Secret Keepers and Skinny Shadows: Lee and Miranda

by Mary A Russell

  Miranda folded her arms in front of her and looked at Jane.

  “No, you don’t,” Miranda said. “We may uncover all the secrets surrounding this murder, you never know, we’re sure of one thing, someone thinks we are getting too close.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “We stopped at the cemetery where your uncle is buried and someone took a shot at us.”

  “What!” Jane said with a nervous laugh. “That’s crazy, who would do such a thing?”

  “That’s the same question we had.”

  “Wow,” Jane said, shaking her head.

  “Then Gus showed up and about scared us to death, he said a lot of strangers were in town nosing around.”

  “Oh, big old lovable Gus,” Jane said.

  “Miranda and I were so intrigued by the things we read in the letters that I had her place an ad in the Bridgetown Mirror, it’ll run in tomorrow’s paper.”

  Jane turned in Lee’s direction, and crossed her arms on top of the desk. “What does the ad say?”

  “We asked that anyone with information they would like to share about the murder or Lilly to contact us, for a possible book,” Lee said.

  “Jane, Lilly lived here in Benson and graduated from high school in 1930,” Miranda added. “Her maiden name was Sanders, she was also married in the church down the street.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Jane said. “How did you find all that information?”

  “I found her wedding announcement in the 1934 Benson Herald. After spending hours searching the Internet,” Miranda said, “digging a bit here and a bit there. After a trip to the library this morning we now have a lot more information about her and her family. Lilly was a popular girl, busy in high school.”

  Lee studied Jane as Miranda was talking. She was petite like Joan except she was eleven years older. She was in her seventies and still good looking, with eyes that sparkled when she smiled. Jane turned in Lee’s direction.

  “Lee, fifty years is a long time. Most of the people involved in and with the killing are no doubt dead, and not a lot of people are going to remember the murder.” Jane paused for a moment. “My uncle was a gentle giant. He lived a rough life that had transformed his blue eyes to a dull gray and his rugged handsome complexion into a scared, twisted, sagging face. His heavy drinking, bar fights, and that terrible accident all did their work in transforming him into someone whom none of us knew any longer. But he was a nice man, at least to his family.”

  Lee interrupted Jane. “Was he your dad’s brother?”

  “Yes, Uncle Bert and my dad had the same personality. Physically they were exact opposites, there were no strangers to either of them. Everyone they ever met would walk away thinking they were my uncle’s or my dad’s best friend.” Jane moved her hands from the desktop to her lap.

  “It’s obvious someone didn’t like Bert,” Lee said, “and Lillian Grace seems to think she knows who.”

  “So, you think Lillian is telling the truth and not some nut trying to get attention?” Jane asked.

  “Miranda and I are going to try to either prove or disprove the statements Lillian makes in the letters. Would you happen to know this address?” Lee handed a piece of paper to Jane with the address written on it.

  “Why, yes, this is a good address, that’s the high-end real estate section of town. Who did you say lives at this address?”

  “We don’t know who lives there now,” Lee said, “but that’s where Lillian Sanders Grace grew up.”

  Jane’s mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me?”

  “No, we’re not kidding,” Lee said. “We pulled that address from Lilly and George’s wedding announcement.”

  “What was her maiden name again?” Jane asked.

  “Sanders,” Lee said.

  “When I was in high school there was a drug store in town, it was Sanders Family Drugs. I wonder if her father operated that business.”

  “Is the drug store still there?” Lee asked.

  “There’s a drug store there, but it’s no longer Sanders. A chain bought it out about ten years ago. They’ve added onto the building and completely remodeled it.” Jane stood and walked to the window. “Her family had to have money to live at that address,” she said as she turned looking at Lee. “You and Miranda have found so much information in such a short period of time. Too bad the police didn’t do their job investigating back then. They could’ve learned the same information if they’d wanted to. Well, good luck with the rest of your research and the ad. I hope it’s profitable for you. If I can help, you know where to find me, both of you have my phone number.”

  “I do have one more question,” Lee said. “In Lilly’s letters she said Bert told her about a sister or a cousin or someone who was trying to buy some land from him and he refused to sell it because he didn’t like the person. Do you know anything about that?”

  “Huh, I would say Uncle Bert had to tell her that bit of information. There is no other way she could have known. So, maybe she did know him after all.” Jane walked over, sat in her chair crossing her legs.

  “The person who tried to buy the land was my cousin Donna. She would get into knockdown, drag-out fights with my uncle about the land. About once a week Donna would drive up to my Uncle Bert and Aunt Elizabeth’s and start fighting with my uncle. Aunt Elizabeth would phone daddy to come up and break up the fight. Mind you, my little dad between these two. It would be funny if it weren’t so serious. I don’t mean to mislead you. They didn’t hit each other, but there was a lot of serious name calling.” Jane chuckled, and shook her head. “Donna hounded my uncle about it in fact, she was relentless. I think her mom, Aunt Miser, was encouraging Donna to try to buy the land, but Uncle Bert refused to sell it to her.”

  “What reason would Miser have to goad Donna to be so relentless?” Lee asked. “Why did she want Donna to have it?”

  “I don’t know. That’s a question I often ask myself. Maybe Aunt Miser wanted to acquire all the estate, and Uncle Bert’s land would make it that much bigger.”

  “Miser,” Lee said. “What kind of a name is that to give a kid?”

  “Back in those days,” Jane said, “they named people after relatives, friends and places, who knows where they dug up the name Miser.”

  “Greed is a great motivator,” Lee said, “compelling a person to commit an act that under normal circumstances would be foreign to them.” Lee moved across the room and sat in his chair.

  “Where was the twenty acres of land, and how did Bert get control of it?” Lee asked.

  “When the twenty acres in question came up for sale next to the home place, Uncle Bert bought it for five thousand dollars, but he had it deeded just in his name, so there was no attachment to the home place. Donna said she wanted to live on the property, but Uncle Bert didn’t want her there. Donna never married, and after she came home from the Air Force she worked as a prison nurse in southern New York.”

  “Donna sounds like she might have been a bit on the rough side, and would have been in the know with the police with access to low-life criminal elements,” Lee said. “Maybe she hired someone to commit murder then paid off the local police to cover it up.”

  Jane nodded. “I guess it would seem to point in that direction.”

  Miranda chimed in. “Sounds to me like a motive for murder.”

  “Yes,” Jane said, “I guess it does but Donna was such a quiet person, other than fighting with Uncle Bert, it would be hard to believe that she could do something so evil.”

  “Jane,” Miranda said, “do you know if the police investigated any of the family members for the murder?”

  “They never investigated any of us. Reggie and I used to talk between ourselves wondering why they didn’t, especially since Donna was trying to gain ownership of the property.”

  “Do you know if anyone ever told the police about Donna and her efforts to buy the property from your uncle?” Lee asked.

  “I didn’t, but I don’t know
what the other family members may have told them.”

  “What was your reason for not telling the police about Donna?”

  “At the time, the thought crossed my mind, but I couldn’t bring myself to betray a family member”.

  “Even though this family member may have committed murder?”

  “I couldn’t do it at the time, Lee. I do regret it now, but it’s too late. Donna died about ten years ago.”

  “Did Donna ever get the land?” Lee asked.

  “Yes. After Uncle Bert died, Aunt Elizabeth received the property from Uncle Bert’s estate. Then about five years later, she sold it to Donna. She had a log house erected on the land and lived there along with her widowed mother, who died shortly after moving in. Donna continued to live there alone until she died. Again, I did think it strange that the police didn’t investigate the family.”

  “Do you know if Donna was in Bridgetown the night your uncle was murdered?” Lee asked.

  “Yes, I do know she was in Bridgetown. I was with Aunt Elizabeth when she cornered Donna to find out where she was that night and if she was at the hot dog stand. She told us she was, but it must have been before Uncle Bert got there because she said she left around ten o’clock that night.”

  Lee looked at Miranda smiling.

  “All right, Jane,” Lee said, “let’s get down to brass tacks here, Lillian wrote in her letters that your uncle had a pet name for her, she said he always called her Lilly. Why would she mention that one thing?”

  “Well, it’s an interesting statement. Uncle Bert liked to use pet names for women he cared about. As an example he never called me Jane, he always called me Janie, in the same way he always called Joan Joanie.” Jane paused and nodded. “From that one statement alone, I would say she must have known him.”

  “One more thing,” Lee said. “Would it be okay to drive up to the property and look around? I’m sure Miranda knows how to get there, it would be helpful to see where all the things we’ve talked about took place.”

  “I’ll call my son Johnny and let him know you’ll be looking around the old place. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  “We’ve taken up enough of your time, it’s getting late,” Lee said as he stood and smiled at Jane. “Thanks again for all the information, Jane.”

  “Oh, no, thank you.”

  Lee glanced around the well-appointed office.

  “Jane, it looks like you do well in your real estate business.”

  “It makes a decent living for my son and me. Johnny runs the office most of the time now because I’m semi-retired, but I still have deep connections around town, so call if I can help with anything let me know. I’d like to be kept informed of what you learn from your research.”

  “Of course, Jane. I’ll keep in touch with you,” Lee said.

  “Oh, and Miranda, we need to get together some night for dinner it’s been awhile. I miss our times together.”

  “I’d like that, Jane call me.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you this,” Jane said. “A neighbor who lives across the river from the home place or the farm we’ve been talking about, called and asked me to meet her there; she said she had something for me. When she showed up she pulled a rusted coffee tin from the trunk of her car, as she handed it to me the smell of kerosene filled my nose. I gazed down into the can, swimming in the liquid was a small hand gun.” Jane paused and looked at Lee. “Then she told me this story.” Jane continued.

  “Two months after my uncle’s murder her husband had gone fishing in the river that ran behind their house. As he was slogging through the brush at the edge of the riverbank his boot caught on something. He bent over, parted the weeds and saw the rusted gun. He brought it home, put it in this can, and covered it in kerosene so it wouldn’t rust anymore. He told her not to tell anyone he found it, that it might be involved in the Grayson murder. It was a small bird shot handgun.”

  Lee glanced in Miranda’s direction, and back at Jane.

  “So, she promised her husband that she wouldn’t tell anyone, but since he’s passed away she didn’t think it would make any difference now.”

  “What made her husband think by finding the gun it would connect him to the murder?”

  “I didn’t think to ask her that.”

  “Wow,” Lee said. “Do you still have the gun?”

  “Yes, I put it in the shed. When you go to the home place, tell Johnny you’d like to look at it.”

  “Do you think the police would check the pellets they pulled out of Bert’s hand against the gun in the coffee can?” Miranda asked.

  “If you’d like to take it to them, I don’t care,” Jane said. “It’s up to you, but I don’t know if I’d trust the Bridgetown Police.”

  “You’re right, I’ll send it off to the FBI. I still have a few connections with in the department, and they can confirm the results for us. The FBI can obtain some of the pellets from the Bridgetown Police evidence department.”

  “If they still have the evidence and haven’t gotten rid of it,” Jane said.

  Lee glanced at Jane, thinking that was a strange statement. Smiling at Jane, they said their goodbyes, and made their way to the door.

  Lee held the door open for Miranda as they left the office.

  Standing outside the door, Lee could see Miranda scanning the buildings lining both sides of the street. “When did this part of town get so dumpy?” She said.

  “It sure is. Jane may want to think about the possibility of moving her office to a safer area.” Lee opened the car door stopping short of getting in, his eyes followed the line of buildings and trees surrounding them.

  “What are you looking for? It’s almost dark.”

  “I don’t know,” Lee said. “I can sense someone watching us, but who and why? Can’t you feel the eyes following you, Miranda? I can feel the hair on the back of my neck and arms standing up again.”

  Lee turned toward the office. He could see Jane’s face as she stood at the window, watching them. He saw her walk away from the window, then he heard the dead bolt latch on the door. He thought that maybe she sensed the watchers as well, and he’d bet she knew who they were. He guessed she probably knew as he did—they were the second generation who knew the sins of their fathers and mothers.

  Lee slid behind the wheel, for a few seconds they sat in the car looking for something; anything, it didn’t matter. Lights were flipping on in the buildings and houses, radiating a warm soft glow from the windows. The smell of exhaust fumes hung in the air from the passing vehicles. The light polls started to flicker on one after the other down the avenue. The full moon filtered light down through the treetops, casting long skinny shadows onto the sidewalks and streets. Lee shivered at the eerie scene.

  He tapped Miranda’s leg and pointed. “There. Did you see that?” He was pointing toward the big house on the hill in front of them.

  “What? I didn’t see anything.”

  “You didn’t see the curtain move? Someone was at the window, when I looked up, whoever it was stepped back and the curtain closed.”

  “We’re running out of time tonight, Lee. We won’t be able to fit a visit to Jane’s home place until tomorrow sometime.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Present Day

  Hidden by the dark shadows of the tall trees in the moonlight, Randy picked his way to the patio doors. He slid the knife into the space between the doorjamb and the lock. In a flash he had the door open and was in the room. With the small flashlight between his teeth, he moved like an apparition, his steps were undetectable. With the skill of a magician he opened the black briefcase on the closet floor, they weren’t in there. In one smooth fluid movement he found the computer room, the drawers and books didn’t give up what he was looking for, fifteen minutes later he’d searched everywhere, but couldn’t find them.

  The sound from the opening garage door told him it was time to leave, in a swift and silent rush he exited.

  As the overhead door closed, Lee
watched Miranda put the key into the door lock, push the heavy door open and hit the light switch. The first thing she saw were pots and pans scattered around on the floor.

  “Oh no, what the heck happened here? Look at this mess.” Miranda lowered her voice to a whisper. “It seems we had a visitor.”

  Randy bounded down the wooden patio steps running across the well-kept lawn. With the skill of an acrobat, he zigzagged his slim body around the cement seats and the pond behind the house, with his eyes on the dark forest in front of him.

  “Or still have one,” Lee said in soft tones. “Now do you still think I’m imagining things?”

  He put his index finger to his lips, tapped Miranda on the shoulder, and whispered, “Wait here, Miranda. Let me check the rest of the house to make sure there’s no one here. You go back into the garage, lock the door and call the police on your cell.”

  “There’s no way I’m waiting in the garage. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “This isn’t the time to argue with me. Just get into the garage and call the police.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  Lee watched Miranda grab the garage doorknob, before he turned, and pulled his gun out of the holster. He was about to start walking, following the papers littering the hall, when he thought he heard a noise and paused, “Oh,” Lee said, as Miranda ran into him almost knocking him down. “Miranda, what are you doing?” He whispered. “I told you to wait in the garage.”

  “I was never good at taking orders. It caused me a lot of problems when I worked. Anyway two weapons are better than one.” Miranda crossed the kitchen and pulled open a bottom cabinet drawer, felt underneath, loosened some tape and turned to face Lee. He gave her a wide-eyed stare.

  “Now this is a weapon,” she said, holding a .40 caliber semi-automatic pistol in her hand.

  “What the devil? You keep that in your kitchen?”