“Have you questioned him?” Peterson asked.
“Yes, but he had this receipt that put him in Standish at the time of Mildred’s death. Or so we thought. Now I can’t even remember what the exact time was,” I informed the sheriff. “That was days ago, and my memory isn’t the best.”
“I see. We’ll check out that lead. Anyone else of interest?”
I shook my head. “Not that I can think of, offhand.”
Sales led us to the door. “Give me a call if you have anything to add.”
El and I made our way back to the Cadillac, all but ignoring the tourists on their porches, who were no doubt wondering what had happened. We lit right out of there. El gave Elsie a quick call, informing her that she didn’t need to worry about Timothy ever again. She stopped short of informing her that Timothy had been murdered. We’d leave that for the cops. I had no idea how that would sit with Elsie. On the one hand, she might be happy, but then again—he was her nephew, regardless what he had done to her. He was also her last of kin that we knew of. Unless, of course, she had someone else she kept quiet about, possibly more children she had forgotten to mention. As it was, during our first case, her one son had been a suspect in the Robinson murders, but he was innocent and had been murdered to cover up the true identity of the killer.
Now, we went straight back to the cabin where we were staying and found Mr. Wilson and Andrew chilling out on the deck with Anna. When we walked out there, the three of them were laughing up a storm.
Andrew’s eyes met mine, and he asked, “What’s wrong, Aggie?”
I sank into the nearest chair and informed him of how El and I had just found the body of Timothy, and I explained that I felt certain that whoever killed Mildred had killed Timothy, too.
He hugged me and muttered into my ear, “How awful for you and El. Please be careful.”
I pulled away, and Mr. Wilson gave El a peck on the cheek, his face bright, and his eyes all aglow with love clearly displayed in them.
“It’s a good thing that Timothy is dead because I was ready to give that man a hurting,” Wilson said. “Poor Elsie, we’ll have to show her all of our support now. I can’t imagine it will be easy for her to have to bury another relative, and so soon after poor Mildred met her end.”
I had to agree with Wilson. “How right you are, but from the way she held her shotgun on us earlier, I think she’ll just be happy that she doesn’t have to keep looking over her shoulder. I can’t imagine how that would feel, to have your own nephew doing something like that.”
“She could have died,” El added. “If it were me, I’d not give a shit, but then again, I haven’t been through such a harrowing experience.”
Andrew raised a brow. “No? What about that case at the Butler Mansion? Weren’t you almost thrown out of a third-story window?”
“That was by a crazy lady, not my own family member, and Agnes rescued me.”
“Remember that Andrew had a hand at helping, too. Although, unfortunately, he had been rendered unconscious,” I said.
“Don’t remind me,” Andrew said with a laugh. “I have no idea why I worry about you two when you both seem quite capable of handling yourselves.”
“That’s what I keep telling you. I know it hurts your manhood to think that we don’t need your help, but that might not always be the case. I more than welcome you to come in blazing to the rescue on a white horse.”
Andrew popped a cork and poured some wine in celebration of Mr. Wilson and El’s engagement. “I have to give it to you, old man,” Andrew said to Wilson. “You beat me to the punch. I had thought I would propose before you.”
“You mean you’re gonna propose to my Eleanor?”
Andrew waved a hand and replied with, “I meant propose to Agnes.”
I bit my lip, silently praying that he wouldn’t do that—not yet.
“Don’t worry, Aggie,” Andrew added. “I know that neither of us is ready for that step just yet, but I hope you won’t rule it out when the time comes.”
I guzzled my wine, relieved and yet irritated at the same time. “I’m so happy for El and Mr. Wilson, but the question is, will we ever find out Wilson’s first name?”
Wilson slapped his leg. “You will, I promise, but not until the wedding.”
“Which is when?”
“Oh, I don’t know. What do you think, Eleanor? You know we’re too old for a long engagement.”
El’s eyes were big as pools. “A girl needs time to plan for a wedding. I’ll have to give it some serious thought.”
Since El wasn’t ready to commit to a date just yet, we drank our wine instead. Anna threw some steaks on the grill and served us, insisting that it simply wasn’t good to drink on an empty stomach and we all needed to eat something. Not much any of us could do but listen, as it made sense. My mind wandered a bit, and I just wasn’t sure where the investigation would go next, but what I did know was that tonight was time to put all that aside and celebrate El and Mr. Wilson.
Chapter Fifteen
I was awakened, not by a sound, but by blindingly bright sunlight shining through the sheer curtains, directly into my eyes. No sense in burying my head in the pillow, so I swung my feet out of bed and into the sandals that I used as slippers. I kept telling myself that I’d buy a fuzzy pair, but I never got around to it.
I wandered into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. Nobody was around, which should have given me reason to pause, but instead, I wandered toward the patio door and threw it open, inhaling the fresh breeze that blew toward me. There was a hint of fish in the air, and I made my way down the few steps that led to the beach. I dipped a few toes in the water and shuddered at the cold temperature. It took well into July before the lake was a decent temperature. Not that I had planned to take a dip today. It was so quiet this morning—too quiet.
I ran back to the deck, and took the steps two at a time. I raced through the house and whipped Eleanor’s door open. She sat up in surprise and spat out, “Are you trying to give me a heart attack, old girl?”
“Did Anna say she was going somewhere today?”
“No, why?”
“Because she’s not here, that’s why.”
El wiped her eyes, and she got up, making tracks into the living room. “That’s odd, but she must be around here somewhere. It just wouldn’t be good if she left right now. I’d hate to think her boyfriend found out where she was staying.”
I searched the entire house while El checked outside, but still—no Anna. When I checked the front door, a chill crept up my spine—the chain lock had been ripped from the wall, and the door was slightly open, tapping against the frame with the wind.
“That’s not good. I’m afraid that her boyfriend came by and snatched Anna.”
“What did she say his name was again?”
“Conner Wilcon,” I said. I called 911 and reported a break in. I’d simply tell whoever showed up that Anna was missing. El and I had dressed by the time a rap sounded at the door.
I opened the door to a wide-eyed Sheriff Peterson, who was adjusting his trousers. “You claim there’s a break in?”
I nodded. “Yes.” I pointed to the latch that was lying on the floor. “Anna Parsons is missing.”
“Anna who?”
“I met her at the hospital when I stayed overnight. She was there on account of the fact that her boyfriend broke her arm.”
“I see, but how did she end up here?”
“She didn’t have anywhere to go so I brought her back here.”
“I see. Was that wise, though? How can you be sure she told you the truth about her arm?”
“I tell you, she was injured by her boyfriend. A deputy even stopped by to take her statement. The female deputy promised she’d arrest Anna’s boyfriend, a Conner Wilcon.”
Peterson went out to his car, and I saw from the door that he was radioing it in. He then came back inside. “You’re right. I alerted the state police to be on the lookout for Conner and that he might
have forced Anna to go with him.”
“So, that’s it?”
“We’ll find her, don’t worry.”
“Before or after he kills the girl?”
Peterson’s brows drew together. “I don’t know what more you think I can do?”
I pursed my lips. “You’re right, but El and I are going to look, too. We need to find Anna before Conner hurts her.”
“And how are you planning to do that when you don’t even know what kind of vehicle Conner drives?”
I pleaded with Peterson. “You could always tell me. It will be faster that way.”
He shook his head. “You’re expecting me to help you take the law into your own hands. Vigilante justice is overrated and usually only makes things worst.”
“So, you won’t help us then? I expected as much, so get outta my way so I can find Anna myself.”
Peterson followed us all the way to the Cadillac. “I strongly caution the both of you to go back in the house before—”
I never let him finish what he had to say. El and I hopped in the car, and I took off down US 23.
“Do you really think Anna is in trouble?” El asked.
“I’m sure of it. If that man lays a hand on the girl, I’ll rip him to shreds.”
El drummed her fingers on her lap and nodded. “But how on earth will we be able to find her in time when we don’t even know where this Conner lives?”
I gave that some serious thought. “Didn’t Anna say that Conner partied with that Chuck who runs the tabloid?”
“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean anything. It’s hard telling where Conner really is.”
“I know that, El, but Chuck might be able to tell us where Conner lives.”
El smiled. “Sounds great, but are you sure Chuck will be forthcoming?”
“I bet he will, when you pull out your revolver.”
“So, let me get this straight. You’re giving me permission to scare a teenager half to death just for a bit of information?”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, but what makes you think his parents will even let us in the door?”
“They will. I think they’d rather deal with us than the feds. It’s only a matter of time before they’re knocking on their door as it is, since Chuck’s not supposed to have a computer. I can’t believe for a minute that the government hasn’t been keeping better tabs on the boy.”
When we got to Chuck’s house, his mother let us inside without much complaint. We caught up with Chuck, who was at the breakfast table.
“Why are you back here?” he asked.
“We’re only here for a bit of information about Conner Wilcon.”
“What do you want with Conner?”
“We’re looking for his girlfriend, Anna.”
“Anna? She’s left town,” Conner said.
“It’s not the truth. She was hiding out at my place. Conner broke her arm.”
Chuck just shook his head, looking genuinely disturbed. “I knew they always fought, but that’s a bit much, even for Conner.” He rattled off the address and we left, ignoring Chuck’s questions about how the treasure hunting was coming.
We arrived at the address on Evans Street ten minutes later. After going around the block a few times to assess the scene, I parked on the street and walked toward the grey one-story home. There was a red pickup truck parked in the driveway with a confederate flag draped from the back. “Are you sure we’re at the right address?” El asked. “Because that truck sure looks like it belongs to one of the Hill boys. Curtis, to be exact.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. The Hill boys have been known to have an association with the Michigan Militia, which worried the hell out of me right now. “Maybe this Conner is friends with Curtis and Chris Hill,” I said. “We’ve never had any trouble with those boys, so this might go in our favor.”
El’s face whitened. “I’m not so sure about that—”
Before she was able to finish her sentence, we were staring down the barrel of a shotgun, or three of them, actually. Curtis and Chris Hill lowered their weapons when they recognized us, but the third man did not. I figured he was Conner, but just to be sure, I asked him, “Are you Conner Wilcon?”
He spat a wad of chewing tobacco near my foot. “What if I am? What do you old bats want?”
Curtis shook his head. “Now be nice, Conner. Miss Agnes and Miss Eleanor are good friends with our Ma.”
Conner shot them a look. “What does that matter to me? They’re trespassing.”
I held up my hands. “Now, I know that, but we don’t want any trouble. We’re just looking for Anna Parsons. Is she here?”
His lips curled up into a snarl. “Anna belongs to me, you got that?”
“You abused that poor girl. Let her go before someone gets hurt, now.”
He took a step forward. “You mean, like you?”
“Are you beating Anna?” Curtis asked. “That just isn’t right. So you broke her arm, then?”
“What do you care? I don’t meddle in your affairs, Curtis, so you boys had better head on back home now—and take these old bats with you.”
El pulled out her pistol and had it cocked back already. She shot Conner in the foot, and as he howled in pain, he dropped the shotgun, and it went off with a bang. El and I gave each other a look to ascertain that neither of us had been shot, as Chris Hill crumbled to the ground. Curtis grabbed the shotgun and pointed it at Conner’s head. “You shot my brother, you fool.”
I rushed to Chris’s side and pressed a hand to his leg, where the wound was. “Now, Curtis, don’t get yourself into trouble here. Let me call the cops, and they’ll deal with Conner.”
“I don’t need the law fighting my battles,” he shouted.
I tried to defuse the situation. “I know that, but I came to get Anna out of here, and that’s just what I plan to do. Conner needs to be arrested for what he’s done to her.”
“That’s fine and all, but I’m getting Chris outta here.”
“He needs medical attention,” I insisted.
Curtis’s deadly grey eyes met mine, and he said, “We take care of our own.”
“Get Anna,” El said to me, as she continued to hold her gun on Conner. “Move a muscle, and I’ll do more than shoot your foot,” she threatened.
I ran toward the house while Curtis helped his brother to their truck and tore out of the drive. I called 911 and pushed open the door to the house and hollered for Anna. I listened intently, but I didn’t hear a sound. I searched through the dingy house, which had a carpet that could stand a good shampooing, but Anna was nowhere to be found. It was then that I knew Conner must have put her somewhere where she wouldn’t be so easily discovered.
Before long, Trooper Sales came through the door with his service revolver clutched in his hand. “I can’t find that girl anywhere,” I informed him.
Just then, I spotted a door that led to the basement, and I made my way down the steep steps. I suddenly heard a whimper in the corner behind the furnace, and it was no surprise to me that I found Anna chained to the wall with handcuffs, as if she were some kind of animal. This made me mad enough that all I could think about was shooting that Conner again for good measure.
Trooper Sales released the cuffs, and Anna ran straight into my arms. I hugged her close, noticing the fresh bruise near her temple. “It’s okay. You’re safe now,” I murmured reassuringly.
“But he’ll be back.”
“No, he won’t,” Sales assured her. “We’ll be placing him under arrest once he gets his foot checked out at the hospital.”
Anna pulled away and asked, “What happened to his foot?”
It was then that I informed both her and Sales what had transpired outside—how El had shot Conner in the foot. I left out the part about the Hill boys. No sense in opening that can of worms, and I had them to thank. If it had been anyone else from the Militia there that day, El and I would have been goners.
I stared at the skimpy blanket co
vering the basement floor and the bottle of water sitting on it with a grimace. If we hadn’t found Anna in time, it’s no telling what might have happened to her. I helped Anna up the stairs, and we made our way outside, where the sheriff met us halfway. An ambulance was in the drive, but Anna refused to go to the hospital. Who could blame her, when Conner was being taken there?
“I hope you plan on keeping an eye on Conner while he’s at the hospital. I’d hate to think he’d get away to hurt Anna any further.”
“Not to worry,” Peterson assured me. “But I suggest Anna go to the Underground Railroad for safekeeping.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Anna agreed. “I think that’s a great idea. If I had gone there in the beginning, Conner never would have found me.”
“Don’t you dare blame yourself. But since you were still in town, it was only a matter of time, I suppose.”
Anna laid a hand on my arm. “It’s not like I don’t appreciate what you’ve done.”
“Oh, believe me, I know. I just wish I had heard that man when he came over and took you. That kid Chuck gave us the address here, so I guess we really have him to thank.”
Anna’s eyes widened. “I’d never thank him for a thing. He knew what Conner was doing to me, but he never said a word.”
I had to agree with her there, if that was the case. “He’s just a kid, though,” I reminded her. “A self-absorbed one at that. All he seems to care about is that tabloid and the mess it’s creating. Can you believe even though I told him why we were there, all he wanted to know about was how the treasure hunt was going?”
Sales nodded. “I believe that. I plan to call the FBI about that kid as it is. I was informed he has been banned from having a computer, but apparently, he has one. He has to in order to keep publishing that tabloid.”
“Maybe his parents aren’t aware of that,” I said, knowing full well that wasn’t the truth.
“I can’t believe they are that dumb. More like complacent. He could be growing marijuana down there for all I know. When you own a house, you just can’t get away with acting dumb about it—plus, you’re even more responsible as a parent. They’re responsible for what Chuck does until he’s eighteen.”
Madison Johns - Agnes Barton 05 - Treasure in Tawas Page 14
