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MYRTLE WALKED AWAY from Glinda’s house in the shadows of the thick hanging clouds above her. They cloaked the sun and made the earth as gloomy as twilight. She was glad she’d worn her heaviest sweater and her long wool skirt because the morning was chilly. When was it ever going to warm up, she fretted. She dragged her wagon behind her because it was her day for dropping by the nursing home and seeing if any of them needed anything from the stores. It was little enough to do for the sick ones, but they acted as if she’d given them the greatest gift in the world. Running small errands for them.
She was on the sidewalk in front of Claudia’s book store when she spied the old man in the black fedora shambling down on the other side of the street. She’d seen him before and had once even spoken to him a year or so ago. He’d said he was being treated for cancer. Remembering that she hobbled across the street and stood facing him.
Merely a town acquaintance, he’d never told her his name and she’d never asked. “Howdy, friend,” she said, bringing her wagon to a stop and meeting his eyes. They were about the same age, she’d guess, give or take a decade, so in that they had something in common. Old people needed to stick together, help each other if they could. It was the Christian thing to do. She was struck by how much more weight he’d lost and how sad his eyes were. “How are you doing these days?”
At first she didn’t think he was going to respond. He hung his head and tried to go around her, then stopped, and answered, “About as good as can be expected. The cancer has returned.”
“So sorry about that.” Trying to sound as sympathetic as she could. Since she didn’t know what else to say, she said, “Out getting your exercise, huh?”
His smile was cynical. “I guess you could call it that.”
She gently laid a hand on his sleeve. “You seem so down. What’s wrong? Is there anything I can do? Listen, maybe?”
Then it was as if something broke in him and he began telling her about how ill he’d been and his wife was now unwell also and how he was exhausted caring for her; how afraid he was of losing her. His face was full of fear. In a guilty whisper he confided how much money their combined care was costing and how he didn’t know how he was going to pay for all their needed medicine, doctor co-payments and other expenses since they were on fixed incomes. He wasn’t complaining as much as venting. The way he spoke about his wife it was easy to see he loved her dearly. Myrtle listened and felt so much pity for him. Perhaps she should tell him about the hidden treasure buried on her niece’s land? Nah, if she told one person by evening the town would all know. It was best to keep it to herself for now. When she found it she could help him with money for his problems. Help pay for his and his wife’s medical bills like she’d done for old Lottie before she died. Yeah, that was what she’d do.
For the moment she did what she could do. “Is there anything I can get you or your wife? I always go to the IGA store today for the folks at the nursing home on Fifth Street and I could pick up something, groceries or whatnot, if you need anything, for you and your wife? If you give me a list and your address I can bring the stuff by later today?”
The elderly man frowned, his brows dipping beneath the brim of his hat. “I appreciate the offer but I’m,” and here he paused as if unsure how to proceed, “a little short on funds at the moment.”
Myrtle didn’t know why she fibbed, but seeing the instant shame on the man’s face, she did. “You don’t need no money, friend. My church, St. Paul’s on the other end of Main Street, gives me a stipend every week to buy things for the folks at the nursing home and other needy people. You qualify because both you and your wife are so sick. My pastors would want me to help you. Just give me a list of what you and your wife need, prescriptions at the Walmart even, your address, and I’ll bring everything by later today.”
The man’s eyes were now rimmed in unshed tears, though he was shaking his head in a negative fashion. “That is so kind of you, but no thank you. We’ll manage. I can’t...I–” And without another word, the man spun on his worn shoes and hurried away, head down and a wrinkled hand holding his fedora tightly on his head. She thought of chasing after him, but knowing what loss of pride did to a person, she just stood there and watched him go down the street and disappear into an alleyway.
With a sigh, she continued on her journey to the nursing home. At least there were people there who needed what she had to give. She went on her rounds, stopping in the rooms and visiting with the lonely sick and old ones. After running some errands for a few of them, when she was done, she took her empty wagon, and singing at the top of her voice through the woods, she traipsed home, content she’d helped who she could help that day. The thought of supper, toasted cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, drew her on. The day had been long and she was ready to prop up her feet and, after supper, to watch television. She’d recorded some PBS murder mysteries days before and couldn’t wait to see them.
She was rewarded for her good day’s work when she found a large package on her front porch. “Hot dog,” she cried, lifting it and dragging it into her home, “my metal detector is here!” It was all there, shiny, complicated and very expensive–it was the best. A Vision Pro XJ9 with the detector, with a LCD screen and a nifty carrying case. Unpacking it, she took out the instructions and sat at her kitchen table with the whole apparatus and read how to use it.
Glancing out the window, she muttered, “Too bad it’s getting dark outside. Ghosts will soon be roaming the woods. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning before I can try it out. Oh, well, it’ll give me time to learn more about it.” Which she did. By the time she went to bed she figured she was an expert on the Vision Pro XJ9. She was so eager for the morning to come so she could hunt for the treasure that sleep was elusive and it took her a long time to achieve it.
*****
AT DAWN, MYRTLE OPENED her eyes and seeing the light outside, climbed out of bed and prepared for her day of looking for a hidden fortune. She giggled, she was so excited over the prospect of treasure hunting. What fun she would have. Putting on warm clothes because the early morning was still cold, she packed snacks and a bottle of water. The metal detector wasn’t too heavy for her to haul around, but it wasn’t lightweight, either. Good thing she was in good health for her age, probably because she walked everywhere. Walking was good exercise. It kept her young.
When she was ready, had gathered the metal detector paraphernalia together and the case was hanging from her shoulder, she made her way to Glinda’s house through the forest shortcuts. By the end of her journey the metal detector had gained a lot of weight, more like an anchor. Whew, this treasure hunting wasn’t going to be so easy, she thought. She knocked on her niece’s front door.
“What are you doing here so early?” Standing there in the doorway in her robe, Glinda rubbed her eyes and yawned. Her hair was loose and flowing, silver white in the morning’s light. Her green eyes sleepy. She was barefooted. That magic cat of hers snarled at Myrtle from behind his mistress, his fluffy tail jerking every which way.
Myrtle pushed the metal detector case at her niece. “Look, I got it! The metal detector. They delivered it to my house yesterday. I’m ready to begin searching for that ghost sailor’s hidden gold. You want to come with me?”
“Aagh, not until I have my tea and toast and wake up all the way. Come on in, old woman. I have something to tell you. I had another dream of Masterson.”
“Woo-hoo! This time did he tell you where he might have buried his treasure?” Myrtle slipped past Glinda and into the house. She dropped her equipment on the sofa and followed the younger woman into the kitchen.
“I’m afraid he didn’t, not this time, either,” Glinda confessed. “The dream just uncovered more of his story. There was a ship wreck. All on board perishing except Masterson who somehow snagged two bags of what I think were jewels and coins. How he was washed ashore with them, clinging to a piece of floating flotsam; survived for years alone, forgotten, on an island until he nearly went mad. But, eventually, miraculously, he was rescued, and then after his voyage back across the ocean to civilization he hid and transported his small horde of wealth out of the city. There the dream ended. I don’t know anything else after that. So far anyway.”
“But it proves he recovered some of the treasure and brought it back with him? Right?”
“Right, but not necessarily that there was any left when he died, though.” Glinda was making her tea, popping slices of bread into the toaster. The demon cat was under the table and every so often dashed out and swatted and bit at Myrtle’s feet. Myrtle wanted to stomp the creature’s tail, but didn’t because Glinda loved him so much. Besides, she wouldn’t really hurt an animal anyway no matter how much it pestered her.
“Make me some of that toast, would you please? Three pieces with some of your homemade strawberry preserves on them. That batch you made last summer was so yummy.”
“Ah, you like anything sweet. But I’ll bring out the preserves. Go ahead and help yourself to some coffee, Auntie, unless you want tea?”
Myrtle grimaced. “Yeck, you and your tea. You’re so funny. But I think I’ll just have a glass of milk, if it’s okay with you.” She didn’t wait for an answer, she rarely did, and fetched the carton from the refrigerator, poured a portion into a glass, and sat down with it. The tea thing was a private joke between the two of them.
“What else did you learn from your dream?” Myrtle wanted to know when Glinda set down the strawberry toast before her.
“That’s about it. More or less.”
“Oh.” Myrtle’s frown showed disappointment. “Okay then. So, do you want to come with me when I go searching for the buried treasure?”
Glinda laughed. She sat down with her cup of tea and her plate of buttered toast and sent an apologetic look towards Myrtle. “Sorry, I can’t. I have readings this morning and through the afternoon. A psychic has to make a living you know. But you go and have fun.”
“What you really mean is you don’t believe there is any treasure buried out there, do you?”
Glinda cocked her head, pushing her hair away from around her face so she could drink her tea. “I don’t know if there is or there isn’t. I just have work to do.”
“Well, then, I’ll do it by myself. I think I’ll start with your front and back yard and then work my way to the cemetery. That could take some time, I imagine.”
“No doubt. But, Auntie, don’t overdo it. If you become tired, take a break.”
“Ah,” Myrtle protested, “I know my limits. I’ll take my time. Don’t worry.”
The two women ate their toast, chatted, and after they were done Myrtle took her leave. “I’ll come back by later if I find anything.”
“Yes, please do that.” Glinda’s smile was warm. “I’d really like to know.”
Amadeus was sitting in the doorway glaring at Myrtle. What was it with that cat? He was behaving as if he were protecting his mistress from something or someone. Her. Odd. Glinda had nothing to fear from Myrtle. On the contrary, Myrtle would do anything to keep her niece safe, protect her with her own life if need be. She loved her more than anyone else in the world, even more than she loved Abby and Frank.
Myrtle collected her treasure hunting gear and headed outside. But she couldn’t shake the suspicion her niece was keeping something from her. Something important. When she returned later she’d make Glinda tell her what it was or she wouldn’t leave until she did.
*****
IT DIDN’T TAKE LONG before Myrtle had the knack of using the detector’s wand, had almost become an expert, and learned how she should hover the thing slowly and vigilantly over the ground before her feet as she walked. Deciding to begin her search in the cemetery, she’d started at the entrance between the tombstones and was careful to remember what parts she’d already gone over. It was fun to know she might find a cache of priceless gold coins or jewelry at any moment beneath the soil. It was something she’d never done before, hunt for treasure, and she loved doing new things. This was another adventure. At first it was a bit spooky weaving between the graves and stones, stepping on the flattened mounds covered in weeds, but after a while she got used to it. Being daylight with the sun sparkling over her, she wasn’t too concerned the dead would rise up and scold her for disturbing their eternal rest. If they were even there or even cared.
In her long life Myrtle had come to the uneasy conclusion that burying people in coffins beneath the earth was senseless, barbaric even, and a waste of precious land. Why? Bodies, after death, were nothing. Empty hulks. The souls were up in heaven, blithe and happy. They didn’t care what happened to their mortal remains. And Myrtle truly believed there would come a time in human history, perhaps thousands of years from now, where the land would be needed for the living and then goodbye tombstones, mausoleums and angelic stone sculptures. The graveyards would be dug up, cleared out, and the land reclaimed so people could live on it again. Just one of her predictions.
She noticed her shadow at one point as it followed her around, and grinning, she began humming Perry Como’s old song, Me And My Shadow.
Me and my shadow, strolling down the avenue, me and my shadow, not a soul to tell our troubles to....
The hours went by swiftly. Soon she was huffing and puffing and the metal detector had become so much heavier she could barely lift it. She’d gotten tired before she’d finished a quarter of the cemetery and squatted down on a cube shaped tombstone to rest. It was going to take a lot longer than she had thought it would. The graveyard was bigger than she’d realized. No, it was just her. She was old. She got weary quicker. Her ancient bones and muscles no longer had the endurance they’d once had. Boo hoo, but she wouldn’t feel sorry for herself. So her body was used up and she was old? So what. She’d just rest more often. Glaring around at the tombstones, she mused that it beat the alternative.
Thinking of her own age and frailties, the memory of the elderly man in the black fedora returned out of nowhere to haunt her. On the street the day before he’d looked so desperate, so ill. Body sick. Heart sick. Soul sick. She had an eye for that sort of thing. Sitting there on that tombstone amid the graves of people long gone, she made a promise to herself to find out who the old man was and go visit him and his ill wife; help them if she could no matter how he protested. That was what a good Christian was supposed to do. Help people. She could ask Frank, Sheriff Mearl or one of the pastors at her church about Fedora. Someone would know who he was and where he lived. Then she’d find and help him.
Fifteen minutes later she got up, and after noting where she’d left off in the cemetery with a line of small rocks, gathered her metal detector, and headed back to Glinda’s house. She had time. Tomorrow she’d continue the hunt. The sailor’s treasure had been lost for decades so another day, a week or a month more wouldn’t hurt anything.
When she arrived at Glinda’s house she knocked and knocked and no Glinda. So with that weird magical cat gawking at her through the window’s glass, she retrieved the hidden key and let herself into the house. Though she looked in every room she found no Glinda. Now that was strange. The psychic had said she had customers all day, it was afternoon, but she wasn’t there.
Myrtle locked the door behind her and trudged home, leaving the metal detector on Glinda’s rear porch beneath a worn blanket she’d snatched from Glinda’s storage closet. She’d return later or the following morning to see what was up. She’d decided she was too pooped to continue dragging the metal detector around Glinda’s property any more that day. She needed a nap.
*****
GLINDA HAD FINISHED her second-to-last customer and when her final client of the day called and canceled she could no longer remain idle in the house. Through all her readings during the morning and afternoon the tarot cards kept sending her veiled warnings along with messages for the person being read.
As she was setting the cards aside after her last customer left, the vision came to her. It was brief, violent and left her shaking with tears in her eyes. She had to tell Frank what she’d seen.
She could have telephoned him but after the vision she had to see him in person. The message had been clear. Something or someone wanted her to confer with Frank immediately. She thought of leaving a note for Myrtle, who was out hunting for treasure somewhere, but didn’t because then the old woman would track her down or end up at Frank’s place. Abby and Frank still wanted to leave Myrtle out of the loop when it came to the missing college girls. No one wanted her to run off to Chicago and butt into that investigation and, heaven knew, she would if she could. If Frank, Abby or Laura were involved Myrtle would think she should be as well.
Glinda rode her bicycle into town. Most days Frank would be consulting for the sheriff’s department and could be found at their office so she pedaled down Main Street and put her kickstand down in front of the police department.
She caught Frank literally leaving the building.
“Glinda? What are you doing here?” He was closing the station door behind him.
“Looking for you.”
He sent her a strange look. “For me?”
“Yes, you. I’ve learned more about those missing girls. I need to talk to you.”
Instead of answering her, he took her by the arm and steered her to his truck. “Get in and we’ll talk.”
Once inside Frank turned to her. “Good timing. I was on my way to ask you something anyway so you saved me the trouble. What did you want to tell me?”
In a solemn mood she told him and felt awful when his demeanor darkened. She hated telling him one of the girls was dead. He didn’t ask which one, though she didn’t know.
“So you believe the girls are being held not in the abandoned factory but in a building near the dog kennel’s grounds that is close to an abandoned factory?” Frank reiterated. “And there are no dogs at the kennel. It’s deserted?”
“I think so. I saw only empty pens and rusted fences as if it’d been long deserted. I also saw buildings surrounding it, dilapidated, and in the distance there was a neon sign, a restaurant perhaps...Stoney’s?”
Frank appeared startled. “I know that restaurant. I know where it is!”
“That’s good then, isn’t it? You know where to look now.” Outside the truck some of the townsfolks were bustling by her, some waved and some smiled at her or Frank.
Frank seemed elated. “We know where to look. Thank you Glinda.”
“I’m glad I could help in any way. I felt for those poor missing girls, too. And now that one of them is....” She couldn’t say the word but sighed. “I want them found.
“And what had you wanted to see me about?”
“It plays right into what you just revealed. I’ve been hired temporarily as a consultant on the kidnapping case by the Chicago Police Department. I’ll be working with my old partner Sam Cato, whose usual partner is now on medical leave facing heart surgery. Sam asked for me specifically. I’m driving back up there tonight, lodging at my son’s apartment, and I was asked if you would agree to accompany me and join the case as well? Unofficially, if that would be easier for you. We could really use you, especially since you seem to be receiving messages about these girls already. If what you say is correct then the other two girls don’t have much time. Oh, and my son said you could also stay at his place. He has the room.”
Glinda hesitated, unsure what to do, until another ephemeral image of two weeping girls crowded into her mind and she slowly nodded her head. “I’ll come with you. I want to do anything I can to help. Those girls need to be rescued and as quickly as it can be done or they will die. If my psychic abilities can help you and the Chicago Police Department in any way find these students then they are yours to use.”
“All right.” Frank appeared grateful she’d accepted without much persuasion. “Can you be ready to go in an hour or so? I’ll pick you up. Sam Cato and the team want to meet with us tonight at the Chicago police station. They have an all-out hunt for the girls planned for sunrise tomorrow. And now, thanks to you, we’ll have a good idea where to look.”
“You’ll pick me up in an hour, huh?”
“I know. It’s not much time. But I can load your bicycle into the bed of the truck and run you home so you can pack. I’ll be back for you once I drive home and do the same.”
“Thank you, but you don’t have to drop me off and come back. I can pack while you wait. I’m an old hand at it. Packing and leaving on a dime. How long should I pack for?” Glinda was fighting to calm her thoughts because they were racing in so many directions. The cards had slyly insinuated the horror which would exist at the end of the investigation. There was more she could have told Frank but her mouth couldn’t form the words. Her mind couldn’t hold the images they were so horrific. She didn’t want to go to Chicago, she didn’t want to find what they would find, but she couldn’t say no to Frank or the missing girls. Her gift came with its own responsibilities. Helping others, if she could, was only one of them.
“I don’t know. Until we locate the missing students. But, I won’t force you to stay in Chicago if you don’t want to. Sam and the team merely want to meet you; talk to you. I’ll bring you back home, or have someone else bring you home, whenever you ask me to.”
“Sam and the team want to meet me? To decide if I’m a quack or the real thing, huh?”
“I told them you were the real thing.”
“Thanks,” she said softly.
Frank retrieved the bicycle and drove her home.
Myrtle welcomed them at the door. “Niece, I wondered where you’d gone. I didn’t have any luck finding the treasure today, but it sure wore me out. I came back but you weren’t here and you said you’d be. So I went home, took a short nap and returned because I was worried. I’ve been waiting for you. Where were you? Oh, hi Frank. What are you doing here?”
Oh oh. Glinda contemplated lying but she detested doing that under all but the direst circumstances. This wasn’t one of them. But Frank stepped in and took care of it for her.
“Hi Myrtle. Let’s sit down and while Glinda packs I’ll fill you in.”
“Glinda packing? Where is she going?” Myrtle demanded to know, overly protective as she always was since discovering Glinda and she were related.
While Glinda went to her bedroom and packed she could hear Frank in the other room explaining what was going on to her aunt. By the tone of his voice she could hear he was being diplomatic yet firm. When she came out of the room, dressed in blue jeans, shirt, boots and a rain jacket, with a suitcase full of clothes and necessities Myrtle was prattling on about her treasure hunting and showing Frank the metal detector. So everything was okay.
Myrtle looked at her. “I know about the missing students at Laura’s school and that you are going with Frank to try and find them. It’s all right. I’ll stay here, as Frank has asked, and take care of your animals and your house. A very important task. That way I can keep searching for the treasure. Silly Frank. He thought I’d want to go with you and help in Chicago. Not me. Not now. I don’t like the big cities, too noisy and crowded. I trust all of you to save those girls. Me, I have to find the treasure. So don’t worry about me, Niece. I’m fine staying here.”
Now that was an unforeseen but welcome development. “That’s a perfect solution, Myrtle. I was reluctant to leave my cats and house but with you here to care for them, I feel so much better about going. Thank you.”
*****
IN THE TRUCK AS THEY left the house, Glinda sent a glance at Frank. “I don’t know what you told her but it worked. Good job, Frank.”
“It wasn’t difficult. I got her yakking about the hidden treasure and how she couldn’t stop looking for it now that she had the metal detector. She’s on her own adventure. And we needed her to take care of your animals and this house. She was needed. It was fairly easy.”
Glinda knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth. “She wanted to come with us to Chicago, didn’t she?”
“Of course she did,” Frank admitted, grinning. “At first. But I told her it was strictly police business. Chicago wasn’t a quaint little town like Spookie and the police department wouldn’t allow amateurs on official investigations, wouldn’t let her help no matter how good she was at solving mysteries, so she couldn’t go. We’d handle the situation and when it was over we’d have quite a story to tell her. She wasn’t happy about it, but she accepted it. Continuing to look for Masterson’s treasure was a good consolation prize. She’s really into the hunt.”
“I know she is.” Glinda observed the scenery going past the truck’s window and tried to blank her mind from the images that kept materializing in her head. Crying, terrified young women locked in a dark prison somewhere. Fresh graves. It was easier that way. Soon enough she’d have to face what was coming. Whatever it was. All she knew was it wasn’t good. Her visions never lied.
Well, while she and Frank were alone and before they got to Frank’s house and Abby was there to send them off to Chicago, she thought: no time like the present. She had to tell him. “We’re going to have to be really careful.”
“Why?” There was an oddness in his voice.
“Something really bad is waiting for us...for you. I just want you to be ready.”
“Is that the danger you warned me of before?”
“I’m...not sure.”
“Any specific advice, Psychic?”
“No,” she didn’t tell him the entire truth, “it’s only a premonition right now, no specifics. Just promise me you’ll be careful when we get to Chicago?”
She thought he was going to laugh at her, but he didn’t. “Okay. I promise.” They pulled into his driveway and their conversation ended.