by Maggie Pill
“Tell me what’s going on,” Dina demanded once the wriggling stopped and our captive contented herself with muttering curse words.
“You just saved my life.”
She nodded. “I thought you were in trouble.” Her expression turned bleak. “This has something to do with my father, doesn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Taking off the scarf she wore, Dina tied one end tightly around Gretchen’s wrist while I held it still. “I really was coming to thank you. Then I saw her at your door.” Together we forced Gretchen onto her stomach and twisted her hands behind her so Dina could tie the second wrist to the first. Gretchen had gone silent, though she glared at us over her shoulder. “I couldn’t figure out why she’d be going to your room, but she’s one of Honny’s creatures, and after this morning I started wondering what he was up to. By listening at the door, I heard enough to conclude you needed help.”
“I certainly did,” I agreed. “Now if you’ll lend me your phone, it’s time we called the police.”
Chapter Forty-two
Barb
I woke again to the sound of voices—two this time. I thought I was at home, in my bedroom, and my father was talking downstairs. He seemed worried about me. Will I have to miss school? Make-up work was the worst.
“I thought you’d take care of my girl,” Dad was saying.
Was the doctor here—at the house? Or was I in the hospital?
I really did feel terrible. It might have helped to move to a more comfortable position, but I couldn’t make my limbs obey. Raising my head a little, I tried to open my eyes.
That made everything hurt worse.
“I did what I thought was right,” another man said.
“You’re up to something,” Dad said. Only it wasn’t Dad. This voice was harder, harsher. I didn’t know him. I tried to lift my head and look, but again, it hurt too much.
“You gotta believe me—” the second man began.
“I believed you for too long,” the kind-of-like-Dad man interrupted. “Last night after I got her message, I did some investigating. You’re trying to screw me, Honey.” Did he just call another man “Honey”?
“That’s not true.” The tone shifted from conciliatory to gloating. “I did screw you.” A sound followed that resembled a fist smacked twice into a palm. Someone grunted in surprise. No one spoke again. More sounds followed, soft grunts of exertion and a splash as something hit water.
Water? That meant I was neither at home on the farm nor in a hospital.
An image of a dog came to mind. It wasn’t the old collie we’d had on the farm, but a squat, homely mutt with intelligent eyes who’d tried to tell me something. Animals sense things people don’t, he seemed to say. You should have paid better attention to my warning.
It was too much to think about, and I surrendered again to the state of not thinking.
Chapter Forty-three
Faye
Using Dina’s phone, I called 9-1-1 and explained there was an emergency at St. Millicent’s Inn. Leaving Dina to guard Gretchen, I went down to meet the police when they arrived. I was cautious, fearing I’d run into Bill or Ted lurking somewhere, ready to do me harm.
Had they already killed my sisters? I had to believe I still had time to save them.
Through the wide windows of the front wall, I saw that most of the retreat guests were either gone or in the parking lot, preparing for departure. The only person in the common area was Angel, who sensed immediately that something was wrong. “Are you all right, dear?”
“There’s been at least one murder,” I told her. “I’ve called the police. Dina Engel has one of the killers under guard in my room.”
Her eyes and mouth rounded in surprise, and she stuttered, “Wh-wh-wh-?” I went on, eager to get outside, but I heard her say as I went, “There can’t be any of our ladies involved. We’re a completely non-violent group.”
Leaving the cool inn for the hot sidewalk, I listened for sirens. What I heard instead was the troubled sound of an engine in dire need of a tune-up. It was coming from behind the inn, and as I turned, relief flooded my heart at an unexpected—slightly unbelievable—sight.
Across the parking lot came an old Farmall tractor, its chugging motion signaling sediment in the gas. Retta was in the driver’s seat, her hands tight on the wheel. Under her sat Bill, his forehead streaked with blood. He wore a faint grin, and he held tightly to Retta’s waist, apparently to keep himself upright.
She waved when she saw me, stopped the machine with an abrupt jerk, and shut off the engine. The silence was momentarily deafening.
“Have you seen Barbara Ann?” she called.
“I was hoping she was with you.”
A look of foreboding crossed her face as she dismounted, leaving Bill where he was. He listed to one side without her to steady him, but Retta pinched his elbow and he rallied somewhat, leaning his chin against the steering wheel for balance.
Retta looked as un-Retta-like as I’d ever seen her: dirty clothes, unkempt hair, and a grimy face that revealed tracks of tears. We hurried to each other and hugged for a long time. “Barb found me, but then that awful Ted came along,” she said in my ear. “I don’t know what happened after that.” Gretchen’s taunt came to mind. One of my sisters had drowned, she said, the other had been strangled.
Sirens sounded then, and we turned to see two county cars and an ambulance turning into the drive.
Retta met the EMTs and led them to where Bill waited, still half out of it. While she explained what had happened to him, I stepped forward to identify myself to the deputies. “You have to arrange a search,” I told them. “Our other sister is missing.”
Immediately one deputy took out his phone and relayed the information I provided: when I’d last seen Barb, where she might have gone, and her physical description. When he ended the call he said, “We’ll have help up here in no time, ma’am. Now can you give me a better idea of what’s going on?”
“First we should go relieve Ms. Engel of her prisoner.” Explaining as we went, I led him and another deputy upstairs to my hotel room. There they took charge of a sulky Gretchen, replacing Dina’s scarf with handcuffs before marching her out of the inn between them. Dina and I trailed behind them like bridal attendants who don’t quite know what comes next.
Once Gretchen was locked in the back seat of a county car, the deputy in charge, whose name was Barrett, took out his note pad. “I’d like to get a few things on record now, and we’ll fill in the details later.”
I repeated my plea for a search, and he assured me it was being organized. “We’ll find your sister, but I need to know what’s going on here. You said that woman tried to kill you?”
“Apparently she’s part of a group that brought a bunch of drugs up here to sell.”
That caught Deputy Barrett’s interest. “Can we start at the beginning?”
Dina started an account, and I soon learned she’d pumped information out of Gretchen while they were alone upstairs. “Honny Bellows used my show as cover for a drug sale.”
“He had the drugs hidden in the fashion show stuff?” I asked.
“Exactly.” Dina turned to Barrett, her smile grim. “My father assigned Honny to help me. He kept making changes to my plans, and he said my father ordered them. Really, he was doing it to keep me distracted.”
It was interesting to me that Engel had become “my father” sometime in the last few hours.
“Last night I called home to hash things out. I got no answer, so I left a message explaining how upset I was about the way my father had chipped away at my success.” She took out her phone and showed it to the deputy. “After the show today, I saw that I had a text from him. He had no idea what I was talking about.”
“He’s on his way up here to look into it,” Barrett said as he scanned the message. He frowned. “This was sent ten hours ago. He should be here by now.”
I was struggling to keep up. “Your father didn’t kno
w about the canceled contract with the modeling agency?”
“Or the shoes or the lack of help with setup,” Dina replied. “It was all Honny’s doing.” Frowning, she added, “I don’t doubt he pocketed the difference between what Roger okayed and what he actually paid.”
I’d been right to think Dina’s problems were meant to be distractions, but wrong about who’d planned them.
“The guy doesn’t sound very trustworthy,” Barrett commented.
Dina looked down at her hands. “I blamed my father for so many things, and I was ready to believe the worst…” After a moment she cleared her throat and returned to facts. “Honny disappeared this morning, but I had the show to do. Again he blamed my father, and I accepted that as the truth, at least until I saw that message.”
“Actually, Honny was finalizing a deal he’d made without Mr. Engel’s knowledge.” I was catching on.
Barrett gestured at Gretchen. “Why did she try to harm Mrs. Burner?”
“Murder is the word.” Dina smiled grimly. “Faye, she says you saw them kill someone.”
Barrett looked at me. “Is that right?”
“Well, close. We came along just afterward. The killer wanted my sister and me dead so we couldn’t describe him to the police.”
“But they couldn’t afford a fuss until the deal was made, so they forced Faye to pretend things were okay by holding her sister hostage.” Dina glanced at Gretchen. “She told me everything once I reminded her there are worse things than going to jail.”
Barrett didn’t pick up on that, but I did. Whatever Dina wanted to believe about her father, she sensed how ruthless he could be. She’d threatened Gretchen with his wrath, and Gretchen had spilled her guts.
Our poor deputy was barely keeping up. “So there are two criminals at large in the area,” he said, glancing around the property. “One of them killed someone, and they both are selling drugs.”
“Yes,” Dina said. “Troy is the killer, but I don’t know his last name. He’s Gretchen’s boyfriend, and he’s been up here for several days, setting things up for Honny. They were waiting for their buyer to get the money together, which she did this morning.”
“Troy.” We described him, and Barrett wrote it down. “And who’s that?” He gestured at Bill, who was being loaded into the ambulance.
Dina shrugged. “I don’t know that guy.”
“He was low-level help,” I supplied. “I don’t think he knew he was into something this big.”
Shifting his feet, Barrett wrote for some time before saying, “And these people brought illegal drugs to Leelanau County.”
“Cocaine, and a lot of it,” Dina supplied. “It was hidden in a platform we used for a runway, which was stored with my equipment.” She turned to me, adding, “When I went up to my room to change for the show, Gretchen and Troy took the drugs out and hid them in the van, but it was so close to show time when they got done they couldn’t put the platform back inside without being seen.”
“Which is why Dail and Gail found it outside the kitchen door.”
Barrett wasn’t following our sidebar conversation, and he prompted, “The drug deal?”
Dina nodded. “Troy arranged it with some local woman who attended the retreat like a regular guest. After they did whatever maneuvering it takes for one criminal to trust another, they agreed to exchange the drugs for cash while everyone was inside watching the show.”
“Not a bad idea,” Barrett acknowledged. “Who’d suspect a drug deal at an event like this?”
Retta joined us, and I introduced her to Dina and Barrett, who asked, “Any idea where Honny Bellows and Troy Whoever are now?”
“Gretchen says Troy had some things to clear up,” Dina replied.
“Like killing me and Bill.” Retta rolled her eyes. “That didn’t go so well.”
“Honny’s supposed to meet Gretchen and Troy in Traverse City this afternoon, but she didn’t know exactly where.”
“Maybe the models know something,” I suggested.
Barrett called to another officer. “Weisnewski, talk to those women over by the limo and see what they know about where Honny Bellows might be.” Demonstrating wisdom beyond his years he added, “Take Ms. Engel along with you. They’ll tell her things they won’t tell you.”
Chapter Forty-four
Retta
The Leelanau County sheriff’s men took charge of the woman Faye identified as Gretchen. The EMTs helped poor Bill into the ambulance, but I’m not sure he understood he was under arrest. The officers proceeded on the assumption he might be faking nuttiness in order to escape. I could have told them Bill (or Cray, as I now knew him) was a little nutty to begin with, but I supposed it didn’t matter. Either way, he was in a lot of trouble.
I managed to convince a young EMT that I was fine despite a slightly black eye from when Ted stopped my escape. I answered questions about who was the President and what year it was. When they let me go, I went to where Faye was talking to the deputy in charge. Walking away from them with a female deputy was a woman I soon learned was Dina Engel.
“I think she’s telling the truth as she knows it,” Faye was saying as I approached. To me she said, “Deputy Barrett is trying to figure out if Dina is part of whatever went on here. Did you hear Bill or Ted say anything that would indicate she is?”
When I shook my head Faye said, “I think Dina came here to put on a fashion show. I thought at first her father was using the event to cover a drug sale, but now it appears the deal was arranged by Dina’s assistant, Honny Bellows.”
“He stole the drugs from his boss? He’s either very brave or very dumb.” Apparently Faye had told the deputy who Roger Engel was.
“Gretchen claimed they’d have a million dollars and a head start.”
“A million?” Barrett whistled softly. “I can only think of three people around here who could afford a buy that big.” Rolling his shoulders he added, “Lots of times we know who the dealers are, but we can’t prove it.”
“From what I’ve read, that’s exactly how Engel has stayed in business all these years,” I said. “Who’s your main suspect?”
Barrett got all official. “I can’t say, ma’am. It wouldn’t be professional.”
“In the first place,” I informed him, “we’re private detectives working with the FBI.” He looked slightly impressed but mostly doubtful. “In the second place, a name wouldn’t mean a thing to us. I just wondered if one of the three would be a woman in her fifties.”
He looked surprised. “Well, yes, as a matter of fact. The last time I saw her, she had her hair dyed black on top and purple underneath.”
“She’s here,” Faye said. “I spoke to her yesterday, and I saw her again last night in the common area. Now that I think of it, she might have been waiting for someone.”
After Barrett called down to Traverse City to get a warrant for the arrest of the woman who now had the cocaine, I sketched the scenario, as much for myself as for the others. “Your local drug dealer came on Friday as a retreat guest. The guy who called himself Ted rode up with his girlfriend—her.” I pointed at the girl in the squad car. “They met with the buyer and set things up for Sunday morning. Then Ted saw Agent Auburn, recognized him, and decided he had to be eliminated.”
“If the agent was investigating Engel,” Faye said, “he’d have seen photos of the people who work for him.”
“Right. Now Ted paid Bill—the guy in the ambulance over there—to let him stay at his place to avoid Dina or the models seeing him. His name is Cray, and he works here at St. Millicent’s, so he had keys to the places they needed to get into.”
“Their first problem came when Auburn recognized them,” Faye said. “Their second was that we happened along before they could get rid of the body.”
“Cray wasn’t really in on the murder,” I told the deputy. “He thought he was helping with some minor crime like burglary.”
Barrett wasn’t sympathetic. “But he didn’t flinch when a
federal agent got killed.”
“Well, he did flinch,” I said, but it was a moot point. Cray was in a lot of trouble, and there was nothing I could do to save him.
An EMT approached. “Deputy? We’re ready to transport.”
“Okay,” Barrett replied. Turning to us he said, “Excuse me for a minute. I want to make sure my guy reads the suspect his rights a second time at the hospital, so nobody can say later he was unable to understand them.”
When the ambulance pulled away a few minutes later, a car turned into the drive. A man and a woman sat in the front seat and a second man slumped in the back. I recognized the man I knew as Ted, though he didn’t look nearly as confident as when I’d last seen him. The creases along his mouth were caked with dirt, and he’d turned his shirt inside out in a vain attempt to hide bloodstains there. His appearance made me a little glad and a lot sad. Barbara Ann had certainly put up a fight, and she’d have been pleased to see the swollen bump that indicated her killer’s nose was broken. I hoped he never breathed easily again.
The man and woman were FBI agents, Terry Draco and Tonya Holden, and they’d responded to Barbara’s call for help. “We waited at the meeting place last night, but she didn’t show,” Agent Holden told us when the introductions and badge-flipping were done. “We figured she ran into trouble. Terry dropped me off up here, but things seemed normal. No one I spoke to had ever heard of Barbara Evans. We went to your room, but it was empty. We decided it was best not to announce our presence, since Ms. Evans said Mrs. Stilson was in danger.”
My heart sank a little as she said that. I was okay, but where was Barbara Ann? Holden finished, “I hung out in the hotel, trying to look like a guest.”
