by Marja McGraw
My aunt scowled. “We wouldn’t dream…”
“…of interfering,” my mother finished.
That was the last straw. Felicity and I both started to laugh.
The scowl was turned on us and it had the desired effect. We both quieted down.
“I remember Mateo said he’d be working in this area when the trouble started. He came home one night and seemed agitated. That’s when he started talking about seeing something and needing me to take Sophie and leave for a while.” Zasu was pointing at the computer screen.
Stanley nodded and called Pete over.
My aunt’s scowl deepened. “You realize, I hope, that Livvie and I can scout the area easier than you can. No one would suspect us of searching for anything.”
I surprised myself when I said, “She has a point, Pete.”
Apparently I surprised him, too. His head whipped around so fast I was half afraid he’d hurt himself.
Aunt Martha looked very smug. “Fine. When do we start?”
“In case you haven’t noticed,” Pete said, “there’s another storm coming. Why would two little… Why would two older women be out traipsing through the forest in a storm?”
My mother was ready for him. “We’re two birdwatchers who got lost and we’re trying to find our way home.”
I knew I’d regret what I was about to say. “I’ll go with them.”
“Me, too,” Stanley said. “Pete, let’s be realistic. You don’t look like a birdwatcher. I do.”
Felicity’s mood suddenly shifted. “You mean you’d leave me here alone? Really, Stan? With the baby coming?”
“Pete will be here with you, sugar lump. And someone has to remain here to watch over Sophie. We’ll move the crib to their house before we leave.”
“I don’t know anything about babies,” Pete said.
“Well, it’s about time you learned.” My mother was using her take-no-prisoners tone of voice.
Pete surreptitiously glanced at Felicity’s baby belly before his gaze turned to Sophie, and he ended with his eyes focused on me. “Maybe you’re right.”
I gulped. Uh oh. We played right into his hands. Talk of babies wasn’t what I’d had in mind.
I pretended I hadn’t heard him. “Let’s figure this out,” I said, turning to Stanley. “Would you please get us an updated weather report?”
He nodded and started tapping keys on the laptop.
“This storm is slow moving. If I were you I’d take advantage of it and go soon.”
He turned to Zasu.
“About how long will it take them to reach this area?”
She thought for a moment. “If traffic is good in town, about forty minutes.”
My mother grabbed her sister’s hand. “Let’s get moving. We’ve got to go change clothes and put on the hiking boots.” She waved her hand in the air. “Does anyone have binoculars?”
“I do,” I said. “Stan has a pair, too.”
“Well, we’ll need four pairs. I’ll bet Gloria has some, too,” Aunt Martha said. “That woman is nosey and I’ll bet she’s got a couple of pair at the B&B.”
She turned to me.
“While we’re travelling, I’ll tell you some of the good Gloria stories. She’s a pip, alright.”
“Oh, goodie. I can’t wait.” I turned and headed for my own home to change clothes, too.
Pete and Stanley hauled the crib to our house and set it up in the guest room.
~ * ~
The drive took about forty-five minutes. I glanced at my watch. “You realize, don’t you, that it’s kind of late in the day for this little jaunt?”
“We’ll be fine,” my mother said, reaching over and patting my hand.
“This will make it more of an adventure,” my aunt added.
“How can I get through to you two that what I do isn’t an adventure? This is work, and sometimes it’s dangerous. We
don’t know what we’re walking into out there.”
“She’s right,” Stanley said. “Our job isn’t a game. We’ve been in trouble on more than one occasion.”
“Maybe we should have brought Bubba with us,” I said. “I always feel a little safer when he’s with me. I guess it’s his size.”
I glanced at my watch again.
“We really should have waited until tomorrow when we could get an early start.”
I had butterflies in my stomach. I wasn’t prone to nervousness, but it was part of my being at the moment. What had we gotten into?
Stanley, who was in the back seat, reached forward and tapped my shoulder. “Maybe we should have let the police do their job.”
“You could be right.”
Chapter Ten
“I want everyone to keep their eyes open now. Look for anything power company related, and maybe there will be signs of recent work,” I said. “Look for power poles or something like that.”
We were travelling on dirt roads in the area Zasu had indicated on the map. I drove slowly, looking up, down and all around, just as I’d learned to do. We tried a number of different roads, crossing railroad tracks a few times.
Stanley was the first one to see anything. “Look,” he said, pointing. “It looks like someone drove off in a hurry.”
The rain had almost obliterated the tracks, but there they were. The tire tracks were wide and obviously belonged to a large, heavy vehicle, indicating a truck had parked here. Apparently when the driver took off the tires had dug into the mud before he could get traction.
I stopped the Jeep and got out to take a closer look. It only took about ten seconds for my mother and aunt to start breathing down my neck. I ignored them, or at least I tried to.
Looking up, I saw an old power pole. Could it still be in use? Out here, in the middle of nowhere? I shrugged, having no idea.
We were sitting on the edge of a forest area, off the beaten path. Could this be where Mateo witnessed something? It couldn’t hurt to look around, but what were the odds?
I turned to my mother and aunt, stifling a laugh. They were wearing jeans, flannel shirts, and hiking boots – nothing to laugh at there. However, my mother wore a tan bucket hat, soft cloth with the brim down. My aunt wore a camouflage baseball cap. And they both had binoculars hanging from a strap around their neck. They also wore, and this was the kicker, fishing vests. My mother had a book about birds of Washington sticking out of a pocket. Neither one of them wore their usual make-up, another kicker.
“Where did you get those vests?” I asked.
“Gloria’s husband loaned them to us, but I think it was against his better judgment. According to him, he’s quite the fisherman.” My mother spread her hands apart, indicating a very large fish.
“By the way,” my aunt said, “we made it a point not to tell Phil what’s going on. He thinks we’re birdwatching, too.”
I shook my head and turned to Stanley. “Can you believe these two?”
Before he could comment, my aunt said, “Well, at least we look like birdwatchers and with these hats and no make-up, we aren’t that noticeable. You are. Why would you wear a bright yellow windbreaker with your jeans? And those athletic shoes aren’t going to get you very far. At least Stan knows how to dress.”
I glanced at my feet. I didn’t have any hiking boots and, frankly, I was surprised that my aunt had brought two pairs with her.
Not being noticeable was better than looking like little old ladies, but I couldn’t say either one really looked old. And I guess I did stick out like a sore thumb.
I took a longer look at Stanley. He wore a tan shirt with
multiple pockets, hiking books and a hat similar to my mother’s. He also had binoculars hanging from around his neck. He’d neglected to shave, too. In lieu of his contacts lenses, he wore his glasses.
Time to keep my mouth closed.
“Okay, let’s take a quick look around the area. Specifically, in the woods. Keep your eyes open.”
They each nodded and we headed off, into the forest.
Every so often my mother would lift her binoculars and point at a tree as though she’d seen a bird. My aunt would nod enthusiastically before they each began studying the terrain again. I also noticed that they were pretending to talk. Their lips moved, but no sound came out.
I shook my head and thought about it. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around, so they probably didn’t need to put on an act.
We hadn’t gone very far when Stanley grabbed my arm. “Look,” he said, pointing away from the path we were on.
“What?” I couldn’t figure out what he was trying to call to my attention.
“There,” he said. “Those bushes have been disturbed. I’m going to check it out.”
“I’ll wait here,” I said.
My mother and Aunt Martha had moved farther ahead of us. I felt like I should have tied a rope around their waists so I wouldn’t lose them.
Stanley was only gone for a minute before returning. “Nothing. An animal must have run through there.”
Glancing up, I realized I’d lost sight of my relatives. “Come on, Stan. We’re losing them.”
We reached a fork in the path and I had no idea which way the ladies had gone.
“You take the left and I’ll take the right,” I said.
Stanley nodded and turned to his left. Before long, he
was out of sight, too.
I sighed, frustrated. Where could they have gone? I didn’t think we were that far behind them.
It was so quiet. A squirrel scurried across my path, glancing at me on his way by. The sound of thunder came from off in the distance.
I glanced up through the trees, but all I could see were charcoal grey clouds, which made the forest just that much darker. Deciding the storm was closing in, I knew it was time to leave. We’d have to come back another time.
That’s when I saw it. A shoe stuck out from under a bush, and it didn’t look like it had been there long. The bush had protected it to a degree, but it was still waterlogged from the weather. I bent over and took a closer look. It was an expensive man’s shoe, not something someone would wear while hiking through the forest. I didn’t want to think about how it might have made it to this location, remembering that Mateo had said he’d seen something he shouldn’t have. You wouldn’t think a simple shoe would make things feel ominous, but it did. I had a bad feeling.
Stanley caught up to me. “The other trail ended, so I came in search of you. I didn’t see any footprints, either.”
I mentally slapped my forehead. “Of course. I’m losing my touch. I didn’t look for footprints.”
Lo and behold, there were two pairs of small footprints along the path.
Underneath those, there were barely discernable larger prints. I couldn’t tell how many there were because they’d been almost obliterated. There was a deeper rut, but I’d figure that one out later.
“Follow those prints,” I said, pointing at the smaller, fresher ones. “And leave something to mark this spot. I found a shoe, and it’s not a hiking shoe.”
He took off his hat and set it by the trail.
I glanced up again.
“I think the storm is just about on top of us, so let’s hurry.”
Stanley had already moved ahead of me. “I wonder how they got so far in front of us.”
“You never know with my mother and aunt. I think they’re like kids. They wander off in search of a butterfly that flew past them, or maybe they really saw a bird. I think they’re easily distracted.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“No, not really. I love them to pieces, but they drive me nuts.”
It was time to take action.
“Mother,” I yelled. “Aunt Martha? Where are you?”
The only reply I heard, so to speak, was silence.
“I believe the trees are hampering your voice from carrying,” Stanley said.
I yelled louder.
Nothing.
“I hope the trees are the only problem we have to face,” I said. “Let’s hurry.”
A wind had come up and the tops of the trees swayed.
Thunder boomed in the distance again. As Stanley had said, sound didn’t carry as far in the forest. Maybe the storm was closer than I imagined.
I had visions of driving out of here in the rain and on muddy roads.
“Mother!” I hollered.
I thought I heard something ahead of us, but there was no verbal reply.
“Stan, look at the sky. We’ve got to find them and get out of here.”
He glanced skyward and started power walking down the trail.
It seemed that nothing involving my mother and my aunt was ever easy. Oh, that the day would come when I’d
call out and they’d simply come running.
Be careful what you wish for – words to live by.
Before I could form another thought in my mind, Aunt Martha came barreling down the path and almost ran into Stanley.
“Come quick,” she said, turning and running back in the direction she’d come from. “Your mother is…”
I couldn’t hear the rest of what she said, but Stanley and I ran after her. I’d heard something unsettling in her voice.
She rounded a curve in the trail and disappeared again.
“Hurry,” she yelled.
“We’re coming,” I yelled back.
We rounded the corner and saw my aunt standing and staring at a clump of bushes.
My mother’s head popped up out of the bushes. Her face was pale and drawn, not a good sign.
“What…?”
I had an overwhelming sense of dread.
“Mother?” I hurried the rest of the way and stood by my aunt.
My mother was bending over, studying a man’s dead body.
The first thing I noticed was that he only wore one shoe.
The second thing I noticed was my mother holding her stomach and running to the other side of the path to toss her cookies.
Chapter Eleven
I pulled out my cell phone to call the police, but there was no reception.
“I’ve got this,” Stanley said. “I’ll head back toward the car and see if there’s reception when I walk out of the forest.”
While Stanley was gone I noticed that there were drag marks, and we’d been stepping all over them. I pointed at them and motioned my mother and aunt to walk along the sides of the path.
For some reason, being around my mother and my aunt caused me to lose perspective and my sense of being a knowledgeable detective. In other words, under normal circumstances I wouldn’t be walking all over a crime scene. I would have looked first and walked later.
“I’ll check to see if he has some ID on him.” Aunt Martha turned toward the body.
“No, you won’t,” I said, using my stern voice, which I knew she’d probably ignore. “You stay put. We’ve already walked all over the evidence. We’re going back to the Jeep to wait for the police.”
“How are we going to explain finding the body?” Mother asked.
“Tell them you were birdwatching,” I replied.
“But that’s a lie,” she said.
“I was being sarcastic, Mother. Would you rather tell them we were doing their job for them? They didn’t have Zasu to show them where to look. We did. We’ll share our information with them.”
“Do we have to go back to the Jeep?” Aunt Martha asked.
“Sandi, can’t we stay here?” This from my mother after she’d just gotten sick by the side of the path.
All of a sudden I felt like the parent instead of the child.
“We’re going back to the Jeep. Besides, it’s starting to get dark and I’d rather not get lost out here in the woods.”
Reluctantly, they followed me back to the road where we found Stanley watching and waiting.
“I told them they’d better alert Detective Redding,” Stanley said. “I thought he should know we might have found what started this whole fiasco. You did say his name was Redding, right?�
��
Aunt Martha’s shoulders stiffened. “I don’t think I’d call murder a fiasco.”
Stanley looked contrite and took a step back.
“Aunt Martha, we don’t know if it was murder or not. We need to wait for the cops.” I knew the poor man had been killed, but I wanted to try to rein her in. Fat chance of that happening.
My mother pursed her lips before speaking. “It was murder, Sandra. I saw him up close and personal, which is why I had an upset stomach. It looked like he’d been shot in the chest.”
I’d noticed that, but I was trying to keep things on a calm level.
We were outside of town and it took the police about twenty minutes to arrive. Detective Redding was right behind the patrol car.
Without preamble he said, “Show me the way to the body.”
“Nice to see you, too, Detective Redding.”
He took a closer look at me. “Oh. You’re the woman who talked Zasu Pitts into coming in, aren’t you?”
“That’s me. Sandi Webster, uh, Goldberg. Now follow me, but watch out for the trail. It looks like the body was dragged from the location of the attack.”
He raised his eyebrows, but didn’t comment.
The sky had darkened with storm clouds and what little light there was, was disappearing. I stopped at the Jeep and pulled a flashlight out of the glove compartment.
Detective Redding held his up to show he was prepared.
He turned to the cop who’d arrived first. “Samuels, take a statement from these people.”
He took a second look at my mother and aunt. “I remember you two, too. Stay right where you are.”
We took off down the trail, each walking along the sides. We turned to the right where the trail forked and I stopped to show Redding the shoe. He nodded, but didn’t pick it up. “Is this relevant?”
“Yes. The body we found was missing a shoe.”
As we approached the bushes that hid the body, I warned Redding to watch where he stepped.
Again, he raised his eyebrows.
I pointed the flashlight toward the side of the trail. “After my mother found the body, she got sick.”
He took a long, careful step to my side of the trail. “Thanks for the warning.”
