Murder in the Boonies: A Sleuth Sisters Mystery (The Sleuth Sisters Book 3) (19 page)

After I told him everything, including how mad I was at Retta, Rory chuckled. “Nobody can accuse your sister of sloth.”

Unwrapping my silverware from my napkin, I laid the pieces where they belonged. “I can think of some other deadly sins she’s guilty of, pride being prominent among them. Because of her goofy idea, Farrell might realize we suspect him of being in on what McAdams was plotting.”

“I don’t think you can blame Retta for all of it,” Rory countered. “If Pansy’s right and Sharky had listening equipment, they’ve been keeping track of you before today.”

“Farrell!” I said. “He owns an electronics store, and he’s been in my office.” Colt Farrell’s visit seemed sinister now, where before I’d deemed it merely irritating. “As soon as I get home, I’m going to find the bug he planted while he was there.”

“Why would he do that?” Rory asked.

I counted my arguments on my fingers. “Ben disappeared, and they didn’t know where the weapon was. Whatever they’re plotting is imminent. Farrell learned Ben’s landlords run a detective agency, and he figured we’d be able to track Ben down. Pretending to be a concerned friend, he tried to hire us, but he gave me the creeps and I turned him down. That didn’t matter, because he brought along insurance--a listening device he planted in my office.” Anger coursing through me I added, “He’s heard everything we said for days!”

“Maybe not,” Rory replied. “If this Sharky character was listening in his car, it’s likely their device transmits just a short distance.”

“So they heard us when one of them was close enough to eavesdrop, but that’s all.”

“Yes.”

The waitress came with our food, and we waited until she placed it, stood back, and expressed her wish that we enjoy our meal. When she was gone I said, “That explains how they knew they should follow Faye to the cabin.”

“Easier than trying to find the place themselves. All they had to do was wait until she located the weapon and take it.”

We ate a little, but neither of us was in the mood to linger over dinner. When I finished half my meal, I set the napkin beside my plate. “If I find a device, should I bring it to your office?”

Rory chuckled. “No need. I’m coming with you.”

“We won’t be able to prove Farrell planted it even if we find one,” I said grumpily.

“We might tie the device to Farrell,” Rory said, “but you’re right. So far all the evidence we have points to Sharky.”

“And we don’t know who he is or where he is.”

“We’re a little closer, thanks to Sheriff Brill. He called that Guard colonel back and had him ask his people about Sharky as a nickname. A Richard Stark from Allport was on duty the weekend the weapon went missing. He and Ben served in the same unit when they were both full-time soldiers, so they’ve known each other for years. And his sergeant says Stark has a mouthful of pointy teeth, which might get a guy nicknamed Sharky, right?”

“Right.” I rose from my chair. “Let’s see if we can find that bug.”

Rory followed me to the house, where we went right to my office and began a search. At first we found nothing, but he encouraged me to replay Farrell’s visit in my mind and recall the things he’d touched. My gaze went to the pencil cup. Farrell had picked it up, ostensibly to read the quotation written on it, but now I suspected a different motive. Dumping the whole thing on my desk, I stood back as Rory sorted through the pencils, pens, and the odd paper clip with his own pen. There it was, a small device that looked a little like Grandma Harriet’s hearing aid. Rory wrapped it in some tissues from the box on my desk and put it into his shirt pocket, and I felt a little less violated. Colt Farrell and his buddies wouldn’t know what our next move was going to be. But then, neither did we.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Faye

Dale and I were watching TV in the den when Barb came home. I heard her voice and Rory’s deeper one coming from the office. When he left Barb went upstairs, but she didn’t settle down for a long time. I think sometimes that clever mind of hers refuses to quit and let her sleep. I’ve heard her leave in her car after midnight and come back hours later. When I asked her about it, she said she drives around until she feels tired. What is it she thinks about so much that she can’t sleep?

I learned the cause of that night’s sleeplessness the next morning when Barb told me she and Rory had found a bug in the office. That made me feel like spiders were walking on my neck. Why had someone done that? What had they heard? Even the most innocent comments I’d made seemed ill-advised at the thought that someone had been skulking outside our home, listening.

Barb and Rory were determined to find Sharky if possible. Since they had that covered, I offered to find out what I could about Floyd Stone. He worked for the post office, so I’d begin there.

The people at the Allport Post Office are cheerful, helpful, and efficient. Cheryl, the postmistress, knows me pretty well, since I do most of the mailings for the agency. I waited until other customers had been served then asked about Floyd Stone.

“He’s one of our carriers.” Checking the clock she said, “He’ll be back around four if you need to speak with him.”

“Actually, I wanted your impression of him.”

Her unusually high brow tightened. “Is he suspected of a crime?”

I equivocated a little. “Not at this time. I’d just like to know what kind of person he is.”

Cheryl thought about it. “I guess he’s okay. I mean, we’ll never be friends, Floyd and me. He has some pretty weird ideas.”

“I’ve heard that. Can you give me an example?”

She fiddled with the various hand stamps at her work station for a few seconds, lining them up like little soldiers. “Two years ago, the postmaster position opened, and Floyd and I both applied for it. He made it clear he was going to get it, said they’d never choose a woman over a man.”

“But you got the job.” When Cheryl merely shrugged I went on, “How did he take that?”

“He never said a word.” Setting her elbows on the counter, she leaned toward me. “For almost two full months, he didn’t say one word to me. I’d tell him things he needed to know; he’d grunt. It was ridiculous.” She took a deep breath, as if reliving a decision she’d made. “One day I faced him down. I said, ‘Floyd, I know you’re disappointed you didn’t get the job, but if you can’t handle working for a woman, I’ll get you transferred to a different office.”

“Can you do that?”

She chuckled. “I have no idea, but I couldn’t stand his Poor Me face one more day.”

“Did it work?”

She waggled a hand in a maybe/maybe not gesture. “He speaks to me if he has to, but that’s as far as it goes. Most of the time he avoids me like the plague.”

“Great working conditions!”

“Well, he’s out on the route all day, so it isn’t too bad.” She stood up straight again, signaling she needed to get back to work. “I still get little hints he’s unhappy, though. A few weeks ago Floyd said he’d heard about a conference I should go to. I took it to mean he thinks I need instruction.”

“A conference?”

“On leadership.” Cheryl smiled grimly. “I try to look at it as a positive thing. At least he’s finally thinking of me as the leader around here.”

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Barb

Sheriff Brill called just before noon. “Did you hear we’ve got a lead on Sharky?”

“Rory mentioned it, but I don’t know the details.”

“Richard Stark, National Guardsman, lives in a rental house just outside the city limits. He worked as a janitor at a nursing home until 2013, but he got fired. According to his former boss, a Mrs. Andrews, he spent most of his shifts hiding instead of mopping. No indication of any present employment.”

“Mrs. Andrews fired him?”

“She says she never would have hired him in the first place, but the facility administrator has a soft spot for vets and wanted to give him a shot.”

“What was the reason for her initial dislike?”

He chuckled. “She says he looked at her funny.”

“Not funny in a humorous sense.”

“No. He’s creepy, she says. If he’d done his work, she’d have tolerated him, but the staff kept finding him sleeping in closets and smoking outside the back door. After the required rigmarole of warnings and documentation, she let him go.”

We’d told Brill about the man Faye saw on Bois Blanc, and he reported what he’d done about it. “We sent men to search Farrell’s lot, but if the weapon was ever there it’s gone now.”

I told him what Faye had learned about Floyd Stone at the post office, ending with, “Ben was angry because Rose wouldn’t marry him and legitimize their relationship. Stone got passed over for promotion in favor of a woman. And Sharky got fired from his last job by a woman. Three of the four men we’re looking at have reason, at least in their own minds, to hate a woman.”

“Which could easily become women in general, if you’re looking for someone to blame for your problems.”

“Exactly. What does Sharky have to say for himself?”

“We can’t find him.” Brill sounded disgusted. “I sent a car to his place, but it looks like he hasn’t been there for several days. There was a dog chained near the front door, and the poor thing was half-dead from thirst. My guys took it to the Humane Society.”

“Sharky’s gone into hiding?”

“He’ll guess we can tie him to the stolen weapon, and he knows Pansy saw him at your house. He’ll probably leave the state.”

“Unless they plan to complete what they see as their mission first,” I murmured. “Sheriff, are there any upcoming events in the area that relate to feminism or women’s rights?”

I heard pages flip and guessed Brill was consulting a calendar. “We’ve got President Bahn coming to the college on the third.”

A few weeks before it had been all Retta could talk about. A local woman spent a year in Asia in the 1990s, living with a family whose daughter was her age. Twenty years later the daughter, now Madame Bahn, was president of her country. Currently visiting the US, she was on her way from D.C. to the West Coast and had arranged to stop briefly in Allport to see her old friend. When they heard about it, the local college had asked Madame Bahn to speak while she was in town, and she agreed.

“That could be it,” Brill said. “She’s a female in a leadership position. They might try to disrupt her speech or even kill her.”

“How depraved does one have to be to plan something like that?” I asked, but it was a rhetorical question. I’m only too familiar with the things people do to other people.

“It’s time to call in the State Police,” Brill said. “It’s a credible threat, and the sooner they’re on it, the better.”

“Thanks, Sheriff. If there’s anything we can do, please let us know.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Retta

We were having an amazing stretch of weather for a Michigan May. The temperatures went up to the mid-70s each day, and the rains, which had been plentiful in April, receded most mornings by 9:00, leaving the world fresh and green but the ground dry. I stayed away from the agency for a few days, letting Barbara Ann get over her grump. I should know better than to try to help, because she simply cannot admit she might need advice. One good thing about her is she doesn’t hold a grudge. Once she’s said her piece and had a little time to herself, she’s fine.

The girls and I had a good time except for two things. First, Pansy worried about her animals. She kept asking if Faye’s sons knew about reindeer and whether they’d remember they need a fan when the weather starts getting hot. Being an animal lover myself, I understood how hard it was for her to trust someone else to take as good care of her critters as she had.

The other problem was Daisy, who’d left her doll behind at the cabin. We’d assured her Miss Gladiolus was safe out there, but she worried the doll would think she’d been abandoned. “She always sleeps with me,” she explained. “I’ve got Pansy and Iris to sleep with now, but Miss Gladiolus hasn’t got anybody.”

To relieve their minds, I decided to take the girls out to the farm for an afternoon. When I called Faye, she said she’d meet us out there. She wanted to see her sons and her horses, of course, but I was a little surprised when Barbara said she’d go as well. She even offered to bring lunch, which meant it would come from somewhere like the Colonel’s. Barbara has as much interest in cooking as I have in learning Mandarin Chinese.

We arrived at about the same time, so a small crowd descended on what Bill and Carla have begun calling Prospero’s Farm, I guess because it’s a magical place.

Pansy was out of the car almost before I turned off the engine, heading for the barnyard. Iris helped Daisy out, promising they’d fetch the doll right after lunch, and headed for the garden, where Carla was thinning a row of carrot plants. Always helpful, Iris knelt at the opposite end of the row and began working.

Daisy was thrilled when Faye opened the back door of her Escape to release Buddy. She squealed his name, and the dog ran to her in an odd little lope in which his back legs looked like they were trying to pass his front ones. Styx was still on his leash, and I held on, fearful of fireworks between the two dogs. Oddly, Buddy completely ignored Styx, and Styx didn’t approach Buddy either. When I unclipped his leash he ran happily off to visit the reindeer.

I recalled Faye telling me that when dogs meet on neutral territory they often tolerate each other better. She might have been right, though the animosity wasn’t Styx’s fault. The whole problem could have been avoided completely if Faye’s dog was a little less grouchy.

Bill came from a shed, calling hellos to everyone. Barbara and Faye unloaded bags and boxes of food, setting them on an old table Cramer had rescued from the donation pile for use at our picnic. It was draped with an old sheet, and Carla had already set out china plates and metal cutlery for everyone (no paper products or plastics for them!) Barb took an oversized jug of water out of the back of her car, and I heard ice cubes click against each other. Bill and Carla frown on soda and other sweet drinks, so water and green tea would be the libations of the day.

As Faye and I set out the food, Barbara and Cramer disappeared into the bunkhouse. Bill gave Pansy a tour of the barnyard, introducing her to Anni-Frid and Agnetha. Pansy came back impressed. “They’re beautiful!”