by Hillary Avis
Chapter 30
“You don’t have to hog the dog,” Lilian said primly.
Allison hadn’t noticed her sitting at the nearby table, pushing pieces of a jigsaw puzzle around. She’d been so focused on Paul and Emily that she hadn’t noticed anything, really—not the slow current of activity that swirled around the room as residents amused themselves at a leisurely pace; not Myra making her rounds, stopping to chat with each resident like they were her whole world; not the weekend mail carrier filling the mailboxes in the side hall, whistling as she whipped envelopes into the slots.
Pogo strained in Allison’s arms, desperately trying to lick Lilian from three feet away. With a glance back over her shoulder at her family—they were still having an animated conversation and only had eyes for each other—Allison chuckled and set the dog on the chair next to Lilian. “I guess I can’t keep him away from you forever. He likes you too much.”
Pogo put his paws on the arm of the chair and panted eagerly. Lilian stroked his ears and smiled to herself. “That’s right. She can’t keep you to herself—if you like me, you like me, and she can’t stop you, even if you are her pet.”
Allison bit her lip to keep from laughing. It was clear Lilian was talking about a lot more than dog ownership—she was talking about Harman Winter, too! He was a bit like a dog, running back and forth between two owners for treats and cuddles. Or maybe more than two. But now that Gertrude was gone and Hedy had cut Harman off financially, maybe Lilian would finally have him to herself. Not that he was any kind of prize.
Pogo vaulted the two chair arms that separated him from Lilian and curled up in her lilac-scented lap, giving a contented sigh. He really did seem happy with her. It was a shame he couldn’t stay here at Golden Gardens, since he seemed to like visiting with the residents so much. He’d be a great little lap dog for all the residents, Paul included. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. If Myra agreed, Pogo could just stay here, sleeping on laps, licking chins, and running around making everyone happy. He’d bring a lot of joy to a lot of people that way.
“Excuse me for a minute, Lilian. Do you mind watching Pogo while I’m gone?”
Lilian bent her head over the dog protectively. “Of course I don’t mind. He’s my little man.”
Allison caught Myra’s eye over by the door to the kitchen and waved her down, leaving Lilian and Pogo’s lovefest behind.
“Those two are warming my heart,” Myra said, nodding toward Paul and Emily. “I don’t know how you did it, but it looks like a breakthrough to me.”
“It is. He remembers Emily now. At least, he remembers that he has a daughter, even though he can’t remember raising her.” Allison shifted uncomfortably. She wished she could tell Myra the whole truth about it, about the library and Paul’s stolen pages. About how this breakthrough was built on just a scrap of memory—a scrap that didn’t include Allison.
“You don’t seem happy, baby girl. You should be happy.” Myra’s perceptive eyes were on her. Allison tried to put on a more cheerful expression, but she could see it didn’t fool Myra a bit.
She sighed. “He still doesn’t remember me.”
“He will. He will. Give it time.” Myra patted her on the back, murmuring the words under her breath.
“Maybe so.” She clung to the faint hope that she’d unearth another scrap. All signs pointed to the page thief trying to erase her completely, so it was only if the thief had slipped up that Allison had any chance, and that meant she had to do a lot of reading in the library. Years of reading. “I’m just impatient. The last two years of waiting and hoping have felt like forever already.”
“Look at it this way: Emily brought him a lot of joy today, didn’t she? That’s what all that waiting was for. Now the clock resets. It’s counting toward something that will bring fresh joy. You can’t imagine it now, but it will build on today’s happiness. There isn’t a ceiling for joy and that’s why the universe can’t dump it all on you at once. It’s like...well, like when my first grandbaby, Nia, was born, I was over the moon. I thought the second one can’t add much to that feeling. But then Jaden popped out and it was even better. Now that number three is on the way...well, I expect limitless joy. But I know there is still more ahead.” Myra’s cheeks dimpled.
Allison nodded. She was less confident, but she wanted to believe it was true. She knew there was a chance, however small, that the page thief had left behind a scrap of her somewhere in the books, too. She was desperate to believe she’d be able to find a memory, even a partial one, in the library that Paul could use as a foundation for new memories of her. And she wanted to believe she could figure out who had done this to him—to them—so callously.
“Aw, would you look at that?” Myra pointed to where Lilian was coaxing Pogo through a series of obstacles as she shuffled around the activity room, rewarding him with bits of a saltine cracker. “It’s so nice to see her in a good mood. She’s been lonely since Gertrude died.”
“That’s what I came over to talk to you about, actually,” Allison said, remembering her original mission. “I was thinking...Pogo enjoys visiting here so much, and both Paul and Lilian have really taken a liking to him. What do you think about Pogo living at Golden Gardens?”
“Oh, wouldn’t that be nice?” Myra’s face crumpled into an apologetic expression. “But we can’t have any pets here...especially not ones who might bite.”
“Pogo wouldn’t bite!” Allison said indignantly.
“I know, hon. He’s a sweetheart. But it’s against company policy to take responsibility for any animals. Insurance reasons.”
“What if I took responsibility? I could adopt Pogo on paper, and he could live with Paul here, and everyone could enjoy him.”
Myra shook her head. “The only dogs allowed are service animals or visitors.”
Allison thought back to when Pogo had burrowed under the covers and licked the tears from her face. The Yorkie seemed to have an intuitive sense of when she needed affection and attention. “Pogo could be an emotional support animal—he’s great at comforting people.”
Myra nodded. “He sure could. If you can get him trained and Ms. Lilian gets a doctor’s note, that’s a real possibility.”
Allison made a frustrated noise. “I need to find him a home this weekend. I don’t have time to train him.”
“I wish I could take him myself,” Myra said. “But the babies grabbing everything that moves—”
“Oh, he loves kids!” Allison interrupted. “And he’s surprisingly sturdy for a Yorkie. He’s not a teacup...he’s a terrier.”
Myra grimaced. “Well, there’s Crystal’s farm dogs, too. I don’t think it’d be safe for a little pup like him. I’m sorry I can’t take him, Allison.”
Myra’s expression was so woeful that Allison felt bad for badgering her. “I’m sorry, too—I didn’t mean to put this on you. I’m just feeling the pressure to find him the right home, so I’m racking my brain to think of anyone who would love a fun little dog like him.”
“What about Theo?” Myra mused. “Pogo sure seemed to like him when he was in here the other day. And he’s got a bunch of kids who would love a dog to run after.”
“They can’t take on a dog right now.”
Myra nodded sagely. “Because of Ella.”
“No, not that—I mean, I guess it is that, in a roundabout way. He told me they’re moving so Ella can get better treatment.”
“Where to? Portland?”
“Iran. Apparently, they can buy a kidney outright there. They’re leaving tomorrow.”
Myra’s jaw dropped open. “What? That’s the first I’ve heard of it!”
“Wow, I thought you knew everything. Did I really get the gossip scoop before Myra Mitchell?” Allison grinned.
“Yes! And I just talked to Theo’s dad yesterday at the gas station. He didn’t mention a thing about it. Do you think he knows?”
Allison shrugged. “Maybe he’s not too happy about his only son and
all his grandchildren moving halfway around the world, so he didn’t want to talk about it. I can relate. It’s bad enough having Emily two hours away. You’re lucky Crystal wants you around.”
“I’m enjoying it while I can,” Myra said. “I guess I better call over to the Curtises to ask if I can bring them anything. A casserole or something. I am just so glad to hear they scraped up enough to get Ella her operation. Theo seemed so hopeless about it a couple weeks ago that I didn’t think it’d happen. They must have hit the lottery.”
“Yeah, good for them.” Allison nodded absentmindedly. But then, as the words percolated through her brain, her blood chilled. Myra was on to something. Ella’s operation had been a lost cause, according to Theo. She was too sick, and they couldn’t afford to move her closer to the children’s hospital. But then, only two weeks later, he quit his job and was moving her across the ocean to another continent, suddenly able to afford a kidney on the open market?
They must have hit the lottery, Myra said. What if she was right and Theo had? Forget buying people drinks at the bar or spending more cash at the grocery store—this was the change in spending habits Allison had been looking for when she stalked Hedy and Harman all over town.
What if Theo was the one who climbed through Gertrude’s window and stole the winning entry? After all, he had delivered the mail that day. All the sweepstakes entries in Remembrance had gone through his hands. Maybe he’d seen the ticket somehow. It would have been so tempting for him, knowing that the money he needed to save Ella was just sitting there in an envelope.
Her heart raced. She had to tell someone. But who? Myra? Allison looked over at her, but she’d gone to help Mr. Simon clean up a glass of water that he’d had accidentally knocked over. What could Myra do, anyway, other than speculate?
Kara Lee was the person to call. She had a badge and a gun and would know what to do about a thief and killer who was about to skip town. Allison pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. She found Kara’s number and was just about to hit “call,” when she paused.
“What do I say?” she asked herself aloud. It’s not like she had evidence Theo had committed a crime. Even if she could prove that he claimed the sweepstakes money, he could just say the winning ticket came in his own mail. She needed real evidence—physical evidence—that Theo had been the one to climb through Gertrude’s window. The killer hadn’t left any fingerprints, because he’d worn gloves. If only she could find the gloves that he’d worn...they might have Gertrude’s DNA on them from when he was defending himself from her knitting needle attack.
“Myra!” she said, striding across the room to where Myra was now tucking a lap blanket around Lilian on the sofa. “Don’t worry about taking anything over to the Curtises. I’ll bring them dinner.”
Myra turned, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Oh?”
Allison nodded, grasping for inspiration. Her eyes lit on Pogo in Lilian’s arms. “I’m taking Pogo by their house to visit with the kids. Maybe he’ll keep them entertained for a bit so Theo and Shadi can get some packing done. I might as well bring them a casserole at the same time.”
A smile spread across Myra’s face. “Well, aren’t you sweet. That sounds just perfect. See you at brunch tomorrow?”
“Feast and Flower at ten? Kara suggested it, but I don’t want to interfere with your church plans.”
“Oh, sure, I can go to the early service. Well, that’s great. Tomorrow’s settled.”
Allison nodded. Then to Lilian, she said, “I’m sorry I have to steal this little guy from you now.”
Lilian pouted. “You know he’ll always come back to me,” she said, winking at Allison as she relinquished her grip on Pogo. “No matter how many times you take him away.”
“I know. He’s all yours.” Allison patted her hand. It didn’t hurt to fib a little. Lilian’s mind didn’t work in a linear way anymore, and sometimes feelings were more important than facts.
Allison caught Emily’s eye across the room and gave a little wave goodbye before heading out. Though she’d like to stay and watch Paul and Emily reconnect, even from across the room, she had a casserole to make. It would buy her admission to Theo Curtis’s home—and the evidence he might be hiding there.
Chapter 31
Just before five o’clock, Allison wrapped a towel around the shepherd’s pie so she wouldn’t burn her fingers while she carried it over to the Curtises. It wasn’t her finest culinary achievement to date—after all, there was no flour or yeast involved—but it sure smelled good. Pogo thought so, too. He circled her legs, yelping and bouncing, begging for a taste.
“This isn’t for you, sorry. It’s for those kids. Actually, you’re for those kids, too. Saddle up.” She kneeled and snapped on his leash, tucked a couple of doggie-doo bags in her pocket, then looped the leash over her wrist so she had both hands for the casserole. “You better behave on this walk so I don’t drop their dinner.”
To his credit, Pogo didn’t pull too much on the way to the door, and outside he only wandered to the end of the slack leash to sniff and raise his leg on a fence post a couple of times. It was a good thing, too, because it was a hike over to Theo’s house. Remembrance might be small, but the Curtises lived on Doug Fir Drive, on the opposite side of town and about as far as you could get from Rosemary Lane.
Allison’s arms ached from carrying the hot dish by the time she reached their place. The house was a small, white rancher with beige shutters that didn’t look much bigger than the large moving truck parked in front.
A few small children played on the lawn, chasing each other in circles and hiding in the shrubbery planted along the house’s foundation. When Pogo caught sight of the kids, he forgot his good leash manners and bolted toward them.
“Pogo!” Allison yelped, hoping to stop him before he dragged her through the fence. He didn’t listen. She just had time to brace her heels and twist to the side before he hit the end of the leash and jerked her forward. Luckily, her last-minute maneuver paid off. The leash handle caught in the crook of her elbow and only jostled the shepherd’s pie rather than sending it flying out of her hands.
Her near disaster caught the attention of the kids, who saw the dog and squealed with delight. They ran toward her in a group like a herd of cattle, and she feared they’d take her legs right out from under her if they hit her knees. She didn’t need to worry, though...they stopped abruptly at the end of the lawn, their toes lined up against the edge of the sidewalk.
“It’s OK, kids. You can talk to her. That’s Mrs. Rye. She used to be my babysitter when I was your age.” Theo chuckled as he exited the back of the moving truck down the long ramp. The back of Allison’s neck prickled when she saw him—he was wearing the yellow-and-black work gloves she’d seen in the killer’s memory! He pulled off one glove and set it down on the bed of the truck before wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “Let the dog sniff you before you pet him so he gets to know you.”
The children crept closer, holding out their hands for Pogo. When he gleefully licked them, they squealed. “He likes me! He kissed me!”
Allison couldn’t help smiling. “He does! He loves meeting kids. Would you like to run around with him?”
They nodded eagerly, so Allison dropped his leash and shooed him onto the grass with her foot. She knew he wouldn’t run off—not when he had playmates like these. Pogo play-bowed to the kids, who squealed again and ran in circles around the dog. Pogo barked and barked as he joined their tornado of noise, his leash flying behind him.
“That’ll keep ’em busy for a while.” Theo grinned at her, and then raised his eyebrows. “What brings you?”
She studiously avoided looking at the glove he’d removed and instead lifted the casserole in her hands. “Myra and I were talking and decided you all might appreciate some dinner, so I made a shepherd’s pie.”
“Oh, wow! Thanks!” His eyes lit up and he reached for the dish. “It smells amazing.”
&nb
sp; “Careful, it could burn you. I just took it out of the oven.” Allison adjusted her grip so he could take it from her hands without losing the towel. Once he had ahold of it, she saw her chance. His hands full of a piping-hot casserole, he had no way to stop her from doing what she was about to do.
She whipped one of the dog-doo bags from her pocket and, slipping it over her hand, used it to grab the yellow-and-black glove from the bed of the truck. She flipped the bag inside out and tied it up as fast as she could.
Shock registered on Theo’s face, and he stumbled backward, away from her as he stared at the bag in her hands. “Wha—why’d you do that?”
“I think you know why, Theo,” Allison said quietly. He sagged against the side of the truck, still holding the casserole at chest level, and stared up at the sky. He was quiet for a few moments. She added, “You wore the gloves when you climbed into Gertrude Winter’s room at Golden Gardens, didn’t you?”
He made eye contact with her and nodded, looking miserable. “How’d you know?”
She couldn’t very well say that she’d seen it in his memories, so she just ignored the question. “You touched her with these gloves on, so the police will find your DNA on the inside and her DNA on the outside. It proves you’re the one who killed her.”
“I didn’t kill her! I didn’t even mean to hurt her. I was just going to climb in, grab the envelope, and climb out. But she had to wake up and attack me!” He slid down the side of the truck until he was sitting on the sidewalk and bowed his head. “I didn’t stab her. You have to believe me. She just fell.”
“I know,” Allison said. “And the police know that, too, from the medical examiner’s report. You won’t go to jail for murder. But I’m sure you realize that Gertrude wouldn’t have died if you hadn’t climbed in that window. She would have enjoyed her sweepstakes win and had fun throwing her money around a little bit and lived out the rest of her natural life. But instead she died because you were there. Because you took that envelope. You stole her money and you stole her life.”
