Murder of a Sweet Old Lady

by Denise Swanson

  He was speaking as Skye slipped into her seat. “Geez, honey, me and the boys have been going fishing up north since before we got married. I can’t let them down. They count on my paying my part of the freight.”

  Irvin Tubb, Gillian’s husband, joined in. He was short and round, as his name suggested. “Yah, we been doin’ this since high school. What’s the fuss this time?”

  Gillian lowered her voice. “Money. We could use that money for other things. I need a new washer and dryer, Kristin has outgrown all her clothes, and I’m still waiting for you to pave the driveway.”

  Ginger nodded. “Yeah, our kids need clothes too, and my van has just about had it. We can’t afford for you to go this year.”

  Flip wrinkled his forehead. “Well, all right, but I thought you were getting a bunch of money when the old lady died.”

  Irvin added, “Yeah, you two were always talkin’ about the expensive jewelry she had, and how you’d get a good price for it when she finally kicked off.”

  “Why doncha say it a little louder?” Gillian sneered. “You idiot. Now Miss Smarty Pants over here will think we killed Grandma.”

  The two men turned a dull shade of red and got up from the table.

  Flip mumbled, “What the Christ. We can’t never do nothing right. Let’s get outta here.”

  Irvin followed. “Yeah, okeydokey.”

  Skye sat on a swing in the church playground and dangled her legs. Tears ran down her cheeks. She didn’t bother to wipe them off; after all, she had come outside to cry.

  Laughter and loud voices could be heard from inside the hall. No one seemed to be mourning her grandmother.

  Suddenly she was swept into a bear hug. “Honey, what are you doing out here all by yourself?”

  Strong arms held her away so that intense blue eyes could stare into hers. Charlie didn’t give her a chance to reply. “I know how close you and Antonia were. But she lived a long life, and she wouldn’t want you to cry for her.”

  “It’s not only Grandma’s death, it’s everything. As usual my life’s a mess. I thought as I got older, my life would settle down.” Skye sat back down on the swing.

  “What’s the problem?” Charlie leaned forward, taking the chains in either hand. “If someone is giving you a hard time, why didn’t you come to me?”

  “Oh, Uncle Charlie, it’s not always something you can fix.”

  “Tell me anyway.” Charlie released the links, crossed his arms, and planted his feet firmly in the gravel.

  “I don’t know where to start.” Skye swung back and forth, hoping Charlie would drop the subject.

  He gazed at her steadily. “The beginning is always a good place.”

  “Okay. Overlooking the fact that my grandmother was murdered, and I’m pretty sure a family member did it, I’m also having trouble with my job, my love life, and someone who’s playing pranks on me.”

  “Well, Antonia’s murderer will be found and if it’s a relative, it’s better to know about that person rather than have them in the bosom of your family ready to strike at any time.”

  “Maybe, but Uncle Dante is in such a state he sort of scares me.”

  “Why?” Charlie leaned forward, his forehead lined.

  After Skye told him about being dragged into the classroom and forced to remain against her will, a stream of obscenities erupted from Charlie. He ended his tirade with, “Don’t you worry about Dante. He’s just a moron studying to be an idiot.”

  Skye giggled. “Yeah, and those are pretty much his good points.” She felt better, having told Charlie. At least if someone hurt her, Charlie knew that Dante had threatened her.

  “Now, what’s up with your job?” Charlie moved on to her next dilemma.

  She cursed herself. Skye hadn’t intended to tell Charlie about that. She didn’t want him pulling any more strings on her behalf. “Oh, that’s not much of anything. A few angry parents at the end of the school year, that’s all. It’s taken care of.”

  “I heard about your tires and windows. Has there been anything else?”

  “Someone stole something from my car while it was parked in my own driveway.”

  “I was talking to Jed and we think you need an alarm at your house and on your car. You’re isolated. It’s an invitation for trouble.” Charlie took a toothpick from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth. “I talked to a security company, and they’re going to come out day after tomorrow.”

  She didn’t bother to remind him that her tires had been slit while she was at her grandmother’s, surrounded by people. Instead she said, “I can’t afford it and you are not paying for it. Besides, I’d have to check with my land-lords before installing something like that on their property.”

  “But—”

  “No buts; case closed.” Skye gave him a stern look.

  He finally broke eye contact. “Maybe later then. Now, what’s wrong with your love life?” Charlie drew himself up to his full height. “If Simon is pressuring you, I can take care of that.”

  “Thanks, but that won’t be necessary.” Skye debated whether to confide in Charlie. “The thing is, he’s a lot more certain about his feelings than I am about mine. He wants our relationship to be more intimate and committed. I’m just not sure what I want yet.”

  To her surprise, Charlie didn’t yell at her for blowing her chance at an eligible bachelor. Instead he said, “Is there someone else?”

  Skye shrugged, her cheeks reddened. “Maybe. No. I don’t know.”

  “Keep seeing Simon as long as he’s willing to stick to your terms. When he’s not willing anymore, then you’ll have to decide.”

  “Skye, yoo-hoo Skye, over here.” A loud, demanding voice rang out when Skye reentered the parish hall looking for her parents.

  Mona was sitting with her husband and Father Burns.

  “Yes, Aunt Mona?” Skye presented herself at their table.

  “Sit down, dear. Neal and Father want to talk to you.” Mona gestured to a chair opposite them.

  “You know, I was just looking for my folks. Maybe we could chat later.”

  “This will only take a few moments.” Mona’s voice was lined with steel.

  Sighing, Skye complied with her aunt’s demand. “Yes, Father? Uncle Neal?”

  A pained expression crossed the priest’s face. “Skye, it really could wait, but I’m afraid your aunt and uncle are quite persuasive.”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “It’s about you joining the church’s Young Advocates group.”

  “I’ve never heard of them.”

  Father Burns’ opened his mouth to explain further, but before he could speak a voice screamed, echoing across the dining area. “Help! Help! Mom’s dying.”

  CHAPTER 16

  See, Saw, May’s Law

  Stunned silence filled the church hall. Ginger appeared at the entrance of the banquet room, crying, and Father Burns headed toward her. As Skye ran after the priest, she yelled to Neal, “Call 911.”

  Mona followed Skye toward the ladies’ room, but edged in front of her at the door. Skye stepped over the threshold just in time to see Mona shove Gillian aside and bend over Minnie’s body.

  Water dripped from the pipe under the sink, making the gray tile floor appear slimy. The smell of ammonia and mold was overpowering. Minnie lay facedown with her arms over her head but bent at the elbow. Her flowered dress had crept up, revealing a white slip and gartered hose. Small blue pills were strewn near her head and hands.

  Skye tried to kneel beside her aunt. “I’ve had first aid training; let me take a look.”

  Mona thrust her away. “Haven’t you done enough? This is all your fault.”

  “Huh?” Skye rocked back on her heels, nearly falling. “What are you talking about?”

  “If you hadn’t been grilling Mona yesterday, she wouldn’t have tried to kill herself today.”

  Gillian shouldered her aunt aside. “What are you saying? Mom didn’t try to commit suicide.”

  Mona
put an arm around her niece and pointed with the other hand. “See those pills?”

  All three women stared at the tiny blue tablets scattered near Minnie’s hand.

  Skye parked the Buick outside the police station, but made no move to get out of the vehicle. Pictures of Minnie lying on the bathroom floor played in an endless loop in her head. Even her morning swim hadn’t been able to distract her from that memory. Intellectually she knew that no one could cause another person to kill herself. But emotionally, she was having difficulty believing it. And even if she wasn’t the cause, she should have been able to see how desperately unhappy her aunt was, and insisted that she get help.

  She finally forced herself out of the car and went into the building. The portable radio on a shelf behind May’s head blared out a baseball game. When Skye entered, the sportscaster was announcing the score: “Cubs 2, Brewers 11.”

  May’s shoulders sagged and she turned the volume down.

  To her mother’s back Skye said, “You know, Mom, rooting for the Cubs is like rooting for Bangladesh in a food fight.”

  “I told you not to come here.” May didn’t turn around or react to Skye’s joke.

  “Don’t be mad, Mom. I really need to talk to you.” Skye reached to buzz herself past the locked door.

  “Stop that.” May slapped her hand away from the button. “Go home and quit causing trouble. I’m not mad. I’m hurt that you could think those awful things about my brother and sisters.”

  “I’m sorry.” Skye tried once again to release the door lock.

  “Fine, go home and mind your own business.” May kept a wary eye on the latch.

  “I can’t. I can’t let the killer get away with it. Is that what you want?”

  “Maybe.” A tear rolled down May’s cheek. “Remember, we are talking about my brother and sisters. Remember how you felt last year when Vince was accused of murder.”

  “I am sorry, Mom.” Skye tried to hug her but the counter between them was too wide.

  Wiping away the drop, May said, “Then quit bothering everyone. Let Wally handle the investigation.”

  “He’s happy I’m helping.”

  “Wally can figure it out without you.” May paused to answer a call, then continued. “He seemed real excited when he got the toxicology results this morning.”

  “Oh?” Skye hoped her mother would elaborate.

  “Yeah, seems they figured out what the poison was.” May made a note in the log.

  “And?” Skye tried to keep her voice even.

  “Well, he didn’t tell me what it was.”

  “But you peeked at the report, didn’t you?” Skye tried to sound as if she didn’t care about the answer.

  “I might have noticed something when I was doing some other filing.”

  “So?”

  “Something like ‘jack trophy kirk’s ass.’ I can’t pronounce it.”

  “Why did it take so long to find out the type of poison? The autopsy has been done for days.”

  “It has something to do with how many kinds of poisons there are to check for, how long the tests themselves take, and how much of a priority our sample is—” May was interrupted once again by the phone.

  Skye took the opportunity presented by May’s distraction to make a note of the toxin so she could try to look it up at the library later.

  May hung up and turned back to Skye. “That was Gillian. The doctors have decided to keep Minnie in the hospital for a while.”

  “But I thought she was okay after they pumped her stomach last night.”

  “Minnie refuses to admit she took the pills. She says she did not try to commit suicide. So they’re keeping her for psychiatric observation.” May uttered the last two words with great difficulty.

  The women were silent for a while. The only noise in the station was the static of the radios.

  Finally, Skye said, “You know, Mom, it’s possible Aunt Minnie killed Grandma, and then couldn’t stand the guilt, so she tried to kill herself.”

  Tears overflowed May’s eyes. “I’m afraid that’s what everyone is going to think, but I just can’t picture Minnie being able to do it.”

  “I know what you mean. She’s usually so indecisive. But if she’s emotionally disturbed, who knows what she’s capable of doing?” Skye handed her mother a tissue.

  “Going through the change has been real rough on her, ’cause she won’t take the medicine her doctor gave her. I’ve been begging her to at least take the capsules to help her sleep, but she refuses to take anything at all.” May paused, then added softly, “I guess she took those sleeping pills yesterday though.”

  “The twins told me she didn’t want to take drugs.” Skye’s face took on a faraway expression.

  “What are you thinking?” May asked. “You look as confused as a cow on AstroTurf.”

  “If she wouldn’t take hormones for her menopausal symptoms, would she take pills to commit suicide?”

  May stood up. “No. She’s always hated taking medicine. She usually wouldn’t even fill the prescriptions.”

  “Mom, this could mean that Aunt Minnie is telling the truth. Maybe she didn’t try to kill herself. Maybe someone tried to kill her.”

  “Who would want to kill Minnie?” May sat back down.

  “The same person who murdered Grandma. The real killer could be trying to throw suspicion on Minnie.” Skye was scribbling furiously in her notebook. “Call Wally right now. He’s got to get Aunt Minnie some protection, or the next time she might not make it.”

  Skye and May sat across from the police chief in the combination coffee and interrogation room. Both women had told their stories, and he was now asking questions.

  “Let me get this straight. You think Minnie did not attempt suicide? Instead you think someone tried to kill her?”

  “Well, either tried to kill her or make her look like Grandma’s murderer.” Skye flipped open her notebook. “I’ve tried to put my reasons in order.”

  Wally made a go-ahead gesture with his hand.

  “Okay. First, this is a woman who will not take medicine. She feels that all drugs are bad. Even ones her doctors tell her to take.” Wally opened his mouth, but Skye continued. “Also, she says she didn’t take them. I’ve heard of people claiming an attempt was an accident, but not denying any part of it.”

  “Look, it’s just as possible she overcame her dislike of pills and is embarrassed to admit it.” Wally looked at each woman in turn. “Isn’t it?”

  “Anything’s possible,” Skye answered for both of them. “Did they find the bottle when they searched the church bathroom?”

  “No.” Wally looked through the file. “No container on the scene or on her person.”

  “Don’t you find that odd?” Skye asked. “What did she do, carry the pills loose in her purse?”

  He shrugged.

  “Another thing, when they pumped her stomach, could they tell if she had swallowed the pills whole, or were they added to something she ate or drank?” Skye paused and thought. “Too bad all the dishes will have been washed or disposed of since yesterday.”

  “Okay, I’ll check into it, but I can’t afford to have someone guard her door until we have more evidence.” Wally wrote in his own notebook. “The best I can do is let the hospital know to keep an eye out.”

  Skye stopped herself from making a sarcastic comment about closing the barn door when it was too late to do any good. “One more thing.”

  He was already walking down the hall.

  “Could you make sure the hospital doesn’t let anyone visit her unaccompanied?” Skye yelled.

  His voice floated back. “Yeah, fine, okay.”

  Skye turned to her mom. “Do you still want me to quit bothering everyone with my questions?” When May didn’t answer, Skye added, “If the murderer isn’t found soon, he may go after Aunt Minnie again.”

  “Maybe, but I’m worried that if you keep poking your nose in where it doesn’t belong, you might be next.”


  Looking around at the chaos inside her cottage Skye could almost believe it had been vandalized again, except she knew she had done it all herself. Bingo didn’t seem to care. He was nestled among the dirty clothes spilling from the overfull hamper.

  After changing to old jean shorts and a ragged T-shirt, Skye started in on the mess. First, she stripped the bed and dumped the sheets in the washer. Remaking the bed with fresh linens was a challenge due to Bingo’s desire to play hide-and-seek among the covers.

  Next, she sorted laundry and cleaned the bathrooms. Bingo followed her every move, appearing to think she was a giant mouse he was stalking.

  Since Skye rarely cooked, the kitchen took only a few minutes to wipe down. This left the great room. She was looking for the furniture polish when the doorbell rang.

  Bingo beat her to the entry and was pacing impatiently when she arrived. Peeking through the side window, Skye groaned.

  She reluctantly opened the door. “Hi, Simon. Sorry I’m such a mess. I was just cleaning. You look awfully spiffy for a Thursday afternoon.”

  “Thanks, I’ve got a funeral at one. I thought maybe you’d be free for lunch now that school’s out.” Simon walked into the foyer.

  “Gee, I’d love to but, as I said, I’m hardly dressed to go out.” Skye led the way into the great room.

  “Well, I’m sure no one at McDonald’s would mind how you’re dressed.” Simon sat beside her on the couch.

  “How about I make us salad and soup right here?”

  “I’d really like to take you out, but if that’s your best offer, I accept.” Simon loosened his tie, took off his suit jacket, and scooted closer to her.

  “Ah, good, just let me wash up a little, and I’ll get started on lunch.” Skye retreated into her bedroom and firmly closed the door.

  She reemerged in ten minutes, having washed her face, changed tops, and combed her hair. Simon was in the kitchen, looking into an open cupboard. Bingo was twining around his legs, meowing.