“True,” Kevin said. “But you’re grinning. What else?”
“She wants to use some of the money to pay for Ida Mae’s stay at Shady Aspens, whatever the insurance doesn’t cover.”
“That’s great,” Kevin said. “I bet that’ll be a load off Ida Mae’s mind.”
“A huge load. She has some money, but she wanted to use it to go pick up Ren from his mission.”
“So, about Ren,” Kevin asked slowly, twirling his burrito in the bottom of the dressing cup. “Just what’s up with him?”
“I don’t know,” Eden answered truthfully. She hadn’t heard from Ren in a long time—at least three weeks—and his last few letters had sounded distant and businesslike. “He’s my best friend. Beyond that, I don’t know.”
“I’m having a lot of fun with you, Eden. This last week has been . . . incredible. Very strange, but incredible. I’d like to keep seeing you, if you don’t think Ren would mind too much.”
She concentrated on her second and last burrito, hoping her face didn’t betray the confusion and elation battling it out inside her. True, she could do a whole lot worse than Kevin. But she didn’t have the slightest idea how she could even begin to compare him to Ren.
19
Early Monday afternoon, with her obituaries sent, her ads edited, and all her other tasks done, Eden leaned back in her chair and ransacked her memory for that one little thing that kept eluding her. Finally she had it, and she sprang out of her chair and into the adjoining cubicle.
“That blonde woman at the house across the street from Dr. Brent’s was lying to us.”
Kevin looked up at her, clearly lost in his story. “What?”
“She told us she’s hardly ever home, right? That Saturday is her only day off?”
“Right.”
“And she said she was working the day Dr. Brent was killed.”
“And?”
“Dr. Brent was killed on a Saturday. I forgot that little fact because we didn’t find her until Monday, but the murder actually took place on Saturday.”
Kevin stroked his chin. “Maybe the neighbor traded shifts with someone. Maybe she usually has Saturdays off, but on that particular Saturday, she was working.”
“Let’s go find out.”
Kevin looked at his watch. “Right now?”
“I’m done for the day.”
“Well, I’m not. Give me fifteen minutes. Besides, she won’t be home. She works all the time, remember?”
“We’ll leave her a note.”
Eden sat at her desk and drafted another scene in her mystery novel while waiting for Kevin. She didn’t know if his article was particularly detailed or if he was just struggling to pull it together, but it was nearly twenty minutes before he said he was ready to go. Not that she was watching the clock or anything.
“I just need to return this to Mr. Cooper’s office.” He held up a file.
“We’ll do that on the way out.”
They wove through the cubicles toward the exit, veering right as the hallway turned. Mr. Cooper’s door was open, his back to them as he spoke with someone on the phone.
“I’m not going to tell Kevin yet,” he said. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Eden’s eyes flicked to Kevin, who had a puzzled look on his face.
“Should we knock?” she whispered, and Kevin replied by rapping on the doorframe.
Mr. Cooper turned and saw them standing there, said a hasty farewell, and hung up the phone. “Kevin,” he said, sounding uncomfortable.
“What’s going on, Mr. Cooper?” Kevin asked. “That sounded pretty serious. Didn’t mean to eavesdrop—your door was open.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Mr. Cooper looked even more rumpled than usual. “I guess you’re wondering about that, huh?”
“Yes, sir, I am. What didn’t you want to tell me? Unless you’re keeping something from some other Kevin.”
Mr. Cooper passed a hand over his face. “No, I meant you. Listen, can I take you out to dinner tonight or something? Talk things over?”
“If you don’t mind, if I’m about to be fired or something, I’d just as soon talk about it now and get it over with.”
Mr. Cooper nodded. “All right.”
Eden took a step backward. “This is probably a private conversation. Would you like me to go?”
“Thank you, Eden. I appreciate it,” Mr. Cooper said.
“Kevin, should I wait, or run that errand alone?” Eden asked.
“Um, why don’t you go ahead? I’ll call you later.”
She nodded and stepped out of the office, pulling the door closed behind her. She really wanted to stay and find out what was going on, but it was plainly none of her business. She hoped Kevin wasn’t getting fired—he was one of the best reporters they’d ever had at the Sentinel, and she’d miss him, besides.
Eden parked her car in front of the blonde’s house and scribbled a quick note, asking for a return call. She walked up to the house, fully expecting to find no one home, and planned just to stick the note in the mailbox. But as she approached the door, the uncurtained window gave her a clear view of the living room, and she gasped. The entire room was bare. No furniture, no rugs, no pictures on the walls—the room had been stripped. She moved along the porch, peering into the kitchen. Nothing—no table, no chairs. It was completely empty.
“Are you interested in the house?” called a voice from behind her. She whirled, trying not to look as guilty as she felt. An elderly woman stood on the sidewalk, holding the leash of a frisky little dog that looked like it could take off Eden’s toes in one long series of nibbles.
“Yes,” she said. “I am.”
“You could probably get it for a song right now,” the woman said. “The previous renter just packed up on Saturday and lit out. Not a word to anyone.”
“Saturday?” Eden asked. “Just two days ago?”
“That’s right, and the owner—that’s Mr. MacIntosh, in case you want to get hold of him—was over this morning and said there’s over a thousand dollars’ worth of repairs he’s going to have to do before he can rent it out again. If you’re interested, I bet he’d cut you a deal on it.”
Eden pretended to look thoughtful. “It is a very cute little house.”
“It’s darling, when it’s kept up right,” the woman said. “Why don’t you give Mr. MacIntosh a call? He’s in the book, I’m sure. Now, I can’t remember his first name, but he lives on that street that turns into the dead end by the canal. Let’s see, what is the name of that street . . .”
Eden waited for a minute, wishing the woman would just spit it out so she could be on her way, but she realized she had to let the wheels of the mind turn at their own speed.
“Wendall,” the elderly woman said at last.
“He lives on Wendall Street?” Eden asked.
“No, his first name is Wendall. Wendall MacIntosh. Give him a call and tell him Little Bit o’ Fluff sent you.”
“I’m sorry—what?”
“Tell him Little Bit o’ Fluff told you to call.”
Even with the repetition, her request made no sense.
“That’s the dog.” The woman pointed downward. “My name is Roxie, but everyone knows my dog better than they know me.”
Eden smiled. “Oh, all right. I’ll be sure to pass along your . . . or rather, your dog’s message.”
Roxie was on her way, Little Bit o’ Fluff dragging behind, obviously wanting to stay and play. Or nibble. Eden wrote down Mr. MacIntosh’s name—and the dog’s—before stepping off the porch, fearing she’d forget both of them in the very strangeness of the moment. She’d have to go looking for a phone book, but first she wanted to check on Ida Mae. And why hadn’t Kevin called her yet?
Eden adjusted her wig before getting out of her car in the Shady Aspens parking lot. She’d put it on a couple of blocks away, not wanting anyone to see her going from brunette to blonde in such a startling fashion, but it had shifted a bit on the dr
ive over. After making sure the tresses properly framed her face, she grabbed her purse and locked the door.
Ida Mae was in her room, resting up before dinner. Eden pulled a chair next to the bed and shared everything she’d learned in the last couple of days, then relayed Peggy’s offer to pay for any part of the Shady Aspens’ bill that Ida Mae’s insurance didn’t pick up.
“That is a relief,” Ida Mae said. “I’m expecting the bill to be a doozy.”
“From what I understand, Peggy will be in a position to take care of it, so don’t let it worry you.”
“And you’re totally certain we shouldn’t suspect Peggy in the murder?”
“I don’t see why we would. She asked us to investigate when the police were ready to close the case. If she had anything to do with this, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
They spent a minute discussing Beverly’s medical chart. Eden had wanted to get over to the care center the day before, but her Church calling in the nursery wore her totally out, and she’d taken a badly needed nap before working her midnight-to-six shift at the grocery store, where she stocked shelves on weekends. Someday she was going to have just one job that would pay enough.
“No history of heart problems,” Eden mused, reading over the notes Ida Mae had taken. “Don’t people sometimes die of heart failure out of the blue?”
“They do, but Beverly didn’t even have hypertension,” Ida Mae said. “I think it’s a red flag.”
“It could be,” Eden agreed. She checked her phone, wondering if she’d accidentally set it to vibrate. Where was Kevin?
He finally called about fifteen minutes later. “I need to talk to you,” he said almost simultaneously with her request for a meeting.
“How about Burger King?” she suggested. “I’m at Shady Aspens right now.”
“Sounds great. I can be there in ten minutes.”
“See you then.”
She turned back to Ida Mae. “Kevin wants me to go meet him, and I need to tell him about the disappearing blonde woman. Your nurse will come and help you into your chair?”
“Yes, but she doesn’t need to push me anymore.” Ida Mae pointed to her new contraption. “That thing really goes when it has a mind to. I can probably hit five miles an hour on tile.”
“Well, don’t get yourself pulled over,” Eden teased. “You know what Ricky Shelton would say.”
“Ricky didn’t put in for re-election this year,” Ida Mae told her. “He said we totally ruined it for him.”
“Poor Ricky. Maybe you should run in the next election, Ida Mae. You’d make a great sheriff.”
“No, not me. I have better things to do than pull people over for speeding. I’ve got two murders to solve.”
Eden laughed. “Yes, you do. I’ll go and let you get back to it.”
“You first,” Kevin said as he slid into the booth across from Eden. “Mine will probably take a little longer to tell.”
“Okay,” she agreed, not wanting to wait another minute to hear his story, but knowing hers was pretty good too. “The blonde cleared out her house and moved without telling anyone, including her landlord.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. All the furniture, everything, gone. You know what this means.”
“This means she knows something about the murder.”
“Exactly. Why else would she up and leave like that? I don’t think it could be a coincidence. I saw the inside of her living room while we were talking to her—not a box in sight. If she was already planning to move that day, you’d think she’d have a couple of boxes sitting around, ready to go.”
“So we scared her off.”
“Apparently so.”
Kevin played with his straw for a minute, pulling it up and down until it made an annoying squeak against the plastic lid. “Sorry,” he said, pushing the cup to the side. “So, do we have any idea who this woman is?”
Eden recounted her conversation with Little Bit o’ Fluff’s owner. “So I need to get the number for Wendall MacIntosh and give him a call.”
“Who would give their dog such a horrible name?” Kevin asked with a grimace.
“I guess you’d have to meet Roxie.” Eden picked up her sandwich and took a big bite, eyeing Kevin over the top of it. He was quiet and didn’t do more than pick at his food. Finally, unable to stand the suspense, she asked, “What happened, Kevin? Did you lose your job, or what?”
“You remember how I told you I was raised by a single mother?”
“Yes.” He didn’t continue right away, so Eden’s imagination took over. “Nothing’s wrong with your mother, I hope.”
“No, she’s fine.” Kevin picked up a French fry, turned it over, then set it down again. “Mr. Cooper . . . well, Mr. Cooper’s my father.”
Eden nearly dropped her sandwich. “What?”
Kevin sighed. “Yeah, he’s my father. He didn’t realize it until after he hired me, but he noticed my eyes are just like my mother’s. She wasn’t going by the same last name—she took her mother’s maiden name and that’s what she put on my birth certificate—so Mr. Cooper didn’t make the connection right away. But apparently he put two and two together, and then he called my mom from the emergency contact number in my file, and found out the truth.”
“How long has he known?” Eden asked. “And when was he going to tell you?”
“I think he’s known for about six months,” Kevin replied. “And I don’t know if he was ever going to tell me. If we hadn’t walked in on his phone conversation . . . that was my mother he was talking to, by the way.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Eden couldn’t imagine what it would be like to grow up completely without a father and then to meet him years later.
“I asked him why he was never around while I was growing up, and he said he didn’t know about me,” Kevin said. “I guess my mother decided not to tell him. They were lovers in college, and when he transferred to go to another school, she kissed him goodbye and that was the end of it.”
“But how did he guess you were his son?” Eden asked. “I mean, you have your mother’s eyes, but that doesn’t seem like enough evidence.”
“Well, I remember he asked me one day about my family, and I told him I didn’t have a father. My mom’s always been really open about her life before she joined the Church. I guess she wanted to use her experiences as a cautionary tale for me. I told Mr. Cooper my mom got pregnant in college and I guess that tipped him off—and the fact that she’s got a really unusual first name. She kept it, even when she changed her last name.”
“What is your mother’s name?” Eden asked.
“Rain.”
They sat in silence for a minute, Eden thinking the puzzle over. Now Kevin knew who his father was. She wondered if that would make a difference in his life, or if he and his father would go their separate ways now. You never knew with these unexpected reunions.
“I guess that explains why he’s always been so nice to you,” she said at length.
Kevin laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. I have gotten away with murder from time to time, haven’t I?”
“So, what are you going to do with this information?” she asked. “Do you think you’ll have a relationship with him?”
“We’re both pretty much in shock,” he said. “It’s probably a little harder for him, though. I knew I had a father out there somewhere, but he had no idea he had a son. Still, he had six months to get used to the idea before facing me, so maybe it’ll be all right.”
The awkwardness of the revelation passed, and Kevin ate his food and Eden finished hers. She was contemplating getting a refill on her drink when Kevin’s cell phone rang.
“Sorry,” he said to Eden a moment later. “A story’s breaking downtown and I need to go. Call you later?”
“Sure. And I’ll let you know what Wendall says about his rental house.”
Kevin stood up, then paused, looking down at Eden. He bent over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “T
hanks for listening,” he said, then walked out the door.
Eden stopped at Blockbuster on her way home. She had an uncharacteristic night off, and she had planned to ask Kevin to hang out with her, but his phone call put an end to that idea. She was a little disappointed, but she’d rent a movie both she and her grandma would like, and they’d have a nice evening. Ida Mae was apparently going to see another flick with George, who had the same trouble with his wig Eden had with hers, so they’d all be enjoying themselves that night.
She wandered up and down the rows of the video store, looking for something romantic but not cheesy. Her eyes fell on Sense and Sensibility, and she snatched up the last copy before some other Austenaholic came along and got to it first. Feeling triumphant, she picked up a box of Good & Plenty on her way to the checkout.
She got back to the apartment at a quarter to seven and grabbed the phone book, wanting to give Mr. MacIntosh a call before it got any later. She found him easily enough and dialed the number, but got his answering machine. Eden left a quick message, wondering how long it would take him to call her back.
“What’s better than Colin Firth in a top hat?” she asked her grandmother.
“The gift of life?” Arlette replied. “And not much else.”
“Well, how about Colonel Brandon?” Eden held up the DVD case.
“Next best thing.”
20
“I’m coming to the care center with you,” Eden called out to her grandmother the next morning. “I don’t have to go in to work until noon.”
“Have you been able to get that rat’s nest out of your wig?” Arlette asked.
“What rat’s nest?” Eden picked up her wig, turned it around, and spotted a big snarl in the back. “Oh, I see it now.” She gently picked out the mess and hoped she hadn’t ruined the hair follicles or whatever it was that kept those millions of little strands in place.
Dearly Departed Page 14