The Travelling Detective: Boxed Set

by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

  “Cindy, please stop.” Brian held his head.

  Cindy took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “But how about you tell me everything, and especially why we are really here?”

  “The letter was from Betty Altman,” Brian began. “She’d decided it was time to tell me the name of the town where my father had gone.”

  “Why now, after all these years?”

  “She found out she had cancer. She was dying.”

  “Oh.” Cindy digested that. “Why didn’t you tell me about the letter?”

  “Because I wasn’t sure I wanted to do anything about what she’d told me.” He sat on the bed beside her.

  “But I thought the reason you left her and that small town in Ontario was because you wanted to find him.”

  “It was. But now I have you and I didn’t know how this would affect our lives.”

  “Are you going to tell me what’s in the letter?”

  “You can read it for yourself.” Brian pulled the well-worn envelope out of his pocket. He took the sheet of paper from it and handed it to Cindy. She rolled onto her back and held it up. He waited.

  “So, I now have a great-grandmother and a grandfather in or near Fort Macleod,” Cindy said, handing the letter back to him. “My grandfather’s name is Allen Sinclair and my great-grandmother’s name is, or was, Harriet Douglas. Is that why we had to go to the cemetery the first day and why you’ve been at the library?”

  “Yes.” Brian ran his fingers through his remaining hair. “I’ve looked for gravestones, read a history book put together by the residents of the area, looked for anything with their names on it, and I haven’t found one item. I’ve even asked questions at the tourist information centre and around town. No one has heard of them.”

  “It could mean that they moved away.” She stood up.

  “Yes. Plus, most of the women are referred to as Mrs. John So-and-So or Mrs. Peter So-and-So. Of the few whose first names were given, none was a Harriet.”

  “What took you so long to decide to finally come here?”

  “Just the thought that I might find my father made my stomach churn. One minute, I’d be all excited about seeing him, and the next I’d be angry again that he left me. And I was afraid of whom he might be and if he would upset the life I have now. The most important person to me is you and I don’t want to jeopardize that.”

  “I’m sure everything will be fine, Dad,” she said awkwardly

  Brian stood and pulled Cindy into his arms. “I love you, sweetheart.”

  She relented and hugged him back. “I know, Dad. But from now on, no secrets. It’s a blow to the system to learn that I almost had a sister and now have a grandfather and possibly a great-grandmother.”

  “I know and I’m sorry.”

  * * * *

  Elizabeth softly closed her door, a little contrite that she had so brazenly invaded their privacy. She had been on her way downstairs to breakfast and to find out what decisions had been made overnight. Were Brian and Cindy going to check out and find another place to stay? What was Peggy going to do now that Harry was back? Were Al and Shirley going to close the B&B until after this mess was cleared up? She’d opened her door and heard voices coming from Brian’s room. She wasn’t proud of it, but instead of going down the stairs, she’d paused and listened to what they were saying.

  So Brian was looking for his father and grandmother. Maybe there was another mystery here. And the name Harriet rang a bell. She was certain she had heard it mentioned recently. She shook her head. It would come to her.

  Elizabeth opened her door noisily this time and went down the stairs. Frances Etherington had her cup of black coffee in front of her and Hugh was eating. Reverend Raymond was nowhere in sight. No one acted as hostess this morning. There was cereal and fruit on the sideboard, nothing like the lavish breakfasts of the past few days. The Sinclairs came down just as she was finishing.

  After breakfast Elizabeth went to her vehicle and found the bag of brochures and pamphlets she’d been saving. She didn’t have any trips to do for the day, so she thought she would go through them and see if there was something or someplace she might have missed.

  She headed upstairs and entered the new information about the suspected buried body and Harry’s return into her laptop. She wondered if it would affect the digging that was going on at the acreage. If the man in the tank wasn’t Harry, then Julia probably wasn’t buried there either.

  When she was done she began sifting through the brochures and pieces of paper that she’d written information on. She began organizing them into the order that the article would be written. Near the bottom she came across the paper on which she’d written the name “Elvina Thomas” the day Corrine had introduced her to the Davidsons. Maybe she could visit her and at least feel as if she’d accomplished something this afternoon. She went downstairs to ask Peggy where she lived.

  As usual Elizabeth just went to the kitchen. This morning Dick was sitting at the table having coffee with them. They all looked up at her.

  “Excuse me, Peggy. Could you tell me where Elvina Thomas lives?”

  “What do you want with her?”

  “I’ve been told she knows a lot of history. I’d like to go see her.”

  “She lives in a nursing home in Lethbridge,” Peggy replied.

  “Oh.” She could have seen her while she was there. Oh, well, she’d be going through again on her way to Medicine Hat.

  “I’m going into Lethbridge to stock up on supplies this afternoon,” Shirley said. “If you’d like to come with me, I’ll introduce you to Elvina.”

  “Sure, that would be wonderful.” What a lucky break but she was astounded that Shirley was acting so normal after what had taken place over the past few days. “What time?”

  “About one o’clock, okay?”

  “I’ll be looking after Stormie so I can take care of Chevy too while you go with Shirley,” Peggy offered.

  “You always seem to be looking after Chevy,” Elizabeth said, a little ashamed.

  “He’s a pleasure to have around and Stormie certainly likes playing with him.”

  “Thank you,” Elizabeth said. “It would save me from worrying about him being in a hot vehicle.”

  * * * *

  The television and newspaper reporters were out in full force in front of the house. They stood at the drive yelling questions and thrusting their microphones at the windows. Shirley ignored them as she drove slowly through the swarm.

  “It seems like it’s never going to end.” Shirley sounded as if she was on the verge of tears.

  “Something new is always happening,” Elizabeth agreed.

  The trucks and equipment were gone from the acreage, leaving behind large piles of dirt.

  “I wonder if they found anything,” Elizabeth said.

  “If they did it will certainly be on the news and in the papers.” Shirley paused. “You heard that they aren’t going ahead with the hog barn, haven’t you?”

  That’s what Hugh meant when he’d said it was suspended. “Yes, but I never heard why.”

  “According to the Etheringtons, it’s got something to do with the price of hogs right now.”

  So they did know who their guests were. “When did they tell you?”

  “Yesterday, when they returned. They checked out this morning.”

  “They’ve left?” she asked.

  Shirley nodded.

  It seemed almost ironic that now, after everything the people of this area had done, unsuccessfully, to try and prevent the hog barn being built, it was being put on hold.

  The rest of the drive to Lethbridge was mainly quiet. Shirley did explain that she bought her perishable food in Fort Macleod but things like canned goods and baking supplies she purchased in bulk in Lethbridge. She was going in now because she hadn’t been there for two weeks and really needed to restock.

  Shirley showed her the mini mall where the wholesaler was located. “It’s only three blocks to the nursing
home so if you are finished before I am you can walk back here,” she said.

  They stopped in front of a long, brown brick building. Elizabeth followed Shirley down a hallway to room 114 where she knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” a spidery voice called.

  They entered a large, square room. An elderly woman sat on a loveseat doing some needlework. Across from her was a small entertainment centre with a television, radio, and some knickknacks on it. The walls were covered with photographs and pictures. A small table and two chairs sat in one corner.

  “Hi, Elvina,” Shirley said.

  Elvina looked momentarily confused.

  “It’s Shirley, Peggy Wilson’s daughter,”

  Elvina smiled. “Well, it’s nice to see you. I’ve been hearing about all this skeleton business on television. How is your mother doing?”

  “It’s been hard on her.”

  “Yes, it would be,” she nodded sympathetically.

  “Elvina, this is Elizabeth Oliver.” Shirley deftly changed the subject. “She’s working on an article about the Crowsnest Highway and she’d like to ask you some questions about this area’s history.”

  “Hello, Elizabeth. So, you’re a writer. I’d be pleased to be of help if I can! Come and sit beside me. My hearing is not as good as it used to be.”

  “I’ll see you later,” Shirley said, as she left.

  Elvina got right down to business. “Now tell me all about this article you are writing.”

  Elizabeth marvelled at how easily this woman accepted her, no questions, no doubts. She quickly explained about her writing career and how she wrote travel articles for magazines.

  “And why do you need the history?”

  “I like to include as much information as space will allow. I enjoy visiting a place and learning when and why it was started and what happened as it was growing and, in the case of some towns, why they declined.”

  Elvina went to a cupboard and pulled out some photo albums. “These are pictures of when I was a child. I think explaining the pictures would be just as helpful as telling some stories.”

  Elizabeth set her tape recorder on the table in front of the loveseat. “Would you mind if I recorded this?”

  “Not at all.”

  Although she’d read a lot about the history of Fort Macleod and Lethbridge, seeing Elvina’s old black and white photos gave her a much richer appreciation for the area. She saw how small Fort Macleod had been when Elvina was a child, how dusty the streets were before pavement, and how the one store stocked everything from flour to hammers. She even had pictures of the chickens her mother raised for eating and for eggs to sell to the townspeople.

  Elvina also showed her the picture of her first boyfriend who had been an RCMP officer.

  “Did you marry him?”

  “No. He was transferred to the Yukon and I didn’t want to go. His work was important to him so he went without me. We wrote for a few months, but then he told me he’d met a woman and was going to get married. I wished him well.”

  “But you did marry.”

  “Oh, yes. I married Walter Thomas and we have three wonderful children, seven grandchildren and nine great-grandchildren.”

  “Is he living here with you?”

  “Oh, no. He died eleven years ago. We were married fifty-one years.”

  “What a long time! Did you live in town or on a farm?”

  “We farmed. That’s a picture of our farm site.” She pointed to a photograph on the wall.

  Elizabeth went over to look at it. The picture, taken from above, showed a large two-storey house, a number of well-kept outbuildings and tractors and other equipment. A garden with long rows of vegetables was to one side and there were many colourful flowerbeds.

  Elvina came up behind her. “We owned it for thirty-one years,” she said, wistfully. “I raised chickens every year and put in a big garden.”

  “You must have been sad to let it go, but what a wonderful photograph you have to remember it by. Where did you get it from?”

  “Oh, sometime in the late 1960s an aerial photographer flew over the farms in our community taking pictures. He visited the farmers with five by seven sample photographs of their farms, and asked if they wanted to buy an enlarged framed picture.”

  “That was kind of risky, wasn’t it? Paying for the plane and the film and then hoping the farmers would buy the pictures.”

  Elvina returned to her loveseat. She picked up her needlework, which was a partially finished bouquet of flowers. “Not really. I think most of the farmers bought pictures. Some even bought them for their children. We couldn’t afford to do that until after we sold the farm and then we got one for each of our children.” She squinted at the photo again. “The picture is faded now and even when it was new the colours weren’t quite the same. I think he took black and white pictures and then colour enhanced them before showing them.”

  Elizabeth looked at the rest of the pictures and photographs covering the wall. “Are these all your family?”

  “Yes,” she said with delight. “I have a picture of each and every one of my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.”

  Elizabeth looked at her watch. “Oh, it’s later than I thought. I’d better go and find Shirley. It was very nice meeting you and thank you for your stories.”

  Elvina saw her to the door and waved her goodbye. “Come again, if you get the chance. I’ve got lots more to tell.”

  Elizabeth walked to the mini mall and saw Shirley’s truck still in front of the wholesaler. She went into a convenience store to buy a pop and immediately saw the headlines: HARRY RETURNS FROM GRAVE. Underneath was the subtitle: Who Is The Man In The Septic Tank? Side by side under it were the sketch of the septic tank victim and a picture of a much younger Harry. He had been a handsome man and Elizabeth could see why the women fell for him. She couldn’t tell, though, if he was the man in the photograph on Peggy’s dresser. She bought the paper and headed to the wholesalers.

  Shirley had just finished loading the truck. Elizabeth climbed in the passenger’s side.

  “So, did you learn much?” Shirley asked, as they drove away.

  “Yes. She’s had quite a life.”

  “Did she mention that she and Martha’s mother campaigned for many years to get the museum set up in Fort Macleod?”

  “No. I didn’t even know that she knew Martha or her mother.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard they were friends for a long time. That is until Martha married Warren.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  Shirley shrugged. “I don’t know.” She looked at Elizabeth’s bag. “So what is the headline today?”

  Elizabeth took out the paper and read it to her.

  “They sure don’t miss anything, do they?”

  She shook her head and looked at the sketch. “I wonder who this person is.”

  “Me, too,” Shirley said. “I’d like to know who started all of this. Does it say anything about him?”

  Elizabeth quickly scanned the first couple of paragraphs. “It says that the police still have no clues and are hoping someone will recognize the drawing and contact them. The police are looking for the people who rented the acreage from your mother but are having no luck. The names are listed here in case anyone knows them and their whereabouts.” She put the paperback hoping Shirley wouldn’t ask her anything more. Reading in a moving vehicle made her sick.

  They worked their way through the reporters out front again. Peggy was watching Stormie and Chevy play in the back yard. She picked up Chevy and put her hand on Stormie’s shoulder while Shirley backed up to the door. Elizabeth helped her unload the boxes and put them in the pantry.

  Chapter 17

  It was still afternoon and Elizabeth had nothing to do. She thought about transcribing Elvina’s conversation but decided to leave it until she knew if she could include some of it in her article. She already had more information than she’d be able to use and she still had part of the highway
to do yet.

  Suddenly her decision to stay longer didn’t make sense. The skeleton didn’t belong to Harry or Mike or Julia. It might be days, weeks, months even before the crime was solved. She was just wasting her time. She could stick around to see what kind of misery Harry was going to inflict but it wouldn’t have anything to do with the murder. So, she resolved, if nothing definite happened between now and breakfast tomorrow, she would check out in the morning and head to Medicine Hat. She had enough facts to try a short story or maybe a novel, and she could have it end any way she wanted.

  Elizabeth surveyed her bedroom. There were stacks of brochures on the floor beside the desk. Her bed was unmade and her dirty clothes lay in a pile by the closet. She decided to clean up a little and take her clothes to the Laundromat at the convenience store.

  Once the machines were running she went into the store to buy a pop. She stopped short when she saw Harry talking to Carol. What was he doing here? Trying to renew an old affair? She wondered where he was staying and how long he’d been in town. He certainly knew a lot about what had been happening over the past few days, more than he would have learned from the news. They looked up when she came in, but then went back to their conversation. She could hear it all the way from the back of the store.

  “How did you know where to find me?” Carol asked.

  “You were working here when I left. I doubted that much in your life would have changed.”

  “Well, some things have.”

  “Oh? What?”

  “I own this place now.”

  “You do?”

  Elizabeth could hear the arousal in his voice. It seemed Carol did, too.

  “Don’t get any ideas.”

  “Why not? We had some pretty good times.”

  Carol ignored that. “So, where have you been all these years?”

  “I knew it. You missed me.”

  She snorted. “I doubt it.”

  They didn’t seem to mind that Elizabeth was hearing their little chat and she certainly didn’t mind listening.