-I had no idea he’d run across US 23 like that. Not too smart.”
“That’s two goons gone, and two to go, and both are connected to you,” he added. “Not that I'm placing blame here, just saying.”
“Ewwww, it’s gonna have to be a closed casket,” Eleanor said, “because there is no way they’ll ever be able to put him back together again.”
I snapped a look at Eleanor. “Please, a man's just died.”
Armed and Outrageous (An Agnes Barton Mystery) Page 20