Denise Swanson - Murder of a Sweet Old Lady

May subtly nudged the food nearer to Skye. “Where in the heck could everyone be? I know the guys are probably staying late in the fields. Those heavy spring rains really put everyone’s planting behind schedule. But Minnie, Mona, and Olive should be home.”

Skye absentmindedly took a wedge of cheddar. “Should we try their kids’ numbers?”

“Soon, but I wanted to tell my sisters and brother about Mom before we told their kids.” May took a cracker but didn’t put it in her mouth. “When Vince gets back, we’ll have him take a ride by the cousins’ houses and see if their parents’ cars or trucks are there.”

“I could do that right now.” Skye put the cheese down.

Minnie’s twin daughters, Ginger and Gillian, lived next door to each other in town. Dante’s son, Hugo, lived in Clay Center, only fifteen minutes away.

“No, honey, stay with me. Okay?” May squeezed Skye’s knee.

“Sure, Mom. As long as you want.”

Vince got back about an hour later. Some of the farmland was as far away as Streator. He flung himself into a chair and grabbed a piece of cheese. “I found Uncle Emmett. He was over near Gardner. Says Aunt Minnie is at Carle Clinic and he’ll call her.”

May paled. “What’s wrong with Minnie? Why’d she go all the way down to the hospital in Urbana by herself?”

Vince shrugged and took a cracker, which he carefully layered with Swiss. “Uncle Emmett didn’t say. I was in a hurry to find the others so I didn’t stick around and ask. Sorry.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart. You did a good job. Did you find anyone else?” May got up and took the bread from its box.

“Nope. No one was at home or in any of their fields.”

May put out sliced roast beef and chips. “I’m going to call Hugo. Maybe he knows where his parents are. I don’t know what to do about Mona and Neal, since they don’t have any children.” She nodded toward the food on the table. “Make yourself a sandwich, kids. This is stacking up to be a long night.”

About eight-thirty Jed returned and sat down at the table. May immediately filled a plate for him and he started to eat without a word. Lines of exhaustion creased his forehead and radiated from his eyes. During spring planting, farmers often worked from dawn until they could no longer see by using their tractor’s lights.

She spoke while he chewed. “Minnie’s down at Carle Clinic. God knows why. I sure hope she doesn’t have one of her spells when we tell her about Mom.” She paused to put more food on Jed’s dish. “Emmett and the twins should be here soon. Hugo says his parents left for an auction about five, and were going to stop for dinner afterward. Still nothing on Mona and Neal.”

Jed nodded.

May sat back down and buried her head in her arms. “I can’t stand it. Mom’s dead, Minnie’s sick with who-knows-what, and Mona’s missing. What’s going on?”

Skye patted her mom’s hand. “Maybe Minnie is finally getting some help for those spells she gets.” For a long time Skye had thought Minnie’s spells were probably a form of a depressive disorder such as dysthymia. Not that the family had listened to her gentle hints that Minnie should see a psychiatrist for an evaluation.

“How about Mona and Dante?”

Skye rubbed May’s back. “I’m sure they’re all fine.”

Hearing her own words, she frowned. Where have I heard that before?

CHAPTER 3

A Diller, a Dollar, See How They Holler

Skye was in the bathroom talking to Simon on the phone. She had stretched the cord as far as it would go in order to talk in private. “Simon, you can’t call it natural causes. Grandma may have been old but she wasn’t sick. What did Doc Zello say?”

“Doc Zello isn’t happy with that cause of death either, but he can’t give me an alternative, and considering her age and your family’s reputation in the community, he’ll sign off.”

Sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, Skye gripped the receiver. “No, it isn’t right. If Doc has doubts and I have doubts, then we should have an autopsy done.”

“But why? Surely you don’t suspect that someone murdered your grandma.”

“I don’t want to think so, but I do want to know for sure what happened.” Skye paused and petted Bingo, who had insisted on following her into the bathroom. “Simon, there’s a lot that doesn’t feel right. I told Wally earlier all the things that were weird about the situation.”

“What do you mean? Wally didn’t mention anything.”

Skye took a deep breath. She knew Wally had ignored what she said. “First, the cat was outside. He is never, ever allowed outdoors because he is declawed and has no way to defend himself. Second, the housekeeper is missing. No note, nothing. Third, when I found Grandma she was all tucked into bed. The covers were pulled over her face. She wouldn’t have done that herself. She was claustrophobic. And, I know this last one is lame, but between the time I pulled in and the time I called you, someone was in the garage and left the door ajar.”

When she finished, the only sound from Simon’s side of the line was static. Finally he said, “Okay, I’ll talk to Chief Boyd and Doc Zello, but don’t let your imagination run wild. I’ll come out to your grandmother’s after I finish up tonight.”

Minnie’s husband, Emmett Overby, and their identical twin daughters arrived around nine. Ginger Allen and Gillian Tubb were twenty-nine, with big blue eyes and baby-fine blond hair. Emmett, at fifty-two, looked like the farmer from Grant Wood’s famous painting, American Gothic.

Sinking into the remaining kitchen chair, Emmett took off his cap and ran his fingers through his graying hair. “I couldn’t get ahold of Minnie. The motel she’s at says she’s not in her room.”

May glanced sideways at Ginger and Gillian. “Why is she down there, Emmett? What’s wrong with her?”

He looked at his hands dangling between his legs. “Woman trouble.”

“Oh? Why’d she go all by herself?” May swept cracker crumbs into a pile.

Tugging at the neck of his T-shirt, Emmett refused to look up. “Says it’s private.”

“What do you girls know about this?” May turned to the twins.

Both answered, “Nothing, Aunt May.”

May narrowed her eyes until Ginger continued, “Mom’s been having some problems with the change.” She turned red as she caught Vince’s eye.

Gillian claimed a stool next to the wall near the telephone. This left Ginger to drag a chair in from the dining room.

Gillian eyed the food spread across the tabletop. “I see you all have been making yourselves at home.” She turned to Skye. “Next thing we know you’ll be clearing out the closets. I hope you realize this is not a case of first come, first served. My mom has just as much claim on Grandma’s property as yours does.”

Skye had been silent, mulling over the inconsistencies leading to her grandmother’s death, but Ginger’s comment penetrated her fog. “Ginger, let me ask you a question. When the Lion King was killed trying to save his son, did you find that a sad moment . . . at all?”

Vince let out a bark of laughter, but bit it off before it could grow. Jed’s lip curled slightly. May shot Skye a mother-look that silenced her, at least temporarily.

Expressions of confusion were replaced with those of rage as Ginger and Gillian began to understand what Skye had said.

Gillian spoke up. “That was entirely uncalled for. How could you be so cruel? After all, we’re still reeling from Grandma’s passing.” A sob broke her voice. “Unlike your family, we just found out about it a little while ago.” She paused for breath. “Speaking of that, why did it take you so long to let us know?”