The Mystery Sisters series Box Set

by Karen Musser Nortman

  The shadow of a man trudged several feet ahead of a short woman. Max pointed. “Those two have been married a long time.”

  “The Hunchback of Notre Dame.” Lil smirked at the shadow of a man ambling by who appeared to have a prominent hump on his back.

  “Hmmm,” Dean said. “A little high for a backpack and the wrong shape.” They watched the figure round the corner and continue to the open east side of the tent.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When the man walked into the tent carrying a sack of food, his ever-present sweater tied across his shoulders (although today it was gray), the group looked at each other with understanding and some dread.

  “James,” Bess whispered. “Hunchback, indeed.”

  He spotted them and headed their way. He set his sack on the table and climbed over the bench. “Do you mind if I join you?”

  Max wondered what he would say if they answered ‘yes, we do mind.’

  He held up one hand and continued. “I promise, no sales pitches.”

  Dean grinned. “That’s okay then. Have a seat.”

  “I think I saw you at Helen’s visitation?” Bess said.

  “Yes. Grim business.” He shook his head as he pulled a bologna on a stick out of the sack. He removed the wrappings and carefully applied ketchup. “I suppose you’ve heard about Erik’s relationship to Peter?”

  “I didn’t realize it was common knowledge,” Dean said.

  Bess had to hide a smirk and Max winked at her.

  “Well, I’m not sure it is. But it involves clients of mine, although I can’t say who. It doesn’t surprise me a whole lot, I guess. Peter was pretty wild when he first came to town and Helen was quite naive.” James took a big bite of the bologna.

  “I didn’t know you had been here that long, James,” Bess said.

  “Oh, I haven’t. But these things come up, as I say, in dealings with clients.”

  “You mean like gossip that clients share?”

  “Oh, heavens, no. Not gossip. I just mean that I’ve become privy to some information in the course of my work. Let’s hear about you ladies.” He looked pointedly at Max and Lil. “You travel around together a lot?”

  “A couple of times a year,” Max said. It’s really none of your business.

  “Mostly in the Midwest?”

  “Not necessarily,” Lil said. “We often visit family around the country.”

  “I see. Dean, how was the crowd Saturday in the village?”

  “Pretty typical for Tulip Fest. Maybe down a little.”

  James nodded. “Yes, yes. To be expected, I guess. Do the police have any leads?”

  “We’re not privy to that,” Dean said.

  James swallowed another bite of his bologna. “Sure. I just thought since you had been questioned…”

  Dean frowned and gave his neighbor a piercing look, which James didn’t catch because he was busy rolling up his sandwich wrappings and wiping his mouth. He looked up at them, smiling, and got up. “Nice seeing you. Have a good evening.” And he was gone.

  “I almost get whiplash, trying to keep up with his subject changes,” Max said.

  “But how did he know we had been questioned? I mean he could surmise that, but still…” Dean watched James leave the tent.

  “Or he was walking by and saw Wilkin’s car,” Bess said.

  Dean shrugged. “I suppose. But it’s an unmarked car.”

  “I think he’s just odd,” Lil said. “You know, it was the night the detective came—Saturday—that I took Rosie for her walk and ran into him. He warned me about staying safe, offered to walk me home, and then turned off before we got there. Maybe he could have seen the car at that point and recognized it?”

  Max laughed. “On Sunday, when he chased his dog into your back yard, he offered to take me out to supper and then immediately did a disappearing act.”

  “Well, that’s understandable—,” Lil started to say until Max slugged her arm.

  Bess rolled up her food wrappings. “Well, speaking of home, I’m ready to head there. Anyone else?”

  They all agreed it had been a long day and followed Bess out.

  On the way to the car, Lil checked to see that no one was nearby and then asked, “What do you think about James as the murderer?”

  Bess almost stopped. “What? Why?”

  “I don’t know him well enough to figure out a motive. But he certainly seems to have had opportunity. He showed up at the village not long after Dean discovered Peter—Max, remember when you were sitting outside the quilt display?—and then James told me that he saw us at the Rotterdam Room that night.”

  Dean let the wheelchair down over a curb and gave a little chuckle. “I don’t mean to be a skeptic but there were a lot of people at the village that morning and quite a few at the canal and in the Rotterdam room that night. James probably wasn’t the only one who was in both places. Heck, we were.”

  “I know.”

  They reached the car and Dean unlocked it. “Besides, I know him pretty well and I can’t imagine a motive.”

  Lil grimaced. “I know,” she said again.

  Back at the house, they rehashed everything they knew about Erik, Harry, and James. It just went in circles. Max pulled out the tablet that she had made notes on earlier.

  “Is there any way to find out if James or Erik were in the race? We know—or at least think—that Harry was at work,” Lil said. “We also know that Peter started the race but was dead by the time it ended.”

  Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call the race chairman and find out. They always print the individual times in the paper the next week so it’s no secret.” He went in the house to make his call.

  “I’m sure there are other possibilities,” Max said. She gazed out across the patio and lawn as another beautiful evening was coming to an end. Fireflies began their slow rise from the grass in a seeming never ending cycle. “Must be 8:45. The lightning bugs are out.” They sat silently watching the light show until Dean returned.

  “Erik was registered in the race and finished fairly early. He does a lot of running. James wasn’t entered.”

  “You didn’t rule out the possibility of Wanita Eldridge having a romantic interest in Peter,” Lil said. “Maybe she killed both Peter and Helen in a fit of jealousy.”

  Dean threw back his head and laughed. “Now you’re reaching. First of all, Wanita doesn’t have fits of anything. Second, she was running the volunteer office during most of the time frame for Peter’s death. Third, I can’t imagine that she has the strength to get his body into a bag and hoisted on the hook.”

  “Spoilsport,” Lil said.

  “By possibilities, I meant a stranger or random act—who knows?” Max said.

  Bess said, “I read somewhere that most murders are committed by someone the victim knows.”

  “Most,” Max agreed. “But there are exceptions.” She yawned. “I’ve been testing my ankle today. I think I’ll be able to drive by Thursday, so we should probably be thinking about heading home by then.”

  “Okay,” Lil said. “And we could share driving.”

  To Lil’s great surprise, Max said, “Maybe.”

  The next morning, Max and Lil took advantage of Bess and Dean’s laundry room to replenish their supply of clean clothes. Max practiced using the walker and Lil’s cane to get around.

  Shortly before noon, they headed downtown in Bess’ car and parked in a large lot next to an old depot. When the railroad tracks through the center of town near the main business district were removed, Bess explained that the old station sat empty for years until it was repurposed as a restaurant. Its proximity to the courthouse square made it popular with the county employees, as well as the several legal firms located nearby.

  Bess greeted people as they made their way toward empty tables along one wall. Max and Lil gave each other knowing looks when Bess said to a perky-looking brunette, probably in her fifties, “Lois! It sounds like Toni is having an incred
ible season!” She turned to Max and Lil behind her. “Lois’s granddaughter is a sprinter on the girls’ track team, and I think she’s placed in every meet—is that right?” She turned back to Lois.

  Lois beamed. “She sure has. She set a new school record in the 200 last week.”

  “That’s wonderful. But her mother was a runner too, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes, but Tami was more of a distance runner. Their distance medley qualified for state twice.”

  Bess said, “Lois, this is Maxine Berra and Lil Garrett—two of my cousins. They’ve been here over the weekend for the Tulip Fest. Ladies, this is Lois Bender.”

  Lois reached out a hand to each. “Nice to meet you. Have you enjoyed the Fest—wait! Are you the women who were with Dean when he found—?” She didn’t finish but looked frantically from them to Bess.

  “Yes, they were,” Bess said. She didn’t elaborate. “Should we sit here?” She indicated a table across from Lois to Max and Lil.

  “That’s fine with me,” Lil said.

  “Why don’t you join me?” Lois said. She waved her hand at the three empty chairs at her table. “I just ordered.”

  “You aren’t meeting anyone?” Bess asked.

  Lois leaned over and pulled one the chairs out. “No. Please sit. I usually lunch with the legal aide, Georgia, but she’s on vacation this week. I’d love the company.”

  “Thank you,” Bess said. She helped Max to sit and leaned the walker over by the wall.

  Lois looked curious but may have assumed that Max’s difficulty walking was related to something permanent because she didn’t ask.

  Bess told her anyway. “Max had a little mishap Saturday during a dance lesson.”

  Lois said, “Wooden shoes dancing?”

  Max grimaced, and shrugged.

  “Did you go to the doctor?”

  Bess said, “Yes, we took her to the clinic. Dr. Bakke said it should be better in a few days.”

  Lois sat back in her chair, almost like she couldn’t catch her breath. “That must have been before his mother—”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Just awful. It will take awhile for the community to recover from these losses.” Lois shook her head.

  “Let’s talk about something else,” Bess said. “Tell us about Toni. I saw in the paper that her relay team qualified for the Drake Relays this year?”

  Lois nodded. “Yes, they got to run on ‘the Big Blue Track.’ I think they ended up seventh or eighth, but they were so excited. And the weather was good, which isn’t always true in April, so it was a fun weekend. I know about your grandchildren, Bess; what about you ladies? Do you have any?”

  “I have two,” Lil answered. “They live in Pennsylvania so I don’t get to see them often, but they taught me how to Skype, so we keep in touch that way. They are just seven and nine, so they have all kinds of weird perceptions to report.” She went on to relate a couple of anecdotes about their visit the previous fall, leaving out the parts about the dead woman.

  Their food arrived and Lois said, as she tackled her salad, “One other thing about Peter’s death. Yesterday, Harry Eldridge came in and wanted to know who was the beneficiary of Peter’s will! Can you imagine that he even thought we would tell him? His mother would ground him if she knew about that.”

  Bess smiled. “I think he’s almost forty, Lois.”

  “And you think Wanita couldn’t ground him?”

  Now Bess laughed out loud. “You’re probably right. Harry has been asking everyone about Peter’s tulip hybridization. Had you seen Peter lately? Someone said he hadn’t been feeling well.” She avoided Max and Lil’s eyes.

  “Really? I hadn’t heard that. As a matter of fact, he called, Friday I think it was, for an appointment this week.”

  Bess nodded. “I suppose you heard that he was Erik Bakke’s biological father. Erik told us at Helen’s visitation that Peter was going to change his will in Erik’s favor, but we’ll never know now.”

  “You’re right,” Lois said. “So sad all around.” She looked at her watch. “Ooops. I’d better get back to work. I’m so glad you joined me. Max and Lil, it was great meeting you. Hope you have safe travels. And stay away from wooden shoes.” She smiled, pushed back from the table, and picked up her purse. Bess, Max, and Lil followed soon after.

  On the way home, Max said to Bess, “That was pretty sneaky back there. You may want to travel with us and join our detective agency.”

  Bess laughed. “I might consider it but I don’t think I want to ride far in that little back seat with Rosie. I mean, she’s very sweet, but—”

  “I know,” Max said. “She smells.”

  “So we’re assuming that Peter did not change his will?” Lil asked.

  “Not if he hasn’t met with the attorney yet,” Bess said. “He had no reason to be in a rush. He thought he had plenty of time.” Her voice broke up.

  Max gazed out the window. “A reminder that none of us really knows whether we have plenty of time, do we?”

  The three were silent the rest of the drive home. When they arrived there, Lil said she would take Rosie out.

  “That would be great. Thank you,” Max said. “I think I’m going to rest upstairs for a bit if no one cares.”

  “By all means,” Lil said, but she studied her sister carefully. It wasn’t like Max to give in to fatigue or discomfort or whatever it was.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lil found herself and the dog going down James Meijer’s street. For some reason, she felt fairly confident that early afternoon wasn’t a time she would be likely to run into him, and she was getting tired of the same route that avoided his street. She was correct; the street was quiet and she enjoyed looking at the variety of homes in the neighborhood.

  As they walked, her mind was occupied with this strange murder case. Was the murderer one of the three men they had been focused on or someone connected to one of them? Or was it someone completely unrelated?

  She reconsidered the time frame. Harry Eldridge claimed to have seen Peter around 6:30 a.m., and Wilkins said Peter had started the race. But the murderer had to still be in the area around 8:15 when Ben Barnes got lured away from his post. That’s when the killer had placed the bag on the hoist. What was he doing all that time? Or, on the other hand, what was Peter doing all of that time? And the biggest question of all, why put Peter’s body in a bag?

  She thought again about the photos she had taken. She hadn’t looked at them since Detective Wilkins gave her back her memory card. She pulled on the leash just as Rosie spotted a rabbit checking out a tulip bed. “Not today, girl. Time to head home.” Then, self-consciously she looked around expecting James to pop again and ask her why she was talking to the dog. But the street was still quiet.

  Back at the house, she got out her laptop and retrieved the plastic bag with the memory card from her purse. The house was quiet. Dean was working at the Mill and she didn’t see Bess anywhere around. Perhaps she had decided to lie down too.

  Lil set up the lap top on the kitchen table and inserted the card. She knew she couldn’t do any better enlarging the images than Wilkins’s staff had, but maybe with more time to look and no distractions, something might strike her. She uploaded the photos and began to go through them one by one. She was concentrating so hard that she didn’t hear Max come up behind her.

  “What are you looking for?”

  Lil sat up and stretched her neck a little. “I hadn’t looked at these since I got the memory card back from Detective Wilkins. I just thought something might click.”

  Max pulled out the chair next to her sister and sat, shoving her walker aside.

  “The more I think about the timing, the more I think the murderer must be in one of these pictures. I suppose he may have gotten away before we got to the deck but it just doesn’t seem likely.”

  They both peered at each photo. Lil cropped different sections to increase the size. A few people who were farther away could be seen a little more full
y but only the tops of heads were visible for most.

  “Max! Check that out.” Lil moved her glass of iced tea so she could lean closer to the screen. She pointed at a strange shape—the top of a head that appeared to be resting on a pile of cloth.

  “Someone has a big scarf around their neck.”

  “It was kind of warm that day for a scarf, dontcha think?” Lil smiled. “Soooo…maybe it’s a sweater, just sort of tied casually around the shoulders. You know what I mean?” She looked at her sister and winked.

  “James Meijer,” Max said and grinned back.

  Bess walked into the kitchen. “What about James?”

  Lil pointed at the screen. “These are the photos I took the day of Peter’s murder when Dean was showing us the mill. We think this is James with that silly sweater around his shoulders.”

  Bess raised her eyebrows. “You mean he was hanging around the mill about the time we think the murderer might have been there?”

  “Exactly,” Lil said. “We knew he was there about an hour later when Max and I were touring the village.”

  “He came up to me while I was waiting for Lil outside the quilt display,” Max said. “He said something about checking with the various guides to see if they needed anything. On behalf of the Heritage Committee, he said.”

  Bess sat down at the table and picked up her phone. “James doesn’t have anything to do with the Heritage Committee. He’s always said he thought the Tulip Fest was silly. I think I should call Detective Wilkins.”

  Max nodded. “Yes, we need to talk to him.”

  “We never came up with a motive for James, though,” Lil said.

  “Technically, that’s not our job,” Max reminded her.

  Lil got a sly look on her face. “He’s always trying to get a pledge out of Dean. What if he goes around signing up donors and then does away with them before they can change their minds?”

  “What?” Bess looked skeptical. “You’re crazy.”

  “I know. I’m just kidding. It’s a little far-fetched.” Lil chuckled at her own joke.

  “She might have something,” Max said. “If Peter was a big donor, which he probably was, and planned to change his will in favor of Erik, that may have affected his bequest. Suppose he called James to explain his plan?”