“Don’t you dare finish that last statement, but it worries me that her car is hidden away like that. Do you have your pistol on you, El?”
“For what, Aggie?”
“Just in case someone is holding Elsie hostage inside, because there is no way I’m not going inside and checking this out.”
El pulled out her pink Sig and held it against her ample bosom. “I should go first, but how do you think we’re gonna get inside?”
I gave this some thought. “From what I recall, the back door never has latched properly.”
“We could give it a try, but what if someone is inside?”
I gasped. “That’s why we have a gun, silly. Just in case someone tries to get the drop on us.”
El’s lips formed a big “Oh,” and she nodded her agreement.
We walked toward the front, but as we reached the corner of the house, we changed positions and pressed ourselves against the sideboard, and with our best impression of stealth-like movements, we slid our bodies along the back of the house. I listened carefully for any movement or sound inside, but from the looks of it, all of the windows were closed tight. We hunched down a bit to stay under the view of the windows as we passed underneath. I froze briefly at the sound of the barking dogs that I knew were a ruse. Had we set off an alarm?
When we got to the back door, I peeked through the window, but didn’t catch sight of any movement from within. I slowly turned the doorknob, and it pulled the door open. El went in first with raised gun. She then motioned me forward. I glanced around the pantry for signs of an intruder, but not finding one, I closed the door behind me. It was quiet inside, deadly quiet… until I heard the sound of heaving breathing in my ear. With wide eyes, I turned and elbowed El in the ribs to calm her down. She almost gave me a flippin’ heart attack.
I opened the next door, leading into the kitchen. From the looks of it, everything seemed in order. The counters shone like the dickens, and not a thing was out of place. There wasn’t even a dish in the sink. I inhaled sharply, not detecting a hint of coffee … not even old coffee. A pain stabbed me in the gut. I knew that was a bad sign, as Elsie always had coffee on or was brewing a pot. I opened the refrigerator, and there wasn’t even a pitcher of lemonade waiting inside. Oh, God. Panic gripped me for sure now. No way would Elsie not have lemonade made for guests who might happen to stop by. I almost dreaded what we’d find.
Eleanor crept to the dining room, and I followed, taking hold of her shirt. If something happened, I wanted to be able to drag her back. The dining room table looked pristine, with its lace tablecloth perfectly in place like it hadn’t been used in days. In my view, this was another bad sign since this was the place Elsie used most. I spotted her oxygen condenser, and it was silent, the oxygen tubing lying clumsily on the floor. Shit! No way would any senior citizen who used oxygen leave it on the floor like that. We had the good sense to keep something that would be in our noses clean and sanitary. Risk of infections was high among seniors, and those with breathing difficulties were even more at jeopardy.
Inside the living room, the white sofa and loveseat looked in place, aside from one cushion that was askew. That was it for me. I knew somebody had to be here with Elsie. Was an intruder still here, ready to pounce on us at any moment? And what about Elsie? Where was she? She depended on her oxygen like a lifeline. It was imperative that we find her, and soon. “I don’t like this, El,” I whispered.
I jumped when I heard a door rattle directly in front of us. I realized the noise was coming from a closet. I marched straight over there and put an ear to the door. A muffled sound came from inside, but nothing more. I swung the door open, and a bound and gagged Elsie Bradford fell over, knocking me to the ground.
I was breathing as hard as she was. Without a word, El and I went into action. I removed Elsie’s gag while El ran and fired up the oxygen condenser. As it rattled on, I extricated myself from under Elsie and yanked a wet nap from my purse, swiped the nosepiece of the oxygen tubing, and then put it into Elsie’s nostrils. Her face was quite pale, and tears dripped from her blue eyes. Eleanor retrieved scissors to cut the binds that tied Elsie, and we helped her to the couch. I called 911, alerting them to send an ambulance, and quick.
“What happened, Elsie?” I asked. “When you’re ready to talk, I mean.”
“Why is Eleanor holding that gun?” Elsie asked with widened eyes.
It was only then that I noticed that Eleanor still held the revolver in her right hand. She promptly put on the safety and placed it back in her purse.
“Sorry,” El said. “We weren’t sure if we’d run into trouble. I wanted to be ready in case an intruder was inside.”
“Th-Thanks, girls, but getting back to what happened—that damn nephew of mine held me hostage. He stole all of my jewelry and tied me up. Bastard shoved me in that damn closet.”
“Timothy? We just saw him yesterday. We had hoped to question him.”
“I’d love to get my hands on him and choke the hell out of him. It’s not enough that I lost my sister, but now, I have a nephew who is nuts to boot. Do you think he killed my sister?”
I had to think. “I’m not sure, but he was next on our list to question. I just never understood why he’d give us a treasure map like that. If he was that strapped for cash, it would make more sense if he’d kept it to himself.”
“I hadn’t seen him for years before his mother was murdered, but I know he’s been down on his luck for a while now.”
“How soon after her death did he show up in town?”
“I-I don’t know, but he lives in Caro, so it shouldn’t have taken him long to get here, I suspect.”
“Well, that’s still quite a drive from East Tawas.” I couldn’t help but wonder about Mel. Was Timothy as sore with him as he’d acted at the funeral home, or was that a deliberate plan?
“I suppose you’re right, Agnes. Thanks, girls, for saving me. It was so hard trying to breathe in that damp closet, and it didn’t help that I was without my oxygen.”
“How long do you figure you were in there?”
“I don’t know, but be a dear and fetch my blood sugar machine, would you? I feel so weak.”
I ran to the bathroom where Elsie’s glucose meter, test strips, and lancets were kept. I brought back the items, loaded the poker with a fresh lancet, and swiped her finger with an alcohol pad, then air-dried it. She winced at the poke, and I applied a droplet of blood to the test strip. My eyes widened when it read 40. I ran into the kitchen and brought a spoonful of sugar and placed it under her tongue. It might just buy her some time until the ambulance gets here. It’s all I could do now because Elsie had nodded off. My gut just dropped.
El’s eyes widened at the sound of sirens, and she ran to the door, opening it for the first responders as they ran forward with a gurney. I gave them a quick rundown, telling them what had happened and how low her blood sugar was.
El and I stood there helpless as they went to work on her, and administered an injection that I hoped was something to get her blood sugar up to a safe level. Sheriff Peterson strode in the door with an unreadable expression on his face. “What happened here?”
“We stopped by to question Elsie’s nephew, Timothy, and we had reason to believe Elsie might be in trouble, so we came in to check on her.”
“Why is it that you felt she might be in trouble?”
“Well, her car was in the garage, and she never keeps it in there, for one. So we came inside to check it out.”
He scratched his arm. “And it never occurred to either of you to call the police to check it out?”
El and I exchanged a look, and I said, “No. I wasn’t sure you’d take it seriously.”
“I think I would have. Elsie is an old woman. There’s no telling what might have happened.”
“Her nephew, Timothy, is what happened. He held Elsie hostage and stole all of her jewelry.”
“He had poor Elsie tied up in a closet,” El added.
�
�She was awake enough when we found her to tell us who did it and how he fostered off her jewels.”
“It’s a good thing, too,” El said. “Agnes took her blood sugar right before Elsie nodded off. She put a spoonful of sugar under her tongue.”
“Smart thinking,” a paramedic said. “It might have just bought her more time until we arrived. Hey, didn’t I see you two at the last call?”
Peterson’s eyes bulged. “What call?”
“Oh, we found Sophia on the floor of her house, and El and I delivered her baby.”
“What? Really?” He laughed. “It’s no wonder I can’t get Sales on the phone today.”
My heart thumped when I asked, “Why were you trying to reach him?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Agnes?”
“Actually, she would,” El said with a sly smile. “Does it have anything to do with Mildred’s death?”
“Andrew Hart has already been by to ask for a timeline, but I’m not sure if I should let you two off the hook that easily. That’s what I wanted to discuss with Trooper Sales before any decisions were made.”
“So the timeline clears us, is that it?”
“I’m keeping my mouth closed about that one. Right now, I’m more concerned about questioning Elsie when she wakes up.”
“She named her assailant. Isn’t that enough?”
“It’s a start, but she might be able to add a few details—unless you already asked her why Timothy did it. He had a chance and opportunity to kill Elsie, but he didn’t.”
“Well, locking up a woman who depends on oxygen in a closet and depriving her of it…? It sure wasn’t going to go well for Elsie if we hadn’t arrived when we did.”
Peterson pulled out his notepad and jotted down that bit of information. “Good point.”
“He might be a probable suspect in his mother’s death, too. Of course, you’d have to check out his alibi—if he has one.”
“Then there’s his appearance at KFC yesterday,” El said. “I wonder if the jewelry the Cat Lady found there belongs to Elsie.”
“That doesn’t make sense, El. If he’s as down on his luck as we were told, he’d want to keep the jewelry all to himself,” I told her.
Sheriff Peterson didn’t even raise a brow as he returned to his notebook. “And who said that?”
“Elsie said as much. Timothy lives in Caro, if that helps.” I then told Peterson about Mel Pifton and how he had produced a receipt from Standish, incidentally claiming an alibi for the time of Mildred’s death.
Not one to be left out of the mix, El informed the Sheriff that Mel Pifton was at one of the places listed on the treasure map.
“A treasure hasn’t really been found, though, has it?” Peterson asked.
I swallowed hard. “Not that I’m aware,” I lied. I just wasn’t ready to spill all of the beans, but I did want to help Peterson out with his investigation if it led to another person of interest in Mildred’s death, hopefully leading it away from El and me.
“So, does this treasure map that the tabloid released have anything to do with Mildred’s death?” Peterson asked.
“I just don’t know yet, but we’ll keep you in the loop. I have no idea what, if anything, this treasure hunt means.”
“It’s causing quite a stir, and they had an article in the Detroit Free Press about what’s going on here in town, which will only make matters worse. Now reporters from ABC, CBS, and even CNN are coming to town, which is a major pain in the ass, to say the least.”
Wow, major news crews coming into East Tawas. “That’s so not good. I had a talk with the kid that runs the tabloid and told him to cool his jets. I thought he planned to quit running his magazine.”
“Fat chance. He released more information early today, claiming he was receiving pressure to quit reporting the truth. What did you say his name was?”
I gulped. Should I tell the sheriff or keep it to myself? “What good would it do to question him? I mean, he’ll just fabricate more outlandish stories. Plus, you’ll have your hands full with all that major media in town.”
“Not to mention treasure seekers.”
My eyes widened at that. “It figures. How on earth is this town going to handle any more chaos?”
“Exactly my point,” Peterson said. “I’ll do my best to clear your names, but finding Timothy Winfree is my top priority. Anyone desperate enough to tie and gag his own elderly aunt is capable of just about anything. Please, be careful, ladies. You’re free to leave.”
I nodded, thankful to be allowed to leave before El or I divulged more information than we had planned. Once we were belted into the Cadillac, I asked El, “Do you really think that what we found was part of Elsie’s jewelry and not the treasure?”
“No way,” El muttered. “The jewelry we found was much heavier. I can’t imagine Elsie had anything but fine jewelry.”
“Of course, you’re right, and I guess when she’s more herself we can get an inventory, but why would Timothy have an interest in planting jewelry as treasure if he was down on his luck?”
“Unless he has an ulterior motive,” El said. “Like, he’s really up to something far more sinister.”
“More sinister than tying up Elsie? He’s one sick puppy for doing that.”
“Well, she has a way at times to make me want to gag her, too,” El said with a laugh, but when I shot her a look, she quickly added, “Just kidding.”
“No, you weren’t, El, but seriously, don’t say something like that. Elsie might die for all we know. Her blood sugar was mighty low.”
“I know, but that’s one tough old bird. She’s just stubborn enough to exact revenge of her own.”
El giggled at that. “I can’t imagine her doing that, but thanks for the visual.”
“Yes, can’t you just see Elsie buying a gun and hunting that nephew of hers down like a dog?”
El shook her head. “That sure would be funny. Who needs to worry about Dirty Harry when there’s Elsie Bradford, pissed-off socialite?”
I chuckled, but in theory, it wasn’t a half bad idea. Elsie never struck me as the type to allow anyone to slight her, and I wondered if she’d be driven just crazy enough with her ordeal to take the law into her own hands. Sure, it was easy to stuff her in a closet once, but for Timothy’s sake, he’d better stay hidden, at least from Elsie. As for me and El, we needed to find him, and soon. If not, then all bets might be off, as we were currently all out of leads.
Chapter Fourteen
El and I drove past news trucks driven by people I knew weren’t locals. “Drat, ole Peterson was not fibbing a bit. How are we going to conduct our investigation with Big Brother watching our every move, El?”
“Since when has that bothered you?”
“It hasn’t, but it bugs me to no end that our treasure hunting days are over. I suppose there’s no sense in us checking out the next business on the list.”
El shrugged. “Oh, why not? Besides, the next site on the map is the East Tawas State Dock.”
My eyes widened as I stared overhead. The sun was lower on the horizon, and all I could think at this point was: Where in the world would hidden treasure possibly be in a place as big as the pier? Luckily, a car had just pulled out of the handicapped spot when I pulled into the parking lot, and I whizzed into it, placing my sticker in the window. We got out, and I locked the doors via the handheld push button controller.
There was quite a crowd for this time of the day. Usually, the area was pretty quiet. But today, a line had formed going into the tiny bait shop, and I wondered why. Recently, East Tawas hadn’t been as good a fishing spot as in previous years. I figured it was due to the fisheries fishing out all the Lake Perch, but that’s just my opinion. During the seventies and early eighties, you could get a bucketful of fish right there from the dock. Sure, there were still diehard fishermen, but the numbers of fish caught were fewer than in the past. A good number of yachts and sailboats made good use of the pier and docked there until late fall
.
I strolled toward the dock, trailing behind a man from ABC who held a large camera and was silently observing. The man was accompanied by a woman with long, flowing blonde hair. Neither of them spoke to us, so El and I made our way around them.
As we continued on, men were feeling their way under the rim of the dock. In my opinion, the only thing they’d find doing that would be spiders and bugs. “I can’t expect to find anything here, Aggie. Way too many people around, for sure.”
“If I were the treasure, where would I hide?” I mused aloud.
“Nowhere is where. I’m expecting to find a hidden camera here.”
“And why do you think that, El?”
“Because it’s just too ridiculous to think any treasure is hidden here, that’s why.”
“I agree with you on that,” a male voice behind us said.
I turned to find an amused Andrew Hart—my sweetie. “Where did you come from?” I asked.
“I saw you pulling in here, and I wondered what you two were up to. No good, I see.”
“We’re just checking out the next site on that treasure map, but it’s a complete wash. There is no way anything is hidden here,” I choked out. Then I smiled and told Andrew how El and I had delivered Sophia’s baby earlier in the day.
“Wow, you had one heck of a day. How are Sophia and the baby doing now?”
“I’m not sure. I decided to give her and Bill some space.”
His face dropped. “You mean we aren’t going to the hospital? I had hoped to see the new addition to the family.”
That had me completely baffled, as that was the first time Andrew had ever said anything that related to my family like that. He said it like he was a part of it, or wanted to be. I just hoped that wasn’t the case. Sure, I loved Andrew, but I hoped he wasn’t thinking about anything too permanent, like marriage. I was too old to think about something like that. In my view, marriage was for the younger folks, not seasoned seniors like me.
“Maybe you’re right, Andrew. Sophia might be disappointed if we don’t show.”
We left the crowded dock, and as we made for the parking lot, we saw that kid Chuck selling copies of his tabloid to a group of tourists. “This edition includes the treasure map,” he said.
Madison Johns - Agnes Barton 05 - Treasure in Tawas Page 12