Merry Wrath Mysteries Boxed Set Volume III (Books 7-9) Page 12

  "I don't think we have time for this," Inez said. "We'll just have to go back without it."

  "We can't go back without it!" Betty screamed.

  I knew it. I knew she talked in italics.

  Lauren shrugged. "Why not? If we can't find it, how will the other teams?"

  "Maybe Mrs. Albers and Mrs. Wrath don't know what twine looks like?" Ava suggested. "We could substitute it with something else?"

  "I've got a pair of handcuffs," Betty said, pulling the manacles out of the back pocket of her shorts.

  "I think twine is like rope." Inez shook her head. "Let's find some rope."

  The girls took off down the sidewalk, and after a moment we followed them. Following someone was easy. People rarely suspected that they were being watched. Especially if they weren't spies.

  Following Girl Scouts, on the other hand, was hard. Every thirty feet or so, Lauren would turn around and look in our direction. Kelly and I became masters of hugging fences and trees at just the right moment.

  "Why does Betty have handcuffs?" Kelly hissed during a particularly long hiding session behind a bush.

  "I'd be more surprised if she didn't have handcuffs," I responded.

  We maintained a half-block distance from the girls as we crossed over into familiar territory—my neighborhood. We were two blocks from my house.

  I know this might come as a bit of a surprise, but I don't really know much about my neighborhood. Yes, I used to be a spy, and of course spies have to know the area better than they know their own house. But I didn't.

  Exercise like walking or jogging wasn't really my line. And even though I grew up here and could find all the landmarks, I hadn't taken time to look into my own neighborhood. Seemed like sloppy work on my part.

  "Hey!" Kelly whispered and pointed to a ranch house that looked like mine. "That's the other address for Ike Murphy's house!"

  "How do you know that?" I asked.

  "I told Robert that we found what we thought was your body's house. He told me he knew Ike and where he lived."

  "My body?" I asked, a little offended.

  Kelly nodded. "They're always your body. You find them."

  "I don't think that's fair. I didn't even know Ike."

  "Well, you found him, so he's your body," Kelly said.

  The girls paused in front of the house for a second before climbing the stoop and ringing the doorbell. We waited, knowing no one was home to answer. Eventually, the girls would give up and move on. Then maybe I could talk Kelly into checking it out.

  The door swung open, and a middle-aged woman looked from side to side before focusing on the girls.

  "Who's that?" Kelly breathed.

  I shook my head in surprise. "No idea."

  "Maybe she's related?"

  I stared at the large, middle-aged redhead who was glowering at the girls. "Edna Lou implied he was her only relative. I got the impression that Ike didn't have family."

  Betty asked if the woman had twine. She nodded, shut the door, and returned moments later with a whole ball that she told the girls they could keep. After some fist bumps and shouts of joy, the girls ran off, out of our line of sight.

  Kelly and I kept staring at the house. The idea of following the girls was over. In fact, I wasn't sure what surprised me most—that someone was there or that she had twine.

  "What should we do?" my best friend asked.

  I stood up and stretched. "Go over there, obviously."

  Kelly started to follow me. "And do what?"

  I grinned. "Find out what's going on. Come on."

  We stepped up to the house and rang the doorbell. And waited. And waited. And waited. I rang it again. Nothing happened. No one came to the door.

  "Maybe she's in the bathroom?" Kelly offered.

  "Or she's avoiding us." I hit the doorbell again.

  The woman we'd just seen never answered. The window was covered by drapes, so I made for the long driveway. No car. That was strange. We'd have seen if she'd driven away. I walked back to the garage and peeked in a window. No car in there either.

  There was a side door, so I knocked with pretty much the same result. Where had she gone? Had she slipped out the back after the girls left? Why would she do that?

  "Can I help you?" An elderly man came out of the house next door and walked over to us.

  I put on my most innocent smile. "We were looking for the lady who lives here."

  The stooped man looked confused for a moment. In spite of the summer heat, he was wearing a long-sleeved, plaid flannel shirt and a pair of khaki pants.

  "I think you have the wrong place. Ike Murphy lived here. And he died recently."

  "Oh? I was told that a woman lived here. Middle-aged? Maybe Ike's daughter?"

  The man threw back his head and laughed. "Ike? With kids? That's a good one! I can't wait to tell the guys at the café tomorrow. They'll love it."

  I pasted on a look of confusion. "He didn't have children? Maybe it was a niece?"

  He doubled over with laughter that turned into a severe coughing fit. Kelly, ever the nurse, patted his back and looked him over.

  "Nels Larson," the man said between wheezes as he tried to catch his breath. "I've been Ike's neighbor for fifty years. He never married and never had children. In fact, I think his only relative is Edna Lou Murphy. And she never married or had kids either."

  So, no niece. Who was that woman we'd seen talking to the girls?

  "We must've been mistaken." I said. "You knew Ike? Why is it funny for us to think he had kids?"

  "Come on inside," Nels insisted. "I need to take a pill."

  "That's very kind of you," Kelly said. "But we don't mean to impose."

  I nudged her with my elbow.

  "I don't get many visitors," Nels said. "This is the most excitement I've had in weeks. Come in." He turned and walked up the three steps to his side door, and we followed.

  The interior of the house was like mine, if I'd been trapped in a time warp from the 1970s. Everything was clean, but worn and outdated. Nels seated us at the kitchen table, and after taking a pill that would send a horse running in the opposite direction, he pulled a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and poured us each a glass before sitting down to join us.

  "You asked why I thought it funny that you thought Ike had family," Nels stated.

  I nodded.

  "Ike Murphy was a sorry sumbitch who didn't like anyone. No woman ever came near him, except for Edna Lou, his cousin."

  "Edna Lou, from the Historical Society," I said.

  "Yup." Nels nodded. "That's her. Last of their families, they are." He frowned at his glass of lemonade. "I mean were, in the case of Ike."

  I felt even sorrier for Edna Lou. How awful to be alone. I was an only child, and I had more family than she did.

  "You knew Ike well?" Kelly asked.

  "As well as anyone could. He kept to himself. Never had any interest in hanging out with the guys at the café. Mostly we just drink coffee and gossip."

  "Yes," I started. "But living next door to a man for all those years, you must have gotten to know him somewhat."

  Nels looked off into the distance, mouth open. He sat that way for a minute. I was afraid he'd slipped into a coma. One where you're sitting in your kitchen, holding a glass of lemonade. Finally he snapped out of it and gave me a look I couldn't decipher.

  "Oh, I knew him. He worked at the hardware store all his life. Loved local history. In fact, he and his cousin ran the local group." He took a long drink from his glass. "Talked to himself too. Always mumbled as he worked around the yard."

  Kelly and I leaned forward. "What did he talk about?"

  "Let's see…" Nels tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Well, usually it was his hatred of the paper boy." He looked at us. "Robby Billingsly." He shook his head. "Nice kid but lousy paper boy. Always tosses mine in my rose bed."

  "Is that why Ike didn't like him?" I couldn't bring myself to say "hate." Who hated a kid?

  "Nope
. He used to say that someday he'd be rich and he'd buy the paper and fire Robby. Well…he used to say that."

  I picked up the thread and began to pull. "Used to?"

  "The other day I heard him mumbling about gold. Told himself he had a couple of gold bars and soon he'd be able to buy this whole town."

  I held my breath. This was confirmation that Ike had found the treasure!

  "What do you think he was talking about?" Kelly pressed.

  "I don't know," Nels said. "But I've always wondered about that story about the missing Peters' fortune."

  This was it! "The missing fortune?" I asked. "Isn't that just a story?"

  "On no, missy!" He slapped the table, making me jump. "It's real alright! And I think Ike found it."

  "Where did he find it?" Kelly asked quickly.

  I shot her a look. These things had to be finessed. You couldn't just come right out with the big question.

  But Nels seemed happy and eager to impress. "I think he just found it recently. You know, it's funny. But Ike never had much use for modern things. But a couple of days before he was killed, I saw him talking to someone on a cell phone." He sat up straight. "Maybe that's the woman you're looking for! He said, 'You're my pretty, lucky penny!'"

  I frowned. "He said that to whoever he was talking to?"

  Nels nodded. "I even asked him why he had a cell phone all of a sudden, and he told me he had to talk to his girlfriend and that he was rich."

  My cell went off just as I was going to ask for more information. It was Emily.

  A voice exploded in my ear. "Mrs. Wrath! You and Mrs. Albers are missing! We're at the park, but you aren't here! Where are you?"

  I promised that we were on our way. We thanked Nels, and then Kelly and I ran across town to make it to the park before the parents noticed we weren't supervising.

  The teams were waiting for us, each with a plastic bag that looked full. Kelly took charge and had each team go through their bag, but I was miles away, wondering who Pretty Lucky Penny was.

  She had to be the woman we saw at Ike's house. I'd already decided the woman was still in the house when we knocked. Ike's conversation with her led me to believe her name might actually be Penny. Why else call her "Pretty Lucky Penny"?

  A gasp went up beside me, shaking me from my reverie. One of the Kaitlyns was holding up a living, wriggling garter snake.

  "The list says stake! Like you'd use for a tent!" Kelly shouted as she backed up.

  Kelly did not like snakes. In high school we'd been lab buddies. Someone (who shall forever be known as Kevin) had substituted a real, live snake for our real, dead one. When she'd put the scalpel to its skin, the reptile rose up and jumped at her.

  I'd never heard her scream so loud then or since. It had also been the first time Kevin had demonstrated the use of more than one brain cell.

  Kaitlyn tossed her snake into the grass, and as it slithered away, I saw two other groups let snakes out of their bags. In a way, I was proud. How many little girls didn't mind handling snakes?

  None of the first three groups was able to find twine. I thought about lording it over Kelly, but I knew what was coming up as Betty, Lauren, Ava, and Inez stepped forward with their bag.

  One by one, the girls did like the others, emptying the contents and holding them up for everyone to see. This group went a bit farther than the others, as they had, in fact, turned everything they found into weapons.

  The pinecones leaves, or whatever they're called, were sharpened, making it look like a spiny grenade. We also had a twig sharpened into a kind of spear, a rock that had been chipped into a hatchet head, and a dandelion chain that resembled a garrote.

  I wanted to award them extra points for taking the scavenger hunt to the next level. Although I wasn't sure Kelly would like that.

  At long last Betty dramatically unveiled the pièce de la résistance—the holy grail—the ball of twine. The other girls gasped appreciatively as Betty fashioned that into a noose.

  "Betty," I said once the presentation was over. "Can I talk to your group for a second?"

  The girls rolled their eyes at each other but joined me twenty feet away from the others.

  "At the house where you got the twine…" I began.

  Betty's eyes narrowed. "We didn't buy it. A lady gave it to us."

  "I didn't think you…"

  "You know that," Lauren said. "Because you were following us."

  My mouth shut as I tried to puzzle out an excuse. But then I realized that them knowing we'd seen them would work to my benefit.

  "I just wanted to ask you about the woman you got it from. Can you describe her to me?" To be honest, we were across the street at the time and probably missed something.

  Ava shrugged. "She was old. Maybe even older than you."

  "She wore a dirty T-shirt and shorts," Inez added. "And frizzy red hair."

  "She wasn't very nice," Lauren said.

  Betty scowled. "She was nice enough to give us a whole ball of twine."

  Lauren thought about that. "That's true. But she looked angry that we were there."

  Ava nodded. "But she must've lived there because she found the twine really fast."

  "Probably trying to get rid of us," Inez said. I ignored this. "Did you see into the house at all?"

  The four started talking all at once, and I had to use the Girl Scout quiet sign to silence them. I pointed to Betty.

  "It was dark in there, but I saw some furniture turned upside down."

  Inez spoke up. "I think she had a gun."

  We all looked at the girl.

  "It was in the back of her shorts when she turned around."

  The other girls thought this was a totally normal and acceptable explanation.

  "I didn't think it was her house," Lauren said. "It took her a long time to get the door open. Like she didn't know how the locks worked."

  "She knew where the twine was though," Ava repeated.

  I thanked the girls and sent them back to the others, who were in the middle of a game of tag. And thought about what I'd just heard. Penny was dirty, and the house was trashed. My guess was she was dirty from trashing it. Penny fiddled with the locks but knew where the twine was. She didn't live there, but was familiar with the place.

  Nels overheard Ike say he had a girlfriend and was rich. Which could only mean that Penny was his girlfriend and he'd found the gold. Well, that and because we'd found a gold bar at the Historical Society.

  And all of these clues added up to one fact—Penny had just become my top suspect.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  "Merry?" Mom asked through my phone.

  It was a few hours after the scavenger hunt. Rex had to work late, so I'd made a gourmet dinner of canned ravioli and a glass of wine. The wine made it gourmet, naturally.

  "Mom! You got my message? With the picture?" I set my fork down and grabbed the copy of the photo of young, not insane Mehitable Peters.

  "I did. Why did you send this to me?" she asked.

  I scrolled through my messages. I thought I'd texted her, but apparently I just sent the photo.

  "It's Mehitable Peters." I stared into the woman's eyes. "Mad Mimi."

  There was a moment of silence on the other end. That wasn't too unusual. Mom was working on a huge summer gala fundraiser at the Kennedy Center, and sometimes she was interrupted. I'd gotten used to her having to hit the mute button now and then.

  "I'm sorry, kiddo," Mom said. "Are you saying this is the woman who died in an axe accident years ago?"

  "Yes." I was surprised she didn't know that. "That's right."

  "Why did you send it to me?" Mom sounded genuinely puzzled.

  "I was wondering if we were related. Rex thinks it looks a lot like me." That was technically true.

  "Now that you say it," Mom said slowly. "I can see that. But I don't think we're related."

  "What about on Dad's side of the family?" My heart sank a little. Although why I was disappointed was beyond me.


  "Give me a few moments, and I'll call you back." Judith hung up.

  This was crazy. I was sure we weren't related. It wasn't that long ago, and Grandma Wrath would've told us if we were. The fact that I looked like Mimi was just a distraction from the real issues of her murder and Ike's.

  I traced Mimi's face with my finger. What happened to you?

  The cell rang, and I snatched it up. "Mom?"

  "Your father doesn't know," she said. "But he doesn't think so."

  "Does he know his mother's maiden name?" I asked.

  I heard her mumbling in the background. "He says his mother's name was McMurtry. Colleen McMurtry."

  I sat very still, afraid I hadn't heard correctly. A doorbell rang in the background.

  "I have to go, kiddo. The committee has arrived, and we have lots to do."

  We said our goodbyes and hung up. Mimi's face stared up at me. She'd died in 1911. Dad was born in 1966. His mother's name was Colleen McMurtry, and Peggy McMurtry was Mimi's long-lost cousin.

  Why had I never taken up genealogy? Wait! I remembered seeing an ad for a website. Pulling out my laptop, I got online and found it immediately. After paying with my credit card, I was presented with a little box for my name.

  I plugged in my name and birth date, and my parents', including Grandma Adelaide and the name Colleen McMurtry. I didn't know either woman's birth date, but according to the website, I should get a little branch figure when there were hints that would lead me to answers.

  Nothing happened. How long did it take to get a branch? Hours? Days? I didn't have that kind of time! Was there a way to hurry things up?

  Philby jumped up on the breakfast bar and stared at me while shoving the ravioli can onto the floor with a single swipe. Why did cats do that? Martini behaved herself, but Philby was offended when I put anything on a tabletop. She'd broken two mugs and four plates and littered the floor with silverware, glasses, and in one instance, forty-seven bullets. On that day, she'd pushed one bullet onto the floor. The minute I was up from grabbing it, she'd pushed another one off. This went on, you guessed it, forty-seven times.