“Great idea, El.” I positioned the car directly facing the body on the ground and hurried back to El and Teresa.
“That’s Earl Perkins!” Teresa shouted. “He’s worked here for like, forever.”
“Really?” I said.
“Yes, he also works as a gravedigger,” Teresa added.
I took a step back, “You mean for the cemetery here?”
“Among others. Smaller cemeteries still dig them by hand.”
“Yuck,” Eleanor sneered. “I’m all for cremation.”
“Really? That’s good to know. As for me I just want to be buried right next to my husband at Forest Lawn in Saginaw, Michigan. It’s right near where Mr. Burt’s Mausoleum is.”
“Who is Mr. Burt?” Teresa asked.
“Wellington Burt was a lumber baron and was the eighth richest man in America a century ago.” I took in a breath. “He may have also been the stingiest as he didn’t leave his family a dime of his fortune.”
“He had one humdinger of a will,” El cut in.
“The will didn’t pay his descendants a dime until twenty-one years after his last living grandchild had died. That’s every living relative he had at the time.” I smiled in the darkness. “I might as well tell you what I think is an interesting story seeing as how I can’t see a thing.”
“That is one tough cookie,” Teresa said. “Some men have some peculiar wills.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” El agreed.
“The Butler’s had a strange will too,” she began. “It seems that only a true Butler relative can inherit the fortune, but if none exist, the Butler Foundation inherits everything.
“Fortune,” El gasped. “You mean…”
“Not just the mansion,” I cut in?
“Nope, they were in shipping, big. It seems that married to a Butler isn’t enough. When Herman inherited the fortune, he signed a clause which bars his wife from inheriting a dime.”
“And the mansion?” I asked.
“She can’t lay claim to that either.”
“Was there also a clause stating that he had to be buried on the property too?”
“Yup.”
“This is one humdinger of a will,” El said.
I did wonder about Herman’s daughter, but for some reason I held back. Perhaps it was the body that laid here on the ground, or the breeze that blew suddenly, as if without warning.
Just then, lights lit up to where we stood as the sheriff’s car and three state police cruisers raced forward with lights flashing.
We were like deer in headlights, in fact, I think I saw a few dart away at their approach.
Trooper Sales led the pack as a spotlight lit up the area where the body lay. The man’s neck was bent at an odd angle… just like Herman Butler. I gazed up at the gloomy mansion and gulped hard. The body laid in the same approximate area where Herman Butler’s body was discovered.
“Who called?” Trooper Sales asked.
“I did,” Eleanor said. “Teresa here found the grave digger dead.”
I cut in, “That’s Earl Perkins on the ground there,” I said. “Poor Teresa was so upset that she came to tell us and we called 911 en-route.”
“That’s good and all, but Miss you do know you should call the police first,” Sheriff Peterson said in an authoritative tone.
“She was scared to death, poor dear,” I countered. “It’s dark out already and she’s all alone out here.”
“Yeah, Sheriff. You can’t blame the maid for panicking!” El shouted.
“That’s enough. The boys from the crime lab will be here soon,” Peterson said.
I shivered myself. Two dead bodies was two too many in my opinion.
“I’m afraid Agnes and Eleanor you will need to give us an official statement,” Peterson said.
“I already told you, Teresa came to the campground and told us she found a body on the property.”
“And we came to check it out,” El added.
“And it was here just like she said. Teresa can tell you the rest.” I swiped at my brow. “I personally don’t know the man,” I turned to face Eleanor, “how about you, El?”
“I know he works out at the Butler Mansion, but that’s all.”
“I see,” Sales said. As he faced Teresa, she began to cry. “Why were you here when police tape is all over the place?”
“I just wondered if it had been removed is all.”
I put a finger in the air, “And about that, Sales, why is police tape in place. I thought the medical examiner decided not to do an autopsy.”
“I know, but the state police is still investigating.”
“That’s not what Sheriff Peterson said.”
“Not reading your emails again, Peterson?” Sales asked.
“Oh darn, it must be in the spam folder,” he joked. “Actually, I believe what I said was the sheriff’s department wasn’t investigating.”
“Laugh it up, Sheriff. It’s not like we don’t have another body to contend with,” I spat.
Peterson got really serious, sort of, “We could flip a coin on who gets to file the report.”
“He’s joking,” Sales said, “We’ll both be here for the remainder of the night most likely.” To which the sheriff grumbled. “Go on home ladies, we’ll be in touch, but I hope I won’t see you any sooner than the next police fundraiser.”
I whirled at that. “I sure hope you make damn sure an autopsy is performed this time.”
“Go on home and let us do our jobs, Agnes,” Sales said.
“Do you mind if we check out the inside of the mansion before we leave”? I asked.
“Not happening, Agnes. You should know better than that by now,” Peterson snapped.
“I know, I know, but I’m staying until…”
Peterson stepped forward, “No, you’re leaving now or I’ll be placing you under arrest.”
“That won’t go well with your superiors.”
“Don’t think for a minute they will supersede my decisions, so you might want to do what you’re told this time,” he paused. “I’d hate to see you to lose your gun permit.”
I gasped at that. I bet! “We’ll go, but I’m doing so under protest,” I huffed.
“Should I take that as a sign of your compliance?”
El and I turned as we heard Teresa speak. “Betty Lou and the G.A.S.P. were here earlier in the day.”
I ran forward. “Why didn’t you say that before?”
“W-Well, it just occurred to me,” Teresa whined.
“I’m sorry dear, didn’t mean to bite your head off.”
“Well there is a full moon tonight, Aggie,” Eleanor pointed out.
Ignoring El, “How do you know they were here?”
“Yes,” Peterson asked, “How, considering the mansion is locked up.”
“Well, I saw them fly out of the drive, they nearly ran into my car.”
“And you were sure Betty Lou was in their van?”
“Agnes!” Peterson bellowed as his handcuffs slapped against each other.
El and I took a few steps back as a show we were really leaving and Teresa finally said, “I’m sure she was in their van, she was sitting in the passenger seat.”
“What time?” I pressed.
“I’m not sure. I-I didn’t really look at the clock.”
“Who is G.A.S.P?” Sales cut in.
“Ghost hunters,” I said and continued on, “You weren’t worried that the trio would somehow get inside the house?”
“No, the state police were real insistent that we were not to return until the investigation was over.”
“A rule obviously you all ignored,” Peterson pointed out.
“Did they drag Betty Lou bodily from the property?” I asked.
El cut in, “Yeah, don’t seem like the widow would just up an leave like that, even if the fuzz told her to.”
“True, El, she’s fighting over the remains, why not fight about being ousted if this house belonged to her late husband?”
> “She didn’t fuss much at all since none of us really had a choice,” Teresa said.
“Are there any cameras on the premises?” I asked.
Teresa paused as in thought for a moment and then shook her head.
“Special locks?”
“Well, I did hear the Butler Foundation had changed the locks, with the state police’s permission; of course, to secure the property.”
“Do you know who the Butler Foundation is?”
“I’m not sure about who the members are if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Surely you met them before,” I pressed. “Are you positive that—”
“I’ve had enough. Sales do something about the busybodies or they’ll be in the back of my squad car!” Peterson shouted.
“He’s right ladies, you can catch up with the maid at a later date.”
“We’ll be back!” Eleanor shouted.
El and I wandered back to the Caddy. “It just burns me to be interrupted just when I was getting somewhere.”
We piled into the Caddy and passed the forensics van on our way back home.
“Teresa has placed Betty Lou at the crime scene at least earlier. I just wonder…”
El cleared her throat. “I just wished we had proof she was there.”
“The maid said the locks had been changed.”
“Still, Aggie, I wonder if Betty Lou somehow found a way inside?”
“Teresa never said, El, but that’s a great question.” I then shrugged, “If a body wants to get into a house they will if they’re sneaky enough.”
“Like how?”
“Pick locks, breaking and entering, window left open.” My hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Even though I can’t see Betty Lou as a crawling through a window type.”
El slapped her hands together, “One of G.A.S.P. could have done it.”
I laughed at that with the mental image that conjured up. “True, Eleanor.”
“And the Butler Foundation is starting to sound like goons,” I said.
“True, Aggie,” she shuddered.
“Butler Foundation indeed.” I said as I dimmed the high beams. “Are you familiar with them, El?”
“I know they’re a charity organization, but the members never show up to any of their fundraisers.”
“How is that?
“Apparently they set up the parties and hire all the help, but according to the the newspaper they’d prefer to remain anonymous.”
“Sounds like a bunch of crooks to me.”
“Crooks that don’t want Herman Butler cremated for some reason,” El agreed.
My stomach growled. “Want to stop by Fuzzy’s Ice Cream for a quick bite?”
El slapped her hands together. “That’s the best idea so far.”
Chapter Fifteen
I roared my way toward the nearest Fuzzy’s that was located in Tadium, a short drive from Tawas. When we walked in, I was taken aback by the fact that both ghost hunters were here, and Betty Lou!
We shuffled in and sat down at our usual table as Sally Alton walked over. She wore shorts and a white Fuzzy’s tee, her apron smeared with the colors of thirty-eight flavors, her blond hair pulled back into a tight braid.
She smiled in greeting. “It’s kinda late for the two of you isn’t it?”
I nodded. “We’ll have the usual.”
“One pineapple sundae with the works and a banana split for the champ over there,” referring to Eleanor. Sally moved behind the counter, returning five minutes later with our delicious concoctions.
El laughed nervously. “I hear your grandparents are out of town.”
She leaned in. “Are you missing my grandma, or your weekly fights?”
El scoffed. “Well… I…”
I raised my hand. “Fights get my vote.”
“How are you gonna get on the wall of shame if you don’t have nobody to scrap with here?” Sally asked, motioning to the wall on the right.
Sure enough there were pictures of Eleanor and Dorothy Alton in the midst of an ice cream fight. It looked like seniors gone wild because most if not all of the pictures were of senior-aged folks. Problem was you don’t have to do too much to set the seniors off in this town. I smiled and knew I ranked up there too. I just choose not to make them an ice cream-filled episode. I’d much rather eat ice cream than wear it.
I ate my pineapple sundae, keeping a watchful eye on Betty Lou and the boys from G.A.S.P. They were huddled together and spoke in hushed tones and that just wouldn’t do for me.
I stood up and approached the trio. “Hello there boys, Mrs. Butler.” I gave her a curt nod. “I’m so sorry to hear about your troubles.”
Eleanor gasped. “That must be awful having to postpone the funeral.” She wiped at an invisible tear. “I dare say that would just be too much for me.” She quivered.
Betty Lou looked up at us, her eyes more than a little red. Had she been drinking or was she really upset about her husband?
“Somehow I’m not feeling it, ladies,” she said.
“I’m quite an investigator you know,” I volunteered. “And is it also true that you were put out of your house?”
“Yes, you got that one right. When the law tells you they are locking the place up, you can’t protest. I left at the time because I figured it was for the best, but now—I can’t even dispose of my husband’s remains. They told me it was just a matter of paperwork.” She hung her head.
“What was, dear?”
“The house I mean. He assured me things would be cleared up in a few days.”
El spoke up. “Then they did the whole slap you with an order contesting the cremation, huh?”
She cried. “Yes. He’s my husband, not theirs.” She massaged her brow like it ached something fierce and I had half a mind to believe Betty Lou might be telling us the truth.
I handed her a napkin to dot her eyes. “Who is Mr. Simpleton?”
“He’s the lawyer.”
“So this lawyer shows up and convinces you to leave, and at the time, never brings up the topic of the burial in the cemetery.”
“He mentioned there was a family plot, not that my husband had to be buried there.”
“Very odd indeed,” I said. “Not going to be an easy case to tackle,” I paused. “Have they let you go back in the mansion since you were ousted?”
She laughed just then. “Well, we kinda tried to get in tonight earlier.” She motioned to the ghost hunters. “Nate and Troy wanted to do a little ghost hunting, but police tape was still over the door.”
El bit her knuckle. “Oh my, so you were at the house tonight.”
“Y-Yes, why do you ask?”
I patted her hand. “It seems there was another little accident at the Butler Mansion tonight.”
She gasped. “You don’t say?”
Nate’s eyes were all a-glow, “What kind of accident?”
“It seems another man fell to his death from the upstairs window,” I said.
“And the maid?” Betty Lou inquired. “Where was she at the time?”
“She just drove by to see if the police tape had been removed,” I informed her.
“Likely story. She probably offed him herself.”
I smiled kindly, “And for what possible motive, dear?”
“I-I don’t know, but she might have killed my husband too.”
“I thought you said a ghost pushed him to his death?” I countered.
“I’m not sure… It’s all so very confusing. I did hear plenty of sounds and saw a few apparitions too.”
El rubbed her hands, “Seems plausible. I-I mean, I believe in ghosts.”
I narrowed my eyes at El and turned back to Betty Lou. “It makes for a tough swallow for most folks. You don’t hear of many cases like that.”
Troy raised his index finger in the air. “Nate and I have seen many things during our ghost investigations.”
Nate raised his fist into a claw-like hand. “I had a nasty encounter with a
poltergeist, and I was thrown across a room!” His face whitened as he spoke.
Troy tipped his head and visible shook as if in remembrance. “That was just one case. I have been attacked too, clawed and briefly possessed.”
I shook my head; it was getting too deep in here for me. “It’s pretty hard to prove things like that. I’m really more of a facts type of girl.” I snapped my fingers.
“You’re an unbeliever, Aggie. You’re just not open to the possibilities most of us are.”
“Eleanor, that’s not true. It’s just how we gonna prove a ghost pushed a man or now—two, out a window to their death?”
Troy cleared his throat. “If we could get into that mansion, we might be able to get some type of evidence.”
“Not sure how,” El said. “I heard the locks were changed.”
“Right, El, and now with a second body found on the property, I don’t see the police tape being removed any time soon.”
“I’m not sure about what is happening, but Herman was a real kind soul. I had no deadly intentions toward him,” Betty Lou said, frowning. “He was the best catch—I-I mean man I could have married.”
El’s face became animated. “It would be pretty darn stupid to off the groom the day after the wedding. He was up there in age, he might not have lasted much longer after the wedding night.”
“How true you are, El.” I glanced down and asked Betty Lou, “Do you know who the Butler Foundation is?”
“No, I just know they seem to be holding all the cards right now,” Betty Lou said sadly.
I paused a moment and said, “So besides Mr. Simpleton, you had no contact with any of the foundation members?”
Her eyes widened. “Not at all. Do you know who they are?”
“Not yet, but I’ll be looking into the matter.”
“We’ll be,” El added.
“I’d so appreciate any help you can offer.”
She handed me a card with her phone number. “How can I reach you G.A.S.P.?” I couldn’t help but smile every time I said that word—ghosts—gasp, too funny.
They handed me their cards and I glanced down at their empty bowls of ice cream almost seeing a reflection of sorts. I shook my head for such silly thoughts. Now I’m seeing apparitions in empty bowls that I knew were mirroring the light fixtures overhead. Even now, the ceiling fan was moving at quite the clip, shaking the white globe beneath it.
Madison Johns - Agnes Barton 02 - Grannies, Guns and Ghosts Page 10