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While painting heads in the workroom, my thoughts went to Gina. I missed her, not that I saw a lot of her, but she’d become a friend. We were near the same age. I had hoped that I’d found someone nearby to chat with over a soda, sitting outside on lawn chairs or to call in the evening when Aaron worked, to come over and watch a late night movie with me. I sighed.
I wondered what information the detectives would find that could link the killer to TR? Once again the symbols entered my mind, and I wished that I’d taken the time to investigate further. I had heard the back door open, and knew it must be Max or Aaron.
“I’m in here.” I swiveled the chair to see the visitor, and it was Max. “I wondered about you.”
“I worked on heads into the night.” Max yawned, and he had an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “Thought you’d stand outside and let me smoke, then we can talk.”
“I need a break.” I got up and followed him out. We propped the door open in case someone should enter from the front. “You do such a great job.” He smelled of fresh soap and his longish brown hair was freshly shampooed. Those long eyelashes of his always made the girls swoon. “I’m glad that the expo is done. I’m worn out.”
“There has been an awful lot of traffic on this corner lately.” He lit his cigarette and took a drag, giving me time to think. “Something’s up.”
“What are you saying?” I looked up to him. “You don’t think someone’s going to try and break in, do you?”
“I’m just saying that it’s more than normal. What that means, I don’t know.” He took a longer drag, then flicked the cigarette to the ground and snuffed it out. “I think we should have the lock people back to have a look. Make sure the place is secure.”
“That’s a good idea. It hasn’t been done for two years.” I ran my fingers through my hair, and pulled on a hair shaft that sprung back to normal once released. “I’ll give Minnesota Nice Security a buzz. I’m glad you mentioned it.”
“What do the cops have to say about the investigation?” Max asked.
“You’re not going to like this.” I watched his eyes narrow as I told him the long story which included the basket and figurine dolls.
“Let’s get this straight—now it’s Edith Roosevelt?” Max said.
“Very good, zippy!”
“If I had any sense-, any sense at all-, I’d walk away. Quit!”
“But you won’t, because you like your job,” Max said.
“Right.” I smiled up to him. “You’re the best, Max. I couldn’t do it without you, the business... you know?”
“Now that I’m up to speed, then it’s a must.”
“I’m going to give the security company a call right now.” I took out my phone, found the contact number and called. I arranged from them to come out as soon as possible. “Done. They’ll be here in the morning.”
“Good. I wanted to touch bases with you about that.” Max pulled on his beard for a moment. “I’m going to be gone for a few days. I’ve got to see to my mom, she’s at her cabin up near Brainerd. I plan to leave once I get packed. Anything else you want me to do?”
“Nope. Take care and give her a big hug from me.” We gave each other a hug, and Max went to the stairs leading up to his apartment. I went inside and continued painting the heads. My stomach began grumbling, and I checked the clock. It was already after two. I gave Aaron a call to find out his schedule, only to learn that he was on a pursuit and would have to get back to me.
I didn’t like the sound of that. Car chases led to deadly accidents. My mind went back to something Max said, and I decided to give him a follow-up call.”
“Max? I have a couple questions.”“Shoot.”“When you said more than the normal amount of people here, what time of day was that and when?” “It may have been after the memorial.” I could almost hear him stroke his beard as he thought. “Yep, it was. Also, there was one guy dressed older like and in a suit and bowtie plus.... let’s see...what was it? Hmm...sure, it was someone with a walrus mustache, and I remember he reminded me of Teddy Roosevelt. Does that help?”
“A lot. What about women?” I asked.“A real short woman with a long braid.”“No one dressed like a Ranger or Native American woman?” I asked.“Not that I could tell. No Ranger that I saw, at least no one wearing the uniform.”“Okay, thanks.” I disconnected and slipped my phone inside my pocket.I no longer had the urge to keep painting, and hunger gnawed, so I closed up and headed to the corner café. The former owner had been convicted of two murders, hacking into my Internet connection, and breaking and entering. He and his wife were found guilty of all crimes and sentenced to life in prison. New owners had added their own spin on the café, augmenting the monthly schedule, with open mic nights. They also displayed art from local artisans. It’s family oriented with a small room where the younger among us can play and move around. It’s my favorite place for lunch. I ordered a turkey cranberry sandwich with a raspberry soda to go, and hurried back to the store.
While eating, I flipped through my notes where I’d written down the real names of the impersonators. I took a post-it, and copied them down, sticking it next to the keyboard, then went ahead and started a new search for Annie Oakley. It took quite a while because I wanted to be positive that I had the right person. Sarah Page. I found her website and read it completely. Same height, weight, and the blond roots gave her away. The rest spoke about her fondness for history. She was raised on a ranch and knew how to rope and ride, and her shot was almost as good as the lady she impersonated. The rest of the site had contact information and her schedule of events which did include the expo. There was something unusual about her features; I finally realized that she had a mole next to her right eye.
After finishing reading her bio, I renewed the search for Ed Parsons. His was a fascinating life story. He’d worked many jobs, including that of an engineer for the Santa Fe railroad. He’d also authored several nature books, but hadn’t been successful. While growing up, he had a fondness for traveling. He’d lived in many places and now called Minneapolis/St. Paul home. He loved all the parks, rivers and lakes. I wondered what he did for a living?
Flustered, I quit researching, still wondering how semi-retired impersonators could make their living. They had to be involved in something else.
I went for a cloth and began dusting just as a customer entered the store. “Good afternoon.”
“I have heard so much about your store. I’d like to take a look at the White House for the Eisenhower’s,” the woman said. She wore her blond hair was long, her skin looked stark white next to her black frame glasses. Wobbling as she walked, I noted that her feet were covered with spiked heels.
“Right over here.” I circled back around and stopped. “Mamie and her pink fetish. Everything pink!”“And, her funny looking bangs.” She chuckled. “I liked her.”“She was a very gracious hostess. Did you know she suffered from Meniere’s disease?”“That’s why everyone thought she was a bit tipsy at times, eh?”“Yes, it affected her equilibrium. And that’s why she valued her privacy. I held out the Mamie doll wearing her inaugural gown. “Wasn’t she beautiful?” I said, continuing, “She was so elegant in the pink peau de soie gown. There were two thousand rhinestones embroidered into it. I only glued on a few. I didn’t do it justice.”
“And pink heels. Ver y feminine,”she said.“Just like her,” I said.“I’ll take it.”“Oh my.” I smiled at her. “Do you want all the furnishings?”
“Of course.”
I went ahead and rang it all up and began the wrapping and boxing which took me quite a while, as I usually can count on Max’s help. After carrying the purchase out to her van, I collapsed on my chair and smiled.
“I’ll see you all in the morning,” I called to the dolls. I locked up for the day, and headed home.
The traffic was light, and I was soon home. My wish was for a nice meal with my husband, but I put that thought out of my mind. The air was fresh and the heat of the day subsided, so I was anxious for a nice jog up and down the walking path that ran near the river. Before long I was out the door and starting to run, my iPod earplugs in, water bottle attached to my belly-bag, and my house keys and phone zipped inside.
After reaching the main drag, Main Street, I began running toward the nearest footpath began. As I jogged along, my mind went in circles. I thought of Grandma and her circle of friends. Since we had the Dolley Madison connection, she’d taken it upon herself over the years to contact people who had worked in the White House at various times, such as secretaries, wait-staff, or cooks. A few people came to mind. There was a time when she’d been invited to a guest tea at the White House and become acquainted with the granddaughter of one of the many secretaries to First Lady Pat Nixon. As I wound my way up the footpath toward the Hennepin Avenue Bridge, I tried to think of her name but it eluded me. I’d have to ask Grandma if her friend still visited her summer home near Cross Lake. Grandma would know how to contact her.
I kept jogging, but took after a while I took a short break and drank some water. I sat for a minute and looked across to the other side of the park, where possibly the string of Segway riders had stopped traffic as they maneuvered their way through the intersection. I could see my store from there, I was happy to discover. After another drink, I got up and began my journey across the historical Stone Arch Bridge, constructed by railroad baron, James J. Hill, and is now on the National Register of Historical Sites. I jogged onto the bridge, used only for walkers or bikers, and stopped midway to enjoy the sound of rushing water and the beauty of St. Anthony Falls, which was used to power the flourmills of the early century. Minneapolis was the home to Pillsbury Flour and General Mills. It was once known as the Mill City. During President McKinley’s visit and tour of the Pillsbury Flour Mill, an attempt was made on his life, poor man.
I ran over the bridge and headed toward home. I was running out of energy, so it took me longer on the run home. As I neared Pracna where Gina had worked, I thought to take a quick tour around the parking lot before going home. Sure enough, there were two cars that I recognized, Annie Oakley’s— Sarah Page and John Muir’s—Ed Parsons. I needed to look closer into that and figure out the connection.
After reaching home, I headed down the hall to shower. The cool water felt good across my skin, so I stood a little longer than usual. Upon stepping out, I quickly dried and got ready for bed.
There wasn’t much to watch on TV, and I would’ve had trouble concentrating so I went to bed. I fell asleep instantly.
I never heard Aaron return during the night, but I knew he’d been home and slept because his pillow was dented in and the blankets on his side of the bed were ruffled.
Without Aaron, I felt lonely and not much like eating breakfast. I brewed a pot of coffee and toasted a slice of bread, before going to sit out on the shaded patio deck. After a sip of coffee, I gave Grandma a buzz.
“Hello, Dear, what are you up to?” she asked when she answered the phone.
“Hi Grandma. Not much. Aaron pulled an extra shift so I’m sitting on the deck, alone.”
“No church? Shame on you. We taught you better than this, dear girl....” Grandma said. “We’re just setting the table. A neighbor couple is coming for brunch. Do you want to come?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” I smiled. “Be there in a minute. Can I bring anything?”
“Just you.” I mouthed it while she said it, because that’s what she always says.
“See you.” We disconnected and I hopped up from my chair to go in and change. I slipped into a flowery, summer dress which had a matching short sweater in case the inside temperature was chilly.
I gave Aaron a ring. “Honey? I’m going to Grandma’s. She’s having dinner for some friends and I invited myself. When are you done with your shift?”
“At three, and then we’ll have the rest of the day. No one else.”
“Have the detectives said anything about the case?”
“No, not at all. They tried to find the link between the people, but all they found were people trying to sell some real estate.”
“That might be the key, but so what?”“Exactly. So what if they sell some land? It wouldn’t matter.”“I’ll see you when you get home.”I made sure all I needed was inside my bag before going out to the car. I punched the button, raising the garage door. Soon I’d backed up, the house was secure, and I drove in the opposite direction toward Lake-of-the-Isles, where they lived. It was a new subdivision for retired people, and they loved it. Grandma had a wonderful flower garden, and that’s what I’ll always remember her for. She was chair of the local chapter of Beautify the Lake.
The road wound up around the Calhoun Beach Manor and over hills, and beautiful green parks filled with walkers and sun seekers, until at last I reached the street to turn into. Grandma’s Goldenrod lilies lit up the street boulevard, and I parked right beside them.
“Hi Grandpa.” I entered and immediately saw him sitting in his chair in the living room, with a shot glass beside him. “Where’s Grandma?” I kissed his sunken cheek. “Kitchen. She kicked me out.” His sheepish eyes looked at me.
“Didn’t you pour her a glass of wine?” I asked.“I didn’t get the Riesling chilled.”“That’s why. It’s in the fridge now, right?”“Will you go down and get the bottles?” Grandpa asked.“Sure.” I smiled and kissed him again. He did this to me constantly, but I didn’t mind. He started me in business. I loved him with all of my heart. I fled downstairs to the wine and reached for three bottles and flew back upstairs. Grandma was in the kitchen cutting vegetables for the salad. I put the bottles in the fridge.
“Hi Grandma. You look great.” My nifty grandma wore pink capris, and a matching flowered top and sparkly jewelry to match. I gave her a kiss. “Can I help?”
“I’m almost done, but you can set the table. They should be arriving any minute.”
“Who’s they?”
“I should’ve invited you and Aaron anyway. I apologize for not planning this better. Don’t know what I was thinking.” She looked at me and smiled, wiping her brow as she held the sharp knife. “It’s Edna Blake. Do you remember her? She was a secretary for Pat Nixon.”
“You’re kidding? I was going to ask you about her, but couldn’t remember her name.”
“Hmmm, I really should ask you ‘why’ but I think it’s better that I don’t know. Last time, you almost got killed. And the same time before, too.” I watched tears fill her eyes. “Never mind—go set the table.” She wiped her eyes. “Wait! What president?”
“Teddy Roosevelt.” “Stay out of it.”