Armed and Outrageous (An Agnes Barton Mystery)

by Johns, Madison

  I rolled out of bed, and peered down the hall. I ran down the hallway, hit the stairwell, and I next descended the stairs in record time. When I made it to the ground floor, I saw Andrew waiting outside with his Lexus running. I walked calmly out the front door, jumped inside the LX, and ducked down.

  “What took you so long?” he asked.

  “I didn’t think the sitter would ever go to sleep.” I grinned.

  “She fell asleep?”

  “Yup, and I hope she comes up with a convincing story about how I slipped out. I’d hate for anyone to lose a job.”

  “If you truly felt that way dear, you'd have stayed 'til morning.”

  “Drive to Eleanor’s before they call in the swat team.”

  “No offense dear, but I hardly think you’re swat material.”

  I gasped. “You don’t think I’m dangerous.”

  “Oh, you’re dangerous all right, but only in the naked kind of way. I have to admit you have quite the appetite for a woman your age.”

  “Just drive.”

  Andrew drove toward Eleanor’s house passing a deputy’s car. “I told you so.”

  “You are a hardened criminal. I heard walking around half ass naked is a crime at your age.” He added. “Stealing a hospital gown may be a capital offense.”

  “Remind me again why you came to the hospital? What? There’s nobody to harass at the manor?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Andrew turned sharply into Eleanor’s drive, and I tried to exit the Lexus without flashing anything too important. He saw it all before, but the hospital gown made me feel a great deal less than sexy. I pulled the thin gown around me, making my way toward the door, but a breeze blew the gown up just as Eleanor swung the door open.

  “Now that’s what I call a hello,” Eleanor said.

  I yanked the hospital gown down, trying to regain my composure. I felt so glad to see her here at her doorstep and not trying to scamper after a goon in some sort of Clint Eastwood vengeance is mine endeavor.

  Eleanor shot me a look. “Where're your clothes?”

  I shrugged. “Hospital, waste bin, I imagine; they love cutting your clothing off there.”

  “You make it sound like a place I’d like to go.” She giggled, making snorting noises.

  I rolled my eyes. “You wouldn’t say that if you were held prisoner there! Not allowed to leave.”

  “I’d pop one of 'em in the mouth.”

  Visions of Eleanor in shackles made me smile. “They sent up a security guard and a sitter.”

  “Sitter? Like baby sitter?”

  “You know one of those people that come into your room to watch you... make sure you stay put.”

  “A guard's more like it,” commented Andrew who'd come in behind me and had parked himself in an easy chair.

  Eleanor leaned forward her eyes dancing. “Oh my, so what did you do?”

  “She just loves a good story, doesn't she?” I asked Andrew, and turned back to Eleanor. “I waited until my sitter fell asleep. That's how boring I can be; bored her right to sleep.”

  “Oh, my, that won't bode well for her job.” She snickered. “So you flew the coop then?”

  “Yes.” I groaned, and scanned the kitchen, eyeing an apple pie.

  “This is great, now you’re a fugitive.” El clapped her hands. “Do you think they’ll send the cops to look for you?”

  “I hope not.”

  I yanked open a cupboard, and pulled a plate out and scooped up a generous slice of apple pie. Shoving it into my mouth like I hadn’t eaten in a week, I parked myself at the dining room table.

  “How long was I out?” I asked, between mouthfuls.

  “Two days,” Eleanor said.

  “Two long days,” Andrew added. “You better slow down. If you get sick, I’ll have to take you back to the hospital in time for your guard to wake up to redeem her job with dignity.” He winked, and I threw him a challenging glance.

  “Excuse me, but I have been through a horrible ordeal. Someone tosses a firebomb through my window and sets my house on fire! All I could do was lie there in my garden and watch everything I own go up in flames. Things I can’t replace... like-like my wedding pictures.”

  “I’m sorry about your memorable items, but at least you weren’t in the house,” Eleanor consoled with her words and hands on my shoulders. “You’re the only friend I have.”

  “You could make more friends, Eleanor.”

  “Not at my age; besides, folks don’t much like me.” She came around to face me, sitting close. I could sense that she remained shaken at my new set of harrowing circumstances.

  “You shoot your mouth off too much,” I finally suggested with a smile.

  “I say it like it is.”

  “Sometimes people can’t handle the truth!” Andrew added from his perch on the chair in the other room.

  “That man has the best pair of ears,” I whispered.

  “I heard that!” Andrew shouted.

  Meanwhile, Eleanor had ducked her head down, and I felt badly for being so hard on her. “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay, you’re right.” She sniffled. “Where do you plan to stay now?”

  I hadn’t thought about it. Where would I stay? “I’m not sure yet. I do have a camper in storage.” I shrugged. “Could get the ol' Winnebego plugged into what's left of the plumbing and electrical.”

  “Are you flippin’ kidding?” El burst out. “You’re planning to sleep in a camper?”

  “Like hell you are!” shouted Andrew, who'd shot to the dining room on hearing this. “There is no way you’re sleeping in any camper until we find out who’s responsible for firebombing your house.”

  “Is he kidding?” I asked El before I turned on Andrew. “Did you tell me what to do? I’ll do just as I please Mr. Hotshot Lawyer, and you can’t stop me.”

  “They have crime scene tape across your drive, and you won’t be allowed anywhere near until the investigation is done.”

  I slumped my shoulders. I hated that he so sucked the wind out of my sails with his lawyerly pragmatic stance, which was so damnably reasonable. “I have to get Duchess.”

  Andrew and Eleanor laughed at this.

  “Whatttttt?” I asked.

  “You’re going to have to extricate her from the trooper’s house,” she replied.

  “Trooper Sales has birds, and the last I heard Duchess was having the time of her life,” Andrew added.

  “He won’t feel that way when she eats one of them.”

  “She better have improved her skills from the last time I saw her trying to have a go at it.”

  “She can’t even catch a mouse,” Eleanor added.

  “Yes, she can.” I defended poor Duchess. “She just doesn’t choose to kill them.”

  The apple pie having disappeared, I walked out to the deck and watched the sunrise. It looked to be a beautiful day brewing, but maybe not for me because I didn’t have any clothes to wear. Eleanor didn’t have anything my size either.

  I sat back on a lawn chair and closed my eyes. Sometime later, I felt a blanket cover me. I breathed deep of Andrew’s scent and hoped I hadn’t made a mistake by pushing him away. It would be a mistake I’d live to regret, if I made it through the week.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I woke up and noticed a neatly folded pile of clothing lying on the table next to me. I struggled to stand like I always did in the mornings, and felt stiff and sore in more places than usual. It'd teach me to fall asleep on a lawn chair.

  I slid into the house and jerked on the clothing, a blue matching Capri set with tiny flowers embroidered near the hemline. It felt nice to have a bra and underwear on, and everything fit. I wondered how Andrew knew my size; maybe he had an eye for things of that nature. I wandered into the kitchen and made coffee that smelled of cinnamon. I wondered if he had gone or stayed?

  As I made my way to the front door, I spied Andrew standing just outside, animatedly talking to Dr. Thomas.
>
  Oh shit, I’m busted.

  I opened the door, and let Dr. Thomas inside followed by Andrew. Dr. Thomas’ hands shook, and for once, I saw him in a different light.

  “Agnes, the next time you are in the hospital wait until I release you. You really caused quite an uproar this morning.”

  I bit my lower lip. “I’m sorry about all that, but I did ask them to call you.”

  He dropped a bag onto the table. “I think these are all the medications you lost in the fire.” He grinned. “Rosa Lee Hill is doing a fundraiser to help out.”

  I could well imagine what kind of fundraiser she’d have.

  “Thanks, and it won’t happen again, I promise.”

  “Not only do I not want to see you in the hospital again, I don’t think they do either.”

  He left. I should feel badly about the ruckus, but I snickered.

  “The fundraiser is today,” Andrew said. “We are so going.”

  I gazed at him with the best scowl I could muster. “Fine talk from a former lawyer.”

  We waited for Eleanor to dress for the fundraiser. How could I not attend? It was for me. All I had to do was slide into brown sandals, which miraculously fit. Andrew really was a rare man as he understood the feminine needs in great detail.

  Eleanor managed a feat of amazement by squeezing into purple leggings and a white shirt with a sparkling array of sequins in the shape of a butterfly. I insisted she wear a hat to keep the sun off her fair skin. As it so happened, she had one handy, and it so happened to be purple.

  I whispered to her, “Purple People Eater.” Which she responded to with a rolling giggle that made her belly come alive like some kind of alien was trapped inside.

  We walked to the Lexus, and I noticed a huge scratch over the hood. “Is that new?” I asked.

  He nodded. “It happened at Walmart today, but it beats the windshield being blown out any day.”

  “I’m hoping for calmer days,” I said. “I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever find Jennifer.”

  “Don’t be discouraged. Look at all the enemies you’re collecting.”

  Usually I would care less what people thought of me, but since the firebomb, things took on a sinister tone. It just wasn't safe for me to be anywhere, and I was beginning to think... to be near me. If I stayed with Eleanor much longer, her life might be in jeopardy too, and I couldn't have that.

  We climbed into the Lexus, and Andrew roared up the road. He pulled into Rosa Lee’s driveway, which appeared to be filled with an odd display of flashing bubble lights, which came from five state police cruisers. From the looks of it, the whole damn town had turned out.

  Andrew hit the gas and planted his Lexus atop Rosa Lee’s rose bushes. I was unsure how she'd feel about that, but if someone did that at my house, I’d be burning mad. Maybe burning was not the word I’d use.

  I made my way into the backyard in time to see Jack Winston slammed to the ground. Two troopers struggled to keep him on the ground, while another slapped the cuffs on him.

  “You goddamn pigs better get the hell off!” Jack shouted.

  “If you don’t stop fighting us, you’ll leave me no choice but to call your son, Jack! Do you want me to call Frank?”

  Jack’s glazed-over eyes looked as if he was giving this some thought. “Frank?”

  He went limp, with what some might misconstrue as defeat. “You call my son, you son of a bitch, and I’ll be calling your mama, boy.”

  “You don’t know my mother,” the young trooper said.

  Jack's eyes danced about. “She sucked my winkie just last week.”

  The trooper picked him up and pushed Jack toward the car. “Shut your yap and keep walking,” the trooper ordered.

  Eleanor gasped! “Is this an episode of Cops?”

  It did look like an episode of Cops too, a senior red neck version. Two old men were engaged in a battle with a trooper, one swinging a cane and the other a walker.

  “Please stop. I don’t want to hurt an old man,” one trooper said just before he ducked.

  “You’re the one that’s going to be in pain,” Mr. Wilson yelled!

  How had I not recognized him before?

  I envisioned someone having a heart attack, or at least a trooper getting a contusion. This madness had to stop.

  “Pop off a shot into the air, it might calm them down,” I shouted at Trooper Sales, who had just cleared the woods carrying a large garbage bag.

  Sales pulled his gun out and fired into the air. The explosion rattled my ears, and I watched everyone hit the deck, except for Frank Alton who fumbled with his hearing aid.

  “What did I miss?” Frank asked.

  “Oh, Frank!” Dorothy Alton exclaimed. “You were almost shot to pieces.”

  It might not have been the smartest of ideas. I knew most of the seniors here were veterans.

  Rosa Lee sat where she always did, in her lawn chair, but this time handcuffed.

  She smiled and shrugged. “They do this at least once a year.”

  I popped a look at Trooper Sales. “Is this necessary? This was a fundraiser for me.”

  He scratched his head. “Looks like a pot party to me?”

  I sniffed the air. “Smells like pig roast. Why don’t you just take the weed and leave it at that.”

  “I can’t do that,” he said.

  “Rosa Lee, aren’t you registered to grow marijuana for medicinal purposes?”

  “Sure am.”

  “It’s still breaking federal law.”

  My hands moved to my hips, “Are you an FBI agent, Sales?”

  He drew his lips together and gazed around at the foray.

  “Think about how much it’ll cost the county. Most of these folks will drain the budget in medical costs alone,” I insisted.

  As if listening, Sales replied, “Keep talking.”

  “Take the weed and come back and enjoy the barbecue. Except for Jack. I'm afraid he assaulted an officer.”

  “Nothing new.” He smirked.

  Trooper Sales gathered the troopers in a circle as if negotiating. When they separated, they rounded up more bags and filled them with weed, enough to keep the entire state high for a month from the looks of it.

  When Rosa Lee was free of her cuffs, she gave me a quick hug, the most expression of emotion I would likely ever get from her.

  “Sorry about your plants, Rosa Lee.”

  “Oh don’t worry about that.”

  She didn’t elaborate, but I knew she had more, much more. I was glad she didn’t elaborate because I didn’t want to know.

  The crowd of seniors returned and started eating chips.

  “Looks like the munchies have kicked in,” Andrew said. “I wish we had gotten here earlier.”

  I noticed Roy having arrived with a man who I didn’t recognize. He looked dark skinned like the other goons, with his black hair slicked back, and dressed mighty fine for a barbeque, wearing a black suit. Could he be one of the goons? I had only taken a brief glance at the goons at Roy's Bait & Tackle, but if this fellow was one of the them, why would Roy be anywhere near him?

  Roy’s cheeks were red and became even more so when he laughed. I watched him and his friend with interest. I felt something odd was unfolding before my eyes. Damn, Roy is up to no good again. I could feel it.

  “What’s the matter?” Andrew asked.

  “I wonder who that stranger is with Roy.”

  “Oh no, stranger danger.” He rolled his eyes. “I swear small towns are all the same.”

  I let Andrew’s voice trail away. I was too busy concentrating. Offhandedly, I said to Andrew, “Why not ask Rosa Lee if she has a hidden stash?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “With the cops here?”

  I motioned him off. “She’s got ways.”

  I watched Andrew trail after a laughing Rosa Lee. I searched for Eleanor and spotted her giggling like a schoolgirl as she spoke with a group of troopers. She was in her glory, and when I spotted Mr. Wilson, I saw why
. He was talking to a rather young woman with enormous breasts that resembled water balloons. It made no sense to me why the young folks these days do that to themselves. She should get a job as a lifeguard, I nastily told myself. Her boobs would make good floatation devices.

  I walked over to Roy, and he smiled. “Hello, Agnes. If you get tired of your lawyer man and want to rock on the Roy boat, just call me.”

  I frowned and shook my head. Roy did look like a boat though, and not one I’d be wanting to rock on. “Who’s your friend?”

  Roy turned to his companion. “Agnes here is what we call the town snoop. I wouldn’t get too close to her, Anthony.”

  “Why's that?” asked Anthony, a permanent grimace on his face.

  “Why, Mr. Cicero? 'Cause trouble seems to find her everywhere she goes.”

  “You mean like a firebomb being tossed into my house?”

  “She must have made many enemies,” Anthony said. “My name is – “

  “I heard as much.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet such an experienced investigator such as yourself.”

  I stared at him. I wondered if I knew him. “Do I know you?”

  “You should, but I doubt you’d recall ruining my marriage ten years ago.”

  I tried to remember, but couldn’t. Being seventy-two, jeezus, what did he expect.

  “I think you must be mistaken. The only people I have ever investigated were scum bags. Are you a scum bag?”

  Anthony seemed less than amused. I was sure this man had something to hide. The two of them were up to something but what?

  Obviously, Anthony had heard enough and walked toward the bimbo Mr. Wilson was trying hard to rub against. “Time to go, Glenda!” Anthony shouted. He again proved himself to be a pig of course, not that it was a surprise because most men fell into that category, except Andrew of course.

  “You would do well to stop sticking your nose into things that aren’t your business,” Roy said.

  “How long have you been living in Tadium?” Not waiting for an answer, I continued. “I know you were living here when the Robinson murders occurred.”

  His eyes bulged slightly at the questioning. “That would describe half the town.”