Searching for a needle in a haystack seemed like an understatement here.
"Here you are!" Nancy set a plate in front of me.
Then again, because everyone knew everyone, if I asked just the right thing to the right gossip, I might just find what I was looking for. However, I was an outsider, and small towns, being close knit, often shut outsiders out. Although I was technically now a property owner since I'd inherited Aunt June's estate. Would that be enough to get people to open up?
All of those thoughts dissipated as the aroma of my dinner took over all of my senses. I took a bite and groaned loudly.
"Oh my God. This is amazing!" I'm pretty sure my taste buds had a euphoric moment consistent with snuggling ten puppies or finding out you could eat as many Oreos as you wanted without gaining weight or getting sick.
The girls and Kelly all nodded in agreement, their mouths full of food. It was hard to think about anything but my taste buds as I took bite after bite, savoring and gulping down my food simultaneously.
My mind floated back to the investigation. Starting with the basics, I'd need to find out if there'd been an obituary. I hadn't seen a town newspaper or even a funeral home. For as much as they hated nearby Dubuque, did they go there for their news and funeral arrangements?
I made a list in my head of who I'd already met…Nancy (and, sort of, Murl), Nigel, Emmy, Toad, and Hal. I still needed to meet Dr. Morgan and anyone else who was someone important in town. For that, I'd need a full night's rest. And I was pretty sure I wasn't going to get any tonight.
I could start now. Nancy was taking a break at the counter, drinking coffee. I excused myself and joined her at the counter. Someone like her knew everyone, and as she moved among the tables all day, she must hear all kinds of interesting things. She'd been super nice since we'd arrived. Hopefully, she'd continue, and I could do a little digging.
She turned to me as I sat down, smiling warmly. "How was your dinner?"
"It's the best I've ever had," I gushed. "Did you cook this or does Murl do it?"
Nancy laughed. "Murl does all the cooking. I can do it, but someone has to run things here."
I'd buttered her up. That was step one. I needed a gateway to step two…
Nancy took another sip of coffee before saying, "So what brings you ladies to town? Are you just here for Camp des Morts?"
There it was. My opening.
"Actually," I said, using my saddest expression—the one I'd used to get sympathy from a vicious Yakuza mob boss or my husband when I wanted a third night of ordering out. "We came here for another reason. Well, I did. When Kelly found out, she decided we needed to bring the girls to see Camp des Morts. It's considered the best Scout camp in the state."
Nancy nodded as if she'd always known this, and I wondered if she already knew about Aunt June, considering how fast word got around here. "What's the other reason?"
"I've had a death in the family." I studied her reaction.
Did I imagine it, or did a muscle in her cheek twitch?
She patted my arm. "I'm so sorry! Anyone I know?"
She was almost convincing.
"I'm sure you do. Aunt Delilah June? She lived here. I'd never met the woman, but she left me everything."
"Everything?" For a split second, Nancy seemed stunned. She recovered quickly.
I continued before she could gather her thoughts. "The thing is, I'm feeling pretty guilty. I never knew the woman. She'd been friends with my grandmother. I didn't know that she even knew I existed."
Nancy visibly relaxed. That was interesting. Had what I said made her think I wasn't a threat? Personally, I liked being underestimated. It's a valuable tool in spycraft. People love to think they know more than you. If they think you're a total idiot, they drop their guard and say things they wouldn't normally say in public.
Once, in Cairo, I was undercover as a camel washer for a tourist agency. I did that job for three weeks, waiting for the Russian ambassador to go on a caravan with his wife and colleagues. Here in the US, they would've played golf. In Egypt, the equivalent was riding camels into a sandstorm.
And let me just say that camels are huge, smelly, stubborn beasts, and bathing them is like forcibly washing three deranged NFL linebackers with a garden hose.
At any rate, I was disguised as a skinny, slightly feminine boy. And I got so much intel from those twenty minutes of overhearing the ambassador complaining to his wife about his work that we were able to stop a minor Russian incursion deeper into Ukraine.
You might not think shoveling camel crap for three weeks was worth it, but to the people in that area of Ukraine, it was worth every moment. Besides, I now knew how to control a camel, which came as a bonus one night in Somalia when I had to outrun a couple of goons riding those little Shrine motorcycles. It was a misunderstanding, but in hindsight, insulting a man's pet turkey is never a good idea…in any country.
"Aunt June was lovely," Nancy demurred. "If we weren't so busy right now, I'd tell you some stories, but as you can see…" She waved her hand around. "We're pretty busy." She got to her feet and excused herself.
Did I imagine it, or did Nancy seem stunned that Aunt June had left someone everything? Or maybe she was stunned that she left it all to an outsider who didn't know her. Would it be wise to come
