The Travelling Detective: Boxed Set

by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

  "When Leslie told me she was pregnant with my grandchild, I was so happy. Even though they weren’t engaged I gave her a locket that my mother had given me when I was pregnant with my son. Then I found out that my husband had been talking with my son, telling him that he was too young to be saddled with having to look after or pay support for a baby. I suggested that we take in the baby and raise it, but my husband blew up saying he didn’t want to be encumbered with a baby either. My son listened to him and broke off their relationship, even going so far as to state that he wasn’t even sure the baby was his. That hurt Leslie’s feelings and I believe that’s why she left."

  "And you’ve never heard from her since."

  Polly shook her head. "I’ve been waiting for the past four years for her whereabouts to be discovered. I never thought she was dead just that she had decided to get away from the boy who hurt her so much."

  "How does your husband feel about you looking for Leslie and the baby?"

  "He didn’t like it at first, but now with our son gone, he’s changed his mind."

  The crowd began to thin as people explained a piece of jewellery their loved one had possessed and were turned away. Some left with a look of hope, while other’s expression was of resignation.

  Polly went up to the desk and described the locket she had given Leslie. The officer behind the desk left for a moment. Polly glanced over at Elizabeth and Sally, a stricken look on her face. When the officer returned Constable Black was with him.

  "Mrs. McNeil, would you come with me, please," Black said. He saw Elizabeth and Sally and his lips formed a thin line.

  "We gave Mrs. McNeil a ride," Elizabeth explained.

  "Doesn’t look good," Sally said, as they watched Polly walk away with the constable.

  "No, it doesn’t," Elizabeth agreed.

  It was half an hour before Polly returned, wiping her eyes. They walked in silence to the Tracker where Chevy waited.

  "It was the locket I gave Leslie," Polly said.

  Elizabeth let her breath out. "So the body belongs to Leslie?"

  "The police aren’t exactly saying that," Polly said. "They still want to wait for the DNA confirmation, which should be back any day now."

  "So really nothing has been settled yet," Sally said.

  "Well, we know that Leslie was here." Polly blew her nose. "And that she probably sold my grandchild to strangers."

  Oh, man, what a terrible thing to have to live with.

  * * *

  The next morning Elizabeth drove Sally to class. "Now make sure you don’t go anywhere until I’m with you," Sally said, getting out of the vehicle."

  "Okay," Elizabeth agreed. "But I don’t think you’re that safe here with Kat Mac and Michael."

  "There are the rest of the students," Sally said. "I’ll make sure I’m always with one of them until you come and get me."

  They had discussed the note after getting back to their suite last night. Sally had opted to stay the rest of the week. “If we continue to be careful, we’ll be okay.”

  After transcribing the tape from the Peak 2 Peak Gondola, Elizabeth changed into the bathing suit and headed to the pool again. She could get used to this, she thought as she laid on the lounge chair. Chevy curled up in his spot under the chair.

  She was tired from the late night and found herself dozing in the warm sun. She heard a noise and quickly opened her eyes. Chevy, who had curled up under the chair, growled. A woman, wearing a two piece bathing suit, stopped in mid stride and stared at the dog. Elizabeth smiled.

  "He’s just a little protective. He won’t do anything unless he thinks I’m in danger." Might was well let people know that he was on guard.

  The woman continued to another chair and sat down. Elizabeth recognized her as Jessica Smallwood. Her daughter was the Penny, Cynthia had met.

  Elizabeth watched and when Jessica didn’t seem to want to talk, she lay back. She didn’t close her eyes this time. Not that she was paranoid but she didn’t want to take a chance. She also decided that she didn’t want to get into the pool either. She’d seen enough crime shows where people were drowned by their attackers. She wasn’t giving anyone a chance to do that.

  Boy, how her attitude had changed about being involved in a murder mystery. In past years she’d thought it was exciting and fun, and never once had she felt afraid. Now she was aware that her actions could affect her well-being.

  She noticed that Jessica kept looking towards the lot next door, not that she could see much because of the bushes. Had she been told about the identification of the necklace last night?

  Elizabeth couldn’t help herself. "I saw you on the news a couple of nights ago. I’m sorry about your daughter."

  Jessica looked at her. She took a bottle of sun tan lotion out of her bag.

  Well, that didn’t work. "My name is Elizabeth Oliver. My friend and I are staying here in the suite on the top floor."

  “I’m on the second floor,” Jessica said, rubbing some lotion on her arms.

  Bonnie’s old room. Beverly sure was doing a booming business because of the body discovered next door. As family members were leaving after finding out the young woman wasn’t related to them, others were showing up to take their place. Did Jessica know the history of the room she was staying in? Elizabeth wasn’t about to tell her.

  “Did the police tell you that the jewellery has been identified?” Elizabeth asked.

  “How do you know so much about it? I was just told this morning.”

  “I went with the woman who identified it.”

  “But it doesn’t prove yet whose body it is.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” Elizabeth nodded. “In the interview, you said that you lived in Vancouver and that Penny went to an abortion clinic there.”

  Jessica looked at her. “Yes. So?”

  “Did Penny know that she would be given the choice of putting her child up for adoption before she went there?”

  “How would she know that?” Jessica demanded.

  “Maybe a friend of a friend told her. Maybe she learned about it on the Internet.”

  “Well, I have no idea.” Jessica put the lotion away.

  “Do you think the body is hers?”

  “You sure are nosy, aren’t you.”

  Elizabeth felt herself blush. “I have been told that,” she admitted. She didn’t say anything about why she was nosy. Instead she gave her another reason. “I have written some articles about true crime. I guess I’m just wondering if your story would make a saleable article.”

  “Would I get paid for it?” Jessica asked. “I’ve heard that some of the magazines offer one hundred thousand dollars for some stories.”

  “I don’t write for those types of magazines,” Elizabeth said.

  “Oh.” Jessica was quiet.

  Elizabeth waited while Jessica made up her mind if she wanted to talk.

  “To answer your question,” Jessica said. “I don’t know if the body is Penny’s yet and I’m not going to put myself though the agony of speculating.” Jessica lay back on the lounge chair and closed her eyes.

  Obviously, she wasn’t worried about someone attacking her. Maybe that’s her way of trying to make me feel comfortable and so I’ll let my guard down. Well, it’s not going to work.

  Elizabeth stood and went into the bed and breakfast. She could enjoy the sun from their balcony without the worry. But she realized that she had lost some of her sense of freedom and that bothered her.

  Instead of sunbathing, Elizabeth dressed and got herself a Pepsi. She sat on the couch. One thing had been nagging at her all morning. There was the chance that Cynthia may have dropped the note off. She seemed to like the idea of hiring a private investigator. And Elizabeth hadn’t made a report to Cynthia, hadn’t seen her for awhile. Maybe Elizabeth wasn’t keeping her in the loop as much as she would like. Maybe she wanted more excitement. Sneaking in here could have given it to her.

  She wanted to go and see Cynthia about the note but ha
d promised Sally that she would stay at the bed and breakfast until time to pick her up. Now was not the time to do anything stupid. She looked at the clock. Still an hour to go. Damn, she didn’t know if it was better to be behind on her research and article or ahead. Being behind meant that she always had something to do with any free time. Of course, she really couldn’t blame her boredom on her finished research. It was the killer in this town that kept her inside.

  She turned on the television and flipped through the channels. Again, she settled on the all news station. As pictures of the crowd at the RCMP detachment last night ran the news anchor was saying. "The piece of jewellery has been identified as belonging to Leslie Borden. She was a young girl who got pregnant by her boyfriend. Her boyfriend’s mother, Polly NcNeil, gave her the necklace. When her boyfriend, Perry, rejected her she left home. She has not been seen since. The police have not confirmed that the body is that of Leslie Borden, though. They are still waiting for the DNA testing."

  "Nothing new there," Elizabeth said. She turned to a comedy show and slouched on the couch watching it.

  At last the time was up. She grabbed Chevy and went out to her vehicle.

  * * *

  Kat Mac began the morning by telling everyone about Bonnie’s murder. “I’m not sure how many of you take the time to watch television so I’m just letting you know that the police now think Bonnie was murdered.”

  Everyone was silent watching her. She looked over the students, nodded, and got on with her lecture. But she didn’t have the usual drive behind her words. It was obvious that the news had affected her especially when, just after the break, she announced that the class was going to end early. She left the room. Everyone rose slowly and gathered their things. They filed out.

  Sally joined her usual group in the lunch room. They were discussing Bonnie’s murder.

  “Didn’t Bonnie ask you to look into her cousin’s murder?” Lisa asked Sally.

  “She thought her cousin had been murdered and she did ask my friend, Elizabeth, and I to see if we could prove it.”

  “Why you two?” Reggie asked.

  “Bonnie found out that Elizabeth has a knack for discovering murderers.”

  “And from what she said on her last day, she seemed convinced that Sylvia had been murdered,” Kirk said. “Do you think her death is connected with Sylvia’s?”

  Sally wasn’t sure how much to say about it. After all, one of these people could be a killer. They had all been there when Bonnie had said she was looking for Sylvia’s murderer. Although, why any of these people, who had been strangers just two weeks ago, would kill her was a mystery in itself. “The police are still saying Sylvia’s death was accidental so I don’t know what to think.”

  “Well, I think we should all be careful,” Reggie said. “It could be that Bonnie’s death had nothing to do with Sylvia’s and something to do with the retreat or our class.”

  “What do you mean?” Lisa gasped.

  Sally felt her nerves tingle. This could be something. She listened to what the others had say.

  Reggie looked around. “I know it sounds silly,” he said, lowering his voice and leaning in. “But Daryl was not happy with the way Bonnie conducted herself here. Maybe his anger got the better of him.”

  “I know he is taking this course very seriously but do you think he’s that obsessed that he would kill her?” Kirk asked.

  Reggie shrugged. “It’s just a thought.”

  “Well, the rest of us have been working hard so if that’s what happened, then we are safe,” Lisa said.

  “And speaking of work,” Kirk said, rising. “I have to get back to my room. See you tomorrow.”

  Lisa stood also. “Yes. I have to finish my costume for Saturday night.”

  That left Sally and Reggie. Sally watched as Daryl and his two buddies, Luke Johnson and Henry Freisen, walked by. They didn’t even look in their direction.

  “Do you believe your theory about Daryl?” Sally asked, when they had left the room.

  “Not really,” Reggie said.

  “So you don’t have anything to base it on?”

  “No, but I don’t want to talk about him. Tell me more about yourself.”

  Sally smiled and told him about her life in Edmonton. Then she listened to a quick rundown of the places he had lived when growing up before his family settled in Hinton. “Now, I work in the town office there as a planner.”

  “Why did you take this retreat?” Sally asked.

  “Like everyone else I want to be a writer. I just don’t know what type yet. So, so far, I’ve taken a mystery writing course, a romance writing course, and a non-fiction writing course.

  Sally grinned. “Are you eliminating them off your Bucket List or waiting to complete this one to decide which genre is right for you?”

  “A bit of both, I guess. I think what I should do is write something and then figure out where it fits.”

  Sally looked at her watch. “Oh, I have to go. My ride is probably outside.”

  Reggie put his hand over hers. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t do anything foolish with this investigation you and your friend are doing.”

  “We won’t,” Sally said, hating that she had to go.

  * * *

  On the way back to the bed and breakfast Sally and Elizabeth saw John out in his yard.

  "Let’s stop and talk with him," Sally said. "I’ve been wondering if he’s experiencing elder abuse."

  Elizabeth parked sideways behind John’s car. She wanted to be able to get out of there fast if his daughter came back. She didn’t trust or like Wendy.

  "Whatever my daughter told you about me isn’t true," John said, when he saw them. "I know she tells people lies about me to keep them away."

  "Why does she do that?" Sally asked.

  John shrugged. "I think she’s afraid I might find someone to start a relationship with and that person will try to take advantage of me because I have money."

  "What happened to your wife?" Elizabeth asked.

  "She died just before I won the lottery." His voice caught. "We’d been picking the same numbers for years and when it finally paid off she wasn’t here to share it with me."

  Elizabeth wasn’t sure how to comfort the man. After what his daughter had said she was afraid to do anything that may be misconstrued as an advance.

  "What types of lies does your daughter tell?" That would take his mind off his late wife.

  "That I’ve make advances to younger women, and that I’m getting dementia and forgetting things or remembering things that didn’t happen."

  "How do you know she says those things?" Sally asked.

  "Because she tells them to me, too.” He looked affronted. “She says that I’ve tried to kiss a neighbour, that I’ve told people things that never happened." He was beginning to get distraught. "I don’t know why she would try to ruin my life like that. People are avoiding me, like I’m a leper or something."

  A van sped up as it came along the road. Elizabeth looked up and saw Wendy glaring at them through the windshield.

  Sally leaned forward. "Does Wendy ever hit you or push you?" she asked quietly.

  John looked shocked. "Oh, no. She’s never hit me."

  "But she doesn’t let you do much and she seems mad when you talk with us."

  "I know.” John bowed his head.

  "John," Sally said quickly. "If you think you are being abused by your daughter, we can help you."

  "What can you do?" John asked dully.

  "We could report her to the authorities. Elder abuse is a crime just like any other abuse."

  The vehicle stopped and Wendy jumped out. "Dad, I told you to stay in the house while I was gone. What are you doing out here?"

  "I wanted to clean the pond again." John’s voice was subdued. "It needs to be done every couple of days."

  Wendy looked at Elizabeth and Sally. "Didn’t I tell you to leave my father alone? He’s not in very good health."

  "Yes, I am,
" John said defensively. "I’m fine."

  "We’re just talking with him," Elizabeth said. "We enjoy his company."

  "I warned you about him and what he does when young women are around."

  "I don’t do anything," John said, his voice rising. "Why do you keep telling people that?"

  "Because it’s true." Wendy grabbed his arm and steered him towards the house. "You just don’t remember." She looked back over her shoulder. "Stay away from him."

  Elizabeth and Sally slowly climbed into the Tracker. "Now what do we do?" Sally asked.

  "We can’t report this until we know which one is telling the truth."

  "Well, I’m opting for John."

  "There is another scenario," Elizabeth said slowly. She hated to mention it because she liked the man. "Maybe Sylvia went for a walk and met John out in his yard just like you did. What if they struck up a conversation and she came back over and over again. What if he thought she was interested in him and he made advances to her. What if she rejected him and in his anger he killed her."

  Elizabeth held her breath letting Sally think it over.

  "How would he get the body to the Upper Village?" Sally asked, sceptically.

  "Maybe he met her there so his daughter wouldn’t know about it."

  "Oh god, I hope that’s not how it happened." Sally groaned. "I just can’t see him doing that, though. He seems so gentle."

  "We should get that picture of Sylvia and take it to him. See what his reaction is."

  "If his daughter will let us."

  Back in their suite Sally went to her bedroom and looked up elder abuse on the Internet. She found the Canadian Network for the Prevention of Elder Abuse, a national non-profit organization.

  "So, what are you learning?" Elizabeth asked, bringing them each a drink.

  "Well, this group wants to make sure the elder people are able to live independently, safely and without fear of abuse, neglect, or exploitation."

  "What do we do if we suspect someone is abused?"

  Sally clicked on Find Help and then on the icon of the province of B.C. The only thing that came up was a map of the province in the upper left hand corner. She went back and then tried again. Still only the map. She tried some sections and was told that the site was under construction. In one, though, they read that the abused person may be ashamed of what their family member was doing to them or they could even be frightened of them.