Scandal in Tawas
An Agnes Barton Senior Sleuths Mystery
Madison Johns
Copyright © 2017 Madison Johns
Scandal in Tawas Madison Johns
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Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Blurb
TAWAS IS ABUZZ WITH activity, thanks to a book signing right here in town. Actress Sara Knoxville isn’t just the author of a newly released Hollywood “tell all” book; she’s the owner of the Butler Mansion. But her readers soon feel a little cheated when a key page is missing from the book, which spurs Agnes and Eleanor into detective action.
Their sleuthing becomes more complicated when a cameraman and his assistant begin following them around town, recording their every move at the suggestion of movie director Roman Douglas. Hey, Agnes and Eleanor might even get their own reality show. If only Agnes didn’t have to investigate from a wheelchair, thanks to a sprained ankle.
Then Sara and some of her Hollywood friends disappear, causing the case to take a much more serious turn.
Will Agnes and Eleanor be able to find Sara and her friends before it’s too late?
Chapter One
ELEANOR AND I SAUNTERED along the sidewalk, watching Lake Huron from a distance. I pushed my sunglasses up as I admired sunny skies and calm lake. Why, there wasn’t even a wave in sight.
I was glad I had dressed in pale blue capri pants and a flowing blouse to catch the wind. Eleanor, on the other hand, had herself stuffed into a sundress imprinted with daisies. Fortunately, people in town knew better than to comment on anyone’s rolls. I knew it would be fighting words if I dared suggest Eleanor find something that fit her better. The truth was I didn’t care what people thought about Eleanor, my partner in crime. Why, it could even be said that members of the senior population here in Tawas couldn’t give a fig less what people thought of them, either. Like I often say, “I worry less about what people think and more about what I’m having for lunch.”
As we walked along, the sidewalk became crowded and I had to stop when a line ahead of us wasn’t moving.
“What’s going on here?” I asked Eleanor.
She shrugged. “Beats me.” She then tapped on the shoulder of a bikini-clad woman ahead of us. “Excuse me, can you tell me what’s going on here?”
“The actress Sara Knoxville is in town. She’s signing books today at the entrance to the state dock.”
“What book is that?”
“She wrote a tell-all book about her life in Hollywood. I can’t wait to buy a copy. I wonder if she ever hooked up with Brad Pitt.”
“That’s a bit of a stretch,” I said. When the woman gave me a narrow-eyed look, I continued, “I can’t imagine every actress in Hollywood knows Brad Pitt. They hardly have the same kind of roles.”
“Well, I love Sara Knoxville’s movies.”
I whipped back a strand of my salt and pepper hair. “Oh, yes. You must mean all those movies about the bride, or the one about the bridesmaid. She certainly has had some great performances, even if no awards.”
“If you don’t like Sara’s movies, then why are you in line?” the woman asked pointedly.
I shrugged. “I wasn’t in line. We were just going for a stroll.”
“But now we’re in line to see Sara,” Eleanor said with a wicked grin.
“We don’t need to see her now. We know her personally,” I bragged.
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Come along, Agnes. We’ll have to bypass the line.” Eleanor proceeded to elbow people out of the way. “Excuse me, two old ladies trying to get through.”
I pursed my lips. Strange how the word old doesn’t pass Eleanor’s lips unless it’s to her benefit.
I ignored the protests from the crowd as we squeezed in to see Sara after the lady she was speaking to left with book in hand.
Sara was dressed in a pastel sundress with pink flowers sewn on. It was quite eye catching.
“What brings you ladies here? Not another murder at the Butler Mansion, I hope.”
“I’d say no, since we haven’t been there in quite a while,” I said. “Is that really a tell-all book?”
“Of course it is.” She winked. “Sorry but I’ve never met Brad Pitt or George Clooney.”
“Well, then, it’s not worth reading.” Eleanor laughed with a bouncing of her belly.
“I have plenty of stories about which directors still believe in casting couches,” Sara said.
“Is that all? I expected to learn something much more scandalous than that.”
“Don’t worry. There are plenty of scandalous stories in the book.”
“Stories, eh?” I asked. “Are any of them true ... the stories, I mean?”
“You’ll have to read the book to find out.” Sara quickly signed two books and handed them to us. “Happy reading.”
“So you’re going to give us copies?” Eleanor asked suspiciously.
“Why not? It’s not like we’re strangers.”
“I suppose not. I hope to be invited to an-after party, if there is one,” I said.
Sara smiled. “I’ll call your husband and tell him to give you the directions.”
Eleanor and I walked off, but we didn’t get that far as Eleanor already had her nose stuck in her book. “Oh, this chapter is labeled Little People. Can you even say that anymore?”
“I’m really not sure, but I believe there’s a show called Little Women. It must be okay if Sara has an entire chapter on it.”
“You’re probably right,” Eleanor agreed.
“Are there any other chapters that interest you?”
“Why don’t you look yourself. You have your own copy in your hands.”
“I know but I’m paying more attention to walking, and you, dear, are not.”
“Fine, then.” Eleanor rustled pages. “Oh, here’s a tasty chapter, The Affair.”
Eleanor and I made a beeline for a bench and hovered over the chapter, quickly scanning it.
“She had some scandalous affair,” I said. “Turn the last page to find out who the mysterious man is ... the last page is missing in my book.”
Eleanor thumbed to the back of her book. “It’s missing in my book, too. How can that be?” She moved more pages. “Page two hundred is missing, too!”
I frowned. “Is it possible there was a misprint?”
“Or perhaps only our books have missing pages.”
“How will we know for sure, I wonder?”
“We could ask Sara if she wasn’t so busy right now.”
Eleanor’s eyes lit up. “I know! We could ask someone else who has a copy of the book.”
We tried to flag down two young ladies who hurried past like we were wielding knives. We shrugged and headed for a woman who was reading her copy of the book as she walked along.
“Excuse me, but could we take a quick look at your book? Our copies seem to be missing a page.”
The woman looked down her nose at us. “I don’t know wha
t that has to do with me?” she asked. “Kindly remove yourselves from my presence.”
“Who do you think you are, talking to us like that?” Eleanor asked, before I dragged her down the sidewalk. I didn’t want a fist fight to ensue.
I smiled as I waltzed over to another woman, who seemed much more approachable. “Hello, could we take a peek at page two hundred of your book? Ours seem to be missing.”
The young woman held the book tightly to her chest. “You want to look at my yoga book?” she asked, showing us the cover.
“Sorry.”
I had just turned when I saw Eleanor was playing tug of war with a book with a woman I recognized from the library counter.
“It’s my book!” the librarian said.
“Stop it, Eleanor!” I shrieked. “Otherwise you may lose your library card!” I said.
“What kind of dirty bird do we have as a librarian in town, anyway?” Eleanor huffed.
“Uh, I think we could all be called that for wanting to read the juicy details of Sara’s secret confessions.”
“Except that we got shortchanged with our books,” Eleanor said.
“What?” the librarian said, as she jerked her book out of Eleanor’s hands and darted away.
“What’s going on here?” Sheriff Peterson asked, as he approached with a notable frown. “Please tell me you’re not the women people have been calling about.”
I puffed up my chest. “I suppose that depends on what the chief complaint is.”
“Trying to steal that Sara Knoxville’s tell-all book.”
“We have our own copies, see?” Eleanor said.
Peterson narrowed his eyes. “I wonder. I mean, I’ll be watching you two,” he said, strolling away with a noticeable limp due to the boot cast he wore on his leg, thanks to a recent car accident.
I walked nonchalantly across the parking lot over to where I spotted a man who had his back turned to us ... his book out in the open. I swooped in like an angry seagull and snatched the book, quickly turning pages. The man cleared his throat, trying not to laugh. “What on earth are you doing, Mother?”
I looked up over the book. “Looking for page two hundred, Stuart, why do you ask?”
“You want to read an electrical manual?”
My face fell and Eleanor grabbed the book and checked out the cover and laughed. “He’s pulling your leg, or ours. I had no idea you’d make an appearance all the way to Tawas just to get a signed copy of an actress’s book.”
“You better say you came here to visit your dear mother.”
“The book belongs to Moraine ... you know, my wife?”
“I’m perfectly aware of who she is. Where is she, anyway?”
“Didn’t you at least check the book, Agnes?” Eleanor asked. “We can ask about Moraine later.”
“How could I when you grabbed the book away.”
“Oh, yeah.” Eleanor proceeded to scroll pages and frowned. “Well, this is some mystery. It’s missing page two hundred, too.”
“I’m sure you could just ask Sara.” Stuart winked. “Oops, it looks like security is escorting her to a limo.”
“Probably because people were upset about the missing page.” I nodded. “She’ll have angry readers on her hands now.”
“Except you’re the only one who has been complaining about a supposed missing page,” Stuart said.
“That’s because they haven’t had time to read it yet,” Eleanor said firmly.
“Missing page, you say?” Moraine asked, as she walked over and joined us.
“Yes, it’s in a scandalous chapter entitled, The Affair,” I explained.
“Please tell me she’s not really telling all?”
“That’s the way it seems. She was revealing the name on the next page. So you can understand why we’re upset.”
“How many books are missing the page?”
“That’s what we need to find out.”
“Oh, no, a mystery of literary proportions.” Stuart laughed until Moraine elbowed him in the ribs.
I smiled then. “It’s nice to see you both.” I enfolded Stuart into my arms and didn’t let go until he cleared his throat. “Mother, I can’t breathe.”
I released him and gave Moraine a quick hug.
“So, what brings you two to town?” I asked. “I hope there isn’t a federal crime being committed here.” When Stuart and Moraine exchanged a knowing look, I added, “Of course I know you’d never tell me.”
“Actually, this is strictly a social visit. Martha called and told me all about the actress’s book signing.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Henry Winston invited us to stay at his beach house. Tony and his partner Henry are going to Bermuda to do research for his next espionage book. He’s quite talented.”
“How great. The beach house has a lovely view and is so spacious.”
“Henry will have the cleaning lady coming in daily. I’m afraid he thinks we’re slobs.”
“Well, one of us is.” Moraine grinned.
“I hope to catch up with Curt and Curtis Hill while I’m in town. I really like those boys. I’m planning on a fishing trip since Martha’s boyfriend Adam has a charter boat,” Stuart said.
“I’m still waiting for an invitation,” I replied, thinking that my daughter Martha could at least include me in such an outing.
“When was the last time you even went fishing, Agnes?” Eleanor asked.
“When my children were young, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to go again.”
“This I have to see,” Stuart said.
My Andrew and Eleanor’s husband Mr. Wilson approached with a clattering of Wilson’s push walker wheels.
“It’s about time you two show up. I was just trying to put together a fishing trip,” Stuart said. “Are you game Andrew ... Wilson?”
“Oops, it looks like it’s a men’s only trip,” Moraine said. “That means they’ll be out of our way for Sara Knoxville’s party. I’d love to rub elbows with celebrities.”
“Do you think Sara will have some big Hollywood players at her party here?” I asked.
“Let’s hope so. It’s the least she can do since she won’t reveal who she had a big affair with.”
I loved how Moraine thinks.
“We should have lunch,” I said. “I’m famished.”
“Even though she just had a doughnut not long ago,” Eleanor told the crowd.
“That sounds good to me, too,” Stuart said. “I hope it’s going to be at B&C Pizza. I always look forward to going there whenever I’m in town.”
From the corner of my eyes, I noticed a man wearing a hoodie walking up the sidewalk. It screamed suspicious to me. I edged closer to intercept him, but he ran ahead and grabbed a woman’s purse, but before he made his getaway, I stuck out my leg and tripped him.
The man flew to the pavement with a thump and I retrieved the purse, hitting him with it for good measure.
“You should be ashamed of yourself, young man. Sheriff Peterson, there’s a purse snatcher over here,” I called out.
Trooper Sales, who happened to be married to my granddaughter Sophia, ran up and hauled up the man before he was able to flee. The fall had obviously knocked the wind out of him.
“Let me go,” the perp shrieked.
Bill yanked down the hoodie, revealing a girl of eighteen, if that.
“Are you kidding me?” Eleanor blurted out. “You’re a girl.”
“Good observation, grandma,” she said.
“You’re under arrest,” Bill said, as he cuffed her and hauled her off to his squad car with applause from the spectators.
A man wearing wide-rimmed black glasses walked over. “That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.” He then made a square with his fingers as if he was framing the moment. “Do you usually take on a perpetrator like that?” he asked me.
I straightened up to my full height and said, “Of course. I’m a private investigator and it was obvious t
o me that anyone who wears a hoodie outside in July is up to something. It wasn’t hard to trip up the perp. I just had no idea a young woman would commit a crime like that.”
“Private investigator? Are you playing a joke on me?” the man asked.
“No. I investigate crimes here in Tawas and help Sheriff Peterson with the cases when he lets me.”
“And when he doesn’t?”
“I investigate anyway. I have a very good track history of solving cases.”
“We do, she means,” Eleanor added. “We work together on cases.”
“That’s great. Do you have a card?”
I pulled out our pink “Ladies Detective” card and received one back from Hollywood Concept Agent Woody Wentworth.
“Thanks, I’ll give you a call soon.”
Eleanor and I shrugged when the man walked away.
“What an odd little man,” Eleanor said.
“Be nice,” I admonished. “I’ve obviously impressed the man.”
“Meaning?”
“I don’t know exactly why I said that.” My stomach rumbled. “We better get something to eat before I starve.”
Chapter Two
I GRINNED WIDELY WHEN two large supreme pizzas were delivered to our table. Stuart served a slice on each of our plates.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” Stuart said.
“I suppose you can’t have pizza like this delivered to a stake out,” I said.
“We don’t do stake outs,” Moraine began, “we work under—”
“Under the supervision of our supervisor,” Stuart said with a look.
“Don’t you dare shush up your wife like that, son. She can tell me anything she wants. I can’t imagine you’d be in the middle of a case if you took the time to visit me.”
“Not unless your covers were blown,” Eleanor suggested. “Of course that would be on the news, I suppose.”
“Or not, Eleanor. The only time you hear anything about the FBI on the news is when they thwart a terrorist plot or help solve a high-profile case.”
“Let’s talk about something else,” Stuart said stiffly. “I came here to relax.”
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