The shades were still drawn and the door jamb was still pried loose where Tony had allegedly come in with the Orange Shoes. Nothing had changed at Shirley’s house since the last time I’d been there. Dirty dishes still cluttered the sink. Not a single thing more had been packed up – almost as though Shirley had abandoned her life here all together.

  I turned on Shirley’s television but it only had rabbit ears on the top of it and my limited channel surfing didn’t produce anything newsworthy.

  After that, I rummaged through cupboards and boxes and found what I needed. A shower later and the beginning of a second pot of coffee, and I felt human again. I even found workout clothes that fit me in one of the boxes. A dream come true for someone in my situation.

  What even made it better? A working phone. Shirley hadn’t turned off her utility services. Yippee. The tide was finally turning my way.

  The hospital had Kitty listed as a patient, so she was still alive. No one would tell me anything more than that. I cursed the federal government for all its so-called privacy measures, when all of us knew we didn’t have a bit of privacy from them.

  I called Lyla next. “I’m going after the person who killed Tony,” I said, quickly before she realized who she was talking to and hung up. “It won’t cost you a dime. I need to clear my name.”

  “Everybody says you killed him, Gertie.”

  “You know I didn’t. If I had, I would have shot him, not fixed it so he left the road above the river. You know that stretch of road isn’t my favorite. Down below is where I lost Barney. Besides, I didn’t even know where Tony was at the time he died.”

  Heck, I hadn’t known where he was most of the time when I was supposed to be trailing him. Catching him in Ruthie’s Restaurant had been a fluke. I had stumbled over him in one big accidental moment.

  “I hope they don’t start suspecting me next,” she said. “Tony and I had a terrible fight at the salon. Theymight blame me for his death, say I wanted to get rid of him.”

  She didn’t sound too broken up over Tony’s demise, but to be fair, she’d been through a lot of heartache with him.

  “I’ll clear both of us.” The lie slid easily over my lips. If Lyla had anything to do with Tony’s death, I’d turn her right in to free Blaze and Cora Mae. “Why did you suspect Tony of cheating in the first place? What made you hire the Trouble Busters?”

  “It was only suspicions and feelings. I didn’t know anything for fact.”

  “Did you have someone in mind? Someone you thought he was seeing?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “How can I help you if you won’t tell me what I need to know?”

  “But I’m not sure, and I’d hate to start rumors.”

  “Who am I going to tell? I don’t have a single friend left to gossip with.”

  “Okay, but keep it quiet. I don’t know if it’s true or not.”

  “I’ll keep it to myself.”

  “Before I hired you, Tony was hanging around at the credit union more than usual. And one day, when I was shopping in Escanaba, I saw him in a restaurant and he was with a woman.”

  “Who was he with?”

  “Sue Nenonen”

  “But she helps with the books at the credit union and he’s an accountant. It could have been strictly professional.”

  “Yes, that’s true. And when you followed him, you didn’t see him around the credit union or with Sue.” I could hear in her voice how bad she wanted to believe in Tony’s loyalty to her. “You didn’t, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  Even now I couldn’t tell Lyla about the tryst I’d semi-witnessed at the hunting blind. She needed to hold on to a few good memories of the cheating bum. If only I had kept my eyes on the blind instead of letting nature call, I’d know who the woman was. Had it been Dave’s wife, Sue?

  After reassuring Lyla that I’d do everything possible to catch Tony’s killer, I replayed the tape I’d run in the woods while scooting on my belly.

  “I don’t believe you,” the woman had said. The sound wasn’t crisp and clear. She’d lowered her voice, and she was angry.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Tony had said. “We’ll be together soon.”

  “I’ve heard that before.” Then giggling and they had made up the good old-fashion way.

  I played the tape back several times. Was Sue the woman in the woods?

  I called Sue and Dave’s home number, hoping Sue wasn’t already at the credit union crunching numbers. She picked up the phone on the second ring.

  “This is a representative for the Elizabeth Taylor perfume company,” I said to her, holding the recording unit as close as possible to the receiver. I wished I had a telephone hookup for my recorder. It would have simplified the process. “You’ve won a year’s supply of White Diamond perfume.

  “Is this a joke?” she asked. “I didn’t enter a contest.”

  “Your significant other must have signed you up for the drawing.”

  “Dave?”

  “Your significant other.” I put enough emphasize on ‘other’ to send the proper message. “You know what I mean.”

  Sue hung up.

  I replayed the tryst talk from the woods, then my perfume contest chat with Sue, but the sound was garbled. I couldn’t hear Sue at all. Remembering her voice from the few sentences she had uttered before hanging up, I didn’t think she was the woman in the woods. But a person’s voice is changed slightly both through a phone connection and when replayed on a recording unit.

  I couldn’t say absolutely positively that it wasn’t Sue.

  Now what?

  I played the tape over and over until I was fairly certain I could identify the voice if I ever heard it again. Then I called Laura Deland’s house. “This is Laura,” she said into her end of the phone when I asked for Laura.

  “This is Gertie. I thought I’d stop by and talk to Shirley.”

  “She’s gone. You just missed her.”

  “Gone as in moved? Or gone like to the store?”

  “She left for lower Michigan.”

  “But she didn’t take any of her things from her house.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Well, I…uh…I’m there right now.”

  “WHAT?”

  “I needed a place to stay.” Something was wrong. I shouldn’t have said that. Laura’s tone changed from friendly and helpful to wary and cunning. Something else was wrong, too, but I couldn’t place it.

  “I’m sure she wouldn’t want people in her house,” Laura said. I could tell she didn’t like it one bit. Was breaking and entering on my list of pending criminal charges yet? I couldn’t remember.

  “I was just leaving,” I said. “Sorry to have missed her.”

  I sat and stared at the phone. Then I replayed the tape, listening hard to the woman’s voice. Laura Deland’s voice was a dead-on match with the one from the woods.

  Chapter 30

  I WASN’T EXACTLY SURE WHAT to do with my new insight. That sweet young reporter just couldn’t have been dallying around with Tony Lento. She was beautiful. She could get any man she wanted. Why Tony? It had to be a mistake.

  And why did I tell her where I was? Now I’d have to vacate my last remaining hideout. Or did I? She was a reporter. Was she required to protect me, or was it optional? I didn’t know anything about news reporter ethics.

  I calmed down and thought it through, but all I came up with were more questions. Were Tony and Laura planning to run away with the credit union’s money? Did Bob kill Kent to keep him quiet? Did Tony kill Bob to silence him, too? Were the two love birds trying to set up Shirley by planting orange shoes in her house? Or was Shirley part of the scheme?

  The most perplexing question of all might never be answered. Why did the robber steal Monopoly money instead of real hundred dollar bills?

  I turned off the coffee pot, but didn’t try to cover my tracks by cleaning up. I had to confront Laura in person, force her to listen to the tape. She had some explaining to do. I’d get the truth out of her if I had to torture it out of her. I still had my weapons arsenal and I hadn’t used my stun gun recently. My trigger finger was itchy.

  ____________________

  I was backing out of Shirley’s driveway when George pulled in behind me, blocking my escape. I stayed where I was, palming my pepper spray, while he strode up to the truck window. If he yanked the door open or made any other aggressive gesture, he was getting it full on, no holds barred.

  “Dickey got a call-in tip a few minutes ago,” he said through the crack I’d made in the window. “He’s rounding up his volunteers and then he’ll head over here.”

  “You came to warn me?” I could have cried. What a wonderful man. And I was about to assault him with my pepper spray!

  George nodded. “I’ll have to circle around and come back over with them, or else they might suspect something’s up.”

  Laura hadn’t wasted any time calling in the troops after she found out where I was. “I don’t have any place to go,” I said.

  “Is it time to turn yourself in, Gertie? I’m sure we can find the truth.”

  “Never! Dickey’s a dope. And I have a few loose ends that might tie up the entire case, if only I can work them.”

  “We don’t have much time then. You need to go. Do what you have to do and meet me at my place later.”

  “I have a habit of ruining my friend’s lives. I’m a curse. You don’t want to get involved with me.”

  George grinned. “I can’t wait to get involved with you. Now go.”

  “What happened to Fred?” I called out the window as he ran back to his truck.

  “Fred’s back home with Grandma.”

  “Look out for him. He’s in hostile territory.”

  George backed up, clearing the way for my escape. One more time, I’d lucked out, turning away from the sound of sirens and blowing a cloud of dust up behind me. It would settle before they arrived. And Dickey would spend the rest of the day combing the neighborhood and lifting useless clues from Shirley’s house.

  As it turned out, I spent the rest of the day doing the same thing I suspected Dickey was doing. But instead of combing the woods, I was searching Escanaba for Laura Deland. She wasn’t at her house or at work. Either she was out on assignment, or she had skipped town.

  After hours of wasted effort, I put myself in her shoes. Mentally, of course. What would I do if I were her? Where would I go? Then it hit me. She’d be in Stonely driving right behind the sheriff, getting first dibs on a breaking story and killing two birds with one stone. She’d tipped off the cops to my whereabouts, now she got to reap the rewards by writing the wrap-up story. Both a personal and a professional coup.

  And I used to think she was sweet.

  If I ever got out of this mess, I’d have to improve my people analytical skills. My character judgment needed an overhaul. That’s what being on the run does to a person. Before my criminal career, I took trust for granted. Now, I couldn’t find any reason to believe in anyone.

  How could I have misjudged George so badly? He’d been a friend for years and years, and in one minute at Ruthie’s restaurant, with one misinterpreted look from him, I had been ready to count him out as a true friend. Had I seen only what I wanted to see? Was I afraid of him, of my feelings for him, of closeness?

  Driving back to Stonely to spend the night with George, I thought I understood Barney’s words better. I didn’t want to let go, like he’d advised me to do when we chatted at Tony’s blind. Barney had been my life, and I was still hanging on with all my might. But he was right. I didn’t have to forget him. And as he said, maybe I did have a lot of love inside me. I just had to release a part of my life that would never come back, that was gone for good. I had to move on. Start living and loving again.

  Tonight I was going to do it with the only other man I ever cared about.

  George had a big pot of chili simmering on the stove. Its wonderful aroma would have bowled me over, but Fred beat it to the punch. What a surprise! George grabbed me as I fell backwards while a two-ton black shepherd tackled me with slurpy, sloppy dog-breath kisses.

  “Thank you, George,” I cried, happier at that moment than I’d been in a long time. Both of my favorite males together, at least for this moment.

  We settled at the kitchen table, and I ate two bowls of George’s chili. It took a while because between bites I told him everything that had happened so far. I have a tendency to intentionally leave out facts when I tell a story, but this time, with George, he got the full text. We recorded our conversation on a fresh tape as a backup, in case anything happened to us. Neither of us wanted to think about what could happen.

  George suggested putting the tape in the mail and sending it back to his house. That way we could use it as leverage, just like in the movies. And no one could get their mitts on it in the meantime.

  George and I worked out a plan from the cushions of his leather sofa, side by side, holding hands and speaking in whispers while soft music played in the background. The drama of the situation made for heady sensations and impulses on my part. I kept glancing at George’s muscles. He wore a white T-shirt, the sleeves riding just above his biceps.

  I was sixty-six years old! Married to the same man for over forty years! I couldn’t believe what was going through my mind. And through the rest of my body. Barney was my first and I thought he’d be my last.

  “I’ll drop the tape in the mail first thing tomorrow,” George said. “You better stay out of sight and let me be your eyes and ears and legs.”

  I felt like I’d come home. To stop running and have three square meals a day, hanging out with George and Fred. I gave a big, contented sigh and could almost forget I was a hunted woman.

  “You’ll pick up Laura for me?” I asked. “So I can get some answers?”

  George ran a finger down my arm, sending shocks of electricity through all the right places. Until now, I hadn’t realized how much I missed a good man’s touch. “I’ll bring her to your doorstep,” he said.

  “I have a better idea,” I said.

  “You want me to bring her someplace else?”

  Could I go through with it? Maybe we could keep the lights off so he couldn’t see. I gulped. Then I remembered how George’s wife had run off at Christmas time all those years ago, leaving a letter on the kitchen table. As far as I knew, he hadn’t been with another woman since, not that I didn’t understand. After what she did!

  George might be just as nervous as I was. What if he said no? Shouldn’t I wait for him to make the first move? Doubt crept into my thoughts. What was I doing?

  If I thought about it much longer, I’d end up running out the door.

  “Laura has nothing to do with my better idea,” I said, standing up and leading him through the living room toward the bedroom. George scrunched his brow like he was trying to understand a foreign language without a single lesson to make it easy. By the next look on his face, I knew he’d caught on to my plan. When he didn’t pull back, I knew he approved.

  All I’m saying about that night is that Fred slept on the floor.

  The rest is between me and George.

  Chapter 31

  WHEN I WOKE UP, GEORGE was gone. It was ten o’clock in the morning. I hadn’t ever slept that long before. It must have something to do with the straw bed I had to sleep on Tuesday night, and…well…George and I hadn’t slept much through the night either.

  I stayed in bed for awhile, replaying the night in my head, over and over like my mini recorder tape. What a man!

  A fresh pot of coffee greeted me along with Fred. I let him out and he disappeared around the corner of the house at a trot, heading for an outbuilding. George is our local dog catcher, along with everything else he does. He rounds up strays and keeps them in roomy kennels in the outbuilding until he can find their old homes or new ones for them. Fred must have a new girlfriend out back to get him fired up like that.

  More coffee, a shower, and I was set to go. George and I were meeting at noon with or without Laura in tow. The tape would be in the mail. After checking on Fred and finding him nose to nose with a cute Irish setter, I snuck off without him. He didn’t mind at all. Last I checked, the two of them were wagging their tails like crazy. Fred’s ears were at an awkward angle, slicked back with romance.

  Love does crazy things! Don’t I know it!

  Close to my home, I left the road and drove through a field into the pines. When I was sure no one could see the truck, I parked and walked in to the deer blind Barney built years ago on our back forty.

  We have so much land in the U.P. we referred to it in forty-acre parcels instead of single-acre lots. I have two forties left after giving a forty each to Blaze and Star. Heather, my Milwaukee-dwelling other daughter, didn’t want anything to do with living in the woods, or I would have given her one, too. Maybe someday her son, Little Donny, will want one of my two.

  My hunting blind hadn’t been used since November when deer hunting season ended. I used it as a retreat when my family got to be too much for me. I’d lay back in the La-Z-Boy with my feet up, listening to the crackle from the propane heater while watching deer come along to eat apples and corn I’d throw out for them.

  It was a haven for me and for the deer. Shooting wild animals is a part of life here, a necessity for survival, since jobs are scarce and money is tight. But I let others take care of that. I couldn’t look an animal in the eyes and then end its life.

  Today, the going wasn’t easy. In early spring, the ravines are marshy. I slopped through water up to my shins in some places before climbing to higher ground. The door to the blind squeaked when I opened it. I surveyed the inside of my mini home-away-from-home. Other than a few nuts stuffed into the corner of my chair and a couple flies buzzing at the window, nothing had changed in the last five months. I started the heater, hoping to dry out my pant legs.

  George and Laura came walking in from the opposite end, right when I expected them. They’d missed the fun of tromping through the wetlands. I wished I’d thought of that.