Peterson took a drink. “Thanks.”
My hands shook as I gulped down the tea. “I-I reached down and felt what I was sure was a hand and it was, but it was getting dark and I thought I better keep ahold of it until you showed up.”
“Good move, it might have floated off and washed ashore somewhere else.”
“I’d hate to find a floater,” El said, wiping her mouth daintily with a napkin.
“Andrew came out and held the body in place, and then you showed up.”
Peterson wrote in his notebook while the bug zapper sizzled insects in the background.
I leaned forward. “The body must have been a woman with the length of the hair, isn’t that right, Peterson?”
“You tell me,” he said.
“I got a tip at Robinson’s manor earlier that I planned to follow up with.”
His eyes were glued to mine. “Like what?”
“I went to Robinson’s Manor the other day and the owner, Frances Bowdine, mentioned that a maid, Connie Bristol—”
El slapped her knees. “She had reported that she saw a ghost if you can believe that.”
I continued ignoring El’s constant interruptions. “The owner said that Connie never showed up for work the next day. I just felt it was important to try and find the woman.”
“Go on,” Peterson said.
“I hate finding the body of someone I’m looking for.”
“Why, Aggie?” Andrew asked.
“When I find a body that happens to be a person I was planning to question. It leaves the sheriff here thinking I’m responsible.”
“I doubt that, sweetheart. You don’t go around killing people.”
“I know but,” I put the nametag on the table and slid it toward Peterson. “I removed this from the body.”
“You what?” Andrew said. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I wanted to wait and tell Peterson first.”
“That’s your smartest move all year,” Peterson said. “But I thought you were investigating the Herman Butler case?” Peterson scratched his shoulder.
“We were, but I thought there may be a connection between the cases.
“What I see is this, Agnes. The whole town is going ghost nuts since those ghost hunters showed up.” Peterson stood up. “You have no clue how many sightings that are being called into dispatch.” He paused, “Darn reality shows will ruin this country.”
“I just thought the ghost angle between Mr. Butler and now Connie might mean something.”
Peterson scratched he neck, “How?”
“We were told that Connie saw a ghost at Robinson’s Manor.”
“Thanks for helping us ID the body, Agnes. If you find out anything else, please share it right away,” he said, completely blowing off the ghost theory. “We’ll be in touch if we need anymore information.”
“And the case about the dead handyman, how is that going?”
“The maid was shopping at Walmart before she discovered the body. Her image was captured on camera.” Peterson cleared his throat. “And the case is still under investigation.”
I nodded as he walked away. “That sounds hopeful.”
“The investigation or Peterson’s attitude?” El asked.
“Both I guess.”
“Well, you have to admit that Peterson has treated you much better than he did on our last case.” She giggled. “He hasn’t arrested us yet.”
I glared at her, “Don’t jinx us!”
“You did save his life.”
“And I never even got so much as a thank you!” I replied.
“Stupid male pride,” El said. “Isn’t that what Evy calls it.”
Andrew interrupted us, “Hey wait a minute you two, now you’re siding with my sister?”
“Now you tell me that she is your sister.”
“You never gave me a chance, Aggie. It was burning me in the worst way.”
“What’s that?”
“That you’d think I’d just run off and hook up with a woman so quick after what we shared?”
“Maybe I should leave,” El suggested.
“No,” Andrew and I chimed. “Besides my car is at your place and you shouldn’t be driving home in the dark,” I said.
“She shouldn’t be driving period.” He smiled.
We drove El home and I retrieved my Mustang. Andrew and I then headed back to the camper.
When I walked toward the camper, I turned to look hesitantly at Andrew as my brow furrowed. “I suppose you’re leaving now?”
“I should really check on Evy, what with dead bodies showing up all across town. We left her at the beach, remember?”
Evy waved from across the way, standing next to a roaring campfire. “You two kids have fun now, I found some people I know. I’ll be fine.”
We walked inside and Duchess did her classic hiss at Andrew and pawed at his leg.
“That cat still doesn’t like me.”
“She’s just mad that you were gone so long.”
Andrew backed me to the counter, his mouth moving in, his body making an unexpected contact with me I hadn’t seen coming. “Wh-What are you doing, mister?”
“This.” His lips captured mine and I was lost in the kiss. I can’t let this happen my mind screamed, but my body spoke otherwise. I finally gave in when my head started spinning, his cologne overwhelming my senses. We ran back to the queen sized bed, our clothing in a pile on the floor within minutes. We reconnected in way only lovers could, and I lost myself in the moment.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I woke up, my limbs entwined around Andrew who was breathing evenly enough to make me believe he was still quite asleep. My mind raced. So much for holding myself back. I just hadn’t wanted this to happen yet. I’m seventy-two and people our age just couldn’t do things like this. I don’t just want Andrew in my bed. I wanted his heart and thus far he hadn’t said the L-word.
Pans clanged in the other room and I knew coffee was brewing from the fragrance drifting from the kitchen. I bolted upright. Martha had to be home because I’m dang sure that Duchess hadn’t learned to make coffee.
“Wh-What?” Andrew tried snuggling me back to him.
“Would you stop it,” I whispered, my daughter is home.”
“Daughter?”
“Yes, my daughter showed up recently and she’s staying here for the time being.” I informed him.
“So, why are you acting like this, Agnes?”
“Because it’s weird and this is why I didn’t want you staying.”
He leaned on an elbow. “Really? You could have fooled me. I think I have claw marks on my back.”
“Stop it,” I whispered. “She’ll hear.”
“She’s not a child, Aggie. I’m sure she understands that her mother needs a little lovin’.”
“Stop it would you. I’m not comfortable about this situation.”
I threw on my robe and went out into the kitchen. Martha was busying herself reading the newspaper and laughing out loud.
I poured myself a cup of coffee as Andrew joined me, clothed thankfully. I then poured him one and we sat at the table. “What’s so funny?” I asked Martha.
She looked up. “Besides the two of you?”
I felt sick to my stomach and cleared my throat. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Next time you hook up leave a bra or something on the door so I’ll know.”
My face began to burn and I didn’t need to look in a mirror to know I was blushing. “I-I,” is all I could choke out.
“I thought poor Duchess had her tail caught in the door with the way it sounded.”
My eyes widened at that and Andrew laughed. “Great comparison, Martha. I’m Andrew by the way.”
“Are you planning to stick around or should I go get a shotgun right now?” Martha asked.
He winked. “I’m sticking around, don’t worry.”
I stirred creamer into my coffee. “You’re not letting me off t
he hook here are you?”
“Nope, but you might want to check out the newspaper. You and Eleanor made the front page.”
I grabbed the newspaper with a white knuckled grip. There was a picture of El and I drenched to the gills the day of the fire at Leotyne’s campsite. “Oh great. I’m going to be a the joke of East Tawas.”
“I think you are already sweetheart. I’ll be leaving, ladies. I have a court date today.” He kissed the top of my head and said on his way out the door. “Try to stay out of trouble.”
I was so distracted by what the newspaper said that I barely heard him. “I’m never going to live this one down.”
“Sure you will, Mom. So, it looks like both of us got a hook up last night.”
“Please, spare me the details.”
“Nate is so sweet.”
I raised a brow. “Isn’t he a little young for you?”
“I like ‘em young.” She made a claw out of her hand. “I’m a real cougar, grrr.”
“I told you I didn’t want to know.”
“You need to lighten up, Mom.”
“So everyone tells me.”
“You should listen if it’s a consensus.”
I rolled my eyes and gulped the rest of my coffee, took a shower, and returned dressed in green crop pants, button up jungle print top and sneakers. “Do you want to go the Clue Game Fundraiser tonight?”
Martha’s eyes lit up. “I sure do. What are your other plans for the day?”
“I want to check out the Butler family cemetery.”
“Do you mind if I tag along, that sounds like fun.”
I shrugged. “Why not, if you promise not to tell El that Andrew spent the night.” She did a motion of zipping her lips.
I waited while Martha threw on a pair of denim shorts that were a tad too short for a woman her age and a scoop-neck, aqua shirt. She also opted for sneakers.
I drove to Eleanor’s and when we arrived, Mr. Wilson was walking to his car and from the looks of it, a smile was plastered to his face. I had never seen the man move that well before.
He waved as he backed up into the trash cans and tore away. “He drives just like Eleanor,” I observed.
“Really? So Eleanor doesn’t drive that well?”
“Haven’t you noticed all the dents on her Caddy, how else you think they got there?”
“I thought she bought it that way.”
“I assure you that the car was dent-free when I bought it for her.”
“You bought her the car? That was sure nice of you.”
When we walked inside, Eleanor was in her underwear whistling along to Hank Williams. I waved at her to get her attention and she beamed. “Hello, girls,” she said. “Great day to be alive isn’t it?”
“I suppose, but our pictures are on the front pages of the Tadium Press.”
“I heard about that. I’ve had a few calls asking for a full interview. It seems like we’re getting more famous.”
Martha lips curved into a smile. “Or infamous.”
“I like your style, Martha.” Eleanor left the room and returned dressed in purple Capri pants and matching dragonfly shirt.
“Don’t forget to wear sneakers, we’re going to the Butler’s cemetery today.”
“In that case I better bring along my rosary beads.” To which she left the room and returned with the black beads clasped in her hands.
“Since when are you Catholic?”
“Never you mind, Aggie.” She turned to Martha. “She always has to have the last word.”
“And that coming from Little Miss Butt-In-Ski.”
Her arms folded across her chest. “Meaning what exactly?”
“That you kept butting in when Peterson was trying to question me last night.”
She stuck her tongue out at me. “Why does it all have to revolve around you all the time?”
“You didn’t find the body.”
Our faces moved closer to each other. “Neither did you, another woman on the beach did.”
Martha separated the two of us. “Ladies, please. We are never going to get anywhere if you two don’t behave. You’re a team, a damn good one from the sounds of it, so cut it out already.”
I gasped. “You’re right. I’m sorry, El.”
El wiped at an invisible tear. “Me too, Aggie.” She then wrapped her arms around me, giving me a huge bear hug.
“I-I can’t breathe,” I choked out.
She released me and the three of us went outside. Eleanor’s eyes widened at the contents of her trash cans that was spilt on the ground. “What is the meaning of this,” she scoffed.
I laughed. “Blame your Mr. Wilson. I must say I haven’t seen the man move with such ease before.”
Eleanor beamed at that. “I know, right? He told me that coming over here is better than physical therapy.”
“You mean you and Mr. Wilson are doing the freaky-deaky too?”
El looked at me curiously. “Too?”
I glared at Martha. “She means she shacked up with one of the G.A.S.P. fellows. Nate I believe.”
Eleanor snickered. “Did he make you gasp, Martha?”
“He sure did. I reckon I made him gasp more, though.”
“Enough with the gasping already,” I said, wiping the sweat that had gathered at my brow. The last thing I needed was for her to find out about Andrew just yet. I wasn’t ready for Eleanor to find out that he spent the night.
We left for the Butler Mansion and brought Martha up to speed on the case including the Butler Foundation. I then parked alongside the highway. There wasn’t a driveway; only a stepping stone pathway led up the hill where the cemetery was located. We waited until all the cars had gone by before we all got out.
“Why are we parking here?” El asked.
“Do you see a road leading to the cemetery?”
“Well, no.”
“Okay then.” I nodded. “Plus, I don’t want anyone to know we are checking out the cemetery is why.”
Martha scanned the wooded area ahead. “Why is that, Mom?”
“Are you two coming or are we gonna debate the subject all day?”
“Lead the way, fearless leader,” El said.
There was a huge patch of mowed grass with a sign that displayed the name, Butler’s Cemetery. It was a plain white sign placed there a few years back to mark the area so people could visit it without going directly to the mansion a hundred yards to the left.
“Oh phewy,” El said as she pointed to the locked fence. “I guess this is a private cemetery.” She strutted toward the car.
Martha stopped her with, “Not so fast, I got this.”
Eleanor dodged forward and we both watched as Martha pulled a long, metal object from her bra. She then walked to the lock and worked her tool until it snapped open. “Ready, ladies,” she said.
I stared up and into a camera, “Shit!”
“Why are you worried, Aggie. The mansion is on lockdown, remember?” El reminded me.
As we entered the pathway, we were practically attacked by dragonflies and sweat bees. “This can’t be a good sign,” El screeched as we swatted at the bugs. The musty dampness of the cemetery messed with my sinuses and I sneezed.
“We’re in the woods. What were you expecting?” I said wide-eyed.
Martha was trembling. “I’m scared. There is something here. I can feel it.”
“Don’t be silly, it’s just a cemetery. Please relax, girls.”
El’s teeth were chattering. “I-I can’t,” her eyes wide as she looked around.
We made it to the first set of tombstones; it was a series of three large stones that were in disrepair. The middle one was carved with the word ‘Mother’ and the one to the left read ’Daughter’, but the one to the right had collapsed.
“Hmm, you can’t read that one at all,” I pointed it out, “And no dates on any of them.”
Still chattering teeth. “I-It’s probably the original ones. M-Most likely from the 1800s, around th
e time when the house was built,” El said,
“Not that I have been near a computer in quite awhile, but surely there has to be some information about the Butler Cemetery online,” Martha said.
“It’s so old there is no information about it online,” I said.
El shook her finger at me. “I know, but Aggie, you don’t even own a computer.”
“I’m so behind the times.” I shrugged, “I used the library computer.”
“You two need to get with the times if you have an investigator business going.”
I rolled my eyes. “That from a woman that lived in South America for years at a time.”
“I needed to throw myself into a noble cause after my divorce.”
“And that cause was what? Forgetting you had a daughter and a mother. You could have come to live with me.”
“Oh mother, really? That is so fifties. Besides we weren’t on the best of terms at the time.”
“And I suppose that is my fault, right?”
“It’s both of ours I suppose, but how was I going to tell you that my marriage was a train wreck?”
“I’m your mother, you could have told me anything.”
“I didn’t live in the same town as you, Mom, and I guess I did withdraw myself from not just you but Sophia.”
“Would you two stop it,” El insisted. “It’s not about what you could have or should have done, it’s time for new beginnings.”
“You’re right, Eleanor. I’m sorry, Martha.”
“Ditto. So why are we here again?”
“I wanted to poke around and see if anything looks out of place is all.”
Eleanor walked a few paces away. “You mean like a grave that has already been dug.”
“Well they are arguing in court about burying Herman Butler here. I expect that they had already dug the grave in anticipation of doing so.”
“Maybe you should step over here and look then.”
I had no clue what El meant by that until I reached to where she stood and my mouth flew open. My hand trembled as I covered my mouth in shock. There were two grave markers engraved with the names, Herman and Betty Lou Butler, both of the graves dug. “Seems like Betty Lou has just moved from suspect to a potential victim.” I gulped.
El took out her cell phone and snapped a picture. “I have to agree with you there Aggie, but how on earth do you explain that to her?”
Madison Johns - Agnes Barton 02 - Grannies, Guns and Ghosts Page 15