“But it’s obvious to us now that the couple is impersonating the real Nancy and Ben Shepard, who we met earlier today.”
“And boy were they shocked when we showed up in their backyard,” Eleanor said.
Kimberly handed Danworth the printed copy of the imposter’s driver’s license. “I recognized the man from Jeremy’s office, and I was able to verify that the man who claims to be Ben had an appointment with my husband.”
“We didn’t know until we spoke to the real couple that there was an imposter. We suspect they might have unwittingly passed the tainted lemonade or knew of the poisoning.”
“Can I keep this?” Danworth asked.
“If we can get a copy,” Kimberly said.
“So why was the impostor at Jeremy’s office.”
“Under ordinary circumstance I’d tell you what Jeremy told me: that it’s confidential,” Kimberly said. “But we learned from Gladys that the man was asking about how long it takes before a will can be read.”
“Is that it?”
“Jeremy refused to tell me anything beyond that. I can’t imagine he’ll tell you anything.”
“Anything else?”
“Milly’s sister, Endora Green, is in town. She’s at Milly’s house trying to find paperwork to see if she had any insurance policies,” Agnes added.
“I’d be interested to know that too. Where do you plan to go from here?”
“I really don’t know,” Kimberly said with a slight frown. “It’s going to be hard to find out who the couple really are.”
“He might be related to Milly somehow.”
“We showed the photo to Endora, but she said she’d never seen the man before.”
Danworth rubbed his chin in thought. “This case is quite mysterious at the moment.”
“You could say that again,” Eleanor said.
“Thank you, Deputy Danworth, for speaking to us. We thought you might want to know what we’ve found thus far.”
“And believe me I appreciate it.”
Kimberly sighed as they walked along the sidewalk to the public beach. Two children scurried past with ice cream dripping to their bare chests.
“That’s the life,” Eleanor said. “There’s nothing like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day.”
Agnes eyed the pink and blue truck with a huge image of an ice cream cone. “We don’t have time for this right now.”
“But it’s an ice cream truck.” Kimberly winked as she led the way over to the line at the truck.
“I want ice cream!” a little boy screamed. His sister, looking to be about a year younger, echoed her brother. “I want ice cream too!”
“I told you we don’t have the money for that,” a woman said.
“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to buy ice cream for your children,” Kimberly said as she patted her pregnant belly.
The tired-looking woman smiled slightly. “What do you say, children?”
“Please,” they whined.
Agnes wiped at the tears that formed unexpectedly. “That was so kind of you, Kimberly.”
“I’m glad their mother allowed them to have an ice cream. You know, when I was pregnant with Abigail I had an uncertain future. If I hadn’t met Jeremy things might have been as dire for me.”
“You would have been fine,” Eleanor said. “Women are quite resilient when they need to be.”
Agnes paid for three ice cream cones and handed one to both Kimberly and Eleanor as they meandered over to a bench and plopped down.
Between licks Eleanor said. “I was thinking we need to find out who owns the UAW hall.”
“It’s owned by the United Automotive Workers Union,” Kimberly replied. “Though there aren’t any auto plants here. One had been planned for Redwater, but the company moved operations to Ohio before finalizing the deal.”
“So much for the UAW,” Eleanor said. “What a loss for the area.”
“I know, but the hall remained. It’s a popular venue for bingos and receptions. It’s one way the union collects funds.”
“So if the union owns the hall surely there must be someone who handles the bookings.”
“Like someone who likes bingo.” Eleanor snickered.
Agnes frowned. “I wonder why the local church doesn’t have a bingo.”
“How dare you suggest a bingo be held at a Baptist church.”
Agnes’ hands slipped to her hips. “The Catholics do it.”
“Yes, and the funds pay for scholarships and such,” Kimberly insisted. “The UAW hall is the only place in Redwater that can handle the bingos. This is a small town.”
Eleanor crunched the end of her cone and it was gone in two bites. Agnes handed her a few tissues to clean the chocolate ice cream from her pudgy face.
“Thanks, partner. We’d better find out who’s in charge of the hall.”
“I bet Mrs. Barry knows,” Kimberly said with wide eyes. “I believe she knows everyone in town.”
“Everyone?” Eleanor asked doubtful.
“Well, she knows all the gossip in town, and because she goes to bingo frequently I assume she’ll know who we should contact,” Kimberly said with a shrug.
Mrs. Barry stirred her drink thoughtfully. “The owner of the bingo hall?”
“Or the name of the person who handles the bookings,” Kimberly said.
“What makes you think I know who that might be?”
“Because you’re Mrs. Barry,” Eleanor smirked. “It’s my understanding that nothing escapes your notice.”
Mrs. Barry massaged her chin. “You’re right about that, but I’ll have to give that some thought.” She frowned as she took a sip of her drink. “From my recollection, Miller Tavish has taken care of the hall for years now, and his wife Joanne books the hall.”
“I don’t suppose you know how we could contact them?” Agnes asked.
“I could make a few calls if you can give me a ride to Mrs. Peacock’s house. Tonight is poker night. And you’re borrowing my car, don’t forget.”
“Poker night?” Eleanor burst out laughing. “Will there be any men there?”
“That’s none of your concern, but Pete Fobear, the butcher, will be there. And Arness, the owner of the hardware.” Mrs. Barry rubbed her hands together. “I should be able to clean up nicely.”
“We’d be happy to take you,” Agnes said.
Chapter Seven
Kimberly glided through the door of the hall and Agnes and Eleanor followed at a distance in the darkness.
Agnes felt along the wall near the door and flipped the lights on as an older woman barely five feet tall with salt and pepper hair approached them.
“Hello, ladies,” Joanne greeted them. “I hope we can keep this brief. Mrs. Barry invited me to the poker game tonight.”
Eleanor frowned. “Lucky duck. I heard the butcher was coming and grilling steaks.”
She made a disgusting face. “That’s fine if you like rare or medium rare steaks.”
“We don’t want to take too much of your time so we’ll keep it brief,” Kimberly said sweetly.
Eleanor elbowed her way between Kimberly and Agnes and asked, “How long have bingos been held here?”
“Ever since the hall was built; about ten years ago. And I assure you nobody has ever died in this hall before, not even from natural causes.”
“Do you know who works the bingos here?” Agnes asked.
“Well, Jack is the bingo caller and Ruthann runs concessions.”
“Does she ever work with someone else?” Kimberly asked.
“I can’t say, but I suppose she might have a few volunteers working for her. The bingo certainly draws quite a crowd, especially when there is a progressive pot for a coverall. Whoever bingos in fifty numbers wins, or if nobody gets a coverall the pot builds.”
“Remind me to come to the next bingo, Agnes,” Eleanor said.
“My husband is considering if there should be another bingo this week. We’d feel much better if the killer w
as found.”
“Which is why we’re here today,” Kimberly said. “We’ve put everything on hold until we bring the killer or killers to justice.”
“Oh my, I hope there isn’t more than one killer … I mean one killer is way too many.”
“I agree with that,” Agnes said. “What is Ruthann’s last name?”
“Ruthann Rufferage. She works at the IGA,” Joanne said. “She should be working today.”
“Thank you, Joanne. We’ll take our leave now,” Agnes said.
Eleanor beamed. “We’d hate for you to miss the poker game at Mrs. Peacock’s house.”
“I suppose it’s too much to hope that Mrs. Peacock would lock up that annoying bird.”
“I imagine those poker games are where Birdie picks up his colorful language.”
Eleanor climbed into an electric shopping cart and was off down the first aisle. Agnes and Kimberly had to run to catch up with her. Thankfully she stopped at the stockroom door and asked a young man about Ruthann Rufferage.
Agnes sighed as she spied a rather delectable cheesecake that moved to Eleanor’s cart at warp speed. Eleanor merely narrowed her eyes for a fraction of a second before a sixtyish-looking woman wearing a stained white apron appeared.
“I’ll meet you around back,” she announced with a quick nod of her head.
Kimberly removed the cheesecake and Agnes’s face fell. “Hey, I was going to buy that.”
“We don’t have time right now. We’re here to investigate.”
Eleanor laughed. “Agnes and I have always found a way to mix our mystery with sweets.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. My obstetrician told me I was gaining too much weight.”
Agnes shook her head. “I don’t know where. You’re barely carrying a basketball in your belly.”
“Yes, you’re cute pregnant,” Eleanor said. “It’s no wonder you’re pregnant again.”
“I hardly think that’s how it works … .”
Eleanor whizzed ahead. Whatever she was saying to Ruthann put a smile on her face.
“It’s nice to meet you ladies,” Ruthann said as they joined her. “Why you’re the most motley-looking investigators I’ve ever seen.”
Agnes smiled as she gave her salt and pepper hair a careful pat. “Most people are shocked that women our age are investigators.”
Ruthann nodded. “Especially when you’re doing so in the company of such a lovely young woman. I hope these two aren’t wearing you out, Kimberly.”
“Some days I wonder,” Kimberly replied. “I’m not sure what Eleanor told you, but we have some very important questions to ask you.”
“She’s said as much.” The woman pulled out a pack of gum and offered them a piece.
Once they were all chomping on the gum, Agnes asked, “Don’t you work concessions at the bingo at the UAW?”
“Oh, you’re here about what happened at the last bingo. I normally work concessions at the bingos there, but I had to take my mother to the hospital.”
“Can you tell us where?” Kimberly asked.
“The U of M hospital in Ann Arbor. And the traffic was horrendous. I have no idea how anyone lives in a big city like that.”
“And a college town at that,” Eleanor added.
“Tell me about it. It took me more than twenty minutes to get out of the city last month when we went, which is why I booked a hotel room for us for this trip.”
“So you didn’t return until today?”
“Early this morning actually, and that’s when my husband Jack told me all about what happened to Milly.” She wiped at the corners of her eyes. “I’ve been sick about it ever since.”
“It was very tragic,” Kimberly agreed. “Who filled in for you when you were out of town?”
“Clancy and Beverly Tiff. Why?”
Agnes glanced around and whispered, “We believe Milly might have been poisoned.”
Ruthann staggered back. “You think whatever poisoned her came from the snack bar?”
“We believe so,” Kimberly said. “Do you routinely sell lemonade?”
“It can’t be the lemonade… it’s fresh squeezed.”
“But we found broken-down boxes of lemonade in the fenced area of the trash compactor.”
“It must have been from another event. I have insisted that only fresh-squeezed lemonade be sold. It’s one of the things that I insisted upon. You might say it’s the signature item of the snack bar and a family secret.”
“If it’s such a family secret how can Clancy and Beverly know how to make it?” Kimberly asked with a frown.
“I have the dry ingredients in a locked cabinet in the kitchenette at the hall.”
“And who has a key besides you?” Agnes asked.
“Nobody other than my husband Jack.”
“Did Jack give the key to the couple who ran the snack bar that night?” Eleanor asked as she climbed off the electric cart to face Ruthann.
Ruthann frowned for a moment. “I’ll need to speak to Jack about that. I’ll bring him out here. He’s one of the store managers.” She disappeared through the back door.
Agnes and Kimberly exchanged a look. “If the secret ingredients are already measured out,” Agnes began.
“They could have been tampered with,” Kimberly finished.
“That’s a good observation, but even if they put all the ingredients in with the squeezed juice that doesn’t mean it couldn’t be tainted with poison,” Eleanor observed.
“I can’t wait to hear what Jack has to say.”
Jack ambled out, the globe of his bald head shining with perspiration thanks no doubt to the long-sleeved shirt, black pants and tie that was part of a manager’s attire. “I don’t have much time ladies.”
“We don’t need much time,” Agnes said. “We were curious about bingo the night Milly met her unfortunate end.”
“Many people in town wouldn’t call it unfortunate in Milly’s case.”
“Jack, that’s no way to speak of the dead!” Ruthann gasped. “Just because Milly was the town gossip doesn’t mean she deserved to be poisoned.”
“Poisoned, you say?” Jack turned to stare into Kimberly’s eyes. “I hope you’re not suggesting that the poison came from the snack bar.”
“We’re not sure,” Agnes said. “Did you give the key to the cabinet that contained the secret ingredients to Clancy and Beverly?”
“I don’t have time to unlock cabinets in the kitchenette when I’m the bingo caller and have my own area to set up.”
Agnes nodded. “I can’t say I blame you. How long have the Tiffs worked the snack bar when Ruthann isn’t available?”
“About once a month, when my mother-in-law has a doctor’s appointment, but I’m sure my wife told you all about that.”
“And what do you think of the couple?” Eleanor asked.
“They’re fine, I guess. I mean, it’s not like I’ve spent a lot of time with them. But they do their job. I can’t believe you’d think Clancy and Beverly would poison Milly.”
“We’re not accusing them, but it’s important to follow the clues where they lead,” Kimberly said, “especially when Clancy and Beverly gave us different names when we asked them.”
“Really?” Ruthann asked. “Now that is peculiar.”
“That’s what we thought,” Agnes said. “They certainly didn’t want to answer any of our questions either. I believe they might be hiding something. We met the real Nancy and Ben Shepard.”
“Is that who they said they were?” Ruthann asked.
“Yes. And we met the Shepards recently. They bear no resemblance to Clancy and Beverly, I can tell you that.”
“I’d appreciate it if you would tell us what the Tiffs have to say,” Jack said. “I don’t like this whole lying about who they really are business.”
“Thank you for answering our questions,” Kimberly said. “Could you please tell us where we might find Clancy and Beverly?”
“Having a rummage sal
e I’d think. There’s a townwide rummage sale the next few days.”
“Really, is that all you can tell us?” Eleanor asked.
“I’m sorry, but they never gave me their address,” Jack said. “We didn’t ask too many questions and were thankful they answered the Craigslist ad.”
“So you hired them off Craigslist?” Agnes asked with a sad shake of her head. “It looks like we’ll be rummaging for the remainder of the day.”
They climbed back in the car and Kimberly rubbed her temples. “This is hopeless. We’d have an easier time finding a needle in a haystack.”
“Well, we better get moving,” Eleanor said. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy about this little adventure. It’s been ages since we’ve been able to check out rummage sales.”
“I suspect they can’t be much different than those we’ve gone to before,” Agnes said.
“My feet hurt thinking about it,” Kimberly admitted.
“You should be able to find baby clothes for your son,” Eleanor said.
“Who says it’s a boy?” Kimberly asked.
“Of course you’re having a boy. Your butt isn’t huge like it is when you’re pregnant with a girl.”
“I’ll have you know my butt wasn’t huge when I carried Abigail.”
“Stop it, Eleanor. You’re upsetting Kimberly.”
“I’m not trying to upset her. I shouldn’t have said that. I can’t imagine Kimberly would grow a huge booty even if she was carrying twins.”
“Bite your tongue -- off if necessary,” Kimberly scolded Eleanor. “I wouldn’t know what to do with three babies all in diapers.”
“Did they do an ultrasound yet?”
“Stop it, Eleanor,” Agnes hissed.
“All I was trying to say that an ultrasound would show if Kimberly was carrying triplets.”
“Triplets now?” Kimberly gasped. “I think someone else should drive. I’m feeling quite sick at the moment.”
Agnes moved into the driver’s seat and drove down the road in the direction of the rummage sale signs.
“Why don’t we do a drive-by,” Eleanor suggested.
“Sometimes I wonder about you ladies,” Kimberly said. “First you have me carrying triplets and now you’re going to do a drive-by?”
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