Eccentric Lady

by Curry, Edna

  “Doctor’s orders,” Harold mimicked in a frustrated voice. “Damned fool thinks I’m senile. Well, I ain’t, yet. Maybe a bit forgetful sometimes, but who isn’t? Rolly hired him. Says I can’t fire him. Ha. Bet I can make him want to quit, though.” He cackled again.

  I sipped my coffee, wondering if I’d get anything worthwhile from him. I waited for him to reveal something, but now he only drank his coffee and stared out the window.

  “Back to Agnes. Was she Roscoe and Henrietta’s only child?” I knew the answer, but wanted to test his memory, just to see if I could depend on what he told me.

  Harold shook his head. “No, they had three kids. Jolene, Arnold and then Agnes. Jolene married a guy in Wisconsin somewhere. I forget his name. She had two kids, Corey and Patti. Patti’s a pretty thing, tall, skinny and blonde, like Roscoe’s two girls were. Patti came to see me yesterday, did I tell you that? Thought I was still Agnes’ lawyer. I sent her to Rolly.”

  “Hm.” Interesting. What did Patti want to see the lawyer about? Agnes’ will, perhaps?

  “Jolene’s dead, too. Car accident killed her and her husband. Everybody’s getting dead. ‘Cept me. Well, my time’ll come too, probably pretty soon.” Once again, he stared into space. He emptied his cup and it clattered as he almost dropped it in his saucer.

  I got up and took it from him. “Would you like more coffee?”

  “No.”

  “You said Roscoe had three kids. Jolene and Agnes…who was the third?”

  “Arnold. A mean scalawag if there ever was one. Tall and blond, like the others, but built stocky and rough in his ways. Didn’t like him, much. I was glad when he took off after his dad died, so I didn’t have to see him all the time.”

  “Did you like the rest of the family?”

  “Sure. They were all pretty nice to me. Except Corey, Jolene’s boy. He’s a lot like Arnold. Got a mean streak a mile wide. Got in trouble a few times, so we had to manage his money for him, or he’d never have gone to college like his mom wanted.”

  “Where’d the money come from?”

  “From his parents’ life insurance. Sure pissed him off that we made him spend it on college, but luckily he was young enough that we could set it up in a trust fund. Fixed it so he couldn’t get any of the money unless he stayed in school and passed his tests. It worked, though. He finished college. Jolene would have liked that.” He cackled. “Some people say we’ll see dead people again. Do you believe that?” He tipped his head and eyed me.

  “Yes, I do. I think there’s a lot of things in this world we don’t know about. But maybe we’ll find out, someday.”

  “I hope so.” He nodded his head.

  I heard Geoffrey coming back, so knew I’d run out of time. “Have you seen or talked to Corey lately?”

  “Not for years now, no. He’s living out west somewhere, I heard.”

  “How about Arnold?”

  “Not him, either.”

  I rose as Geoffrey appeared with Lady. “Thanks for visiting with me, Harold.”

  “Come see me, anytime,” Harold said, grinning.

  Geoffrey looked relieved as I said goodbye and left. I remembered Millie had had the same reaction. What didn’t they both want me to find out? Was it the same thing or different things?

  Chapter 7

  The next morning, Marion and I sat in the Flame having coffee.

  “Agnes’ funeral is tomorrow?” Marion asked.

  “Yes. I didn’t know her, but need to go. Perps often show up at funerals, I’m told. I want to see who’s there.”

  Marion laughed. “Yeah, but how would you know who the perp is, if it’s a relative who would have a legitimate reason to be there?”

  “I know,” I said with a sigh, buttering my cinnamon roll. The delicious scent of fresh baked bread teased my nose as I took a big bite and closed my eyes, savoring the spices bursting over my taste buds. “Mmm. Delicious. I really should learn to bake bread.”

  “Why bother, when you can just come here to get your fix?”

  “True.”

  “Is your mother coming up from Florida for the funeral? She used to work with Agnes at some charity things, didn’t she?”

  “No, she’s not coming, thank goodness. I don’t need her to deal with on top of everything else.” I shuddered. “But yes, I called and told her about Agnes. Pastor Jim mentioned that they used to work together at some church functions. I knew I’d be in hot water if I didn’t let her know in time, in case she wanted to come up. But luckily, she had other plans and said she hadn’t been close to Agnes anyway.”

  Marion nodded, finished off her roll and refilled our cups from the coffee pot. “I don’t think Agnes was very close to anyone in town, other than her family, of course.”

  I nodded. “Nora said the same thing. She’s never even been inside Agnes’ house.”

  “So what are you wearing to the funeral?”

  I lifted a shoulder. I’m a casual person and seldom think much about what I wear. “My one black dress, I suppose.”

  Marion frowned. “That’s what you wear to every funeral. Don’t you want something new? I have this cute dress you might want to try on…”

  I put up a hand. “Nope. I don’t even dare look, so don’t tempt me. I blew my wardrobe budget already this month. Okay?”

  “You can’t blame a gal for trying,” she said, laughter sparkling in her eyes. “I’ve got to practice my salesmanship.”

  “True. And I really wish I had lots of money. But you know I’m more comfortable in jeans and blouses, anyway.”

  “Yes. Best I get back to work. Call me when you get news, okay? I’m anxious to see how all this turns out.”

  “Sure will.”

  ***

  Good as her word, Patti called me to tell me both Arnold and Corey had arrived. She suggested I have lunch with them at the Flame at noon.

  “Any news on if the sheriff is done at the house?”

  “Not yet. I’d like to dig through Agnes’ files for a will and I think she would have had a safety deposit box at some bank. Did you find anything on her computer about that?”

  “Not yet. I’ll try to spend more time looking though stuff tonight,” I promised.

  Later, as I ambled toward the restaurant, I spotted a man I recognized as Arnold from the photo at Agnes’ house getting out of a car with rental license plates. A spiffily dressed blonde woman emerged from the passenger side of the car. They hurried on into the Flame without even glancing my way.

  Out of habit, I stopped, pulled out my notebook and wrote down his car’s license number. But I decided to wait for Patti to introduce us. I went into the Flame and took a seat at the waiting bench in the entrance. Glancing into the dining room I saw they’d claimed a table.

  A few minutes later, Patti parked outside the window. An old Ford parked behind her and a young man got out. She climbed out of her new Honda and waited on the sidewalk for him to catch up to her. He looked a lot like her and they strolled in together. The young man had a hard look to him. His hair was too long and unkempt, his clothes rumpled and looked cheap, like he might have found them at a thrift store. I frowned. Hadn’t Patti said he had a sales job where he flew around the world? He surely wasn’t dressed in what I would expect a salesperson for an international company to wear. Had he lied to Patti about his great job? Or lost it since she’d last talked to him?

  Patti spotted me and I rose to meet them. She introduced me to her brother, saying, “Lacey is the private investigator I hired.”

  Corey grunted hello and eyed me suspiciously. “What’d ya need a PI for?”

  Patti frowned at him. “To find out who killed Aunt Agnes, of course.”

  “That’s the cops’ job,” Corey snorted.

  “Well, I don’t happen to like how they’re doing their job,” Patti snapped. She looked around the dining room and spotted Arnold and the woman. “There’s Uncle Arnold. Come on.”

  She led the way over to his table. Arnold rose a
nd gave her a hug, then shook Corey’s hand. “This is Lulu Kenner, my fiancee.”

  “Oh,” Patti said. “I hadn’t heard you were engaged. Nice to meet you, Lulu.” She smiled at Lulu and shook her hand.

  Lulu eyed us suspiciously, as though she’d only heard bad things about the Minnesota relatives. I wondered if that was, indeed, the case. Up close now, I could see that Arnold’s fiancee’s hair was dry and straw-like from over bleaching with dark roots at the part in her hairline. Her face was lined and she wore too much make-up. She wore blue slacks and a dressy white blouse under an expensive, blue cashmere sweater. Pearl earrings hung from her ears and a two-strand pearl necklace decorated her neck.

  Patti introduced me to Arnold and Lulu and a waitress appeared. She handed us menus and then went to get the coffee, cola and water we’d requested. After serving those, she took our orders. Predictably, we three women ordered Chef’s salads and Corey and Arnold ordered hamburgers and fries.

  I waited until she was out of earshot before asking Arnold and Corey to update me on their activities the past few days. Both claimed to have been at their jobs until they flew in today. Lulu fidgeted with her coffee and said little, but seemed to be listening carefully to our conversation.

  But Corey’s attitude was so surly, I decided I’d do my own checking on both of them. Neither claimed to know anything about Agnes’ activities lately.

  Corey did admit to talking to Agnes on the phone this past week.

  “What day was that?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t remember, exactly. Maybe Wednesday or Thursday.”

  “What did you talk about?”

  “Nothing much. Just small talk.”

  “What kind of small talk?”

  “Oh, you know. Just the usual stuff. She told me about some volunteer work she had to do, I told her about my car needing new brakes, that sort of stuff.”

  “I’ll bet you asked her for a loan,” Patti put in with a frown.

  “None of your business, if I did,” Corey snapped back. “She’s loaned you lots of money, so why should you object if she borrows me some?”

  Patti shrugged and sipped her coffee.

  Oh, oh. Sibling rivalry is alive and well between these two.

  “She had tons of money anyway, with all that stock market crap she did. So why shouldn’t I have a little of it? She learned how to play the stock market from Grampa Roscoe, so it’s not as though she could take full credit for knowing how to do that, anyway.”

  “Well, sure, he knew about the stock market, too,” Patti admitted. “But not to the extent Agnes did. She really studied the companies. I could ask her anything and she always knew the answer, right on the tip of her tongue.”

  “That’s all you know about it.” Corey leaned back as the waitress brought our food and arranged it on the table. He waited until she left, then continued, “Besides, Grampa Roscoe was sick in the head.” He glared at Patti as though daring her to disagree.

  Lulu gasped and stared at Corey, then glanced at Arnold, alarm on her features. But she said nothing and carefully arranged ranch dressing on her salad, then began eating it.

  Arnold snapped at Corey, “Hey, don’t talk about my dad that way. He was a good guy. Taught me a lot.” He picked up his hamburger and bit into it.

  Corey shrugged. “I just mean anybody who’d kill himself has to be a little off. That’s all.”

  Patti frowned and pursed her lips. “No, Corey, he wasn’t mentally ill. He was a very kind and sober man. And he was a very intelligent and successful lawyer. He never had any mental problems at all.”

  “Yeah,” Arnold put in. “You’re the nut, Corey. Always getting into trouble in school. How many times did you get suspended for some stupid prank or other?”

  “Be nice, Arnold. He’s straightened out now and has a good job with an international firm. He flies all over the world,” Patti said, jumping to defend her brother.

  “Oh, yeah?” Arnold glared at Corey. “What kind of good job lets you dress like a bum?”

  Corey flushed. “I’m on vacation. It never seems like a vacation if I have to shave and dress up.”

  Patti smiled. “So that explains it. But I hope you brought something dressy to wear to the funeral?”

  “Yeah, I did,” Corey mumbled, dipping a French fry in catsup and eating it. “Now you sound like Mama used to.”

  Patti laughed. “Somebody has to boss you. But why do you think Agnes had a lot of money?”

  “All that stock market stuff she kept sending me,” Corey said. “She was always trying to get me to play with her. But I knew it wasn’t a game. She was too crafty for that. She played for keeps. But she wouldn’t give me any of the money she said was in my stocks.”

  Patti snarled, “Because that was only a game, you numbskull. I told you. It wasn’t real money. And I don’t think she had much extra money to loan to you. You shouldn’t have asked her. You’re old enough to earn your own money.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Corey insisted. Both were now red-faced and angry.

  Arnold stared from one to the other, obviously nonplussed at this idea. “Why would she call it a game if she played with real money?”

  Neither Patti or Corey seemed to know the answer.

  I wasn’t going to get any info out of them at this rate. I tried to smooth things over by moving everyone’s attention to Arnold. “When did you last talk to Agnes, Arnold?”

  He made an obvious effort to calm himself and drew a deep breath. “I haven’t talked to her in a couple of weeks. She called me on my birthday.”

  “What else did you talk about?” I asked.

  “Nothing much.”

  “Did you tell her about Lulu?”

  “No.” He glanced at Lulu, then back at me. “Look, you might as well know, if Patti didn’t tell you already. Agnes and I haven’t been close since our dad hung himself.” Arnold’s face reddened in anger again. Lulu sat silent, but I noticed she reached over and clasped his hand as though to comfort him. She might look like a floozy, but apparently they were close.

  “Oh? Why?” I asked, forking up more of my Chef’s salad.

  “Because he left her more money than me, that’s why,” Arnold snapped.

  My stomach lurched. Oh, oh. The old inheritance squabbles. Trying to keep my voice calm and soothing, I dared ask, “Do you know why he did that?”

  Arnold flushed even more. “He said in his will that it was because he’d loaned me money earlier and I didn’t pay it back. But that was no reason to play favorites. It wasn’t fair. And then he had to go and kill himself, to boot.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I’m sure that must have been very hard for you all.”

  “Yeah. Life’s a bitch and then you die.” His voice was bitter.

  As we ate, I pondered the question. Was he bitter enough to kill his sister? If so, why now? Why not years ago?

  “Did Agnes leave a will?” I asked, pouring myself more coffee from the pot the waitress had left us.

  Arnold, Lulu and Corey lifted their gazes to Patti. Obviously, none of them knew the answer, but thought she should know.

  Patti said, “I asked Rolly Billings. He said they have one on file from five years ago. He thinks it’s the last one she made.”

  “He thinks? Wasn’t he still her lawyer?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. Agnes wasn’t happy with him about some things, so she’s been taking care of most of her own business affairs. She was quite competent, you know.”

  Corey shrugged. “I don’t know, either. Rolly was always in charge of my trust fund until I turned twenty-five and got control of it myself. But by then, there was almost nothing left in it. He said I’d used it all going to college.”

  “Really?” Patti asked. “You must have spent a lot more than I did, then. Because I had quite a bit of money left when I graduated. That was how I was able to start my own interior decorating business.”

  “Lucky you,” Corey said bitte
rly. “I had to account for every tank of gas or month’s rent I spent. I didn’t think I’d spent a lot of extra money, just a round of beers once in a while. But a guy’s got to have a little fun.”

  “So you were allowed to manage your own money, Patti?” I asked.

  “Well, yes and no. I had my own checking account and always entered what I spent the money for in a Quicken file that I emailed to Aunt Agnes. She kept watch on it and she always moved more money into the account when I needed some. I just had to ask her for it.”

  “Lucky you,” Corey repeated. “I had to beg that asshole, Rolly, for mine. He always whined that I was spending too much and I had to spell out what I needed money for before he’d give me some. And it was supposed to be my own trust fund!”

  “I’m confused,” I said, sipping my coffee. “Patti, I thought you told me earlier that Agnes paid for both your and Corey’s college expenses.”

  “I did say that,” Patti agreed. “And I’m pretty sure it is true. But she always called it our trust fund. I assumed she meant that she put money into it and trusted me to spend it wisely. She never had kids of her own, you know. So she loved to mother Corey and me.”

  Corey snorted and gulped his cola. “We were practically grown up by then and didn’t need no mother. I think it was probably money from our parents that she didn’t tell us about sooner. Maybe they designated it for our education or something. So she didn’t want us to spend it for anything else.”

  That fit with what Harold had told me, but I couldn’t be sure his opinion was reliable.

  Patti frowned and flipped back her long blond hair. “Where did you get a crazy idea like that? I never heard of anything like that.”

  Corey shrugged and his forehead scrunched as he tried to remember. “I don’t know. Maybe it was something Rolly said on the phone one time or something like that.”

  I glanced at Patti. “Well, you’ve been talking to Rolly, haven’t you? Why don’t you ask him? As her lawyer, he should know. Wouldn’t he have done her taxes?”