Madison Johns - Agnes Barton 06 - Bigfoot in Tawas

by Madison Johns

  “Actually no, dear. Billy seemed genuinely concerned and interested in finding Bigfoot himself. That’s why he hired us—to find him.”

  Sophia wisped back a strand of her curly brown hair. “So this is your big new case? Finding Bigfoot?”

  “That sounds like a great title for a book,” El said with a chuckle.

  “Or Bigfoot in Tawas,” I added. “The Animal Channel plans to do a show called Finding Bigfoot.” I stirred my coffee, and the scent of vanilla wafted in the air. Oh, just how I liked my coffee, liberally doused with vanilla creamer. “I just don’t know how to proceed.”

  “I’ll make a few calls,” Sales said. “I have some friends who work for the Zoological Society. They might have some ideas.”

  I handed the baby to Eleanor to hold, instructing her to make sure she didn’t let the baby’s head drop. “Agnes Barton, I know how to hold a baby, you know.”

  I had to laugh. “Of course you do, dear. Sorry. I guess it’s a force of habit to remind someone how to do it right.”

  “Yes,” Sophia said. “I had to bite my tongue not to tell you the same thing. Motherhood sure changes things.”

  I had to agree with that. “Where’s your mother been hiding?” I asked Sophia, referring to my free-spirited daughter, Martha.

  “She is nursing her wounds since she lost her realtor job.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll have to check up on her. She seems content to stay at my Winnebago at the Tawas campground.”

  “She sure is. There’s plenty of the right kind of men there—young ones.”

  I smiled. Was that ever the truth, and here I thought Martha had changed her tune since she became a grandmother. I should have known better.

  We left, and I took Eleanor home and joined her inside where we scavenged up whatever we could find in the kitchen, like Tuna Helper. I had to snicker to myself as Eleanor’s fiancé, Mr. Wilson, was known for his tuna casserole, although I do believe it’s all the man knows how to make. But since he uses a rolling walker to get around, it’s surprising that he can even manage that.

  I made my way home not long after dinner because there wasn’t anything more worth discussing since I had no clue who I could get to test the animal hair. I made the turn into my drive and my cat, Duchess, greeted me when I opened the door. Her meowing grated on my nerves and I gave her fresh water and food, since her bowls were nearly empty.

  “Sorry, girl.”

  I stared around my house that I had only recently moved into after it had been rebuilt. I breathed in deeply, but instead of my knotty pine walls of before, white walls greeted me. My shoulders drooped a little. The knotty pine they have nowadays just isn’t like they had in the olden days. I did pick up the fragrance of hyacinths that I had picked earlier in the day and placed into a vase that was centered on my table.

  My fiancé, the hotshot attorney, Andrew Hart, was in Detroit on business and I didn’t know when he’d return like always. It bothered me a little that he had been gone so much of late, but luckily, Eleanor and I kept quite busy investigating cases. Andrew had proposed a few months back and we had yet to set a date for the wedding. Incidentally, Mr. Wilson proposed to Eleanor around the same time. Truth be known, I’m not in that much of a hurry to tie the knot. Sure, I’ve been a widow since my forties when my husband, Tom, died of a heart attack, but does a woman my age really need to walk down the aisle and get married? I’m seventy-two, but I’m just not that much in a hurry. Especially since Andrew and I don’t completely see eye-to-eye about my sleuthing.

  I yawned and plopped down on my leather sofa. I flipped on the television, listening to the story about—who else but Billy Matlin—proclaiming to the reporter about how he had just hired Agnes Barton and Eleanor Mason to find Bigfoot since the law obviously wouldn’t do it. I grimaced. “Oh, great. Duchess, that man is gonna make El and me the laughing stock of the town.” Duchess, of course, just sat there giving me that uninterested look of hers. I knew she had more important things to think about, like where the last mouse she brought into the house might be hiding since she never kills the blasted things. Yes, it’s business as usual at the Barton house.

  * * *

  Bright and early the next morning, I was at Eleanor’s house chillin’ on the deck and watching the mist rise off Lake Huron as the sun struggled to peek through the clouds. You really never knew what kind of day it would be until you saw the sun shine.

  Eleanor was typing on her laptop at the wrought iron table she had recently bought at an estate sale. It seems she thought herself to be quite the social media whizz, but it sure has helped with our investigations in the past. It also kept her content when Mr. Wilson was busy, which he was of late since his granddaughter, Millicent, was visiting from Saginaw.

  “Billy sure can’t keep his yap closed,” Eleanor said.

  I bit my tongue so as not to mention that Eleanor also had that problem. “I saw that on the news. I suspect folks in town think that he’s plain loco.”

  “And us, too, since he blabbed that he hired us. Do you think we should drop the case, Aggie?”

  “How can we now? We have a reputation to uphold.”

  “One that’s diminished since we’re now looking for Bigfoot.”

  “I can’t say that folks haven’t thought us a brick short of a full load either, but I suppose you’re right. We haven’t dropped a case yet, and we haven’t had too many cases where we were actually hired,” I pointed out. “Have you found anything online about where we might be able to get that hair tested?”

  “No, and it’s so frustrating. What about the United States Fish and Wildlife Service? They might be interested.”

  “I guess it couldn’t hurt to ask. Does it say how we could get ahold of them?”

  She rattled off the phone number of the office in Alpena, and when I made the call, I was told that someone would meet us later at Tim Horton’s to discuss the matter. Once I had hung up, I said, “Well, at least they didn’t call me crazy.”

  “You also didn’t say why you were really calling. Endangered species, eh?”

  “It was the only thing I could come up with, but maybe I can reason with them and they’ll investigate.”

  “Yes,” Eleanor chuckled. “And maybe pigs can learn to fly. We’ll be lucky if they don’t call the men in white coats to lock us up in the loony bin.”

  I knew she wasn’t too far off, but we had to do something. “We could always talk to Leotyne Williams. She’s been helpful in the past.”

  “That gypsy? Oh, what the hay. It’s worth a try.”

  I waited in the car as Eleanor locked up, and once she was settled in the passenger seat I had to ask her, “Are you sure you want to continue on this case, Eleanor?”

  “Why suddenly the cold feet, Aggie? I have never seen you back down from a case before, difficult or otherwise.”

  “I know, but it’s so discouraging when we can’t seem to get anyone to see reason.”

  “Oh, phooey. I can’t say I really blame Sheriff Peterson for not wanting to test the hair. He has a point. Since the economy took a dive, the county’s budget is strapped. Let’s not forget that his head would most likely roll if he goes along with us. I mean, what elected official, even the sheriff, would risk his job with something this farfetched?”

  “If it’s that farfetched, then why are we doing this?”

  “To prove to everyone that Bigfoot really does exist.”

  “The day I get them to believe that is the day I’ll wash Sheriff Peterson’s police cruiser,” Agnes huffed.

  Eleanor gripped her big black purse and laughed. “Be careful what you wish for, it might come true.”

  Instead of responding, I tore off up US 23, heading back into East Tawas and the campground where my Winnebago has been parked for a good while. At least it kept my daughter from living under my roof. She’s even more unconventional than I am. She dresses and looks like she was ripped out of the seventies, including that station wagon of hers from
the same era. Surprisingly enough, that wagon still runs like a top.

  When I pulled alongside my Winnebago, Martha was sitting at the picnic table with a young man who was young enough to be her son, but instead of wasting breath over that, I nodded at the young man. “Hello, Martha. Have you had any luck with finding another realtor job?”

  “Nope, I’ve given up working for someone else. I’m going into business for myself,” she said as she strung a bead onto a string. “I’m making jewelry.”

  “Oh, and where do you plan to sell it?”

  “I’m selling it on consignment in the local businesses in East Tawas on Newman Street. Did you know they have a quaint place called Diversions Tea House?”

  “You’re going to sell jewelry at a tea house?”

  “Of course not, Mother. I was thinking we could go there to check out the place.”

  “They have great bubble tea,” the young man remarked as he also was stringing beads.

  “What on earth is bubble tea?”

  “It’s all the rage for the kids these days,” Martha said.

  “Or young adults,” the young man added. “I’m Joshua Crabtree. I met Martha—”

  I cut Joshua off. “I’d rather not know, if you don’t mind.”

  “I was going to say at the local tea house. Did you know Diversions has author signings?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “They have a mystery writer coming for a book signing at Diversions Tea House today. Author Madison Johns, she writes cozy mysteries.”

  “Cozy mysteries, you say? What on earth is that?” I just had to ask.

  “He means like Agatha Christie, but not like Miss Marple at all. Madison Johns writes about zany senior sleuths. Very unbelievable, but they sure get themselves into fixes,” Eleanor said. “If I didn’t know better I’d say the author was following us around and detailing everything we do.” She laughed. “She’s one of my friends on Facebook.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that at all. “So, what time is the book signing?”

  “At noon,” Martha said. “So you’ll go then?”

  “I’m not so sure. I mean, we’re on a big case right now.”

  Martha dropped her beads. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place? I’d be happy to help.”

  “Yes,” El began. “We’re hot on the trail of Bigfoot.”

  Martha picked her beads back up. “It’s not nice to tease. There’s no such thing as Bigfoot.”

  “Actually, I can’t say I agree with that, Martha,” Joshua said. “I’ve seen some pretty strange things near the river.”

  El’s eyes lit up. “Oh, really? Like what?”

  I just couldn’t keep my lips zipped. “Oh, so suddenly you’re a believer?”

  “Of course I am, Aggie. Remember I was the one that saw something strange out back at the Matlin place.”

  “Yes, Billy Matlin, right?” Joshua said. “I heard about that on the news.”

  I grimaced. “Yes, Billy gave us animal hair that we found, but so far we haven’t had any luck finding anyone to test it. We’re gonna look up the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service next.”

  “Yes,” El said in a serious tone. “That is, after we ask Leotyne to look in her crystal ball.”

  I could just see all of our investigative credentials flying out the window about now.

  “Oh, why not,” Martha said. “From the way I see it, a little paranormal intervention can’t hurt.”

  Joshua nodded in agreement and I couldn’t help but wonder if we were all bat shit crazy. “You don’t say. I really expected you to call the men in white coats on us.”

  “Oh, come on, Mother. It’s not like you haven’t encountered the paranormal in the past, or used Leotyne’s services before. She’s a gypsy fortune teller,” Martha explained to Joshua.

  We made our way across the road to the black monstrosity of a trailer that had all its windows covered with black curtains that you couldn’t see through. Martha and Joshua didn’t join us, and it was just as well since the trailer wasn’t so roomy on the inside.

  El knocked on the door and stepped back as a low growling could be heard from inside. I gulped hard and told myself just to calm down lest the hound sense my trepidation.

  The door swung open and the black hound bounded down and gave us a quick sniff, then chased a squirrel up a tree. We took that opportunity to climb the few steps that led inside.

  Leotyne stood there with hands on hips, dressed in a long black skirt, her long scrawny hair clinging to her head as always. Her olive skin was well wrinkled and her high cheekbones stuck out as her prominent feature.

  “I had expected you yesterday,” she said as she led us further in the trailer to a covered table where a large globe sat atop a bronze pedestal.

  Sitting on a chair was Anna Parson, a battered woman who I had thought had entered the Underground Railroad. “Hello, Anna. I had no idea you were back in town.”

  “Yes,” she shyly said. “I needed a place to stay and Leotyne was kind enough to let me stay with her until I get back on my feet.”

  “That’s great. Is she teaching you how to be clairvoyant, too?”

  “Nope, she’s already like that,” Leotyne said. “She has a raw natural talent that has thus far been untapped.”

  “I see. Well, I was hoping you might help us with finding—”

  “Bigfoot,” Anna finished for me.

  “Yes. I know how strange that must sound.”

  She sighed. “Actually, not strange at all. I’ve had this strange feeling all day and I couldn’t quite figure out why until you arrived.”

  My brow shot up. “Oh, so it had nothing to do with Billy Matlin talking to reporters?”

  “Who?”

  “If you’re clairvoyant, dear, you would already know I was coming and why.”

  “It’s not as clear cut as that, I’m afraid. Sometimes I get feelings that I just can’t explain. It’s like having a dream you can’t quite interpret until it just hits you.”

  “Okay, then. I have some questions that I’d like an answer to. Like, is Bigfoot real?”

  Anna motioned to a chair. “Please, sit.”

  I did as she asked and she took my hand into hers. Her eyes stared off into the distance and then met mine. She shuddered, her eyes rolled back and she began to sputter. “I can see him in the woods near the river.” She wrinkled her nose. “The stench is so overwhelming. It smells like dirty dog and dirty feet.”

  That got my attention. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, and someone is in grave danger.”

  “Don’t you have to look in the crystal ball?” I asked.

  “No, I can see it when I look in your eyes.”

  “Are you saying that I’m in danger?”

  She shook her head. “Not directly, but someone you’ve met is.”

  “That could be just about anyone,” El said.

  “Do you see Bigfoot?” I pressed.

  She released my hand. “That’s all I can tell you now.”

  “Leotyne, please. Can’t you look in the crystal ball and tell me if you see Bigfoot?”

  “Large beasts have been known to walk the earth. Sasquatch in Canada, Skunk Ape in Florida, Yowie in Australia, and yeti/Abominable Snowman in the Himalayas.”

  “I’ve heard those stories, but I just have a hard time believing they have merit. I’d have to see this Bigfoot firsthand before I’d believe any such story, but if I could only get someone to test that hair…”

  “We’ll have to meet with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service for sure today and see what they have to say,” Eleanor suggested.

  “Is there anything else you can tell us, Leotyne?”

  She took a necklace out of a jewelry box and placed it around my neck. “Keep this for protection just in case you meet the beast in the woods.”

  I nodded and glanced at the strange looking figurine. It was brown and looked like an animal of sorts, but not one that I’d recognize so easily. “Thanks,�
�� I said, as El and I left.

  Once we were outside, I said, “I don’t even know why I should believe a thing either of them says.”

  “Leotyne hasn’t steered us wrong before,” El said.

  “I know, but she’s never all that clear either. She speaks in riddles. I have no idea why Anna would ever stay with her.”

  “Maybe it’s just like she said, that she needed a place to stay. Who can blame the girl since that ex-boyfriend of hers battered her.”

  “I know, but Leotyne Williams is kinda scary to me. There’s no way I’d ever sleep under her roof.”

  “That’s because you’ve never been that desperate.”

  “Oh, I’m desperate all right. Desperate to solve this case.”

  “I wonder who might be in danger, Agnes?”

  “I have no idea, but we’ll figure out something soon, I’m sure. We always do.”

  Martha and Joshua were waiting for us. “It’s almost eleven. We should head on over to Diversions Tea House before it gets much later. I’d rather not be in the back of the line.”

  “Mystery writer, eh?”

  “Sure. It’s not every day that we have a book signing in Tawas.”

  That much was true. We piled in the car and headed for Newman Street. I parked and we headed toward Diversions Tea House and had no problem getting inside. “Hmph, maybe nobody plans to show up for the book signing,” I said.

  “That’s because it’s early,” a vivacious blond said. She wore a T-shirt that said in bold letters, ‘Madison Johns’ Number one fan.’

  I had to laugh. “Oh, is that right?”

  “Yes,” the blond gushed. “I’m Gina Maples Mashai. I’m from Texas.”

  “So you came all the way to Tawas from Texas?”

  “No. I’m just here for vacation. Madison’s book always made East Tawas sound so inviting that I just had to come to Michigan to check it out.”

  “We’re the Cozy Cats Book Club,” a brunette said. “My name is Sheryl Lynn.” She pointed out the redhead of the group. “That’s Pamela Ann Tucker.”

  “Where are you folks from?”

  “Oh, here and there. It’s so exciting to meet Madison Johns finally. I wonder if she’s as nice in person as she is on Facebook?” Sheryl Lynn mused.