“Your family cost me my dad and my inheritance.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Pete. Your dad retired before the company was ever sold. He got a good retirement package.”
He started yelling. “No, he didn’t. He didn’t get anything! I’m not arguing. I told you what I want. Go, before you run out of time!”
Max caught Chelsea’s eye. She appeared amazingly calm. “I’ll be okay,” she said.
“All right. Just stay cool, Pete. I’ll see what I can do.” Max turned and worked her way back to the door as quickly as she could. Her sore shin made her hobble a little. Outside, the bright sun almost blinded her. She hurried back toward the house where she could see Lil, Carol and another woman on the patio. As she got closer, she recognized Donnie’s wife, Janet. As if they needed another complication.
Max waited until she got within speaking distance since she was a little out of breath. “He’s in the machine shed,” she said. “Pete Murphy’s got him.” She nodded to Janet.
Janet was a pretty woman, late fifties, with heavy brown hair pulled back in a loose knot and dark-rimmed glasses. However, her looks were marred by the haughty expression she usually wore. She gaped at Max. “What are you talking about?”
“Janet just got here, and we haven’t had a chance to tell her what’s going on,” Carol said. “Janet, Donnie disappeared a little bit ago when Bob sent him in to refill the water jugs. We were afraid he had taken off and were searching for him.”
Bob hurried back from the tool shed. “Have you seen Pete Murphy? His car’s out behind the machine shed.”
“I was just telling them. Pete has Donnie in the shed and he has a gun. He wants money,” Max hurried to explain.
Lil looked around. “What about Chelsea?”
“He has her, too.” Max’s words tumbled over each other. “We split up and she got to them first. It was stupid—I never should have let her out of my sight, but I thought we were only looking for Donnie. I never even considered someone else grabbing him.” She was as close to breaking down as her sisters had ever seen her.
Lil put her hand on Max’s arm. “We all thought that.”
Janet’s face softened. “Pete has a gun on Donnie? And Chelsea?” Her eyes filled with tears. Would wonders never cease?
Lil moved to put her arm around Janet. “We’ll get him out of there. Bob, are you calling the sheriff?”
Bob who had his phone to his ear, nodded.
Carol started to ask, “What is this about money?” but her phone interrupted her. “Yes, Ted? Thanks for calling, but I’ll have to call you back—what?” She covered her other ear and pushed her walker away from the group.
Max told the rest about Pete’s demands. “He said an hour.” She looked at her watch. “Forty-five minutes now.”
“He surely won’t harm them when it comes down to it, will he?” Lil said.
Max shrugged. “I wouldn’t count on it. He looks crazy. I think he’s on something.”
“Oh!” Janet choked out a sob and covered her mouth.
Bob had hung up his phone. “The sheriff is on his way. We need to negotiate more time. We can’t get that much cash in that time. It’ll take longer than that to get to town and back. Will he let me talk to him?”
Max said, “I’d better do it. He would see you as more of a threat than an old lady.”
Carol came back to the group. “That was Ted Larsen. He found the records of the meeting about the sale and found out why Bill Murphy was there.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll make this as short as I can. Bill Murphy had embezzled a lot of money from the company. Dad insisted on his resignation, of course. He didn’t get a retirement package but promised he would get another job and pay Dad back if Dad would keep it quiet. They were friends, you know, and Dad agreed. But Bill never paid a dime. He was called in to the meetings to see if he would ever pay anything, and he said that he couldn’t. That’s why Dad felt he had to accept the higher offer. The embezzlement had him strapped, and he couldn’t bring himself to report Bill.”
Max said, “So Pete’s idea that he’s owed money is nuts. I don’t know if that will matter to him. He doesn’t seem very lucid. But I’ll go try to talk him out of this craziness. Have you got a flashlight?”
Bob said, “Yes—right on the porch. Be right back.” When he returned, he handed Max a large flashlight. “Be careful.”
As Max hurried back to the shed, she heard a siren in the distance. It occurred to her then that Pete’s alibi for Dutch’s murder depended on two sleeping people. She was sure now that he had brought Donnie to town, dumped him in Dutch’s car, and used the antenna to commit the murder. He was jealous of what he thought Donnie had and angry at how he thought he had been cheated. Those feelings had apparently molded his whole life. A tragedy.
She ducked in the door and, using the flashlight, moved as quickly as she could toward the back.
“Pete? It’s Max. I need to talk to you and I’m by myself.”
She heard mumbling but no clear answer, so she kept going.
Pete still held Donnie around the neck with his left arm, gun in his other hand. Chelsea sat on the ground, her knees up and her face buried in her arms.
“Stop right there,” Pete said.
She stopped.
“How about the money?” Pete asked.
“We need more time. An hour isn’t even long enough to get to town, get the money, and get back here.” Max took a deep breath. “There’s something else you should know, Pete—something we just found out. Your dad stole a lot of money from the company. That’s why he didn’t get a retirement package.”
“You lie.”
“No, the lawyer found documents, including a letter from your dad. Please let Donnie and Chelsea go, and we can work this out.” She didn’t know if there was a letter, but a white lie didn’t matter at this point.
Chelsea raised her head and watched to see Pete’s reaction.
“No, no, no—it’s too late.” He swung his head wildly, the gun waving precariously close to Donnie’s head.
“How about just Chelsea? She has nothing to do with this.”
He sighed, and then swung the gun toward the girl. “All right, get out of here.”
Chelsea jumped to her feet and bolted around the other side of the shed. The sound of the siren reached inside the shed, and Pete swung the gun back toward her.
“You double-crossed me!”
Donnie moved so quickly that Max wasn’t completely sure what happened. His right arm came up, knocking Pete’s arm up as well, and the gun went flying. Donnie clung to the arm. Pete still had his left arm around Donnie’s neck and Donnie fought to pull it away with his own left.
“Run, Max,” Donnie yelled.
But she was so surprised that the moment passed, and when she saw Pete start to regain control over Donnie, she lunged at Pete’s left arm and held on for all she was worth. He was obviously stronger than either Max or Donnie alone but not both of them together. He thrashed around, but they clung like crabs. Max knew she was losing her grip when she heard, “Hands up, Murphy!”
Sheriff Burns stood in a shooter’s stance at the corner. Max and Donnie let go at the same time, causing Pete to fall back against the wall, hitting the back of his head. Max scrambled on hands and knees toward the sheriff, adrenalin overcoming the stabbing pain in her knees. Donnie dove for the gun and rolled out of the way.
It was over. The sheriff jerked Pete to his feet and cuffed his hands. Pete appeared dazed and gave no resistance. Max rolled over on her side and tried to catch her breath.
“Let me help you up.” She looked up to see Donnie standing over her, hands outstretched. He too gasped for breath.
Chelsea had followed the sheriff and had been standing behind him. Now she rushed forward to help Max as well. She and Donnie got Max up, and Chelsea insisted that Max put one arm over her shoulders. Max hobbled along with aching knees and a sore shin, but they made it out of the building.
E
veryone gathered around. Carol held Rosie back until Max could get seated on the patio. Janet hugged her husband and sobbed—something else the rest of the family had not seen since their wedding. The sheriff ushered Pete to his cruiser and told them he would be back later.
During the next hour, Max, Donnie and Chelsea shared the events in the shed in bits and pieces, trying to compose a coherent account. By the time the sheriff returned, Bob had picked up carryout from the Mexican restaurant in town, and Max was on her second glass of wine.
“The first order of business is to get that thing off your ankle,” Sheriff Burns told Donnie. Once that was completed, he took the offered chair and held up his hands to fend off the barrage of questions.
“One at a time. First let me fill you in on what I’ve learned from Pete.” He shifted in his chair and took a drink of iced tea provided by Carol. “He was apparently responsible for most of what’s gone on. He admitted to bringing Donnie into town late Friday night—or actually, early Saturday morning—putting him in Dutch’s car, and murdering Dutch, totally as a frame-up job. He, J.P Prentiss, and another friend concocted the float and drove it in the parade. They were not all asleep at the trailer like they said. And Pete’s the one who locked your family in the plant. Donnie had mentioned the tour the night before.”
Lil shook her head. “Hard to believe anyone would go to all of that work for a grudge.”
“Plenty of people do, and he’s not of sound mind,” Max said. “He was like a crazy man when he was holding Donnie and threatening us.”
The sheriff nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if his lawyer uses that as a defense.”
Carol related what they had just found out about the embezzlement. “Pete has apparently been consumed all of these years with how he thought our family had ruined his life.”
“Right,” Burns said, “so the book Dutch was writing had nothing to do with it. We did find the manuscript, by the way, in his apartment and there is nothing derogatory about your family in it.”
“That’s a relief,” Max said, ignoring Bob’s amused expression. “What about the shots that hit my car yesterday?”
“That was Pete too. He had a shortcut back to his trailer. J.P. had called him and told him you were headed his way.” He stood. “I guess that covers it and I need to get going. Any other questions?”
“I don’t think so,” Bob said. “Thank you, Sheriff.”
After he left, Carol got up to refill iced tea glasses. “I’m so glad it’s over. I just feel like this whole weekend was a disaster.”
Max shook her head. “Stop beating yourself up. No way you and Annie could know any of this would happen. Besides, we might have all learned some lessons. This young lady—,” she put her hand on Chelsea’s shoulder, “was incredibly brave today. I was so proud of her.”
Chelsea beamed. Max had a feeling no one had been proud of her lately, and for good reason. “Thank you. I should have done something more…”
“No, you shouldn’t have. The guy was crazy. If you had done something, Donnie would probably be dead and maybe you too.”
Donnie cleared his throat and leaned forward, elbows on knees and hands clasped. “I don’t know what to say, exactly. I know I’ve been a spoiled brat and I’m going to try to do better.” He nodded toward his wife. “Janet’s going to help, and the first thing I’m going to do when we get home is join a twelve-step program. But thank you. I haven’t deserved sisters like you.”
Max said, “You’ve always said that. Only that you didn’t deserve such bad sisters.”
That brought a laugh and lightened the mood.
“Well, you’re right. But we’re going to head home.” Donnie reverted to his smart-aleck persona. “Tell Annie the next time she wants to organize a reunion, maybe we should do it at a resort far away from here.”
“Maybe you should organize the next one and you can do it wherever you want,” Carol said, but gave him a hug.
Janet thanked them, too—another first—and Donnie offered to drop Chelsea off at Annie’s.
Soon, just Bob and Carol, Max, and Lil were left on the patio.
Max shifted in her chair. “One question the sheriff didn’t answer--and I’m not going to ask him--is who was in Dutch’s apartment when Tess and I took the manuscript back. No reason for it to be Pete. Someone who was worried about that book.”
“We’ll probably never know,” Lil said.
Carol’s phone rang. Her side of the conversation was brief--mostly okays, yeses, and a thank you. As she put the phone away, she looked at the others in disbelief.
“That was Her Honor the Mayor. Max, you and Chelsea must have wowed her. She’s talked to most of the council members, and they’re very interested in the community center idea. They’re going to check out the legalities and they’ll be in touch.”
Max was shocked. “She was about as enthusiastic as a fish about to be caught. Chelsea will be astounded. We both thought it was a dead end.”
“So what’s your plans?” Carol asked Max and Lil.
“I thought maybe we’d stay several more days so we could have a nice long visit,” Max said. She laughed at Carol’s slightly panicked expression. “Just kidding. If my knees are okay, we’ll take off in the morning. You know what they say about fish and company.”
Foliage and Fatality
by Karen Musser Nortman
Copyright © 2018 by Karen Musser Nortman. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means (including photocopying, recording or information storage and retrieval) without permission in writing from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
Chapter One
Lil
Max’s red Studebaker Starlight coupe hugged the curve as the narrow road turned and dropped down a steep hill. In the passenger seat, her sister Lil Garrett sucked in her breath and gripped the road atlas spread open on her lap.
Max pointed at the dash. “I don’t know why you bother with that atlas. Why don’t you just use the GPS?”
Lil shut her eyes for a second. “I just like atlases. And I like the big picture.”
Max snorted. “What a waste of time.”
“Like I’m really busy.”
“You’re missing the scenery.”
The Pennsylvania highway wound through overhanging trees draped with crimson and gold leaves. Occasionally an oak that hadn’t turned yet or a bare ash broke up the kaleidoscope of color, just enough to emphasize the vibrant hues.
“No, I’m not. It’s beautiful. I’m so glad we decided to take this trip in the fall. I never realized Pennsylvania was so wooded.”
“Didn’t you pay attention in school? The name means ‘Penn’s Woods.’”
“School was sixty years ago. Don’t be so crabby.”
“Then don’t be so dense.”
Rosie, Max’s large Irish setter, sat in the back seat with her head resting on the front seat between the two sisters. She rolled her eyes back and forth as she followed the conversation, or at least the sounds of their voices.
Neither sister spoke again until they arrived at a crossroads with a large fuel plaza and truck stop. Max pulled up to a pump and turned off the car.
“This will be our last stop until we get to Terry’s.”
Lil opened her door. “Fine.” She stalked into the convenience store. After using the restroom, refreshing her makeup and fluffing her latest haircut, she returned to the store and browsed a snack counter. She bagged two pork egg rolls off a warming rack and was looking for the fountain drinks when Max came up behind her.
“Are you about ready? We’ll never get there at this rate.”
Lil seethed but held back her anger. “Be right there. Do you want anything?”
“I’ll be careful, I promise.”
“Even if you don’t spill, the whole car will smell like garlic and soy sauce.”
Lil didn’t reply—she couldn’t and remain civil. She took her purchases to the cash register. Every trip she and Max took, and that was at least three or four times a year, they reached this point of dissension before they reached their destination.
One would think that two women in their seventies would be able to maintain a cordial atmosphere, but it seemed the sibling rivalry was just too strong. She paid for her snacks and straightened her brown and gold cardigan, decorated with fall leaves in duplicate stitch, as she followed her sister back to the car in silence.
Max had let Rosie out, walked her along the edge of the parking lot, and given her a little water. The dog now awaited their return with her head hanging out the window.
Determined to improve the atmosphere, Lil cheerfully said as they pulled out of the truck stop, “It looks like we have about sixty miles left.”
“Fifty-seven, actually.”
“Okay.”
Lil nibbled at her egg rolls, careful not to get any drips on the pristine interior of the classic car or her own carefully chosen outfit. She wiped her fingers and tucked the used napkin and wrappings into a side pocket of her tote where she kept a Ziploc bag just for such trash.
She turned and watched out the window. They were headed for Burnsville, where her son Terry had moved eight months earlier with his wife Melody and children. Terry had taken a job as a loan officer at a local bank, and this was Lil’s first visit to their new home.
Max and Lil, in an earlier, more congenial, conversation, decided that the fall would be a perfect time to visit Pennsylvania. Based on the scenery, they certainly had made a good decision. If they didn’t kill each other before they got to Terry’s.
Terry and Melody Garrett lived in a white, traditional, two-story colonial with green shutters on a wide street lined with oaks and maples. Neat shrubs interspersed with cushion mums in gold, purple, and rust surrounded the house.
The Mystery Sisters series Box Set Page 11