Read Murder of a Sweet Old Lady Online
Authors: Denise Swanson
Murder of a Sweet Old Lady (27 page)
Meanwhile, Skye had composed two columns. One for murder-related activities and one for pranks. The slashed tires and broken windows were definitely annoyances. The other events were lined up neatly on the other side. This latest incident had a question mark.
As she wrote, Skye remembered something she wanted to ask May. She poked her head into the dispatch area. May was flipping through a
Family Circle,
obviously still upset.
Family Circle,
obviously still upset.
Skye walked farther into the room and stopped in front of her mother’s chair. “I forgot, I have a question for you.”
May closed the magazine. “Oh?”
“Yeah, do you remember Minnie dropping out of school her senior year?” Skye hooked a chair with her foot and brought it toward her.
“Yes, it was before you were born and Vince was right around a year old.” May looked puzzled.
“Do you recall why she didn’t finish?”
“Well, I was really busy back then trying to keep up with Vince and the house and all, but I believe she had sort of a nervous breakdown, and went away somewhere to rest.” May frowned. “I think Mona went along to keep her company.”
“Did you find anything in that odd? I mean, did Minnie seem to be heading that way to you?”
May chewed her lip. “Now that you mention it, at the time I wondered a little. Minnie seemed okay to me.”
“And why take Mona out of school?”
“Mona hated to miss school. She was the smart one. We all thought she’d go to college for sure, but she seemed different when she got back.”
“Different?”
“More serious. Less frivolous.”
“Did you say anything to Grandma or Grandpa?”
“Grandma just said that I had been too busy to notice Minnie’s condition. Grandpa forbade me to speak of it, and ordered me to forget it.” May’s eyes widened. “And I did until you mentioned it.”
“Wow, Grandpa must have been pretty intimidating.”
“Oh, he was, he was.” May sat silently, seemingly lost in thoughts of the past, until the phone rang. “Yes, okay, good. I’ll tell her.” She turned toward Skye. “That was the chief. He said they’re pretty sure the blood was from a deer. They found the hide and entrails nearby.”
“But no sign of who did it?” Skye got up and fetched her list. She slowly erased the question mark. Another prank.
“No, but he said there didn’t seem to be any danger and you can go home.”
“Great.” Skye sighed. “Any idea how to remove deer blood from concrete and siding?”
“Call the twins. Their husbands hunt all the time.” May went back to her post, the excitement over for now.
Skye considered her mother’s advice and decided to go one better. Not only would she consult her cousins for cleaning tips, she would invite them to brunch on Sunday.
The twins might be able to tell her something about Minnie, since she couldn’t get in to see her aunt herself, and Victoria might let something slip about Dante or Hugo. Too bad her Aunt Mona didn’t have any kids to pump for information.
It was difficult to make herself walk through the bloodied threshold of her cottage. Wally had obviously tried to wipe the worst of it off, but brownish-red streaks remained.
Bingo met her at the door demanding food and attention until a breeze carried in the coppery smell of blood. Suddenly, he danced backward, his fur standing in a ridge down his spine. He streaked out of the foyer and slunk under the bed.
The light was blinking on Skye’s answering machine when she got to the kitchen. Before doing anything else, she washed her hands and took a bottle of Ice Mountain from the fridge. After a few swigs of the spring water she sat down at the table and pushed the play button.
“Skye? This is Doc. Pulled in a few favors and got that information you wanted. Esther Prynn is living in Chicago. Here’s her address and phone.” After relaying that data Doc went on, “Haven’t had time to go over my records yet. I’ll let you know what I find.”
She stopped the machine and made a careful note, then got up to check on Bingo. Only his eyes were visible as they glowed in the darkness.
Creeping forward on her stomach, Skye called, “Here kitty, kitty. Bingo, it’s okay, sweetie.”
He didn’t even blink.
After trying food and his favorite toys to lure him out, Skye said, “Fine, stay there. I never knew you were such a ’fraidy cat.”
She returned to the kitchen and played the last message.
“This is Karolyn. I’m calling for Superintendent Wraige. He would like to see you Monday at one to discuss the Clapp matter.”
Shit, shit, shit! I still haven’t figured out a way to keep my job and my integrity. What am I going to do?
Skye was surprised by her cousins’ easy acceptance of her invitation for brunch. She had always felt a misfit among her family. At parties the conversations centered around children and housekeeping, subjects to which she could contribute little.
The twins had both married before they turned twenty and produced children shortly afterward. Skye was graduating from college while they were changing diapers. She was leaving the Peace Corps when they were sending their firstborns to kindergarten. It was almost worse with Victoria, whose only focus was to be invited to the right parties and belong to the correct country club.
Making an effort to drown out her thoughts, Skye put on a Patsy Cline CD and turned the volume high. At least she had gotten instructions from her cousins for washing up deer blood. And maybe the brunch would give her a chance to get closer to them.
After mixing the cleaning solution as directed, Skye took a brush and set to work.
Skye had a date with Simon the next day. He was picking her up at nine and they were going to spend all of Saturday together. She got up at seven so she’d have time both to get ready and call her mom.
May answered on the first ring. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. In fact, I took your advice about asking the twins how to clean deer blood.”
“That’s great.”
“Of course I didn’t tell them the real reason I was asking, so make sure you don’t tell either.”
“Why would I say anything? I’m just glad to see you talking to your cousins.”
“Actually, I went a little further.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, well, I, ah, invited them over for brunch tomorrow. Victoria, too.”
“That’s great. Maybe you’ll all get to be closer now that you’re home.”
“I hope so.”
“What are you serving?”
“I’ll start with mimosas and Bellinis.” The champagne drinks were sure to loosen tongues. “Next, cantaloupe bowls with fresh fruit and quiche. And your famous lemon silk sherbet with dream bars for the perfect ending.”
Simon arrived precisely on time, looking cool and elegant in khakis and a short-sleeved denim shirt. Skye wore a denim skort and striped polo shirt.
After Simon gave Bingo the appropriate number of pets and scratches they got into Simon’s Lexus.
Hand on the wheel, Simon asked, “Where to, my lady? Your chauffeur awaits.”
“Are you sure you don’t have somewhere in mind?”
“Nope, it’s up to you.” Simon smiled and took her hand.
“Well, last time you let me choose, you didn’t like it, but if you’re truly a man of your word . . .” Skye trailed off, watching his reaction.
Simon’s eyes narrowed as he recalled the instance she referred to. “One qualification: nothing illegal.”
“Okay, I can live with that.” Under her breath Skye added, “Probably.”
“So, what do you want to do?”
“Go visit a little old lady.”
CHAPTER 20
How I Wonder What You Are
One of the reasons Skye needed to talk Simon into going to see the old nurse was because she was afraid to drive in Chicago. She mostly blamed this on her lousy sense of direction, although sometimes she wondered if it wasn’t really because May had frightened her when she was a teen with stories of all the awful things that took place in big cities.
Simon’s voice broke through her reflections. “What’s the address?”
“It’s 11502 Avenue D,” Skye read off a slip of paper.
He reached into the pouch on the door and withdrew an atlas of the city and surrounding suburbs. After studying it for several minutes, he inserted his business card to keep his page and placed the book between them. “That’s on the south side. A changing neighborhood, as they say.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that at one time it was a mostly working-class Polish area, but about ten years ago poorer minorities started moving in and the whites moved out. The elderly were pretty much left behind.” Simon started the car and guided it out of the driveway.
“Why?”
“Most of them hung on too long and when they finally wanted to move, the value of their houses had decreased so much they could no longer afford to go. Because they were on fixed incomes, they had nothing more to add to the pot.” He drove steadily, exiting onto Interstate 55.
“I figured Esther is anywhere from sixty to eighty-five. Minnie’s friend said Minnie was a senior when she went away, so she must have been about seventeen or eighteen. She’s fifty now, so this whole thing took place about thirty-three or four years ago. But if what you say about the neighborhood is true, Esther’s probably on the older end of my estimate.”
“Let me get this straight. You want to find this woman because she took care of your aunts thirty-three years ago when Minnie had a breakdown. Right?”
“Right. I’d like to know more about what everyone calls a breakdown. There are a lot of mental states that could refer to.” Skye watched as he skillfully maneuvered through the thick traffic.
“And you need to know this because . . . ?” Simon trailed off.
“Because I want to know if Minnie has a history of mental illness that would suggest she is capable of harming either herself or others.”
“You still question whether she really attempted suicide?”
“Yes, but if she did, she’s certainly a prime suspect for having also killed Grandma.” Skye was surprised at the lump that gathered in her throat and the sorrow she still felt over her grandmother’s death.
They drove in companionable silence, listening to a classical music station that Simon favored. At first Skye knew where she was, but after the third change of highway she became hopelessly lost.
When Simon finally exited onto 103rd Street, it looked as if they had traveled to another country. Signs were in Spanish, Polish, and languages she didn’t recognize.
A few turns and Simon stopped the car in front of a detached two-story home. Its siding appeared to be made of gravel and tar paper. The windows and door were heavily barred.
They climbed steep concrete steps, holding on to the black metal railing. There were two bells. Neither had a name. Skye looked at Simon, who shrugged. Taking a guess, she pressed the bottom bell and hoped for the best.
They waited. They could hear shuffling sounds that seemed to grow nearer. Finally the front door was flung open, leaving the barred storm door between them and the woman on the other side.
Her size and age were hard to determine because she was bent over with a dowager’s hump on her back. She leaned on a cane and scowled.
Skye felt herself rushing to find the right words. “Hello, my name is Skye Denison and this is my friend Simon Reid. We’re looking for Esther Prynn.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you Ms. Prynn?”
“I don’t go for that Miz crap. I’m Miss Prynn. Have been for the last seventy-five years and will be on my tombstone.”
“We’re from Scumble River. I understand you did some private duty nursing there back in the sixties.” Skye made herself sound more sure of her facts than she was.
“Maybe. Used to help out lots of folks from the country. What’s it to you?”
“Would it be possible for us to come in and discuss this? I’m sure your neighbors don’t need to know our business.” Skye put her hand on the door handle. This was sort of like a home visit. Not pleasant, but something she was trained to do.
Miss Prynn looked them both up and down, then demanded, “Let me see some identification.”
They pressed their driver’s licenses against the bars. She squinted between the tiny photos and their faces, finally unlocking the door and permitting them to pass. She carefully turned keys and bolts behind them.
Once inside, they found themselves in a small foyer with scarred wooden steps leading upstairs. To their right was another door.
It was through that portal that their hostess led them to a small living room crowded with dusty overstuffed furniture. There was one hard chair in the room, and Skye, remembering the advice of a social worker during her training, chose to sit there. Miss Prynn settled into what was obviously “her” chair, which left the couch for Simon.
“So, what’s so important? I’m missing my TV program.” Miss Prynn clutched the remote.
“Do you remember working a case in Scumble River about thirty-three years ago?” Skye sat forward.
Miss Prynn rubbed her temple. “Maybe. I worked lots of cases in that neck of the woods.”
“I was told that back in the early to mid-sixties you helped out when one of my aunts had a nervous breakdown. Her name was Minnie Leofanti.”
“Mmm, Leofanti. That name does sound familiar. But I’m remembering a different first name.” Miss Prynn stared at the blank television screen. “Name was Mona, not Minnie.”
Skye, hardly containing her excitement, struggled to keep her voice level. “Well, as I understand it, Minnie’s younger sister, Mona, accompanied her when you came for them. Could that be the mix-up?”
Miss Prynn sank back in her chair. “Sure, I remember now. Two girls, both in their teens. Pretty little things. Didn’t look at all Eyetalian like their name.”
Skye restrained herself from correcting the older woman’s pronunciation and explaining about the blonds of northern Italy. “Yes, that would be them. Do you remember where you took them for treatment?”
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