by Kathi Daley
“A receipt for a storage unit. It looks like Edna had the unit for about a decade and paid the rent annually. The unit is paid for through August, so we’re hoping whatever she left in it is still there.”
“Can we check it out?”
“I made a few phone calls and got the go-ahead to take a peek. The unit is just north of town. I’m heading there now. Do you want to come?”
“Heck yeah.” I glanced at Tilly. “Can Tilly ride along in your car?”
Mike shrugged. “Sure. As long as she’s willing to ride in the back.”
I glanced at Frank. “Can I leave my mailbag here?”
“Just toss it under my desk. No one will bother it. Tilly can wait here with me if you want as well.”
“What if you get a call?”
“I’ll put her in Mike’s office and call you. The station will be locked up and you’ll only be about ten minutes away. She’d be fine.”
I glanced at Tilly. She loved to hang out with Frank, and I wasn’t sure what we’d find in the storage unit. “Okay. Hopefully, we won’t be long.”
I explained to Tilly that she was going to hang out with Frank for a few minutes while I went to check something out, then followed Mike to his squad car.
“So, how was your fishing trip?” I asked as we headed to the storage facility.
“It was fun. I didn’t catch any fish, but Bree caught one. Her first, if you can believe it.”
My mouth fell open. “Bree went fishing with you?”
Mike nodded. “I mentioned I planned to go up to that little lake at the base of the National Park when I was at her place on Saturday, helping her replace the part of her fence that was damaged over the winter. She said she’d never been fishing and didn’t think it would be her cup of tea, but I managed to convince her that the peace and solitude of backcountry fishing was something to experience, so she gave it a try.”
I was stunned. Really stunned. Bree was my best friend and I loved her, but we were very different. She was polished and sophisticated, with little tolerance for dirt or clutter, and both her home and her bookstore were always immaculate. She could be talked into a hike every now and then, but fishing?
“And she actually fished? She didn’t just sit and watch you?”
Mike laughed. “She actually fished. Like I said, she even caught one. She was close to hysterical when I explained that we’d need to kill it before we could eat it, so I threw it back. I don’t think she’s going to run out and buy a bunch of fishing gear, but she admitted the experience was pleasant overall.”
Well I’ll be. Bree and Mike. I knew they’d gone out to dinner on Friday, but I’d had no idea that would lead to them spending the entire weekend together. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. They’d been lifelong friends, and I supposed everything they’d done would fall into the friend category, but what if it didn’t? What if they were heading toward something more? I realized I should talk to Bree and get her spin on things. I wanted Bree to find a great guy like Mike, and I wanted Mike to find a great woman like Bree, but I wasn’t sure I wanted them to find each other.
When we arrived at the storage unit, we found it packed from top to bottom. There were boxes labeled and sealed, quite a bit of furniture, which may have been unsold inventory from when Edna closed her antique store, and other miscellaneous items.
“There’s no way we have time to go through this right now,” I said to Mike.
“Yeah. There’s a lot more than I anticipated. We’ll need to come back.”
“I’m meeting Brady at the lake at six to help with some dog training. I should be done by eight, if you don’t mind meeting me here then.” I pointed toward the ceiling. “The unit has an overhead light.”
“I’ll check with the owner, find out what time they lock the front gate. If it looks like we’ll have enough time to make it worth the trip, I’m fine to come back tonight. I’ll text you later.”
I let my eyes dart around the contents of the large room. “Edna might not have had cash when she died, but all these antiques must be worth a pretty penny. It seems to me there’s another reason to track down Chip Townsend. If Edna didn’t leave the items in this room to anyone specifically, chances are all of this belongs to him.”
Mike took me back to town, where I collected Tilly and my mailbag. I managed to get the rest of my route done in record time until I reached the bookstore. Luckily, I still had an hour before I had to meet Brady. Bree had been my last drop-off by design, so I had plenty of time to try to figure out what was going on between my brother and my best friend.
Chapter 11
Bree was just locking up for the day when I arrived, and she waved at me through the glass door, turned the key in the lock, and ushered me inside. Then she relocked the door and turned the “Open” sign to “Closed.”
“I’d all but given up on you today,” Bree said as I handed her the stack of mail I’d been holding back for her.
“It’s been a busy day. I’ve had a lot of deliveries, plus I spent some time with Mike trying to track down Chip Townsend.”
“Any luck?” Bree asked as she began closing out the cash register.
“Maybe. When I dropped off Hap’s mail, he mentioned Chip liked to fish,” I said, explaining how they’d gotten to know each other. “I thought it might be worthwhile to check in to fishing licenses.”
Bree scrunched up her nose. “I can unequivocally state that fishing isn’t as peaceful and serene as some men make it out to be.” She tilted her head, looking in my direction, a fistful of twenty-dollar bills in her hand. “Do you know that the expectation is not only that you catch the fish, fighting off mosquitos and other flying insects all the while, but once you’ve caught it you have to kill and clean it?”
“Mike said he took you out for your maiden voyage.”
Bree’s face wore a look of disgust. “He tricked me is what he did. He waited until I was in a pliant and malleable mood and tricked me.”
“Pliant and malleable?” I suppressed a chuckle.
Bree quickly counted the pile of money in her hand, recorded the amount in her ledger, placed it in a bank bag, and picked up the next pile of bills, tens, from the register. “He called me on Friday, not long after you left, and told me that you’d been by to ask about Chip. He said you’d mentioned I’d wanted to go out for dinner but you had been busy, so he suggested the two of us go together. I was in the mood to do something more festive than laundry, so I agreed. We went to that new Mexican place in Kalispell.”
“Kalispell? That seems like a long drive for dinner.”
“Not really. It was a nice night and Mike suggested we take his Harley. It seemed like a good distraction from the mundane life I’ve settled into, so I agreed. We had a wonderful time.”
Bree on a Harley? Perhaps I didn’t know her as well as I thought.
“Anyway,” Bree continued, “during dinner I mentioned that part of my fence had been destroyed over the winter and needed to be replaced. I asked him if he knew any handymen who would do a good job for a fair price. Mike said he was totally free on Saturday and would come over to fix it for me. I offered to pay him, but he refused. He said I could make him dinner in exchange for the labor. You know the spring is my slowest time and I need to watch my expenses, so I agreed. He came over in the morning, made a list of what he’d need, used his truck to go get the wood, then had the fence not only repaired but painted by five. He barbecued steaks, and I put some Idahos and corn on the cob on the grill.” Bree smiled. “It was actually very nice. I know Mike can be a tool at times, but it was very sweet of him to spend his entire Saturday fixing my fence.”
I lifted a shoulder. “He can be a good guy when he gets it in his mind to be. So how did all that lead to fishing?”
Bree placed the ten-dollar bills in the bank bag and started on the fives. “While we were relaxing on my deck, enjoying the beautiful day, sipping wine, and relaxing, Mike told me that he was going fishing on Sunday. He asked me if I
wanted to go, and I, of course, immediately said no. But then he started to paint the picture of an isolated lake in the middle of the forest with an old wooden deck on one end that someone had built decades ago. He talked about lounging in the sun with a cold beer as we soaked up some rays. It sounded nice. Serene. It was probably the wine, but before I knew what had hit me, I found myself agreeing to go.”
I laughed out loud.
“It isn’t funny.”
“I take it Mike oversold the experience?”
Bree nodded. “I’ll admit it was fun at first. I wore my bikini, laid out in the sun, and read a book while he fished. After I’d had enough sun we moved to a shady spot. Mike had brought an extra fishing pole and asked if I wanted to try. I really didn’t, but he convinced me that casting the line, slowly reeling it in, and then casting it again, was an almost Zenlike experience. I was bored by then, so I gave it a go. And it was fun. At first. But then I caught that dang-blasted fish, and everything went downhill from there.”
I put my hand on Bree’s arm as she picked up the pile of ones still left in the cash register. “I’m sorry Mike tricked you. He should have known you and fishing weren’t a good mix. I guess it was partly my fault for suggesting he ask you to dinner on Friday.”
“It wasn’t your fault. I had the best time on Friday night I’d had in a very long time. And I got my fence fixed for the cost of a meal. Less than the cost of a meal, because Mike bought the steaks. And Sunday wasn’t all that bad except for the fish. If I go again, I’ll be fishing without a hook.”
I raised a brow. “If you go again? Are you thinking of going again?”
Bree shrugged. “I don’t have definite plans, but it was a nice day when you take the fish out of the equation. So maybe. How about you? How was your weekend? Did Shaggy mind his manners on Friday, or did he act like a toddler the way he usually does?”
“Shaggy didn’t show, so it was just Tony and me. And it was fun. We played the game he had to test and on Saturday I helped him build some garden boxes for his deck. We even planted some herbs.”
Bree tilted her head. “Sounds very domestic.”
I smiled. “I guess it was. I forget there’s more to Tony than the computer stuff. He likes to cook. He learned from his grandmother in Italy.”
It was Bree’s turn to look surprised. “Really? All I’ve ever seen him eat is takeout and frozen pizza.”
“I think that has more to do with being busy than anything else.” I looked at the clock. “Geez, I have to go. I’m meeting Brady for some dog training.”
“Want to grab dinner after?”
“Actually, Brady mentioned bringing a picnic. We’re working with the terrier brothers at the beach. And after that I’m meeting Mike at the storage facility north of town.”
“Storage facility?”
I quickly explained Edna’s storage room, then hurried off to meet Brady.
******
Brady, Jagger, and Bowie were waiting for Tilly and me when we arrived. By the look of things, Brady had been working on some basic commands while he waited but wisely released the boys to relax when he saw my Jeep approaching. The odds of them maintaining a sit/stay once they realized Tilly and I had come to play was slim to none, and in the early stages of training it was best to avoid situations where a dog would be unsuccessful.
Brady held on to both dogs’ collars until I’d come to a complete stop. Once I was out of the Jeep and had opened the door for Tilly, Brady let them go. The three dogs greeted one another with wiggles and wagging tails accentuated by yips of happiness. I loved it when dogs came together in greeting. Their capacity for unbridled joy was beautiful to see.
“Right on time,” Brady said as I walked over and gave him a quick hug.
“Have you been here long?”
“About fifteen minutes. I used the time to work on a few basics with the brothers. They’re really coming along. Today is the first time I’ve really been able to get them to focus on me with both together.”
“Maybe it’s the change of scenery that did it.” I looked around at the lake, beach, and forest in the distance. “There’s a lot to take in. The location could have been even more distracting than the training room at the shelter, but it also might be somewhat overwhelming, even though we were here on Saturday. The boys probably didn’t get out a lot with their former owner. They know you. Trust you. They most likely look to you for direction in this new and initially uncomfortable situation.”
“Yeah. I guess.” He glanced at the brothers, who looked as if they might wiggle out of their skin with excitement now that Tilly was here. “Are you ready?”
I slipped off my tennis shoes, opened my bag, and grabbed three balls. “As I’ll ever be.”
I called all three dogs and told them to sit. Then, as I drew back my arm to throw the first of the balls, I yelled for them to fetch. Tilly took off like a dart, though the brothers looked less sure. I tossed the second ball into the water and yelled fetch again. Jagger hesitated just a bit, then went in after it. I hadn’t tossed it far, so he didn’t need to swim; I figured it was best to start slowly. I held the third ball in front of Bowie’s face. “Do you want it?” He locked his eyes on the ball and jumped up on his hind legs. I tossed it in the water, even closer to the shore than the one I’d tossed for Jagger. “Okay, fetch.”
It took a good thirty minutes of playing with the dogs, wading out farther and farther as we did so, before the brothers were faced with the choice to either swim out to where Brady and I were playing with Tilly or watch from afar. Both dogs barked and pranced and eventually Jagger’s excitement got the better of him. Before I knew it, he was swimming directly to me. “Good boy, Jagger. Way to swim. Just a little farther.” I held out my arms to him. Committed now that he could no longer stand, he headed directly to me. As soon as he reached me, I lifted him into my arms and rewarded him with hugs and kisses. Then I walked him back to the shore and we repeated the game several times. Jagger seemed to enjoy paddling around in the water once he figured out he wasn’t going to sink, but it took most of the evening to get Bowie to try it for the first time. We didn’t want to stop until Bowie had a chance to repeat the behavior several times, so it was already seven-thirty by the time we called it a day.
“I brought food,” Brady said.
I glanced at my watch. “That sounds so good, but I’m supposed to meet Mike at eight.” I took a few minutes to explain our search for Chip and Edna’s storage shed.
“Wow. I hope you find the guy, and I totally understand. Tomorrow?”
“I have plans tomorrow, but now that the boys are used to the water and seem to enjoy swimming, I think they’ll swim for you even without Tilly as enticement. Maybe one of the other volunteers can come with you tomorrow. If it doesn’t work out and you feel like you still need Tilly, we can come out on Wednesday.”
“Book club is Wednesday.”
I cringed. Brady was a lot better about making it to the book club Bree held on Wednesday evenings than I was. “Okay then, Thursday.” I ran a towel over Tilly once I’d dried my own legs and pulled on my shorts. “Or better yet, have Jimmy come help you with the boys. You may as well find out sooner rather than later if there’s chemistry there.”
Brady nodded. “I’ll call him when I get home. Are you still on for speed dating on Saturday?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. If I don’t talk to you before, I’ll see you then.”
I grabbed a granola bar from my glove box before I started the Jeep and headed back toward town. It looked like I wasn’t going to get dinner and I was starving, but I didn’t have time to stop to grab a bite to eat. Mike was already there when Tilly and I arrived at the storage facility and, much to my surprise, so was Bree.
“I didn’t expect you to be here,” I greeted her.
“Your story intrigued me, so I called Mike and asked if he minded if I tagged along. We knew you were training with Brady, so we went ahead and got started. I’m not an expert, but I know a bi
t about antiques and I can tell you, there’s a lot of really valuable stuff in here.”
It just looked like a lot of old furniture to me, but what did I know? “Did you find anything that might help us track Chip down?”
“Not yet,” Mike said. “But we’ve just started. It looks like the stuff toward the back is inventory from the antique store. The boxes and smaller items closer to the front appear to be personal items, most likely stored when she moved from her house to the assisted-living facility.”
“I found a box of photos,” Bree volunteered. “I’ve been sorting through them, hoping we’ll find a clue to where the special place Chip referred to in the card might be.”
I looked at Mike. “Are we totally certain Edna only had one child? Maybe she had another one who was older and never lived here?”
“I ran a search. The only birth record I could find with Edna’s name on it was for Greg Fairchild, who was born in Chicago in 1973.”
“The card was postmarked from Chicago,” I volunteered.
“It looked as if Edna Townsend married Dorian Fairchild in July 1970 in a civil ceremony in Chicago,” Mike informed me. “Greg was born on June 18, 1973, and Fairchild, who worked as a long-haul trucker, was convicted of killing six women along his route in 1987.”
I felt a shiver crawl up my spine. The fact that this serial killer was a long haul trucker the same as my father had hit a bit too close to home. I couldn’t help but wonder if the reason my own father had disappeared wasn’t equally as disturbing. I was tempted to fill Mike in on the whole confusing mystery but realized that would be rash at this point so I didn’t.
Mike continued. “Greg had his last name changed legally to Townsend six months after his father’s conviction, and Greg and Edna moved to White Eagle in January of 1988. Greg was kicked out of school in January of 1991 and left town in 1993 or ’94. I couldn’t find anything that indicated a specific date for his departure.”
