Madison Johns - Agnes Barton 07 - High Seas Honeymoon

by Madison Johns

  High Seas Honeymoon

  Madison Johns

  Copyright ©2015 Madison Johns

  High Seas Honeymoon Madison Johns

  All rights reserved.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead (unless explicitly noted) is merely coincidental.

  In loving memory of my father, Dale Thayer

  Cover by Susan Coils http://www.coverkicks.com/pre-made.html

  Edited by http://www.ebookeditingpro.com

  Acknowledgement

  I’d like to thank the following readers, Martha Hawk, Patti Kinder Carroll, Lynda Bowles, and Carol Moury Sayres, for taking part in my birthday contest on my Facebook author page. They picked the cause of death for the victims in this book. Thanks for participating and I so appreciate your creative ideas.

  High Seas Honeymoon

  Agnes and Eleanor embark on a honeymoon cruise with their new husbands, Andrew and Mr. Wilson. There are plenty of other Tawas residents along for the ride, although the newlyweds don’t realize this until they set out to sea. But the presence of the locals sets the stage for much drama to unfold …

  For instance, there’s a crime … Agnes and Eleanor find the body of a woman, but wait ... the body disappears before the ship’s security and Captain Hamilton show up. To further complicate matters, there’s a question of whether the woman was even really dead. But none of these details detour Agnes and Eleanor as they hone in on some very goon-like men, Ricky and Leo, to help them get to the bottom of what really happened. Will the women ever be able to figure out what really transpired, or will this be the one case they won't be able to solve?

  Prologue

  I couldn’t help but reflect back on the day I married my Andrew, and Eleanor also married her Mr. Wilson, in a double wedding at the lighthouse on the point in Tawas.

  From the time Eleanor and I woke up that day, we had both hustled into the shower, taking our turns, of course. We stayed in our pajamas until the girls arrived to help us with our wedding dresses, and of course with our hair and makeup.

  “Are the men here yet?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry, they’ll be here,” Elsie said.

  “I know. I guess I’m having the jitters, and I haven’t even written down my vows yet.”

  “Don’t worry, the words will come when you’re ready.”

  I fidgeted with the flower in my hair, and Elsie slapped my hand away with a brush. “Stop it or it will fall out.”

  My daughter Martha popped in, her eyes widening as she stared at me. “Oh, Mother. You’re absolutely to die for.”

  “I’d rather not have dying mentioned today, if you don’t mind.”

  “Oh, of course. The men are downstairs looking quite dashing, too. Just wait until you see Mr. Wilson in his tuxedo. I almost didn’t know it was him.”

  I tried to visualize it, but couldn’t, as my granddaughter Sophia came into the room carrying her baby, Andrea, who then said, “Nana.”

  My eyes widened in surprise. “She’s talking now?”

  “Yes, and she knows her nanas, it would seem. It’s the only other word she’s said besides Dada.”

  “That’s typical for babies. I’m so happy that you’re here, Sophia,” I said, as I hugged her.

  It wasn’t long before the music began playing and the girls disappeared downstairs.

  A minute after they left, Martha escorted us down the stairs that led from the lightkeeper’s quarters of the lighthouse. About halfway down, my eyes met Andrew’s, and my heart warmed. Eleanor whispered, “Doesn’t Mr. Wilson look handsome?”

  “Yes, very.” And that wasn’t a lie because he did. His hair was slicked back, and he had some actual color on his cheeks for a change.

  I didn’t have time to look around much more than that. All my attention was focused on Andrew.

  Martha stood with us until Pastor O’Conner asked who was giving away the brides. “Me,” Martha murmured. “Please take these ladies now,” she said, dabbing at her eyes as laughter filled the room.

  The pastor went through the typical marriage talk until it was time for us to read our vows to one another. Eleanor went first. “Mr. Wilson, you had me at your tuna casserole, really.” Chuckles were heard, but she continued. “Never in my life have I met a man so caring and loving before. I’ll love you all the days of my life, or whatever time we have left on this earth.”

  Mr. Wilson smiled. “I love you, Peaches, and I will until one of us draws their last breath. Thanks for consenting to be my wife, and I’ll treat you like a queen, I promise. It looks like you already have your tiara.”

  “And Andrew?” the pastor asked. “Do you have vows?”

  Andrew smiled as he took my hand. “I’ve loved you longer than you’re aware. When you worked for me in Saginaw all those years ago, I looked forward to seeing you and enjoyed the coffee that you made special just for me. And after you quit, I thought about looking you up, but it never seemed the right time. From that day forward, I told myself that if ever you gave me a chance, I’d never let you go. You did, and I’m the luckiest man in the world. We might have our differences concerning your sleuthing, but I accept you for the beautiful woman that you are and I look forward to growing old together ... or older.” He laughed.

  I gazed deeply into Andrew’s eyes as I began speaking. “What can I say that hasn’t been said? I’m so horrible at this, but I loved you at first sight, when I met you in Saginaw. I was a lonely widow, and you made me feel again, even if you never knew it. I kept my feelings to myself. Just seeing you every day at work was enough for me.” I cleared my throat. “When you came to town, I tried not to feel anything for you, but I couldn’t help myself. I fell in love with you all over again. You’re kind, thoughtful, generous, and very, very loving. Thanks for picking me, my love.”

  The pastor finished speaking, rings were exchanged, and then he said, “Agnes and Andrew, Mr. Wilson and Eleanor, I pronounce you husbands and wives. You may kiss your brides.”

  Andrew took me into his arms, and as we kissed, applause echoed, followed by catcalls. When Andrew and I parted, I could see why. Mr. Wilson and Eleanor were French kissing, and his hands on the cheeks of her generous bottom.

  I cleared my throat, and they parted. Our guests, who were packed tightly in the lighthouse, congratulated us. We left not long afterward amidst a shower of bubbles outside, as the rules said no rice was to be thrown. I gave hugs to my son Stuart, whom I had reconnected with not long ago, and his wife Moraine. When we parted, Stuart shook Andrew’s hand, congratulating us. “It’s your job to keep my mother out of trouble now.”

  “I’ll try, but as you know, this is your mother we’re talking about here.”

  We climbed into Eleanor’s Cadillac, which was decorated with real flowers and tin cans tied to the back of the car, along with a sign that read, “Stand back twenty feet—senior citizens just married.”

  “Is that some kind of joke?” I asked Andrew.

  “Probably Martha’s idea of a joke.”

  We drove all through Tawas, honking the horn as we made it to Iosco Sportsmen’s Club with Sheriff Peterson and Trooper Sales’ squad car following us, with its flashers on and sirens blazing.
r />   Chapter One

  My mind snapped back to present when the fragrance of Andrew’s cologne wafted over to me as I heard him approaching.

  Andrew whistled as he walked into the room, picking up another suitcase, then leaving just as quickly as he had appeared. I’m Agnes Barton and I usually solve crimes in Tawas, Michigan, with my best friend Eleanor Mason. I married Andrew Hart on Christmas Day in a double wedding with Eleanor and Mr. Wilson, who is her new husband. Since it’s winter, we decided to honeymoon out of town, somewhere much warmer. When Andrew first suggested that we go on a cruise, I was a little nervous. I’ve been know to get seasick on occasion and had heard that you still could even on a huge cruise ship, but I didn’t want to tell him no when he had already bought the tickets. Eleanor was over the moon about going on a cruise and Mr. Wilson didn’t care one way or the other.

  I took my cat Duchess over to the Butler Mansion Bed and Breakfast yesterday. Mr. Wilson’s granddaughter Millicent worked there and promised to take care of Duchess while we were on our honeymoon.

  After Andrew had all of our luggage loaded into the car, we locked up and left.

  Andrew squeezed my hand before he started the car, making way for Eleanor’s house to pick up her and Mr. Wilson.

  “Would you quit frowning? You should be excited about leaving for our honeymoon.”

  “I’ve just never been on a cruise is all. I guess I’m just a little nervous about being trapped in a boat for a week.”

  “Don’t worry. It will be fine. Once we get down to Florida, you’ll thank me.”

  I wasn’t so sure, but I smiled all the same. We arrived at Eleanor’s house ten minutes later, and she was waiting for us with her luggage already piled outside.

  “Someone looks ready to go,” Andrew said with a laugh.

  I nodded. “I thought as much. Eleanor hasn’t had the chance to travel all that much. Me either.”

  “Hopefully we’ll have an uneventful honeymoon.”

  “Meaning what exactly?”

  “Without a crime happening that you’ll insist on trying to solve.”

  I laughed. “That doesn’t happen all that much on cruise ships, does it? Of course I’ve seen a few news programs where someone on their honeymoon fell overboard.” I gulped then. “You don’t plan to off me on our honeymoon, do you?”

  “I guess you’ll have to find out when we’re out to high sea.” He winked.

  Andrew got out and put Eleanor and Mr. Wilson’s luggage in the trunk. Waiting until they got in the car, Andrew also put Wilson’s walker in the trunk.

  Then Andrew slid behind the wheel and headed toward the Iosco Count Airport. A young man at the airport helped load the suitcases onto the plane and we soon were all buckled in and the small plane was taxiing down the runway. Once we were airborne, I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn’t mind flying, but in a small plane like this, you felt every turn. It was like being on a roller coaster and it made my stomach do summersaults.

  When we made it to the airport in Detroit, we changed to a larger plane and had to go through the metal detector. Mr. Wilson set off the detector every time.

  “What the hell,” Wilson bellowed. “I don’t have an Uzi up my keister, you know.”

  “Stop it, Mr. Wilson, before they strip search you,” Eleanor said.

  “I’d like to see them try.”

  “Didn’t you tell me you were shot once?” Andrew asked Wilson.

  “That’s it. I have shrapnel in my leg. I completely forgot.”

  Needless to say, they did a strip search of Mr. Wilson and we waited until he came back with a huge smile on his face. “Teach them to strip search me. I made damn sure I farted good and long for them, too.”

  I smiled, but was thankful we were on the airplane without further incident.

  Mr. Wilson and Eleanor were seated next to a dark-skinned man. “Are you—” Wilson asked.

  The man interjected with, “I’m Hispanic.”

  “He’s Hispanic,” Wilson informed us from across the aisle.

  “That’s the politically correct name for Mexican,” I said.

  “Oh,” he said. “Sorry,” he told the man. “It seems I’m out of touch with all these new-fangled words. I try not to offend anyone. It’s like when someone calls me elderly. Hate that word. It’s like someone telling you that you’re incapable of doing anything. I just got married to my Eleanor and I was quite capable on the wedding night, if you catch my drift.”

  The man smiled, obviously not taking offense. “You remind me of my papa. He always says exactly what he’s thinking, too.”

  “There’s no other way to be, in my opinion, but how did you know what I was going to say before I had the chance to say it?”

  “I was searched by airport security after a lady told them I looked suspicious, so I figured others would think I’m a Muslim—not that there is anything wrong with that. I know plenty of nice Muslims.”

  “I was searched, too. I kept setting off the metal detectors and they wouldn’t believe I had shrapnel in my leg,” Wilson said, as he patted his leg.

  The man just shook his head. “What war were you in?”

  “None, actually. I had flat feet so they wouldn’t take me; otherwise, I’d have been in the Korean War.”

  “Then how did you get the shrapnel in your leg?”

  “I was a little careless with a firearm years ago, then there was that hunting accident when I was thirty. Ever been shot by a shotgun before?”

  “No, thankfully.”

  “Well, I have some shot in me that couldn’t be removed, the doctors say. It doesn’t matter none to me, except when I’m going through an airport.”

  Mr. Wilson continued to chat the man’s ear off and I had to chuckle to myself over that one. What was it with men and male bonding?

  I took out my Kindle and began to read one of my many books. I often couldn’t help myself when BookBub sent me those daily emails with bargain books. I’d almost become a book addict. I personally liked to have my Kindle read my books to me. It worked in a pinch when I didn’t buy the audio books, which were much better with actual narrators. It took some getting used to, but I actually embraced all the new-fangled gadgets they had these days.

  “It seems like Mr. Wilson and Eleanor are having a nice chat over there,” Andrew said.

  “You must mean Mr. Wilson. I don’t think I have heard Eleanor say anything. They’re such a sweet couple. I’m so happy that both Eleanor and I were able to find happiness. I’m still so shocked that I’m finally your wife.”

  “Hopefully in time you’ll actually take my last name.”

  “I know, but I’ve been a Barton for so long it’s hard to even think about changing my name. Please, give me time. I’m sure I’ll sort through it soon.”

  “You could be Agnes Barton Hart if you’d like.”

  This wasn’t the conversation that I wanted to have as we headed on our honeymoon. “Whatever you would like, Andrew.”

  “It’s not like that. I don’t want to tell you what to do at all. I hardly expect that you’d stand for it, anyway.”

  Andrew really had a valid point there. I felt bad that I was stalling about the name change. What really was my problem with it, anyway?

  I didn’t read for very long before I dozed off, and I woke with a start as the plane jumped a bit. “What’s going on?”

  “Just a little turbulence,” Andrew said. “Did you have a nice nap?”

  “I did. I can’t believe I dozed off like that.”

  Andrew smiled. “I took a picture while you slept. I’ll show it to you later.”

  “What was I doing that was so funny that you’d risk pulling out your cell phone? You’re lucky the air marshal didn’t come back here.”

  “What air marshal?”

  ‘That man sitting up there,” I said.

  “You mean that portly man with a Hawaiian shirt on?”

  “Exactly. Look how he’s restless and keeps watching everyone who pas
ses him to use the bathroom.”

  Andrew nudged me. “You want to be part of the mile high club?”

  “The what?”

  “You know, it’s where we’d go into the bathroom together and—”

  “Get freaky,” Eleanor said from her seat.

  I stiffened now at the mere suggestion. “The only thing I’m lowering my pants for in that bathroom is if I hafta pee.”

  “Uh-oh, Agnes. You know every time you say that you have to go for real,” Eleanor said.

  Sure enough, my bladder suddenly felt quite full. “I’ll have to hold it somehow. The keep your seatbelt sign is on.”

  “Probably on account of the turbulence,” Eleanor said.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, after much leg crossing, I had to get up and use that bathroom or else I’d be going right here. I unhooked my seatbelt and headed to the bathroom.

  A stewardess met me halfway, telling me, “You need to sit back down.”

  “I can’t. I hafta pee and if I don’t do it soon, I’ll be doing it right here in the aisle. I’m sure you’d rather not have the mess to clean up or the aroma for the rest of the flight.”

  “Good point, but hurry up.”

  The sign went off and another stewardess said, “The captain just gave us the all clear, Donna.”

  Donna smiled and headed back to the front.

  I nodded as I passed the man wearing the Hawaiian shirt. “Good to know you’re here?”

  “Who, me?”

  “You’re an air marshal. I know you must be, with the way you keep watching all of the passengers.”

  “You’re mistaken, lady. I’m just a passenger, like everyone else.”

  “I’m an investigator back in Tawas where I live and I’m quite observant.”

  “Good to know, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my newspaper.”

  “I thought you had to pee,” Donna said.

  “No need to be cross with me. I bet your mother is very proud of you, the way you talk to senior citizens, I mean.”