Mad Money Murder

by Leslie Langtry

  "I'm sorry. I can't show it to you. Medical professional courtesy. You understand."

  Yeah—that you made that up just now.

  "Tell Tommy that I sent you." He smiled again. "I'm sure he knows about my connection to Aunt June."

  "I will. Thanks." I got to my feet.

  Pete stood up and held his hand out. I shook it.

  "I hope you don't mind if I ask a personal question, Merry."

  Get ready to lie about my nonexistent relationship with his girlfriend…

  "Did you know your hair is green and white?"

  I didn't miss a beat. "Nothing gets past you, does it?"

  He tapped the side of his nose. "I'm very observant."

  Not observant enough to have noticed it when I got here.

  "Basil offered to do my hair." I chewed my lip. "I really didn't expect him to color it."

  Pete laughed. "Well, that sounds about right." He reached into his wallet, extracting a card that he handed to me. "Call me if you need anything. That's my number."

  This extremely intelligent observer didn't seem to realize that I'd called him to make the appointment.

  "I will! Thanks!"

  Maplethorpe's Funeral Home and Crematory was, like Pete said, just outside of town. And unlike the other buildings that were rotting away on the outside, this one looked like it was brand-new. A tall, white home with large columns, it gave the appearance of Tara from Gone With The Wind.

  A chime went off when I opened the door, and I was immediately greeted by a short, very somber man in a three-piece suit. He bowed deeply.

  "Mrs. Ferguson. I'm so glad you stopped by. Coroner Oroner called," he said without a trace of irony.

  Of course he did. I was getting kind of tired of the network in this place. Everyone knew where I was and where I was going.

  "Thank you. I apologize for not coming sooner. You see, I just found out about"—my voice hitched as if snagged on grief—"Aunt June's death when the urn was delivered."

  Tommy Maplethorpe nodded as if he expected this. "There were no services." He sighed. "I suggested to Mr. Hickenlooper that everyone deserved a farewell, but he said her will was resolute on the matter. Please, do come back to my office where we can talk."

  I felt a surge of excitement thinking it meant he had something to tell me. As we walked through the tastefully dour funeral home, he nodded at a woman about his same age. She nodded back and scurried for the door.

  "My sister," he explained. "I always have someone in the foyer ready to greet anyone who comes by."

  I didn't respond because that practice seemed like an idiotic thing to do. Didn't most people call the funeral home to pick up the deceased? Did people around here just show up with a body? Then again, my experiences in this county over the last couple of days did make that seem less laughable.

  We sat down in a well-appointed office decorated in dove gray.

  I started. "You collected her from her home?"

  "Yes. After Coroner Oroner examined her at the site."

  It took all I had not to giggle.

  "Was there an online guest book?" I asked as somberly as possible.

  "You know…" He frowned. "There must be, because our website creates one when we enter the deceased's name. It never occurred to me to look it up because we weren't having services."

  Tommy typed on his keyboard and turned the monitor away from him, toward me. Then he got to his feet and bowed again. "Please, take your time." And with that, he left.

  Too bad the coroner and sheriff hadn't left me alone with their files.

  I was shocked but not terribly surprised to see only one notice. What about all of her celebrity and society friends? They must not have known. But surely someone in Behold would write something. The print was tiny, and I got up and snagged the keyboard.

  It must be something from Basil. Apart from Pete and the two mystery suitors, he was the only one who seemed to like her.

  I looked behind me to see that the door remained shut. After a few clicks, the screen enlarged. I gasped and hit the print button. The piece of paper couldn't come out of the printer fast enough. Snatching it, I read it again.

  The fraud got what she deserved.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Kelly looked at the printout. "That's pretty horrible."

  "It is." It made me sad to think that this was how she'd be remembered.

  I'd pointed it out to Tommy when he rejoined me. His face had turned beet red, and he'd sputtered apology after apology, promising to remove it. Clearly, unless he was a brilliant actor, he hadn't written it.

  "It doesn't necessarily mean she was murdered," Kelly said. "It could be referring to the fact that, in having those deadly bugs, getting killed by one of them was something she deserved. Although I'm not sure how that makes her a fraud."

  "It feels like a murderer gloating to me. We have the three suitors, who may have killed her out of anger. Then there's Nancy, who was a romantic rival. And the mayor, Nigel, who didn't want her to win the election or to sell her house to develop the property as a resort."

  "You have five suspects, all with motive."

  I agreed. "I think Aunt June was right. I think she had an inkling as to who her killer was."

  Kelly said, "We have to see if there are other notes hidden in the house."

  "Okay!" I was revved up and ready to go. Interviewing the coroner and funeral director had been just what I needed.

  "Tomorrow," Kelly added.

  "Tomorrow? But we need to move on this!"

  My co-leader was unmovable. "We've spent all day in town. The girls have been working on a murder board, and we're making mini pizzas." And with that, she went into the lodge.

  I followed. In the living room area, the girls had giant pieces of paper taped to the walls. There were diagrams of each floor of the house, a map of downtown, and a list of suspects with mug shots of each.

  I leaned in. "Why is Dr. Morgan named Dr. Poopy Face?"

  "It adds to the drama," Betty said. "We gave them camp names."

  Sure enough, Nancy was Purple Underpants, Virgil was Beaver Butt, Coroner Oroner was Dum Dum, and Nigel Hickenlooper was Hickenpooper. I had to admit it, the likenesses were first rate.

  There was a picture of Aunt June lying on her back while a spider the size of a Volkswagen nibbled on her neck. In the next scene, the spider was smooshed by a large boot.

  After a time-out to make our pizzas and put them in the oven, we returned to the murder boards and fleshed out what we already knew. We broke the suspects into two groups: Three Boyfriends and Other—which included Nancy and Nigel.

  It was a pretty fair depiction, aside from the names. The oven timer went off, and we convened in the kitchen to eat our pizzas. Betty's stayed in the oven an extra twenty minutes until it came out resembling a black Frisbee.

  "It's dark out!" Kaitlyn said. "We should do that night hike."

  "But we have the murder board!" Ava pointed toward the living room. "And tomorrow Mrs. Wrath is going in the mud pit!"

  "Okay," Lauren said. "Mud pit in the morning, then."

  "The girls are taking this really well," I said quietly to Kelly as the girls cleaned up and went to bed.

  She sat down on the sofa and stretched. "I think it's the murder board. You know, they're really happy to be part of the investigation. I think they like it more than exploring camp."

  "We need to make it up to them with a night hike to the Indian burial mounds. Tomorrow night. I promise."

  Something woke me up in the night. Slipping out of my sleeping bag, I did a head count. Three girls and two leaders. Betty and Lauren were gone.

  I knew it! I knew our luck would run out. Very quietly, I woke Kelly and told her what had happened.

  "Why are you whispering?" Ava hung upside down from her bunk, hair hanging down.

  This woke up the other two. There was nothing for it. I had to ask.

  "Do you guys know where Betty and Lauren went?"

  "Bett
y? Lauren?" I shouted as I wandered toward the dark woods.

  Kelly had stayed back at the lodge, corralling Ava, Inez, and Kaitlyn, who all wanted to help search for the two.

  I stopped just before the trail in the woods, training my flashlight on the high ropes course. They weren't there. So I stepped into the forest.

  The woods, any woods, can be intimidating at night, especially in a rural area. Trees bend and creak with the breeze, branches snap off and crash to the ground, owls shriek. It's unnerving to many.

  Normally, it wouldn't be a problem for me. I knew the woods around our camp back home. But these were unfamiliar. And there were allegedly ghosts and possibly aliens. But most dangerous were the cliffs. Hadn't Toad said someone fell to their death five years ago? It made me wonder about the genius who decided to build a camp here in the first place. And to name it Camp des Morts.

  "Girls!" I shouted as I stepped on something that squeaked and ran off. "This isn't funny!"

  The sound of giggling straight ahead caught my attention. It seemed to come from the area of the burial mounds. Hushed, female voices ahead were impossible to understand, but it sounded like the girls.

  Just as I came into the clearing, I froze.

  Betty and Lauren were standing next to one of the mounds, whispering to each other. What really stood out were the tinfoil hats they were wearing. Lauren's had been fashioned into an eagle, wings spread as it rose up from the top of her head.

  Betty's had been molded to look like a sniper rifle. It had to be three feet tall. I made a mental note to buy more aluminum foil for the lodge before we left.

  "What are you doing?" I asked as I joined them. "Mrs. Albers is worried sick!"

  Okay, I was too, but they didn't need to know that.

  That's when I noticed they were draped in dark fabric that looked suspiciously like the curtains in the lodge.

  "Guys! What's all this?"

  Betty rolled her eyes at me then wiggled her eyebrows at Lauren. "We are summoning the aliens, of course. What did you think we were doing?"

  I looked at my phone. "It's midnight."

  Betty sounded exasperated. "That's the best time to summon aliens. Everybody knows that."

  I had to ask. "And did they show up?"

  Lauren seemed sad. "No. I think they would if you weren't here. They don't like adults."

  Well, that seemed a little prejudiced. "How do you know that?"

  Betty said simply, "The ghosts told us."

  Lauren spoke up, "We've named them. There's Petunia, Violet, Rose, and Tulip."

  I looked around carefully. "You've been talking to ghosts?"

  "We've only really seen one," Lauren said. "But she already has a name. So we're prepared for any others to show up."

  My mouth fell open. "You've seen a ghost? Where? When?"

  The girls looked at each other then at me.

  "At the lodge. You haven't seen it?" Lauren seemed surprised.

  I wasn't sure how to respond. If I said no, they'd think I was an idiot. If I said yes, then they could trap me.

  "Yes, of course I have."

  Betty looked skeptical. "What did it look like?"

  "A floating round, misty ball," I lied.

  The girls looked at each other. Then back to me. Did I get the answer right?

  Betty narrowed her eyes. "What did it tell you its name was?"

  "Why should I tell you?" I countered.

  "Because you have to prove it to us," Lauren insisted.

  "I don't…hey! You guys aren't supposed to be out here without supervision!"

  Betty stomped on the ground. "But the aliens haven't shown up yet."

  "Just because," I said, "everyone in town keeps mentioning aliens, doesn't mean there really are aliens."

  "You're a septic." Betty glowered.

  "Like a tank?" Lauren asked. "My uncle has one of those."

  "No, septic," she repeated.

  "That's when a wound goes poisonous," I said. "And besides, I'm not here to argue. I'm here to get you back to the lodge."

  The two girls shrugged and headed for the path. That was way easier than I thought it would be. I followed them, on alert for them to take off running the wrong way. But they didn't. Both girls removed their hats and, without a word, walked through the door of the lodge.

  Kelly asked me when I came in, "What's with the hats?"

  "They were calling the aliens," I said breezily.

  She looked toward the kitchen. "They needed tinfoil hats for that?"

  "Duh," I said. "Everyone knows that."

  Kelly ignored the dig. "What made them think aliens were coming?"

  "The ghost they didn't name told them," I explained.

  "There aren't any ghosts." Kelly folded her arms.

  "You're a septic," I said before heading to the bunk room to make sure everyone was where they were supposed to be.

  …Again.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I couldn't sleep. Aunt June's murder weighed heavily on my mind. I probably should've been more worried about my girls getting bitten by the bugs in her house or their sneaking off at night to commune with ghosts and aliens.

  Everyone had mentioned the aliens in passing. What was with that? Were these people crazy? Well, I mean, of course they were, but crazier than that? Around here? That seemed possible. Or was there another reason?

  Finally, I got out of bed and, after making sure the girls were in theirs, quietly got dressed and slipped out to the picnic table right outside. My watch said it was four a.m. A huge, pale moon was starting to sink below the tree line. My eyes followed it.

  A flash of something caught my attention. It was near the high ropes course. There was a shadow on one end of a platform. It seemed to be staring back at me, causing a chill to trickle down my spine.

  Was it a ghost? An alien? Or was it something else? Should I run in and get Lauren's tinfoil eagle hat?

  What was I thinking? There were no ghosts. The girls seemed to buy my description of the orb, but I knew an orb like that could be anything. I didn't believe in ghosts. In all of my travels around the world, I'd never seen any.

  I squinted to get a clearer view, but the figure wasn't moving. It was either waiting to see what I'd do, or it was hoping to blend into the surroundings to disappear later. I looked back at the door to the lodge.

  When my eyes returned to the platform, the shadow was gone. Of course it was. It was just a shadow. There wasn't anyone there at all. And that's when something fluttered from the platform, down to the ground.

  Now that was real, whatever it was. It was probably a leaf, although it looked larger than that. Pulling my cell from my pocket, I turned on the flashlight app and slowly made my way to the ropes course.

  I stopped at the pole connecting to that platform. On the ground was a black stocking cap. Someone had been up there. And it wasn't a ghost. The question was, how did they get down without me knowing it? The ropes course consisted of several large poles with a ladder attached. There was no way someone could've climbed down without me seeing them.

  Which meant the owner of the stocking cap was still up there.

  I could wait here to see who eventually came down. It might take hours for that to happen. I could go inside and get one of those harnesses the girls bought. But that might buy the shadow enough time to climb down and run off.

  No, there was only one way to find out. Climb up there myself. It was the dumbest possible option. And that's the only one I thought would work.

  I grasped the first rung and looked up. No one looked down at me. Like the idiot I was, I began to climb. The ladder was easy to operate. About halfway up, I looked down. I shouldn't have done that. I immediately regretted my decision to forego the harness. What was I doing? I was familiar with low ropes courses. I had no idea what to do on a high one.

  Well, I'd just have to be extra careful and hope that Betty wasn't watching. I'd never live down using the course without a harness, and I was setting a terrible
example. But I was already committed and continued on with the climb.

  I'd had some experience falling from a height. I once fell out of a tree, with branches on the way down breaking my fall little by little until I ended up in a bruised heap on the ground. It was something I did not want to repeat.

  Okay. I'd just go to the top of the platform and come right down. No problem. The girls would never know. There probably wasn't anything up there anyway.

  As I reached the platform, I peeked over the edge. No one was there. I looked around at the connecting elements. There seemed to be two ways to go other than down—a bridge that seemed to be made up of individual swings attached to ropes overhead, with no railing, spaced about a foot and a half apart. The other was a zipline.

  Neither was a viable exit without a harness. Not to mention the fact that I didn't know the tricks to traverse the two paths. I looked down. The ladder or these dubious "bridges" were the only ways off the platform.

  Had I been seeing things? Perhaps there hadn't been anyone there at all. Maybe the hat was left over from some other group who had been here at camp this summer.

  Geez. Maybe the girls and their ghost hunting were getting to me. I made my way back down the pole. At the bottom, I examined the cap. It was a typical wool hat, and it was very much out of place here in late summer. Or was it the ranger's hat? He could've left it.

  Which meant it could've been here already. Maybe I'd just seen a leaf falling. We hadn't really gotten too close to the ropes course because I didn't want the girls to get too excited about it. So far, the potential for ghosts and aliens held the girls' attention. But I couldn't count on that.

  Something rustled in the woods next to the course, and I froze. The sounds were hard to define. I closed my eyes and listened more closely. It sounded like someone running. Right toward me.

  I opened my eyes to see a dark form burst out of the trees, headed straight for me. Dodging to the left at the last minute saved me from getting tackled, but it also caused me to smack my head on the pole I'd just climbed down.