Chapter 12: Ninja Moves and the Nan

“C’mon, c’mon,” Jake chanted to himself while watching Pete and Eli roll around in the Rieses’ front yard.

Corky couldn’t enact his portion of the plan until Mrs. Riese came outside to stop his pair of fighting friends. Already, the fake fight between the two twelve-year-old boys had started to garner attention from nearby driveways and rummage sales. Jake cringed as Mr. Higgins yelled at them to stop while counting out change to a customer. Mentally willing Pete and Eli to move their brawl closer to the porch, Jake knew Mr. Higgins would intervene once he finished with the sale.

“Ooh! That punch looked real,” a voice evaluated from behind Jake.

“Wally, you’re supposed to be watching people,” the stocky detective reminded his friend. Without much notice, Wally Weaver had been the best last-minute help that Jake could muster while Phinn, Libby, and Corky left.

“I am. I’m baiting that little old lady with the big purse. She’s clearly casing your stuff before moving into shoplifting mode,” the class clown revealed, nudging his head in the direction of the suspected thief.

“What? That’s Mrs. Underlay. She’s got to be over eighty,” Jake pointed out.

“Kleptomania doesn’t clear up with age.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve been suspecting that woman since I was eight. I know she’s shoplifted from this sale every year. This time, I’m catching her,” Wally vowed about the sweet, little old lady. “Oh, damn. I think Eli just decided to respond with real kicks to Pete’s punches.”

Shaking his head, the detective couldn’t tell if Wally meant his accusations or if they were more of his practical jokes. Jake wouldn’t put it past his old friend to set him up for a humiliating confrontation with the elderly neighbor.

“Shit,” Jake cursed, watching as Mrs. Ackerly from across the street from the Higginses walked toward the middle of the driveway to tell the boys to knock it off. “Corky’s never going to have enough time to sneak inside, locate their computer, find any footage, and get back out.”

“Look at this bored housewife,” Wally alerted, drawing Jake’s attention away from the fight to the sidewalk in front of the Plouffes’ house on the corner behind them.

“That’s Shane’s mom,” Jake pointed out.

“Don’t I know it. Time to get a little payback for his stunt at Wedison Park through his MILFy mom,” Wally teased before raising his voice. “Mrs. Grogan, what a pleasant surprise. What are you looking for this fine morning? Maybe something made with hardwood?”

Jake rolled his eyes. I don’t have time for one of his jokes. It’s not like Wally is going to hook up with Shane’s mom. Oh, no!

Charlotte Annable, the local alderwoman and neighborhood busybody, had suddenly appeared from the direction of Mrs. Potts’s homemade accessory sale. Despite five homes sitting between her and the fight, Mrs. Annable’s loud voice carried far and clear. She ordered the boys to knock it off, right this instant.

Fortunately, Corky and Jake had insisted that Pete and Eli not stop until Mrs. Riese appeared. On the other hand, the chaperone for this stealth entry began to worry that the two combatants had lost sight of the fake portion of the fight.

“Stop that! Or I’m going to call your parents!” Charlotte warned.

Finally, Kathleen Riese exited from the side door off her driveway. Yet, Jake fretted that her appearance might have arrived far too late for the plan to work. Corky still needed to slip out from the Higginses’ backyard and through that same side door without being seen. However, Alderwoman Annable’s approach had her seconds away from being able to spot Corky sneaking into the house.

“Let them fight!” a gruff, loud voice called out.

Immediately, the meddling politician’s attention swung from the fight to the man who lived across the street from the Rieses. Seated on his lawnchair, Mr. Greene, the off-putting Vietnam veteran, waved away Mrs. Annable’s initial warning to stay out of this.

“Let them finish. They need to learn who’s tougher,” Mr. Greene declared.

“Peter, Elijah, stop right now. I’m warning you. I will call your parents,” Charlotte vowed, halting about ten feet away from the punching, kicking, and rolling duo.

“Their parents should be notified at once,” Kathleen Riese stated, horrified by the number of F-bombs flying from the fighters. “Children these days need a firmer hand. My Derrick never behaved in this manner.”

Jake rolled his eyes once again. This time over Derrick Riese, the twenty-five-year-old former next-door neighbor to Phinn, and the neighborhood paragon of purity according to his mother. Derrick was the worst tattletale ever. Good thing he went off to that tiny Christian college that his mom never stopped bragging about. That was around the same time that we started Busybody, Inc., Jake noted. Even then, Derrick’s return on school breaks often led to trouble.

An early sigh of relief came out of Jake’s next breath after he watched Corky slip through the side door. However, that led to the next issue: How to extend Mrs. Riese’s stay outside?

“Jacob! Are you going to stand there all day, or help?” Charlotte demanded

“Crap,” Jake mumbled, suddenly aware that he’d been standing in plain sight on the sidewalk ever since Wally walked over to comment on the fight. “Ugh, maybe we should let them finish. They have to be tiring.”

“Absolutely not!” Mrs. Annable responded, as Mr. Greene laughed boisterously and Mrs. Riese glared at the older teen.

“Dammit,” Jake muttered, moving over toward Corky’s friends. “Alright, you heard Mrs. Annable. Break it up now, and she won’t call your parents.”

“Correct!”

“No, bad children need to be punished,” Mrs. Riese insisted.

“C’mon, guys,” Jake said, kneeling to tap Pete, who currently had the upper hand while on top. Leaning over further, the chaperone whispered, ”Abort. We gotta abort this part.”

“See? They’ve stopped,” the friendly alderwoman said, happy that the boys listened to Jake.

“Look at what they did to our lawn! David works hard to maintain it.”

“Uh, it looks fine to me,” Jake remarked, helping Pete and Eli to their feet.

“What about Cork?” Pete whispered.

“He just went inside. We need to buy him more time,” Jake replied softly.

“Calm down, Kathy. Your front lawn looks impeccable as always,” Mrs. Annable noted.

“There are marks!”

“That happens. Mother Nature does worse,” Mr. Greene yelled over, causing his neighbor to fume further.

“It’s not like the boys pooped in your yard, Kathleen,” Mr. Higgins said, walking to the edge of his property.

However, his joke landed with a thud. Mrs. Riese spun around to face Jake.

“Don’t think we don’t know about your dog and our lawn,” the forty-nine-year-old woman stated.

Jake protested about Bandit’s bathroom habits and how they never let him take care of business in particular yards. He insisted that he never allowed the bulldog to use her grass.

“I’m talking about him!” Kathleen declared, emphasizing the last word while pointing at Phinn’s house.

“Oh, yeah, right,” Jake admitted, shrugging.

To his horror, the angry woman turned around to head inside.

“Now what caused you two to fight? You’re good friends,” Charlotte reminded, seeking to get to the bottom of the dispute.

Jake’s shrug continued as Pete and Eli glanced over at him. Mouthing that they needed to say something, Jake watched as Phinn’s next-door neighbor reached her driveway.

“Ummmm,” Pete hemmed and hawed a response.

“He…He said that Jesus never existed!” Eli exclaimed.

Fuck yeah! Great job, kid! Jake cheered in his head upon watching Mrs. Riese halt on the way inside. After she spun around, the highly religious woman marched back over with purpose written all over her face.

Backing away from the twist in the conversation, Jake escaped to his garage for the time being. Luckily, Wally didn’t make a scene with Mrs. Underlay before she left without buying anything. Instead, Shane Grogan’s mother stormed off in a huff after another joke about her son.

“I’ll be right back,” Jake told Wally. He needed to grab his phone so that he could keep in touch with Corky.

Entering the kitchen, Jake had to make a slight detour upon realizing that Bandit needed his lunch. Once he heated it up in the microwave, the teen promised his dog that he’d let him join them outside once he finished.

Unplugging his phone, Jake went to enter his passcode, but stopped abruptly as the main screen came to life on its own. It took Jake a moment to recognize what he saw.

“What the…How…Oh, shit!” Jake bellowed, earning an angry bark from Bandit for disturbing his lunch. “Sorry, sorry.”

Placing his hand on his forehead, Jake began to mutter, out loud and inside his head.

Crap, crap, crap, shit! That’s why I never got Phinn’s messages…Oh, fuck! Who got them?

Still distracted, Jake had enough awareness of his surroundings to hold the door open for Bandit, once the dog finished washing his lunch down with a bowl of water. Following the dog over to the garage, Jake’s expression caused Wally to ask what was wrong.

“This isn’t my phone,” Jake revealed, holding up a similar phone. “It’s the same model, but a different service.”

“Did you switch with someone?”

“No, it had to have happened yesterday at…”

Wally watched in surprise as Jake darted back inside his house before returning empty-handed.

“Did you figure out who it belongs to?”

“No, but I can’t risk it being out here. Someone might be listening,” Jake replied. Then he explained the break-in and the listening devices that Phinn and Libby discovered in their houses. “It had to have been switched when Johanna and I were locked inside the storeroom.”

“That’s what you get messing around with Zay,” Wally declared, nodding as if he had departed sage advice.

“Damn, I wonder if the whole thing was nothing but a ruse to grab my phone,” Jake pondered.

The two friends discussed the situation for several minutes while shoppers came and went. Suddenly, Pete and Eli appeared, looking exhausted. Jake didn’t want to ask if their haggard expressions came from the fight or Mrs. Riese’s spiritual lecture.

“Ah, man! Corky can’t contact me,” Jake realized.

“He said he found something and copied it,” Pete revealed.

“And he’s stuck on the second floor for now,” Eli passed on, reading the latest message off his phone. “Cork’s asking what he should do next.”

“Uh, tell him I’m on it. I have a plan,” Jake responded, lying. “He’ll know when it happens to get the hell out of there.”

Taking a few steps, Jake racked his brain for an idea. Looking over his shoulder, he dismissed the idea of using Corky's friends again. Bandit was also out. He didn't need the Rieses hating his dog any more than they already did. Wally could definitely be an option, but how to come up with an excuse for him to bother Mrs. Riese?

Then, Jake heard childish laughter nearby.

That’s it!

“I’ll be back!” the junior sleuth yelled over his shoulder.

Turning left at the sidewalk, Jake rushed around the corner before he entered the Plouffes’ backyard from the side. Inside, he found Tess cleaning up a mess that either three-year-old Halle or one-year-old Hester had made with their lunch. Grimacing at the vomit, Jake located Howard.

“Mrs. Plouffe, can I borrow, I mean, uh, use, no, can I have Howie’s help for a few minutes?”

“Hawk!” the five-year-old insisted about his new nickname.

“Sorry, Hawk,” Jake replied, waiting for a response from the young but overwhelmed mother. “It’s for a case.”

“Yay!”

“But it’s not dangerous at all,” Jake assured the tired woman.

“Aww!”

“I guess you can. He just finished lunch, and I need to give this one a bath now,” Tess said, indicating the food-covered Hester.

“Um, I guess Halle can come with, too,” Jake offered, causing Howie to slap his leg in protest. “I just need them for fifteen minutes.”

“Twenty? Hessie can be a handle at bathtime,” Tess explained. Although most of the neighbors might warn her not to trust Jake, she wholeheartedly knew he wouldn’t endanger her children.

Picking up Halle, Jake hurriedly escorted Howard over to Phinn’s front yard.

“Woof, woof!” Halle squealed after spotting Bandit near his garage. Still having trouble saying the dog’s name, the little girl usually tried to communicate with the bulldog in his language instead.

“We’ll visit Bandit in a few minutes. First, we’re going to play a game. Do you guys want to play a game and help me with a mystery?” Jake asked.

“Who’s the crook?” Howard asked.

“Mrs. Riese.”

“Wow! I knew it.”

“Sure, you did, Howie—I mean, Hawk,” Jake corrected. “Now, do you know how to play Ding Dong Ditch?”

Hawk nodded while Halle shook her head.

After a brief description and instruction, Jake directed the two young siblings into the Rieses’ front yard. Under normal circumstances, Jake could’ve handed this easily, but with all the neighbors and shoppers out, he had to avoid anyone catching him.

Despite slow progress with Howie and Halle meandering their way to the front porch, along with Jake's hissed directions, the plan worked like a charm — almost. Howard repeatedly pushed the doorbell while his little sister squealed and clapped happily. They'd been instructed to keep ringing the doorbell until Mrs. Riese opened the door.

“Why are you making such a racket?” Kathleen demanded, peering down through the screen door at the two children.

“Ding dong ditch!” Howie screamed, turning to run away.

Jake palmed his face. Halle had laughed so hard that she fell, plopping into a sitting position on her butt while on the porch. Meanwhile, Howie leaned into his Hawk nickname by throwing his arms out to swoop around the front yard while making bird noises.

“What is the matter with you two? Where are your parents?” Mrs. Riese questioned.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, ma’am!” Jake called out, running around the side of Phinn’s house. “Little Hester made a mess during lunch, so I offered to watch them while she cleaned up the baby. But they slipped away while I helped a customer.”

Picking up the giggling girl again, Jake ordered Howie to head back to his house. He used Bandit’s name as bait while Mrs. Riese launched into a lecture about parenting and poor decision-making. Ignoring the warnings about letting Phineas corrupt him, Jake brought the two kids down his driveway while praising their help.

If they cared, Halle and Howie immediately stopped upon seeing Bandit. From then on, they laughed and played with the excited dog until their mother came over to get them. Only about six minutes in, Corky appeared, entering through the Magnums’ rear gate.

“Did you find something?” Jake asked.

“Phinn didn’t lie. The guy looks huge!” the copper-haired fan club president exclaimed, holding up the flash drive triumphantly.

---

“There was another investigator?! When? What happened?” Johanna rattled off.

“He was found dead in an alley with a knife in his back,” Veronica Strecker revealed.

“Ohmigawd! When did this happen?” Johanna questioned.

“About twenty-five years ago,” the formerly blackmailed woman revealed.

“Terry Tully?” Phinn inquired, not sounding shocked at all.

The former beauty pageant winner performed a slight double-take before a small smirk formed. Reappraising the eighteen-year-old, she nodded at his guess.

“Aren’t you impressive, Phineas? Phillippa’s friends around here say that you’re smart, but not brilliant.”

“Don’t feed his ego,” Johanna warned. “It’s big enough already.”

“Before embarking on my own amateur sleuthing, I conducted extensive research into local private detectives, dating back almost a century,” Phinn explained.

“When the hell did you do that? Didn’t you start your little group like five or six years ago?” Johanna challenged.

“Yes, I performed all my research when I was eleven.”

Veronica let out a delighted giggle before catching herself.

“I shouldn’t laugh. That poor man was literally stabbed in the back.”

“Hold on. So you already knew about this blackmail case seven years ago?” the influencer queried.

“No. Tully never told anyone the precise case he died working on,” Phinn relayed. “The PI community in Edgewater in 2002 had shrunk considerably by that point. Tully mostly handled divorce work, yet he had a reputation for being the best of a poor bunch. Of course, the EPD was already quite incompetent. The so-called golden age of private investigators, such as Nate Teller and Noelle Betson, had long passed in Edgewater. That’s why I felt our work was needed.”

Clapping her hands, Veronica announced she needed to take a break for a moment. Inquiring if they wanted more beverages or coffee cake, she said she’d bring some back with her.

“Aren’t you suspicious? Shouldn’t we keep an eye on her?” Johanna asked.

“She’s seventy-six, Zay. She’s using the bathroom,” Phinn responded, shaking his head at his classmate.

For once, Phinn managed to shut up the chatterbox in her embarrassment. Veronica returned nearly ten minutes later with more lemonade and the aforementioned coffee cake. She also had a manila envelope, which piqued Phineas's interest.

“Sorry it took so long. I had to scrummage these up,” the gray-haired woman said, handing Phinn the envelope. “Those are the remaining pictures that I didn’t give to Terry Tully.”

The teen detective pulled out six photographs, all similar in style and content to the first one that had recently entered their lives. Flipping through them, Phinn recognized JJ, the construction worker, in a different setting and position with Veronica. Another picture obscured the man's identity, but Phineas recognized Eddie Lamarca by his shoulder scar. All told, Phinn counted five different lovers in the six photos.

“How many did you give Tully?” the junior investigator inquired.

“Three. The rest, I destroyed at the time or later. They were…more lewd,” the so-far shameless woman admitted, showing a rare moment of humiliation over her affairs.

“Do you mind if I make copies of these?” Phinn asked, flipping the photos over to read each extortion demand.

“Farris,” Johanna hissed.

“Not at all,” Veronica stated, shifting to face Johanna. “I’m too old to have any more shame. If Avery is still alive, I’d love to see him finally burn.”

“How did Mr. Tully find you?” the influencer inquired after nodding at her reasoning.

Veronica began by revealing the name of a friend whom Voyce also blackmailed. The now-deceased friend had been the person to give the private investigator her name. Although she couldn’t be sure, Veronica suspected that Tully had been working the case for some time.

“It’s just a hunch or feeling I had,” she explained. “He approached me roughly a year after I returned from Blueview. I’d say about five months before his death.”

“You don’t know who hired Tully?” Phinn questioned.

“No. He refused to reveal her identity, but I assume one of us finally had enough and wanted either justice or revenge. I give her credit for having the courage to do that, especially with what happened to the investigator,” Veronica admitted, sounding regretful over not doing the same.

“So, Tully confirmed it was a woman?” Phinn inquired.

“Oh, no. I mean, I just assumed,” Veronica admitted. “I suppose Avery blackmailed men as well, but I just felt that a woman would be the one who hired a private eye.”

Phinn agreed and asked her to tell them what else Terry Tully had told her.

“Apparently, I was the seventh woman he’d contacted. He mentioned another pair for which he had leads. I can’t say for sure, but I doubt that included Mimi von Essen. However, I knew of two women whom he hadn’t heard about. Plus, after his death, I learned the names of four more women whom Avery blackmailed, but I don’t know if they crossed over with his list. He wouldn’t tell me the names, but inquired about many men and women,” Veronica recounted.

They spent another twenty minutes reviewing any names, details, or events that Mrs. Strecker could recall, with Johanna jotting them down. Eventually, Phinn exhausted his lines of inquiry for the moment. Veronica readily agreed to help with any new information that he and Jake came across.

“I’d still like to conduct a full interview about your pageant days,” Johanna said, once the conversation appeared over. “Perhaps if you have time later. This blackmail case has piqued an old interest in the history of Miss Paddle.”

“Have you ever thought of competing? It’s a process that teaches you a lot about yourself. I’m sure it could benefit your influencing thing. And between us girls, it’s a wonderful way to meet men. That’s if you’re not taken already,” Veronica said, her eyes flickering over at Phinn rolling his.

“Oh, gawd no! We are not a couple!” Johanna denied, misreading the eye flicker in Phinn’s direction.

“Of course not. That’s as clear as the day,” Veronica responded. “I think Phineas needs a star who burns brighter in a different way—your in-your-face style clashes with his. Keep in touch, Phineas. I’ll find the perfect star for you. Waterfest might provide the opportunity.”

What’s the sudden obsession with everyone about finding me a date or girlfriend? This is getting tiring.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Phinn replied, standing up. “Oh, before we leave, I noticed a Walcott listed over in Pleasant Hall. That wouldn’t be Chandra Orchard-Walcott, would it?”

“Yes, it is…Oh! Yes, you should talk to her. Chandra was part of Mimi’s entourage during her heyday.”

---

A somewhat plump woman in her seventies with silver hair answered the door to 206 in Pleasant Hall. Immediately, she beamed with recognition after the two teens introduced themselves.

“Of course, I know you! I moved in here about a year and a half before Phillippa had to be transferred to her current home. We all miss her around here. She used to tell such bawdy tales from her youth,” Chandra Walcott relayed. “Some of us visit the nursing home occasionally. Others not so much. They don’t like to see their potential next stop.”

“Really? My great-aunt?” Phinn questioned. Then, considering his mother’s other relatives, he could kind of see it.

“Not to mention that Verity’s mentioned both of you. Did you hear that she's going to be editor for the second year in a row?” the proud grandmother asked.

Entering her senior year at South High School. Verity Walcott had crossed paths with Phinn and Jake as a reporter and editor of the Howler, their rival school’s newspaper.

“Hillarie mentioned it as a foregone conclusion,” Johanna recalled, referring to her cousin, who attended South High.

For once, Phinn kept his mouth shut out of politeness. Although he didn’t dislike Verity, he took Erin Donnelly’s side in the feud between the two school paper editors. There was also the fact that whenever their cases brought them into contact with South High students, those investigations inevitably turned into clusterfucks.

“So what brings you by? I’d suspect Johanna to be moving in on Isla’s territory, but an appearance by Phineas Farris hints at something different. Are you on a case?” Mrs. Walcott inquired, thrilled at the prospect of any potential excitement in her life. “Is Jake Magnum out on stakeout?”

“We’re investigating the blackmail of a group of women during the 1970s,” Phinn revealed.

“You’re here about Mimi, aren’t you?”

“So you knew she was being blackmailed?” the high school gumshoe double-checked. “I understand that you were part of her so-called entourage.”

“You’ve been talking to Kristine, Margaret, or Veronica, haven’t you?” Chandra chuckled before turning serious. “I hope it’s one of them, not Bunny. You haven’t spoken to Bunny Casperson, have you?”

“No, we haven’t,” Johanna answered.

“Good. Don’t believe a word she says about Mimi. That woman has always been a petty, jealous bitch,” Mrs. Walcott remarked, slipping out of her friendly grandmother persona.

“We’ve already been informed about the delightful Bunny Casperson,” Phinn confirmed before repeating his question about Mimi von Essen’s blackmail.

“Of course, I knew. Mimi couldn’t confide in her other high society friends about that part of her life,” Chandra said.

“You weren’t part of her main friend group? I’ve seen you in pictures with them,” Johanna noted.

"Let me explain," Chandra began. "I met Mimi in the summer of 1971. I was a few days into my first-ever job at Big Spot, around Memorial Day. Honestly, to this day, I don't know how I convinced them to hire me. I lied about my roller skating skills because that was one of the jobs every girl like me wanted."

“You were a carhop?” Johanna asked, grinning.

“For maybe five days, and that’s only counting three actual days of work,” Chandra replied. “Oh, I was terrible. The combination of skating and carrying food didn’t click with my agility. Add in how busy Big Spot gets on the opening weekend of summer, and I dropped so many dishes.”

“They fired you that quickly?”

“I don’t blame them. I was a walking disaster, or I guess I should say a skating disaster,” Mrs. Walcott laughed. “But I met Mimi because of it. I dropped a whole tray all over her beautiful dress. I’m talking greasy cheeseburgers, French fries with ketchup, appetizers, and several large mugs of root beer.”

“Oof!” Johanna sounded.

“I remember bursting into tears as I knew my days were already numbered. Yet, Mimi turned out to be the kindest, friendliest person I’d ever met. She took me into the bathroom to clean up my messy clothes while barely doing anything to hers. I probably should’ve been fired on the spot, but I earned one more day after Mimi took the full blame for the mess when the manager confronted me.”

“So that’s how you became friends? That’s a fun way,” Johanna commented.

“Actually, it wasn’t,” Chandra replied. “My parents were aghast at my dismal job performance. The next thing you know, my uncle called in a favor down at the Edgewater Dispatch for a junior stringer job they used to have for high school students. I probably had even less of a clue what to do compared to my carhop days. But they tossed me over to the old society pages section. I just winged it until I realized that it was one hell of a fun job for a seventeen-year-old.”

“I bet you got sent to all the big events, including Miss Paddle,” Johanna guessed.

“Right you are. That’s when I ran into Mimi again. At first, she wanted to give Big Spot a piece of her mind for firing me, but she relented once I explained that I loved my new summer job. That was the year she won, and everyone in Edgewater seemed to fall in love with her,” Chandra recalled.

“You clicked that fast?” Phinn inquired, finding it strange.

“I know it sounds unbelievable. I was just a girl from a working-class background, and Mimi came from high society. Yet, you’d understand if you ever met Mimi. She had this effortless charisma and charm. Few people whom she met ever despised her, and those were jealous bitches. The 1971 pageant turned out to be one of the biggest years, as the previous two years had been marked by drama. Bunny Casperson didn’t want to relinquish her crown. She attempted to defend it, which was unheard of. The committee had to enact new rules for everything. Some people later claimed that Mimi’s grace in winning and how she promoted the Miss Paddle pageant saved it.”

“Oh, I’m definitely doing a show or two about all this,” Johanna announced.

Phinn inquired more about Mrs. Walcott’s friendship with the It Girl.

“I’d definitely call myself an outsider to her usual friends. Most accepted me. A few resented my presence but also tolerated it. I think that as time went by, I sort of became Mimi’s unofficial publicist, which helped them view me as an employee or servant rather than an equal,” Chandra reminisced. “But we had a blast for those next couple of years. I graduated the following spring, which meant I had my life free for when Mimi’s Miss Paddle responsibilities ended. After that, we traveled to various pageants, including one that led to that screen test in Hollywood. I’ll say that even her most uptight friends enjoyed the ride during those years.”

“So did you girls date along the way, or was it just an all-girl trip?” Phinn queried.

“Nice and smooth transition, huh? Yes, I knew that Mimi liked women as well as men. I think she always had those feelings, but they blossomed once she left Edgewater and her parents. Knowledge of her female relationships was kept to a limit. Many people back then, especially from Mimi’s society circle, couldn’t fathom what it meant to be bisexual, which was Mimi’s sexuality,” Chandra explained. “I knew, as did a few others. Pretty impossible to hide on our trips.”

“Who knew is what I’m curious about,” Phinn revealed. “Somebody tipped off her blackmailer. Maybe a friend with whom she had a falling out?”

“No. Mimi avoided any romantic entanglements with her friends. Any relationships she had with women were with, I guess, what you’d call outsiders.”

“When did the blackmail begin? Did you know his name?” the experienced detective questioned.

“1974. I’ll never forget. It started only a week after her engagement to Crispin Claiborne. I’ve never seen Mimi so devastated. She already felt guilty and conflicted about accepting his proposal. She cared for Crispin deeply, maybe loved him on some level, but worried that she’d hurt him,” Chandra recalled. “I heard the name Avery Voyce. Hell, I attempted to investigate him, but I didn’t have the journalistic skills my granddaughter has today. Voyce found out and warned Mimi that I’d better back off or else.”

“Did you ever meet him?” Johanna asked.

“No. Was that common with the others? Mimi didn’t necessarily hide the blackmail from me and a few others, but we knew not to mention it very often. We could see the pain it brought. And her parents were the worst. She knew they’d banish her from the family if they found out,” Mrs. Walcott explained.

“Do you believe that she committed…well, did she–”

“Absolutely. Mimi did it. We saw her start to unravel after Crispin found out and called off the engagement. A couple of us tried to get her out of town because her family kept on demanding to know what she did to cause the engagement to end,” the older woman revealed, suddenly looking ancient as her eyes glistened. “I always regret not doing more. I thought she wouldn’t do something like that, but I knew immediately that she had.”

“We’re sorry to bring this up. I can only imagine how painful it must be,” Johanna said, offering the woman a tissue.

“No. I’m glad you’re here. If justice exists for Mimi, then it needs to happen.”

“Did you ever meet Terry Tully? He appears to have been a private investigator hired by another one of Avery Voyce’s victims,” Phinn inquired.

“No, I never met him. When was this?”

“A couple of decades ago. During the same time period, Tully ended up with a knife in his back. Maybe he was murdered because of the blackmail case, maybe for something else,” Phinn hedged.

“What about Mimi’s other friends? Do you think Tully might have contacted one of them?” Johanna asked, rattling off several names she’d learned during her research.

“Betsy Brown? Stay away from that two-faced bitch!” the jovial woman snapped. Then, taking a deep breath, she apologized. “I’m sorry. Betsy’s betrayal hurts nearly as painfully as Mimi’s death. Besides myself, Betsy was viewed as the other outsider. We weren’t the only girls from non-high-society backgrounds, but we grew closest to Mimi of the bunch. Unlike me, Betsy came from a solid middle-class background, yet she wanted more. That girl found it with one of Crispin’s best friends. We’re all sure that Betsy is the person who told Crispin about her bisexuality. It ultimately worked out for her. She now only answers to the name Elsbeth Arness. If you didn’t know, the Arness and Claiborne families have been thick as thieves for a couple of centuries. Betsy acts like she’s always been part of that blue-blood lifestyle. I shudder to think of the lies she’d conjure up about Mimi.”

"Jake and I have crossed paths a few times with the members of our generation. I'm sure that your granddaughter has informed you that Ariana Arness is Blaire Claiborne's most devoted sidekick," Phinn noted.

“Takes after her grandmother,” Chandra acknowledged before asking her own question. She wondered why they thought the private investigator had talked to Mimi’s old friends.

“We’ve come into possession of one Mimi’s blackmail photographs. It almost literally fell into our laps yesterday,” Phinn divulged, passing over his phone. “Someone had to have passed this long to Tully or his client.”

“I know this picture!” Mrs. Walcott gasped.

“You do?” Johanna responded.

“Mimi showed it to me,” Chandra revealed. “You want justice. Find this woman. She’s the one who set Mimi up. I don’t know her first name. It was something like Cloris, but it might have been a false name. However, she went by Nan Kronen. Everyone called her Nan because, despite her age, she acted like an old woman.”

“Nan as in a grandmother,” Johanna noted.

“This woman is the one who helped Avery Voyce blackmail your friend? She worked for him?” Phinn asked, wanting to confirm what she’d blurted out.

“Worked for him? I think she was his partner.”