The Mystery Sisters series Box Set

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The Mystery Sisters series Box Set Page 3

by Karen Musser Nortman


  As he left, Carol leaned over and said, “This is going to get worse. And obviously our small town police department doesn’t realize that they shouldn’t be giving out that kind of information. How’s your ankle? Do you want me to get your car?”

  Lil scoffed. “She faked that in order to pump that poor officer. And you are the last one who should go get anybody’s car.” She patted Max’s hand. “Good job of snooping. That antenna thing sounds like a frame job. I wish we knew where Donnie was.”

  “Did anyone try calling him?”

  “He’s not answering his phone,” Carol said.

  The color guard appeared, flags snapping. Two of the guard looked to be Korean or Vietnam War veterans and had difficulty keeping up, in step, and maintaining a military posture. The other three—two men and a woman—were younger and wore camo uniforms more typical of Afghan or Iraq war vets.

  Units of the American Legion and the VFW followed with their own banners. Behind them, the Castleroll high school band in shorts and purple tee shirts struggled through the opening fanfare of “The Washington Post March.” Spectators got to their feet, moved by the sentiment rather than the quality of the music.

  “Wow,” Max said. “I wish we could have worn shorts and tee shirts when we were in band.”

  “I don’t know. I thought our uniforms were pretty sharp. All of that gold braid on the jackets and the stripe down the pants. Those outfits look kind of sloppy.” Lil pointed at the last ranks of drummers.

  Max scoffed. “Easy for you to say. You were a baton twirler and had a sleeveless top and short skirt. Those uniforms were hot.”

  Lil sighed and turned away to watch the line of hayracks, disguised with crepe paper and signs lettered with magic markers. One carried twenty or thirty dance students—all young girls in bright colored tutus and leotards. They resembled dolls with their overstated makeup, but they enthusiastically waved and threw candy into the crowd.

  Another, sponsored by the local bank, featured bank staff dressed as forest sprites. Several other floats were designed by 4-H clubs and centered around the theme of summer fun with bicycles, kids in swimsuits, balloons, and one giant ice cream cone. The Lions, the Rotary, and other clubs and businesses had their own entries.

  The last float held the Solstice Sweethearts: five young women wearing flower crowns and flowing pastel gowns. Fresh cut branches formed a canopy over them as they smiled, waved, and threw candy to the crowd. Following the floats, huge tractors, combines, cement mixers, and other massive machinery lumbered down the street. The drivers, too, threw candy, causing children to scamper into the street.

  The last entries in the parade were beautifully restored classic cars, many from the Fifties and Sixties. Carol leaned forward and yelled to Max “You should have driven your car in the parade!”

  Max shook her head. “I don’t think we need to draw any more attention—.”

  A rise in the noise from the crowd interrupted her.

  One more float came into view pulled by a pickup. A large tarp covered something in the center. In front of the Jacobsen family, the truck stopped and two people in jeans, hoodie sweatshirts, and Halloween masks jumped out of the bed. They climbed on the rack and pulled off the tarp. Gasps erupted from the crowd.

  In the center of the rack, a crude scaffold held a dummy swaying from a noose. A hand-lettered sign was fastened to the straw-stuffed shirt.

  Lil squinted at the apparition. “What does it say?”

  “I can’t tell. It’s sideways,” Max said. Then the breeze swung the dummy around to face them. The sign said ‘George Jacobsen.’

  The deputy who had talked to them earlier jogged up to the driver’s side of the truck, and from the looks of his wild gestures, directed the driver, also disguised by a mask, to get out of the parade and turn onto the next side street. Pronto.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Carol said, as she maneuvered her walker through the maze of lawn chairs. “I’m really sorry how this turned out.”

  Lil shook her head as she folded up chairs. “It certainly isn’t your fault. I just can’t believe that people have held a grudge this long.”

  Annie helped her mother with the walker. “I guess we should have held the reunion somewhere else. I’m sorry, too, that we’re getting this kind of reception. I planned to suggest lunch at Nancy’s Diner but let’s go to our house and order pizza.”

  Max watched them pack up and thought how isolated she had been from the fallout from the plant closing. She had left after high school for college and then took a job as a botany professor in Colorado. Most of her close friends had left right after high school, too, so when she went home, it was only for a day or two, and she spent that time with family. Later, her parents came to visit her, rather than the reverse, and then they retired to Florida where their mother died eight years ago and their father five years after that.

  She put her hand on Carol’s arm. “You—Mom—Dad—none of you even hinted about the backlash you were getting.”

  Carol shrugged. “You know Mom. She didn’t want anything to mar your visits and our time together.”

  “I feel terrible.”

  Lil joined them. “Me too.”

  “Don’t,” Carol said. “Like I said, this has just blown back up lately. Come on, let’s go to Annie’s and we can talk about it there.”

  Annie’s twins, six-year-old Paige and Garth, begged to ride in Max’s car, so Bob and Carol rode with Sharon. The twins’ blonde heads bounced in the back seat as they interrupted each other in their eagerness to point out local attractions along the way. Their questions about the car proved a welcome distraction from the stresses of the morning and made Max and Lil laugh all the way to their home. Annie and Dirk lived on the outskirts of town in a classic Victorian, freshly painted a mossy green with ivory and brown trim. The kids raced to the house. Each wanted to be the one to tell their mother about the ride.

  Chapter Four

  Annie was on the phone when they walked in. She kept her head ducked, the phone to one ear, and a hand covering the other, trying to hear over the twins’ excitement. When she hung up, she motioned Carol out in the kitchen. Lil and Max followed.

  “Sorry to be so slow,” Carol said over her shoulder.

  “Not a problem. What is it?” Lil asked Annie.

  Annie looked a little annoyed at the entourage but only briefly. “That was Sheriff Burns. They found Donnie in the back seat of Dutch’s car, passed out. They arrested him for the murder and have him in jail.”

  “Oh, no!” Carol said.

  Lil’s mouth dropped open. “What the hell?”

  “That idiot,” Max shook her head.

  Annie scanned their faces. “Do you think he did it?”

  Max scoffed. “Of course not! It would take too much planning for Donnie.”

  Annie threw her arms around Carol, nearly knocking over her walker. “Oh, Mom, this was such a bad idea. Why didn’t I let you talk me out of having this reunion here?”

  Carol patted her back and pulled out a kitchen chair to sit down. “It isn’t your fault, dear. Donnie always had a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Well, we’ll need to get him a lawyer,” Max said. “Carol, is Henry Larsen still practicing?”

  “No, he retired, but his son Ted took over. Annie, can you bring me the phone and a phone book?”

  They sat quietly while Carol talked to the lawyer. After she hung up, she said, “He doesn’t do criminal law but recommended someone from Prairie City. He’ll make the contact for us.”

  “That’s nice of him,” Lil said.

  Max waved the praise away. “Dad pumped plenty of money into that firm. They handled all of the company’s legal business.”

  Lil sighed and frowned at her sister. “Whatever. You’re certainly in a mood today.”

  Max’s face tightened. “I don’t know why. A family friend was murdered, our brother arrested for it, our dad hung in effigy in a public parade, and t
he whole town seems to be out to get us. Why would that make anyone crabby?”

  Lil leaned her chin on her hand and looked out the window.

  Carol looked at Annie. “We’d better get some pizza ordered. Shall I find out what the kids want?” She reached for her walker.

  “Sit still,” Max said. “I’ll do it.”

  After she left, Lil looked at the others with tears in her eyes. “How can she be so heartless? She’s such a bitch sometimes.”

  Carol shook her head. “It’s her way of dealing. I’m surprised you two travel together so much.”

  That brought a little smile. “It gets a little tense at times, but eventually blows over.”

  Sharon walked in, carrying Annie’s youngest.

  “What’s going on?”

  Carol brought her up to date on the events.

  When she finished, Sharon asked, “What are we going to do?”

  “Hank Larsen’s son Ted is getting him an attorney from Prairie City.”

  Max returned. “They all want pepperoni so that’s easy.”

  Carol held up her hand as her phone rang. She answered, said “Yes,” “I see,” “Okay,” and hung up. “That was Ted Larsen. He said that the fellow he’s trying to get hold of is on the golf course. Saturday, of course. So it could take a while to contact him.”

  Max nodded. “While you guys are taking care of lunch, I’m going to run down to the jail and see if I can visit Donnie—let him know what we’re trying to do for him. What time is the tour this afternoon?”

  Annie said, “It’s supposed to be at 1:00—should I postpone until 1:30?”

  Max shook her head. “We’d have to get hold of everyone, and that would take the time we’d gain. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve talked to him. If they won’t let me in because it’s lunch time, I’ll go back later.”

  After she went out the door, Carol put her hand on Lil’s arm. “See? She’s not as heartless as she pretends to be.”

  The jail consisted of four cells at the back of the courthouse. Castleroll was the county seat, even though Prairie City was in the same county and much larger. Maxine made the request to see her brother and filled out a visitor’s form.

  When a deputy brought Donnie in to the visitor’s room, and Max saw his handcuffs and the orange jumpsuit, a terrible sense of defeat washed over her. She had let her parents down. Donnie was basically a self-centered brat who never had to take responsibility for his own mistakes.

  Often she wanted nothing more than to shake him until he could see someone else’s problems for a change. But he was her only brother, and as the eldest, she had always been expected to look out for the younger ones. The whole family had spoiled him, which was most of the problem. However, she couldn’t shake the weight of her own responsibility.

  Donnie’s eyes were at half-mast, his face sagging and flushed, and he needed a shave. He sighed when he sat down, and she caught the reek of bad breath. She involuntarily turned her head away.

  His voice was pleading. “Max.”

  She turned back and looked at him in disgust. “What? What, this time, Donnie? I suppose none of this is your fault?”

  He shrugged and hung his head. “I don’t ’member. I need a lawyer.”

  “Can you pay for one?” She wasn’t going to let him off easy. “Maybe we need to get someone appointed by the court.”

  He turned and stared at the grubby institutional green wall. “I guess.”

  Max sighed. “Never mind. I talked to Hank Larsen’s son Ted. He doesn’t practice criminal law but recommended someone from Prairie City. What happened after Sharon dropped you off last night?”

  Another shrug. “I don’t know.”

  “Think! You obviously went out again, but you didn’t have your truck.”

  He jumped a little at her angry voice and ran his hand through his curly hair. “J. P. and some of the guys came by, I think. They wanted to go out to the lake—had a couple of twelve packs. Don’t get them in trouble.”

  She slammed her hand on the table. “Dammit, Donnie—this isn’t high school. You’re sixty years old and charged with murder. Who else besides J. P.? We’ll need to talk to them and hope one of them was sober enough to remember events.”

  “Um, we were at Pete Murphy's place. I don’t remember who else. I fell asleep in the grass out at the lake.”

  “You don’t remember how you got in Dutch’s car?”

  “No idea.”

  “Did you see or talk to Dutch at all last night?”

  “Don’t think so.”

  Maxine got up from her chair. “You’d better start thinking, and fast. The lawyer should be here sometime this afternoon and he—or she—will need answers if they’re going to do anything for you.”

  “Um, can you girls post bail if the judge sets it?”

  “No, we can’t—or won’t. Same difference as far as you’re concerned. I’ll be back later.”

  She didn’t turn to look at him as she went out, because she knew she would have to go back and give him a hug if she did.

  By the time she returned to Annie’s, they were loading up cars for the afternoon tour. The old Jacobsen Antenna plant stood just a block off Main Street and consisted of a main building where assembly had taken place, a medium-sized warehouse, and a small office building. After the conglomerate closed the plant, it sat empty for ten years.

  George Jacobsen bought the property back and the town buzzed with the possibility of a reopening, but nothing ever happened. The warehouse had been sold to a local fertilizer company, the office building was falling down, and the plant continued to sit empty.

  While they waited for the caretaker, Annie told the group, “One of the decisions we need to make this weekend is what to do with this building. It’s been for sale, and we’ve had no interest. The City says we need to tear this and the office down if they aren’t going to be used.”

  A pickup pulled in and a young man jumped out. He smiled at them and greeted Carol and Bob. Carol said, “This is Trevor, Cheryl Jasper’s grandson. You remember Mother’s friend, Cheryl?”

  The older generation nodded and greeted Trevor. He walked to a side door on the loading platform and unlocked a padlock that allowed him to lift a bar and open the door.

  “How often do you check the building, Trevor?” Sharon asked.

  “About once a week,”

  They entered a large assembly room. All the machinery had been removed when George sold the plant. Windows along the south let murky light in the cavernous room and revealed broken cardboard boxes, rags, pieces of antennas, and some items that Max didn’t really want to identify that were scattered around the greasy cement floor. Offices with large grimy windows overlooking the plant floor lined one end of the area. A stairway in the corner led up to a mezzanine above the offices.

  Max eyed a pile of rags and old blankets in the corner. “Has someone been living here?”

  Trevor nodded. “A few months ago. That’s why I added the bar and the locks on the access doors, with Mrs. Harstad’s permission of course.”

  Lil looked around and wrinkled her nose at the musty odor. “There wasn’t a lock before?”

  “Yeah, but they kept breaking in. Kids at first, and then I think there’s been a couple of homeless people.”

  “It looks solid,” Sharon said, looking around the building. “But what would it be good for?”

  Carol shrugged. “That’s why we need input from the family.”

  “Obviously no business has an interest in using it. What about the school, or the city?” Max asked.

  Trevor said, “I have no idea.”

  “It’s big enough for some kind of recreation,” Ernie started, but was interrupted by a loud clang. “What was that?”

  Trevor seemed to turn pale. “Sounded like the bar on the door.” He rushed toward the door and tried to open it. He turned back to them with a look of panic. “We can’t get out.”

  “What about the other doors?” Max asked.
r />   “We had the same bars installed on all of the access doors. The overhead doors haven’t been opened in years. We can try.”

  Annie looked toward the bank of windows on the south. “We could break a window if we have to.”

  Kim looked at her phone. “We do have phone service. We’re not going to die here.”

  Annie’s twins had been chasing each other around the big empty room and came back just in time to hear part of Kim’s comment. “Die? We’re going to die here?” Paige asked. Her tone of voice didn’t carry much concern.

  Annie glared at Kim. “No, we aren’t going to die here. The bar fell down on the door, so we’ll either call for help or break a window.”

  Garth jumped up and down with excitement. “Can I break the window? Puleeze?”

  “It’s an adventure!” Paige shouted, spinning around.

  Max smiled at Trevor. “See? We adults just have the wrong attitude.”

  “We’ll check the other doors first,” Annie told Garth. “You kids stay with me.”

  “Good idea,” Carol grabbed Garth’s hand. “We don’t need any freelancers.”

  “What’s a free lancer?”

  “Never mind. Just stay with me.”

  “Aw, Grandma.” He tugged at her hand.

  “Lead on, Trevor,” Max said.

  The group trooped to three other doors with no luck. All were barred. Trevor led them to the big overhead doors that faced the loading dock. Even with several hands trying, they were unable to budge any of them.

  Trevor looked at them apologetically. “I’ll have to break a window.” He considered the older members of the group. “If I can get out, I’ll go around and unbar the door.”

  “Thank goodness,” Lil said. “Not a pretty vision of me trying to crawl through a window.”

  Garth jumped up and down. “I’ll break it! I’ll break it!” He raced ahead of them to the window side of the room.

  “Wait!” Annie called after him. “Let Trevor show you what to do.”

  Garth paused and looked uncertainly at Trevor, seemingly sure this guy was going to ruin his fun. Trevor motioned him over to a pile of trash in a corner.

 

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