Murder of a Sweet Old Lady srm-2

by Denise Swanson

  After greeting everyone, Vince took a seat next to his mother and patted her hand. “Dad’s on his way.”

  “Thanks, hon.”

  A few minutes later, Skye’s father entered the room. He snatched a John Deere cap off his head, revealing a steel-gray crew cut and faded brown eyes. His tanned face crinkled like a leather handbag when he frowned.

  Jed nodded to everybody and lowered himself into a side chair. “I’m sorry, May. Antonia was a good woman.”

  They all agreed, and then sat silently, Skye getting up to let Bingo back in when he meowed at the door.

  Chief Boyd coughed politely, standing at the archway between the dining and living rooms. When they became aware of his presence, he entered.

  As soon as he was settled on the edge of an overstuffed chair the chief spoke. “Looks like that housekeeper of yours hightailed it out of here. The closet and drawers in her room are empty, and there’s no sign of any personal possessions. Do you have a way to reach her?”

  “The only thing we have is the number of the agency we hired her through. We send our check to them, and they pay her from that,” May said.

  “Well, I’ll need that address and number as soon as possible.” Wally shifted in his chair.

  “I’ll get it to you first thing tomorrow.” May turned to Jed. “Don’t let me forget.”

  Jed mumbled something that seemed to satisfy May.

  The chief made a motion as if to get up, but May asked, “Why did Simon take her away before we got here?”

  He looked down at his immaculately polished shoes and reached down to rub out an imaginary scuff mark. “Well, if a person dies alone, not in a hospital or with a doctor attending, then it’s considered suspicious until we get someone to sign off on the cause of death.” He stopped, obviously choosing his next words carefully. “So Simon had to take certain precautions in case things were ever needed for evidence.”

  “I see. I guess I knew that from work.” May’s face screwed up, but she didn’t cry. “When can we make the arrangements?”

  “Real soon, I expect. Doc Zello is good about taking care of things like this.” The chief stood and edged toward the door. “I’m going to get going now, unless I can do something for you folks.” He looked at May. “I’m sorry for your loss. Take as much time off work as you need.”

  May nodded her thanks.

  Skye finally remembered to call Father Burns. After that, she and her mother took turns on the phone trying to reach May’s sisters and brother.

  Vince was sent to check the various fields that the different families owned, rented, and/or farmed; Jed went back to their place to take care of the equipment; and Charlie finally agreed to go home.

  It was nearly seven and they had still failed to get in touch with any of the siblings. Skye and May sat at the kitchen table drinking from cans of soda. There was an untouched plate of saltine crackers and cheese in front of them.

  May subtly nudged the food nearer to Skye. “Where in the heck could everyone be? I know the guys are probably staying late in the fields. Those heavy spring rains really put everyone’s planting behind schedule. But Minnie, Mona, and Olive should be home.”

  Skye absentmindedly took a wedge of cheddar. “Should we try their kids’ numbers?”

  “Soon, but I wanted to tell my sisters and brother about Mom before we told their kids.” May took a cracker but didn’t put it in her mouth. “When Vince gets back, we’ll have him take a ride by the cousins’ houses and see if their parents’ cars or trucks are there.”

  “I could do that right now.” Skye put the cheese down.

  Minnie’s twin daughters, Ginger and Gillian, lived next door to each other in town. Dante’s son, Hugo, lived in Clay Center, only fifteen minutes away.

  “No, honey, stay with me. Okay?” May squeezed Skye’s knee.

  “Sure, Mom. As long as you want.”

  Vince got back about an hour later. Some of the farmland was as far away as Streator. He flung himself into a chair and grabbed a piece of cheese. “I found Uncle Emmett. He was over near Gardner. Says Aunt Minnie is at Carle Clinic and he’ll call her.”

  May paled. “What’s wrong with Minnie? Why’d she go all the way down to the hospital in Urbana by herself?”

  Vince shrugged and took a cracker, which he carefully layered with Swiss. “Uncle Emmett didn’t say. I was in a hurry to find the others so I didn’t stick around and ask. Sorry.”

  “That’s okay, sweetheart. You did a good job. Did you find anyone else?” May got up and took the bread from its box.

  “Nope. No one was at home or in any of their fields.”

  May put out sliced roast beef and chips. “I’m going to call Hugo. Maybe he knows where his parents are. I don’t know what to do about Mona and Neal, since they don’t have any children.” She nodded toward the food on the table. “Make yourself a sandwich, kids. This is stacking up to be a long night.”

  About eight-thirty Jed returned and sat down at the table. May immediately filled a plate for him and he started to eat without a word. Lines of exhaustion creased his forehead and radiated from his eyes. During spring planting, farmers often worked from dawn until they could no longer see by using their tractor’s lights.

  She spoke while he chewed. “Minnie’s down at Carle Clinic. God knows why. I sure hope she doesn’t have one of her spells when we tell her about Mom.” She paused to put more food on Jed’s dish. “Emmett and the twins should be here soon. Hugo says his parents left for an auction about five, and were going to stop for dinner afterward. Still nothing on Mona and Neal.”

  Jed nodded.

  May sat back down and buried her head in her arms. “I can’t stand it. Mom’s dead, Minnie’s sick with who-knows-what, and Mona’s missing. What’s going on?”

  Skye patted her mom’s hand. “Maybe Minnie is finally getting some help for those spells she gets.” For a long time Skye had thought Minnie’s spells were probably a form of a depressive disorder such as dysthymia. Not that the family had listened to her gentle hints that Minnie should see a psychiatrist for an evaluation.

  “How about Mona and Dante?”

  Skye rubbed May’s back. “I’m sure they’re all fine.”

  Hearing her own words, she frowned. Where have I heard that before?

  CHAPTER 3

  A Diller, a Dollar, See How They Holler

  Skye was in the bathroom talking to Simon on the phone. She had stretched the cord as far as it would go in order to talk in private. “Simon, you can’t call it natural causes. Grandma may have been old but she wasn’t sick. What did Doc Zello say?”

  “Doc Zello isn’t happy with that cause of death either, but he can’t give me an alternative, and considering her age and your family’s reputation in the community, he’ll sign off.”

  Sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, Skye gripped the receiver. “No, it isn’t right. If Doc has doubts and I have doubts, then we should have an autopsy done.”

  “But why? Surely you don’t suspect that someone murdered your grandma.”

  “I don’t want to think so, but I do want to know for sure what happened.” Skye paused and petted Bingo, who had insisted on following her into the bathroom. “Simon, there’s a lot that doesn’t feel right. I told Wally earlier all the things that were weird about the situation.”

  “What do you mean? Wally didn’t mention anything.”

  Skye took a deep breath. She knew Wally had ignored what she said. “First, the cat was outside. He is never, ever allowed outdoors because he is declawed and has no way to defend himself. Second, the housekeeper is missing. No note, nothing. Third, when I found Grandma she was all tucked into bed. The covers were pulled over her face. She wouldn’t have done that herself. She was claustrophobic. And, I know this last one is lame, but between the time I pulled in and the time I called you, someone was in the garage and left the door ajar.”

  When she finished, the only sound from Simon’s side of the line was static. Fi
nally he said, “Okay, I’ll talk to Chief Boyd and Doc Zello, but don’t let your imagination run wild. I’ll come out to your grandmother’s after I finish up tonight.”

  Minnie’s husband, Emmett Overby, and their identical twin daughters arrived around nine. Ginger Allen and Gillian Tubb were twenty-nine, with big blue eyes and baby-fine blond hair. Emmett, at fifty-two, looked like the farmer from Grant Wood’s famous painting, American Gothic.

  Sinking into the remaining kitchen chair, Emmett took off his cap and ran his fingers through his graying hair. “I couldn’t get ahold of Minnie. The motel she’s at says she’s not in her room.”

  May glanced sideways at Ginger and Gillian. “Why is she down there, Emmett? What’s wrong with her?”

  He looked at his hands dangling between his legs. “Woman trouble.”

  “Oh? Why’d she go all by herself?” May swept cracker crumbs into a pile.

  Tugging at the neck of his T-shirt, Emmett refused to look up. “Says it’s private.”

  “What do you girls know about this?” May turned to the twins.

  Both answered, “Nothing, Aunt May.”

  May narrowed her eyes until Ginger continued, “Mom’s been having some problems with the change.” She turned red as she caught Vince’s eye.

  Gillian claimed a stool next to the wall near the telephone. This left Ginger to drag a chair in from the dining room.

  Gillian eyed the food spread across the tabletop. “I see you all have been making yourselves at home.” She turned to Skye. “Next thing we know you’ll be clearing out the closets. I hope you realize this is not a case of first come, first served. My mom has just as much claim on Grandma’s property as yours does.”

  Skye had been silent, mulling over the inconsistencies leading to her grandmother’s death, but Ginger’s comment penetrated her fog. “Ginger, let me ask you a question. When the Lion King was killed trying to save his son, did you find that a sad moment . . . at all?”

  Vince let out a bark of laughter, but bit it off before it could grow. Jed’s lip curled slightly. May shot Skye a mother-look that silenced her, at least temporarily.

  Expressions of confusion were replaced with those of rage as Ginger and Gillian began to understand what Skye had said.

  Gillian spoke up. “That was entirely uncalled for. How could you be so cruel? After all, we’re still reeling from Grandma’s passing.” A sob broke her voice. “Unlike your family, we just found out about it a little while ago.” She paused for breath. “Speaking of that, why did it take you so long to let us know?”

  May got up and started to put the food away. “We were trying to reach the aunts and uncles, so they could tell their own children.”

  “But, of course, Vince and Skye were an exception,” Gillian said flatly, her tears miraculously disappearing.

  “Look, it’s hardly a privilege to be the one who finds poor Grandma dead. And if you can’t see why I would contact my family before yours, then I don’t have any way of explaining it.” Skye got up to help her mother clear the table.

  “You always have an answer, don’t you? But the true story is you’ve always been jealous of Ginger and me. We’re prettier, we were co-prom queens, and we’re married. You just can’t stand that.” Gillian crossed her arms and sneered at Skye.

  “Why, you little—”

  “Skye!” May said sharply.

  Sitting back, Gillian smiled nastily. “I know when I’ve said enough.”

  “Obviously not,” Skye muttered. She shouldn’t have said that. Why did she let the twins push her buttons? Maybe she was a little jealous, which was silly. They weren’t six years old anymore and they hadn’t just been given a better doll than she had for Christmas.

  Gillian opened her mouth, but Vince was quicker. “Uncle Emmett, when do you expect Aunt Minnie home?”

  Emmett scratched his head. “She was supposed to have some more tests in the morning, then drive home. Planned on being back by supper time.”

  “Did you leave her a message at the motel?” May asked from the sink.

  “Told her to call here, no matter what time she got back.”

  May shut off the faucet and stuck the first glass in the soapy water. “I had Vince put a note on Mona and Neal’s door, saying pretty much the same thing. Hugo’s going to bring his folks over here soon as they get home. Guess we’re stuck here for a while. Let’s try not to fight anymore.”

  No one had said anything for the last fifteen minutes. Both Jed and Emmett were dozing in their chairs, but the noise of the back door slamming woke them.

  Dante Leofanti rushed up the steps, trailed by his wife, Olive, and son, Hugo. Skye watched her uncle push his way into the center of attention. He was less than five-six with all his weight in his chest and stomach. When she was a little girl, she’d loved to listen to his stories. But as she grew older, she and her uncle had grown apart. It was sad that now they seemed to have nothing in common, couldn’t sustain a conversation past the topics of health and weather.

  He reached for May and enveloped her in a hug. “You poor thing. Having to handle this all by yourself.”

  Skye glanced at the room full of people and wondered, What are we, weeds in his cornfield?

  He smoothed back his thick gray hair and spotted Skye. “You poor angel. How sad to be the one to find your grandma like that. Too bad it couldn’t have been one of the boys. You know Hugo stopped by almost every day.”

  Skye stifled a grimace. Uncle Dante was already rewriting history. Hugo only visited his grandmother on holidays and birthdays, and then for such short periods of time he rarely sat down. But she didn’t say anything. Maybe this was the only way Dante could handle his grief.

  Hugo had been fortunate. He carried his forty years well, and had gotten the better physical traits of both his parents. His mother’s side allowed him to be of average height, five-ten, and his father had provided thick black hair. He had the Leofanti green eyes but something was missing in his. Maybe it was openness. He was good at keeping his thoughts to himself, an advantage in his job as a car salesman.

  After getting chairs for his mother and father, he stood behind Olive with his hands on her shoulders. It was hard to tell whether the gesture was one of comfort or control.

  Olive always seemed uneasy among the Leofantis. She was from Chicago, and although she and Dante had been married for thirty-nine years, she still acted like someone who was just visiting from the city.

  Skye noticed that she was pleating the hem of her pink floral dress. She seemed to feel Skye’s glance and reached up to pat her short blond hair, though every strand was already in place.

  Skye smiled at Olive. “Pretty dress.”

  Olive seemed flustered. “Thanks. I’ve had it for years.”

  “Hugo told us what happened, but I’m confused about a few things.” Dante looked from May to Skye.

  “Oh?” May had been handling her brother’s chauvinistic manner for years.

  When it was clear May wasn’t going to go on, Dante elaborated. “Why did Skye call the coroner?”

  Skye couldn’t tell which of her cousins, either Ginger or Gillian, whispered, “She probably just wanted an excuse to call her boyfriend. I hear he hasn’t been coming around lately.”

  Tamping down her irritation, Skye faced her uncle. “Who would you suggest I should have called instead?”

  “Your mother, your aunts, me.” Dante’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  Crossing her arms, Skye leaned back. “I didn’t want to tell Mom over the phone that her mother was dead.”

  “How about me or your aunts?” Dante leaned his chair back on two legs.

  Skye considered her answer briefly. The truth was she didn’t want to deal with her aunts and uncle, but she couldn’t say that so she resorted to the near truth. “I didn’t think about it.”

  Dante thumped his chair onto the floor. “Well, young lady, I don’t believe that for a minute. What’s the real reason?”

  May gr
ipped Skye’s arm and Vince shook his head wildly. Skye smiled. “Uncle Dante, you really, really don’t want to go down that road. Let’s just say the family and I usually think in opposite ways.”

  “Fine, we’ll let that go for now. But I still don’t understand what’s going on. Where is Mom right now?” Dante looked around as if he thought they had hidden the corpse in one of the cupboards.

  Skye answered. “Because she died alone and without any documented health problems, they have to treat it as a suspicious death. They’re waiting for Doc Zello to rule on the cause.”

  “Well, why haven’t we heard anything yet?” Dante asked.

  “I talked to Simon a little bit ago. He said he’d come out as soon as Doc Zello makes a determination,” Skye answered, trying hard to keep her voice even and not reveal the true contents of her conversation with Simon. “And I believe there was a wake tonight from seven to nine.” Before anyone could ask who, she added, “I think it was for old Mrs. Doratto.”

  Gillian piped up, “Well, I hope Simon doesn’t think we’re going to use the Reid Funeral Home for Grandma’s funeral just because he already has the body.”

  Vince shook his head. “Gillian, you are just like a politician raising taxes. You don’t know when to stop and you always go too far.”

  It was a little past ten when Mona and Neal O’Brian finally arrived. They had been at a dinner at the Knights of Columbus. The KC prided themselves on being defenders of their faith. As Grand Knight, Neal was the head of the local council.

  Mona, dressed in an expensive beige pantsuit, carried a quilted Chanel handbag. She was the youngest of Antonia’s children, only forty-eight, and looked nothing like her sisters or brother. Every ash-blond hair was sprayed into a chignon that did not move even in high winds.

  Tall and physically fit, the O’Brians had an air of money and elegance. Skye always imagined them in tennis whites on the court at the country club.