child I’d seen in the attic window of the Prospect House, the little girl with the plump cheeks and wide, haunting eyes. I’d glanced back at the window a couple times after I’d first seen her, and no other faces had appeared. She must have gotten separated from her tour group. Or maybe I’d imagined her. Given how little sleep and how much stress I’d had, hallucinations would not be unexpected.
Well, I’d have to work with what I had. I opened my email and shot off a brief note to Carter Stone requesting a private tour of the Prospect House at his earliest convenience. I didn’t know him personally but had heard he was a nice guy, if a little eccentric. Surely he’d understand why I hadn’t made today’s tour. Next, I conducted deeper research on the Prospect House. I should have probably done this before today’s scheduled tour, but I’d figured I already had the basics from asking around and paging through the library’s copy of After the Battle , a thorough softcover history book of Battle Lake.
Preliminary online research didn’t tell me any more about Barnaby Offerdahl and his mansion than what I’d already gathered from local sources. I clicked into the database I’d subscribed to after I’d decided to pursue my PI licensure in October. Once I’d discovered that a private investigator license in Minnesota required six thousand hours of work under a licensed PI, with a police department, or for a law firm, I almost quit the dream. But with a firm nudge from Ron at the newspaper, I’d taken my certification class last month in Willmar, near my hometown of Paynesville. I’d since lined up a handful of tiny jobs through a local law firm. Investigative work, surprisingly, was not much different than running a library. I looked stuff up online and listened to people.
My current Prospect House search was running into another dead end, which was the way the day was going in general. I discovered that Carter Stone didn’t actually own the Prospect House but had rather bought it through a nonprofit organization he’d created called Preserving History. I also found out that over half of the lots skirting the Prospect House and a big, tear-shaped tract of undeveloped land behind it belonged to Gregory Offerdahl, presumably a descendant of Barnaby’s. I didn’t see how any of those two pieces of information would flesh out my article, though. People wanted to know about the Civil War Museum hours and the cache of 1920s jewelry and flapper dresses Stone had reportedly discovered in the attic, not who owned what land parcels when.
I sighed. I wasn’t going to uncover anything more today. I decided to think about it tomorrow, which seemed like a really good attitude to take when things weren’t going as planned, which was most of my life. I’ll worry about it tomorrow .
Still not ready to go home and mentally exhausted, I decided to do something I knew I’d be successful at: track down a recipe for my “Battle Lake Bites” column. In the past, I’d used the search term “weird Minnesota food” when looking for recipe inspiration. You’d be unsurprised at how many hits that turned up. Since I’d started on my journey of personal growth, though, which included really seeing and appreciating Battle Lake and its people, I’d been reluctant to toss Cool Whip on top of, or cream of mushroom soup into, something that was already gross and calling it an original Battle Lake recipe. In fact, despite today’s gruesome discovery or maybe because of it, I felt like serving up something truly delicious to the town. And what could be better than Nut Goodies?
Nut Goodies have been produced in Minnesota since 1912 by Pearson’s, better known for their Salted Nut Roll. It would be generous to call the Nut Goodie a candy bar. It is more of a candy pile. Its base is a creamy maple center topped with unsalted Virginia peanuts, and the whole mass covered in milk chocolate. It’s so sweet it’ll give your