I leaned back in the seat and nodded. “One of the reasons I’m dreading going in there.”
Suddenly, the driver’s side door was whipped open and the “Cat Lady” stood there with the barrel of her gun pointed inside the car at us. “Get out slowly,” she said with clenched teeth.
El and I got out with our arms raised, and the Cat Lady began cackling something fierce. “Oh, it’s you, Aggie. What’s with the getup?” She motioned to our strange clothing.
“We’re incognito.”
“Works for me. You better come into the house. You should know by now that it’s not good to sit in a parked car at a senior citizen’s house? You’re lucky ole Elsie didn’t call the cops on you already.”
As we walked toward the house, all five pairs of eyes were looking through the curtains at us. Yup, seniors are the nosiest, but also the most watchful, folks in town. Who needs a neighborhood watch when you have older folks to keep an eye on things? Sure, they might know all of your business and then some, but they’re also quick to call 911 to help you out when you need it. That is, unless you live near the Cat Lady, who always has her shotgun at the ready.
The Cat Lady touched her hair, which was tightly pulled back in a ponytail, and opened the door, tugging on the blue suspenders that were holding her blue jeans in place. The edges of her plaid shirt whipped in the wind. When she greeted Elsie and the others, she was quite clear. “Agnes and Eleanor are here to pay their respects.” She held up a hand when Elsie’s face reddened. “Let’s hear what the ladies have to say before we all jump to conclusions.”
“Elsie,” I started, “I’m so sorry about your sister, but please hear me out. While we all know I had my differences with Mildred, I didn’t harm a hair on her head … I didn’t kill her.”
“She was already dead when we got to the Butler Mansion,” El cut in. “We only went there to see if a painting was missing. We had no idea there was a silent alarm, or that the cops would show up.”
“We were as surprised as the cops when we found out Mildred was dead in the kitchen.”
Elsie pulled a tissue from her cleavage and swiped at her nose. “How did she die? They wouldn’t tell me.”
I eyed Dorothy Alton, who shuffled her feet and said, “I swear, I won’t tell a soul. In the past, it was different, but this time one of our own has been murdered.”
“If you’re sure. It looks like she was done in by a silver candlestick holder.”
Murmurs were heard among the group of seniors. “Just like the Clue game all over again,” Marjory Hays said, smoothing her lavender dress that, in her usual style, coordinated with her husband’s shirt. She fanned herself with a piece of paper.
“I don’t think so. Like I was saying earlier, we suspected one of the Butlers’ paintings was missing, and we confirmed it today. That’s one of the reasons for our unusual garb. We’re on the hot seat here. Trooper Sales believes we’re guilty, and we couldn’t risk anyone recognizing us at the Butler Mansion.”
“So, there is a missing painting?” Elsie asked. “Just like they said in that tabloid magazine.”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “One that possibly hides a treasure map.”
That got them in an uproar. “So, it is true,” Dorothy chimed in. “I really didn’t believe that far-fetched story until now. Who do you think took it?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I believe whoever took it might also have killed poor Mildred.”
“That’s just awful,” Frank Alton blubbered. “Do you think Mildred was involved in the theft?”
I eyed Elsie, and I almost didn’t want to proceed, until she said, “Go ahead, Agnes. Answer the question.”
“Yes, I think she was, but I don’t know the details yet. Hal Peterson said that she was seen around town with a younger man. He believed she was dating him, but I’m not sure about that.”
“Hal said that she had quit calling him,” El added.
“When was the last time you saw your sister, Elsie?”
She frowned. “It’s been a while. She called and told me she was staying with a friend, but she wouldn’t tell me who. At first, I thought it was Hal Peterson, but he was at the new assisted living place in town, so that ruled him out.”
“Well, he’s not there now. He’s at Bambi’s Motel.”
Elsie’s eyes widened. “How odd. Why on earth would Sheriff Peterson allow him to do such a thing?”
“Hal was with his grandson, Calvin Peterson, Jr. Perhaps the kid is just looking after the old man, but truth be known, he looks young enough to need someone to look after him.”
“He plays a mean game of Minecraft, though,” El said. “I couldn’t get heads or tails about that game.”
“Mind what?” Elsie asked in shock.
“It’s a computer game these younger kids play. But getting back to Mildred’s friend. Do you know whom she might have gotten herself involved with?”
“Gosh no, but her son will be in town soon, so maybe he’ll know. We’ll be congregating at the Happy Bear Funeral Home tomorrow. You could ask him then.”
“How many children does she have?”
“Just the one: Timothy. He lives in Caro,” Elsie answered.
“What can you tell me about Timothy, Elsie?”
She fidgeted. “It’s not for me to say. He is my nephew, after all.”
“I know that, and I’d never ask if it wasn’t important, but we need to find out who did this to Mildred and bring whoever is responsible to justice.”
She sighed and excused herself, returning with a pitcher of lemonade and some glasses balanced on a silver tray.
“Oh, it’s gonna be one of those kinds of stories, is it?” I said, eying the refreshments.
Elsie grimaced and nodded. “Yes, please have some lemonade and settle yourselves on the couch.”
I stared at the all-white sofa and loveseat. “Are you sure? I thought—”
“Nobody was allowed to sit … in there,” El finished for me.
“Nonsense. I know you can be trusted not to spill spiked lemonade on the sofa.”
“Oh, spiked,” Eleanor said. “Not a problem.”
So we all sat in the living room and nursed our drinks, careful not to leak a drop.
“Mildred never had a happy life. Her husband, Charles, was a cheater, as you know,” Elsie said.
I hung my head and knew full well that this comment was pointed in my direction. “I had no idea he was married,” I said in weak protest.
“Of course not. That’s just how he was. It devastated Mildred, and she vowed to keep him any way she could. She got pregnant with Timothy shortly after that, in the hopes of saving her marriage, but it didn’t work.”
“It never does,” El said, taking a big sip of her lemonade.
“Right. Well, when Timothy was born, Charles up and left. Mildred did her best to get him back, but as you know, she went off the deep end, and I’m afraid poor Timothy was just a painful reminder of Charles. They were almost penniless, but then Mildred started dating another man, Mel Pifton. He was a kind man and into oil, but he only stayed with her until Timothy was eighteen, and then he left.”
“It’s no wonder that Mildred acted like she did toward me,” I said. “I bet I was yet another reminder of what Charles did to her. I feel even worse now for my involvement with him and for how I treated her. She wasn’t totally to blame.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Mildred was bipolar, and it took years before she was properly diagnosed, but she refused to stay on the medicine, and at times, her moods took vicious turns. She really made some bad choices, but most of us kind of rolled with them. I believe someone was taking unfair advantage of her, and in the end, they took her life.”
“It has to do with that missing painting. I know it, Elsie. So, how was Timothy’s relationship with his mother?” I waited in suspense.
“She threw him out at the age of nineteen. I’m afraid he took the worst brunt of her vile temper. Mildred hadn’t seen the boy in
twenty years. He has lived in Caro for years, and I send him money occasionally to help him get by.”
“How kind of you, Elsie,” El said.
“Well, it’s more than his mother did, but for the record, I loved my sister. I just couldn’t live with her. I’d almost say I wasn’t surprised that something happened to her. If only she had taken her medication, though, she might still be alive.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. It’s obvious that there was more to the story than you were aware of.”
“I just wish she had opened up to me about what was going on.”
“Family members are like that,” I said. “The most you can do now is bury her with some dignity.”
Elsie nodded. “I suppose. Please come to the service and pay your respects. It would be a good chance for you to meet Timothy, and who knows, maybe someone will show up that you could question. Hopefully someone can shed some light about where Mildred has been staying for the past month.”
I downed my lemonade and gave Elsie a hug. I really hoped, for all of our sakes, that El and I could unravel this puzzle.
Chapter Five
El and I woke up early the next morning, and we donned our Sunday best clothes. As I walked, I could feel my elegant peach dress swirling along my legs, but the white strap of my sandals pinched my toes something fierce. El’s dress was more conservative than I had expected from her. She had on a high-necked pink dress that covered up most of her assets for a change. I eyed her flip flops in disgust. “Seriously, El. Do you really intend to wear those things to the funeral home?” I asked, pointing at her footwear.
“Course not. What do you take me for, a complete loon?”
I smiled, wanting to say yes, but instead said, “I was just worried, is all. I’d hate to see you trip.”
A tube of lipstick appeared from El’s purse, and she applied the deep red stain to her pouty lips. “It’s strange about Mildred. When was the last time we even saw her?”
“It was at bingo, remember?”
“Oh, and that was it, then?”
“Yes, remember?”
“I do now, dear. My short term memory isn’t what it used to be.”
I stared at the clock on the wall and led the way to the door. Eleanor scampered in front of me with sandals dangling from her fingertips. Once we were in the big black Cadillac, El turned on the radio, tapping along to a Blake Shelton tune, Redneck something or other. Originally I thought it might be better if we weren’t seen in the rental, but it was highly unlikely that the cops would piece together that El and I were the same ones at the Butler Mansion today, especially since we were incognito. “I sure hope that Happy Bear Funeral Home has toned down the happy thing,” El said. “Otherwise, it might make for an awkward day.”
“How so?”
“Well, last time we were there we didn’t know the fella laid out, but this time, it’s Mildred, and we knew her. It just puts a different spin on it, that’s all.”
“Yes, Happy Bear Funeral Home goes down in the record books for the most inappropriate name, but the director, Martin Henderson, is a likable enough fella.”
When we pulled up in front of the funeral home, the place was already packed with cars, many with plates from out of state. “Wow, there’s quite a turnout,” El pointed out. “And no pink streamers.”
“Maybe Martin realized the error of his ways.”
We walked inside, and a thin lady of about sixty or so smiled at us. The young woman we had encountered last time we were here was nowhere in sight. The older woman led us toward the viewing room, motioning for us to sign the book. We both complied. “My name is Roselyn,” the hostess said. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask.”
We nodded at her and moved into the viewing room, where we ran into the funeral director. “Hello,” Martin said, his cheeks cherry red. “It so nice to see you again.” He cleared his throat. “I mean … I’m so sorry it’s under these circumstances. Are you family or friends?”
“Neither,” El said with a completely straight face. “We’re on another case.”
“I see. Well, it was nice to see you two again, all the same. If you should ever need to pre-plan a funeral, please think of us.”
He walked away, and both El and I shot each other a look that said no way were we anywhere near dying. “He has a point,” I said. “Most folks our age do that. Pre-plan, I mean.”
“Not me. I’m not like most people my age. They can plant me in a garden when I go. You have a nice one, Aggie, you could put me there.”
“You’re just trying to get my goat here, so I won’t dignify that with a response, but just because you’re older than me doesn’t mean you’ll go before me. With our luck, we’ll go together.”
El shuddered. “Don’t say that. It almost happens on every case.”
We walked a few feet and ran into Trooper Sales, who was in plain clothes today. A very pregnant Sophia was by his side, and she hugged me briefly. “I tried to tell Bill—”
“I know perfectly well that you two are guilty of a crime?” Sales interrupted knowingly.
El’s eyes widened, and she retorted without batting an eyelash. “What crime would that be? Your incompetence, perhaps?”
“How do you figure that?”
“I’m sure you know by now that our clothing was blood free, and you don’t have a leg to stand on with pinning us for this crime,” El said and gave a bob of her head.
“You seem pretty sure of yourself, but if you think that changes a thing for either of you, you’re both dead wrong.”
Sophia shot Sales a look and spat, “Before you start blaming my Grams, you might want to look into the recent activities of Mildred. There is no way either El or Grams would kill anyone, and you know it. I won’t stand for you making waves at Mildred’s showing. Show some damn respect.”
Trooper Sales didn’t say a word, although his face reddened. He left the room, leaving an astonished Sophia behind.
“Don’t let me come between you and Bill,” I said as I patted her growing belly. Despite being so huge, Sophia was radiant, as always, with her cheeks aglow.
“I don’t plan to, but he didn’t need to start it here.” With a nod, she wobbled after Bill.
El and I wandered over to the white casket where Mildred was laid out. Not even the makeup job they did on her helped all that much. She was dead, and she definitely looked it. I vowed to myself I’d find out who did this.
Elsie met us as we wandered over to a television screen where a photo slide show was shuffling photos of Mildred in various stages of life. In her early years, she was wild-eyed, but seldom smiling. It was kinda how it was back when. When her wedding picture came on, I felt a stab of guilt about how I had a part in causing Mildred pain, even though I hadn’t known it at the time.
“It sure is nice of you to stop by,” a male voice behind us said.
I whirled in time to glimpse a tall man dressed in torn jeans and a T-shirt, his dark hair slicked back. “Are you Timothy, Mildred’s son?” I asked.
“Yes. I sure never expected her to die like this.”
“Have you kept in close contact?”
He shook his head, and tears glistened in his eyes. “I wish we had, and now, it’s too late for regrets.”
“We all have our regrets and are confused about what happened. I just wish I had gotten there in time.”
“In time? I don’t understand.”
“We were at the Butler Mansion that night and had no idea she was already dead.”
“I see. Are you one of the suspects the cops were talking about?”
“Probably, but I didn’t harm a hair on your mother’s head. The last time I saw her she was at the County Medical Facility.”
“Bingo you mean, Aggie,” El reminded me.
Obviously ignoring Eleanor, he rubbed a hand over his head. “It’s my understanding that she left that place about a month ago.”
“Do you know who picked her up?”
“They wouldn’t say, but I have my ideas. Hal Peterson comes to mind. Mom was dating him.”
“I checked that lead out already, but Hal believed that she was seeing someone else.”
“A younger someone else,” El said. “Do you know who that could be?”
He shook his head. “Nope, but are you two looking into her death?”
“We’re private investigators,” I informed him. “In this case, we’re also trying to clear our own names. We’re determined to find the truth.”
“Does it have anything to do with that treasure map?”
“What treasure map?”
He pulled out his phone and showed us a picture of a map. “My mom sent me this before she died.”
“Like how soon before?”
“I think it might have been right before … you know, she was killed.”
“She must have known that she was in trouble, and it was her way to let someone know,” El said.
“We need to blow up this picture. Can you send it to my phone?” I asked Timothy, and rattled off my number.
“Why not. It’s hard to believe that there’s a treasure hiding in East Tawas. Mom had some strange notions sometimes.”
“Oh?”
“She used to pan for gold, too, but even after she bought all this equipment, she never found a nugget. She was dating Mel Pifton at the time, and there was something about that guy that just never rang true to me. Like, why did he have her all gung-ho over gold panning when he was supposed to be rich?”
“Mel was loaded?” El asked.
“So he says, but I never saw evidence of that. My mom kept shelling out all her money when he gave her excuse after excuse about why he had to wait for his money to come.”
“Where did he have money coming from?” I asked.
“He was in the oil business, or so he said, but I just don’t buy into that. He’s a con, in my opinion, and I’ll tell him so if he shows at the funeral.”
“Do you think he will? Show, I mean?”
Just then, Elsie craned her neck and said, “There he is now.”
I watched as Mel came forward. He wasn’t exactly what I expected. He was wearing white trousers and a simple button-up shirt that didn’t look all that rich, and he had a full beard that reminded me of Santa Claus. He also used a cane with a bronze eagle, which he leaned on as he walked to the casket. When he got there, he pulled a red handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his eyes. “Oh, why, Mildred?”
Madison Johns - Agnes Barton 05 - Treasure in Tawas Page 4