Having a Great Crime- Wish You Were Here

by Marja McGraw

  “By the way, Felicity called. We’ll have to pick them up at five o’clock.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be ready.”

  Sasha and Kimberly descended the stairs and joined Sam on the porch. Pete rejoined them and they took off with the metal detectors in hand.

  Bea walked out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “I couldn’t help but hear your conversation. I wish I could go with you, but my presence might make Jack uncomfortable.”

  “You’re probably right. I’m a stranger from out of town, and you’re a local. He may open up more to someone who doesn’t live here. I can’t help it. I have a feeling there’s more to him than just a resemblance to someone Bonnie knew.”

  Bea had a smug look on her face. “Like I said, I have a feeling it’s not a coincidence. You know, it’s fascinating to see what you and your husband are doing to try to solve this case. Is it okay if I follow what you’re doing?”

  I nodded. “Sure. And feel free to ask questions. Sometimes the best answers come from questions I wouldn’t have thought to ask. It’s hard to see things from every perspective because it’s so easy to zero in on one aspect of a situation.”

  She made a clicking noise out of the side of her mouth. “Uh huh. Your mother wasn’t joking when she said you’re a smart cookie.”

  “Thanks!” Sometimes my mother truly surprised me. It was nice to know she occasionally bragged about her daughter.

  Bea walked outside and I picked up my list of phone numbers, making my next call to the local library.

  A harried sounding woman answered the phone. It must be a busy day at the library.

  “I understand you have copies of the local newspaper on microfilm. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Would that include articles from the 1930s?”

  She paused before replying. “You must be the lady detective who’s staying at the Mossy Glen Inn.”

  I couldn’t stop myself. I laughed.

  “Very perceptive,” I said.

  “Well, come on in and I’ll get you set up.”

  “Thank you. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I’ll know it when I see it.”

  She gave me directions to the library and I told her I’d be in the next day.

  “We’re all anxious to see if you can figure out the unsolved murder of that actress. It’s the most famous crime in this whole area.”

  “I’ll give it my best shot.” I could feel a huge smile forming on my lips.

  I couldn’t believe how fast the news had traveled in this small town. I guessed the key was the fact that it was a small town.

  Unbidden, Kimberly’s name popped into my head. I’d have to ask her if she’d been spreading the word. Of course, it was a very old crime, so what did it matter? Maybe some of the old-timers would be more forthcoming with me if they had a little time to think it over.

  That thought reminded me that I wanted to call Bradley Singleton. I was surprised that he didn’t have any link to Bonnie, but having the same surname didn’t mean much. Look at Pete, my Italian husband whose last name is Goldberg. You couldn’t judge by a surname.

  Which made me think of Jack Fisher. I guess you can’t judge by appearance, either.

  Chapter Twelve

  I called Bradley Singleton and reached an answering machine. I left him a message saying I’d been told he knew a lot about local history, and I asked him to phone me. At Bea’s urging, I left her phone number so if I was out, she’d be able to take his call. I didn’t want to be interrupted if I was in the middle of an interview, such as the one I’d be having with Jack Fisher.

  Checking my email account, I found a confirmation from the woman at the Sheriff’s Office about the records I’d requested. She’d asked that my request be rushed if it was possible.

  Rush is an understatement, I thought. I can’t believe it’s already the end of the week.

  “There’s no way we can solve this murder quickly.” I spoke to the air, or more likely, to myself.

  I should have been getting used to Bea, but I jumped when she spoke from behind my left shoulder.

  “You can stay as long as you need to. The rooms will remain available to you and your friends.”

  “Yes, but Bea, we have a business to get back to and you have a business to run, too. We can’t stay much longer.”

  “If I had to guess? You won’t be able to let go of this until you have an answer or you’re sure there’s no answer to be found.”

  “My mother has influenced you greatly.” My suspicious side poked its head up and I narrowed my eyes at our hostess. “Have you been calling my mother and keeping her up-to-date on our investigation?”

  Bea smiled and walked away from me without answering. She’d done this before. Maybe it was her way of saying, You ought to know the answer to that one.

  “I should have known.”

  I watched the woman walk away.

  “She’s not coming here, is she?”

  She shook her head and said, “No.”

  I made a few more calls to places such as the historical society in Vancouver before walking outside. It was beginning to appear that information regarding the thirties wasn’t easy to come by. I felt like the only news from that era was Bonnie Singleton and her death. I learned that most of the farms I’d heard about were dairy farms. Someone told me there were something like thirty-six dairy farms in the area in the thirties.

  Deciding I needed some fresh air and exercise, I walked down the path to find Pete and Kimberly.

  “Anything yet?” I approached them with hope.

  “Nope.” Pete stopped and wiped sweat from his forehead and neck. “It’s beginning to look hopeless, but we’ll search until lunchtime.”

  Kimberly stopped and took a swig from her water bottle. “I’ve found a few coins and old tin cans, but that’s about all. Actually, I only found one coin. A dime.”

  I smiled at her. “At least you’re having a good time, right?”

  “Maybe. I think I liked researching the old bank robberies better, though.”

  “I hope you’ll keep at it. I have to keep an appointment in town at one. When I get back I’ll take over, if you two are still at it.”

  I turned to Pete.

  “Anymore bank robbery money?”

  He grinned. “Not yet, but if there aren’t any coins included in the bundles, Sam and Sasha won’t have any luck. Metal detector. Remember?”

  “I know. One can always hope, though. The sisters need to research the money they’ve found to see if there’s any value to it, too.”

  “I don’t think anyone has thought about it, but they should probably make a police report.” Pete glanced at Kimberly, but quickly looked away.

  “Do we have to report it?” she asked.

  “I can’t make you, but it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Pete, can’t they research it first? I mean, if it’s from a bank robbery, it was a crime that was committed, probably, in the eighteen hundreds. Let them have some fun with it. Besides, it’s on Bea’s property. She must have some kind of claim to it.”

  He scratched his chin before grinning at Kimberly. “Sure. Research as much as you want to. One way or another, I’m sure it will end up in your aunt’s possession.”

  We heard Bea yell from off in the distance. “LUNCH IS READY.”

  Turning, we headed back toward the house, meeting Sam and Sasha where the two paths intersected.

  Sam and Pete walked together.

  “Anything?” Sam asked.

  “No. You?”

  “No.”

  Men of few words.

  “Find anything on the bank robbery?” Pete asked.

  “Maybe. There was a robbery in the late eighteen hundreds involving two robbers. It was well-planned and they got away, but the loot was never found.”

  “Sounds like a possibility.”

  “It does.”

  End of conversation.

  “Men.” Sa
sha shook her head.

  Kimberly made a face, and I laughed.

  “They say women talk a lot more than men. This is a good example. Pete’s more outgoing when it’s just the two of us.”

  “So is Sam.” Sasha closed her eyes briefly before opening them to stare at the back of her fiancé’s head.

  “What happened to the booty?” I asked.

  Kimberly did a skip-step and fell in beside me. “We gave it to Aunt Beatrice to keep while we do our research.”

  After lunch Pete and the others went back to work, and I headed for Jack Fisher’s office. I took the photo album with me.

  He was waiting for me.

  “Mrs. Goldberg? Come into my office. I believe we have a lot to discuss.”

  He showed me into his office and offered me a chair.

  “You sound like you have an idea of why I’m here.”

  “You’d be surprised by how much I know. You’re here about Bonnie Singleton and my resemblance to Martin Cook. Correct?”

  I tapped the photo album. “If Martin Cook is the man in these photos, then yes. You bear an uncanny resemblance to him.”

  He smiled. “There’s a reason for that. I believe he’s my grandfather, and I also believe that Bonnie was my grandmother. I’ve done a lot of research over the years.”

  “You aren’t originally from Battle Ground, are you?” I asked. “How did you end up here?”

  He didn’t seem to mind answering my questions. “I’ll give you the nutshell version. I visited here after discovering there was a Brad Singleton living here while doing my research, and fell in love with the town. I had no family left elsewhere, so here I am. As it turns out, Brad isn’t related.”

  I fully understood loving the town. “I hear it rains a lot. Does that bother you?”

  “Sometimes, but let’s not make small talk. You’re trying to solve Bonnie’s murder and I have at least a little information to add to what you already know.”

  “How do you know what I’m doing?”

  “Small town.”

  “But you’re not a local, and don’t small towns usually keep things close to the vest on most things?”

  “I can tell you two things. My clients are all local, and I get along well with them. Secondly, my secretary is a local and she tells me everything.”

  “Ah.”

  He reached his hand across the desk. “Would you mind if I look at the pictures?”

  I handed him the album. “On the assumption you’d be interested, I put a yellow sticky in the book where the pictures of Martin begin.”

  He studied the photos of Bonnie and Martin before turning back to the beginning and look at all of the entries. He smiled. “I haven’t seen too many candid photos of my grandmother.”

  “What makes you so sure she’s your grandmother?”

  He handed the album back to me. “Did you know that she disappeared for about six months after my father joined the military?”

  “Someone mentioned that to me, yes.”

  “After my father’s parents passed away, he found adoption records and passed them on to me. The papers stated that his mother was Flossie Tanner. Flossie Tanner was the name of a character Bonnie played in a movie. The father’s name was also rather transparent once I started digging for information. She listed him as Marty Cookson rather than Martin Cook. Honestly? I don’t think she ever told Martin that she was pregnant with his child. When he became a civilian again, Bonnie was dead. He moved to Los Angeles and never looked back, from what I can tell.”

  “A few things are starting to add up. Maybe it has nothing to do with her death, but it sheds some new light on her life. Pregnancy without benefit of marriage was a scandal in the thirties.”

  “Yes, it was. My father passed away a few years ago. When I shared the information I was finding with him, he was heartbroken. He said he wished he could have known his real parents and he was devastated to realize that his mother had been murdered.”

  “While this is interesting, I’m not sure this background had anything to do with her death. Tell me. Why was your father heartbroken, as you put it?”

  “His adoptive parents weren’t, shall we say, top drawer people. Oh, they treated him well enough, but they weren’t loving people. In truth, they couldn’t have children and they wanted to feel like they belonged since all of their friends had kids. My father was cared for, but not loved.”

  Jack was being much more open with me than I’d expected.

  “So, Mrs. Goldberg – “

  “Please, call me Sandi.”

  “So, Sandi, if you run across more information, will you please keep me apprised of what you find?”

  I thought for a moment. “You know, now that I think about it I also have a wooden box with some papers in it. I haven’t gone through it yet, but I will over the next few days. If I find anything pertinent to your research, I’ll let you know.”

  The wooden box. I’d almost forgotten about it.

  It was time to see if it held any secrets.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jack glanced at his watch. “I have a client due any minute. Can we talk again before you leave town?”

  “Certainly. You have my number. Let me know when you’re available.”

  His secretary was sitting at her desk when I left. She must have been at lunch when I arrived. She stopped typing and smiled.

  “Bye, Mrs. Goldberg.”

  She’d known I was coming in and apparently wanted Jack to have some privacy while we talked. Thoughtful woman.

  I glanced at her nameplate. “Bye, Stephanie. Have a good afternoon.”

  “You, too.”

  I dug in my purse for my keys, and when I looked up I noticed a piece of paper stuck under my windshield wiper. I plucked it off the car, figuring it was some kind of advertisement.

  I was wrong.

  “Old crimes can become new crimes. Watch your step and don’t tread on the wrong toes.” The handwriting looked like the writer might be a bit shaky.

  Well! My first threat since coming to town. As much as I disliked it, I’d been threatened in the past. Consequently, my heart didn’t start pounding.

  “A day in the life of a private eye.” I spoke aloud and shook my head in disgust.

  Glancing around, I saw a woman standing on the sidewalk punching a number into her cell phone.

  “Excuse me, but did you happen to see anyone standing near my car?”

  I startled her and she turned to me quickly. “Oh. I didn’t see you there. No. I just came out of the store.” She pointed at a small building. It was an herbal health store.

  “Thanks.” I waved at her and climbed into the car, taking care to look up and down the street. Don’t tread on the wrong toes? That sounded old-fashioned to me. No suspicious characters were in sight. What did I expect? Some old guy with a cane and wearing a hoodie and sunglasses watching to see how I’d react?

  I drove back to the B&B thinking about the note. How on earth could I be getting close enough to warrant a threat? I hardly knew anything yet.

  By the time I reached my destination, a mere drive of less than five minutes, I was angry. We were working on a very old crime. There was no need to leave me a cryptic note.

  Pete was resting on the front porch when I pulled up. He stood and walked to the car to meet me.

  He opened my door. “Since we have to pick up Stan and Felicity, I thought I’d stop working and have my quiet time, as you like to call it.”

  “I could use some quiet time, too.” I shoved the note into his hand and stomped up the steps to the porch.

  Glancing back I saw him start to crumple the piece of paper, but having second thoughts he folded it and stuck it in his pocket.

  He climbed the steps and we sat down next to each other. “We can’t seem to get away from crazies even when we’re on our honeymoon.”

  “You’ve got that right.” I was still angry. “The note just adds another degree of difficulty for us. Why on earth would s
omeone leave a threat like that? Doesn’t it make sense that whoever killed Bonnie is probably dead by now?”

  “It does.” Pete knew me well and he wasn’t going to say much until I calmed down.

  Bea walked out to the porch with a tray bearing a pitcher of iced tea and glasses.

  “Sit,” I said.

  She did. “What’s up?” She sounded tentative, probably noticing the ticked off look on my face.

  “Show her, Pete.”

  He pulled the note out of his pocket and handed it to her.

  “Oh. This isn’t good. Hmm. Maybe you shouldn’t be working on Bonnie’s murder. Maybe I opened a can of worms.”

  “Ha! Now I’m more motivated than ever to solve the crime.” I began to calm down when I realized the next logical step would be to stand up and stamp my foot like a bratty little child. My jaws unclenched and my facial muscles relaxed a little.

  “We need a plan.” Pete stroked his upper lip, as though he had a mustache – which he didn’t.

  “My plan is to go to the library tomorrow and check out the microfilms from the thirties. Maybe there’s something in the articles that’s related to what happened and never caught anyone’s attention. Sometimes it simply takes a fresh perspective. Felicity can go with me.”

  Pete nodded. “Stan can stay with me. We’ve been so intent on finding the murder weapon that we’ve let other things disappear from the radar. Sam and the sisters can keep looking for the weapon while Stan and I look at some other angles. I know the crime happened a long time ago, but I’d still like to search the room where Singleton was murdered.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Bea asked.

  “No. You just get ready for your guests. When are they coming in?” I wanted as much time as possible to work without the interruptions of outsiders.

  “They’re all arriving over the weekend. I need to run to the store to stock up on food tomorrow. I wanted to wait so everything would be fresh.”

  Pete glanced at his watch. “We’d better start thinking about driving into Portland to pick up Stan and Felicity. If we leave soon, we can grab a bite to eat on the way.”

  “I’m going upstairs and bring down that wooden box I bought at the antique store. It had papers in it and I want to see if there’s anything of importance. I can go through them while you drive.” I left Bea sitting on the porch while Pete followed me upstairs.