bluff overlooking Gladstone, then along scenic Lake Michigan into Escanaba and parked the truck in the visitor’s lot.
Martin was climbing into an enormous logging truck right as I walked up.
He recognized me and hopped back down.
“I’m following up on a few leads,” I explained, making stuff up as I went along. “And I need you to substantiate some claims and fill in some details. Gus said you and he were going to continue running your dad’s moonshine business over in the state park.”
“That’s nothing new,” Martin said, growing wary. “The sheriff knows all about it, and he looks the other way.”
“Don’t we all when it comes to homemade liquor?” I said to reassure him. “I’m not complaining one bit. What you do is your business. But Frank Hanson was in on it too. Right?”
Martin didn’t say anything for a minute. Then, “Gus told you that?”
I nodded, even though Gus hadn’t. “It really surprised me.”
“I don’t know why Gus would say a thing like that.” Martin leaned against the semi. “Hansons and Ahos don’t do business together.”
“You aren’t making my job any easier by being evasive. I know Frank was in communication with you or your brother or both.”
“All I have is what Gus told me.”
“And that was?”
“Frank said he had information about the person who killed our dad. And he was willing to share the name for a fee.”
“Did he see it happen?”
Martin shrugged. “He was a creep. You couldn’t believe a thing that came out of his mouth.”
I studied Martin’s big, sturdy frame. “Maybe you shot him in retaliation.”
“Whoa there!” Martin put his hands up in the air like I was drawing on him. “Nothing of the sort. I already went over this with the sheriff and he checked out my whereabouts. I’m clean.”
“I suppose Ida Johnson vouched for you.”
“Hunh?”
“Never mind. Your mom fired the Trouble Busters.”
“Did you prove that Chet Hanson did it?”
“Not yet.”
“Then I guess you ran out of time.” He climbed back into his truck.
I stood watching him pull out, shifting through all those gears, and while I did that, I had a few choice thoughts about my son. Martin had an alibi. If Blaze had shared information with me like he should, I wouldn’t be wasting all this time retracing his steps.
Before Fred and I took off in my truck, I made sure the bean bag gun was fully loaded and operational. Then I tucked it under my seat where it would be handy if I needed it.
*
“You’re cracking up,” I said into the cell phone, the one that everybody but me thought I should own. I’m a technically challenged adult, I tried to tell them. Most of the time, I don’t even turn it on unless I need it. Unless I’m in the middle of an investigation, like now.
“Can you hear me,” Cora Mae said.
I pulled off the road because that’s what you have to do in the Michigan Upper Peninsula if you want to stay connected. “That’s better.”
“I sent Chet to pick up Kitty,” she said.
“Why does she need to be picked up?”
“She went to that boot camp you sent her to and ended up on the ground, passed out cold. I can’t believe you sent her off to do such a thing, considering her size.”
“I specifically told her not to exercise. Besides, you had a chance to trade. Is she okay?”
“One of the drill sergeants was a nurse. He checked her out. She’s fine, but he advised her not to drive right away. Chet will take her home, get her settled, and stop at the store for me. I searched his house like you asked me to. And guess what? I found something.”
“What?”
“A purple umbrella.”
“A purple umbrella?”
“That’s what I said.”
“I was expecting love letters, or pictures buried in his underwear drawer, or hot dates written on his calendar. Or panties.”
“I found panties inside the umbrella!”
This was getting stranger by the minute. Here I was, sitting on the side of M35 with people I knew
Martin was climbing into an enormous logging truck right as I walked up.
He recognized me and hopped back down.
“I’m following up on a few leads,” I explained, making stuff up as I went along. “And I need you to substantiate some claims and fill in some details. Gus said you and he were going to continue running your dad’s moonshine business over in the state park.”
“That’s nothing new,” Martin said, growing wary. “The sheriff knows all about it, and he looks the other way.”
“Don’t we all when it comes to homemade liquor?” I said to reassure him. “I’m not complaining one bit. What you do is your business. But Frank Hanson was in on it too. Right?”
Martin didn’t say anything for a minute. Then, “Gus told you that?”
I nodded, even though Gus hadn’t. “It really surprised me.”
“I don’t know why Gus would say a thing like that.” Martin leaned against the semi. “Hansons and Ahos don’t do business together.”
“You aren’t making my job any easier by being evasive. I know Frank was in communication with you or your brother or both.”
“All I have is what Gus told me.”
“And that was?”
“Frank said he had information about the person who killed our dad. And he was willing to share the name for a fee.”
“Did he see it happen?”
Martin shrugged. “He was a creep. You couldn’t believe a thing that came out of his mouth.”
I studied Martin’s big, sturdy frame. “Maybe you shot him in retaliation.”
“Whoa there!” Martin put his hands up in the air like I was drawing on him. “Nothing of the sort. I already went over this with the sheriff and he checked out my whereabouts. I’m clean.”
“I suppose Ida Johnson vouched for you.”
“Hunh?”
“Never mind. Your mom fired the Trouble Busters.”
“Did you prove that Chet Hanson did it?”
“Not yet.”
“Then I guess you ran out of time.” He climbed back into his truck.
I stood watching him pull out, shifting through all those gears, and while I did that, I had a few choice thoughts about my son. Martin had an alibi. If Blaze had shared information with me like he should, I wouldn’t be wasting all this time retracing his steps.
Before Fred and I took off in my truck, I made sure the bean bag gun was fully loaded and operational. Then I tucked it under my seat where it would be handy if I needed it.
*
“You’re cracking up,” I said into the cell phone, the one that everybody but me thought I should own. I’m a technically challenged adult, I tried to tell them. Most of the time, I don’t even turn it on unless I need it. Unless I’m in the middle of an investigation, like now.
“Can you hear me,” Cora Mae said.
I pulled off the road because that’s what you have to do in the Michigan Upper Peninsula if you want to stay connected. “That’s better.”
“I sent Chet to pick up Kitty,” she said.
“Why does she need to be picked up?”
“She went to that boot camp you sent her to and ended up on the ground, passed out cold. I can’t believe you sent her off to do such a thing, considering her size.”
“I specifically told her not to exercise. Besides, you had a chance to trade. Is she okay?”
“One of the drill sergeants was a nurse. He checked her out. She’s fine, but he advised her not to drive right away. Chet will take her home, get her settled, and stop at the store for me. I searched his house like you asked me to. And guess what? I found something.”
“What?”
“A purple umbrella.”
“A purple umbrella?”
“That’s what I said.”
“I was expecting love letters, or pictures buried in his underwear drawer, or hot dates written on his calendar. Or panties.”
“I found panties inside the umbrella!”
This was getting stranger by the minute. Here I was, sitting on the side of M35 with people I knew
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