by Hillary Avis
Myra’s mention of paperwork reminded Allison of the question that had been festering in the back of her mind all night. “Hey—do you happen to remember Gertrude getting any unusual mail before she died?”
Myra frowned. “Unusual? Like a big package or something?”
“Not a package, just an envelope.”
“Well, if it was an envelope, I wouldn’t know. I don’t open their mail, I just put it in their rooms. Most of the residents here really enjoy opening the mail themselves, and you know anything important like a bill goes to the relatives.”
Allison nodded, thinking of all the bills that had piled up on her kitchen counter over the last couple of years. “I just wondered if you noticed anything different that day. Maybe she said something about it.”
Myra snorted. “Gertrude always had something to say, and most of the time it was nonsense. One time she claimed to be the illegitimate half-sister of Prince Charles, can you believe that? She told me that she was smuggled to Oregon as a baby in 1940, but I looked it up and Queen Elizabeth was only fourteen then, and it was during the war, too. I don’t think she was poppin’ out royal babies and sending them to Remembrance.”
Allison grinned. “Seems a little farfetched.”
“And that’s being nice. Let’s see...what was her story on Monday? Oh, she said she won the lottery. How you going to win the lottery if you don’t buy a ticket?” Myra chuckled.
“She said she won money?” Allison frowned. If the envelope on Gertrude’s dresser contained a winning lottery ticket, that was an excellent reason for someone to try and steal it.
“Her exact words were, ‘I’m filthy stinking rich.’ We all just rolled our eyes, of course, and said, ‘Good for you, Gertrude.’ Why are you asking about this, honey? Are you still worried about Lilian going to jail? Miss Kara over there says not to fuss about it.” Myra lowered her voice and leaned in. “She told me the medical examiner thinks Ms. Gertrude hurt herself by accident. Does that ease your mind?”
Allison nodded, her mind racing. It made perfect sense...Gertrude had won money, somehow. Maybe someone had sent her a lottery ticket in a birthday card, or maybe she’d found a way to enter a contest on her own. Or maybe Gertrude was just the victim of a scam, like the kind where a Nigerian prince promises you eight million dollars if you send him a check for a measly few thousand.
Regardless of whether Gertrude was actually filthy rich or not, she had bragged about it at Golden Gardens on Monday. And even though Myra hadn’t believed her, someone else clearly had. That someone else must have climbed through the open window on Monday night to take the prize for themselves.
“Who was here on Monday? I mean besides the residents?” Allison asked quickly.
“Why do you need to know?” a voice snapped behind her.
Allison whirled around and saw Kara Lee standing there, her hands on her hips.
“Um, no reason. I was just making conversation. I should really go find Pogo. He’s probably getting himself into all kinds of trouble,” Allison added apologetically to Myra. Then, avoiding eye contact with Kara, she patted her thighs and called, “Here, boy! Here, Pogo!”
Pogo bounded out of one of the open bedroom doors toward Allison, and she clapped to encourage him on. “C’mon, buddy!” When he finally reached her, he jumped up into her arms and licked her chin.
Kara grinned and reached out toward the little dog to pet him. Pogo snapped at her, missing her fingers by mere millimeters. She jerked her arm back, her eyes wide with shock. “Control your dog!” she admonished Allison.
Allison wrapped her arms protectively around Pogo. “He is controlled. He’s just worried you have bad intentions because every time he sees you, you’re mad at someone.”
Kara looked taken aback. “I am not!” she said hotly.
Pogo growled softly under his breath and Allison nodded toward him. “See? When you lose your temper near people he cares about, it makes him nervous. He doesn’t trust you—but don’t take it personally. Dogs just react to what you’re doing, not to who you are. I’m sure you’re a very nice person when you’re not yelling at people.”
Allison had meant to be reassuring, but her words seem to have the opposite effect. Kara opened and closed her mouth a few times and then, mumbling expletives to herself, retreated to her post at Lilian’s door. She kept looking over at Allison and shaking her head.
Myra nudged her with her elbow. “Maybe you should apologize.”
“For what? She’s the one who butted in.”
Myra chuckled. “Oh, just because. She’s trying hard to do her job, and it can’t be easy coming into a town like this where everyone is so tight that we practically speak in code. You know how twins do sometimes? That’s us. She’s trying to figure out the code and probably thinking we’re all nuts at this point. A little sorry will go a long way toward keeping her calm, you know we don’t need an agitated cop around here. She could really make our lives miserable.”
Kara Lee already was making her life miserable, with all the secrets Allison had to keep and all the things she wasn’t supposed to know. She couldn’t slip up in front of Kara again—not if she wanted to keep the library safe.
“I feel like I can’t say a darn thing around her,” Allison said.
“All you got to say is sorry.” Myra winked at her and then caught sight of one of the residents reaching for a puzzle on a high shelf across the room and bustled off toward him. “You need help with that, Mr. Simon? Don’t pull that down on top of yourself.”
Allison sighed and gave Pogo a gentle jostle. “Be good this time,” she admonished, and reluctantly headed toward where Kara stood.
“Now what?” Kara asked, her mouth pressed in a firm line. She crossed her arms, clearly bracing herself for the worst, which made Allison feel sheepish. She hadn’t meant to make an enemy—and certainly not an enemy whose mission was to ferret out her own personal secret and had all the resources of a police department behind her.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry, that’s all.” Allison sighed, and Pogo wiggled in her arms.
Kara leaned back against the wall. “Don’t worry about it. I can tell that I need to grow thicker skin if I’m going to make it here. You didn’t do anything wrong, you just expressed an opinion.”
Allison leaned against the wall next to her and stared out at the activity room. “I didn’t do anything right, either. I made you feel judged, and I’m sorry for that. I know it’s not easy fitting into a small town. My parents lived here for forty years and raised their family here, and people were still calling them ‘the couple from North Dakota.’ Once you’re marked as an outsider, it’s tough to shake.”
Kara nodded, self-consciously touching the delicate geometric tattoo that circled her wrist. “Island life is like that too. You can move to Hawaii, but you’ll be a mainlander pretty much forever. It’s not a bad thing, it just feels a little lonely right now—especially when even the dogs don’t like me.” She pursed her lips at Pogo.
“I’m sure you’ll make some friends soon,” Allison said, glad that for once Pogo wasn’t showing his teeth. “Oh, what am I talking about? I’ll be your friend. And I know Myra will be, too—Myra’s friendly with everyone, so if you spend some time with her, your circle will grow really quickly. We should all have brunch sometime.”
Kara’s face brightened. “Really? I’d love that. Let me get your number so we can make plans!” She got out her phone and looked expectantly at Allison.
Allison already regretted her impulsive invitation. What was she thinking, getting closer to the person whom she most wanted to avoid? But Kara’s face was so eager that Allison didn’t have the heart to reject her again. She quickly gave her number and felt her phone buzz in her purse.
“I messaged you so you have mine, too,” Kara said cheerfully, sliding her phone back into its holster on her belt. “This coming weekend, maybe? Sunday?”
“Great!” Allison pasted on a smile. Just great. If Kara was this d
etermined to make brunch plans, she’d be even more of a pit bull about her police investigations. Allison would have to work a whole lot harder to appear ignorant of all the secrets she learned from the memory library. Well, hopefully Myra would be there as a buffer.
She spotted Myra through the kitchen, where she was chatting with Theo in the back hallway while he stuffed the residents’ mailboxes. “Let me go check if Myra is free on Sunday. Sometimes she likes to go to church.”
Kara nodded, and Allison speed-walked away, relieved that the excuse to leave had worked.
Myra watched Allison’s hasty walk toward her with amusement. “Where’s the fire?” she asked when Allison arrived.
“Officer Lee wants to have brunch on Sunday. Are you free?” Allison blinked innocently, but she couldn’t fully hide the fact that she was a little out of breath from her sprint across the room.
“With me?”
“With us. Me and you.” Allison made a motion with her hands that encompassed both of them.
“I said apologize to her, I didn’t say make plans!” Myra chuckled. “Well, it can’t hurt. I’ll make time.”
Allison turned and gave Kara, who was watching them intently, a thumbs-up, and Kara returned the gesture. Allison turned back to Myra. “Thanks. I was a little scared to hang out with her by myself.”
“Aw, Miss Kara’s bark is worse than her bite, I think.” Myra squinted past Allison at something in the activity room.
Allison turned to follow Myra’s gaze and saw Kara had momentarily left her post at Lilian’s door to help Mr. Simon find his reading glasses. “I’m sure you’re right. But when I’m around her, I feel guilty. Like she’s going to catch me doing something wrong or breaking a law I didn’t even know about.” Or like she’s going to find out a secret that I’m sworn to keep and could jeopardize the whole town if she finds out, she added silently.
“It’s the uniform,” Theo piped up beside them. He slipped a catalog into a mailbox and moved down the row. “The utility belt. Even without her gun, it’s hard to see her as a person with all that stuff between her and us regular folks. I’m sure she tells all the same bad jokes, though.”
“Do you want to come to brunch with us on Sunday?” Allison asked, only half joking.
Theo grinned. “I can’t make it—you’re on your own. Oh, hey! That reminds me! Before I space it out”—he reached into his bag and pulled out a few envelopes—“these are for you.” He handed the small stack to Allison. “I wasn’t sure if I should leave your mail at the Ryes & Shine since I noticed the ‘sold’ sign went up. I didn’t want anything important getting lost in the shuffle.”
“Well, aren’t you sweet?” Myra squeezed his arm, and then, nodding to both of them, began making her rounds and checking in on the residents milling around the activity room.
“Get that change-of-address form filled out,” Theo said, shaking his finger at Allison like a stern schoolteacher.
Allison nodded as she glanced through the mail. “I will, thank you.” Then, with a furtive look back over her shoulder to confirm that Kara wasn’t standing behind her, she asked, “Just out of curiosity, do you remember if you delivered anything important to Gertrude Winter last Monday?”
“Monday?” Theo frowned, his forehead creasing beneath his uniform cap. He rubbed the stubble on his chin.
“It was the day Myra gave you some oatmeal-raisin cookies for the kids.”
“Oh, right.” His face smoothed and he reached out and stroked the fur on Pogo’s head. “I remember, this little guy was a big fan of my peanut-butter knees!”
Allison giggled. “Yep. So, any chance you remember what you delivered to Gertrude? Anything out of the ordinary?”
“Just the usual junk mail and letters, I guess. Nothing sticks out.”
“You didn’t notice any return addresses?”
He held open his mail bag so she could the hundreds of envelopes stuffed inside. “This is just a few blocks of mail. I don’t even look at the sender. I’d never get my route finished on time if I checked the return addresses on all of them. And believe me, Shadi knows if I’m a minute late. She’s stuck at home with five kids all day so she can’t get any of her schoolwork done. The second I walk in the door, she hands off the babies and gets on the computer to do her classes.”
Allison was struck with inspiration. “Hey, Shadi should come to brunch with us! I bet she and Kara have a lot in common.”
Theo didn’t reply for a moment, and Allison cringed internally. Maybe she’d said the wrong thing. She hoped Theo hadn’t taken any offense that she’d grouped Shadi and Kara together. It wasn’t because both of them had skin that was a few shades tanner than the average Remembrance resident. She grimaced apologetically and added, “I just meant that they both moved to town without family connections to speak of, and they’re about the same age. It’d probably help Kara out to hear how Shadi handled it.”
Theo smiled, shaking his head. “Sorry—she can’t make it. We’re moving, actually.”
Allison’s jaw dropped. Theo had lived in Remembrance his whole life—all his family and friends were here. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but”—Theo dropped his voice—“we found out from Shadi’s folks that there’s no waitlist for a kidney in Iran. You can just buy one. So I put in my notice with USPS and we’re leaving next week.”
“So soon!?”
Pain flashed across his face. “Ella doesn’t have much time. This is pretty much her last chance, so we have to do it for her, even if it means making some sacrifices.”
Allison’s chest tightened—she knew too well the sacrifices she would make in the same situation—and she grabbed his hand and squeezed. “I’ll be pulling for that little girl to make a full recovery. Stay in touch and let us all know how she’s doing.”
“I’ll be sure to send a postcard.” Theo held up the mail in his other hand and winked. “I better get back to work.”
Allison nodded and let go, standing back to watch him finish up his deliveries. The poor guy had so much on his shoulders. Here she was feeling bad about her own life, but at least her daughter was healthy. And she still had hope that Paul’s brain would heal and remember. She had a safe home in the place she loved, surrounded by friends and family. As difficult as it was, guarding the library was a sacrifice, but it was also a blessing—one she wouldn’t squander.
Chapter 18
Allison sprawled out on the living room floor and put her pen down on the notebook beside her. It rolled off the page, and Pogo pounced on it. Grasping it between his paws, he began gnawing on the end.
“Drop it!” Allison said, laughing, and Pogo obediently released the pen into her grasp. “You’re going to end up with a blue mustache if you chew on that. Go get your bone.”
With a resigned sigh, Pogo got up and trotted into the kitchen to retrieve his rubber chew toy, and Allison went back to her task: figuring out exactly what was in the envelope on top of Gertrude Winter’s bureau. She’d collected several promising books that were now spread out before her on the leafy green carpet. She bent her head over her notebook and recorded their titles, leaving room for notes just like she’d learned back in her high school’s study skills class.
If Allison could find Theo’s memory of delivering Gertrude’s mail in one of these books, she might catch a glimpse of the return address on the envelope. She’d noticed that the memories she read in the books were much more vivid than her own memories. She could reread them to look at every detail, decipher every street sign. It might take her some time to wade through the books, but it’d be worth it if she could find out who sent Gertrude the envelope that was so tempting to her killer.
She cracked open the first book, Important Deliveries. She scanned the first few chapter headings—Anniversary Gifts, Apple Pies, Babies, Birthday Greetings—and groaned. The table of contents was listed by topic, not recipient or delivery person. She’d never find Theo’s memory in this book un
less she knew what was inside the envelope.
Allison set it to the side and crossed it off the list in her notebook. She picked up the next one, Good News. A smile spread across her face when she saw the table of contents was a list of names. But when she checked for “Curtis, Theo” and turned to read the memories, her heart sank. All the memories in the chapter were Theo receiving good news, not delivering it. The book was organized by recipient, and of course, “Winter, Gertrude” was nowhere to be found on the list.
Allison reluctantly scribbled out the book’s title in her notebook. After another hour of similar disappointments, she ran out of books. None of the ones she’d found showed mail delivery from a postal carrier’s point of view. She stared at her list, now just a swath of blue ink. Where were Theo’s memories of delivering mail?
She stacked up the discarded books and sat back on her haunches, thinking. Maybe Theo’s memories of his route weren’t stored under “mail” or “envelopes,” but under “work” or “daily grind” or something more general like that. Dusting off her knees, Allison stood and began re-shelving the volumes where she’d found them on one of the bookcases nearest the foyer.
Of course, even if she located Theo’s memories of delivering mail, it’d be near impossible to sift through them to find a single envelope, especially if it didn’t stand out to Theo in some way. Allison’s shoulders sagged at the thought of the thousands of return addresses she’d have to check in his memories. It was a shame that nobody else had witnessed the letter being delivered or being opened. But Myra said the residents usually opened the mail in their rooms.
Allison nearly dropped the book she was “shelving” under the sofa. Of course, someone else might have witnessed Gertrude opening her mail! Lilian hated leaving her room, so she might very well have seen what was inside the envelope.
She grabbed her notebook and looked over the list of titles again, squinting to make out the words behind her blue scratch marks. Good News. That was it. She hadn’t even thought to check for Lilian’s name in the table of contents, but there it was. Hale, Lilian — page 147.