Why what? I thought.
We waited ten minutes before he turned and greeted Timothy. “I’m so sorry about your mother. Did she happen to send you anything before she died?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Timothy said, his face tight with tension.
“I mean, like, did she call you before she died?”
“No. Should she have?”
Mel blew his nose. “She called me last week and told me she had found out about a treasure map and said I should come on up and give her a hand locating it.”
“Did you ask where the map was or where the treasure was?” I asked.
“Why, no. I figured she’d tell me when I came to town. I had no idea she would be dead before I got here.”
“Can you prove when you came to town?”
Mel puffed up his chest at the accusation, his nostrils flaring as he barked, “Sure can. I was in Standish the day she died. I have a receipt to prove it.” He fished it out of his pocket and pressed it into my hand. Sure enough, it was a receipt from the Shell station in Standish dated a few days earlier, with the time eight-thirty stamped on it—a time I knew Mildred had already been dead.
I handed it back to him and asked, “Did she happen to say who she was with, if anyone?”
“Sure didn’t, but I knew someone had to be supplying her with information. How else would she find out about a treasure? I know it seems pretty far-fetched, but you’d be surprised with what you can find when you start to look.”
I raised a brow. “Really? And you’d have me believe treasures exist these days? It sounds like a bunch of baloney to me.”
“You shouldn’t be so close-minded. I’m the adventurous type. I’ve found gems and gold in North Carolina. Mildred got the gold fever herself, but when she didn’t find any, she kinda blamed me.”
“Is that why you two broke up?”
“Yes. Mildred didn’t hold back any punches when she wanted you to go. She tended not to believe that I’m into oil, on account of the fact that my money only comes in once a month.”
“So she basically supported you, then?”
“I never wanted it that way, but my son has me on an allowance.”
“I see. Well, that sure is quite a bit to swallow. I don’t count Mildred as a fool.”
Mel’s blue eyes shot me one of those looks that said he was agitated with how I spoke to him, but I didn’t care a bit what he thought. This man just wasn’t telling me the whole truth, and I knew it!
“Well, that’s a matter of opinion, but for what it’s worth, I loved Mildred very much. Some might think she was a shrew, but she had a very kind heart and was sweeter than a candy apple.” He shuffled his feet and asked, “Did you find the treasure map, by chance?”
I eyed Timothy, who shook his head. “Sorry, I guess whoever killed her took it with them. It’s too bad because I could sure use the money, but hopefully someone else can find it and give me a share.”
If that wasn’t a hint, I didn’t know what was. “I’m sure you also heard the stories, though, about the treasure being cursed.”
“Exactly. That’s why I’d prefer to have someone else do the finding,” Timothy said.
Mel glanced from Timothy to me. “Is that supposed to mean something?”
“Course not, Mel,” Timothy said. “I just meant if someone found the map, is all.”
Mel’s lips turned down into a deep frown, and he shook his head. “You don’t make a lick of sense boy, but then again, you never have. I’m staying in town just the same. If there’s treasure hiding here, I’m just the man to find it.” With that said, he made tracks for the door and left.
“Just as I expected,” Timothy spat. “That man is up to no good. Please find that treasure—if only so that Mel can’t claim it for himself.”
“We don’t even know who has the map for real, but if we find him or her, I have no doubt we’ll find Mildred’s killer.”
El and I said our goodbyes, and we left. As we drove back to the beach house, my cell phone rang. I pulled off the side of the road and answered it. “Th-They, s-someone…” Martha’s voice sounded rattled. “Please, come to the campground quick.”
“Martha?” I asked. “What’s going on?” I didn’t hear another sound so I knew we had better get over there fast to find out what was happening.
When I drove into the campground drive, two cop cars were there, parked in front of my Winnebago, where Martha now lived. Just as El and I reached the door, Martha came out, bawling something fierce. “What’s happening, dear?” I asked.
“Someone ransacked the trailer. All my pretty things were thrown around, and whoever it was cut up the furniture and damaged the back.” She led us toward the rear of the camper, where a panel had been taken off and the contents of a cubby were scattered on the ground. There were sacks with dishes and clothing and a jewelry box with its lid ripped off, and whatever had been inside was gone. “Are these your things, Mother?”
“Why, no. I didn’t even know there was a storage area back here. It must have belonged to whoever owned this Winnebago before it was auctioned off by the police.” I picked up the jewelry box and carried it to the picnic table, where we sat, waiting for the cops to finish up inside. The red velvet jewelry box must have originally had gems or jewels glued to it, as you could see where something had been ripped off the box. “I wonder if anything was in here?” I said.
Eleanor looked inside and took a sniff. “Smells like pot to me,” she chuckled. “I wonder if the owners were drug dealers. You did say it was bought at a police auction.”
“Right, but this box isn’t big enough to store more than a personal stash.”
Eleanor’s face lit up. “What if someone thought you still lived here, Aggie?”
“I’m not sure this has a thing to do with me.”
Martha blinked a few times and said, “Well, what could Mom possibly have that anyone would be looking for?”
“Maybe someone thinks Agnes found the treasure map at the Butler Mansion.”
“Like when?” I asked. “A painting has been stolen from the mansion, remember? Whoever killed Martha—”
“What in the hay!” Martha blurted out. “I think you mean Mildred, Mother.”
“You’re so right, dear. Sorry. I forgot my point now.” I shook my head.
“We have two entirely different scenarios here, Aggie. Mildred’s killer might have the map. That is, unless she hid it somewhere before she died. Or someone else thinks we found the map since we were at the mansion the day Mildred was killed.”
Martha sat straight up. “That makes sense. They thought you were still staying here and decided to search for the map.”
“But I moved back to my house a few months ago.”
“Not everyone in town might know that,” El said with a knowing grin.
“I find that hard to believe, El. This is a small town—”
“Don’t be so close-minded, Aggie. Not everyone knows you personally, you know.”
“True,” Martha added. “The treasure was mentioned in that tabloid, and the whole town might be searching for that map.”
“Or treasure,” El said. “We need to check out your house, just in case. You know, to check and make sure things are okay.”
That’s the last thing I needed to worry about. “We better be careful. The judge was clear that we should not leave East Tawas.”
We both stared at Martha. “I hope you don’t expect me to go over there. I have a date tonight,” Martha said.
“With whom?”
“Ralph from the impound yard. His wife left him, and he needs cheering up.”
“And here I thought you changed your ways,” I gasped.
“It’s not like that, Mother. He’s just a friend.”
“You said date.”
“It’s just a force of habit. Ralph really needs someone to talk to. His wife left him for Jack Winston.”
My eyes widened. “No way! How old is his wife? Jack only d
ates younger women.”
“She’s twenty-five. Ralph met her at the flea market. She was hocking hand-painted T-shirts, and apparently, Jack liked how she looked in them. Ralph really never saw it coming. I mean, Jack is old enough to be his wife’s father.”
I smiled. “That is so classic Jack Winston. I bet he offered to take her on his yacht.”
“He has one?” Martha asked.
“Sure does. I believe he bought it when his wife died, with the insurance money, obviously. I highly doubt his General Motors pension would allow him that kind of luxury.”
Martha frowned as Sheriff Peterson approached. “We took fingerprints, and I’ll let you know if we get any hits,” Peterson said. “I hope the deputies get some leads. It’s hard to believe none of the other campers heard anything.”
“This sure has me rattled,” I said. “I mean, what if this is related to Mildred’s murder? I’d hate to think that someone is now after El and me.”
The sheriff shot a look across the way at Leotyne Williams, a gypsy who was now a permanent resident of the campground, then turned his attention back to us. “I sure hope you girls can prove someone else killed Mildred. For the record, I think you girls are innocent, but Trooper Sales thinks otherwise. Perhaps he doesn’t want to show any favoritism. After all, he is married to your granddaughter, Agnes, but don’t blame the man. He’s just trying to do his job, and anyone found at a crime scene would be a suspect. It only makes sense. I’ve had suspects who reported they found a body and were later proven to be the guilty party.”
“I’m trying not to take this personally, Sheriff, but this case seems more personal all the time. I really believe the camper being ransacked has to do with us being at the Butler Mansion that night. Someone must think we have the treasure map, or that we at least know where it is.”
“With the tabloid article, anything is possible.” Sheriff Peterson bid us goodbye and walked to his car. As he drove away, I couldn’t help but hope that they would find a lead on this case before something happened to El or to me.
When the cruiser was out of sight, we clamored inside the Winnebago, and I was appalled at the damage. Fluff that appeared to be the stuffing from my furniture was layered throughout the camper floor. Why would someone cut up everything like this? I can’t imagine I’d hide a treasure map inside a mattress or couch cushion. “Don’t worry, Martha. I’ll get someone over here pronto to replace the couches and mattresses,” I assured her.
“Before tonight?”
“You can always stay with me,” I suggested.
“No way. Don’t worry. I’ll rent a room at an area motel. It’s not like I’m penniless now.”
I sure liked the sound of that. “Very well. Call me if you need anything else.”
El and I left, and I couldn’t help but worry if this wasn’t the beginning of something malicious. I was more determined than ever to check out my house to assure myself that it was still intact.
Chapter Six
When El and I rolled into my driveway, everything looked okay, but I knew I wouldn’t relax until I checked out the inside. I was also worried that the cops would find out we were here against court orders. The house had just been rebuilt, for Pete’s sake. We parked under a maple tree whose leaves canopied the car (and hopefully concealed it if a cop car happened by). Cautiously, we got out and made way for the door. I turned the knob, but it didn’t budge. It was still locked. I took that as a good sign.
I turned the key in the lock and opened the door, breathing in the smell of the knotty pine-covered walls. I swept my hand upward, turning on the lights, and as they flickered on, not a thing looked out of place. I went to the fridge and grabbed a Diet Coke, offering one to El. We snapped back the tops and guzzled the drinks like we hadn’t had soda in twenty years. We sure needed to get more groceries from Walmart soon. I walked into the bedroom, and again, everything looked as it should, including my mauve comforter.
I made my way back into the living room as a spotlight shone across the front of the house. El and I froze like deer in headlights, finally tiptoeing to the window, where we spotted Trooper Sales’ cruiser.
I walked outside just as he met us, his hand on the holster of his gun. “Oh, it’s you,” he said. “I thought I better check out your house after what happened at your camper. Is everything okay here?”
“Sure is. We’re heading to El’s place now, if you don’t mind.”
“I was already there, and it looks fine. Go back to East Tawas, and I’ll pretend I never saw you here. It was my understanding that the judge told you not to leave town.”
“Yes, but you can’t blame me for wanting to check out my place, at least.”
“Not at all. I think both you and that partner of yours should be extra careful. I know all this treasure in East Tawas is a line of bull, but the truth is that someone in town must believe it, and I’m betting that they think you know something that you don’t.”
I raised a brow at that. “So you think that we’re innocent of Mildred’s murder now?”
“I never said that. We’re still investigating, but your clothing did come back clean.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I groused.
“The timeline is still tight. You either killed Mildred or you arrived at the Butler Mansion directly afterward.”
I smiled. “Of course. Always the consummate trooper, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “I try to do my best. Why not make my job easier and find out who’s responsible for Mildred’s death?”
“Are you giving us permission to investigate this case?”
“No, but I know that’s exactly what you plan to do. I just don’t want to know or hear about it. Got it?”
“Loud and clear,” I said as El and I walked back to the Cadillac.
***
We headed back to the campground in the hopes that Leotyne Williams might have some insight into the elusive treasure map. I braked hard to avoid campers heading from the beach, and once I had put the car into park, Martha waltzed over and greeted us. “Was your house ransacked, too?”
Suddenly, I remembered my cat, Duchess, who had been staying at the trailer with Martha while I sorted this whole thing out. “Course not, but what happened to Duchess, Martha?”
“She must have run off somewhere.”
“Like where?”
“How would I know? I don’t understand why you insisted I look after her while you’re cooling your heels in town.”
“Because I didn’t want to smell up the place where we’re staying. The owner is a friend of Andrew’s, and I wanted to abide by the rules: no pets.”
Martha rolled her eyes and asked a question I’d rather not answer. “So, what’s ole Andrew up to these days? I know you two aren’t shacking up, so what gives?”
“Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean we need to cohabitate, you know.”
“You said it, Aggie,” El said. “Aggie needs her space. I have a similar arrangement with Mr. Wilson. He leaves by eight each night.”
“Oh, really?” Martha asked. “And when was the last time you’ve seen Wilson? Word around town is that he hasn’t been over since he came back from his granddaughter’s house.”
El’s shoulders drooped. “He’s been busy, that’s all. He’s entertaining his granddaughter, Millicent. She’s from Saginaw you know.”
“I see. Well—”
I cut in. “We don’t have time for all this jibber jabber. We need to talk to Leotyne. I expect you to search for my cat, Martha.”
Martha sighed and ran off in search of the cat, while I went over to talk to Leotyne. I rapped on her black trailer, trying to see past the dark curtains, but they were tightly shut, concealing what was inside. Howling could be heard from within, and finally, a rattled Leotyne stepped out, wearing a black dress and black, pointed shoes. “What you want?” she asked in a Romanian accent. “There’s nothing inside to be concerned with,” she insisted.
I wrinkled my f
orehead. “Really, now? Why do I have the feeling that you’re hiding something?”
Her cheeks were sunken as she defended herself. “Whatever do you mean, my loud-mouthed one?” she asked me.
“I-It’s just that.” What is that old bird hiding?
Leotyne bit down on her lip. “Oh, okay then, come inside if you want.”
We followed her inside, and I saw my cat, Duchess, crouching in the back corner of the trailer. “Oh, I see now why you didn’t want us to come inside,” I said accusingly, as I picked up my cat and gave her an affectionate rubbing. “Why did you steal my cat?”
“I didn’t. She just came in all by herself. She happened to be chasing my dog, Satan, at the time.”
I stared at her black Rottweiler. I hardly recognized the dog that had almost reduced me to shreds the first time Leotyne rolled into the campground. That was until my cat chased him away. So it seems her dog is deathly afraid of cats, and here Duchess wasn’t even a black cat. She was grey, but an ornerier cat I have never met. She was good at catching mice. Too bad she then released them into the house.
“I was hoping for a bit of help.” I motioned to her table centered in the room, where a crystal ball was displayed. “We were hoping you’d have some info about the treasure map.”
“It was hidden in a painting at the Butler Mansion,” El informed her. “Maybe you could look for it in that crystal ball of yours.”
Leotyne frowned. “I don’t know why you need my help when you already have the map in your possession.”
I frowned. Earlier, Timothy had forwarded me a picture of the map via his cell, but how could Leotyne know about that? “I was hoping you could find the real map, though. All I have is a picture on my cell phone.”
The psychic sat at the table, and I sat down opposite her. “What do you want to know?” she asked.
Madison Johns - Agnes Barton 05 - Treasure in Tawas Page 5