The Paper Detective. E. Joan Sims

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The Paper Detective - E. Joan Sims


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Atkins affected a casual slouch. Some said it was from his early days in the Marines, when his height made him a bigger target. Mr. Bert Atkins looked lean and mean, I realized with a delighted shiver—lean and mean like Leonard.

      Atkins had been shot in the hip by a sixteen-year-old bank robber wanna-be almost a year ago. The last time I saw him was two months before that, when he came to us in search of answers about the death of a young woman in his jurisdiction. Cassie met his stepson that night, and they started dating shortly afterwards. Danny was serious. Cass was not. She had turned down at least two of his marriage proposals and dated several other young men in the meantime. Danny said he would keep on trying. I knew he didn’t stand a chance. I warned Cassie against giving him false hope, but she assured me they could remain friends. I think Bert was angry with us because of Cassie’s rejection of his stepson. He had refused several invitations to dinner and was just short of abrupt when either Mother or I called.

      Somehow I had to get past that gruff and angry façade. I had to convince Bert Atkins to be Leonard Paisley just for the interview. I had my work cut out for me. It wouldn’t be easy. Nothing about Bert Atkins was easy.

      When Cassie left, Aggie transferred her affection to me. The rough translation of that was: she hopped into my lap so I could keep her warm. Aggie hated cold weather. She especially hated snow. It stuck in between her paw pads and froze her toes. She was even more nasty-tempered in the winter, but she did treat me with a smidge more respect. I had told her when nobody was looking that if I kicked her lily-white ass out into the white snow no one would ever find her.

      When Mother finished watching her one television show of the week and came to join me, I told her about Pam’s call and asked her what she thought about my idea.

      “I’ve always thought you and Bert Atkins should get to know each other better. This is a perfectly lovely excuse to call on him, dear.”

      “I’m not looking for romance, Mother. This is serious business. Pam won’t let me off the hook this time. She’s tried to get me to produce a ‘Leonard’ before, but I’ve always managed to weasel out of it. Pen and Ink is too important a magazine to ignore.”

      “Then let her find someone in New York, dear. Leonard was her idea. There must be hundreds of actors up there who would be glad to do the job.”

      I had to smile. Mother thought less of New York than she thought of Siberia. “Up there” to her was as bad as saying “in hell” for anyone else.

      “Pam knows me better than that. She knows I would scream like a stuck pig if she picked somebody without me. I have to give her credit for that. She’s letting me call the shots on this one.”

      I pushed Aggie gingerly off my lap and went to look out at the cold winter night. The bare branches of the tall trees swayed and clacked against each other in the freezing wind. The top layer of snow swirled from ground to air and back again. I wondered if the owls and squirrels and other little creatures had a warm place to hide from old Jack Frost. And I wondered what in the world I was doing writing murder mysteries when I still had the mind-set for children’s books.

      Mother went to bed, but I waited up for Cassie. She came home at twelve on the dot. Danny walked her to the library door and when he leaned over to kiss her he saw me pretending to sleep on the sofa. He straightened up quickly and hugged her instead. Cassie tapped lightly on the door as he was leaving. I stretched and yawned like I had just awakened, then pretended to lurch sleepily over to let her inside.

      “Is that why you were asking about community theater, Mom? Are you thinking of taking up acting? Because if you are, forget it. You didn’t fool either one of us.”

      She took off her long woolen cape and sat down on the hearth to warm herself by the fire. “But thanks, anyway,” she sighed. “The last thing in the world I wanted was that kiss. I think you’re right. I’d better stop seeing Danny once and for all. I really hate it because he’s so much fun.” She sighed again. “I love being with him. I just don’t love him.”

      She looked at me for a response. I had none. Long ago I discovered it was best to stay out of my daughter’s love life. I did have to ask one thing, though.

      “Would it be a problem for you if I asked Danny’s stepfather to impersonate Leonard for an interview with a very important magazine? I won’t do it if it is.”

      “Don’t be silly, Mom. It’s not a problem for me. They haven’t seen each other much since Bert retired. Danny probably won’t even know.”

      “I thought Danny lived at home.”

      “He does. But Bert moved out as soon as he recovered from his hip surgery. He’s living way out by Jackson Lake in a cabin he built several years ago. Really roughing it from what Danny says. He doesn’t have electricity, or running water, or even a telephone.”

      “Did Danny and Bert have an argument? They seemed so close.”

      “I honestly don’t know, Mom. Danny doesn’t say much about his personal life.”

      She looked up with a sad little smile.

      “That’s one thing about him that bothers me. You know how I feel about family.”

      “Well, if you really don’t mind, I think I’ll try to get in touch with Ex-Chief Atkins. He would make the most perfect Leonard. Don’t you think, so?”

      “If you say so, Mom,” she sighed as she gazed sadly into the flames. “Although I really don’t think there is a perfect man anywhere.”

      I smiled. This was an old discussion and I could comment.

      “Remember what we said before? ‘Perfect’ would be boring!”

      Chapter Three

      The next day dawned beautiful and clear and even colder. The sun sparkled brightly on the snow, but wasn’t nearly warm enough to melt it. I called Danny at the Hall County Courthouse and asked him the best way to get in touch with his stepfather.

      “You have a four wheel drive, don’t you, Mrs. DeLeon?”

      “Yes, a Jeep Cherokee.”

      “Dad’s cabin is about twenty-five miles out the Sandlick Road. He’s on the far side of Jackson Lake. It’s a rough ride in the best weather. I don’t know if I would recommend you trying to get out there in this snow.” He laughed. “But if half the things Cassie says are true, that won’t make a bit of difference to you. Just be sure to take your cellular phone, plenty of blankets, and a couple of flashlights. I’ll be listening out in case you have any trouble. Cassie has my private phone number. Call me direct if you have a problem.”

      “Thanks, Danny, I really appreciate it. Is your stepdad all right? I mean, was the surgery on his hip successful?”

      “Yep.”

      Try as I might, that was the only information I could get out of Danny regarding the personal health and well being of Bert Atkins. I hung up the phone feeling as if I were going out in the snow looking for a grizzly bear.

      “Come on, Cassie,” I pleaded. “It’ll be fun! Just you and me and Watson.”

      “I don’t think a sports utility vehicle named after Sherlock Holmes’s sidekick qualifies as a person, Mom.”

      “Okay, then we’ll ask your grandmother.”

      “I don’t care if you ask the Atlanta Braves—I’m not going. This afternoon I’m telling Danny we can’t see each other any­more, and ‘any­more’ means starting right now and includes his whole family.”

      “Okay,” I grumped. “I understand. And you’re right. Maybe Mother will go.”

      She looked at me with raised eyebrows.

      “I don’t quite see Gran in a mountain cabin. Now if Christian Dior’s latest was something in a red plaid flannel and denim, you might have a chance at convincing her.”

      Cassie was


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