“We’re interested in a family that owned this house a long time ago,” Serena said. “Their name was Mathisen. This was back in the 1960s and 1970s.”
“Mathisen? Well, that’s a good North Dakota name. I’m Pamela, by the way. Pamela Anderson. And yes, don’t say it, I’ve heard the jokes. Imagine my horror ten years ago when I realized what my married name would be.” She laughed. “I got my husband a framed pinup of the other Pamela as a wedding present.”
“So you’ve only lived on this property for ten years?” Serena asked.
“Me? Yes, but my husband has been here since he was a boy. This was the family home. I didn’t even realize anyone had owned the place before his parents did.”
“How old is your husband?”
“Not old enough to help you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Pamela replied. “He was born in 1973. However, my mother-in-law lives with us. This was her house until her husband died, and then she deeded it to us. Of course, I have no idea whether she knew anything about the people who lived here before she did, but around here, everyone has a way of knowing everyone else’s business.” She smiled.
“May we talk to her?” Serena asked.
“Oh, of course, she’ll love it. She’s in a wheelchair now and mostly blind from diabetes. You’ll be the highlight of her day.”
Pamela led them inside. Serena heard George Strait crooning on the stereo, and she grinned at Maggie, who rolled her eyes. The Labrador bounded up to greet them, concluding that they must be friends because they’d been allowed inside the house. Serena got down on her knees and mussed his fur.
“I’ve got some fresh pie,” Pamela said. “Would you like some?”
Serena saw Maggie smirk. She knew all about Serena’s diet.
“It sounds wonderful, but I better resist,” Serena said.
“I’ll take a big piece,” Maggie said. “With ice cream, if you have it.”
Pamela looked pleased. “I’ll be back. Mary Ann has a room at the rear of the house, so I’ll bring her out to meet you.”
She left them alone.
“Warm apple pie,” Maggie said. “Yum.”
“Bitch,” Serena muttered.
They took seats on the tweed cushions of the sofa. Pamela returned with a large slice of pie, adorned with two scoops of vanilla ice cream, and a glass of milk. Cinnamon wafted from the plate. She put it on the oval coffee table in front of Maggie, who thanked her profusely. She picked up the plate, shoved a large forkful into her mouth, and chewed loudly.
“Wow, is this good,” she said with her mouth full.
“If you choke, I am not giving you the Heimlich,” Serena said.
Pamela came back, pushing a wheelchair in front of her. The woman in the chair had snow white hair that framed her head like a halo. Her sun-browned skin was wizened and flecked with black spots, and sunglasses shielded her eyes. She had a crocheted blanket spread over her lap, and below it, there was nothing at all. Her legs had been amputated below the knees.
“Mary Ann, these ladies are here to see you,” Pamela said.
“To see me? Well, isn’t that lovely.” Her voice crackled like Rice Krispies, but her demeanor was warm and sunny. Her dry lips curled into a smile. “I smell pie. Pamela uses my recipe. Four-time blue-ribbon winner at the North Dakota State Fair. Darling, I don’t suppose I could have a small piece?”
“Mary Ann,” Pamela chided her gently. “You know better.”
The old woman sighed. She put a finger to the side of her nose. “I can still tell when a pie is done just by the smell,” she said.
Pamela turned off the music and sat down in the armchair next to her mother-in-law, who slid her hands under the blanket to warm them. Serena and Maggie introduced themselves again.
“Minnesota?” Mary Ann said. “My husband and I had a favorite fishing resort near Brainerd. It’s a beautiful area. All those lakes and trees. Out here, it’s just miles and miles of corn.”
“Your daughter-in-law says you’ve lived in this house since the 1970s,” Serena said.
“Oh, yes, Henry and I bought a small parcel of land near Minot shortly after we got married, with some money we got from his grandfather. Henry did very well with it. He had a degree, you know. He was very scientific.”
“Near Minot? How did you end up here?”
“Well, my family was from Minot, and Henry’s family was from Fargo, and that caused difficulties at the holidays. Relatives always want you to be in two places at the same time. So eventually, Henry’s father told him about the Mathisen place going up for sale, and we moved down here. My parents were ready to retire anyway, and they got a small home in Casselton. So it all worked out well, you see.”
“Did you know the Mathisen family?” Maggie asked.
“Know them? Oh, no. As I said, we weren’t from around here. Henry’s parents knew them quite well, however. His parents had a farm about five miles east of here.”
“I wonder if your in-laws ever told you any stories about the Mathisens,” Serena said.
“Stories?”
“We’re trying to find out whatever we can about the family. Particularly their children.”
“I’m not sure if I can help you,” Mary Ann said. She tilted her head back, and her left hand darted from under the blanket to scratch her neck. “I don’t recall hearing very much about their children. They only had one, didn’t they? A boy? No, that’s right, the girl was older. She didn’t live there.”
“Did you hear anything unusual about the boy?”
“Unusual? I don’t think so. It’s just sad how it happened.”
“How what happened?” Maggie asked.
“Well, a teenage boy losing both of his parents. I hate to see it.”
“I heard the father died in a car accident,” Serena said.
“Yes, I think you’re right about that,” Mary Ann said. “It wasn’t easy to survive back then without a man in the house. It’s a wonder they made it at all. And then the mother-oh, how awful that was. I have to tell you, Henry and I weren’t sure we wanted to move into this house after that. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to sleep here.”
“Why?” Serena asked. “What happened to Inger Mathisen?”
“Oh, don’t you know? Being police, I just thought you would know. An intruder killed her. Murdered her in her bedroom. They said it was probably some drifter, looking for jewelry or cash. I just can’t believe anyone could do such a horrid thing. It’s bad enough to kill another human being, but how he did it-oh, dear, I still don’t like to think about it.”
“How was she killed?” Maggie asked.