The Heirloom Murders (5 page)

Roelke had no trouble
finding the number he wanted in the phone book. It took much longer to scrape up the courage to dial. He was pulling the receiver from his ear with relief when he heard a woman’s breathless voice. “Hello?”

“Peggy? This is Roelke McKenna. I don’t know if you remember me—”

“Roelke? Of
course
I remember you!” Delight replaced Peggy’s initial surprise. “Biology, English Lit … and we had the same study hall our senior year, remember? How are you doing?”

“Well, thanks.” Roelke began drawing tiny triangles on the scrap of paper where he’d scrawled Peggy’s number. “And, um, how have you been?”

“Good, Roelke. Really good. What brings you calling now, stranger?”

Peggy MacDonald, plump and perky, had had a crush on him all the way through high school. Roelke really hoped he wasn’t screwing the pooch by calling her now. “I was hoping you could help me out with something. I’ve heard you work for an investment company.”

“I do. Our office is in Lake Geneva.”

“That’s impressive,” Roelke said, and meant it. Math was not his thing. “Did you know I’m a cop?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Well, cops don’t earn a whole lot.” Especially part-time beat cops in a small village. “But I’ve been saving for years, and—”

“Oh, good for you! Let that compounding interest work.”

“Right,” Roelke said. “I’ve been thinking about investing some of it. I’m young enough that I can handle something with a bit of risk, wouldn’t you say?”

“Absolutely!”

Roelke, who had no intention of ever risking a penny of his savings, glanced at his notes. “I’d like to invest in a local company. Something that provides jobs around here.”

Peggy’s voice grew thoughtful. “You’d have lots of choices in Waukesha, of course.”

“Let’s stay out of Waukesha city, for now. Is there anything more rural, or in a smaller town?”

Peggy named several companies. Roelke said “Hmmn,” or “Well, maybe,” to each. Finally she said, “There’s always AgriFutures, of course. It’s a publicly traded company.”

“That one’s down near Elkhorn, right?”

“It’s quite a local success story,” Peggy said. “A struggling en
trepreneur came up with a new piece of farm equipment. Was granted a patent, got whatever it was built, and started pounding the pavement.”

“I kind of like the idea of investing in a company that makes stuff for farmers. I could do it in honor of my grandparents.”

“Roelke, that is so sweet!”

“But here’s the thing,” Roelke said quickly. “I find the whole idea of investing a little … intimidating. I mean, how can I know if the company is really stable?”

“AgriFutures has been a powerhouse as long as I’ve been in the banking biz,” Peggy assured him. “It’s a big player on the international market. They’ve been adding jobs steadily.”

“Hmmn.”

“They’ve also given a lot to the community. A big donation to the library, playground equipment for schools, stuff like that. Would you like me to do some research for you?”

“That would be great!” Roelke said. “I’d be glad to hire you.”

“Oh, Roelke!” Peggy said, in a mock-scolding tone. “I’d never take money from an old friend like you! Give me a few days, OK? I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“Thanks, Peggy. I really appreciate your help.”

“You know, I still get back home almost every weekend,” she said. “I like to check on my folks. Maybe we could get together for lunch or something.”

This was just what he’d hoped to avoid. Well, she was doing him a huge favor; the least he could do was buy her a meal. “Sure,” he said. “We can do that.”

“Oh, goody!” she chirped. “I’ll be in touch!”

_____

“Idiot,” Chloe muttered as she drove north from New Glarus. “Idiot, idiot,
idiot
.” She was glad she’d promised to help Dellyn with the antiques in her parents’ attic that day. She didn’t want to be alone, with nothing to do but wonder why on earth she’d agreed to spend more time with Markus.

When she got to Dellyn’s place she walked around the house and checked the garden. Empty. She retraced her steps and knocked on the screened door in front. “Hello?” she called. “Dellyn? It’s Chloe.”

“Come on in,” Dellyn called. “It’s open.”

As Chloe stepped inside Dellyn came downstairs looking hot, grubby, tired, and sad. “I was up in the attic.”

“Well, reinforcements have arrived. Lead on.”

Once back in that oven-like space, Dellyn captured a few damp, stray strands of hair and re-did her ponytail. “These heirlooms aren’t tagged or numbered,” she explained. “I was trying to start with an inventory.”

“Good plan,” Chloe agreed, trying to sound hearty. “We can number each carton as we go.”

They worked steadily for some time. Chloe was just retucking the flaps on the sixth box when a woman’s voice drifted up the stairs. “Yoo-hoo!”

Chloe looked at Dellyn. “I didn’t know anyone actually said ‘yoo-hoo’ anymore.”

“It’s my neighbor. Come on. She won’t leave until we come down.”

“Do you want her to leave?”

“I shouldn’t have said that.” Dellyn sighed and turned away.

Downstairs, Dellyn made the introductions. “This is my Aunt Sonia Padopolous. Sonia, my friend Chloe works at Old World with me.”

“Nice to meet you,” Chloe said. “You’re Dellyn’s aunt … ?”

“Oh, not by blood, but I’ve known Dellyn since she was in diapers.” The plump woman held a picnic basket in one hand. She wore lavender polyester shorts, a frilly cotton blouse—both a little too tight—and short white socks with thick-soled tennis shoes. Her cropped hair was the flat red of a bad dye job. Chloe guessed she was probably in her mid-sixties.

Sonia turned to Dellyn. “Honey, I brought over some fried chicken and cole slaw. And my Oatmeal Gems.”

“Thanks. I’m not hungry, though. You’ve got to stop bringing things over.”

“You have to eat,” Sonia said firmly. She marched into the kitchen and insisted on setting the kitchen table right that minute.

Dellyn took a pitcher of cold tea from the fridge. Chloe accepted a tall, sweating glass gratefully. She fended off the offer of fried chicken by explaining she was a vegetarian, but tried to make nice by taking a large helping of cole slaw.

Roelke’s disapproving voice echoed in her mind:
Coffee and cole slaw? It’s two o’clock in the afternoon. You need protein.

Lovely. Now both of the problem men in her life had intruded into the day.

“So,” Sonia said. “You work at Old World too? Are you one of those guides?”

“We call them interpreters,” Chloe said. “But actually, I’m curator of collections.”

“Chloe’s not a Jill-come-lately to the history world, like I am,” Dellyn said. “She actually knows what she’s doing.”

“Sort of, anyway.” Chloe took a bite of cole slaw, and strangled a cough. Good Lord! How could someone ruin cole slaw? She grabbed her glass of tea and gulped.

Sonia didn’t seem to notice. “Dellyn’s parents would have loved you, then. They knew everything there was to know about Eagle history.”

“Speaking of that, I’ve got Valerie’s article about the Eagle Diamond I was telling you about, Chloe,” Dellyn said. She got up from the table and, behind Sonia’s back, slid a napkin-wrapped chicken leg into the trash can. Then she grabbed a few stapled pages from a stack on the counter, and handed them to Chloe.

“I knew you’d find it,” Chloe said, as she wondered how she might discreetly dispose of her cole slaw.

Dellyn slid back into her chair. “I didn’t find it. It made me so crazy that I finally went to the library and dug out the magazine, and made a photocopy.”

Sonia reached across the table and patted Dellyn’s hand. “Hon, you’ve had two terrible shocks in a row. I’m not surprised if you’re feeling a little punky. Now, what’s this about the Eagle Diamond?”

“You know the story?” Chloe asked.

Sonia rubbed at an invisible spot on her fork. “Everyone around here knows the story. But it’s just a legend.” She slid a plate of cookies toward Dellyn. “Have a couple of my Oatmeal Gems.”

Dellyn’s face was tight as she dutifully took a cookie. Chloe looked from her friend to the neighbor, trying to figure out the vibes. Aunt Sonia was eccentric, but aside from her cooking, seemed harmless. Dellyn, though, was acting uncharacteristically wired.

“I hear the mailman,” Dellyn said. She slid from her chair and headed toward the door. Chloe watched with admiration as Dellyn slid her cookie into a pocket of her shorts. She was good at this hide-the-food thing. Chloe still didn’t know how to ditch the slaw without being obvious, so she steeled herself for one more bite of the vinegar-and-pepper-with-a-bit-of-cabbage mess, washed down with another gulp of tea.

By the time Dellyn returned to the kitchen, Sonia had finished her own meal. “I’ve got to run on home,” she said. “Still no word on the service?”

“They had to do an autopsy, remember,” Dellyn said stiffly. “That slows things down. But Simon is planning a memorial for Tuesday. If we have Bonnie’s body by then, we’ll bury her. If not, we’ll have a private burial when we can.” She leaned against the counter and folded her arms. “Thanks for stopping by, Sonia.”

Chloe waited until she heard the front door close before scraping the remnants of her meal into the garbage. “I don’t mean to be rude,” she said, “but this food is inedible.”

Dellyn began flipping through the stack of envelopes she’d retrieved from the mail slot. “Yeah. She’s a horrible cook.”

“Tell me if I’m being too nosy, but … well, you didn’t seem happy to see a friendly neighbor.”

“I wasn’t.” Dellyn began tossing envelopes aside. “Condolence card, bill.”

OK, Chloe thought. Dellyn doesn’t want to talk about Sonia Padopolous.

“Two condolence cards. Bill.” Suddenly Dellyn went very still.

“What is it?”

Dellyn slowly turned an envelope toward Chloe. It was addressed to Dellyn Burke in blue ink. And in the upper left corner, written with the same pen:
B. Sabatola.

Chloe stared. “Oh my God.”

“It’s from Bonnie. Do you think I should open it?”

“Well … yeah, I do. Maybe it will explain why she felt she needed to kill herself.”

Dellyn unfolded the paper, read it, and handed it to Chloe. The note was frustratingly terse.
Dellyn, I’m so sorry. I just can’t face it anymore. Love always, Bonnie.

“Is this your sister’s handwriting?” Chloe asked.

“Yes.” Dellyn’s eyes welled with tears. “But she didn’t explain anything! How could she send me a note like this, but not tell me
why ?
”

Chloe put an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “I imagine she was doing the very best she could, and that she was completely out of emotional energy. Depression does that to a person.”

“I’m trying not to be angry at her. But I can’t help it.”

“You’re entitled to your feelings. Just remember that even in the end, she was thinking about you. She wanted to apologize to
you
.”

“I guess.” Dellyn snuffled. “Yeah. I suppose it’s something.” She drew a deep, shuddering breath. “I better call Simon, and let him know this came. Maybe he got one too.”

“The cops’ll want to know about it, too.”

Dellyn blinked at her. “The cops? Why?”

Chloe growled silently at Roelke. “I think they just like to know all the details on cases like this. So their files are complete.”

“That’s the least of my concerns. I need to call Simon.”

Chloe sat back at the table as Dellyn punched in the numbers on the wall phone. “Simon? It’s—yeah, it’s me.” She told him about the letter. “Did you get one too? … Yeah, I’ll wait.” She put a hand over the receiver and said, “He hasn’t gotten his mail yet.” Dellyn stared blindly out the window for a few moments, and then turned her attention back to the phone. “No? … Sure, I’ll bring it right over. See you in a bit.”

“He wants to see it?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah. He hasn’t gotten, or found, any message from Bonnie.” Dellyn ran a hand over her hair, looking around the kitchen. “I need my car keys. They’re around here somewhere …”

“They’re right here.” Chloe retrieved the key ring from behind the napkin holder. “Are you OK to drive? I could take you, and just wait in the car.”

“Thanks, but I’m OK.” Dellyn shaped her mouth into a smile. “And thanks for the help this afternoon, too. I really appreciate it.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Chloe said. “How about if I stay here, and keep working until you get back? I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Chloe said. “As pathetic as that sounds.”

“Be my guest, then. If you need to leave before I get home, just pull the door closed behind you.”

Chloe waited until she heard Dellyn’s car back from the driveway before reaching for the phone and punching in Roelke’s home number. No answer. She tried the station’s non-emergency number. No answer there either, and she hung up before the call switched to the county line. Well, this really wasn’t her business anyway. Dellyn would probably tell the cops on her own. Bonnie had mailed a suicide note, evidently just before driving to the trail and killing herself. Case closed.