One More Time Takes Two Page 4
Monday morning. Sam and Elsie woke up at seven, give or take a few minutes. Both checked their cells for messages from each other, both only found them from someone else. Both wondered if the other was awake yet.
Sam was pulling up Elsie’s number when he got her call. Darn that woman, beat him to the draw. “Was just calling you. Fell asleep on the couch.”
“You, too? Well, aren’t we a pair of couch potatoes? I did the same thing. Listen, I did some research on that murder. Should hear more this morning from a policeman friend of mine.”
“That was smart, dear one. Nice to know my own research won’t duplicate yours. I told Henrietta to run all the financial possibilities on the house. I’m interested in the place, and while I’d rather it be the two of us, I can’t let an opportunity like that one slide. She’ll get back to me sometime today.”
“You…you’d move away if I didn’t go with it?”
“Elsie, this place is getting to me. I need to close the door on the past or I won’t have much of a future. I think you’re in the same boat, too, but I’m not going to tell you what to do. Hang on…we don’t talk about stuff like this over the phone. I’ll brew.”
“I’ll bake. It’ll take a little longer than usual, have to do it from scratch. Didn’t go shopping yesterday like I planned.”
Half an hour later on Elsie’s porch, the comfort factor was re-establishing itself when a sizable Dodge Coronet drove up and parked in the road between the two houses’ entry ways. A man in a sports jacket got out, well built, short hair, with a tie. He came up the walkway and asked, “Excuse me, Ms. Elsie Partlow?”
“I didn’t do it, if you’re a police person. If you’re from Publisher’s Clearing House, you have the right person.”
“Um, you know my wife…Madeline Cohen.”
“Oh, my! YOU’RE ‘Steamy Stevie’?”
Sam lightly slapped his forehead, saying, “Elsie, Elsie. Are you flipping nuts?”
But the Detective laughed. He had long ago come to terms that women and their stylists had no secrets from each other. “The same, Ma’am. Madeline asked me to swing by and tell you about a case. It’s public knowledge, but hard to pull all the details unless you know where to look. Just take a couple of minutes. It’s kind of hard to listen to. You ok with that?”
Elsie insisted the man sit and have some biscuits with butter and jam and a cup of coffee. Detective Steven Cohen managed to at least insist he sit on the steps while he talked, ate, and sipped. Elsie told him what she had found from the CNN site.
“That’s a good start. At least you’re kind of prepared. Caught the guy who killed the couple. Drug addict, still serving time and will continue for a minimum of another twenty years. You won’t have to worry about him, or whoever is interested in the house won’t have to.
“From what we discovered, Bart Strasser broke into the house from the kitchen window. The husband and wife heard the noise. Wife had a medical condition that made it hard for her to get around…that I can’t tell you about, and it’s really not all that important. The husband confronted the guy and managed to get in a good whack with one of his wife’s canes. Busted Strasser’s left collar bone, and the invader shot the husband. The wife managed to get to him, not sure if he was still alive at that point, and she shielded him with her body. Strasser admitted under questioning that she had seen his face and he freaked. He killed her to protect his identity, freaked out more and ran out without so much as a silver spoon to show for his crime. Caught Strasser at the Madison General’s ER, saying he was assaulted by a mugger who caused his fracture. If the twit had simply said he fell down some stairs, he might have gotten away with it. But since he was reporting a criminal assault, we got called in. The investigating officer smelled a rat and kept an eye on the guy. Sure enough, the call regarding the double homicide had some evidence that connected Strasser as a potential killer. Long story short, he finally confessed, was tried and convicted.
“That’s the sum and total of it. The son took up residence with the mother’s parents, graduated high school and went to college. Does that help you guys out?”
Elsie had no idea Carl was going to send the actual Detective over for ‘to the door delivery’, and told him so.
“No problem, Ma’am. You two have a nice, quiet, relaxing day.”
That sounded like something you’d say to old people. They weren’t old people. Elsie replied, “Thank you, dear. We were going to take it easy today. What do you think Sam…skip the sky diving and mountain climbing and just suit up for paintball wars?”
“Suits me. I’m still sore from roller derby yesterday.”
The detective did a double take, but couldn’t stay to see if his chain was being yanked. There were crimes to investigate and, while it wasn’t the safest thing to do, pulling a Detective’s leg hadn’t been outlawed as of yet. Besides, if he upset Ms. Partlow one iota, Madeline would rip him a new one.
“Sam, I’m glad the Detective came by. What an awful thing that was to happen, but now that I know the details, it’s not quite as frightening. Isn’t that odd?”
“I agree, but there still a bone chill factor to it. Elsie? Do you believe in ghosts?”
She thought about it. “Yes, I do, but I don’t think they’re something to be afraid of. We’re all ghosts under the skin that are enjoying the ride. Once the skin dies, why would we change? Most of us move on, I’m told. There’s stories out there about some who stay back to tell their loved ones something. But don’t ask me to spend a night there in the house just yet. We aren’t the Hardy Boys.”
Sam asked, “Now that we know about the house’s history, I wonder how much different we’d feel actually walking around inside again.”
There was silence for a minute, rocked in rhythm and broken by the occasional sip. Elsie and Sam looked at each other. She nodded. He speed dialed, then put it on public.
“Sam, I’m not ready yet with the numbers. Checking several lenders for you.”
“Not why I’m calling, Henrietta dear. Mind if we borrow the lock box key? We want to get a new feel for the place.”
“No key, Hon. Combination lock. Push 5443 and it’ll pop open and give you the door key. Steve stop by with the dope on the murders?”
Elsie was surprised. “How did you know about that?”
“Elsie, dearest. We’re women. We all go to the same salon. Do the math. Sam, I’ll give you two a holler when I feel comfortable with the numbers. Oh, no liens on either of your homes?”
She was answered in the negative, satisfying the agent for the time being.