I smiled at my co-leader. "Now you're talking like a detective."
"When we get back to the cabin, we need to set up a murder board," Kelly mused. "There's a huge pad of paper on an easel. And markers."
"You're in charge of that." I glanced around the room. "Let's tackle the sitting room."
That particular room had huge windows that looked out over the river. Two sets of white wingback chairs, angled toward each other, faced the windows. A small fireplace was against the outer wall with a loveseat in front of it. A bookshelf filled with paperbacks was against the other wall with a reading chair and lamp.
"This is where all the guests could sit and look out," Kelly said. "I can see this as a resort now."
"It's not a very big one," I mumbled. "More like a bed and breakfast."
"Merry," Kelly said. "If she wanted to sell it to be a B&B or hotel or something, why leave it to you?"
I was getting the gist. "And why not include that in the instructions? That's a good point."
I kept coming back to the consensus of the town that Aunt June was eccentric. It was the only thing that made sense. It was as if she flitted from one idea to another. In the end, it was just about sending me the ashes and Nigel handing me the keys.
A shout came from across the hall. "Mrs. Wrath!"
Kelly and I raced into the master bedroom, where Kaitlyn was triumphantly waving an envelope. "It has your name on it!"
Betty got there first, snatched the envelope from Kaitlyn, and held it to her forehead. "I see something about an ostrich!"
I took the sealed envelope from her and tore it open.
"Nice job, Kaitlyn!" I read the first line.
Congratulations, Merry! You found Clue #2!
"What else does it say?" Inez prodded.
"It says Don't stick your head in the sand."
We all turned to Betty. Now how did she know that?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"I'll give you this one as a freebie." Betty put the note back into the envelope. "You can see the writing through the paper."
She was right. To be honest, I was a little let down that it had been so easy.
"That's all it said?" Kelly asked. "No offence to Aunt June and all, but 'I can feel it in my bones' and 'don't stick your head in the sand'? It does seem a little crazy."
We broke for lunch. Kelly had made a picnic, and we took it to the backyard. I spread out a huge blanket on the lawn, and we munched on sandwiches and juice boxes. The girls hadn't found anything else in their search of the second floor, and we were still one or two clues out.
What did it mean? Had the woman been vague on purpose, just to get a laugh thinking of me tearing through the house? Or did it mean something? Spies used code language. Why hadn't Riley called? I texted him to ask what he'd found out. He sent back the number zero.
Looking around at the large property, I could see this becoming a small tourist hotspot. Maybe the Girl Scouts could do tours of the Indian burial mounds and run the high ropes course in the off-season. I'd come and relax here.
Was I chasing something that never happened? If so, it didn't feel like a wild-goose chase because it was fun doing this with Kelly and the girls. I got to spend more time with them. And they were getting older. They'd be in fifth grade soon.
Where had the time gone? Those tiny five-year-olds we'd first taken on were smart, savvy ten-year-olds now. No, if this was a farce, it was still an adventure. And I was lucky enough to be along for the ride.
We spent two hours after lunch going through the first and second floors again but didn't find a single clue. The girls were dragging, and Kelly suggested we head back to camp for a nap. To our complete shock, every girl agreed.
"We need to take advantage of this before they change their minds," Kelly said as we got back into the van.
I looked at the girls through the rearview mirror. We hadn't done that much today. Why did I get the feeling that they were storing up their reserves to sneak out at night? Oh well. Why question it? I had errands to run. It was time to go see the coroner.
After dropping Kelly off at the lodge, I called Jared at the sheriff's office, and he gave me the phone number for Coroner Pete. Was that his last name too? Aunt June's last name was June. Maybe it was a cultural thing in this area. I began tapping in the number as I pulled away.
"Thanks for seeing me, um, Coroner Pete." I shook his hand and sat down at his dining room table. "Is Pete your last name? Like Aunt June?"
"He laughed. No, folks are very informal here. The name's Oroner. Pete Oroner. But you can still call me Pete." The man smiled. "Now I hear you want to know about Aunt June."
Coroner Oroner was a typical Iowan—straight to the point. Coroner Oroner. Yeesh!
Peter Oroner looked like any other man in his sixties. Average height. Average weight. Average haircut. If I had to pick him out of a lineup in twenty minutes, I wasn't sure I could. The man would literally blend in with any crowd. He would've made a great spy.
"How long have you been coroner, Mr.…" I hesitated, only because it felt silly saying coroner and Oroner in the same sentence.
He held up a hand. "Like I said. Call me Pete. Please."
I gave him my warmest smile. "Only if you'll call me Merry."
The man returned the smile. "Well, Merry, I've been elected county coroner in every election for the past thirty-two years."
"You've been coroner for more than three decades?"
I guess that wasn't too unusual. It was probably difficult to find someone
