Free Plantation Shudders by Ellen Byron

maintenance.” Maggie pulled the doors open a few inches and peeked inside the room, which showed no sign of being a crime scene. “I wish I could take a look in those drawers. I wonder when the police will allow us to go back in.”
    “Why wait?” Gran’ said. She gave her granddaughter a hard shove, and Maggie tumbled into the Rose Room.
    “Gran’, what are you doing?”
    “You’re in now, and if anyone asks, you can blame it on me,” Gran’ stage-whispered into the room, making sure to look in the opposite direction. “If you work quickly, no one will even know. I’ll make myself comfortable here on the veranda so that it looks like I’m just relaxing, but I’ll be on guard for you. Remember how I used to love bird watching? It made me quite good at keeping an eye out.”
    “But what if someone uses the inside entrance to the room instead of this one?”
    Gran’ gestured toward Crozat’s front lawn. “I saw the police all head into that mobile van of theirs, probably for some kind of confab. I can see it from here, so if I notice anyone head into the house, I’ll give you a sign. I know—I’ll say, ‘Go away, you awful mosquitoes.’ Oh my goodness, that works on two levels, because mosquitoes are annoying and these police officers are as annoying as mosquitoes. Quite clever by accident, if I do say so—”
    “Excuse me, but I’ve just broken into a crime scene. Can we move this along?”
    “Fine. Go spy.”
    Maggie was dubious about following a plan concocted by a woman whose only knowledge of detection work came from 1960s Pink Panther movies. But given that she was already in the room, she decided to grab the chance to take a pass at it.
    A quick glance around showed Cal and Art had been respectful during their search. Everything was in order and the only evidence of their presence was dust from where they’d lifted fingerprints.
    Well aware of how squeaky Crozat’s old floors were, Maggie tiptoed over to the room’s beautifully carved walnut chest of drawers and slowly opened the top one. Since all the Clabbers’ personal items had been removed as potential evidence, the drawer was empty and its lining lay flat against the bottom. She felt safe in assuming that like most women, Beverly would only have used one of the top two drawers for her undergarments. She ran her hand along the bottom of the drawer but felt nothing unusual. She closed it and opened the second drawer, which was also empty. Maggie ran her hand along its bottom and felt a slight, almost undetectable rise in the back right corner. She lifted up the lining and found a thin envelope taped to the bottom of it.
    Maggie removed the envelope but resisted the urge to tear it open, knowing that her time was better spent searching the room for other clues. She didn’t debate long where to look next. Maggie knew from past guests that seniors often still naïvely believed there was no better hiding place than under the bed.
    She got on the floor and shimmied her way under the heavily canopied nineteenth-century bed whose intricate design matched the room’s chest of drawers. She was relieved to findthe area spotless. If we survive this nightmare and ever have any extra income, Marie and Bud are getting a bonus , she thought as she ran her hands along the ancient springs that held up the mattress, feeling for anything unusual.
    “Hello.”
    Maggie froze, heart in her mouth. The voice was male and she knew exactly who it belonged to. She hid the envelope in the back pocket of her shorts and pulled her shirt down to cover it. Then she slowly wiggled out from under the bed and found herself staring up at Bo Durand, who was standing in the inside doorway. Maggie wondered how he’d escaped Gran’s professed skill at sentry duty.
    “Oh, hey,” she responded as casually as possible for a woman caught on the floor of a room where she’d just conducted an illegal search. “I’m glad you’re here, I was looking for