Brown Shells Holding Keys

My husband came home grinning from ear to ear, “Why are you in good mood?” I asked.
“How would you feel about moving?”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because honey, your childhood home is up for sale and I put a bid in,” he said.
That made me smile. I hugged him. “Are you for real?” I asked.
“Oh yeas I am. I was on a job right next door and got to talking to the current owner. He said he was looking to sell. He decided just that morning. Said with his wife dead and his kids all up he don’t need a big place anymore. I told him my wife grew up in this house and I’d like to buy it. So you wanna move there?”
“Oh yes I do.”
“Okay then I’ll call some mortgage companies and get this ball rolling.” He kissed me and went into the other room.
It seemed as though my luck was finally changing. This past year has been rough on all of us. I lost my job at the newspaper then I miscarried. I thought the move is just what we needed; getting away from the city and a new beginning. I knew my daughter, Anna, would love growing up there, just as I did.
A whole month passed before we could move in. The outside looked the same with only a recent coat of paint added. I opened the door and floods of memories enveloped me; memories of wonderful times and memories of my mother.
The previous owner did not change anything other then some new tile on the kitchen floor, new cabinets and fresh paint on the walls. He left the area rugs; we didn’t have any when I lived here.
Anna ran around as I sat on the steps leading upstairs and thoughts of my mother drifted back. We were so close. She taught me to cook and I helped her around the house. I loved her so much.
My mother died when I was 13. The investigation on her death went cold with in months of her murder. She was closing the diner, it was after midnight, and someone came in. The police said it was a robbery gone badly. She was shot once in her head.
Dad found her. He was getting worried since it was 1 am and she wasn’t home. He woke me and said he was picking up mom. The rest is unsolved. After mom died, we sold the house and moved to the city. Mom’s been dead for 17 years.
John came in and saw tears running down my face. “You okay Ellie?”
I shook my head. He sat down beside me and put his arm around me, “I love you, Ellie.”
“I love you, too.”
The guys showed up with the truck. John looked at me and said, “Are you gonna be okay living here?”
“Yeah, lots of great memories here and lots more to come,” I told him. I gathered Anna and took her for a ride around town.
I wanted to see if the diner was open yet but in its place was a convenience store. Riverdale was just like how it always was; American flags flew off of porches, kids rode bikes and laughed, adults tended to manicured lawns, gardens, and homes. The wonderful smells of barbeques filled the air.
The Tastee-Freeze was still in business. I pulled into the parking lot to treat Anna and myself to some ice cream. I walked in and ordered. The woman behind the counter looked at me like she knew me. She looked familiar; many people that grew up here and stayed here or came back later on. So who knew, I could’ve known her.
We sat down at a table on the deck. The woman behind the counter approached us.
“I’m sorry but you look awfully familiar,” she said.
“I grew up here,” I told her.
“Elaina McKenzie?” she asked.
“Yeah that’s me.”
“I thought it was you. I don’t know if you’ll remember me, I’m Michelle Brown.”
I had to think for a minute. I did remember Shelly. She was a little younger than me. Our mothers worked together at the diner. I only saw her a few times.
“Yeah I remember you.” I invited her to sit. She said after I moved, her and her family moved out of state. She came back 5 years ago when she bought the Tastee-Freeze. I told her we moved into my old house.
She stood up, “Well I gotta get back to work. It was great seeing you.”
“Come by home, anytime,” I said.
“Okay I will.” And she went back behind the counter. I got Anna and went home.
“Have a good time, Ellie?” asked John.
“Yeah, I ran into someone I haven’t seen in a long while.”
“Great. Speaking of someone you hadn’t seen in awhile a woman named Jenny stopped by. Here’s her number.” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a business card.
It was the card of my old best friend, Jenny Smith. We grew up together. When I moved, we tried keeping touch but life happens. Her name wasn’t Smith anymore it was Johnson. I wondered if she married Joey Johnson; they were high school sweethearts.
The guys, John’s co-workers, finished and I went out to get pizza, beer and some other things. I called Jenny on my cell. She picked up on the second ring.
“Small Town Realty.”
“Can I speak to Jenny Johnson?”
“This is she,” she said.
“This is Ellie, you stopped by earlier.”
“Oh Ellie, I’m so glad you called. It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah I know too long.”
“When I heard Bob sold his house to the original owner, I knew it was you. I missed you so much Ellie.”
“I missed you to. Hey why don’t you come by in a few days and we’ll catch up,” I said.
“Okay, how about next Saturday?” she suggested.
“Great, we’ll cookout.”
“I’ll bring Joe and the kids. See you next Saturday,” Jenny said.
She hung up. I finished my errands and retuned home. John already had the stereo hooked up. It was good to be home.
After I put Anna to bed, John hooked up more electronics and I was in the kitchen getting another cup of coffee, when I thought I heard a dog walking behind me. I turned around. Nothing.
Once I had a dog. I was about 10. He was a golden retriever named Sam. He died of old age. Mom and Dad had a funeral for him in the backyard. Must’ve been memories playing tricks on my mind. The night drifted on.
The next day we unpacked. I was working on the kitchen when Anna ran in with an old rotary Tiffany phone. I knew it was my mother’s. I snatched it away from her.
“Where’d you get this?”
She babbled and whined for it back. John followed her in, “I found it in the closet in the den. I didn’t know whose it was. Sorry,” he said.
I thought for a minute and handed the phone back to Anna. “It might not be hers anyway. I don’t know if it is or not. Anna should have something of Grammy’s anyway; she would let her play with it.”
Anna got on the chair and started talking into the phone. She said hi and cat and other words she knew. Then she was quiet and it looked like she was listening to someone. Anna said a few more words then bye and hung up the phone.
“You see that, John? It looked like Anna was talking to someone.”
“Yeah she is pretty cute,” John said and left the room.
The days went by fast. Everyday about the same time, Anna talked on the Tiffany phone. It bothered me. On Friday, I grabbed the receiver and put it to my ear. I thought I heard something. Anna whined for the phone. I gave it back to her. Being the reasonable person that I am; I knew that my imagination got the best of me. That night, I thought I heard a dog behind me again. Now, I knew I lost my marbles.
Jenny and her family arrived around 2 pm. She had 2 daughters, one must have been close to Anna’s age and the other promptly told me she was 5. Joe gave me a hug and shook John’s hand. My husband, a general contractor, and Joe an electrician; both owned their own businesses and they did a job together before. The men retreated to the grill. Jenny and I took the kids to the yard and drank beer.
“I am so glad you’re here, Ellie. I can’t believe it’s been 15 years already since we talked,” Jenny said.
“I know. There just seems to be so much we missed out on,” I told her.
“Well you know that happens.”
“Mmm hmm, it does.”
We talked about everything and soon we were caught up in each other’s life.
“Hey Jenny, did your kids talk on the phone for a quite a bit of time even though the phone is unplugged?” I asked her.
“I guess they did for a couple of minutes,” she said, “perfectly normal.”
“No, this isn’t Jenny. Anna talks on my mother’s old phone at about the same time everyday. Anna could be involved with something else and right around 11 am she’ll run to the phone and start talking.”
“That is weird.”
“It’s like she’s the only one hearing it ring. I took the phone away from her and I could’ve sworn I heard something. It’s really starting to freak me out. These talks seem like they are getting longer and not only that, sometimes late at night I hear the footsteps of a dog following me through the kitchen.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Okay so now you think I’m off my rocker,” I joked.
“No Ellie, I believe you. Maybe you’ve got to deal with some ghosts. And I’m not talking about the things that go bump in the night. Your mother’s death, maybe coming here opened up doors that you sealed shut long ago. Maybe you should deal with your mother’s death, talk to the police maybe they’ll reopen the case,” Jenny said.
I thought on it some, “You know Jenny that sounds like a good idea. I knew you’d come up with something.”
“That’s what friends are for.” She laughed a little.
Once Jenny and family left, I told John my plan of going to the police and try to reopen my mother’s case.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea. It is a cold case. What if nothing new turns up?” he said.
“It’s been 17 years, John. Technology is better. Who knows, they might not have even cared to re-open it since no one has asked to. What if they do find something new? I’ve got to at least try. I see all the time on TV about cold cases being cracked years later.”
“Well if that is what you want to do. I just don’t want to get depressed if nothing happens,” he said as he embraced me.
“I’ve just got to hope on something. Plus it gives me a story idea. I’ll write about my experience.”
“Okay Ellie, whatever you want.”
On Monday morning, I rushed Anna ready and we were off to the Riverdale Police station. About a half hour later, a detective came out and took me to his desk. He looked familiar. Of course in a small town everyone looked like everyone else. He had to be in his 50’s, his hair was gray and wrinkles surrounded his grey eyes and mouth.
“Hello Ms McKenzie, I’m Detective Bob Grady. What can I help you with today?” he said in a slow, sad voice.
“I’d like you to reopen my mother’s case.”
“What is the deceased’s name and year of death?” he asked.
“Laurie McKenzie died in 1981.”
He looked me square in the eye, “You said Laurie McKenzie, waitress at the diner fatal gun shot to the head?”
“Yes.” Then I remembered him at the time he was just a policeman. I met him a couple of times.
He ruffled through some folders on his desk and pulled out a thick manila folder. Then Detective Grady tossed it in front of me. He nodded his head. I looked at the name, “Laurie McKenzie.” I couldn’t bring myself to look through the folder. I knew the crime scene photos would be in there. I never saw her body. I always kept the image of her of how she was before she left for work and that’s how I wanted to keep it.
“Elaina right?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“I never gave up working this case. I knew Laurie. I was her last customer and I was the first to answer the 911 call. I normally stayed until she was in her car. I had a call, a domestic dispute. When I got there, it was nothing. Then the other call came in. Look Elaina, there are no leads whatsoever. I’ve turned every stone. I’ve talked to every single person she could have had contact with. Nothing,” he said.
I felt the tears coming. I had to hold them back,” Okay what can you tell me?” I asked.
“What do you want to know?”
“Maybe everything.”
He sat forward and grabbed the folder. “We believe the attacker knew her routine well enough to know when she would be alone. We also believe the domestic dispute came in from a pay phone as way to distract me. She was shot with a German Lugar pistol. No fingerprints, no record on the gun other then it came from Germany. The gun was never reported stolen. That’s about it, Elaina.”
“Thanks for the information.” I gave him my number, “Please call if anything comes up.”
“I will Elaina but don’t get your hopes up.”
There had to be something; a key to unlocking this puzzle. I just knew eventually someone does get caught. It was 1998 for god sakes. We pulled in at home and about as soon as we got inside, Anna rushed to her phone and started talking away.
Again, I snatched the receiver, “Who is this? Who the hell is this?”
Anna cried. I threw the phone against the wall. Much to my surprise, it didn’t break. Anna ran over and continued talking on it. I called Jenny and filled her in with the latest. She said she was sorry there was nothing new but was glad they kept the case open after all these years.
Anna watched TV and I stared out the window. I called a friend I still had at the paper.
“Hey George, it’s me Ellie. Do you remember when you did that story about physic lady helped the police solve the murder of that Graham girl?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I’d like to talk to her.”
“For a story or something?’ he asked.
“Yeah something.”
He was quiet for a few minutes and then said, “Let me call you back. I’ve got to go through my notes for her contact information. Remember she came to them, they didn’t come to her.”
“Okay, I just want to talk to her.”
“I’ll call you back,” he hung up the phone.
George called back an hour later,” Ellie, her name is Elsa Dawson.” He gave her phone number and said, “Good luck,” and hung up.
I looked her up on the internet. A few news stories covered the work she did with the FBI and various police departments across the country. Dawson does not consider herself a physic but more like person with visions or in her words really good intuition one article said. The article went to on to say her and her husband did PI work and sometimes Dawson’s gift could crack the case.
What would it hurt if I just talked to with her? I dialed her number.
A voice of an older lady answered, “Hello.”
“Hello, I’m Elaina McKenzie and I would like to speak to Elsa Dawson.”
“This is,” she said, “What can I help you with?”
“Well I don’t know where to start but my friend George at the Post gave me your contact information. See I just moved into my childhood home and since I’ve been here I heard a dog walking behind me even though I don’t have one. And my 2 year old daughter has conversations to someone on an unplugged phone everyday at the same time.”
“Why call me?” she asked.
“I guess; I could use your help. Maybe I’m losing my marbles. I don’t know could you maybe come to my house and I don’t know feel something.”
“Look Ms McKenzie, I’m not a physic. Sometimes I get these feelings or notions or whatever you call them. And before I do anything I make sure I ‘m not crazy and research what I seen then I contact the police. I really don’t think I can help you, I’m sorry dear.”
“Wait, Mrs. Dawson if you change your mind I live on 2236 Oak Street Riverdale, PA. Maybe you can tell me something,” I begged her.
“Really I can’t, sorry.” I knew I lost the battle but before she hung up she said, “Look, I believe you’re not crazy about the noises and your daughter talking to someone.” Her line went dead.
That night, I told John about the disappointing news from the police. He asked if I was okay and said he was sorry. However, I neglected to share information about Elsa Dawson. He never believed in the supernatural anyway. I would’ve just wasted my breath.
I searched online for other paranormal experts and no one appealed to me. So the phone calls to Anna and sounds of an invisible dog just went on.
Right before July 4th, there was a knock at the door. Anna was running around and yelling. I thought it was Jenny or Shelly so I hollered for them to come in. An older lady walked in.
She reminded me of a grandma. She was plump with silver curly hair and wore glasses. Anna seen her and stopped dead in her tracks.
“Hello, can I help you with something?” I asked.
“As I remember right you called me for help.”
“Elsa Dawson?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
I stood and shook her hand, “well come in and have a seat. That’s Anna. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”
“No, a bathroom would do though,” she said in a kind old lady way.
After she came back from the bathroom, she sat on the sofa.
“Well Mrs. Dawson,” I said.
“You can call me Elsa.”
“Okay. What changed your mind about coming down here?”
“Elaina, isn’t it?”
“Ellie.”
“Well Ellie, to be frank I was unusually bothered by your phone call. I get a lot of people calling me, sometimes about finding something lost or stolen. Lord knows, I get a lot of loonies. Anywho, I was bothered about something. So I did a little background work on you. Why didn’t you tell me your mother was murdered?”
I was shocked, “I didn’t think it was important.”
“I do. I think your daughter talks to your mother. I read all the news articles on your mother’s murder. Your family is the only McKenzie’s in Riverdale; I put two and two together. Can I have some water?”
“Yes, of course.” I got her a glass of water.
“Did I miss the phone call?” Elsa asked.
“Yeah, that happens about 11:00 am.”
“Okay, can I come tomorrow then? That is if you still want my help.”
“I do,” I said, “And yes, come tomorrow.” I thought for a minute and asked, “Did you have visions or something? Is that why you came?”
“I’m not really sure at all. I just know I had to come. Of course being a licensed investigator I could be of some use to you.”
I was so happy she was here. I believed she was the only one that could help.
“So when does Anna take a nap?” asked the grandma investigator.
“I looked at my watch, “In another couple of hours.”
“Hmm,” she stood up, “I’ll like to talk to the detective handling your mother’s case. I’m gonna come back when Anna’s sleeping so you can show me the attic.”
“Okay it’s Detective Bob Grady.”
She walked out and drove off in her Ford station wagon.
The attic? Why would she want to go there? I wondered. I knew Dad left most of Mom’s things in the attic. He just couldn’t throw them away. We only took the most important and most valuable things. I would be almost positive the former family would have thrown the things out. What on Earth was she expecting to find?
No sooner did Anna fall asleep, when someone knocked at the door, it was Elsa.
“Hello, come in did Detective Grady give you any news?” I asked possible hoping a PI on my side, there might be information he neglected to share with me.
“Deary, I know exactly what you know. I wanted to read the case for myself. Now the attic.”
Boy she was a little pushy. I got a ladder from the garage and we carried it upstairs to the master bedroom, where there was a crawl space. I popped open the door, turned on my flashlight and hoisted myself up. Then I helped Elsa up.
“Hey Elsa, why did you want to come in here?”
“Just looking for incite. See I lived in a house like this and I hid stuff always in the attic. I was the only one who could fit except for my children but they knew not go in there.”
“My Dad put my mother’s things in here before we moved. It’s probably gone now.”
I shined the light around the expansive room. And in the corner in decaying boxes and trunks were her things. Elsa was already navigating the 2x4’s. Then she pulled a loose board off the wall.
“Ellie, come here. I want to show you something.” I slowly made my way to her.
In her hands was a cigar box. My Dad smoked those cigars so it was either his box or Mom’s. She opened it. Inside, there was money and a lot of it. Some of it was wrinkled and worn but otherwise in good shape.
“Did you know about this?” Elsa asked.
“No, I never saw it.”
“Count it.”
I took the money and counted $1,102 in small denominations, mostly 1’s and 5’s. “Maybe it was her tip money, maybe she was saving it for something,” I said.
“Call your father and ask him about the money. Ask about their finances. What she paid for with her share of the money. Try to get as much information as possible.”
“Okay I’ll do it now.” I heard Anna cry, “Anna’s awake.”
“Do you mind if I keep poking around. Anything out of the ordinary, I’ll bring to your attention.”
“No, go ahead.”
I scurried down the ladder and got Anna. I got her some ice cream and dialed Dad’s number. I knew better to mention I hired a PI/psychic to investigate mom’s death, it would anger him.
“Hello Dad,” I said after he picked up on the third ring.
“Ellie, it’s good to hear from you. How’s that old house treating you?”
“Aww you know we love it here. But I called to ask you something.”
“Okay sweetheart, what is it?”
“I was poking around the attic and I found a box of money, do you know what was for?”
“A box of money? Lord, I don’t know. Laurie handled the money, if she stashed money away I wouldn’t be surprised but I don’t know for what. See your mom was a whiz with numbers. As long as I had money every week, gas in the car and the bills up to date I never asked.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Well how much did you find?” he asked.
“Close to a thousand.”
“Hmmm. Well I am sure your mother was saving it for you anyway, so I guess it is all yours.” I could hear in his voice he was done talking about mom, so we said our good-byes and hung up.
Elsa came downstairs while later, “Well nothing unusual. I’ll come by tomorrow morning. Did you call your Dad?”
“Yeah, he doesn’t know anything about it,” I told her and she let herself out.
I mentioned to John that I hired a detective to help with my story. He said it was a good idea and disappeared into the den.
Elsa knocked on the door close to 10:30, “Did I miss the phone call, yet?” She excitedly asked.
“Nope.”
“Good, I don’t want to miss it.”
She was only there a few minutes when Anna suddenly leapt up and got her phone. Anna came to Elsa and handed her the phone. She listened and said nothing. After a minute or two, Elsa hung up the phone.
“Well,” I said.
“I heard something not sure what it was, sounded like static. But what I seen that is a different story.”
“Well what’s that?” I couldn’t contain myself. “Was it mom? Was she showing you the man that killed her? What?”
“Brown shells holding keys. That’s it. Brown shells holding keys.”
“What does that mean?!” I screamed at her.
“Now calm down, Ellie. I don’t know yet. Does it mean anything to you; something special about brown shells?”
“No, I don’t know what it means.” I was disappointed. I hoped she would see mom. I sat on the couch and held back the tears. “So can I ask, Elsa, was it Mom Anna talks to?”
“In my opinion, I believe your mother is on the phone with your daughter.”
“Well that’s good to know.”
“I’m going to do some tracing on the gun that was used. With the internet nowadays, I can do a lot more research. I’ll call you when I find something,” she said.
“Okay.”
She got up to leave, “Ellie please call if you figure out the brown shell thing.” She handed me her card.
“Thanks, Elsa,” I said.
“Okay then, you’ll hear from me.” And then she disappeared into the sun.
I called Jenny and invited her over. She arrived with the kids a few minutes later. I filled her in with everything.
“So what do you think brown shells mean?” I asked her.
“I don’t know. Let’s think.”
“Maybe,” I thought aloud, “brown shells symbolizes a person holding a key; a key to unlocking the mystery of Mom’s death. You know Elsa did say she had a pretty good notion that it was Mom.”
“Okay, that makes sense. But who would be brown shells?”
Like a bolt of lightening, the answer struck me, I shouted, “Shelly Brown. Get it brown shells, Shelly Brown.”
“Yeah it makes perfect sense,” Jenny said just as excited.
“Okay, Jenny but what does Shelly Brown have to do with my mother’s murder?”
“Maybe you should invite her over for a chat.”
“Yeah I should. Hey, Jenny, you know everyone in town what can you tell me about her?”
“I don’t know much. She’s younger than us you know. I sold her the Tastee-Freeze. You know she used live above Thomas’ Hardware store back when we were kids. She didn’t have any brothers or sisters, I know that. You might remember her dad. He was a wounded Vietnam vet. Remember he carried the flag for the parades; he had one arm.”
“Yeah.”
“Well that’s her dad. Oh yeah and they moved away a couple of weeks after your mom died. That’s it, Ellie. I don’t think that’s going to help at all,” Jenny said.
“Maybe it will once I talk with Shelly. Her mom and my mom were friends and worked at the diner together. Shelly and her mom only came over a couple of times.”
Jenny left. I called Elsa but got voicemail and left a message about our discovery.
The next day, Elsa still hadn’t called back. Must be following some lead, I thought. After lunch, Anna and I went to the Tastee-Freeze. Lucky for me, Shelly was working.
“Hello Ellie, what can I get for you?” she asked.
“A small chocolate in a dish and a medium mint chocolate chip in a dish.”
“Okay, $4.50”
I handed her a five and then asked, “Would you like to come over sometime this week for lunch or something, we can catch up?”
“You know that would be really nice. Let’s get together Thursday. I am free until 3:00. How about then?” She handed me the ice cream.
“Sounds like a plan how does 11:30 sound for you?” I asked.
“Fine, you want me to bring anything?”
“How about some ice cream?”
She kind of laughed, “Okay.”
It was no sooner I sat down when Elsa called back. “Hello Ellie,” she said in her grandmotherly voice, “sorry I didn’t call you back sooner but I’ve been working on the gun. I know who bought the gun in Germany, a Mr. L. VanHausen. Anyway I crossed that name with immigration records. And he did come here. So right now I am trying to track the gun here in the states. I’m still waiting for some phone calls. Anywho, tell me about Shelly Brown.”
“There isn’t much to say. Only child, our mothers were friends and worked together. She’s coming over Thursday.”
It sounded like she was taking notes. I heard her ruffle some papers, “I’d like to be there.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t worry, deary. Tell her I am your husband’s auntie and I surprised you with a visit so I could see Anna.”
“Hopefully she buys it.” I told her.
“Look some old people are eccentric. Make her believe. You need her to open up to you. Hey someone’s on the other line. Ta ta,” she said and hung up the phone.
What a weird bird but she done more than the police. I thought Germany had no record on the gun but who knows maybe the police didn’t know what to do. Detective Grady probably meant there was no criminal record on the gun. To me, it didn’t matter who solved the murder just as long as the person responsible was held accountable.
On Thursday morning, Elsa arrived bright and early. Oddly, Anna ran to her and gave her a hug.
“Hello all. How are you, Ellie?” she asked.
“Fine and you?”
“Great. I’m manic sometimes when I’m working on a case. It’s like a drug to me.”
“So any news?”
“After our little lunch today, I’m driving to Maine. I found a descendant of Ludwig VanHausen and he said he owned a Lugar. So I’m going up to talk to him and show him the gun,” she rapidly said.
“The gun?”
“Oh yes. Bob is loaning it to me. It’s against the rules because I‘m only supposed to show pictures. But you know; he wants this case solved too.” She chatted on like someone who had three pots of coffee.
Promptly at 11:30, Shelly arrived with a tub of ice cream. She saw Elsa. “Oh, I didn’t know you had company,” Shelly said.
“Oh no, Shelly. This is John’s great aunt Elsa. She just showed up unexpectedly. Stay.”
“Hello there, Shelly. Woke up this morning and thought to myself what a wonderful day for a drive. And next thing I knew I was here,” Elsa babbled.
I led Shelly into the kitchen making a crazy gesture about Elsa. She laughed. Out of the corner of my eye, Elsa nodded with a little smirk.
We had some sandwiches and ice cream for dessert. Afterwards, Elsa took Anna into the other room. I offered Shelly some coffee and she accepted.
“So how’s your mom?” I asked casually to break the ice.
“She died. Five years ago.”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay. You know. She died in her sleep. She had some insurance so I quit school and bought the Tastee-Freeze and started a new life.”
“It’s hard to lose your mother. There is not a day that I don’t think of my mom. Speaking of my mom, I was poking around the attic and I found a box of money. Weird isn’t it?”
Shelly’s face dropped and looked sad. “What’s wrong, Shelly? It looks like you seen a ghost,” I said.
“I don’t know and I don’t want to talk about it.”
I pushed, “You knew about the box of money. Is it your mother’s?”
She leapt to her feet, “I forgot I have to meet with the sign painter. Thanks for lunch.” Then she ran out the door.
Elsa came into the kitchen. I looked at her and said, “She knows something. When I talked about the money she got all funny like. She knew about it all these years.”
“Mmhhmm. I think so too. Ellie, you gotta keep trying on her, we need her information. May I ask what you were doing when Shelly and her mother came over?” she asked.
“I was 13. I spent a lot of time with Jenny and friends. Shelly would have been 8, old enough to know about things going on.”
“Well that sounds perfectly normal. Okay Ellie, I’m going to Maine. I’ll be back Sunday to fill you in.”
“Thanks, Elsa for all your help. I really appreciate it. Have a safe drive.”
“Your welcome. Bye.” I heard the front door close.
While Anna napped, I sat and tried remembering any detail in 1981, especially right around my mother’s death. Nothing came to mind. That summer I had my first “boyfriend.” Well we spent a lot of time together in a group with our friends. But we held hands and even made out a couple of times. His name was Terrance Boyle. I was just a teenager.
Now I had hope. Elsa had promising leads and I had Shelly Brown, who held the key to breaking this mystery. If she would just talk, my mother can finally be at rest.
How was I going to get her to talk about anything but the Tastee-Freeze? Since her mom was dead maybe I’d play the old sympathy card. I just had to get her to tell me what she knows. I asked Jenny to find out where Shelly lived. I waited until Saturday night after the Tastee-Freeze closed and went over.
She answered the door and I could tell by the look on her face, I was the last person she wanted to see.
“Hi Shelly, can we talk?”
“I know what you want to talk about and I don’t want to. Sorry.” She started to close the door, I stopped her.
“Please Shelly. Look you remember Aunt Elsa, well she’s a PI and she’s helping me with my mother’s murder case.”
“Okay fine. Why do you want to talk to me?”
“Can we talk inside?”
She let me in and I filled her in with what was going on. “So you see Shelly, you can help us. Tell me about the money. I’m sure it’s connected to Mom’s death. Please, please Shelly.”
Shelly sat in the chair, tears streamed down her face.
“Alright, my dad used to hit us. Well mom more than me. Your mom wanted to help us go away from him. The times we’d come over to your house, our mom’s would make plans. Dad didn’t know about some of her tip money. We were ready to leave the night your mom was killed. We were supposed to come over the next day and your mom was to take us to the bus station. But your mom was killed. Then out of the blue Dad says we’re moving. He rented a truck, packed our stuff and moved to Jersey; where we lived with my uncle and his family until we got our own place.”
I knew what I had to ask next, “Shelly, do you think your dad found out and then killed my mom?”
She started to sob, “I don’t know Ellie. Mom maybe thought so. She told me before she died. We were so scared of Dad, so very scared.”
I went to her and hugged her hard, “Thank you Shelly.” She sobbed into my shoulder.
After she calmed down I told her she was safe now. I knew deep down inside Peter Brown murdered my mother.
On Sunday, I tried calling Detective Grady; he wasn’t in so I left a message. Awhile later, someone knocked on the door and burst in. It was Elsa. John was startled by her.
“Ellie, great news! Can we talk?” We went to the deck.
“Okay I went to Maine and met with Jeff VanHausen. His grandfather was Ludwig VanHausen. Anywho, when his grandfather died, Jeff inherited some guns; one of them being a Lugar. I showed him the gun and he id’d it as his.”
“So what happened?” I couldn’t wait for her to finish, so I could tell her my information.
“He took the gun to Vietnam and he lost in a poker game to his buddy Peter Brown. Peter Brown had the gun.”
I interjected and told her Shelly’s story.
“It makes sense now. We’ve got to get a hold of Bob,” Elsa said.
“I left a message for at the station. He hasn’t called back,” I told her.
“Try again. This is too important.”
I did call again and again. Finally, after the third try, he called back.
“Ellie, what’s so important?” he asked gruffly. I handed the phone to Elsa. I heard Elsa tell him everything. She got off the phone.
“He thinks it’s enough to arrest Peter Brown. He’ll call back when the arrest has been made.” I smiled, “Well call me later, Ellie. I’m going to the hotel for some rest.”
After 17 years, something was finally going to happen. I was ecstatic. With all this evidence, there was no doubt in my mind Peter Brown would spend the rest of his life in jail. I called Jenny and invited her and her family over for supper.
Joe, Jenny, and John were just as happy about the impending arrest.
“My father and Peter were friends,” Joe said, “he always seemed nice. I just can’t believe he is a killer.”
“Well you know, Joe people have two different faces sometimes,” I said.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
About 11:30 Bob Grady called, “Hello Ellie, I hope I didn’t wake you. Mr. Brown has been arrested. I’m here in Waterboro to question him. I just thought you’d like to know.”
“Thanks Detective Grady. Thanks a lot.”
Days dragged on until Peter Brown was extradited back to Riverdale for his trial. He never confessed or answered any question. He got a lawyer as soon as he was arrested.
Two weeks, after Peter Brown was arrested he had a preliminary hearing. He pled not guilty. The judge felt there was enough evidence for a trial. Brown was denied bail.
It was September when the trial started. Dad met me at the courthouse. The courtroom was packed with video cameras and reporters. The DA showed us to seats in the front. A reporter I knew from the Post waved and I waved back.
After opening statements, the prosecution presented its case. He called Elsa to discuss her investigation. He called Jeff VanHausen to id the gun. He called Shelly to talk about the abuse and their plan for freedom. He called expert forensic witnesses and psychologists.
Two days later the defense presented its case. He called up some character references on behalf of Brown. He called his own experts. But the one person he did not call to the witness stand was Peter Brown. I was hoping the jury would think the same thing as I was what was Peter Brown afraid of? Why didn’t he take the stand? Guilty. Guilty of something. Yeah murder.
The following Monday after the trial started, the lawyers gave their closing arguments. The DA restated the facts of the case and pointed out Peter Brown did not take the stand. Brown’s lawyer played the wounded vet story. But I felt everyone knew his lawyer was grasping at air. The jury deliberated. And we waited.
About 5:00, the jury had a verdict. My heart thudded. What if there was reasonable doubt, he would be found not guilty. What then? I was nervous as hell. We rose to our feet and the judge entered. The bailiff handed him the verdict. The judge nodded his and the verdict went back to the foreman.
“Have the members of the jury reached a verdict?” asked the judge.
“Yes, your honor.”
“What say you?”
“For the state of Pennsylvania versus Peter M. Brown on one count of first degree murder, we the jury finds the defendant guilty as charged.”