The Murder of Leo Young

By Janice L. Davis

Agatha Larsen is on the detective trail once again. The widow of Leo Young brings Agatha evidence that she is sure proves her husband was murdered fifteen years ago in spite of the fact it was deemed an accident. The trail might be cold, but Agatha and her granddaughters, Mazie and Samara, are hot on it. Because she is questioning so many folks, dark secrets begin to unfold. Threatening notes are sent as a warning there could be another murder unless the investigating stops

• Language: English
• Publisher: Janice L. Davis
• Release date: Oct 21, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301243594

Janice L. Davis

Janice L. Davis lives in Florence, AL with her husband, Roy. She wrote a humor column for the local magazine, The Shoals Woman, for three years. Janice is in the Shoals Dulcimer and Folk Music Assn, and plays the dulcimer. She is a proud grandmother of two adorable little girls.

Book preview

Chapter One

February 17, 1932

Hey, Leo, can you hear me?

Leo Young recognized the voice of the person standing next to his bed even though he couldn’t see him through the heavy fog-like blurriness that had stricken his vision. The hammering in his head brought excruciating pain, and he yearned to fall asleep. Barely able to speak, he muttered, You…..?

Yes, Leo, it’s me. Just rest and don’t try to talk. You had quite a fall at the Valentine Ball the other night, and I know you are a bit uncomfortable and in a lot of pain. So let me put this pillow where it will do you the most good.

When the pillow slammed down upon his face with such fierceness, Leo’s weakened condition prohibited him from combatting against his assailant. W-w-hy? he gasped, and gave up his last breath, never to hear the answer.

What’s that? Oh, of course, you can’t speak any longer. Too bad. But I think you knew why. You had plenty of warning, after all. So you did have this coming to you.

The murderer felt rejuvenated, relieved and grateful for the opportunity that had presented itself at long last. No one would ever suspect that Leo didn’t die as a result of his plummet down the long staircase at the Elkton Inn. He placed the pillow, that had become a murder weapon, under Leo’s head. Everything looked good. Leaving the house through the backdoor, he surveyed the area to make certain no one was out and about, and then proceeded with an air of jauntiness a couple of blocks away to his vehicle.

Chapter 2

Fifteen years later, Thursday, January 30, 1947

Alex, is everything ready for the sled dog race? Sheriff James Lange asked the lawyer while presiding over the town council meeting. This thing starts next Friday, ‘eh.

Everyone and everything is accounted for. The judges know their stations, and accommodations are reserved for the mushers. All but the last two trapper shacks are completed, but they’ll be finished in plenty of time for the race.

Good. The six foot tall, grey-haired sheriff rubbed his forefinger across his full mustache, and added, Is there any other thing we need to discuss about this subject? Since this is the first sled dog race we’ve had since before the war, we want it to go well. No glitches. No unresolved problems.

I’m still waiting for the printer to finish the maps of the route the mushers will be taking. Seems they are a bit slow, but they assure me we will have them by tomorrow, Talissa King affirmed.

Okay, let me know if you don’t have them by then.

Agatha Larsen, Alexander Larsen, Reverend Albert Clark, Talissa King and Karen Frank, were seated around the large cherry wood table. The fact that the late Mayor Max Mueller would never again be leading the town council meetings or serving the community still felt strange and foreboding. Since his murder last month, the sheriff filled in whenever needed, and he looked forward to the election of the new mayor that would be taking place on February 25th. Of course, there was only one name on the ballot, that of the pharmacist, Tim Frank, which made it seem a bit ridiculous to have an election, but that’s the democratic way in which things are done.

If that’s all, I recommend we adjourn the meeting.

No, I’ve got some business, the Reverend Albert Clark declared. It doesn’t seem right to me that there is just one person running for mayor, so I nominate Agatha Larsen to run against Tim.

Me? the retired teacher beheld the smiling faces of each member, including Karen Frank, Tim’s wife. Her son, Alex, appeared especially elated at the idea of his mother running for mayor. I’m flattered, don’t you know, but I don’t think I’d be very good at it.

Of course you can do it, Mother. You’ve taught just about everyone in this town, and now that you’re retired you’ll have plenty of time to serve the community. And perhaps it’ll keep you out of trouble.

Plus you helped to solve the murders last month, hey, Karen chimed in. God forbid that we should have any more of that business, but if we do, you’ll be in a great position to work with James. Besides, it will do Tim some good to have a little competition.

Alex shook his head, as he reflected upon the dangerous exploits his mother and his daughters had chosen to be a part of during the Christmas carnival. The quiet town of Elkton, Wisconsin had never been through anything so sinister in the past. Dark secrets kept by the mayor and others had been revealed, bringing about a lack of trust, as well as suspicious minds amongst some of the townsfolk. He snapped out of his reveries when he heard his mother respond to Karen’s comments.

I must say, I just don’t know about this. Women mayors are rare in this country, and I’m not so sure that our menfolk are ready for a woman to step into Max’s shoes.

We don’t want you to step into his shoes, Talissa cut in. We need some new shoes around this town, and you will fit into them just fine.

Mother, the family and other folks will support you. Just say you’ll run.

Agatha certainly had the energy to keep up with such a position, and she knew everyone in town since she’d not only lived there all of her life, but also taught fourth grade for forty-two years. She rubbed her short salt and pepper naturally curly hair, peered through her wire rimmed glasses at the group of expectant folks and said, Oh, you’ve got me. I’ll do it, don’t you know.

While the council members all clapped, Agatha thought, Oh criminey, what have I done?

Chapter 3

8:30 p.m. Thursday, January 30, 1947

Leaning back in her comfortable old couch, Agatha strummed her Appalachian Mountain dulcimer as she often did when she desired to unwind. The notion of running for mayor of Elkton jammed her brainwaves, thinking of all that it must entail—not to mention if she won. It might be interesting to see how the men in town react to a woman contending for such an office, but the election, to be held in less than a month, didn’t afford her much time to campaign. The ringing of her doorbell intruded upon her contemplations before she could think more about it.

Agatha opened her door to see the plump, good-natured Ojibwe native, Ingrid Young, owner of the Superior Lake Café, who didn’t normally visit at that time of day. Oh, my dear Ingrid, this is a pleasant surprise, do come in. What can I do for you?

I hope you don’t mind, Agatha. I’ve had something on my mind for a long time, and I really need to talk to you. It just can’t wait another minute.

You do seem a bit nervous, dear. How about if I fix us each a nice cup of tea, and you can tell me all about it.

Settled at the kitchen table, after taking a sip of the hot amber liquid, Ingrid looked across at Agatha, and began to speak.

You did such a good job solving the murders last month that I wonder if you’d be so kind as to look into something for me. She took a deep breath, and extracted a large manila envelope from her handbag. Do you have some time to look into Leo’s death? I know it’s been fifteen years, but I’ve always had a gut feeling that he was……murdered.

Agatha’s jaw dropped, and her eyes widened. What? After all this time, dear?

It’s got to do with what is in this envelope. Ingrid poured the contents onto the table. "These notes were sent to Leo throughout the ten years of our marriage. They are nasty to say the least. I don’t know why I saved them, particularly after Leo died. He always