There was another charge to add to my growing list of criminal offenses. Impersonating a police officer. I wondered how much time I’d get for that one.
“Anything else?” the reporter prompted.
“She made insinuating comments about my wife’s million-dollar inheritance.”
That sparked a reaction from Sue. Her head swiveled around to her husband and she frowned. “We weren’t going to tell anybody that,” she said to him. “And now you said it right on television, in front of the world. What’s wrong with you?” She moved closer to him. If I was Dave, I’d start running. Sue had forgot she was in front of a camera.
“But, Honey.”
“Don’t honey me.” The camera operator must not have wanted the program to turn into some bawdy reality show, because he panned away from the dueling duo, following the news guy as he moved away from them.
“Thank you for coming forward,” the news reporter said to Onni, who trailed behind him. “One last question. Do you have any idea where Gertie Johnson might have gone? It seems that she’s disappeared from the face of the earth.”
“I don’t know where she’s gone, but I know where she’s going.” Onni glared into the camera for effect. “Gertie Johnson is going to Hell.”
The reporter gave a weak laugh for the camera and said, “I assume you’re talking about Hell, Michigan, otherwise we might have to censor you.”
“You know exactly what I meant. She’s goin-“
The story ended there. At least for me. I’d seen enough.
When I left the dark, smoky bar, the sun was still shining. I thought for sure it must be the middle of the night. So much had happened.
From the driver’s seat of Walter’s rusted-out truck, I considered the circumstances and my options. There weren’t any choices available to me that I could readily see. I was almost out of cash, I didn’t have anything to wear other than the man-hunting outfit Cora Mae duded me up in, and my spirit was gone.
How was I going to prove Tony had killed Bob Goodyear if Tony was murdered? He couldn’t confess, which seemed to be the only way I could possibly get out of this mess.
Wait a minute!
What was I thinking!
I had been so busy feeling sorry for myself and my friends that I overlooked a glaringly, obvious question.
Why had Tony been murdered? It was looking more and more like he had been part of a scheme, a ring of criminals. I had assumed Tony was the kingpin, but maybe not. Whoever murdered Tony knew the truth, and that truth could set me free, right along with all my friends and family that I had managed to get into such major trouble. Now all I had to do was locate that person and force a confession.
Simple, right?
Well, no, but it gave me direction and something even more important that I thought I’d lost. It gave me hope.
Chapter 29
I HAD A WILD IDEA THAT I might find clues at Tony’s turkey hunting blind. No real reason. It just popped into my head. “Go to Tony’s hunting blind,” my head ordered. I was back in private investigator mode, back to believing in intuition and luck.
When I came into the clearing, a flock of turkeys trotted for cover, all screeching the call they make when they’re frightened. Turk-turk-turk. Tony’s blind had a few creature comforts behind its exterior of straw bales. I sat down on a hunting stool and opened a small cooler. I found homemade jerky and one beer inside, and made hasty work of them both, since I was famished.
The forest was alive with bird chatter this late afternoon. A blue jay landed close by, looking for seeds. I saw one of the turkey scouts poke her head out from behind a stand of fir trees, one enormous, superwoman telephoto lens. She stared at the blind while I watched from a tiny hole in the straw. After a minute, she ducked back in the woods and disappeared.
The Upper Michigan backwoods is my favorite place to be. It’s so alive. Aside from deer and turkeys, we have black bears, gray wolves, an occasional moose, red foxes, coyotes, cougars. And that’s only a list of the large mammals. I could go on all day.
The air was warm, birds sang, and I stretched out on some loose straw to rest and think. That’s when my husband Barney decided to visit me again. I was so glad to see him, although I wished he’d show up the times I called out to him for guidance. He always did whatever he wanted, and that hadn’t changed even with death.
Barney looked exactly the same as last time, he hadn’t aged a bit in two years. More than I could say for myself. I’m surprised he recognized me in the clothes and wig I wore. But he sat down beside me, got comfy, and placed his hand on the side of my cheek like he used to do.
We didn’t say anything for awhile. I was afraid he would vanish if I uttered a single word. Finally, he spoke. “Everything is going to be all right,” he said. “It’ll work itself out like it always does.”
“Can’t you help me?” I said, as quietly as I could, so I wouldn’t jar away the dream. “Give me some direction. A place to start. A glimpse into the future.”
“You have to let go.”
“Of you? Never.”
“Of fear.”
“I have quite a lot to be fearful about. Have you been paying attention to what’s been happening lately?”
He smiled and I saw the old twinkle in his eye that he used to get when I amused him in some way. “You have so much love in you,” he said. “Let it out. Trust your friends and family. They’re all you have, but they’re precious, the most important part of your life.”
“These days it’s hard to tell who’s who.”
“Inside you know.”
We stayed together like that. I could feel real warmth radiating from him even though I knew he was only a dream.
When I sat up he was gone. I remembered what he said to me, but I didn’t understand a single word of it.
Night moves in fast in the forest. One minute the world was a soft gray. The next minute everything went dark. I heard the flapping of large wings, a rush of air, and an entire gang of gobblers and hens settled in the maple tree above me for the night.
What was Tony thinking to put his blind right under a roost? No skilled turkey hunter would do that. Turkeys like to roost together in the same spot every night. At first dark, when their eyesight starts to go, the whole bunch takes to their favorite tall trees.
A hunter needs to find out where they spend the night, then set up about a hundred yards off, hoping that when morning comes, they’ll fly in that direction. He doesn’t set up right under the roost.
That got me thinking about the whole point of Tony’s turkey hunting blind. If he wanted a secure love nest, wouldn’t he have picked something a little more comfortable, like a motel? I answered my own question. Maybe not. There’s something exciting and romantic about the call of the wild. Maybe the woods brought out the animal in Tony. Besides, if someone had spotted his car in a motel parking lot, it would have been all over town within minutes. The only prying eyes out here didn’t speak our language, so they couldn’t tell on him.
Who was Tony seeing behind Lyla’s back? That answer was important. I had to find out.
It was too dark to find my way out of the woods, which didn’t matter much, since I had no place to go. If I wanted a safe house for the night, this was as good as any. And the price was right. I heard wings flap in alarm overhead when I rearranged some of the straw to keep warm, but they settled in again, confident that they were safe from predators for the night.
I slept well, knowing I was safe for at least a little longer, too.
____________________
At the first sign of dawn, the woods woke up. My turkey friends spotted me and left the tree in a hurry. I kicked around under a dead grove of elms and found a few morel mushrooms. They aren’t quite as tasty raw and gritty with dirt, but I was hungry. Usually I like them sautéed in butter, but an investigator, aka the hunted, has to make do.