“How’s the hip?” Lil asked. “You’re getting around better than I thought you would be.”
“Ha! I thought I’d be jumping hurdles by this summer. It’s been a hassle but it’s gradually improving.” Carol beamed at them both. “I’m so glad you guys could make it! Everyone is excited to see you.”
Max cocked one eyebrow at her. “Everyone?”
Carol chuckled. “Well…. Let’s go in and put your things in your rooms. I need your help to get things ready for the potluck tonight. Annie organized most of this, but of course she had to work today. Bob’s in the field, so you’ll see him later.”
Max snagged the regular guest room, decorated rather sedately in gray, beige, and pale yellow, while Lil drew the room usually reserved for the granddaughters. The Disney princess comforter alone would have been enough to nauseate Max.
They gathered in the kitchen, and Lil ordered Carol, “Give us jobs and the latest gossip.”
Carol gave her a sideways glance. “Do you even remember anyone? It’s been years since you’ve been here.”
“Annie’s wedding,” Max said. “No way to forget the bad feeling about the plant closing.”
Carol tied on a blue-checked apron and leaned on her walker with one hand as she pulled a large yellow bowl from the cupboard. “I’m afraid it’s about to be stirred up again. For one thing, Dutch Schneider is working on his memoir.”
“Good Lord,” Max said. “Is he still running the paper?”
“No, he retired last year. A young kid, Charlie Gomar, bought the paper and is the editor, photographer, feature writer, and ad man.”
“Is it still a biweekly?” Lil asked.
“Once a week—and he scrapes the bottom of the barrel to do that. It seems like half the paper is reprints from fifty years ago, seventy-five, a hundred—you know.”
Lil folded her arms and leaned against the cupboard. “But Dutch and Dad were really close. He wouldn’t write anything bad about us.”
Carol continued to assemble a bowl of coleslaw. “I’m sure he doesn’t want to. But this Gomar had an editorial a few months back accusing Dutch of suppressing documents saying that Dad had two offers for the company: one for less money but guaranteed to keep the Castleroll plant open, and one for more money and the buyer would relocate the plant. Dutch may feel he has to defend himself in his book.”
Max took the bowl from Carol to put in the fridge. “Sit down, and just tell Lil and me what you want us to do. Dad always said that he didn’t know the new owners planned to close the plant.”
Carol nodded and sat. “That’s what he said. I have no idea if anyone has seen these so-called documents.” She turned to Lil. “There are two apple pies in the freezer on the back porch. Would you get those, please, and we’ll put them in the oven.”
“Will do. Even if that’s true, it would have been sort of selfish of Dad, but not illegal. He had a right to accept the best offer.” Lil stepped out on the small back porch and opened the freezer to retrieve the pies.
While she put them in the oven, the back door opened and Carol’s husband, Bob, walked in. He was a tall, lanky Gary Cooper type with laughing eyes and skin leathered by years in the fields.
“Take your shoes off,” Carol called to him. “I’ve already mopped the kitchen.”
“What? You cleaned just for your relatives?” He gave Lil and Max a wink. “I’ll wait until after my shower to give you a hug, ladies, but for now, welcome.” He gave them his infectious grin and wiped the sweat off his brow.
“We’ll accept that condition, Bob,” Max said.
Carol snapped him with a dishtowel as he slipped through the kitchen, and then turned to her sisters.
“We need to get the tables ready, too. Max, on the top shelf of that cupboard are plastic table cloths, plates, and so on. You’ll probably need the step stool.” Carol pointed to one leaning in the corner.
Lil and Max hauled the tableware outside while Carol clumped behind them with her walker. They spent the next half hour covering picnic tables that had been arranged in a long line.
Lil paused to take in the high sailing clouds and the light breeze. “A beautiful day for this.” She turned to Carol. “If things are heating up again about the plant closing, why did Annie want to do this reunion and, especially, why here in Castleroll?”
Carol sighed. “Annie has always been adamant that the later generations had no part in the plant closing, and no rumors are going to run her out of town.” She gave them a sheepish smile. “She’s pretty stubborn. And she thinks I’m a coward for trying to avoid the subject and hiding behind Bob’s family name.”
Lil put her arm around Carol’s shoulders. “Well, let’s put it aside for now. At least we know it should be a friendly crowd tonight. Do you want us to set up serving tables?”
Carol gave direction from the patio. “Yes, thanks. There’re two long folding tables in the shed. I thought we’d put the food tables on the patio. There’s a couple of outlets there for anything that needs plugging in.”
Bob came out to help, looking refreshed, and they busied themselves getting the rest of the setup done. They finally stood back to admire the results and congratulate each other. The patio was well shaded, and the aqua and yellow plaid tablecloths brightened the space. Max had organized a beverage table in one corner, although Carol squelched her suggestion that they order a keg.
By the time they finished, Annie had arrived with her husband and three young children in tow. Other cars pulled in and parked in an open field across from the house. Lawn chairs and foil-covered dishes emerged from trunks. Although Lil’s son Terry could not make it from Pennsylvania, her daughter Georgiann arrived from the Cities where she played in the Minnesota Symphony.
“Mom!” Georgiann said. “When are you coming up for a concert? I sent you the fall schedule—did you get it?”
“Yes, yes, I did. Max and I are talking about going to see Terry in the early fall and we could swing back up this way on our way home. Do you have room for us in your new place?”
“We are?” Max said.
Lil waved off her question. “I mentioned it.”
The fourth and youngest sister, Sharon, and her husband, Harold, arrived with their granddaughter Chelsea. Max took in Chelsea’s face. She had been in and out of drug rehab, and she might be headed back. Soon.
“Are Ernie and Kim coming?” Lil asked Sharon.
“Yes, they’re not far behind us.” She lowered her voice and leaned over to Lil. “Chelsea’s not getting along with them very well.”
Lil nodded. The reason was obvious, and she didn’t really blame Chelsea's parents. “How about your other boys?”
“They can't make it.”
By the time they arranged the food on the serving table, family members were lined up on both sides. Mothers balanced extra plates for their young ones and older kids looked askance at the offerings.
Guests oohed and aahed over traditional dishes—green beans in mushroom soup topped by canned French fried onions, meat loaf, and Grandma Jacobsen’s potato salad. Some picked at the roasted beet Greek salad and looked suspiciously at the squash and spinach lasagna, considered exotic entries at a Minnesota potluck, while others forged ahead and threw caution to the winds.
After supper, Max managed to get the group lined up for photos. Georgiann was a good amateur photographer and able to get some decent shots using a tripod and the timer on her camera.
They all cleaned up the food and rearranged chairs for visiting. Adults bounced infants, who alternated between being alarmed and consumed with giggles over that activity. Donnie Jacobsen’s latest pyramid scheme and Harold and Sharon’s condo in Florida were popular topics. Older children chased each other around the farmyard, ignoring admonishments from parents to finish their suppers and not run with sticks. Rosie was in her element, trying to keep up with the kids.
By the time the sun set, the adults had gathered on the patio, closer to the beverage table, the youngest children
had been settled in makeshift sleeping arrangements, while the older ones played flashlight tag and something called ‘midnight ghost.’
Lil caught up with Georgiann’s love life and Max talked to Sharon about Chelsea’s problems. They exchanged stories about their childhood years in Castleroll--each more embarrassing than the last.
The conversation finally turned to the topic uppermost in their minds. Max opened a beer and took an empty chair next to her brother Donnie. Donnie was the youngest and, with four older sisters, grew up spoiled, in Max’s opinion.
“Carol tell you what Dutch Schneider’s up to?” Donnie asked.
“You mean about his memoir?” Max asked.
“That ungrateful turd!” Donnie exploded. “Dad bailed him out a couple of times from his gambling debts. More than I got.”
Max laughed. “Oh, Donnie, Dad bailed you out more than the rest of us put together.”
He spluttered and his face flushed. “When I was a kid, yeah, but I missed out on some big financial deals later because he wouldn’t back me.”
“Maybe because they weren’t good deals? He was a pretty sharp businessman.”
“He never gave me a chance!”
Maxine decided to change the subject. Donnie was never going to admit that he was a major screwup. “Whatever. What do you hear about Dutch’s memoir?”
“Just that he has memos showing that Dad could have sold the company for less money and kept it open. Bunch of crap.”
“Carol said that’s what the new owner of the paper claims. Does Dutch admit that he has these memos?”
Donnie shrugged, a little deflated. “Dunno.”
Time to change the subject again. “We stopped at Grant’s on our way here. They seem to be doing well. He says you and Janet don’t get out there often. You should—the kids are growing up fast.”
Donnie bristled. “I’m not retired like you. Can’t afford to go gallivanting around the country.”
Max sighed. She’d almost forgotten how annoying Donnie’s whining could be. “Right. Where are you staying this weekend?”
“That dumpy motel in town. Georgiann is at Annie’s and so are Sharon and Harold, Ernie and Kim, and their brat Chelsea. Carol’s full up out here, so I didn’t have much choice.”
Max turned to Bob who was sitting on her other side. “Where’s a good place to pick up the local gossip?”
“During the day? The coffee shop where Benton Oil used to be. And Barney’s on Fourth Street is popular.”
“Might have to check it out.”
Bob laughed. “Just don’t get in any fist fights. We don’t want to bail you out.”
Not long after, people began to pack up food and kids to make their way home or to temporary quarters. They would meet the next morning to watch the Midsummer Parade through Main Street.
Donnie was having trouble navigating, and Carol ordered him to leave his truck at the farm and let Sharon drop him off at the motel. He was spoiled, but used to being directed by his sisters, so he meekly let Harold lead him to their car.
Max and Lil ordered Carol to sit down while they cleaned up the supper remnants.
Lil wiped down the kitchen counters. “I don’t think there’s any hope that Donnie will ever grow up.”
“That’s probably our fault as much as his,” Carol said.
Max didn’t agree. “At some point, he has to take responsibility for himself.”
“I bet that’s why Janet didn’t come. She gets tired of taking care of him,” Lil said.
“Call me hardhearted, but I think the only reason he came was to try to sell his real estate scheme or whatever it is.”
Max collected the towels and took them in to the adjoining laundry room. When she returned, she called Rosie for one more trip outside. “Then I’m turning in. It’s been a long day.”
Chapter Three
Saturday morning, Max and Lil took their coffee out to the patio while Carol showered. The morning promised another beautiful day. They discussed the gathering the previous night. Max relayed all of Donnie’s complaints, and Lil shared what she had picked up from their sister Sharon.
“That Chelsea—what a heartache. She just got out of rehab a week ago and Sharon is pretty sure she’s using again.”
“Sharon needs to get more involved,” Max said. “Her parents have let that girl run wild, and they’re in way over their heads.”
“That’s what I told her. I said—” Lil stopped and looked up as Carol came to the door. Max jumped up to help with the walker while Carol negotiated the two steps. She pulled her cell phone out of her robe pocket, and her usually tan face was as pale as the white blossoms on the mock orange bush blooming by the door.
Lil studied her face. “You’re upset about something.”
“They found Dutch Schneider dead this morning.” Her voice cracked. “He was murdered.”
“What?” Maxine sat forward in her chair, bumping the side table and spilling her coffee.
Lil said, “Oh, my heavens!”
Carol collapsed in another chair. She gripped the phone and just nodded at them.
Max regained a little of her equilibrium and mopped up her spill with her napkin. “Murdered? How?“
“Stabbed with something.” Carol held up the phone. “Annie called and that’s what she said: stabbed with something. It must not have been a knife.” She shook her head, still trying to grasp the news. “They found him in the alley behind the newspaper office.”
Max looked at Lil. “You don’t suppose Donnie…” She couldn’t finish.
“Donnie? What do you mean?” Carol asked.
Max repeated Donnie’s comments about Dutch. “He was pretty drunk when he left here.”
“That’s why I had Sharon drop him at the motel.” Carol looked around the corner of the house. “His truck’s still here. But I don’t believe for a minute that he would do that.”
Max wasn’t so sure but kept her opinions to herself, for once. “Dutch didn’t have any family, did he?”
“Just a niece in the Cities.”
Lil said, “Murder! Here in Castleroll? I can’t believe it.”
“I don’t think there is much question,” Carol said.
Max got up to clean up her coffee mess. “This will put a damper on the parade. I assume they’ll still have it.”
Carol nodded. “Yes, lots of people in town for it and investments in the floats. They’ll go ahead. I’d better go get dressed, and then I’ll fix us a light breakfast before we go to town.”
“That isn’t necessary,” Lil protested.
Carol waved her off. “It’s done. I made a coffee cake yesterday and there’s fresh fruit left from last night. If you want more than that, you’re on your own.”
After they dressed and shared their breakfast, Bob loaded lawn chairs and Carol’s walker in the trunk of the Studebaker.
Max held out the keys to him. “If you quit drooling on the seats, I’ll let you drive it to town.”
“Can I? Can I?” Bob said in his best sixteen-year-old imitation.
Annie had earlier roped off an area for the family in front of the old drug store—now the Get Potted pottery shop. Just as they reached the area, a man pushed one of the stanchions out of the way and dropped the rope, kicking it out of the way. He looked up at them, surprised at first, and then frowned.
“You people don’t run this town any more!” He stomped off.
The sisters looked at each other, and Lil moved the other stanchion and coiled up the rope. “A little late, but at least we won’t antagonize anyone further. Do you know that guy?” she said to Carol.
“Cecil Ridley. Does odd jobs around town. He hasn’t had a regular job since the plant closed.”
Annie arrived shortly, along with her kids, husband, and guests. Carol explained what had happened to the rope. Annie just grimaced and said, “Good Lord. What next?”
Confusion reigned while they set up and rearranged more chairs. Then they settled like a flock of b
irds.
Annie pulled her toddler onto her lap. “Anyone seen Donnie this morning?”
“His truck’s still at my place, but we haven’t seen him,” Carol said.
Annie leaned forward after checking to see if anyone around them was listening. “The police came to our house looking for him.”
“He’s staying at the motel,” Max said.
“That’s what I told the cops, but they said he isn’t there.”
Max pushed a strand of gray hair behind her ear. “Maybe he went somewhere for breakfast. He still has a lot of buddies around here
“Probably trying to sell them his latest scheme.” Carol grinned.
Annie’s handsome husband, Dirk, laughed. “What is he selling, anyway? I avoided him last night.”
“Some kind of wholesale marketing club, from what I understand,” Bob said.
“Huh,” Max said. “Shows you how much I listen to his blathering. I thought it was real estate or something.”
As the start time neared, people spilled out from the sidewalk into the street, trying to get a glimpse of the first marchers. A deputy strode down the street urging the crowd back onto the sidewalk.
Max got up and dashed into the street, shading her eyes and peering down the street as if she was looking for the parade. As she stepped in front of the deputy, she twisted her ankle and started to go down. The deputy grabbed her arm and helped her to right herself.
“You all right, ma’am?”
“Yes, yes. Thank you.”
He helped her hobble back to her chair. She thanked him again as she bent to rub her ankle.
“I’m sorry to take your time. I’m sure you’re busy, looking for that murderer. We don’t want anybody else to get shot, do we?” The deputy didn’t notice Lil roll her eyes at Carol.
“Shot? No one was shot, ma’am. There was a man found dead this morning, but it looked like he was stabbed with part of a TV antenna.” He shook his head at the folly of human beings—or at least murderers.
A drum cadence heralded the approach of the parade color guard. “I’d better go. You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, thank you.”
The Mystery Sisters series Box Set Page 2
