repeated. "You mean as in money?"
Sue nodded. "Quite a bit of it, actually. Over three-hundred-thousand dollars' worth. Hidden outside the house. It was concealed in an old refrigerator in her garage."
For the first time, Mildred George looked stunned. "Three hundred thousand dollars," she repeated. "That much?"
"So you knew she had money?" Sue pressed.
"I knew Agnes claimed to have money. At least that's what she told Hilda over the years, but I never really believed it. Where would that kind of money have come from? How did she get it?"
"That's what we're trying to find out," Sue explained. "We were hoping you'd be able to help us out."
Mildred shook her head. "I have no idea," she said. "None at all."
"Did your sister-in-law have a personal attorney?"
"A what? You mean a lawyer? I wouldn't know that, either. We weren't exactly on information-sharing terms. Why do you want to know?"
"As I told you, we've located the money," Sue explained, "but so far we haven't been able to find any kind of will. That means we have no idea how she intended to distribute the funds. In addition, the Internal Revenue Service will probably have to ascertain whether or not taxes have been paid before the money can be released to any possible heirs. That being the case, we'll need to locate her accountant, if any, as well."
"Well," Mildred said. "I know nothing about her accounting situation, but as soon as you do find a will, that will certainly settle things. No matter how much money Agnes Ferman had, I can't imagine that she would have left Andy and me one thin dime."
"She might have done so inadvertently," Sue suggested.
"How's that?"
"In the absence of a properly executed will, the state dictates how property is divided. Generally speaking, that means the estate is divided among the next of kin. Agnes has no living children or grandchildren, correct?"
"That's true. She and Lyle never had any children. Agnes was far too busy taking care of other people's children to be bothered with raising any of her own. That was hard on Lyle. I think he really would have liked having a son."
"As I understand it, her brother—your husband— and his sister—Hilda Smathers—are Agnes Ferman's only surviving relatives?"
Mildred nodded. "That's true. Other than our son and Hilda's two daughters, that's it."
"So," Sue continued, "in view of the fact that you have your husband's power of attorney, you would no doubt benefit as a result of having any of Agnes' money flow to your husband. Unfortunately, Mrs. George, that translates into possible motive. Now is there anyone at all—some neighbor perhaps—who would be able to say that you were home that night? Someone who might have seen your car parked out front all night long?"
Mildred sighed. "No matter what I say, you're still going to think I did it. So I could just as well go ahead and tell you the whole ugly story right from the beginning so you don't have to find out about it on your own. Andy and I met while he happened to be married to someone else. He was a social studies teacher and the head football coach at Everett High School. When I did my student teaching, he was my cooperating teacher, as we used to call them in those days."
Lonnie Olson was still standing at the far end of the counter. All the while Sue had been talking to Mildred George, I had been listening to them with one ear while also attempting to be aware of what was going on with Olson's telephone conversation. As far as I could make out, the negotiations that rumbled back and forth had something to do with someone wanting several trucks to use to haul green peas back and forth to the processing plant when it came time for the harvest in June. When the call finally ended, Lonnie stood at the far end of the counter and stared at Mildred George, hanging on her every word.
Seemingly unaware of her boss' riveted interest, Mildred George continued with her story. "Andy and Betty—his first wife—had been married for
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