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  “Sometimes you just have to be firm. You’d think this is the city of Chicago the way she acts. I’ll bet the mayor hasn’t been ‘busy’ all morning.”

  The woman soon returned and said grudgingly, “You can go in.” She didn’t feel it was necessary to lead them, though.

  Sure enough, Mayor Coonley had her desk chair swiveled toward the window and watched a young boy chase a small dog on the city hall lawn. Max and Chelsea entered and stood for a moment quietly until Max cleared her throat loudly.

  The mayor swiveled back and looked a little annoyed at being interrupted. “What’s this about?”

  “May we sit?” Max asked.

  “Sure.” The tone was If you have to. They sat.

  “I’m Maxine Berra. I was a Jacobsen. This is my great-niece, Chelsea. I’m sure you know the family gathered this weekend for a reunion. One of our purposes was to decide what to do with the old Jacobsen plant. I understand the city has been—concerned, shall we say?—about it sitting there empty”

  “I guess.”

  “We would like to propose donating it as a community center. We have some memorial funds for renovations, but we would turn the ownership over to the city.”

  Max waited. Junie rotated a pencil between two fingers, tapping the desk. “I’m not sure how the council would feel about that. It would be their decision, of course. There would be liability and upkeep to consider.”

  “Of course,” Max echoed. “What is your sense of how receptive the council might be?”

  Junie looked back out the window. “I don’t really know.”

  “Would you give me the contact information for the council members? Maybe we could approach them before we leave town.”

  “I suppose. You’re here for a reunion, you say?”

  “It’s over. It was this past weekend. I’m sure you heard that there were several threats and actions against the family. We would like to make amends for the bad feelings.”

  “Threats?” Junie squinted and tried to act surprised, but her manner wasn’t convincing.

  “Yes, threats. And my brother has been charged—falsely, I might add—with the murder of Dutch Schneider.” She watched Junie’s face closely. “They seem to think that the family was worried about what might come out in Dutch’s memoir, which couldn’t be further from the truth.”

  Junie seemed to blanch so Max went on. “I’ve seen the manuscript, and there is nothing our family would be concerned about.”

  Now Junie did turn pale. “How did you see it?”

  “Oh, Dutch and I have kept in touch for years. He asked me to read it.” Max waved her hand nonchalantly, hoping Chelsea would keep quiet. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I understand you and Dutch were quite good friends? I’m sorry for your loss.” She thought she heard Chelsea snicker but didn’t want to look at the girl.

  “Why—more like casual friends, I would say.” The mayor paused. “Where is the manuscript?”

  “I assume the police have it, which should clear my brother in the next day or so. There were several others more worried than we would be.” Max stood up. “We’ve taken enough of your time. What about the contact information for the council?”

  Junie stood also. “Um, Helen, my assistant can give you that. It’s also online on the city website.”

  Max thanked her and ushered Chelsea out the door. Helen readily gave them a list of the council members and their contact information, and turned back to her previous task without a word. Max raised her eyebrows at Chelsea, who giggled, and they headed out the door.

  Once outside, Chelsea said, “I don’t think you were being quite honest with her. The mayor, I mean.”

  “No, I wasn’t. I was trying to pull a little bluff on her. She’s obviously uncomfortable that I have seen that manuscript.”

  “You didn’t mention the election.”

  “Nope, but I’ve got her worried.”

  Chelsea shook her head as they reached the car and grinned. “This is cool.”

  After the nursing home, Carol and Lil headed for town and Ted Larsen’s law office. Another young receptionist looked at them questioningly as they walked in.

  “Can I help you?”

  “We just have a quick question for Mr. Larsen. Might he have a few minutes? We’re George Jacobsen’s daughters.”

  “Oh! Yes. He’s not with anyone right now—let me check.” She bounced up and went to a door behind her and tapped. “Mr. Larsen?” She opened the door a crack, nodded, and closed it. “He’s on the phone. Do you want to wait?”

  “Yes,” Lil said. “Maybe you can help us. Do you know if he still has the business files for Jacobsen Antenna?”

  The girl looked crestfallen. “I’m sorry. I don’t know. My mother is the regular assistant here and is sick today, so I’m just filling in. Like, answering the phone and stuff.”

  “That’s fine. We’ll wait and ask him.” Carol turned her walker toward one of the client chairs.

  “Can I get you some coffee or water or something?” The poor girl was so eager to be useful that Carol said yes, she would take a glass of water. Lil declined and the girl stepped in to a small side room where a counter and sink could be seen.

  The women leafed through old magazines for about ten minutes until a middle-aged man in a brown sport coat and Vikings tie stepped out of the inner office. Lil hoped his legal prowess surpassed his sense of style.

  “Please come in,” he motioned to them.

  They introduced themselves. Carol explained their errand.

  Ted Larsen took a sip of his coffee and leaned back in his chair. “I’m sure I do still have the records. We haven’t done any major purging of files since I took over. What is it you need to know?”

  Lil said, “There is anger in town over the sale and closing of the plant, even after all this time. None of us were involved in that process, and we have some questions.”

  Larsen pulled a notebook and pen over in front of him. “Shoot.”

  “We have heard that there were two offers—a lower one that guaranteed that the plant would be kept open and a higher one, which Dad accepted. In the normal course of events, there would be nothing surprising about that—it would be considered good business. But Dad felt very strongly about keeping the plant open and its importance to the Castleroll economy. Bea Borgstad, his business manager, told us this morning that he took the higher offer because he desperately needed the money. That doesn’t jive with what we know—or thought we knew.” She stopped and waited for his reply.

  He finished the note he was writing and looked up. “As you probably know, I was not in the practice during those negotiations and my father—well, let’s just say his memory is about gone. I don’t think he could tell us anything reliable. I haven’t ever had cause to look at those records, but I will and see what I can find out.

  “Another question has to do with who was involved. Bea told us that Bill Murphy, who had already retired came back for some of the meetings,” Lil said.

  Larsen jotted on his notebook again. “I’ll see if there are records of such meetings. Anything else?”

  “I don’t think so. Here’s a card with my cell number if you find anything out. And thank you for finding a lawyer for our brother,” Carol said as she stood.

  He stood also and shook their hands. “Glad to be of help.”

  When they got to the car, Lil pulled out her phone and called Max, who was just leaving City Hall.

  “We’re done. Do you want to meet for lunch or just go back to the farm?” Lil said.

  “Good timing. We just finished too. I’ll leave it up to Chelsea.” She turned to her great niece. “Lunch out or back to the farm?”

  Chelsea was almost giddy. “Lunch out! We need to compare notes.”

  “Lunch it is,” Max said into the phone.

  After some discussion, they decided to meet at Nancy’s Diner, where they had planned to lunch on Saturday until the events of that morning upset everyone too much.

&nb
sp; Chapter Fourteen

  On the way to the diner, Max instructed Chelsea to call Annie and update her on their plans. Chelsea reported after she hung up that Annie had just put the baby down for a nap and would not join them at this time.

  Carol and Lil had snagged a booth away from most of the lunch crowd. Chelsea and Max slid in and ordered drinks from the waitress, who had appeared immediately at Max’s elbow.

  Max opened a well-worn menu and said, “Let’s order, and then I want to hear first if you found anything out from Bea.”

  Lil winked at Chelsea and said, “She likes to boss us all around.”

  “I know,” said Chelsea, smiling at Max as she said it.

  “Whatever. What’s good here, Carol?”

  “The BLT panini and the crab cake sandwiches are my favorites.”

  Max slammed the menu shut. “I like the sound of the crab cakes.”

  They placed their orders and when the waitress left, Max leaned forward over the table. “Okay. Talk.”

  “Bea says Dad took the higher offer because he really needed the money,” Lil reported.

  Max straightened up. “No kidding? That’s crazy. I never heard anything like that. Did anyone else?”

  Carol and Lil shook their heads. “Furthermore,” Carol added, “Bea remembered that Bill Murphy came to the meetings, even though he had retired a couple of years before.”

  “That is odd.”

  Chelsea wanted to know who Bill Murphy was and Lil explained.

  “Is he related to Pete Murphy?” Chelsea asked.

  Max looked surprised. “He was Pete’s father. How do you know Pete?”

  Chelsea closed her mouth and reverted to her sullen look. She shrugged her shoulders and took a drink of her soda.

  Carol fixed a stare on Chelsea. “Chelsea? You haven’t been here that often. How do you know Pete?”

  “I don’t really know him. I mean, I’ve never met him—just heard of him,” she finally answered.

  “In what context?” Max asked. Chelsea gave her a blank stare. “What did you hear about him?”

  “Some kids were talking yesterday at the picnic.” She shrugged again and took another drink. “Maybe he deals drugs.” Her voice was very soft.

  “Chelsea!” Lil said. She put her hand across the table and took Chelsea’s. “You didn’t buy anything, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t! Honest! I didn’t get a chance. Besides, it’s not any worse than breaking in somewhere and stealing stuff.” She gave them a defiant little smirk.

  “Borrowing,” Max said. “And it is worse. If we ruin the rest of our lives, that doesn’t amount to much. Yours does. If one of us keels over, everyone would be sad for a couple of weeks and then move on. If anything happens to you, your parents and many others would never get over it. But thanks for telling us. That might be important.”

  Lil stared at Max. “Now who’s been spilling the beans?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Max paused while the waitress delivered their sandwiches and then said, “Did you find out anything at Larsen’s office?”

  Carol swallowed a bite of her panini and nodded. “They still have the records. Ted is going to see what he can find about the sale and call us. What did you find out?”

  Max told them about the lack of identification of the truck from the license plate. “But, they found tire tracks at the plant. They will be getting prints of Annie’s van, your car, Carol, and Trevor Jasper’s for elimination. Then we had a visit with Her Honor the Mayor.”

  Chelsea shook off her pout and nodded. “She really acted suspicious.”

  Carol and Lil smiled at the observation, but Max said, “She’s right. Junie is worried about that manuscript.”

  “Aunt Maxine might have fudged a little about what was in it.” Chelsea grinned.

  “A little,” Maxine said. “We got her nervous. Somehow I don’t see her doing Dutch in with an antenna though. Seems like with her, the murder would have been more heat of the moment. I can’t see her planning ahead to use the antenna.”

  “Maybe that was a coincidence. It could have just been laying in the alley,” Lil suggested.

  Max wadded up her napkin and pushed her plate aside. “Maybe. Well anyway, we made some progress. Let’s go back to the farm and organize our notes—see what we can come up with.”

  Carol’s phone rang. She looked at the screen. “Bob,” she said to the others as she answered. “Hi. We’re just about to head out there. What’s up?” She listened a few moments, concern growing on her face. “When was this? Okay, we’ll be right there.” She hung up. “He can’t find Donnie. Said he sent him back to the house for some water and he disappeared. He’s taken off.”

  Max stood up and pulled her billfold out of her fanny pack. “That little jerk. When is he ever going to learn?” She laid a couple of bills on the table and picked up her check. “Let’s go.”

  The others followed and they paid for their meals at the cashier’s station before hurrying to their cars. To Max’s surprise, Chelsea thanked her for the lunch on the way.

  As they pulled in the farm yard, Bob was just coming around the corner of the house.

  “Did you find him?” Lil called as soon as she got out of the car. Bob shook his head.

  They gathered on the patio. “His truck’s still here.” Carol pointed across the lane. “That’s what I can’t figure out.”

  Bob held up a set of keys. “I’ve kept these. He hasn’t even asked about them.”

  “That ankle monitor won’t let him get far. Has the sheriff called?” asked Max.

  “No, he hasn’t—unless he called the land line. I didn’t check the voice mail in there. I’m guessing Donnie’s here somewhere trying to get that monitor off,” Bob said.

  “I doubt if the sheriff would call if Donnie’s alarm went off—he’d just head out here,” Carol said. “How long has Donnie been gone?”

  Bob looked at his watch. “Maybe a half hour or a little more?”

  “So if the alarm went off, the sheriff would have been here by now. Donnie must still be here somewhere.”

  “Tell us where you looked and we’ll all help,” Max said. “If Janet gets here before we find him, it could be worse consequences than from the sheriff.”

  “Just the house. I thought he might have gone to the basement and fallen on the steps or went upstairs to take a nap. He’s nowhere in there.”

  Max dumped her fanny pack and notebook in one of the patio chairs. “Let’s get going. Chelsea, you with me?”

  “Sure.”

  Bob put his hands on his hips. “Okay, why don’t you two check the grove and the machine shed? Lil and I’ll search the barn and tool shed and Carol, you check the garage.”

  They spread out to their assigned areas. Max and Chelsea walked toward the grove, a small stand of ash and willow interspersed with wild shrubs. They spread out and walked into the thicket, calling Donnie’s name. They could hear the others yelling as well. Mosquitos dive bombed them in the shadows and attacked Max’s eyes

  “Why would he be hiding?” Chelsea asked, as they met on the other side of the little grove.

  “I don’t know. He doesn’t want to face his wife, maybe, or he thinks he can get the monitor off and escape. I don’t know.” Max was exasperated by the whole business. Back out in the sunlight, flies took up where the mosquitos had left off.

  “Let’s go check out the machine shed.” Max led the way to the long steel building. A side door stood open and they edged inside, careful not to fall over anything in the dim light. Without windows, only the open door allowed the daylight in. The place smelled of dust and oil. A hulking combine towered over them and other machinery sat in a long row disappearing into the depths of the building.

  “Donnie?” Max called. “Are you in here?”

  No answer.

  “You go around that side and I’ll go this way,” she said to Chelsea. “Be careful not to trip on anything.”

  “There’s probably a light switch somew
here.” Chelsea peered up into the rafters where large fluorescent fixtures could faintly be seen.

  “By one of the doors, I suppose, but I don’t see one.” Max called out again. “Donnie!” She started to move along the wall. Chelsea went the other direction, calling Donnie’s name as well.

  Max hit her shin on an implement of some sort, and stopped to rub the sore spot. She heard some shuffling from the far end of the building in the opposite direction from Chelsea. She straightened up and listened carefully.

  More shuffling, and then a shout. “Max! Get away! Don’t come back here!” It was Donnie.

  “Donnie? What’s the matter? What are you doing?” She ignored his warnings and continued along the wall toward the sound of arguing voices kept low.

  To be as quiet as possible, she moved slowly and paused frequently to listen. Suddenly more noise erupted from the back of the building. A young girl’s scream—Chelsea! Shouts from Donnie of “No!”

  Maxine reached the back and turned the corner. Against the wall, about halfway down the side, Pete Murphy held Donnie around the neck by one arm, the other pointing a gun at Donnie’s head. Chelsea stood a few feet on the other side of them, her hands up palms out, in front of her. Pete spotted Max and looked at her in anger. His eyes were wild.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Max was stunned at first but quickly recovered. “What do you think you’re doing, Pete?”

  “I want my share. You Jacobsens always run everything. I’m sick of Donnie coming back here and playing Mr. Cool, King of Everything. I want my share!”

  The image of Donnie as ‘Mr. Cool’ almost made Max laugh. Her brother had always been anything but. However, she kept her head.

  “What do you mean? Why are you threatening him? Your share of what?”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “The money of course. I’m glad you’re here. Go tell your sisters that if you want to keep your baby brother alive, I want one hundred thousand dollars in one hour. And that sweet little girl—she stays here too. And no cops.”

  Max shook her head, trying to play for time, to get her thoughts together. “I don’t understand.”