The Mystery Sisters series Box Set

by Karen Musser Nortman

  “Look. Here’s a new dent on the bumper and a bigger one on the fender.”

  “Maybe some kids were throwing rocks?” Lil said, hopefully.

  “I don’t know, but I’ll have the sheriff check it out.”

  Tess asked, “Do you want to go in by yourself, or should we come too?’

  “I’ll be fine—,” Max started and then changed her mind. “You know what? Let’s all go. If he does tell me anything important, I want witnesses. Besides, I think we should stick together.”

  Max grabbed her water bottle from the makeshift holder. Interrogation could be thirsty work. They trooped up to the stoop, and Max rapped on the door. They were about to give up when she heard shuffling inside and the door opened a crack.

  A man peered out. His dark hair was wet and disheveled, his eyes baggy and his skin pockmarked. He wore loose green shorts and a disreputable gray tee shirt with some saying about hogs.

  “Pete Murphy?” Max asked.

  He nodded.

  “You may not remember me. I’m Donnie Jacobsen’s sister Maxine, and this is my sister Lil and our friend Tess Robinson.”

  Pete said, “I know Tess. Haven’t seen you two in ages, though.”

  “Can we come in? We wanted to ask what you know about Donnie’s whereabouts Friday night.”

  “Um, sure.” He looked around behind him as if he didn’t know what was there. “It’s kind of a mess. I just got up.” But he opened the door wider and they entered.

  Pete grabbed some clothes off the couch and a stack of books from a wooden chair. The trailer living space didn’t seem dirty, but it was messy. “Have a seat.”

  Max took the chair while Lil and Tess sat on the couch. Pete remained standing.

  Max took a deep breath and began. “I’m sure you are aware of Donnie’s predicament?” She waited until he nodded and then continued. “Our problem is that he doesn’t remember much of anything that happened Friday night after he left our sister Carol’s house. He thinks he was out here with J.P. and you.”

  “Yeah, he was. J.P. brought him out.”

  “But J.P. says he didn’t take Donnie back to town.”

  Pete shrugged and ran his hand through his tangled hair, giving him a startled appearance. “Donnie said he was going to sleep on my couch, but he passed out in the yard, and we just left him there. The next morning when I got up and Donnie wasn’t in here, I just assumed he was still outside. I didn’t know until about ten that he was gone.”

  “What did he talk about?” Lil asked. “Was he upset?”

  Pete shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced out the window. He shuffled his feet and looked back at her.

  “Yee-aah, he was.” He fidgeted and looked at his feet. “He went on and on about Dutch and how much damage Dutch’s book could do to your family’s reputation.”

  Max said. “It couldn’t be damaged much more than it already is. And Donnie doesn’t even live here any more.”

  “That’s what we tried to tell him.” He gave the women a pleading look. “But—I had to tell Sheriff Burns when he asked what Donnie talked about. If I didn’t, and J.P. did, I could be in a world of trouble.”

  “I understand,” Max said, although she didn’t think it would be all that serious if he had kept his mouth shut. “So you don’t have any idea how he got back to town?”

  Pete shrugged. “He could’ve walked, I guess. It’s about two-and-a half or three miles.”

  Lil cocked her head. “Was he in any shape to walk that far?”

  “I didn’t think so. Maybe someone picked him up?”

  Max got up. “Well, thanks for your time. I’m kind of surprised to find you still around. Didn’t you go out east to college?”

  “Yeah, Dartmouth, but just two years. Then Dad lost everything with a bad investment. I dropped out and got a job.” He held the door open for them.

  Max took a swig from her water bottle and snapped the cap back on. “I’m sorry to hear that. Was that after your dad retired?”

  “Yeah, and by then the Jacobsen plant was sold. Otherwise, he probably would have gone back to work.”

  Max grabbed the railing to help herself down the rickety steps, hoping her knees didn’t give out. “Thanks again. We’re hoping Donnie gets out on bail sometime today.”

  “Um, good. Glad to hear that.”

  Max swung the bottle by its strap as they walked toward the Studebaker. “He wasn’t much help.” The bottle slipped out of her hand and rolled under the yellow Volkswagon.

  “Crap!” She crouched down to avoid getting the knees of her pants muddy. The bottle had rolled into a large puddle under the car, but she managed to reach it by stretching to her limit. She pulled her arm back and noticed a streak of mud or grease across her sleeve. At this rate she was going to have to go shopping—not her favorite pastime.

  “Help me up.” She held her hand up. Tess gripped it and pulled her to her feet. She straightened her clothes and looked around. The lot exhibited the same messiness as the inside of the trailer. A busted bike, a couple of oil cans and an overflowing garbage can did nothing for curb appeal. But, in spite of the low hanging clouds, the lake still provided a lovely view.

  “Bill Murphy would be very disappointed in his son. Of course, Dad would feel the same about Donnie.” They reached her car and she looked again at the dents in it. This trip was one disaster after another.

  Chapter Eleven

  They returned to town and Max dropped Tess off at her home. Then she drove to the sheriff’s office.

  Sheriff Burns was just straightening his desk preparing to leave. He looked up as Max and Lil walked in.

  “Your sister already picked’im up,” he said, with a slight smile.

  “Thank you, but that’s not why we’re here. We took a drive out to the lake after the picnic, and I think someone shot at us.” Max waved her hand at the open door. “They hit my car. Would you take a look?”

  Burns gawked at them. “Shot at you? How do you know?”

  “We heard something hit the car. I thought maybe you could tell. I’ll need to file a police report for my insurance.”

  “If someone was shooting at you, there’s more serious issues than your insurance. Show me.”

  He followed them out to the car. Sheriff Burns’ eyes widened.

  “Wow! An old Studebaker? What year is this?”

  “’50,” Max said, caressing the front fender.

  “Beautiful.” He admired the sleek design with the wrap around rear window. “Where do you think you got hit?”

  Max showed him.

  “You sure it wasn’t rocks being thrown up from the road?” the sheriff asked.

  “I’m not sure of anything. It only happened in one place. If it was loose gravel, it would have been more than that.”

  “Maybe—maybe not. Normally, I would be inclined to write it off as gravel, but you’ve had kind of a rough weekend. Somebody’s not happy you’re here, so we’ll check it out.” He bent over the dent again. “Could have been done by a 45. Since it didn’t leave a hole, it was probably something that shoots a large diameter relatively slow-moving bullet like 45 caliber model 1911. They’ve been made by pretty much every manufacturer that has been making guns since they were introduced back in 1911.”

  “I don’t know anything about guns,” Max said.

  “Been a standard sidearm for officers in the military—lot of ‘em around. Like I said, I’ll do some checking. You didn’t hear any shots?”

  “No, but it was during the storm, and there was a lot of thunder and lightning.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why were you headed to the lake during a storm like that?”

  Whoops. Max knew that would raise questions and let it slip anyway. “Well, we went out to talk to Pete Murphy. He and Donnie were friends and—”

  “I know who he is and I had already interrogated him.”

  “He told us that.”

  He shook his head. “Let’s get a report filed on the dam
age for your insurance.” He turned and headed back into the office but asked over his shoulder, “Did you learn anything?”

  “Not really,” Lil said.

  “I didn’t think so. They either were all really out of it and don’t remember anything or they’re all in cahoots to protect Donnie.”

  Max wisely held her tongue.

  It was late afternoon when Max pulled into Carol and Bob’s driveway and parked her car to the side of Carol’s. The sun had finally emerged from the clouds, but had disappeared behind the house, leaving the east-facing patio in shade. Most of the family had gathered there. Some had already left; Gary and Sheri’s motorhome was gone from its spot beside the barn.

  Sharon and Bob were bringing out trays of drinks and snacks. The children and Rosie were chasing each other around the yard. Rosie broke away from the games when she heard Max’s car and raced up to greet her.

  Carol, Harold, Ernie, and Kim were all on the patio surrounding Donnie. He turned as they approached and walked to them, giving both of his sisters a hug. Rosie stood by, expectantly awaiting attention

  As Max stepped back from her brother, she looked down and noticed an ankle bracelet. She pointed down and raised her eyebrows in question.

  “They’re not saying I’m no longer a suspect yet. I’m definitely at the top of the list.”

  Carol handed Max a glass of wine. “Sit. What did you find out? Anything?”

  “Not much. Seems like they all claim amnesia. We did have a weird incident on our way out there, though.” She told them about the possible shooting as she scratched Rosie’s back. That got the attention of even Sharon’s granddaughter Chelsea, who had been ensconced in a papasan chair in the corner, madly texting vital messages to her friends.

  Chelsea flipped her curtain of brown hair back. “What? Someone took shots at you?”

  “We aren’t sure. The sheriff thought it was a possibility. None of us should head anywhere alone.”

  Carol said, “Everyone except you and Lil is leaving tomorrow morning.”

  “And me,” Donnie said glumly.

  “Have you called Janet yet?” Max asked him, her tone sharper than she intended.

  He shook his head. “My phone was dead when the sheriff returned it. It’s on the charger.”

  “You can use mine.” Max held it out to him. “As you know, Janet has tended to rub a lot of us the wrong way, but you’ve given her good reason to be that way. Call her and apologize.”

  Donnie took the phone and looked ready to protest but caught Max’s glare. “Okay,” he said and went around the corner of the house.

  Sharon looked at Max in shock. “Wow. Not even an argument. Maybe he’s growing up.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up.”

  Carol took a seat beside Max. “Pete Murphy couldn’t tell you anything?”

  “Not really. Couldn’t or wouldn’t--not sure which. Either all three were wasted or they agreed not to talk.” Max took a sip of her wine. “It’s a little hard to swallow, though, that none of them have any idea what happened. There’s something a little off about Pete, too. What happened to Bill Murphy, anyway? Is he still around?”

  Sharon said, “He committed suicide shortly before Dad died.”

  “Really? I never heard that. Did he suffer from depression or something?”

  “Not that I’d ever heard. I’d lost touch after he retired, and of course I wasn’t around here either.”

  “I’m sure he got a good retirement package,” Lil said. “I remember Dad talking about that.”

  Max held up a finger as she remembered something. “Pete did say that his dad lost everything on a bad investment. He had to drop out of college because of it.”

  “I’m sure it was either that or get a job to pay his own way. He doesn’t have much ambition,” Sharon said.

  “But he did go to work then. At least that’s what he said. What does he do now?” Max asked.

  Bob said, “He works over in Prairie City but I don’t know what he does.”

  Donnie returned and handed Max her phone. “That wasn’t pleasant. She’s coming over tomorrow since I can’t leave here.”

  The sisters exchanged chagrinned looks, but Max accepted that it was her own fault for insisting he call his wife. He sat down in the chair he had vacated and took a drink from the glass on the table. It appeared to be iced tea—not his usual beer or whiskey. And it explained why he was being reasonable and more mature than usual.

  “Donnie, have you thought any more about how you got back to town Friday night? You surely didn’t walk, did you?”

  “I don’t think I could have.”

  “We talked to Pete Murphy this afternoon and he claims not to know. Said you were asleep outside when he went to bed. The next morning you were gone. Bob talked to J.P. at the picnic and he says you were both asleep when he left.” Max waited for Donnie to fill in some blanks.

  “You sound like you don’t believe Pete,” Donnie said.

  “I don’t know. What do you think?”

  Donnie shrugged. “I haven’t seen him much in years. He always seems a little mad at me.” He gave a feeble grin. “But then so do you girls.”

  “With good reason,” Lil said. But she smiled as she said it.

  Annie’s daughter Paige ran up and patted Carol on the shoulder. “Grandma! Can we each have an ice cream bar?”

  Carol looked at her watch. “Omigosh! You need to have some supper first and then you can have ice cream bars.” She got up. “I’ll get some leftovers out. Ernie and Kim picked up some broasted chicken when they came out, and we’ve got plenty of other stuff. We can talk more about this after we eat.”

  Max got up too. “There’s something really crazy going on here. We need to see if we can figure out these attacks on our family, for one thing. And if there’s any connection to Dutch’s murder. But food, first.”

  They all trooped inside to help, even Donnie.

  The next hour was happy bedlam. They put their worries aside and jostled one another to get the kids fed or the last corn muffin or a second scoop of potato salad. Insults and jokes flew, wet rags mopped up spills, and dishes clattered. Afterwards, cleanup took another half hour while the younger generation packed up their kids and headed to their night’s quarters. Goodbyes and hugs were shared with those who were leaving the next morning, along with instructions to forward any new developments and, above all, to stay safe.

  Finally, the four sisters, Bob, Harold, and Donnie gathered back on the patio. Rosie moved from one to another, accepted affection until the giver tired of it and then moved on to the next sucker.

  Harold spoke first. “Max is right in what she said earlier. We need to talk about the threats to the family and insist on knowing what the sheriff has found out. He should know by now who came up with that float in the parade. Then there was the incident at the plant, and the shots fired at Max and Lil.”

  “We don’t know for sure that it was shots,” Lil said.

  “It probably was,” said Max.

  “What did the sheriff say?”

  “That he was more inclined to consider shots because of the other things that had happened,” Max said.

  It was quiet for a few moments. A full moon rose and only a few clouds remained. Lil pointed out the lightning bugs rising from the nearby bean field like a movie special effect. It was hard to grasp any kind of threat in such a bucolic setting. That is, until Max cursed and slapped a mosquito feasting on her arm. Her bracelets jangled and Rosie, who had collapsed at her feet, jumped up to protect her. Carol passed Max a box of wipes that promised to be more effective.

  Max used a wipe to smear her arms and ankles. “You’re right, Harold. The float would seem to be the place to start. The people had masks on, but surely that deputy got the license number off the truck.”

  Carol shook her head. “He was pretty preoccupied with getting the whole thing out of the parade. He might not have had time.”

  “Well, we need to check. I’ll
talk to the sheriff first thing tomorrow and also see if he knows any more about who might have locked us in the plant,” Max said.

  “Remember that the murder and the attacks on us may not be connected,” Bob pointed out.

  More quiet and firefly watching. Max snapped her fingers. “I just thought of something that bothered me about Pete Murphy. He told us he had just gotten up when we arrived—”

  “In the middle of the afternoon?” Sharon interrupted.

  “Right. But when we left and I dropped my water bottle—it rolled under his car—there were puddles under there. The ground was soaked and muddy—he must have parked the car there after the rainstorm. His hair was wet, too.”

  “Are you saying that he was the one who shot at us?” Lil asked.

  “Not necessarily. I don’t think he could have gotten back there that fast. The point is, he was lying when he said he had just gotten up. Why, I don’t know. So maybe he was lying about Friday night as well.”

  Bob leaned forward and clasped his hands. “But we had already eliminated him as a suspect, because we didn’t know of a motive. Did anyone see his or Bill Murphy’s name in the manuscript?”

  Sharon sat up. “What manuscript?”

  “Oops,” Bob said. He turned to Sharon, Harold, and Donnie. “Let’s just say that we were able to get a look at Dutch’s manuscript and search for any names who might be threatened by Dutch publishing that book.”

  “How—?” Harold began, but Bob held up his hand. “I’m not at liberty to go into detail.”

  Right, Max thought, because then he would be the next murder victim.

  Donnie had sat quietly through this discussion. Now he looked at Max, Lil, and Carol. “What did you do?” His voice carried a touch of admiration along with accusation.

  Max waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. It sounded like that manuscript might very well be behind his murder. Necessity is the mother of invention, or whatever.”

  “But, how—?”

  Lil put her hand up. “Don’t ask. Seriously, it’s better that you don’t know.”

  Donnie sat back and took a long drink of his iced tea, but continued to look at his sisters with something akin to disapproval. Ironic, Max thought, how quickly roles can be reversed. For once Donnie was not the one with questionable actions as far as the theft of the manuscript was concerned, but only because he had been sitting in jail at the time.