Murder Under the Tree Page 13

  Deirdre, Elizabeth and John, and Neelam joined us at the table. I watched John smile at Elizabeth, and was happy to see they seemed to be okay. John and Elizabeth definitely had their differences, which sometimes led to conflict. It was hopeful to see them learning to be flexible and be together in harmony. It appeared they were finally focusing their energy to flow in the same direction, rather than a clashing of incongruous vitalities. I had been hanging around with Deirdre too much lately, it seemed.

  At ten o'clock, the lights dimmed and spotlights came on. Then one light strayed off over to our table. I could feel Andrew and Will's eyes on me. Phil looking handsome in his dark suit, walked over to me carrying a large bouquet of red roses in one hand and a microphone in the other. I let out a quiet, little nervous laugh, and felt my face flush. I hoped he wasn't going to sing to me right then and there.

  Phil handed me the flowers, his eyes sparkling, and said, “Twenty-eight beautiful roses, one for each year that we've been married.” Everyone applauded. “Twenty-eight wonderful years with this amazing woman. I love you, Kay.” He kissed my cheek and walked back on stage. “I'm a lucky guy, everyone.” There was another round of applause. “It was our anniversary a few days ago, but I was so busy getting ready for tonight...” Boos began to be heard throughout the room, including those from Elizabeth and Deirdre. Phil stopped talking and threw up his hands in a good natured gesture, being caught off-guard for a moment, then said, “This first song is for Kay.”

  I blew Phil a kiss. Finally I had received it...my big surprise! Will, Frances, Andrew, and Rose were all smiles, as were Deirdre, Elizabeth, and Neelam.

  The band started playing “Unforgettable.” They weren't bad!

  After the song ended and the next started, I turned around to see who all showed up. In the very back off to the side, I spotted Robert Peterson looking in our direction at Elizabeth with a grim expression on his face. Sitting next to him, talking in his ear, was Nancy Reinhardt.

  Chapter Twelve

  Thursday, January 1

  New Years Day

  Everyone slept in that morning. I laid on my side and watched Phil sleep beside me with a smile on his face. The show was a success; it was a fun evening.

  Then I remembered Robert Peterson sitting in the back with Nancy. Had Elizabeth invited him to the show as well? She said he had to leave Deirdre's party early, so why had he shown up only a couple of hours later at the gig? I got up and looked out our bedroom window towards Robert's home. His car was in the driveway, the same car I was sure I saw in St. Paul. I threw on my bathrobe and went downstairs. Putting on my coat and boots, I walked down the driveway to get the newspaper. After picking it up, I looked over towards Robert's car. Why not? I trampled across our white-carpeted lawn to his driveway and looked at the back of his car. There was a blue and red Chicago Cubs bumper sticker on it.

  I knew it. His was the car I had seen in St. Paul. He followed me when I drove Elizabeth's car, thinking I was her. Glancing up at his house, I noticed the blinds move in an upstairs front window. I went back into the house.

  Andrew's birthday was a pleasant, relaxing day. Something we all needed. We watched a comedy movie and played the Rock 'n Roll Band interactive video game, playing and singing to the Beatles edition of the game. We actually could have done this all downstairs on real instruments, but it was fun having a computer rate your playing ability, and for me, the vocals.

  Phil's carrot cake was a hit, as I knew it would be. Phil was a great baker.

  Early evening, after Andrew and Rose left, I went upstairs with Will to finish packing what he was going to take with him when he left this weekend for his new job in Madison. We would follow in two weeks and bring the rest of what he left behind. After packing a half dozen boxes, Will decided we should take a break and he started down the stairs to shoot some pool with Phil. I followed behind. As I watched Will descend, I thought about how our sons were remarkable, caring people. I was so proud of them, of their integrity and compassion for others.

  I turned the corner and entered the study. Taking the private investigator's report on Nancy Reinhardt out of the bottom drawer of the desk, I sat sideways on the sofa with my legs up and looked it over. DeMire had done a background check in criminal and sex offender databases with no results. A credit check. Nancy had a hefty $45,000 in credit card debt. Probably why she needed to get into the men's wills. It listed her education and work history, when and where. Three retirement homes in ten years in eastern Wisconsin. Why the move to western Wisconsin? There would have been more opportunities in the Milwaukee area and closer to where she was from.

  Her job before this was in Two Rivers at Harbor's Edge Village. I'd call tomorrow to find out what kind of an employee she was. Viktor had mentioned Two Rivers was where Les had killed the boy while drunk driving. It was a small town about the size of Sudbury Falls. I had lived here for less than a year and recognized many of the people in town. Did Nancy know of Les when she lived there? Neither Viktor nor Chelsey mentioned that Les knew Nancy before. If Les had, I'm sure it would have been mentioned.

  Viktor said Les couldn't figure out why Nancy didn't like him. If Nancy had known of Les' felony, she might have known of his prison term. It would have been on his application record in the files at the Home, unless Les lied. Maybe she never even looked. His probationary period would have been long over; she wouldn't have had to deal with that. And she started at the Home after Les did. But wouldn't a director want to know the backgrounds of everyone who worked for them?

  I turned to page three. Identity verification. Associated people: Mary Reinhardt, Two Rivers and Sheila Harris, Two Rivers, Sudbury Falls. Wait! The other site had mentioned a Sheila Reinhardt. Nancy had hired a relative as the manager of the kitchen!

  I went on the computer in the study and searched on Leslee Hollingsworth born in Two Rivers, Wisconsin. Nothing about his being born there, but an obituary popped up for Melissa and Les' father who had lived in Green Bay. Two Rivers and Green Bay were about forty miles apart.

  The phone rang.

  “Happy New Year, Kay! That was a great show last night. Phil was really on.”

  “Thanks, Elizabeth. It was great.”

  “His song to you was so romantic.”

  I doubt Elizabeth wanted to talk about the show. “What's up?” Must be either Robert or John.

  “John. I thought last night he would have asked me to marry him. What, with New Year's Eve being a traditional time to get engaged.”

  Elizabeth didn't give me time to answer. “What's he waiting for? He has the ring.”

  I shook my head. I knew there was nothing that was going to be rational about this conversation. Was she as oblivious as Phil? “Might be John was a bit troubled when he saw Robert at Deirdre's party.” Elizabeth should get real. Her behavior towards Richard and Mike's comment, must have felt threatening to John. “By the way, did you invite Robert to the show last night?”

  “No. He was there?”

  “For a while.” I proceeded to tell Elizabeth about seeing Robert Peterson's car when I drove to St. Paul. “It was creepy, Elizabeth. He must have followed me there, thinking I was you. I was in your car and wore your hat. But why?”

  “What's creepy about it? I think it's sweet.”

  Get real, Elizabeth. “Sweet? Stalker sweet.”

  “Kay, you're starting to sound like Deirdre. Robert's an angel. He does a lot of good for people.”

  I shook my head. My eye started to twitch. “I think you had better watch out for this one. And as far as John...you guys need to talk. I'm sorry, I have to go.” Elizabeth wasn't facing reality. I was fed up trying to reason with her.

  After I hung up with Elizabeth, I took out Lola's counselor's notes. Dated about a month ago, the counselor wrote that Lola was making headway with her anger in light of her troubled relationship with Les. She had discussed with Lola about recognizing the early signs of anger, and had given her different steps she could take to relax and deal wi
th the anger in a positive way using behavior modification techniques. Lola had been encouraged to join an anger management group session that met twice a week, which she did. Lola was reported as doing well in the sessions. Sharing and trying to help the other participants. She seemed happy with Lola's progress.

  If the counselor was satisfied with Lola, I was also for the moment.

  It had been a long two days. I wanted to spend some time with Will before he left on Saturday for Madison and his new job. This could wait. Of course I was fooling myself. I put everything back into the desk drawer and went downstairs to join Will and Phil. I was there with them, but my thoughts had not come along with me. I kept thinking of that report. Why had Nancy hired a relative to be in charge of the kitchen?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Friday, January 2

  Tonight I promised to help Deirdre finish painting her shop. At least I hoped it would be done tonight; Deirdre's jobs always ended up taking a lot longer than expected due to her trying to take creative detours during their execution. Will had plans with friends after dinner, and Phil and his band planned to listen to the recording of their show. He had been listening to the recording on his own since the show, and he had been groaning a lot whenever he perceived a slight error on his part. I didn't notice anything wrong; it sounded wonderful to me.

  Sitting in the study, I took a sip of my tea and looked up the number and owner's name for Harbor's Edge Village in Two Rivers. I dialed.

  “Harbor's Edge. Mrs. Maxfield speaking.”

  I gave Mrs. Maxfield a fake name and told her that I was calling from the Catholic Home in Sudbury Falls and related that Nancy Reinhardt had applied for a job as the director and had used Mrs. Maxfield's name as a reference.

  Mrs. Maxfield responded that Nancy's name was familiar and would just take a minute to get her file.

  I finished my cup of tea while waiting and started to look at the P.I's report again.

  “Let me look at my notes,” she said when she came back on the phone. “Yes, I remember her. Nancy was a manager here. I started as the director a few months before she quit.”

  “And how did she get along with the residents?”

  “Fine, really, she got along particularly well with the men.”

  With the men? “I see.” I didn't want to say too much, hoping that Mrs. Maxfield would fill the silence with more information.

  When she didn't, I asked, “Why do you think she left?”

  I heard the rustle of a page. “She probably thought it was time. Rumors had started...and she probably thought...”

  “What kind of rumors?”

  “Well, one of the male residents....” She hesitated. “When he died he left everything in his will to her. He didn't have much...she probably thought it was best to go and stop people from talking. Look, as I said, I only worked with her a short time. And after all, those were only rumors. Nothing was ever proven...”

  Interesting! Silence for another few moments.

  “I think I remember her saying she knew someone in Sudbury Falls.”

  I thanked Mrs. Maxfield for her time and hung up.

  I went back online and searched a number of engines, looking for headlines about a young boy being hit by a drunk driver in Two Rivers. After searching for a while I found a couple of articles in the Two Rivers Press archives.

  September 11, 2004 Two Rivers. A family is mourning the death of a young life, after a car crashed into him while riding his bike along County Road A, a block from his home. The driver is being charged with intoxication assault and intoxication manslaughter. The officers identified the 32-year-old driver as Leslee P. Hollingsworth. The 12-year-old boy died at the scene. Bobby Harris was loved by everyone....

  It continued.

  Next I found the young boy's obituary which was two days later.

  Two Rivers—Bobby David Harris, 12, passed away on Friday, September 11, 2004 at St. Nicholas Hospital in Two Rivers. He was born on September 14, 1993 in Two Rivers, Wisconsin, and was three days away from his 12th birthday. He attended St. Pius School as a 7th grade student. Bobby was active in sports and loved the outdoors. He will be missed dearly by those who had the privilege of knowing him.

  Bobby is survived by his parents Jack and Mary Pat (Smith) Harris of Two Rivers; his sister Sheila Harris of Two Rivers; paternal grandmother, Charlotte Harris of Green Bay, WI; his nana, Mary Rocke of Pittsburgh, PA; Godmother (aunt) Nancy Reinhardt of Two Rivers; It continued...

  I read through it again. I couldn't believe it. Were these the missing pieces to the puzzle? Sheila Harris was Bobby's sister! And Nancy Reinhardt his godmother! A motive for Les' murder was staring right at me, vengeance for Bobby's death. I pictured a young boy lying next to his bike on a roadside and then thought about Will and Andy. If this had happened to one of them and their killer received two years for his actions, would I seek additional vengeance? At any cost? I stared out the window and thought about moral goodness and consequences.

  Phil walked into the room and took a book from the bookcase. “What are you thinking about, Kay? You look dreamy.”

  I smiled. “About how much I love you and the boys.”

  “I love you too.” He kissed and left the room.

  I looked back at my computer and thought, Les had never seen the report from Mr. DeMire. What would have happened if he had? Would he have figured this out, what I had just read on the computer and left the Home and still be alive? There was a strong possibility that Les had been investigating his own murderers. I never had thought of Sheila.

  I called Sarah and asked her if she would be around this afternoon and that I wanted to discuss something with her and added she should also call Anne and Martin.

  * * * *

  When I arrived at the Home, Sarah, Anne, and Martin were waiting for my visit. They lit up when they saw me.

  “What's happened?” Martin asked, his eyes sparkling, as I came in through the door.

  I told them what I had found out through the P.I.'s report and online about Nancy and Sheila and Bobby Harris.

  “Les never talked about his past,” Martin said. “Interesting about Nancy and Sheila being related. Never liked either of them.” Martin's face grew a deep red. “But I still think the killer is Nancy.”

  “The plot thickens,” Anne said.

  “I plan to do a little investigating in regards to Sheila,” I said.

  “Such as?” Martin asked, his eyes lit up. He rubbed his hands together.

  I hesitated. “It'd be better if you didn't know,” I said.

  His eyes widened, followed by a grin that couldn't be contained. “You're not the only one who wants to have some fun. We want to have an adventure while we're still young.”

  “This isn't fun.” I grew annoyed at the sound of his enthusiasm. “Remember, it's not a game. If they are murderers, this could be quite dangerous.”

  As I said good-bye to the three of them, I sensed danger when I looked into Martin's eyes.

  * * * *

  After dinner, I left to help Deirdre paint her shop. I put a second pair of shoes in the trunk of my car. We parked in front of her shop, and Deirdre went in to start getting the paint mixed up and ready to go. I walked towards the patisserie pounding the freshly fallen snow, trying to avoid the icy patches, to pick up some desserts before they closed; I didn't expect the selection to be particularly varied or fresh at this time of night.

  Marissa wasn't out front when I walked into the patisserie. I looked into the first dining room for her and stopped. Seated at a table were the Chief of Police Kirk, Robert Peterson, and Nancy Reinhardt. Why were the three of them together? Kirk look distressed when he saw me walk in. He took a handkerchief out of his shirt pocket and patted his forehead. After Nancy looked up, she put her head closer to theirs, and started talking, obviously saying something to them about me. As she spoke, Kirk and Peterson glanced towards me.

  I jumped when Marissa addressed me. “Kay, can I help you?”

 
“Yes.” I followed Marissa towards the mostly-empty pastry display shelves to pick through the leftovers.

  When I got back to Deirdre's shop I told her about seeing Kirk, Robert, and Nancy being at the patisserie, and about the private investigator's report and Lola's chart.

  “I knew there had to be a deeper truth shrouded in darkness. Everyone is ready to remain in darkness and accept this crime as an accident. It's up to you to shine a light on the truth of the matter!”

  Good, enthusiastic Deirdre. “I plan on making sure the truth gets out there. And you can help me, if you'd like.”

  “How? What can I do?”

  “I was wondering if you'd like to go with me to Sheila's place?”

  “Why, has she invited you?”

  “Well no. I just want to look around, maybe look through the windows...”

  Enthusiasm left Deirdre. She gave me a weird look. “And if one is open...”

  “Well, that would be an invitation.”

  “Kay, that's breaking and entering. What do you hope to learn?”

  “I don't know. I'm looking for clues, but—”

  “Didn't you learn anything from breaking into the other house when you were working on the ginseng case?”

  “Yes, we learned a lot from breaking into that house. It was our big break, finding out a number of those who and what they were involved in.”

  Deirdre made a disgusted face. “Just what clues are you going to look for at Sheila's? A giant jar of peanut butter?”

  “Who knows, if it's a giant jar, that might make her a serial killer. Sorry, that's not funny.”

  Deirdre laughed. “It is, actually. But your plan is too dangerous.”

  “We could go during the lunch hour at the Home. Sheila can't leave then.”

  Deirdre didn't say anything. She just shook her head.

  “I know it's terrible, but how else am I going to find anything out?” I said, glancing at the paint cans. “All I know is that I need to look for the truth. Maybe Elizabeth will go with me. She was thrilled last time.” I looked up at Deirdre. She shook her head. “Sorry.”