Hidden Secrets

by Madison Johns

  “I hardly think she’d want to stay with an old couple like Andrew and me.”

  “No men to flirt with,” Eleanor added with a snicker.

  “Flirting is one thing, but if I don’t get Gia to move on she might get in the family way and we’d be drawing straws to figure out which of my lughead sons are responsible.”

  “Don’t you want to be a grandmother?” Bernice asked with a grin.

  Rosa Lee shot her a look. “I’m going to forget you said that. I love my boys, but neither of them are father material. They can barely remember to put the seat up when they pee.”

  “I’m with Rosa Lee,” I said. “The day we were at your place we caught her in the woods with Curtis.”

  “We almost caught them doing more than kissing,” Eleanor added.

  “They were by the old cabin,” I said.

  “I always knew I should have had it torn down,” Rosa Lee said.

  “We spotted your boys with the girl at Marion’s.”

  “That time Gia was hanging all over Curt.” Eleanor laughed.

  “You better get those sons in line,” Jack said. “She’s trying to get her hooks into them.”

  “And break up your family,” I added.

  “If it comes to that, Gia will have to get packing. My boys mean too much to me.”

  “I can’t see them letting a woman get between them.”

  “And definitely not between you and them,” Eleanor said.

  “If anyone has any ideas I’d love to hear them,” Rosa Lee said.

  “Don’t interfere or it will go against you, Rosa Lee,” Elsie said. “It’s better in these situations to let them figure it out on their own.”

  “Ha,” Jack said. “They’ll move for sure then. You need to remind them of their responsibilities. Jimmy said they haven’t come out to his place to help with his new house.”

  “New house?” Elsie asked.

  “Jimmy is building it himself. He has the foundation poured,” I said.

  Rosa Lee narrowed her eyes. “What you been out to Jimmy’s place for?”

  “It involves our case.”

  “Did you find out who killed Wilber yet?” Bernice asked.

  “We’re not even close to a solid clue.”

  “What about what Callie said about my ex being a serial killer?”

  I sank to the couch. “I have someone checking into that. We can’t let Callie lead us astray when we don’t even know if there is any truth to it.”

  Eleanor smiled slightly. “Do you think Wilber capable of something like that?”

  “It’s a hard question,” Bernice said as she jotted down her score. “Callie said this was when she was younger.”

  “What if she was wrong? What if he was a killer when he was still married to you?”

  “Agnes, I can’t believe you,” Elsie said. “Bernice is recuperating.”

  “Well, I don’t know any other way to say it.”

  “No need to blame Agnes. I’ve been thinking about that. And Wilber was a salesman. He spent a lot of time away from home. He had plenty of opportunity.”

  “If he had a mind to do something that vicious,” Eleanor said. “The sheriff had Wilber’s property excavated. We don’t know if any more bodies turned up.”

  “His place is still a crime scene, but we saw your children there today.”

  Bernice frowned. “I wonder what they’re up to.”

  “I really want to think they’re not involved, I mean this is their father,” I began, “but what possible reason would they have to be over there when they know the investigation is in full swing?”

  “It’s their inheritance,” Elsie insisted. “I bet they’re just worried about the house being locked up.”

  “I wonder if Wilber had a will?” Eleanor said.

  “Don’t look at me,” Bernice said. “Wilber didn’t share that sort of information.”

  “Maybe you’re right, Elsie, and they aren’t up to no good.”

  “Other than throwing their own mother under the bus?” Eleanor grumbled.

  “I don’t trust either of my children,” Bernice said with a shake of her head.

  “I hope we haven’t upset you. We really came here to see how you’re doing,” I said.

  “You haven’t made me any more upset than I already am. I won’t feel safe until the murderer is found.”

  “Are you sure there wasn’t anything Wilber might have said that could give us a clue?”

  Bernice put her palms on the table. “He was acting distant, but I figured he wanted to end things between us.”

  “You told us there wasn’t anything between you two.”

  “I didn’t want the sheriff to know. He already thinks I’m capable of murdering Wilber.”

  “I think you need to go back to the beginning.”

  Bernice sighed. “We did go out, like I already told you, but we spent the night together a few times here and there.”

  Jack’s eyes bugged out. “Why do tell Bernice!”

  I glared at Jack as Bernice continued, “There wasn’t anything debauched about it. When you get to by my age it feels good to have a man hold me. I didn’t think I was that sort of woman, but I was wrong. I tried to fit the model of a woman he’d be interested in. But none of my fancy clothes could do that. I feel like such a fool now.”

  “Please don’t,” I said. “I won’t share your admission with the sheriff.”

  “I told you the other part. He quit coming inside for coffee after he mowed my lawn. His visited less and less, and I was so hurt.” Bernice wiped her tears with the back with her shirt tail. “Then I got angry, but I had too much pride to tell him to get lost. I started wearing my men’s clothing again, but by then when Wilber came over he just sat in his truck.”

  “He had some demons,” I said. “Whatever was happening in Wilber’s life was huge. Too big for him to handle or to share with you, Bernice.”

  “Don’t blame yourself,” Eleanor said. “You didn’t know what to do, like many of us. It’s so easy to say you’d do this or that, but when confronted with a problem like that I can’t say I would have done anything differently.”

  “Thank you, Eleanor. I appreciate my friends being here for me. All I can say is if Wilber was a serial killer when I was him I didn’t know anything about it.”

  Eleanor and I made an unexpected appearance at Neiman’s meat counter, where a robust woman greeted us. Her name badge read “Peggy.”

  “Hello ladies.” She motioned to porterhouse steaks in the counter. “We just got a delivery of what I think are the leanest porterhouses you’ll find in town.”

  “I believe that,” I said. “You always have the best meat in town.”

  Eleanor nodded. “We’re here to speak to the manager. I believe his name is Darrell.”

  “Darrell doesn’t work her anymore. He’s taken another job at the Harrisville Harbor Grocery.”

  “That seems sudden,” I said. “He didn’t mention that the last time we were here.”

  Peggy’s brow arched sharply. “Do you know Darrell?”

  Eleanor leaned on the meat counter. “Of course we know him. Otherwise why would we be here?”

  Peggy shrugged.

  “Do you know Faith Fleur?” I asked. When Peggy hesitated I said, “She delivers groceries for the store.”

  “I remember her.”

  “What can you tell us about her?”

  Peggy glanced around as if to ensure that nobody could overhear her. “She was a little too friendly with Darrell before she pulled her disappearing act.”

  “Did the owner catch wind of it?” Eleanor asked.

  “I can’t speak for the owner, but I believe the only thing he didn’t care about was the negative attention since Faith disappeared. Sheriff Peterson searched the SUV she used for deliveries. I think they found something, but I couldn’t say what.”

  “Did the owner question Darrell about it?”

  “I couldn’t say. The tension was pre
tty high around the store until Darrell left.”

  “People in town no doubt wanted to hear every little detail,” I said.

  “Exactly.”

  “Faith is believed to be missing,” Eleanor said somberly.

  Peggy sighed. “I hoped that wouldn’t be the case.”

  Eleanor swiped her hand across the top of the meat counter and looked at her dust-free fingers. “Did Darrell appear upset when Faith didn’t come to work?”

  “Not in the least.”

  “Seems like he’d be upset if an employee suddenly didn’t show up to work. I imagine people were counting on having their groceries delivered.”

  “He’s a manager. They never let us see them sweat,” Peggy insisted.

  “Well, that is the professional way to act, but in our experience emotions are often hard to cover up when you’re upset,” I said. “Is the owner here? I’d like to speak to him.”

  “Neiman’s is run by the children of the original owners, and they’re in Florida for a conference. It’s been a few months since they’ve been in the store.”

  “If that’s the case then how did you know the owners didn’t care for the negative attention?”

  “If you owned the store wouldn’t you feel that way?”

  “I suppose so, but I don’t think Neiman’s has gathered any negative attention. The cops searched a company-owned vehicle, not the store,” Eleanor said.

  “A vehicle, I might add, driven by an employee presumed missing. Anything Faith may have been doing before her disappearance has no reflection on Neiman’s. Thank you for your time, Peggy,” I said.

  Eleanor and I purchased a few fresh doughnuts before leaving the store. The wind felt great and Tawas Bay was spectacular. Seagulls were fishing on the bay instead of begging for food in picnic areas.

  I drove north and swung into the sheriff’s department.

  “I thought we’d be heading for Harrisville,” Eleanor said.

  “Not quite yet. I’d like to find out what Peterson has to say about the money they found.”

  “We found, you mean. I wonder whose money it is.”

  “I can’t imagine it belongs to Neiman’s. It would have hit the airwaves with a resounding clap.”

  “She delivered groceries,” Eleanor reminded me. “The orders were paid by credit or debit cards, remember?”

  “Of course the person who told us that left town.”

  “Still, I can’t imagine them handling it any other way.”

  Peterson stopped dead in his tracks when we ran across the parking lot to catch up to him.

  “Thanks for waiting for us, Peterson,” I said. “We have something important to talk to you about.”

  “It will have to wait until I get back. I have important business to take care of.”

  We nodded and watched as he tore out of the parking lot and threw the sirens on.

  “Where do you think he’s going?” Eleanor asked.

  “I don’t know, but we’re about to find out.”

  By the time we were back on the road Peterson was nowhere to be found ... and the road to Wilber’s house was blocked with police cars.

  “This isn’t good.”

  “What are we going to do now?”

  “Head to Harrisville and find Darrell.”

  “Shouldn’t we find another way to get to that road?”

  “We’ll check it out when we get back. Things might be calmed down by then or at least the road might not be blocked. I don’t want to tangle with Peterson right now.”

  “I would have thought he’d have at least hinted where he was going,” Eleanor grumbled.

  “He knows if he did that we’d never leave him alone.”

  “You’re probably right. Onward, James.”

  Chapter 16

  I adjusted the seat to a more comfortable position. I enjoyed driving the LX. The leather seats felt cool and the air conditioning could freeze your nose. I almost felt bad for Andrew as the AC in Martha’s station wagon simply does not exist. The seats were frayed, requiring several afghans to cover the springs. Forget about power anything, I’m shocked that the windows even roll down.

  “Do you think Darrell is involved in Wilber’s murder?” Eleanor asked.

  “I’d love to know what his deal is. It’s awfully convenient that he sent us on a wild goose chase and now doesn’t work at Neiman’s anymore.”

  “You’re right about that. He lied to us -- and I hate liars!”

  “Almost as much as I hate murderers, especially when one of my friends is a suspect,” I said.

  “I don’t think anyone believes that anymore,” Eleanor said. “Except maybe her children.”

  “I don’t see how Bernice could have such rotten children. I swear they murdered their own father to get their own mother thrown in jail for the murder.”

  “That sounds like a motive. They haven’t forgiven her for not being in their lives when they were children -- and it wasn’t even her fault.”

  “They don’t believe Bernice at all -- or us. Maybe Wilber was a serial killer. He certainly knew how to manipulate his own children.”

  “I hope Stuart finds something on that end soon. I’m beginning to think this is really what is happening here,” Eleanor said. “The whole thing was set up, but if Wilber was really a serial killer and a victim’s family found out, why kill him instead of turning him into the police?”

  “Because it’s too personal. They wanted to see him die.”

  I drove to Harrisville not knowing what to expect from Darrell. Would he tell us the truth or his version of the truth? Was he responsible for Faith’s disappearance?

  We passed Oscoda and as we continued north trees packed closer to 23, opening only for the sporadic motels dotting the highway. I imagined an era in which these motels were all filled despite not being near Lake Huron. Times were easier back then, and campgrounds were always crowded.

  Harrisville is a very small town with a wonderful state park and even lovelier beach. I pulled up to the Harrisville Harbor Grocery. It buzzed with activity.

  A woman greeted us as she handed out samples of Cuban pork cutlets. “We have Chef Martin with us today, and you’ll love what he’s cooked up for us.” She sliced the cutlet and set it on small paper plates. Eleanor and I eagerly took a sample and a plastic fork. From the way Eleanor looked down at her plate I knew she was about to say the sample was much too small, so I guided her to the rear of the store.

  Eleanor was plastered to the glass, gazing at the cooked cutlets, mashed potatoes, green beans and every other variety of prepared food. We eagerly purchased a cutlet dinner for $6.99 and carried our Styrofoam containers to the meat counter, where we were told we’d find the manager.

  “Hello there,” I greeted the short man who worked behind the counter. We could barely see his eyes from where he stood.

  “We’re here to speak with the manager,” Eleanor said. “Darrell.”

  “Darrell isn’t the name of the manager.”

  “We were told he left Neiman’s for a position here,” I said.

  “I’ll get the manager.”

  The short man disappeared through a sliding door and a woman motioned us back. “Let’s talk in my office.”

  When we were sitting in the office the woman interlaced her fingers. “I was told you were looking for a man named Darrell.”

  “That’s right. He was a manager at Neiman’s.”

  “Ah, well, we did hire a manager from Neiman’s, but he didn’t work out.”

  “That quick?”

  “His credentials didn’t check out.”

  “But he was a manager at Neiman’s Family Market.”

  “I’m not certain how he managed to work there when Darrell isn’t his real name.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you could give us his real name. We’re investigating a missing person.”

  “His real name is Earle Richards. He has a criminal record for fraud. That’s all I can tell you.”

 
“Do you have any idea how we could find him?”

  “I’ll give you the address he put on his application.”

  I rapped on the door of a dismal cabin on 23. It appeared the cabin hadn’t been refinished or maintained in many years.

  Eleanor’s hand went to her hip as if she was packing as the door opened a crack. All I could see was a very wide blue eye and a swatch of blond hair.

  My eyes widened. “We know who you are,” I said.

  “And unless you want us to call the police, you might want to open the door,” Eleanor threatened.

  The door opened further. Darrell stood behind the woman. She backed up. “I don’t understand. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “If you’re Faith Fleur you have some serious questions to answer,” I shot back. “We were led to believe you’re a missing person.”

  “Sheriff Peterson will be very interested in this development,” Eleanor said as she folded her arms across her ample chest.

  “You don’t understand. I had to go into hiding.”

  “Why so suddenly?”

  “Please, nobody can know where I’m at.”

  “Give me one reason why,” I said. “I’m a reasonable woman.”

  “No you’re not,” Eleanor whispered. “Neither of us are.”

  I didn’t have time to glare at Eleanor. I was reading the expression that drifted across Faith’s face as her lips turned into a frown. “You won’t understand.”

  “Leave her alone,” the man we had known as Darrell said. “She doesn’t have to answer your questions.”

  “She does if she doesn’t want the cops showing up. She’s cost Iosco County serious money investigating her disappearance.”

  “You don’t understand,” Darrell said.

  “Does Faith know you’re real name isn’t Darrell and that you’ve had several brushes with the law?”

  “Who told you that?”

  “The manager at Harrisville Harbor Grocery. You know, the one who did a background check on you, Earle.”

  “I have a twin brother and he’s the one with the criminal background. His name is Earle. People get us confused all the time.”

  “And I suppose your social security numbers are the same too,” Eleanor said with a sneer. “Or driver licenses?”