Having a Great Crime- Wish You Were Here Read online

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  “I’m sure she will. We’ll buy a couple of postcards while we’re here.”

  I closed my eyes and thought for a moment. “You know, though, I have to admit I’m intrigued by this case. Trying to solve an old crime is kind of a challenge.”

  “That’s the Sandi I know and love. I’ll help with this case, but understand that I expect to do some honeymooning, too.”

  “Absolutely.” I stood on my toes and kissed him. He kissed me back and we had a moment.

  Two young girls were passing by us and I heard one of them say, “Oh, brother. Get a room, you two.”

  Kids are a lot smarter than when I was one of them.

  Pete laughed and called after them. “Will do, kids.”

  “Let’s go to that coffee house and have some lunch.” Breakfast, surprisingly, hadn’t stuck with me. I was hungry.

  After storing my bags in the Jeep, we strolled down the street and climbed up the steps of the old church building. The inside was interesting. They’d maintained a lot of the history of the place. I looked around while Pete ordered our lunches and drinks.

  I tapped Pete on the shoulder. “Ask if anyone knows the history of this place.”

  “Does anyone know the history of this building?” he asked, turning to the woman helping him.

  She smiled and turned dimples on Pete. “You’d want to talk to the owner. She won’t be in until tomorrow. I’ll get your drinks, and if you’ll find a table, we’ll bring your food to you.”

  She turned and smiled at me. She had a smile that could light up a room, and the dimples didn’t hurt any.

  We picked up our drinks and found a table. Looking around, I saw that the walls were covered with art, and I had a feeling it might have come from local artists.

  “You know, Pete, the woman at the antique store was pretty nice. She just picked up on your teasing. Actually, so far this is turning out to be one of the friendliest towns I’ve ever visited.” I sipped my iced tea.

  He took a sip of coffee. “You’re right. I could get used to this place.”

  “Don’t even think about it. I have a feeling there’s not much need for P.I.s in this town. Too small.”

  “Of course, you never know what lies beneath the surface.”

  “Maybe someday we could retire to a town like this one. Just a thought, but worth thinking about.” I could get used to this place, too. The scenery alone had me hooked, and the friendly people only added to it.

  A different young woman brought our lunches. “How are you today? Don’t forget, we’ve got some good desserts, too.” She smiled, another one of those dazzling smiles, and turned to clean off a table near us.

  Pete reached across the table and placed his hand on top of mine before lifting his coffee cup and holding it over the middle of the table. “Here’s to a honeymoon to remember.”

  I clinked my glass against his cup.

  “Why don’t we go back to the B&B and take a walk along the paths?” I asked. “It’ll take my mind off of Bonnie Singleton.”

  “Works for me. Eat your lunch and we’ll get going. We can come back to town anytime.”

  When we returned to the B&B, we found the three women bustling around, putting finishing touches on everything.

  Bea was hooking up a DVD player, but didn’t seem to be having much luck. “Everything about this house says history, so I’m setting this up for people who might want to watch vintage movies.”

  “Do you happen to have any of Bonnie’s movies?” I asked.

  “Of course. I’ve stocked up on movies from the thirties and forties. If anyone wants to see something newer, they’ll have to go to a theater or watch TV when they go home.”

  Pete glanced at me before turning to Bea. “I have a feeling we’ll be watching a few movies while we’re here. Sandi loves old films. Let me hook that up for you.”

  “Oh, no. You’re a guest.”

  “Trust me, I’ll have it hooked up in sixty seconds. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

  Bea stood and watched my husband go to work.

  He was right. It took him less than a minute.

  He stood. “Now, let’s go for that stroll.”

  Bea walked outside with us and pointed out two trails. “These have been here for years and they were pretty overgrown. We had to clear them, but they’re perfect for walking now.”

  “How many years?” I asked.

  Bea looked surprised. “Well, I know they were here when Bonnie lived in the house because I’ve seen pictures, and I think they were here long before the thirties.”

  “Of course.” Pete seemed to read my thoughts. “Sandi will be looking under every rock for the murder weapon.”

  I smiled up at him. “You know me so well.”

  We started strolling through the woods, not feeling like we were on a mission. Pete held my hand.

  “Did you really think I’d start searching for the weapon?” I squeezed his hand.

  “Not today, but soon. I have no doubt that’s what you’ll want to do soon.”

  “I wonder if any of these women might know where we can lay their hands on a metal detector.”

  Pete dropped my hand. “Do you have any idea how many red herrings you’ll find before a weapon just happens to land in front of us?”

  “Wouldn’t that be fun if it simply appeared in our path?” I laughed.

  “No such luck.”

  I tripped over a rock and Pete grabbed my arm to steady me. “Isn’t that the rock you wanted to look under?”

  Playing his little game, I tried to pick up the large rock. It was embedded in the dirt and wouldn’t budge. I shrugged and walked on.

  “You’re up for anything, aren’t you, sweetie?” Pete nudged the rock with his toes, but it wouldn’t budge.

  We walked on, holding hands again and talking about inconsequential, mundane subjects. It was relaxing.

  “We should look into real estate around here.” Pete surprised me when he changed the subject from boring to real estate.

  “Seriously?”

  “I don’t mean to move here, but for a getaway house.” He looked around at our surroundings. “I could get used to this. Sometimes we need to get away for a few days.”

  I followed his gaze. There were fir and hemlock trees everywhere, moss-covered tree stumps here and there, and there was plenty of foliage on plants I didn’t recognize. I could hear birds singing and the rustling of leaves, but they were peaceful and quiet sounds. I saw a brown bird with an orange chest land on one of the tree stumps. I had no idea what kind of bird it was, but it was beautiful.

  For a brief moment, solving an old case didn’t seem as appealing as it had earlier.

  That feeling didn’t last long. “I wonder if anyone actually has a metal detector. I’ll ask when we go back. If not, maybe we can rent a couple.”

  “You have a one-track mind.” Thankfully, Pete didn’t sound upset.

  “I do, and I’m sorry. I can’t help myself.”

  We walked for another twenty minutes, once again talking about unimaginative things.

  Pete stopped. “Let’s head back.”

  “Now?”

  “I know you won’t let go of the metal detector question. Let’s get it out of the way. Tomorrow we can walk the other trail.”

  “I love you, Pete. You don’t get upset with me. You put up with me and my eccentricities. You accept me the way I am.”

  He chuckled. “Is that what they are? Eccentricities?”

  “Well, that’s better than letting people think I’m half nuts. I can’t help it. Once I get something on my mind, I can’t seem to let go.”

  “I know.”

  We walked back toward the B&B, holding hands again.

  As we walked out of the woods, I saw Kimberly and Sasha getting ready to leave.

  “Wait a second,” I called. Actually, I was probably shouting, but they simply turned toward me and smiled.

  “We’re in no hurry. What do you need?” Sasha asked.
/>   “Do either one of you have a metal detector?”

  Chapter Five

  Kimberly tipped her head to the side. “Are you going treasure hunting?”

  Pete stepped forward. “Your aunt has Sandi working already. She wants to search for the murder weapon used on Bonnie Singleton. Our understanding is that it was never found.”

  Sasha threw her purse in the car and turned to Pete. “My fiancé and I each have a metal detector. We used to look for gold in the hills and around the creek. We can lend you ours. I sure would like to help, though.”

  “You can,” I said. “You probably know more about how the detector works, and you certainly know more about this area. When do you have some free time?”

  Kimberly and Sasha looked at each other.

  “I think our aunt will give us some time off tomorrow to work on this.” Kimberly looked pretty sure of herself.

  “She’s right.” Bea had walked out onto the porch. “We’ve got things in hand here, so the girls can go with you tomorrow. I’d join in, too, but I’ve still got a few things to take care of in the house.”

  Sasha jingled the keys she held in her hand. “What time do you want to start?”

  “Pete’s an early riser. I’ll make sure he wakes me up so we’ll be ready by eight. Is that too early for you?”

  “Not at all,” Sasha replied. “Well, I can’t speak for Kimberly, but I’ll be here.”

  She nudged her sister.

  Sasha got in a jab. “She likes to sleep in. Since we’ll be working here, she’ll need to get used to getting up early.”

  The Look seemed to be contagious. Kimberly gave it to her sister, in essence meaning don’t mess with me, but she didn’t say anything.

  Sasha laughed.

  The two women waved as they pulled out of the driveway.

  “What now?” Pete asked.

  “Now we do some research.”

  “We?”

  “Well, of course. You said you’d help.” I fluttered my eyelashes and winked at him. “Besides, there may be a romantic interlude in it for you if you play your cards right.”

  Pete laughed and raced up the steps to the porch. “Hurry up. We need to get this research out of the way.”

  He sure made my heart sing sometimes.

  After entering the house, I climbed the stairs and retrieved the photo album and the biography I’d checked out at the library.

  Pete waited for me in the dining room. “I talked to Bea and she said to go ahead and use the dining table to go over everything.”

  I sat in the chair next to him. “Somehow I knew it wouldn’t be an issue.”

  He took the photo album from my hands and opened it, immediately studying the pictures. “It looks like she never lacked for male company. On the first page she’s with someone different in every picture.”

  I pulled the album toward me so we’d both have access to it. It was an old album with black pages, and the pictures were attached to the pages with little black mounting corners with glue on the back. “Okay, now that I’ve seen her, I remember more about her. In particular, I remember her in one of those corny old murder mysteries. You know, the bad guy would be in the background wearing a cape and a hat that was so low on his head that you couldn’t see his face. As I recall, she was a pretty good screamer.”

  “Do you remember the name of the movie? Maybe Bea has a copy here.”

  “It seems like it was called Death Wears Black, or something like that.”

  I glanced up, waiting for Bea to comment on the movie from her spot in the kitchen.

  Nothing.

  Maybe she hadn’t heard me.

  Pete turned a page in the album. “Bea’s outside.”

  I could see him trying to hide a grin.

  “Ah.”

  The album was intriguing. There were studio portraits of her and candid pictures of her on location and on vacation. Pete was right. She was photographed with a different man in almost every shot.

  Somehow, looking through the album made me feel like I was snooping. This was both her professional and her private life. She had shoulder-length dark, wavy hair in the movie posters. In reality, in the personal photos she had curly dark hair. I had a feeling the curls were natural. In a couple of the candid shots she had a scarf, about four inches wide around her hair and tied in the back with the ends hanging over her shoulder, reminding me of old images of gypsies. In some she wore hats that were off to the side of her head and sat low, almost to her eyebrows.

  Speaking of eyebrows, they were drawn on, thin and fake looking, a style of the day.

  She had sultry eyes – dark and welcoming. They had the come hither look of the spider inviting the fly into her space.

  I shook my head. She was either a great actress, or she was constantly on the hunt for men. At least that’s the impression I got. Maybe it was all for the publicity.

  I looked up at Pete. “What are your thoughts about her after looking at this album?”

  “I think she would have been a beautiful woman without all the junk on her face. Men probably thought she was sexy. I’m sure she didn’t look like their wives.”

  “Why, Pete. I had no idea you were so sexist.”

  “I’m not. But in those days they seemed to think weird eyebrows, dark lipstick and strange hairdos were hot. Sue me. I don’t like the look.”

  “Women today have piercings in their eyebrows and noses, and they wear dark lipstick, sometimes almost black. Hats? Have you taken a good look around lately? Things haven’t really changed that much.”

  “I like the way you look – natural.”

  “Thanks. I think. I kind of like that gypsy scarf, though.”

  We were quiet while we looked through the rest of the album. At some point the same man started appearing in the pictures. I didn’t recognize him. I had a feeling he wasn’t an actor. I also noticed that when he made his entrance in the album, Bonnie toned down her appearance. Her features were softer and, honestly, she looked like a woman in love.

  “Did you notice that these were taken in and around this house?” Pete asked.

  “I did. I wonder if he was a local.”

  Bea came hurrying out of the kitchen. “Let me see.”

  “I thought you were outside.” I turned the album toward her.

  “I was picking tomatoes off my plants. I’m back.”

  I sniffed. “We can see that.”

  She studied a few of the photos, rubbing her chin while she did so.

  “I think… No, it couldn’t be. Hmm.”

  I pursed my lips. “You wanted me to work this case, so tell me what you think. Who is he?”

  She looked me in the eyes, appearing to think over her answer. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was Jack Fisher, a local lawyer. They look enough alike to be father and son. Or, considering Jack’s age, maybe grandfather and grandson. Although, Jack’s only been in Battle Ground for a couple of years. He’s not from around here.” She raised her eyebrows. “Coincidence.”

  Bea slowly walked back to the kitchen, nodding to herself.

  I had a feeling I might want to meet Jack Fisher while we were here.

  Pete turned the page in the album and we could see that two pages of photos had been removed. We turned one more page and there were a few more photos. The man wasn’t in any more of the pictures, and Bonnie didn’t look happy. She appeared more wistful than anything else.

  That was the end of the album. There were several more blank pages and we could see no pictures had been added.

  “This is just a guess, but I have a feeling she was murdered before more photos could be taken.” It left me with a feeling of sadness.

  “Yeah. I think you’re right.” Pete leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head before moving his head in circles to get rid of kinks. “I’m surprised it took so long to look at all of these pictures.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Me, three,” Bea called from the kitchen. She wal
ked out, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. “I can’t get over the resemblance between that man and Jack, but he moved here from Ohio. He doesn’t have any local ties.”

  “Well, they say we all have a double.” Like Pete, I stretched. My upper back felt tired and sore from pouring over the album. “I used to work for the county in Los Angeles. I went to lunch one day, and when I came back one of my coworkers was annoyed with me because she saw me in a restaurant and I wouldn’t acknowledge her. I hadn’t been to a restaurant. It finally struck her that the woman she’d seen was wearing different clothes and had a different hairstyle, although it was similar to mine. She’d seen my double.”

  Bea set the towel on the table. “By the way, where’d you find that album?”

  “One of the antique stores in town had a whole display of Bonnie’s personal things. She said the Realtor who sold you this house gave them to her.”

  “Wish I’d known about the stuff. I’d have bought it off the Realtor. Which store was it? I’ll want to stop in and look at what she’s got.”

  I gave her the name of the store. “The woman told me that you still have a lot of the original furniture. Is that true?”

  “Yes. A lot of it is still in the bedrooms. Apparently Bonnie originally planned to entertain out here. She had all the rooms decked out for guests.”

  “I don’t think her idea went over too well,” I said. “None of the pictures seemed to be from parties or get togethers.”

  “Well, Battle Ground was a farming community back then. Her actor friends were probably too la de da to lower themselves to come out here, other than a few men.”

  “Come to think of it,” Pete said, “there weren’t many other women in those pictures.”

  “Huh. I wonder if that says something about Bonnie’s character.”

  Pete and I were suddenly each lost in our own thoughts.

  Chapter Six

  After a great dinner and some chit chat with Bea, we climbed the stairs and continued our honeymoon.

  Needless to say, I slept well that night.

  Pete woke me up early. “Let’s get moving. I’ve already had my shower, so the bathroom is all yours. I’ll meet you downstairs for breakfast.”