“Good point. I bet he’ll change his tune when we find his father.”
“Poppycock. He doesn’t want him found, is my thinking.”
“I believe you’re right, El. I wonder if Hal is still seeing Mildred Winfree.”
“Beats me, but they have been hot and heavy since our ghost case.”
I laughed. “She’d be a good person to question if she wasn’t my nemesis.”
“Well, that true, but we have to at least try.”
“Unless they’re both missing.”
“Might be. Maybe they ran off to get hitched.”
I laughed. “They certainly are both nuts enough to, but somehow I can’t see it.” Truth was I couldn’t see what ole Hal saw in Mildred. She’s a shrew and vindictive. “She’s definitely on our list. Do you know where we can find her, El?”
“Have to ask her sister, Elsie Bradford.”
I winced at that. Ever since Mildred showed up in town I have been on the outs with Elsie. “Why would the woman give me the time of day?”
“You, Agnes Barton, need to get off your high horse. Elsie is still our friend even though I body slammed Mildred not long ago. The sooner you two patch things up the better. Plus, she has some great card parties.”
“I know, but what if… ”
El rolled her eyes. “What if she throws you out the door… what if she shuns you? Life if full of what ifs and you can’t let that stop you.”
“Of course you’re right. I might as well bite the bullet.” I lightened up. “I heard they are having a craft show in town and I’m sure Elsie will be there.”
El popped a glance at the sky overhead. “It’s hot out here. Let’s get back in the car and sort this out.”
Once we were seated, I couldn’t help but notice Trooper Sales pulling in and I watched until he disappeared in the sheriff’s department. Obviously he was there for a reason, but what?
“Aggie, whatever are you looking at?”
I pointed to the trooper’s cruiser. “Look who’s here! Trooper Sales.”
“And your point is?”
“I wonder why he’s here?”
El threw her hands up. “How would I know? And I’m pretty sure he won’t tell us.”
“We’ll have to head on over to Sophia’s. Perhaps she has the scoop.” I had yet to spend any quality time with Sophia since I came home from Florida and found out that ole Trooper Sales had gotten my granddaughter pregnant. It was bad enough when they were dating, but now, it would take all my restraint not to wring Trooper Sales’ neck! The truth was, I liked Sales. He’s a fair trooper and has always run a buffer between Sheriff Peterson and I. Lord knew on any given day the ole sheriff sure could put a wrench in my plans to investigate. As it stood, I didn’t currently have a case, but things had a habit of changing in East Tawas. So Peterson’s father was missing, eh? Did it have anything to do with the upcoming election? Would Peterson really stash his father somewhere until the election was over?
El tapped her fingers on the dash, “So, Sophia is in the family way, huh?”
I gripped the steering wheel in a death-like grip. “Yes.”
“Do you think Trooper Sales is gonna step up to the plate?”
“He had better or I can’t say what I’ll do.” Shotgun wedding came to mind. “Lord knows I can’t count on my daughter Martha to put a plan into action.”
Eleanor giggled. “Plan? Just what do you have cooped up in that head of yours?”
“Trooper Sales needs to marry my granddaughter, or else.”
“Or else what? People don’t have shotguns weddings anymore.”
“We’ll see.”
“She might not even want to marry him. It’s not like a single girl can’t have a baby these days.”
“I don’t expect you to understand, but you do know how much I love my granddaughter.”
“I know. She’s been through a lot, but seriously, Agnes. You can’t run the girls life.” She paused, “So what’s up with Martha?”
“Nothing besides getting under my skin.” I changed the subject—anything to get my mind off the fact that my long lost daughter had returned to town and I was forced to let her stay with me. It’s not like I could throw her out in the streets. “I’m still waiting for the go-ahead to move into my house. I have half a mind to call my insurance agent. There has to be some reason there’s been a delay.” It still bugged me that my house had been firebombed on a previous case.
“Don’t worry, Agnes. I’m sure your house will be finished before the summer is up.”
I made the turn down Sophia’s driveway and screeched to a stop. Sophia was standing outside with a strange man who was dressed in a blue suit and tie. I had to put a hand over my eyes for a moment to cut the shiny reflection coming off the man’s shoes!
“Hello there,” the man greeted us, shoving a flyer into our palms. “I’m Clay Barry. I’m running for Iosco County Sheriff.”
I surveyed the candidate before me. His dark hair was slicked back and he had trim hips, unlike the burgeoning frame of Sheriff Peterson. He was quite attractive, with rugged good looks and piercing brown eyes.
Finally I said, “And where do you hail from?”
“I have been a deputy in Redwater, Michigan, for ten years. That’s in the thumb of Michigan.”
“I can’t say I have ever heard of Redwater before.”
“Me either,” Eleanor interjected. “It sounds made up to me.”
Clay hugged the stack of flyers close to his frame. “I hear that all the time, but Redwater isn’t much different than East Tawas. It’s also on Lake Huron.”
“I’m perfectly aware of what lake borders the thumb of Michigan, young man. How old are you?”
“Jeez, Aggie. I thought you’d like a younger sheriff in town.”
“Who says I want a change in guard? I like Sheriff Peterson just fine.”
El laughed. “Seriously?”
“I’m thirty-two and an experienced law enforcement man. You should come to my fundraiser later today and learn more about me. My mother is even going to be there.”
His mother, really? “I might just do that. Where is it?”
“At the East Tawas public beach.”
I nodded as Clay walked away, putting a flyer on the cars of the neighbors who didn’t answer their doors.
“Well, it looks like ole Peterson has some stiff competition.”
“He sure is a handsome fella,” El put in.
Sophia stood watching El and I.
I finally said, “Let’s go inside. I have had enough excitement for the day.”
We followed Sophia inside and noticed her place was in complete disarray, with boxes trailing from her kitchen to the bedroom. Each of them had been etched in black marker.
My heart thudded against my chest. “Are you moving?”
Sophia smiled, her cheeks rosy. She adjusted her wavy hair’s ponytail holder. She was dressed in denim shorts and white tee, pink flip-flops on her feet. “Yes, I wanted to tell you before, but ever since you came back from Florida you have been so busy.”
Nothing like stalling, I thought. “Go on.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” El spat.
“No, it’s not obvious to me,” I retorted.
“You’re moving in with Bill, aren’t you?” El asked with a wink.
I grabbed my throat when Sophia nodded. “What—ttt?”
Sophia put her hands up in a defensive mode. “Don’t go all granny on me. I’m pregnant and moving in with Bill. It’s the next step.”
“No, getting married is the next step. You skipped one.”
“Oh, Gramms. You don’t have to get married these days just because you’re pregnant.”
“Yes, you do. Do you realize what the gossip mongers will do if you don’t?”
Everyone looked at El until she muttered. “What?”
“You can’t keep a secret if you tried.”
“Well, Sophia won’t be able to keep this secret too much long
er,” El said. “You should both know I’m not going to say a word, but this is a small town and people talk in a small town.”
“They had better not let me hear them say anything about my Sophia.” I hugged Sophia. “I hope you know what you’re doing, dear, but did Bill at least ask you to marry him?”
“No, and I want you to stay out of it. I don’t want Bill to feel railroaded into popping the question. It won’t mean anything if he only does it because you made him feel like he had to. So keep your shotgun unloaded.”
“And what about your mother?”
“You should know how Martha is, Gramms. We’re still trying to mend our relationship.”
I gave Sophia one last parting hug and made my way back to the car. Once Eleanor settled herself I took off down the road with a rumble, a smoke trail in my wake.
Chapter Three
I parked the caddy on the main drag, and El and I jaywalked across US 23. Tables were lined on the streets, hawking a variety of crafts.
“How are we going to find Elsie?” I asked El.
El pointed ahead of us. “Let’s ask Rosa Lee Hill.”
Rosa Lee Hill had quite the crowd and I knew why when I spotted the brownies. We made our way to her side. “I hope those aren’t the same brownies. You know, the ones with the special ingredient.” How else was I supposed to ask her if the brownies contained marijuana by-product?
She wiped a hand over her green sleeveless blouse. “Don’t be silly. The sheriff has already been by to check.”
“He just wants to make sure you retired from the medicinal business for good.”
She tucked her thin hair behind each ear. “I grow plants for potpourri these days. I have a nice shop where Roy’s Bait and Tackle used to be. You should stop by sometime.”
Rosa Lee picked out purple and pink flowers, exchanging them for a twenty from a lady with a purple dress. “Make sure you get these into water when you get home,” she informed the woman.
I stared at the incense displayed in glass jars. There were some pretty intense fragrances here, not unlike being at a flower shop. I sniffled a little at the perfumed sticks that smelled worse than a perfume factory.
“Have you seen Elsie Bradford?”
“Sure, she’s right over there.”
I followed where Rosa Lee pointed out. Elsie stood out, dressed in her powder blue ensemble like always. We thanked Rosa Lee for the info and made tracks toward Elsie, who was selling cloth dolls, each with a painted canvas face.
Elsie looked up when she spotted us, but continued to sell dolls to a group of young women who wore matching blue bikinis.
“Hello Elsie,” I finally said.
“You’re back from Florida I see. You could have at least said goodbye first,” she huffed.
Was Elsie mad because we didn’t say goodbye, for real? “Well, I guess I didn’t know you cared.”
“It’s the least you could do. We are friends, after all.”
“We are? But I thought you were mad at me because of Mildred.”
She pursed her lips, which widened her cheeks. “Don’t be silly. I know how Mildred can get. It’s all ancient history between you two. I was shocked when my sister hit you like that.”
I searched the crowd. “Where is Mildred?”
“Oh I don’t know. Ever since she met Hal Peterson she hasn’t been very reliable. She was supposed to help me sell these dolls.”
I glanced at one particular doll with a hideous expression on its face. “She must have helped you make a few dolls, at least.”
She stared at the doll I was just looking at. “Sure, but she’s not very artistic.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“About a week ago, why?”
“Well, I heard Hal Peterson is missing.”
“Oh my! If he’s missing then so is my sister.”
“So you think they were together when they disappeared?”
Elsie nodded. “I’m sure of it. What do you think happened to them? I mean in your expert sleuth opinion?”
“Well, they might have just taken a trip, but Hal has a companion, Raul Perez. If anything, they are all together somewhere. I had wondered if it has anything to do with the upcoming election.”
“True, Hal certainly is an embarrassment to Sheriff Peterson. The last time he was over, he peed in my indoor tree’s pot.”
I stifled a giggle. “Oh my.”
“There’s no talking to Mildred about it though. She’s fallen for Hal pretty hard.”
“Wow, I just don’t understand that one. I had always thought Mildred hated men.”
“Me too, after her divorce that is, but it seems she’s forgotten all about that.” Elsie’s eyes pled with me. “Please find my sister. I’d be happy to pay for your trip. I remember my sister mentioning that she and Hal might go to the casino sometime.”
“Thanks Elsie. That’s a good tip, but did she mention which one?”
“Mt. Pleasant I believe.”
“Thanks!”
El and I gave Elsie a quick hug and we left. From the way her eyes bulged out, you’d have thought she’d much prefer to be a comfortable distance from us. I was happy for a few reasons; Elsie really wasn’t mad at me and I found out where her sister and Hal Peterson might have gone.
“So we’re heading to Mt. Pleasant?” El asked as she rubbed her hands together.
“Not yet we’re not. I want to check out the fundraiser for the new candidate. He said his mother would be there. You can tell a lot about someone from meeting their mother.”
El snickered. “I wonder what people think when they meet you.”
“I can’t be blamed with how Martha turned out.”
“She’s your mirror image if you ask me.”
I gasped. “I don’t gallivant around in cat suits.”
“No, but you do shop at Victoria Secret for undies.”
“What do you expect me to wear, granny panties?”
“No, but they do sell bikini briefs at Walmart, you know.”
“I know that, but I like going to Saginaw once in a while.”
“Is that right. Then why haven’t we been there recently?”
“Because none of our cases have led us there, smarty pants!”
“I could go for some real shopping at a real mall for a change. Sometimes I wish East Tawas had more places to shop at.”
“I know, but we have so many quaint shops. You just can’t get that anywhere else.”
We drove to the East Tawas public beach and there was already quite the crowd. Red and blue streamers hung off a small stage and they were selling hotdogs and soda from stands.
An older woman, dressed snugly in a lavender dress, stood shoving a hot dog into her mouth while clutching a beer can and it was all I could do not to shout, “You can’t do that at the beach.” From what I was aware, you can’t even drink beer in public like that outside unless it’s at bar patio or beer tent.
I strode up to the woman as she chomped on her hotdog and waited until she was done. I then said, “You do know you can’t drink beer at the public beach.”
Her cheeks became fire engine red. “Did my son send you over here?”
I shrugged. “I don’t think I know your son. Is he someone special?”
“Well, he is running for sheriff in this county.”
I gasped. “Really? So you must be Clay Barry’s mother. I met him earlier and he told me his mother would be here.”
“Undoubtedly. I’m Mrs. Barry.”
El leaned forward on her toes. “Do you have a first name?”
“Yes, but everybody calls me Mrs. Barry so you can too.”
I smiled. “That’s awfully formal for someone drinking beer on the beach. If you keep that kind of business up, you’ll make Sheriff Peterson happy.”
“My son is a shoe-in for sheriff. As you can see, my son is very fit and much younger than that rot gut Peterson.”
I felt offended, like I had to stick up for Peterson.
“He’s a good sheriff. I can’t imagine any newcomer would stand a chance against him.”
“Well, you’re wrong there. My son is going to clean up this town.”
“East Tawas is already cleaned up and nicer than you’ll find anywhere in Michigan.”
“Redwater is a nice town too.”
“Then why isn’t he running for sheriff there?”
“Be-because my dear lady, he wants to run here.”
I rolled my eyes just as the sheriff’s car rolled into the parking lot. His car screeched to a stop and he rumbled out, making tracks toward us. Eying the beer can, his face reddened. “There’s no beer allowed on the beach. Can’t you read the sign?” he bellowed.
“I can read just fine. I’ll throw it away if it bothers all you people so much,” an exasperated Mrs. Barry said.
“So what gives, Peterson? Fancy meeting you here,” I said.
He eyed up the banner and replied, “I received a few complaints, but I’ll take my leave since it’s settled.” At that he left—obviously not wanting to interfere in the fundraiser of his opponent.
A black sedan drove up and I shuddered momentarily. Ever since goons had shot at El and me during a case, black sedans gave me the willies.
Clay Barry exited the sedan, followed by two comical looking senior ladies who were dressed alike, in white leggings underneath yellow shirts displaying a large Macaw dead center that was done in blue, red, and green vibrant sequins. It was hideous. It looked worse than what I had seen earlier at the craft show. Both ladies had pinched faces with bright rouge applied to their cheekbones. Their hair was swooped up into a beehive of sorts, and who wore one of those these days? It dated back to the 60’s when women had their hair done once a week by beauticians of the day.
Eleanor shuddered in shock. “Would you look at that?”
“I’m seeing but I’m not believing.”
“Well, believe it all right, girls,” came the voice of Mrs. Barry behind them. “Those are the bird sisters, Mrs. Peacock and Mrs. Canary.” She went on further to explain. “Mrs. Peacock has a Macaw. Strange bird talks more than most folks I know. Real insightful.”
“I see,” I muttered between snickers. “Your son sure has his supporters, but dear… are any of them residents of East Tawas?”
“Well, no,” Mrs. Barry admitted. “They’re here to rally support.”
Madison Johns - Agnes Barton 04 - Trouble in Tawas Page 2