Scandal in Tawas

by Madison Johns

  Eleanor insisted I use the wheelchair, but I insisted she retrieve the quad cane instead. Benny and Wallace helped me up and the first step had me wincing in pain. I groaned all the way to the door, with the men at my sides.

  I walked through the door and waved at Andrew, who hurried to my side as I wobbled, catching me before I fell face first on the floor. I was quite positive that I wouldn’t fare well with that kind of fall. I was frustrated that I was in this predicament.

  “Why aren’t you using the wheelchair?” Andrew asked, as he carried me to the sofa.

  “Put me down before you throw out your back.”

  “You’re already sitting down, but how about you use the wheelchair until that ankle is mended. If you’re not careful you’ll break it and you don’t want that.”

  “Listen to him, Agnes,” Eleanor said. “We’re too old to break a bone. It will take forever to heel.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I said, recalling the woman at church who broke an ankle and became too dependent to live alone afterward. “I promise from now on I’ll listen.”

  “I’ll call Dr. Thomas and ask him if he thinks physical therapy might be beneficial,” Andrew suggested.

  “Not right now, you don’t. We’re too busy trying to find Sara Knoxville.”

  “Are you saying she’s missing?” he asked, as he took a seat next to me.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I mean, I know she could be taking her guests for a tour of the area—”

  “But you don’t believe it?”

  “Not when her phone goes straight to voicemail and the mailbox is full.”

  Andrew frowned. “Have you thought that she might be someplace where she doesn’t have a signal?”

  “Where would that happen around here?”

  “In the woods or beach,” Wallace volunteered.

  “He’s right, Agnes,” Eleanor said. “We’ve lost signals in areas like that, too.”

  “You’re right, I suppose, but I can’t stop feeling that someone might have kidnapped her.”

  “Kidnapped her, why exactly?” Andrew asked.

  “Because she wrote that tell-all book?” Benny offered.

  “But since her book is missing a critical page, whoever she was planning to reveal will remain nameless,” Eleanor insisted.

  “Not if the error is fixed,” I countered.

  Andrew reasoned, “At this point, there’s no sense in speculating. Give it some time, I’m certain she’ll return.”

  I kissed Andrew’s cheek. “I hope you’re right, dear.”

  Andrew walked to the refrigerator. “Drinks anyone?”

  “A shot of tequila would be great,” Wallace said.

  “He meant a pop,” I added with a laugh.

  “I know that, but I rather enjoyed the shocked look on your face.”

  Andrew handed out the Coca-Colas, with diets for Eleanor and me.

  I took my time snapping open my can and taking a few sips before I finally said, “Andrew, did you hear about that purse snatcher?”

  “The one you tripped? Sure.”

  “She’s related to Rosa Lee.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “Rosa Lee is trying to help out the poor girl and I thought of a way we might be able to help her, too.”

  Andrew’s brow shot up. “Why would you want to help her out? She just stole someone’s purse.”

  “Oh, I know, but she’s so young and needs some direction, which is why Rosa Lee had her sons pick up the girl. I think the girl is staying with Rosa Lee.”

  “I’m certain Rosa Lee can turn her around.”

  “I know, but the girl is so angry. I might have accidentally slipped and told her my husband is an attorney and could help her out?”

  Andrew spit out his mouthful of pop. “You told her what?” he asked, as he grabbed a towel to mop up the mess.

  “You heard me. You wouldn’t mind, would you, taking a look at her case at the very least.”

  Andrew leaned back on the sofa as he shook his head at me. “What am I going to do with you, Agnes?”

  “Love me?”

  “I already love you, even if you drive me crazy at times.” He took another sip of his pop. “I’ll head over to Rosa Lee’s house tomorrow and speak to the girl. Can you tell me her name?”

  “Piper Wayne.”

  He jotted it down and pulled me into a hug. “You really should stay home and rest.”

  “I know that, but I have to get back to the Butler Mansion. We need to talk to a few of the guests there.”

  “In the wheelchair, right?”

  “Yes, and don’t worry, we’ll help her into the mansion like we did the last time,” Benny said.

  “Do tell?”

  “Wallace carried me over the threshold ... against my wishes.”

  “I’m going to have to keep my eye on you, woman,” Andrew teased.

  “I give you credit,” Benny began. “You must be the most patient man I know, or just met.”

  “Jot down my phone number just in case Agnes and Eleanor get themselves in a fix. Okay?” Andrew said.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, but he only had our best interest in mind.

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING back here so soon?” Millicent asked. “Did you find Sara yet?”

  “Does that mean she hasn’t returned?”

  “I’m afraid not. I was just about to check to see if the rooms have been thoroughly cleaned.”

  “Do you always do that, check up on the cleaning staff?”

  “Of course I do, especially since I have a new housekeeper.”

  “Do you mind if we tag along?”

  “How are you planning to get up the stairs?” Eleanor asked.

  “We installed a small service elevator recently,” Millicent explained. “I was worried about the housekeepers having to carry the linen up there since the laundry room is on the first floor.”

  “I hope that’s all the modifications that have been made.”

  “It’s not unheard of to have an elevator of sorts in an older house,” Millicent said.

  “Or a mechanical chair to take an occupant up the stairs,” Eleanor added.

  “That actually sounds like fun,” Benny said. “We’ll wait down here for you.”

  Millicent rolled my wheelchair into the elevator and I was the only one who could fit. I pushed the number two button and the door slowly closed and the lift clunked to the second floor where the doors opened with a shudder. I quickly rolled myself out before I became trapped inside, or before the lift plummeted back to the first floor unexpectedly.

  “That wasn’t so bad,” Eleanor said.

  “That’s because you weren’t in that elevator.”

  “Well, at least we can take a peek in the rooms to see if anyone left in a hurry.”

  “I’m certain the housekeeper would have tidied up the rooms by now.”

  “They don’t move personal items or even make the bed if clothing is left on it. It’s a standard hotel policy, I presume,” Eleanor insisted.

  “We’re not in a hotel, this is a bed and breakfast, don’t forget.”

  “Oh, my,” Millicent exclaimed, as she backed out of a room. “I think I better call the sheriff.”

  Eleanor hurried over to see what was wrong and I wheeled myself to the entrance of the room. A man was sprawled out next to the bed, lying on his side.

  “Should we move him, do you think?” Eleanor asked, as she quivered.

  I wheeled further into the room with a frown. “Millicent, ask the 911 operator if we should move him.”

  Eleanor walked over to me when I leaned over and touched his hand. “He’s cold. At this point, I think it’s too late to do CPR.”

  Millicent cried out as she spoke with the 911 operator.

  “Do you see that, Eleanor? He has a wound on the back of his head.”

  Eleanor peered at where I pointed out. “Oh, you’re right. It looks like this death is suspicious.”

  The sound of s
irens approached and I took a visual of the room. There was a bathing suit and snorkel mask on the bed.

  “He was getting ready for the beach.” I pointed out the items I spotted.

  Eleanor glanced on the dresser. “Here’s a copy of Sara’s book.”

  I moved a little closer and gasped. “This is Laith Ahmed. I met him last night.”

  Millicent wrung her hands. “I-I believe you’re right. He’s a producer, from what I remember, but he didn’t book a room here. This room is assigned to Sara’s publisher, Julian Seals.”

  “Meaning what?” I mused.

  “He might have stayed over with Julian,” Eleanor suggested.

  “Why, when Julian didn’t even attend the party?”

  Eleanor winked. “Do I really need to explain that?”

  I turned to look at the body. “Well, from the looks of it, he wasn’t murdered last night.”

  “How do you know who Laith is, if he didn’t book a room, Millicent?” Eleanor asked.

  “I met him last night at the party.”

  “Julian wasn’t at the party last night though,” Eleanor said. “He must have been holed up in this room the whole night.”

  “Oh, what are you doing in the middle of the crime scene?” Sheriff Peterson asked, the sound of his voice startling us.

  “Sorry,” I said, as I wheeled into the hallway where Trooper Sales stood.

  Peterson scowled. “She could have evidence all over the wheels of her wheelchair.”

  I ignored the sheriff and said, “I observed that Laith has a wound to the back of his head.”

  “Thanks for your observations, now butt out,” Peterson ordered. “Or go downstairs ... er ... how did you get up here, exactly?”

  “Service elevator.”

  “What’s happening?” Wallace asked, as Benny was filming.

  “You can’t be filming the crime scene,” Bill said, “Shut it down.”

  “I know my rights.”

  “You want me to confiscate the camera?”

  Benny put down the camera. “You win.”

  “Wait for us downstairs,” Peterson bellowed. “You know the routine, Agnes.”

  I was afraid I knew all too well what to expect.

  We congregated downstairs in the parlor and I wasn’t able to enjoy the ambiance of the room. I was more worried than I was before.

  Benny sat on a sofa with his hands between his knees. “You know I never expected for something like this to happen.”

  “What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know, just to follow you around during your daily activities.”

  “You knew we’re investigators.”

  “I really wasn’t sure how serious to take it. I can’t imagine two ladies your ages being involved in a murder case.”

  “Should you try to call Sara again?” Eleanor asked.

  “I don’t see a point to that, really. I wonder why someone would want to kill a producer.”

  “Beats me,” Eleanor said. “I expected the publisher to turn up dead instead. It’s most likely his fault that Sara’s book is missing a page.”

  “You can’t say that for certain,” Wallace said. “Although I must admit it seems like a conspiracy.”

  “I know, but why?” Benny asked.

  “That’s what we plan to find out.”

  Chapter Eleven

  WE WATCHED AS THE MEDICAL examiner arrived with a gurney and several state troopers carried it up the stairs. Two state police forensic techs nodded at us as they walked past on the way to the stairs.

  “At least they’re taking the death seriously,” Eleanor said.

  “I wonder who was the last guest to come downstairs today?”

  “Remember we saw those actors Tom and Damon earlier,” Wallace pointed out. “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt.”

  “You’re here to observe,” Eleanor reminded him.

  “He’s right and we didn’t get a chance to speak to them.”

  “Do you recall where they said they were going?”

  “Unfortunately not.”

  “Millicent, do you have any way to contact Tom and Damon?”

  “I should have their contact information.” She searched through the check-in book and jotted down a number, handing it to me just as the sheriff joined us.

  “Could you tell me the name of the deceased, Millicent?”

  “Certainly, Sheriff. It’s Laith Ahmed.”

  “He’s a producer,” I added. “And apparently, he was a guest of whoever booked that room.”

  “Which is who?”

  “Julian Seals booked the room,” I said.

  “Did you meet Laith or Julian the other night, Agnes?”

  “How did you know I was here last night?”

  “I know you’re acquainted with Sara, Agnes.”

  “I spoke briefly with Laith, but don’t remember seeing Julian at the party.”

  “Oh, no short term memory loss?”

  “There’s no need for a low blow like that, Sheriff,” Benny said, as he stood. “They discovered the man’s body.”

  “And how exactly did that happen?”

  “I was checking to make sure all the rooms were cleaned,” Millicent said. “I-I was the one who found Laith’s body.”

  “What can you tell me about Laith?”

  “Not much to tell, really. He was here when Sara arrived from her book signing.”

  “And apparently there was funny business going on,” I added.

  Peterson shook his head at me. “When was the last time you saw Laith, Millicent?”

  “I must have lost track of him. I assumed he must have left.”

  “Nobody worried about his whereabouts?”

  “Not that I heard mentioned.”

  “Where is Sara Knoxville? I would like to speak to her.”

  “That’s just the thing, Sara hasn’t been seen since last night,” Millicent said.

  “Oh, no. It’s worse than I thought,” I exclaimed. “We’ve been trying to find Sara all day. We tried to call her and her phone goes straight to voicemail and can’t take anymore messages.”

  Peterson itched his head with an ink pen. “So, we have a dead guy upstairs and a missing actress. That must mean the actress murdered the man upstairs.”

  “Don’t forget Laith was found dead in Julian Seals’ room,” Eleanor added.

  “I can’t believe you’d think Sara capable of something like this, Peterson. I was planning to try to file a missing person’s report but I knew you wouldn’t take it seriously, or you’d tell me there was no reason to believe that her absence was suspicious.”

  “You’re right about that, but honestly, ladies, Sara Knoxville and Julian are persons of interest at this point.”

  “Sara was at the party last night,” I said. “So she couldn’t have gone up and killed that man.”

  “She’s too fragile to kill Laith,” Eleanor added.

  “Sara and Julian might be in it together. Maybe Sara was closer to Julian than you think,” Peterson reasoned.

  “I can’t say since I’ve never met Julian. He’s her publisher, by the way. What possible motive would she have to murder Laith?”

  “Who knows with those Hollywood types.”

  “That’s quite an opinion,” I censured the sheriff. “And it would have nothing to do with a motive.”

  “Unless that producer guy put the moves on Sara,” Eleanor said.

  I shot Eleanor a look. “We don’t even know if she personally knew Laith.”

  “He probably came with Roman Douglas,” Benny said. “They’ve worked together on a few movies.”

  “Does anyone know where Roman is?” Peterson asked.

  Millicent frowned. “No, like I told Agnes earlier, I believe Sara is showing Roman and his wife around the area.”

  “So you might want to check out the tourist areas,” Eleanor supplied. “And we’ll let you know if we find them first.”

  Peterson’s brow furrowed. “You do tha
t.”

  Benny began, “Hey, but I thought—”

  “Yes, we plan on letting the sheriff get back to work, providing he’s done with us.”

  “Go ahead, but the movie camera will be staying with me,” Peterson insisted.

  “That’s not going to happen,” Benny said. “I assure you I didn’t film the crime scene. You cops came upstairs before we did. All I caught a glimpse of was the hallway. I can show you if you don’t believe me. I’ll even delete it if you want me to.”

  “He’s right. Only Agnes, Eleanor, and I were upstairs when the body was discovered,” Millicent said.

  “Well, in that case you have my permission to leave, but I expect you to tell me about any developments in this case if you find anything of interest, Agnes.”

  “You’ll be the first to know.”

  I sighed when we were back in the SUV. “I’m sorry for interrupting you, Benny, but we like to check out the leads presented to us.”

  “Before the sheriff has the chance,” Eleanor said.

  “That way he won’t be wasting his time chasing a lead that goes nowhere. We do that all the time. You’d be surprised how many twists and turns there can be to a case.”

  “I’m willing to learn. I never would have thought that this gig would turn out this way. Doesn’t it upset you when you find a body, ladies?” Benny asked.

  “Of course it does, but it’s part of our job as investigators. We’d rather not be the ones who find a body, actually. It puts us in the sheriff’s crosshairs.”

  “I can see that. How do you manage to get around that?”

  “It depends on his mood and what we have to share. Of course we share the information we find if it’s pertinent to the case.”

  “So it’s official, we’re on an actual case.”

  “Knock it off, Benny,” Wallace exclaimed. “I honestly think you take things too far. Not long ago you were quivering about a body being found.”

  “I know but I’ve recovered since the body is nowhere near me now.”

  “Since we’re not sure where Tom and Damon are, we might as well stop at the impound yard. The wrecker service runs from there. I’d like to check out the actors’ story about running out of gas so they couldn’t crash the party last night.”

  “Maybe they never planned on crashing, Agnes,” Eleanor said.

  “Why, when they were so insistent?”