Map Skills Murder

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Map Skills Murder Page 2

by Leslie Langtry


  "What are you doing?" Kelly shouted.

  "It's a coffin with the remains of an old pioneer pirate who was hung for witchcraft!" Lauren squealed excitedly.

  I nodded. "I don't think it's…whatever Lauren just said…but it's something."

  Actually, it was a box. About two-foot by one-foot in size. I tugged on it, and it came free, causing me to fall backward with the crate on my chest. Not my most graceful moment. I was surrounded as the other girls joined the circle. Twelve little faces looked down on me, and I wondered for a moment if this wasn't what being the body at a wake was like.

  After righting myself, I set the chest down and brushed the rest of the dirt off. It was old. Well, it looked old. I was no historian, but to me the decaying wood and rusted hinges seemed to be at least from the last century.

  "It's got a lock on it!" one of the Kaitlyns shouted.

  I examined the padlock. The iron was covered in rust, and it looked fairly brittle. I stood up, took aim with the spade I didn't own, and hit it hard. The lock fell apart.

  The girls cheered loudly as I opened the box.

  "What is it?" Kelly asked.

  "Is it a dead dog?"

  "Is it a human heart?"

  "Is it a human head?"

  "Is it a pumpkin carved to look like a wombat?"

  The last comment came from Inez, and we looked at her curiously. The girl said nothing more.

  "It's way better than that," I said as I pulled the contents up into the air. "It's a treasure map!"

  CHAPTER TWO

  "It's not a treasure map," Kelly said to the girls.

  "Oh yes it is," I said as I gingerly gripped it by the two top corners and carried it over to the tables.

  The girls let out an audible gasp as I laid it out. The yellowed page was torn and crumbling, and the writing was a bit blurry. How was it even in this good state after being buried unprotected for so long?

  "The Peters Treasure!" Kelly gasped in spite of herself.

  Who's There, our town, had been founded by Theobald and his wife, Euphemia. They'd started a lumber mill and bar, and the town sort of grew up around it. And when they died, they left a substantial fortune to their granddaughter Mehitable, which must have been a great disappointment to their grandson Eustace.

  Maybe it was her strange name, but Mehitable was considered a bit…off. She ain't right was what most local folks wrote in their pioneer diaries (something I'm surprised they even did), about the girl. She never married or had kids. The descendants came from Eustace.

  "I always thought it was murder," Kelly mused.

  I nodded. "Everyone did."

  That was when I noticed a sea of eager faces surrounding us.

  "You guys never heard this story?" I asked.

  Eleven girls shook their heads. Betty nodded. Of course she knew about it.

  "I don't think we should tell the girls," Kelly said.

  "It's part of Who's There history," I replied. "Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it." I had no idea who said that, but someone important did, and it sounded good.

  Kelly rolled her eyes. "I hardly think these girls are going to become axe murderers because they don't know the story."

  "Axe murder?" the girls cried out collectively.

  "Now you did it," I chided my best friend. "You said 'murder' earlier and 'axe murder' now. You really leave me no choice."

  The girls were jumping up and down, screaming with joy. I probably should have discouraged it, but I loved this story when I was a kid.

  "You guys all know about the Peters, right?"

  Twelve hands shot into the air.

  "This is about their granddaughter Mehitable. She inherited the family fortune, and her brother, Eustace, did not."

  "Well that sucks," Betty interrupted.

  I ignored her, because she was right.

  "Eustace got married, had kids, and eventually became a very wealthy farmer. Mehitable didn't do any of those things. She got the huge house but never married. For years people saw her on the street, wearing clothes made of meat, or walking a llama. She was kind of like the first Lady Gaga, without the smarts."

  "Where'd she get a llama?" Lauren wanted to know.

  "That's an excellent question," I said. "And the answer is, I don't know."

  "Get to the part about the map," Ava said.

  "And the axe murder," Caterina added.

  "Okay. Well, Mehitable didn't live too long. She was thirty years old in 1911. And the other residents noticed one day that they hadn't seen her in a while. So a couple of men went to check the house."

  I paused for dramatic effect. "They found her in the dining room, with an axe sticking out of her head." I looked at the eager faces around me. "She was dead." Not sure I needed to add that last part.

  "Wow!" all the girls screamed.

  I was starting to wonder if they operated on a hive mind. If that was the case, Betty was definitely the Queen Bee.

  "Now you guys may not know it, but there've been a number of axe murders in Iowa. The Villesca House, John Hossack in Indanola. But Mehitable was ours."

  Kelly sighed, realizing she was overruled. "Everyone suspected her brother, Eustace, but he had an alibi. He'd been in Texas for a month, buying cattle."

  I took over because this was the good part. "The sheriff finally decided that it was a suicide."

  The girls looked doubtful. Smart girls.

  "I know, right? Anyway, they decided that she'd hit herself in the head with the axe. But before she did, she'd hidden all that money she'd inherited from her grandparents."

  "She didn't spend it?" one of the Kaitlyns asked.

  Kelly answered. "No. She lived very cheaply. The estimate of how much she had by the time she died was $50,000."

  Lauren frowned. "That's not much."

  I said, "You might think so, but that much money was the equivalent of one million dollars today."

  "They never found the money?" Ava prodded.

  "Nope. People thought she hid it in the house, but they looked and never found it there."

  Kelly added, "They dug up the yard too, but nothing. And it was weird because she had a will that said she left everything to her llama. And when her llama died, it would all go to Eustace.

  "The llama died two weeks later, Kelly continued. The story is that Eustace's family searched the old homestead for years but found nothing. But since he was already wealthy in his own right, he gave up, and that was the end of that."

  My eyes turned back to the map. "Some folks thought she buried the money. But after a while, people moved on."

  Ava rubbed her chin. "Would paper money from the olden days be worth the same money today?"

  "That's a good question. But the gossip was, because she never used the bank in town, that it was gold bullion and she'd buried it herself."

  I'd always loved this story as a kid. Kelly and I had ridden our bikes around town, hoping to find a gold bar sticking out of the ground.

  We never did.

  "We should find the treasure." Betty smacked her fist.

  "I think we should solve her murder," Lauren suggested.

  The girls divided up, taking sides, and while they debated, Kelly and I took another look at the map.

  "MP." I pointed to the initials in the lower right-hand corner. "It has to be her."

  "The town plat here looks like it did one hundred years ago." Kelly squinted. "But if it's a map, where's the big X?"

  She had a point. A line wove through the town, winding around houses and crossing back over itself multiple times. And then it faded to nothing. I held it up to the sun, but couldn't see it. I turned it over. On the back was a hand-drawn picture of a llama. Yup. Definitely hers.

  "Mehitable's Map." Kelly shook her head. "People have been looking for that thing for one hundred years. And it was in your backyard all this time. The question is, why is it in your yard?"

  I shook my head. "No clue." To be honest, I was a little freake
d out by that.

  Kelly asked, "Do you think the treasure is here too?"

  I shook my head. "There'd be no need for a map if the treasure was right here." I thought about this for a second. "There's one place we should check first."

  Kelly's eyes grew wide. "You're really going to look for the treasure?"

  "Of course. Why? Did you think I was kidding?"

  She looked at me for a long while and then sighed. "I guess not. So what's the one place we should check first?"

  "Her house. And I just so happen to know the owners."

  CHAPTER THREE

  The kidnap breakfast had been a success. After the girls and Kelly had gone, my cell went off. I couldn't help but smile.

  "Randi! I was just thinking of you!" I went to pick up a paper bag, and it was surprisingly heavy. Philby was inside, giving me the stink eye, as if to say How dare you! You can't see me!

  "Really? Well, I was just calling because I have an idea for your wedding! Can you come over in the morning?"

  "Absolutely." I hung up.

  For the past month, since I'd met her for the first time, Randi had made suggestions for the wedding décor on a regular basis. A replica wedding diorama made of dead kittens…two mice dressed as the bride and groom for the top of the cake…a photo of me, in my dress, surrounded by happy woodland creatures playing instruments…and dead fish in the punch bowls.

  These ideas terrified me, mostly because I wondered how she was going to get thirty dead kittens for the diorama, and I was pretty sure dead fish in the punch wasn't exactly a hygienically sound idea.

  Randi had assured me that the kittens died from natural causes, which made me wonder exactly what they had in their basement. I imagined a large chest cooler filled with animals in baggies. How did you get thirty kittens who died of natural causes, anyway?

  The hardest part was finding a way to turn her down without upsetting her. By some small miracle, I'd managed so far. But sooner or later I knew I'd have to give in.

  The next morning Rex dropped by, surprising me with one dozen donuts and an intimate smile that always made me a little weak in the knees. Some people think that the way to a woman's heart is with diamonds or flowers. With me, it's any cake-like substance. It's possible I might have a problem.

  "By the way," I said through a mouthful of donuts. "Your sisters have another idea for the wedding. I'm heading over there next. Any special requests? Maybe an elephant as the best man or a ring-tailed lemur as the ring bearer?"

  Rex shook his head as he pulled me against him. "How about nothing dead at our wedding?"

  "I'm working on it." I really was. But the twins never seemed to hear those words when I said them.

  "Good luck!" He kissed me in a way that suggested there was more to come later.

  With a naughty little wink, he walked out the door.

  Randi and Ronni Ferguson operated their business out of the old Peters House on Main Street. The first house built in town, it was a lovely Victorian with lots of bric-a-brac and gingerbread. Sadly, that did not mean the house was edible. And yes, I asked.

  Since they'd moved in, the women had fixed up the house, painting it in bright colors with special attention to detail. The exterior of the old house had been fully restored to its original nineteenth-century glory. Inside was another matter.

  As I entered, the doorbell rang out with the sound of dogs barking. It was a nice replacement for the original, which had sounded like a gunshot and had always sent me into a nosedive.

  "Merry?" Randi shouted from the back. "I'll be out in a minute!"

  The inside of the house looked like an after-hours party in the magic forest of a deranged wizard. Animals of every make and model were either posed in mid-pounce or turned into something resembling people doing peopley stuff.

  On my right, two warthogs in overalls were entrenched in a fierce game of checkers. In front of me, two mountain lions played Twister while wearing bunny suits. On my left was a dozen squirrels fleeing a Godzilla-like Great Dane on a rampage through the countryside.

  The most amazing thing about this place was that this stuff sold. Every time I was in here, they had all new dioramas. Randi said that they did a lot of online business and that the basement was full of work waiting to be displayed. Ronni threatened me with a deceased flamingo when I asked if I could go down there. It was never a good idea to upset a crazy woman armed with waterfowl.

  How was it possible that Rex turned out so normal, considering that his sisters were so…um…eccentric? Could it be that their estrangement had something to do with it? Should I thank the twins for that?

  A noise on my left made me turn with a smile, only to find a scowling Ronni, her arms crossed over her chest, clearly planning my demise. I wondered how she'd stuff me. My demented brain came up with all sorts of unseemly ideas.

  "Oh, hi, Ronni," I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

  "Stop distracting Randi with all your stupid wedding requests!" she growled. "We've got seven badgers in the back for a special order with the University of Wisconsin, and we're not done with it."

  Correcting her and insisting that these wedding things were all Randi's ideas would do no good, because I'd told her many times over. For some reason, Ronni wanted me to be the bad guy.

  "Okay" was all I said. It was all I ever said because it always seemed to appease her and make her leave the room.

  "Merry! My favorite sister-in-law to be!" Randi joined me, holding something covered in a cloth.

  I hugged her because she liked it when I did that. As an only child, I figured this kind of thing was required. For years the twins and their baby brother, Rexley, had been estranged due to some unfortunate incident with a dead armadillo. I wasn't sure exactly what happened, because none of them would explain any further. Apparently, when angry, Ronni's modus operandi was the liberal application of deceased critters.

  A few months back I'd reunited the brother and his sisters. I was kind of proud of that. Rex had never really thanked me for it, but I knew deep down he was kind of, sort of happy.

  "Now Merry…" Randi's face was flushed with excitement.

  Here we go…

  "Keep an open mind, but I have a great idea!"

  She always called terrible ideas great ones. Maybe she had some sort of weird dyslexia. I was waiting for the day when she told me she'd had a terrible idea—even if I wasn't sure I wanted to know what that idea would be.

  "You need a garter to toss, so I came up with this." She whipped the cloth off the thing in her hand.

  I gasped, which she took to mean that I loved it.

  "Praying mantids? For my garter?"

  Four very large, very dead praying mantids were attached foot to—um—forearm, to form a ring that would apparently go around my thigh. Each one wore a tiny wedding veil, and as a testament to her talent, they all seemed to be smiling.

  "Do you," I said slowly, "think this might give off the wrong message? I mean, don't mantids bite their husbands' heads off after sex? It would be a short wedding night."

  The short, plump brunette's face fell, and she stared at the creatures. "I hadn't thought of that."

  Most people would have tried to cheer the woman up, but I'd had lots of practice. I waited until she burst into a huge smile seconds later.

  "That's okay, because I have a really great idea I've been holding back!"

  She always said that. Randi was very creative with an endless well of ideas for putting dead animals into weird situations. She handed me the mantids chain.

  "Take it anyway," she said. "You can wear it on your head for the rehearsal dinner!" Randi clapped her hands in glee.

  I turned the ring of bugs around in my hands. "Isn't it a bit fragile?"

  My future sister shook her head. "I reinforced them with wire and a lot of superglue. I'd better get back to work. I should have the perfect thing in a day or two!"

  Ronni appeared, looking more furious than usual. Which was saying a lot.
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  "What is it?" Randi's voice softened at the sight of her sister.

  "Mail!" her twin shrieked.

  I'd never heard anyone scream the word mail with the hostility you'd usually reserve for a Chechen terrorist, or that bag boy at the store who dumps a watermelon on top of your bananas (I really hate that guy).

  "Excuse me, Merry. We have a small issue to deal with. Come back soon!"

  Randi ran off into the back, and I nosed around the house. This had been the home of Mad Mehitable (or Mad Mimi, as she was known). History said the house had been virtually taken apart by her brother, Eustace, when she died. If that was true, there'd be no point in searching here.

  Still, it was always smart to start from the beginning. The dozens of glass-eyed animals blocked me from most of the walls, but what I could get to seemed legit. The drywall was old. Maybe the twins had noticed something. If they had, would they tell Rex, or keep it to themselves?

  And while I wouldn't put that past Ronni, I was sure Randi would've said something had she found a million dollars in gold bullion. What would they have spent it on? I wondered. Several horrifying ideas popped into my head, and I decided not to pursue that avenue of thinking.

  Hopefully, the sisters wouldn't realize I was still here. I moved very carefully through the parlor and out into the hallway. The creaking floorboards reminded me that the twins hadn't done anything to the interior. The ceilings had water stains on them.

  I thought of the map and wondered if that flimsy piece of paper was all a ruse to hide the fact that the money was inside the house? People said Eustace looked for it and went away empty-handed. I'd think he would've been very motivated to find his grandparents' money.

  Maybe I wasn't looking at the puzzle clearly. Maybe I should start with why the Peters had cut their grandson out of the will.

  I opened the door, realizing too late that the alarm would go off. I hightailed it to my car and was out of there before Ronni found out I'd lingered.

 

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