Bearly Hidden: A Brain Teaser Mystery

Bearly

Hidden

A Brain Teaser Mystery

Phyllis Eickelberg

Bearly Hidden

A Brain Teaser Mystery

Copyright © 2011 Phyllis Eickelberg

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ISBN: 978-1-4582-0007-5 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4582-0008-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4582-0009-9 (hc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011911791

Abbott Press rev. date: 10/13/2011

Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

To my mother, a victim of Oregon’s 1996 floods

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

The author wishes to express a special debt of gratitude to her husband Jim, who has been patient and helpful throughout the birth of this story.

Thanks, too, to proofreaders and consultants Anne Chaimov, Rosemary Cunningham, Peter Saunders, Ben Wolcott, Carol Berning, Tandy Tillinghast, Lezli Weeden, Joanne Kersey, Susan Pachuta, Stacy Mellem, Katie Cooper, Janice Fisher, Henrietta Wiley, Donna Laizure, Carolyn Hegstad, Erna Medland, Jacki Ford, and Michelle and Steven Holmquist. Thanks also to Gloria Fulks, a caring woman who refurbishes used toys for charities, to Myles Webster and Tyshawn Webster-Piper for hints on young men’s characters, and to Carter Skip Hamilton for his aid in taming my computer so it would follow directions.

A discarded teddy bear, a missing fortune, and murder

For years Mattie Samuelson claimed someone tried to kill her. Now that she’s dead the question is: has the killer finally been successful?

Mattie’s daughter will search for the answer and once she finds it, life will never be the same.

Bearly Hidden is a story of intrigue, foul play and a stuffed toy that lures a mom to a deadly encounter. As her daughter Heather moves closer to solving the puzzles her mother left behind, she finds dead bodies and a killer intent on stealing a treasure. Is there a connection between the deaths and the cuddly toy?

Let’s Get Started!

Discover what’s about to happen.

CHAPTER 1

The dark figure tiptoed toward the door standing between him and escape. His satisfied smile pushed at puffy lips hidden by an over-sized mustache. He paused, one hand on the doorknob, the other stuffing rubber gloves into a coat pocket as he surveyed the room. The antique bed that had claimed his attention for the last half hour rested against one wall, at a distance from a scruffy toy which lay well out of her reach. But of course everything was now out of her reach. With that thought reassuring him, he slipped from the room, ready to pretend dismay when someone else discovered the dead body.

###

What Just Happened?

E,D,M,R,R,U

Using the above letters only once, add one to each word below, forming a new word. The addition may be at the beginning, end, or within the word. Place the applicable letter on the line below the boxes to form one 6-letter answer to the title question.

M__________________________

###

The young woman with too many bundles sighed as the old elevator quivered to a stop on the second floor of Silver Pines. She waited for a muffled groan signaling the doors were opening, and when she heard it, she bolted through the opening and sprinted down the deserted hall.

At her mother’s door Heather Samuelson shifted her heavy load and with a free hand rapped loudly. She needed to hurry home and attack the work piled on her desk. Her new company needed a responsible president and that was her role. She raised her hand, ready to knock a second time.

She’s dead, you know!

The heavy packages nearly leaped from Heather’s grasp.

Glancing over one shoulder she saw a frail old woman with short white hair and graying skin. Tucked in a pocket over the woman’s left breast was a pair of stained dentures.

I beg your pardon? Heather faced the woman, aware of an uneasy feeling inching up her back. As often as she had visited her mother over the eight years Mattie had lived here, this woman had never before materialized. Where had she come from today? Could I help you?

With eyes nearly hidden by a collection of wrinkles, the old woman stared into space.

Giving way to the curiosity that often got her into trouble, Heather asked, Who’s dead?

Pointy elbows began bobbing at the woman’s side as she turned, shuffling toward the antique elevator.

For a moment Heather watched the retreat, puzzling over the woman’s strange behavior. Finally Heather turned back to her mother’s door. Come on, Mom, she whispered, knocking again, willing the locked door to spring open. When nothing changed, she lowered the heavy bags to the floor and searched for her own key.

Hi, Mom, she called as she entered the apartment, kicking the door shut behind her. She paused. Mom? I’ve got your supplies. Where do you want them?

The silence was eerie. Only an hour earlier Mattie had promised to stay indoors. Had she gone? Where could she be? Mattie Samuelson never broke promises. Heather moved to the sofa and lowered the heavy bags. Rubbing her tired arms she searched for a note explaining Mattie’s absence.

When none was found, Heather slumped in a chair to wait. Through the dusty window beside her, she watched February’s fat raindrops puddle at the edge of the highway below. The downpour currently flooding Lewisburg and Oregon’s entire Willamette Valley was following five days of sub-freezing temperatures that had frozen the ground. Today’s wet torrent had no place to go, except to cause the Valley to become a mess of flooding rivers and standing water. Northbound sections of the Interstate connecting Portland to points south had already closed. Traffic heading north, now diverted to Highway 99 West, filled that narrow two-lane road like too much cholesterol in a small artery.

When the telephone beside Heather rang, she grabbed it. Thank goodness, she thought. Hi, Mom. Nice timing. I just got here.

Mrs. Samuelson? The raspy voice was a man who sounded tired. This is Sergeant Miller of the Madison County Sheriff’s Office. I’m sorry to be slow returning your call, but today’s weather has really kept us hopping.

Heather drew in a sharp breath.

Mrs. Samuelson?

Heather cleared her throat. Sergeant Miller, I’m Mrs. Samuelson’s daughter, Heather. Mom seems to have stepped out for a few minutes.

I’m sorry to hear that. I hoped she could change her appointment and come in now.

Heather remembered times when her mother had been involved in what she thought of as helping the police solve crimes. Was this another such occasion? Heather inched forward in her chair. Mom made an appointment with you? For today?

The sergeant sighed. When Mrs. Samuelson returns, have her give me a call. We’re anxious to learn more about the murder she mentioned.

The room suddenly felt cold. Someone’s been murdered? That didn’t make any sense to Heather, but neither did the buzzing receiver that told her Sergeant Miller had hung up.

###

Where Has Mattie Gone?

To answer this question, follow directions for a three-word answer.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Start with letter X:

Move one space north.

Move two spaces north and two spaces west.

Move two spaces east.

Move one space west.

Move three spaces west and three spaces south.

Move three spaces north.

Move two spaces east and two spaces south.

Move one space east.

Move two spaces north and two spaces west

Move one space west and one space south

Move four spaces east.

Move two spaces south and one space west.

Move one space west.

Move two spaces west and one space north

Move one space east.

Move one space north.

Move one space east.

Move one space east.

Move two spaces west and two spaces south.

###

An hour ago Mattie Samuelson had been huddled at her work table, laboring over a bow tie on a teddy bear she was repairing for charity.

Stop lecturing me, she scolded, brushing a lock of white hair from cataract-clouded eyes. Look at this. Mattie removed the bear’s dark glasses and adjusted her own spectacles. Holding the twelve-inch toy close to the lamp beside her, she said, Don’t you love it? His eyes sparkle.

No changing the subject, Mom, Heather said. Driving anywhere today is dangerous, even if you had perfect eyesight.

Mattie pouted. I’m not trying to change the subject. I was pointing out that most teddy bears have opaque eyes. This one is different. A new blue hat adorned the bear’s head. I started one of your favorite jigsaw puzzles. Mattie nodded at a nearby card table with a jumble of scattered puzzle pieces. Have a seat and help me put it together. When I finish here we can have a cup of tea. The older woman struggled with the uneven loops of the bear’s tie. Her fingers, knotted by arthritis, made delicate movements difficult. You might say something nice about the number of toys I’ve repaired. I only got the box yesterday.

Heather was looking longingly at the jigsaw puzzle taking shape. Solving puzzles of any kind was one of her weaknesses. There were, of course, others, but her need to find answers outweighed everything else. She glanced at the cardboard boxes by her mother’s feet. One held toys waiting for repair; the other had toys already restored.

Okay! You win. Good job. Nice going. You’ve made great progress. Now then! Promise you’ll stay home today.

This is Oregon, Heather. A cloudburst or two isn’t a problem. Mattie frowned. The toy’s bow tie seemed to be tangled around her knobby fingers.

It isn’t so much the rain that’s the problem, Heather explained. It’s the frozen ground. The rain can’t penetrate. It’s puddling and pooling and flooding out there. We haven’t had a February like this in decades. Promise me you’ll stay home today?

I can’t promise that. I already told my neighbors I’d get them some supplies today. Stop being pushy, Heather. This is your mother you’re talking to.

Stay put, Mom. I’ll get the supplies.

Mattie sighed. Oh, all right. I’ll give you the list and I’ll keep working on refurbishing toys. Cane in hand, Mattie moved awkwardly toward her desk to retrieve her purse. Everything of real value and importance is in this desk, Heather. Mattie smiled, withdrawing a crumpled shopping list from her handbag.

"I know, Mom. You’ve reminded Rachel and Sally and me of that more than once. ‘In case of fire, save the desk.’" Heather tucked her mother’s list carefully in her pocket as Mattie shuffled back to her work table.

I rely on you too much. I need to stop doing that. Samuelson Design is still a new business. I can’t keep taking up the president’s time.

It’s not a problem, Mom, really! Heather checked her watch and took a step toward the door. I’ve got to run. Your daughters want you to stay home today. Give me your word.

Okay, I promise, Mattie said, giving her pledge reluctantly. But, she paused, her eyes twinkling with mischief, if something comes up that’s a matter of life or death, then the promise is off and I’m out of here.

Heather laughed. Stay home. No more pretending you’re Miss Marple.

I’ll stay home unless, Mattie let the sentence trail off as she shook a warning finger at her daughter.

"Okay, unless it’s a matter of life or death and, Heather emphasized a word of her own, moving to her mother’s side as she spoke, assuming nine-one-one can’t handle it. Seeing her mother nod in agreement, Heather kissed Mattie’s soft cheek and gave her a parting hug. Stay safe, Mom. Weather like this invites accidents and you’ve already had one of those." She was referring to a fall Mattie had taken years earlier. Because of it, she now resided in an assisted living facility with people much older than herself.

That fall wasn’t my fault, Mattie said, not for the first time. Someone pushed me. They tried to kill me.

Heather kissed her mom once more and tried to smile. She failed. Whatever happened that January day eight years earlier was never clear to anyone except Mattie. There had been no witnesses and nothing that indicated anything other than carelessness on Mattie’s part.

Heather waved as she left, pursued by unsettling memories.

It wasn’t the reminder of her mother’s fall that often haunted her; it was what had happened while her mother lay in the hospital recovering. Charlie Samuelson had spent a day or two at his wife’s bedside, then left to take part in a search and rescue mission on Mt. Hood’s south slope. At that time blizzard conditions and fog near the ninety-four hundred-foot level had kept the search and rescue team crawling on their hands and knees, unable to see at a distance. A chilling cry had alerted the team to trouble and when they looked back, only Charlie’s bright backpack could be seen at the bottom of a deep, narrow crevasse. The mountain patrol returned with the lost hikers, but they were unable to retrieve Charlie’s body.

###

What Have We Witnessed So Far?

A,A,G.D,D,E,E,H,N,R,T

Using the above letters only once, add one to each word below, forming a new word. The addition may be at the beginning, end, or within the word. Place the applicable letter on the line below the boxes to form one 5-letter word and one 6-letter word answer to the title question.

D

CHAPTER 2

Heather thumped another piece into her mom’s jigsaw puzzle and looked at her watch. An hour had passed since she’d arrived and all she had been able to determine was that none of her mother’s neighbors had seen the missing woman or her car, leave the premises.

Heather picked up the phone and dialed.

Lewisburg Police Department, said the voice in the receiver.

I need to talk to Detective Sally Samuelson, Heather said, beginning to pace as she waited.

Samuelson! The response was crisp.

Sally, it’s Heather. I’m at Mom’s. She promised she’d stay indoors today, but she’s gone. So is her car.

Damn! Sally muttered. I thought you were going to warn her about floods and travel problems today. We’ve had a ton of accidents. The whole department is going to have to work extra hours tonight.

I did warn her and she promised to stay home. But she’s not here. It’s getting dark out and I’m worried.

Hold on a minute, Heather. I’m being paged. In a moment Sally came back on the line. That was Harrison County, she reported. There’s been an accident. Call Rachel. I’ll meet you both at Good Samaritan Hospital.

Repeat that, Heather shouted, trying to make sense of what Sally had said. A cold knot gripped Heather’s belly. She felt blood draining from her face. The receiver in her hand stubbornly buzzed its reply.

###

Rachel Bennett arrived at Good Samaritan Hospital’s crowded parking lot before her sisters. She had left her ten-year-old twins alone—something she rarely did. Since this was an emergency, the boys had promised to be on their best behavior, but Rachel couldn’t be sure their definition of best behavior matched hers. As she prepared to head for the Emergency Room Heather and Sally arrived and the three sisters ran into the hospital together.

At the reception desk a tired-looking clerk with braided hair finished completing a form for a pregnant woman cradling a small child. When the pregnant woman eased her swollen body from the reception desk, the sisters crowded forward.

In her calmest voice Heather said, We’re Matilda Samuelson’s daughters. You have our mom. She studied the clerk’s serious face and tried unsuccessfully to smile.

The clerk arched an eyebrow and shuffled papers as she scanned them. Matilda Samuelson? I don’t think so.

She may be listed as Mattie, offered Sally.

No-o. The clerk looked up. I don’t have any Samuelson. Perhaps you should be inquiring at Shepherd of the Valley. The entire county has been flooded with accidents.

I don’t understand. Heather’s calm demeanor evaporated as panic took over.

Sally said, The Harrison County Sheriff’s Office called in a report of an accident. Mom’s supposed to be here with her neighbor, Julius Connors.

Connors? The receptionist’s glance sharpened. She looked once more at her documents. Take a seat over there. She pointed to a small room in the corner of the larger waiting area. Through its glass walls could be seen chairs, a sofa, and a coffee pot. You’ll be more comfortable in there. The receptionist picked up her phone and dialed. Feel free to help yourself to coffee. Someone will be with you shortly.

I don’t understand, Rachel said as they moved to the appointed area. Why isn’t Mom listed?

Heather puzzled over the turn of events. At least we aren’t on our way to another hospital. She helped herself to coffee. Anyone else want any?

I’ve had all the caffeine my system can take, Sally replied, taking a seat. She knew the hospital’s idea of good coffee was worse than the police department’s version.

I can’t sit still, Heather acknowledged, beginning to pace. I can’t decide whether to be worried about Mom or angry because she didn’t stay home when she promised she would. She took a sip of coffee and wrinkled her nose. This stuff is lethal.

It’s not going to help you relax either. Sally reached out to rescue the cup from her sister’s trembling hand.

Rachel said, You actually got Mom to promise she’d stay home?

Heather nodded. She agreed to stay indoors unless something came up that was a matter of life or death. I can’t understand why she went out after she promised.

Damn it, Heather. You know Mom better than that, Sally scolded. Facing a little danger battling floods would be right up her alley. Our mom lives for adventure!

A smile flickered across Rachel’s worried face as she thought of how her sons resembled their curious grandmother in that respect. Maybe Mom thought a little sightseeing was a matter of life or death.

Heather sighed. She promised. And you know Mom doesn’t break promises.

Sally listened to her sisters as she tried to pretend her insides weren’t churning. As a member of the police department she had experience her sisters didn’t have, and she was picking up clues they weren’t aware of. I’ve got to tell you, she finally admitted, lacing nervous fingers through her damp hair. I don’t like the looks of this. Being separated from everyone usually indicates bad news.

Don’t even consider that. Mom will be fine. Heather paced the length of the room twice before adding, She always comes out of her escapades better than most. Remember when she lost her purse in a Portland mall? That touring ballerina returned it intact with free tickets to a performance. I think the reason the receptionist doesn’t have any record of Mom, is because she has already been discharged.

That sounds reasonable, Rachel agreed, beginning to shred a tissue that had appeared in her hands. If Julius was in an accident, Mom would help him. She’d consider that a matter of life or death.

You’re forgetting that Julius doesn’t drive any more. Sally looked at her sisters. They obviously weren’t prepared for what she viewed as inevitable. Julius is only in a car when Mom takes him with her. She’s the only one at Silver Pines who still drives, but until she’s had her cataract surgery, she shouldn’t be behind the wheel evenings.

Through the room’s glass walls the sisters saw a man in hospital greens enter the waiting area. He spoke to the receptionist, then to several of those waiting for doctors. After a few minutes he turned and slowly made his way to the room where the sisters waited.

Good evening, he said, closing the door behind him. He reached across to lower, then close the Venetian blinds. Those bright lights hurt my eyes, he explained as the harsh lights from the waiting room were shut out.

None of his actions or their implications escaped Sally. She knew the doctor was distancing himself from them and she was pretty sure she knew the reason.

Now then! he said. I’m Dr. Wilson. Who have we here? And please, let’s all sit. He settled in a straight-backed chair, studying the worried faces in front of him.

Heather introduced herself and her sisters as she and Rachel perched at the edge of chairs near the doctor. Rachel, sitting closest to Sally, reached out to hold her sister’s hand.

Tell us about our mom. Heather wanted the hollow place in the middle of her stomach to go away.

Ah yes, replied the doctor. He leaned forward as if speaking confidentially. Your mom had a passenger with her—a Mr. Julius Connors. Do you know him? He’s quite confused.

Heather said, He lives in the apartment next door to Mom at Silver Pines. What’s he confused about?

He doesn’t seem to know why he was driving around with your mother.

Does he have a concussion? asked Sally.

No! No concussion. Just a small cut on one finger. What I’m concerned about is the possibility of hypothermia. He’s eighty-eight. At that age hypothermia could be fatal.

Hypothermia? Heather exchanged puzzled looks with her sisters, trying to understand what had happened. Whatever it was seemed to be taking on the jagged, senseless shape of a nightmare.

What about our Mom? Rachel asked.

You might as well stop stalling, charged Sally.