Sarah studied Milton's face. The man was sincere. “I'm listening.”
Milton shrugged his shoulders. “Pop went through some hard battles with his platoon and they were pretty close calls. During one bad firefight, he ended up taking a shot in the gut. Ma said he wouldn’t talk about exactly how it happened, but one of his buddies said that he was trying to save someone’s life that day. Until he got shot, that is. Anyway, they barely got him out to a field hospital in time to save his life. He lived, of course, but after that his days as a soldier were over. My Ma knew him a little before the war, too, and she always said that he came back a little different. It wasn’t just the scar on his stomach – he had scars in his mind, too. ‘Too many scars to count,’ she always said.”
Sarah made a few notes about Milton’s story before she continued. “Do you believe it's possible that your father, such an experienced hunter, became lost and died from exposure?” she asked Milton in a careful voice.
“What else could it have been?” He paused and looked at her. “You're asking me if I believe my old man was murdered, right, doll face?” He grimaced.
“Well, yes,” Sarah said.
“Because that explains why all of Pop's kids and that wife of his raced up here to claim the body, right? To get his money, right? And,” Milton added, a little agitated, “you're probably thinking one of us – if not all of us – are involved in Pop's death somehow.” He took a breath and stared down at his hands.
“Possibly.”
“Hey, if I were in your shoes I'd be sticking my belly under the hot bulb, too,” Milton smiled apologetically at Sarah. “It's pretty obvious that there's some gold diggers among us, including me. I want Pop's money...well, some of it, at least. But not for the reason you think.”
“Oh?” Sarah asked.
Milton relaxed and leaned back in the chair. “Pop lined me up real nice through the years. I get twenty thousand a month to live off of...for life. I live a very comfortable life. Let’s just say money isn’t an issue, hot stuff.”
Sarah smiled a little. Being called 'hot stuff' amused her. “Then why do you want your father’s money?”
“Because Pop deserves better,” Milton said in a serious voice. His face became stern as he leaned in closer. “Listen and listen close, okay?”
“Okay.”
“This ain’t common knowledge, doll. You have to know this, though. Natalie, Chet and me, we're all adopted. Ma and Pop could never have any natural kids. But not one time did that man ever treat us like charity cases – we were his true children in every way. Pop spoiled every last one of us kids to no end.” Milton’s smile then faded and he shook his head in disgust. “But Natalie, that woman...she never loved Pop the way we boys did. I don’t know why, but she’s been like that since she was a little kid. She always ran her mouth, never satisfied, never happy. And when she grew up she had not a single good word to say about him and did everything in her power to hurt him. Even with all the money and support he lavished on her, on all of us! She played with his moods, too. It was like a game for her, seeing how she could hurt him, and what she could get out of it. Usually money. If it wasn't for Chet and me, Pop would have taken some hard hits because of her vendetta. And now that Pop's gone, Chet and me are going to make sure Natalie doesn't get a dollar more, not one red cent. We can't stop her from getting her money from the trust Pop set up for her, the one that pays out monthly, but we can sure sue to get her out of the will.”
“You and your brother Chet are close, I take it?”
“Like this,” Milton said and crossed his fingers together. “Chet and I have always had each other's backs.”
“But you both disliked your father’s wife, right?” Sarah asked. “Your stepmother, technically?”
Milton leaned back in his chair. “I never called her that once in my life. Charlene is a backstabbing, ugly soul trapped in a scrawny twig body that ought to be snapped in half. She doesn’t deserve to be in the will any more than Natalie does.”
Sarah could see the pain written clearly on his face. “Why did your father marry her?”
“Out of a sense of duty,” Milton explained. “You see, Pop served with Charlene's grandfather during the war. The two of them were real buddies, you know.” Milton shook his head. “Pop always had a tender heart even though he was moody as a cat in a mud puddle. Anyhow, when Pop's buddy died, Pop made a promise to watch after his son.”
“Mr. Nelton, the grocery store owner.”
Milton nodded his head. “Pop's buddy started the original grocery store and his son took the ball and ran with it. He's a nice enough guy, I guess. A little too Country Club for my taste, but that's none of my business.”
“So how did he go from watching over Mr. Nelton to marrying Mr. Nelton’s daughter? I can’t believe that many fathers would have approved of that marriage. She must have been less than half his age. Did Mr. Nelton approve?”
“No way,” Milton burst out. “Like I said, the man is hungry for the good life, but he's decent enough. He was against Charlene marrying Pop from the beginning. But Charlene, that money hungry tick, lied to Pop.”
“How so?”
Milton looked over his shoulder and then focused back on Sarah's pretty face. “She made him believe that marriage was the only way to support the granddaughter of his war buddy, if you can believe that. She told Pop that Mr. Nelton was dying of cancer and was leaving all of his money to some charity for animals.”
“And Mr. Hopski believed her?”
“Why wouldn't he? Unfortunately, Charlene and her old man were always at each other's throats. Like nothing you've ever seen, doll face. It's likely the man was planning to cut his daughter out of his will, who knows, but she had her sob story ready to go and Pop was taken in, hook, line and sinker. Pop was tied to that promise he made to his old war buddy and decided he had to uphold that promise by marrying Charlene.”
Sarah shook her head, trying to comprehend the crazy lives of these rich people. “Why didn't your father simply create a monthly trust fund for her?”
“Because,” Milton said in a disgusted tone, “they were in love. Or so he thought. You see, Charlene greased Pop with romance and lies,” he told Sarah. “You have to keep in mind, Pop was moody. One day he could be the nicest guy in the world, the next a big cry baby and the next day meaner than a bear. Charlene worked her way into his life on the days Pop's emotions were vulnerable.” He shook his head in resignation.
Sarah folded her arms. “I see,” she said. “Natalie and Charlene were in here earlier. Seems like they don't like each other, either.”
Milton's hard face relaxed. He grinned. “That's the card those two cats are playing. I know better,” he said, tapping one finger on his temple.
Sarah realized she was liking Milton more by the minute. “But why? Do you think they are working together to steal your father’s money?”
“Yeah, I do, doll face. And then, when Pop's money is grabbed up, those two cats will probably go twelve rounds with each other and come out bloodier than a butcher shop.” Milton tossed a thumb at the office door. “After all, doll face, who do you think taught Charlene how to play Pop like a fiddle?”
Sarah looked at the office door, thinking. “Milton, maybe we will have dinner one night,” she smiled.
He winked at her and smiled a little sadly. “But as friends, right? No romance?”
“Sorry,” Sarah smiled at Milton.
“Hey, doll face, friends with a diamond like yourself is better than getting a piece of hard coal dropped in the old boiler.” Milton stood up. “Chet wasn't too far behind me getting into town. I know he'll want to talk to you alone. And,” Milton stretched his arms, “I'm ready for a few winks. I'm staying at your local lodge, doll face. Give me a call when Pop's autopsy report comes back and whatever you do, do me a favor. Don't give out the results to Natalie and Charlene without me and Chet present.”
“Deal,” Sarah agreed. She stood up and walked Milton to the offi
ce door with a smile. “There's a diner down the street that has good food.”
Milton donned his fedora hat and rubbed his belly greedily. “A little grub before a nap wouldn't hurt.” He winked at Sarah one last time as he left the office.
Seconds later, Andrew and Amanda peeked around the door and then sheepishly came back in. “You two should be ashamed of yourselves,” Sarah scolded her friends.
“So, what did Al Capone have to say?” Andrew said with a chuckle. But he couldn’t suppress his laughter, and then Amanda joined in.
“Al Capone...good one,” Amanda clapped Andrew on the shoulder. “Oh dear...wait until my hubby hears about this.”
Sarah couldn't hold back her smile. Milton did resemble a little mobster, she had to admit. “Well, as it turns out, he's actually quite a nice, normal guy, once you get to know him.”
“Truly?” Andrew asked and tried to dry up his laughter. “Oh, well. I thought he’d never leave.”
Sarah sighed, wondering how to convey the wealth of information she had just learned from Milton. She shook her head just as the office door opened and Chet Hopski appeared. This time she did not wait and ushered Andrew and Amanda unceremoniously out the door as she greeted the newest visitor. “Mr. Chet Hopski?”
A tall man wearing a gray and blue striped suit stepped into the office, ducking his head a little. The poor man was so tall he barely fit through the door frame. Like his adopted brother, he too had a portly stomach, but he was so tall that his bulk seemed to be spread out all over. Chet was not a handsome man. His face was pale and very jowly, with a deep double chin, and the unfortunate gray toupee that sat slightly crooked on his head didn't help matters any. Yet, Sarah saw intelligence – a brilliant intelligence – in the man's sharp, dark blue eyes; an intelligence hidden from a judgmental world. “Detective Garland?” he asked in a dull, almost slow voice that held none of the comical wit she had heard from Milton. “Nice to meet you.” They shook hands briefly.
“Yes,” Sarah said and smiled. “Please, Mr. Hopski, sit down.”
“I'll stand,” Chet said dryly, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “I met my brother outside. I'm about to join him for a bite to eat. I wanted to introduce myself first.”
“I'm very sorry for your loss, Mr. Hopski.”
“Thank you,” Chet acknowledged, his dry voice not betraying much emotion. “Daddy lived a long life. I'm just grateful his body was found so he can have a decent Christian burial back home.”
Sarah nodded her head. “Of course. Mr. Hopski, do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions before you go?”
“Of course. That's your job.”
“Do you believe your father was killed?” Sarah cut right to the chase.
“It's possible,” Chet nodded his head and then withdrew a gray handkerchief from the right pocket of his jacket and blew his nose with a dry honking sound. “Natalie and Charlene have wanted Daddy dead for a long time.”
“And you think they may be behind Mr. Hopski's death?”
“Daddy was a good hunter. He wouldn't have gotten himself lost in the woods,” Chet replied and returned the handkerchief to his pocket. “Daddy was a good hunter,” he said again. Chet looked down at his feet with sad eyes. “Daddy didn't ever get lost in the woods.”
“I see,” Sarah said. “Mr. Hopski, is your wife with you?”
Chet shook his head no. “Teresa stayed in Los Angeles.” Chet raised his eyes and looked at Sarah. “Teresa doesn’t like to fly. Teresa doesn’t like dealing with airplanes, you know.” He shifted on his feet. “She’s...you know...large, like me. On airplanes, people can be so insensitive, insulting you when they think you can’t hear. Or even when you can. Like my late father’s wife.” He looked out the window as if checking to see if perhaps Charlene was listening in on his confession.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Hopski,” Sarah told Chet. “People can be so cruel and mean. It’s especially cruel to have to suffer that treatment from your own stepmother. It's love that matters the most. If you and your wife love each other, then that makes you both the richest people in the world.”
Chet nodded his head. Even though his face remained impassive, his eyes smiled. “I'm very blessed,” he admitted. “Well, I better go. Milton is waiting for me.”
Sarah smiled, feeling an immediate affection for Chet. “I'll be in touch, Mr. Hopski. Please, enjoy your meal.”
“I will,” Chet said and turned to go. He paused at the office door and looked back at Sarah. “You were a good cop in Los Angeles,” he said simply. “I read about you.” There was that smile of recognition in his eyes again. Then he ducked through the doorway again and left.
“So, he knows who I am,” Sarah smiled in surprise.
When Andrew and Amanda stuck their heads back in the office, Sarah pointed her finger at them. “You two.”
Andrew cleared his throat. “Yes, I...uh, not very professional.”
“Sorry, partner,” Amanda quickly apologized. “So, what did Mr. Big and Tall have to say about—” Amanda couldn't finish her joke. She broke out laughing. Andrew bit down on his lower lip and then joined in.
“While you two were busy being juvenile, I learned some interesting information from Chet Hopski, who seems to be a very decent man,” Sarah scolded Amanda and Andrew. “I’m going to go make some copies. And I’m making a report to Conrad about your unprofessionalism, Andrew.” As she exited the office with her case file, Andrew sputtered and followed her into the hall, trying to excuse his behavior again.
“Oh dear, what a day,” Amanda said as she leaned against the wall in the hallway, watching Andrew following Sarah down the hall like a puppy with his tail between his legs.
***
“So, what’s the plan?” Andrew asked Sarah after they had all returned to the office. He sat down in his chair and waited for Sarah as she reviewed her notes quickly. Outside, a soft and gentle rain began to fall, drifting into a beautiful spring evening.
Sarah listened to the rain fall and gathered her thoughts before speaking. Amanda sat down next to her, taking a bite from her candy bar. “For starters, I need some coffee. Do you have any cups?” Sarah spoke and pointed at the green thermos she had taken out of her bag and perched on the edge of Andrew's desk.
“Sure,” Andrew smiled. “Let me go down the hall and get some cups.”
Sarah waited until Andrew left the office before speaking. She turned to Amanda and looked at her friend demolishing the candy bar. “I believe our bad guys are Natalie and Charlene. But something tells me, deep down in my gut, there could be more people lurking in the shadows.”
“So the midget and fat man...I mean, Milton and Chet...are in the clear, then?” Sarah nodded as Amanda polished off the candy bar. She tossed the wrapper in a trash can beside Andrew's desk. “Nothing like some chocolate to make a woman feel ready to tackle a problem,” she said with satisfaction. Amanda walked over to the office window, pulled the blinds to one side, and peeked out into the rain. “Lovely.”
Sarah listened to the rain fall. She felt its beauty as if she was in it, with the rain droplets falling through lush, green tree limbs, landing on the rich loamy soil that was slowly defrosting after the long, harsh, winter. She only hoped that this case would resolve itself soon so she could get back to enjoying the delicate beauty of the Alaska spring. She turned to Amanda. “June Bug, I know Natalie Hopski and Charlene Nelton look like a couple of circus rejects – and they fight like a couple of wet cats – but they are dangerous. Both of those women are after Mr. Hopski's fortune and for all we know they might be willing to kill to achieve their goal.”
Amanda turned away from the window and looked at her best friend. “I had a bad feeling you were going to say those very words, love,” she said and shook her head. “I admit that Natalie Hopski put a sour taste in my mouth.”
Sarah nodded her head. “We’ll have to wait until we can question her further. Meanwhile, from what I learned, Mr. Hopski fought in World War II.” Sarah
rubbed her chin. “He may have been traumatized by it, according to Milton, but the main point is that the poor man did fight in the war and gained valuable skills and experience that helped him become an expert hunter. He wasn’t just some rich man who liked to go traipsing into the wilderness with a gun.”
“What you're trying to relay to me, love, is that you don't think the old man accidentally got lost in the woods and froze to death,” Amanda said.
“It’s looking less and less likely.” Sarah thought back to her conversations as she skimmed her notes again. “Andrew stated that the body...I mean, Mr. Hopski—”
“Thank you, love.”
“—Mr. Hopski was found lying in a manner that appeared to indicate that he became lost and froze to death,” Sarah continued. “An empty canteen, an empty pack of jerky, all evidence that would point to a person who had consumed their resources while trying to find their way back somewhere. Surely no skilled hunter would travel with just a packet of jerky. He must have been trying to find his way back to a camp. Which leads me to wonder, where was he camped?”
“Ah,” Amanda said, “now there is a great question! I'm learning from a very brilliant detective.”
“I'm not brilliant,” Sarah assured Amanda in a humble voice. “A good detective will simply utilize logic and the process of elimination to make practical conclusions.”
“Modest, too,” Amanda grinned. “Love, you caught a deadly serial killer while you worked the streets in Los Angeles.”
Sarah blushed. “Having some brains helps,” she admitted and stood up to hide her embarrassment. “June Bug, I need to know more before I can draw any definite conclusions, but my gut is telling me the man was murdered, which makes me wonder about his will.”
Spring into Murder (Alaska Cozy Mystery Book 5) Page 5