“He belongs to a friend of mine and she’s so upset he was lost.”
“Bull!” El shouted. “I found him wandering on US 23 and he didn’t have any identification.”
“Give Eleanor back the dog. We’re not about to let you take the dog without proof. For all we know you’re stealing him for yourself.”
“Hah,” Barry said. “Poor Kimberly has been crying her eyes out over the loss of her dog.”
“Kimberly?”
“Yes, Kimberly Steele. She works for Jeremy Preston back in Redwater and she’s pregnant. ” Weenie ran off when she stopped at a roadside bathroom.”
Since there wasn’t a roadside bathroom anywhere close by it made me think this was a farfetched story, but Mr. Tinkles didn’t seem to mind that Mrs. Barry held him. “I see. Is Miss Steele here?”
“No, but she’s they’re staying at Days Inn.”
“I see. Well, hand the dog over and bring Miss Steele to my camper. Then we can sort this all out.”
Mrs. Barry narrowed her eyes, but she set Mr. Tinkles down and El scooped him up. With her nose held high, El strode away. I gave Mrs. Barry instructions on how to find my Winnebago and left.
Once I was back at my camper, it was to find Mr. Tinkles on a chain and Eleanor sitting dejected at the picnic table. “Eleanor,” I began. “Are you sure Mr. Tinkles didn’t have a collar on with identification?”
After a lengthy pause, she admitted, “He had a collar on with the name, Weenie, and the owners name, but when I tried calling the number, it was disconnected. I didn’t see no harm in claiming the dog.” Tears trickled down her full cheeks. “I really love that dog.”
“I know you do, El, and I’m so sorry, but this Kimberly person better show up or I’m not handing the dog over to anybody,” I promised.
An hour later, a SUV pulled into the drive and the male driver ran to the passenger side and helped a very pregnant woman out. She had long blonde hair and was dressed all in pink, sky-high heels on her feet.
Mr. Tinkles yapped upon seeing her and I knew in that instant that the dog belonged to her. Eleanor loosed the chain and handed it to the woman. “Oh thank you so much,” she gushed. “I had lost all hope that I’d ever see Weenie again.”
I stared at the woman’s blue eyes and asked, “So you’re Kimberly Steele?”
“Yes,” she shook my hand. “Did you find my dog?”
I motioned to El, “No, my friend Eleanor Mason did.”
El wiped at the tears that formed. “He’s such a great dog. I tried to call the contact number, but it was disconnected.”
“I just got married.”
“In record time,” I spouted. “Good to know a man steps up to his responsibilities.”
Kimberly smiled, revealing straight, perfect teeth. “The baby isn’t his,” she admitted. “But we fell in love and got married.”
“Oh, even better, a modern romance.”
“This is my husband, Jeremy Preston. He’s a lawyer.”
I raised a brow. “I think Mrs. Barry told me you worked for him.”
“I did before we married, but I got a modeling gig for a lotion line. You might have heard about it. Pretty and Pregnant.”
“No, new one on me, but then again I don’t shop for such products. My granddaughter is pregnant though. I should tell her about it.”
“Oh really? How sweet. Jeremy, be a dear and fetch one of the starter sets for this kind woman’s granddaughter,” Kimberly instructed her husband.
He returned with a gift bag that was quite heavy and contained lotion and body wash in a quite pleasant vanilla scent. “Thanks for the free product.”
“It’s the least I can do since you two took such good care of my pooch. Eleanor, I don’t know what else to say. I can see you’re upset, but Weenie means so much to me. Maybe you could keep him until I leave town.”
“I-I’d love that,” El gushed, taking the chain back from Kimberly. “I promise this time to make sure he doesn’t escape.”
“Good idea. Weenie really likes to run off the chain, but you just can’t trust him. One of the reasons he got away from me.”
“I’d be happy to pay you for your trouble,” Jeremy said.
“Not at all. It would be my pleasure,” El said. “Do you know Mrs. Barry, then?”
“Yes, she’s a bit rough on the edges, but quite nice when you get to know her,” Kimberly said with a smile. “Her son is running for sheriff here.”
My lips formed into a line. “I know, but we like the current sheriff just fine.”
“I imagine you do, but Clay is a good man in his own way.”
“Is he now? I heard word that he’s having an affair.”
“He’s not even married.”
Shucks, no luck with finding dirt on him. “Why isn’t he running for office in Redwater?”
“I’m not sure, but not many people would vote for him there, not with Mrs. Barry’s many lawsuits.”
“She’s filed a suit against just about everyone in Redwater,” Jeremy added. “I sure don’t mind the business, but I’m not much for frivolous lawsuits.”
“Frivolous, you say?”
“Yes, neighbor complaints for the most part,” Kimberly informed us.
We said our goodbyes and Kimberly and Jeremy left, leaving El and I to plot at the picnic table. “So, Clay is single and his mother is sue happy,” I mused. “It sounds like he might be trouble for East Tawas.”
“Or his mother might be , . ” El added.
“I wonder if it’s possible to dig some dirt up?”
“Maybe he’s carousing here in East Tawas already?”
“Only one way to find out, but we have our hands full with this case.”
“True, Aggie, and I’m about beat for the day. Maybe we should wait until tomorrow to plot further.”
“Good idea.” I ran El and Mr. Tinkles home. It was hard to refer him as Weenie when Mr. Tinkles fit so much better, thinking back to when the blasted dog peed on me.
When I got home I popped in a frozen dinner, ate and retired, hoping that maybe the coroner’s report would come back tomorrow.
Chapter T welve hirteen
Instead of waking up to the sun shining in my face, I woke up to the sound of rain pounding on the tin roof with a pling… pling… pling. I padded to the kitchen and brewed coffee, just as Martha stretched. “You sure read my mind,” she said. “Although this is perfect sleeping weather.”
I nodded and poured two cups of coffee when it was ready, pouring vanilla creamer in mine. We sat opposite each other at the table. As I slowly stirred my cup I said, “I’m gonna have to go over to El’s place today. I’m gonna take my laptop.”
“You finally bought a computer?” Martha grinned. “It’s about time.”
“We were going to search on social media sites for information about Raul. I heard Facebook might be a good place to start.”
“You’ll have to set up a profile first. Do you have an email yet?”
I shook my head. “What’s an email?”
“I’m gonna need another cup of coffee first, but I’ll help you out.”
Martha spent the next two hours helping me set up an email and Facebook account. Next on the list was Twitter, but my eyes widened when Martha told me I was allowed only 140 characters on Twitter. “140 characters? How dumb is that?” I watched in wonder as the feed moved so fast. “How would anyone read any of those posts when they move so fast?” I asked Martha.
“Who knows, but you can check out tweets from celebrities too.”
I checked out Betty’s White’s tweets, but all she tweeted was about her shows Off Their Rockers and Hot in Cleveland. “Why is everyone using the number sign?”
“It’s called a hashtag and I’d be here all day trying to explain what it means, Mom.”
Unimpressed, I packed up my laptop and took Martha’s station wagon to Eleanor’s house. I used my key when I found that the door was locked. Eleanor was in the kitchen cooking bacon. I br
eathed deeply as the aroma of bacon wafted toward me. “How did you know I was hungry?”
“Lucky guess.” She eyed my computer bag. “What you got there, Aggie?”
“Oh it’s nothing, just my computer. Martha helped me set up an email address, Twitter, and Facebook page. With any luck Raul had accounts on social media sites.”
“What about the packet you found in the car yesterday?”
“I forgot all about that.” I searched in my purse and pulled the packet out. Unlike our last case this one didn’t contain cash, but a document. “It’s a deed belonging to Raul Perez of a lakefront property with a beneficiary listed.”
“Who’s the beneficiary?”
“Maria Sanchez. I wonder if she’s the woman found at the beach dead?”
“Who is this Maria exactly, I wonder?” El said as she piled my plate with bacon and then moved to fill her own. “A relative? Girlfriend?”
“Maybe we can find out on Twitter or Facebook. Peterson said that might be a good place to start.” I pulled the laptop from the bag and opened it on the dining room table. Eleanor gave me the password to access her wireless Internet. Once I was online, I went to my email and checked to see if I had any mail. All I had was a welcome message from Google with a tutorial that I skimmed through. It also notified me that I had three friend requests. I logged in to Facebook, incorrectly keying in the password a few times, but I finally had it up. My eyes widened when I saw an unflattering picture of myself. Did I really look that old? My timeline was a picture of an East Tawas sunset. I’d really have to talk to Martha later about finding a better picture of me to post.
“Wow,” El said. “This is so cool.”
“Do kids say that anymore?”
“Not sure, but I do. This is so exciting. Go to the home page.”
There wasn’t much on there since I had no friends. That was, until I accepted the friend requests. Within seconds I was able to see posts, one from Martha, who was one of the requests. Her post read, “Helped my elderly mom set up a Facebook. Consider this a warning!”
Eleanor giggled. “What did you expect?”
I also frowned at the ads that scrolled down, weight loss aids. How on earth did these people know I had packed on a few? And just what in the hell did LOL mean? Out of curiosity I typed in my granddaughter Sophia’s name. Up came her page with a way too sexy photo of her. Why on earth would she post such a photo showing cleavage? There was also a post that read, “Gramms needs to come to reality. I’m not getting married just because I’m pregnant.” Why on earth would Sophia post something so personal on a social networking site? Why, any kind of stranger or loon could read it. I swallowed hard and typed in ‘Raul Perez’. His page came up with a picture that didn’t look all that much like him, but it was taken at the house where he lived. His last post was three days ago and it read, “I’m not a fool and if you think I am, you’re mistaken. I’m in control of the situation.”
“What’s that suppose to mean?” El asked. “It sounds like a coded message of sorts. Check to see if he’s friends with Maria Sanchez. Check her info page.”
I gave El a sharp look. “How on earth do you know this much about Facebook?”
“I’m not an old fuddy duddy like you, Aggie. I’m hip with the times.” She giggled. “Actually, I went to the library with Elsie. Did you know she’s on Facebook?”
I shook my head. “Why on earth would she be on there?”
“Knowing her, so she could be snoopy. Just watch what you post is all I’m saying.”
Back to task, I went to Maria’s page. Her profile picture consisted of a photo of her in a red string bikini on a beach that looked to be somewhere tropical. Her last post, “Things are getting weird here in Michigan. I’m outta here.”
“She sounds rattled,” El said. “I wonder if she posted that after Raul died?”
“It sure looks like it. We have two strange posts, both by people who might have been murdered.”
“Look, Aggie. We don’t know that yet, unless Peterson is willing to dish. Maybe since we have a name he’d tell us if she was the one or not.”
“Or he might have a reaction.”
“True. He has to tell us something.” I checked both Raul’s and Maria’s friend lists to see if any of them were friends of both Raul and Maria’s. I found one that resembled the man we saw at Fuzzy’s. “Harry Hunan,” I said out loud. “Doesn’t seem Hispanic to me.”
“Who says he is?” El asked. “Just because Raul was from Mexico doesn’t mean this man is.”
“You’re right, but if he’s not, then what is the connection between the two of them?”
“I’m not sure, but with both Raul and Maria dead, if she’s the woman at the beach that is, who takes possession of the property?”
“I’m not sure, but it sounds like a good place to start. We need to check out the property. Who knows, maybe the suspect is there right now,” I suggested. I checked Harry’s Facebook profile, but he hadn’t posted in over a month. There was something eerie about his plastered-on smile full of sparkly teeth that bothered me.
I Googled how to do a screen shot and followed the directions, and did a screen shot of both Raul’s and Maria’s friends, just in case some of them decided to un-friend either of them. I was beginning to sound like an ole Facebook pro now. I could see how this was a useful tool.
I went to the board and added Maria’s name to the victim list and Harry Hunan’s name on the suspect list, with a double question mark under the heading motive. “Not sure if this Harry has a motive or not.”
“Or if that’s even his real name,” Eleanor added.
“I have to agree with you there.” I called Sheriff Peterson and he agreed to meet me at the pier. Eleanor left Mr. Tinkles with Martha on the way, convincing her to watch the mutt. She happily agreed when she found out we had planned to be gone most of the day.
When we got to the pier, it was relatively vacant. It was sprinkling now, but not bad enough that I couldn’t go through with the meeting. I greeted the sheriff. “Hello Peterson.”
He nodded, making sure that nobody was nearby. “What do you want?”
“Information. All you have to do is nod yes or no and we’ll be gone.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
“Is Maria Sanchez the woman you found dead at the beach?”
Peterson stiffened and after a few moments, he nodded. I moved to leave and he asked, “How did you find her name?”
“Facebook,” I said. “Thanks for giving me that tip, but I guess you could follow up the same tips.”
“I could if I was on the case that is, but the coroner came back with his report. According to him, Raul’s death might have been accidental.”
“Which means what exactly?”
“That there isn’t proof enough to say that he was murdered.”
“How did you find that out if you’re not on the case?”
“He called me. Don’t worry, I’m being very careful.”
“I see. Do you want us to stop investigating then?”
“No, I still think you need to follow it through, unless you agree with the coroner.”
“I don’t,” I said as I turned to leave. “But at least speculation about your father will stop.”
“You should know better than that, Agnes. He’s still going to have to answer for his theft of Raul’s credit card.”
“Has he been arrested yet?”
“No, but I’m expecting it to happen anytime.”
Once we were back in the car El asked, “Why are we still on the case? Raul’s death was an accident.”
“All that means is that there wasn’t any evidence that Raul’s death was n’t an accident. I think someone pushed him down the stairs.”
“How on earth do you plan to prove that?”
“I’m not sure yet. I sure hope the coroner comes back with the report about Maria’s cause of death.”
“What if it comes back as a drowning?”
; “We’ve had our backs up against a wall before, Eleanor.” I reminded her.
“That’s what I’m worried about. I just don’t want to be on the hot seat again. All that this snooping in the past has done is put us in harm’s way.”
“Since when has that bothered you?”
“It doesn’t, but I have a bad feeling that I can’t shake. If Raul and Maria were murdered, that tells me one thing.”
“Which is?”
“That the killer is good at murdering people and making it look like an accident.”
“Don’t worry, El. We’ll be extra careful, but we need to find this Harry Hunan.” I paused for a moment and then added,
“I’m not so sure where he is right now, but it wouldn’t hurt checking out the house I found the deed for.”
“Lead on, fearless leader.”
“El, are you finally agreeing I’m in charge?”
“Not a chance,” she giggled.
Chapter Thirteen Fourteen
I followed the fork in the road and drove up Tawas Beach Road where, five hundred feet from the Tawas Point State Park, I found the address. I knew in an instant this was lake front property and I double-checked the address to be certain I was at the right place. Trees were tightly packed on either side of the gravel drive that turned paved as I cleared the line of maples and oaks. El emitted a sound between a sigh and gasp. “Surely this can’t be the right place.”
I gazed in wonder at the two-story mansion before us. The brick home sported a detached garage, and when we scrambled from the car, a gazebo situated near Lake Huron was also visible. “How on earth could Raul afford a place like this?”
Eleanor followed a stepping stone pathway that ran between the house and garage. “Or afford those boats.”
Two red Baja speedboats were tied to the dock. I swallowed hard. “I just don’t understand.”
“Think, Aggie. A man in a Hummer was seen talking to Raul, and now it turns out he owns this mansion. Raul’s He’s also from Mexico so—”
“I hope you’re not suggesting Raul was a drug trafficker.”
“It adds up.”
“No it doesn’t. He was Hal’s companion and no man owning a mansion like this would be living in squalor.”
Madison Johns - Agnes Barton 04 - Trouble in Tawas Page 10
