by Lynn Cahoon
“Denyse, I’m Jill Gardner. Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.” I followed the woman to a small kitchenette.
“No problem. I had an opening on my calendar today. I’m getting part of Paula’s caseload for a few weeks later today, so this is perfect timing.” She held out a coffee mug. “Can I pour you some?”
“Sure, I’d love some.” I’d already had three cups at home. What would one more do? I took the filled cup and we walked into a nearby office. It was decorated in the same luxury style as its occupant.
Denyse set down her cup on a table by a wing chair and pointed to the couch. “Go ahead and sit. I need to get intake forms. This place is nothing if not a pile of information on our clients, but don’t worry, I won’t ask your weight or your bank account number. Although those are probably the only questions I won’t ask. The interview can feel a little invasive.”
“I’m not really sure I’m ready to act on anything for my aunt. She’s very independent. And I’m in the dark about her finances.” I wasn’t completely ignorant on those subjects, but there was no way I was going to tell a complete stranger how much my aunt had in savings or what she earned at the shop. Especially because my end goal was to find the guy who was pretending to be Uncle Ted.
Denyse looked at the form, then set it aside. “Sometimes I think we expect people to jump into the role of caretaker way too fast. Let’s just talk for a while, and if you decide you want our services, we can do the actual intake. How does that sound?”
Surprisingly perfect. I took my notebook out of my tote and grabbed a pen. “I appreciate your understanding. I have a few questions for you.” I held back the story of my aunt’s broker who’d taken off with a lot of her money. Instead, I painted the scene with broad strokes and focused on how vulnerable it had made her feel.
Denyse nodded and took a few notes, but actually seemed to be listening. “That must have been really hard on her.”
“She barely asked me for help then. She’s never asked for help before or after that day. But now, she’s getting some calls we both think are scams. And I can’t help but wonder if this is related to the other situation.” I glanced down at my page, like I was looking for the question, but I had it ready. Life’s a stage, right? “I wondered if there was a database where these people could store information about vulnerable people.”
“You think your aunt was targeted now because someone was able to scam her before?” Denyse leaned back into her chair, appearing to be considering the question. “It’s no secret that once someone falls for a scam, they seem to be hit over and over. We’ve always thought it was because they were easier targets and were susceptible to a good story. But if what you’re implying is true…”
I nodded as the realization came over Denyse’s face. “Then there is a way these scammers find their next target.”
Denyse had another appointment scheduled at eleven twenty. Apparently, intake appointments were supposed to be brief, but she took my card and promised to call if she found out anything about this secret database. As I left the office, she leaned on her doorway. “You know, we could be grasping at straws with this. It could just be coincidence or a basic character flaw in the victims.”
I thought about her parting statement during my shopping and as I drove up to the funeral home. Doc Ames was outside, working in the flower bed. I picked up the box of cookies and went to greet him.
He looked up at me, shading his eyes from the sun. “Well, aren’t you the prettiest thing out here besides these mums?”
“Flatterer.” I held out the cookies. “You got some iced tea to go with these?”
“I do, and we can eat in the kitchen. The afternoon light fills up that room and no one gets to enjoy it except the women from the churches who sponsor the gatherings after the funerals.” He brushed the dirt off his knees. “From dirt we come, into dirt we go.”
“I’m not sure that’s the quote.” I followed him around to the back door of the funeral home, where he put his gloves and garden hoe on a table.
Shrugging, he stopped by a sink in the mudroom. “Close enough. So, what has you here, as if I had to guess?”
“Actually, I might surprise you. I have two questions to ask you.” I followed him into the kitchen and set the cookies on a table. “Can I help you with the tea?”
“You just sit down. Tell me what’s on your mind. I’m curious. I figured you were here to talk about how Mr. Penn met his maker.” He took two glasses out of the cabinet and put chipped ice from the ice maker into them. Then he took a gallon of sun tea out of the fridge and filled the glasses. He set one in front of me and then took a peanut butter cookie out of the box. “My favorite. You know I’ll tell you almost anything for a homemade cookie.”
“These are better than homemade. Sadie made them.” I took a chocolate chip one and a sip of my tea. “I was wondering if you could tell me the process of filing a death certificate.”
“Well, not the question I expected.” He leaned back and looked at me. “But for you, I’ll go through the boring details.”
By the time he was done, I agreed that the process was boring. And I couldn’t see a place where someone could change or destroy a record once it was filed. So the issue had to be at the county court office where they were stored.
“Did that answer your question?” He peered at me with faded blue eyes that held so much concern for everyone.
I pushed the box closer to him. “It did. So, one more question. How did Ben Penn die? I know it was murder, but was he shot? Stabbed? Poisoned?”
“Because I’ve already filed my report, I’ll tell you what Darla has already gotten out of other people. The boy was shot. Not a professional job, so he lived for several painful minutes before he bled out. I think the owner of that house is going to have to replace that lovely, original wood flooring.” He took a second cookie. “I would have thought that Greg would have told you this.”
“I haven’t seen him for a while.” I didn’t want to admit that we’d been fighting. Besides, Doc Ames knew Greg didn’t like me involved in the murder investigations in South Cove if he could keep me out of them. “I’ve been working on another issue.”
“The one that has you wondering about death certificates. What, has someone returned from the dead?” He grinned at his joke.
When I didn’t respond, his eyes widened and the smile left his face.
“Well, we both know that’s impossible, so I could look at the death certificate and see if I did the autopsy. If so, I’d know that the person was truly dead. Some of my peers, well, they aren’t as upstanding as I am. Nor do they have as good a memory as mine.” He tapped the top of his head. “I’m not bragging, but I have a very good recall of my guest lists.”
“I bet you do.” I wondered if Aunt Jackie would be any madder at me for blabbing if I told one more person. “I’d appreciate you keeping this between us. I mean, Greg knows, so he’s okay, but if you could keep it close, I’d appreciate it.”
“Who are you concerned about, Jill?” The concern in his voice made me feel better, even if I was betraying my aunt’s trust once again.
“Theodore Ekroth.” I waited for recognition to seep into his eyes. “Yep, my Uncle Ted. Did you do his autopsy?”
Chapter 12
I left Bakerstown with a promise that Doc Ames would look into my uncle’s death. He hadn’t done the autopsy, but he said he’d find the files, if there were any. Back when Uncle Ted died, there had been two mortuaries in Bakerstown. A rival one down the road hadn’t survived long after the owner had been arrested. Doc had been hesitant to say any more, but I thought I could find the details on the internet. One more avenue of investigation that might just take me nowhere. I didn’t know how Greg did this time and time again.
I hadn’t told Doc why I was looking in to his death, but I’d bet he could figure it out. When I pulled into my driveway,
Darla’s little car followed and parked behind my Jeep. I opened the back and grabbed the grocery bags. I needed to get the ice cream I’d bought into the kitchen.
“Hey, girl, let me give you a hand with that.” Darla rushed to my side, and after two trips, and letting Emma outside, we were in my kitchen.
“Sit down. Coffee, iced tea, or a soda?” I dug through the bags and got the ice cream out and put that away while I waited for Darla to decide.
“Do you have a Coke?” She sat at the table and took out her notebook. “I’d kill for one. Matt thinks I’ve given up soda, so I have to be careful and sneak one when he’s not looking.”
“Relationships die on lies.” I grabbed two Cokes and set them on the table. I put the rest of the perishables away.
“I think that’s considered the pot calling the kettle black.” Darla opened the can and took a long drink. “Besides, I don’t have these all the time, so I really appreciate it when I do.”
I sat down and pointed to her notebook. “I’m sure you’re not here just for your Coke fix. What’s on your mind?”
“I told you I was going to come back to see what you knew about Ben’s death. I was in Bakerstown this morning and saw your car at the Senior Project. They totally stonewalled me when I went in to ask questions. That guy who’s the administrator is a total jerk. Did you meet with him, Earl something? I have his name in my notes. And that’s about all I got. Did they tell you anything else?” She held her pen as she watched and waited.
“I wasn’t there to talk about Ben.” I ran my finger around the rim of the can. Telling Darla about the problems Aunt Jackie was facing changed the picture. She had a lot of contacts, but I wondered if I could really trust her not to say anything.
“I don’t understand. If you weren’t there to talk about Ben…” Realization filled her face. Sometimes I thought the woman was too good for her own sake. “Oh, no. Is Jackie all right? I figured there was something going on with her health after she broke it off with Harrold. She doesn’t have dementia, does she? My uncle had what they called senility back then, but I really think it was Alzheimer’s. Please tell me she hasn’t been diagnosed.”
Great, now my hesitation had Darla thinking the worst. “According to her doctor, she’s fine. I talked to him last week. But someone has been calling her, and I think it’s a scam. I went to the Senior Project to see what they knew about things like that.”
Darla sipped her coffee. “She didn’t give out her account information, right?”
“No, she says she hasn’t given him any money, but I’m concerned. After I left, I did my shopping and then I went to give Doc Ames some cookies on my way home. I like to stop by when I’m in town; the guy doesn’t get out and away from the funeral home much. I asked about the case and he said Ben was shot. Does that help your article?”
“I knew that the day after the murder. I really was hoping for some more specific details. I heard a rumor that the girlfriend was at the top of the suspect list.” Darla set down her pen and sipped on her soda. “You and I know that they’re always on the investigators’ short list. At least until the evidence proves them innocent. Has Greg cleared her yet?”
“Not that I know of, but like I’ve said before, we really don’t talk about cases. He’s afraid I’m going to get my nose into something and the bad guys are going to cut it off.”
“You know journalists have been killed during a juicy investigation. He’s probably right. There might be people who’ll want to kill you if you get too close to the truth.”
I stood and grabbed a box of cookies from the sideboard. I ate one as I returned to the table. “Great, thanks for the encouragement. I guess I should just hide under my covers every time someone is killed in South Cove. Pretend like I don’t care.”
Darla reached out and took the box of cookies from me. I grabbed two out of the box before she moved them out of my reach. “I didn’t mean that. And you need to do something about your stress eating. I don’t know how you stay thin with being around all those treats all the time.”
“I stress run too.” I smiled at Emma, who was out on the porch looking in at us through the screen door. “Ben’s murder seems off. The only thing I know about him is Paula adored him and he helped out around the Senior Project. Computer work, I believe. Is that what he did as a job? Freelance computer geek?”
“That’s what people have told me. According to Paula, she paid the bills and he would give her money when he finished a contract. But most computer guys make better money than he was telling her. I got the feeling they were pretty strapped most of the time.” Darla jotted down a note. “That’s a good angle. I know a lot of couples keep their finances separate, especially when they aren’t married, but you would think he’d be more upfront with what he really made. He could have a bank account with a hunk of change in it because he was making Paula pay all the bills.”
“The bank isn’t going to tell you if he had an account, much less how much he had in it.” I sank back in my chair. “Seriously, Greg has his hands full with this one. If you take Paula off the suspect list, it could have been a random shooting.”
“We don’t get many drive-by shootings here in South Cove.” Darla closed her notebook and tucked it in her tote. “Besides, who said Paula was off the list?”
I thought about what Darla had said long after she’d left. Was Paula really a suspect? She’d seemed so in love with the guy, I knew she couldn’t have killed him. No way, no how. I pulled the cookie box closer, then reconsidered and picked up my phone instead. Dialing Greg’s number, I expected to get voice mail, but instead, he answered.
“Hey, do you have time to eat? We have steaks, but if you don’t have time to grill, I could meet you at Lille’s.” I held my breath. One, I hoped he’d say yes because I hadn’t seen him for a while. And two, I was really hungry. I could go to Lille’s on my own, but I could also make myself dinner here. Lille’s just had more options and, bonus, I wouldn’t have to cook or clean up.
“If we go now, I could get away.” His voice seemed to calm me as it boomed through the speaker. “I needed to talk to you about Jackie anyway.”
“Okay then, I’ll get Emma settled and start walking.” I wondered if he’d found out anything new.
“See you there.” He clicked off.
Walking the few blocks up the hill and into town gave me time to form a casual question about Ben’s murder. If I was too direct, Greg would shut me down, but I could put the blame on Darla; that angle he’d understand. Either way, I was getting a free meal out of the deal.
The place was almost empty because the diner rush hadn’t started yet. Mondays at five didn’t seem to be a popular time for the local diner. Although there were several couples in their golden years sitting and finishing their meals. Looking at them chatting and talking made me smile, until I thought about Harrold and Aunt Jackie. It wasn’t fair that some creep had stolen their time together by playing with my aunt’s emotions. I knew my uncle was dead. Now I just had to convince my aunt of that fact. Having Doc Ames’s information would go a long way in doing that.
Greg hadn’t arrived yet, but Carrie waved me over to our favorite booth. “You alone tonight, or is that man of yours joining you?”
“Greg should be here anytime. I bet he got hung up at the office. He’s always trying to do one more thing.” I sat down and took the menus. “How come you’re still on shift? I would have thought you’d be gone by now.”
“I work a split shift on Mondays. That way I can get some hours in when people are actually here.” She glanced around the dining room. “Although this is usually the most people I get on the dinner shift. Everyone’s home cooking for themselves at the first of the week.”
I thought about Darla’s comment about Paula paying the bills. “Hey, did you wait on Paula and Ben much? Do you know if they split the bill?”
“Ha. I don’t think
I ever saw him pick up a tab. That girl always paid. And she’s a good tipper too. Always twenty percent, no matter what they ordered.” Carrie peered at me. “You’re not investigating again, are you?”
“Just thinking.” I waved to Greg as he came into the restaurant. “Can you bring me an iced tea?”
“Sure thing.” Carrie winked at me like we had a secret. I guess she knew I didn’t want to continue the conversation with Greg at the table. “What can I get for you, hun?”
“Coffee and water. It’s going to be a long night.” He kissed me on the cheek as he sat across from me. When Carrie left, he glanced at the menu and quickly set it aside.
“You already know what you want?” I was surprised. Usually, he took a while to make his decision.
“Fried chicken dinner plate.” He smiled and took my hand. “I’m really glad you called. Today has been brutal. I’ve been in more meetings than I usually do in a week. Everyone wants this Penn case closed and off the books.”
“I didn’t realize you even had a suspect.” I had been considering a chef salad, but the chicken sounded much better. And I hadn’t eaten another cookie. I set my menu on top of his and covered his hand with my own.
He frowned as he watched me. “I don’t think you’re going to like what I’m going to say, but yeah, Jill, I have a suspect. Ben was shot with a gun registered to Paula. It had her fingerprints on the grip. The only thing holding me back from jumping right now is that her hands didn’t have GSR on them. But that could have been because of when we tested her.”
“Paula didn’t do it.” I felt sick as I thought of how upset the woman had been while she talked to Sadie and Pastor Bill. “There is no way. She was heartbroken when she came into the shop.”
