Her Last Letter

by Nancy C. Johnson

  “Well, that was a good idea,” she said sarcastically.

  I studied Caroline’s face. She looked normal now, but I was tempted to mention how awful she’d looked a few moments before. I decided against it. “Did you get a chance to ask Nate about the detective?”

  “Yes, I did. He said he’d look into it. Gwyn, you can’t keep doing stuff like this. I told you-you’re scaring me. It’s way, way too dangerous. Promise me you’ll stop. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “And let me in. It’s freezing out here.”

  “Sorry, forgot.”

  Nate came out ten minutes later and put his face to the window. “No signs of anyone now, except for old footprints near the back door and in the drive. Those could be mine or one of the other guys. We’ve been coming by to check every so often. We’re taking a closer look at those.”

  “Well, I saw someone. Thanks for getting here so fast, Nate.”

  “Sure. And don’t worry. We’ll catch him eventually. And there’s a good chance he’ll decide things are getting too hot around here and move on.”

  I turned to Caroline, then again to Nate. “That does it. I’m selling the house. I’ve had enough of this. I’ll tell Trevor to put a sign up tomorrow.”

  The following day, Trevor, Nate, Caroline and I met at the house. Trevor wanted to take inventory before putting the house on the market, make note of some minor fix-ups that might improve its resale value. Care brought Nate along to check things out before we entered-just in case.

  I’d also talked to Linda, who agreed immediately to the sale, and assured me that neither she nor Wolfgang had been by the house the previous evening.

  I held Annabelle in my arms and followed Trevor as he listed items that needed repair. The puppy, making all the right political moves, had campaigned and won Trevor over, wiggling and running in circles on his arrival last night, acting as though Trevor were an old and valued constituent. Unfortunately, I suspected that Annabelle had mistaken Trevor for Josh, returning for a visit.

  “It needs paint,” I said, gazing at the kitchen walls and cabinets.

  “This house needs a lot of things, carpeting, curtains, counter tops. But it’s salvageable,” he said.

  Just then, Nate walked in, joining me and Trevor. “I have to go on another call. Caroline wants to stay. That okay?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Where is she?”

  “Upstairs.”

  “I’ll go find her.”

  Trevor grabbed his coat and began to follow Nate out the door.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “Outside. I want to inspect the exterior of the house.”

  I found Caroline standing in Kelly’s old bedroom, the one Linda, Kelly and I had shared as kids.

  “Strange, isn’t it?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “Being here.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I wish I didn’t have to sell the house. I really don’t want to. You’ll probably think I’m crazy, but sometimes when I’m alone here, I swear I can feel her presence.” I glanced sidelong at her. “Not like a ghostly presence, just her essence, I suppose. Somehow, it’s still here. And a lot of memories are connected to this house, most of them good.”

  She nodded. “I don’t think you’re crazy. She is here. I can feel it too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  I sighed. “But I guess I should sell it. Linda wants to, and all this trouble.… And I don’t like the idea of anyone else in here, some vagrant taking advantage. Kelly wouldn’t like it either. I guess it’s best. Get a new family in here. Bring some life back into the place. It might be nice to drive by and see kids playing in the yard again. You think so?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  The front door slammed and Trevor shouted up the stairs. “Hey, you two, get down here. I want to show you something.”

  We ran down the stairs and followed Trevor outside to a spot next to the window of my father’s little room.

  “Maybe I should join the police force part-time,” he said. “Watch this.” Carefully, he eased his fingernail into the edge of one of the four glass panes just below the mid-point of the window. With a flick of his finger, the pane dropped into his hand. “There’s no caulk around this pane. Someone used gum or something to stick it back in place. But as you can see, it’s easy to dislodge.”

  “Nate probably couldn’t see that last night,” said Caroline.

  “After that,” Trevor said, “it’s just a matter of reaching in and releasing the lock. Slide up the window and he’s in. The lights were off in this room.”

  He pointed out the many windowpanes with loose and flaking caulk. “And the walk goes right by the window, so nobody’s going to notice footsteps.”

  “The storm windows are out in the garage,” I said. “It seemed like such a waste of time, putting them on, taking them off.”

  “That would have made it harder,” said Trevor, “but not impossible. I think this guy was going to find a way in either way.”

  Chapter 17

  “You’re sure you want to talk about this here?” asked Caroline. She’d quit work early, and was seated near me at a table in the far corner of the bar at the Wild River Grill.

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Well, once I’m off my shift all I want to do is get the hell out of here. And someone could come over and interrupt us. I’m a magnet for all the drunks and deadbeats.”

  On this Wednesday night, the Wild River was packed, shouts and laughter arising from every table. A mechanical bull-riding contest was underway, the action of the evening.

  “What did you tell Trevor?” she asked.

  “He’s working late. I told him you wanted to get together-girl stuff. He believed me. Why wouldn’t he? And he can call my cell. Doubt if he will though.”

  “She said she’d be here by seven. She knows the place, though I guess she’s only been in here once before.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “The name she gave me is Sue. Something tells me it’s not her given name though. Nate says she’s good at what she does.”

  “Any reason he picked a woman?”

  “Don’t know. Maybe he’s worried I’ll get interested if I hang around another guy too much.”

  “I thought you told him the detective was for one of your customers?”

  “Yeah, but I’m not sure he believed me. Hey, I have no idea why he picked a woman. If you don’t like her, I can-”

  “No, it doesn’t make any difference to me. Actually, it might be better. I’m just a little nervous about all this, that’s all.”

  “I think it’s cool that I get to meet her,” said Caroline.

  “Well, of course you should meet her. My story will be that she’s a friend of yours, in case Trevor sees us together. That okay?”

  “No prob’.”

  “You want to get something to eat?” I asked. “I’m not hungry, but you must be.”

  “I was just about to suggest that. Maybe some ribs and chicken. How’s that sound?”

  “As good as anything. Order a salad too. That might be all I can eat.”

  “Done.”

  Caroline stuck two fingers in her mouth and let go a shrill whistle. All heads in the immediate vicinity turned in her direction. She hooked her finger at a waitress. “Hey, Vicki. When you get a minute.”

  By seven, we’d finished the salad and ribs and were licking our fingers. As it turned out, I was hungrier than I thought. I kept watching the door, not sure what this detective would look like. Caroline had described the exact location of our table to her, along with an imprecise description of each of us.

  “I wonder how old she is?” I said.

  Caroline shrugged. “Let’s guess, and then ask her.”

  “I’m not doing that. Don’t do that.”

  “I was kidding. Boy, you are a bundle of nerves.”

  “You got that right.”

 
A large group came through the door, but scattered and found tables. “Where is she?” I said. “It’s five minutes after seven according to that clock.”

  Caroline shook her head. “That’s bar time. That clock runs fast. Check your watch.”

  “Hi,” said a voice just behind me. “Caroline?”

  I looked up to see a straight-haired blonde of medium height, decked out in a cowboy hat, cowboy boots, jeans, and a beaded denim shirt. She wore a tan and sunglasses, though the sun had gone down a while ago. I guessed her to be in her early to mid-thirties.

  “That would be me,” said Caroline.

  The woman thrust out her hand, ringless, but on her wrist she wore a beaded bracelet. “I’m Sue,” she said with a mild southern accent. “Mind if I join y’all?”

  “Please do,” said Caroline, giving Sue’s hand a shake.

  I jumped up and pulled out a chair for her. “We were just talking about you.”

  “I know. I’ve been sitting over there for the last twenty minutes.” She pointed to a table not far from us near the wall. “Got here a little early, and I was hungry so I grabbed a bite. Good barbecue here.”

  “Sure is,” said Caroline.

  She smiled. “So, my first question is, will I be working for you, Caroline? I’m assuming not, since you brought a friend. And your name would be?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Gwyn.”

  “Nice to meet you, Gwyn.”

  Caroline scooted her chair closer to the table and leaned in. “Nate didn’t tell me a whole lot about you.”

  “No, probably not. I’m sort of a friend of a friend of his-once removed. I’ve never met Nate in person.”

  “Actually, I have a question for you,” said Caroline. “Before we begin, I need to know if you’ll have to tell Nate who your client is. Would that be necessary?”

  “No. Can’t think of any reason for that at the moment. Course, he might ask.”

  “But, you wouldn’t-”

  “It’s none of his business.”

  “Good.”

  Caroline looked at me and dipped her head, prompting me to speak.

  “I would be the client,” I said.

  “I assumed so,” she said. “Do you want to talk here?”

  “Well, I don’t know.”

  “Not too private.”

  I looked from detective Sue back to Caroline, then back to Sue. “Caroline’s my best friend. I’d trust her with my life, if that’s what you mean.”

  “No, just kind of noisy in here.” She idly glanced back toward the mechanical bull. I followed her gaze and watched as a yelping girl slid off its rear.

  Caroline stood up. “I need to use the washroom for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  Sue smiled, then turned to me once Caroline walked away. “Not trying to be rude to your friend, but I can’t just assume you’re ready to talk money and contracts in front of your buddies.”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “What I have is a standard agreement. I’ll give you a copy. Nothing fancy, no frills. I try to give folks a fair deal. I do require a retainer to get started, and of course, details on what you hope to accomplish. I don’t think this is the best place to talk about that. If I got a handle on what y’all were saying earlier, then I suppose others might be able to also.”

  “You could hear us?”

  “Yes and no. But for the most part, yes. I believe Caroline made some remark about asking my age, and you objected.”

  “You heard that?”

  She smiled. “Sort of. I’m not telepathic. Though sometimes … I wonder.”

  I looked around at the people sitting nearest to us. None seemed to be paying any attention. “We were joking. I mean, Caroline was joking … about asking your age. She’s not-”

  She held up her hand. “Don’t worry. I thought it was funny. I almost laughed out loud. And I’m not quick to take offense, or to make hasty judgments. I wouldn’t last in this business if I did. I’d like to talk to you tonight for a few minutes, if that’s possible, so we don’t waste each other’s time. But I can’t talk in front of your friend. I’m sure she’s all that you say she is, but it’s not the way I do business.”

  “Okay. Where do you want to go?”

  “How about my van. What windows it has are tinted, and nobody’s going to hear us in there.”

  “I’ll just tell Caroline we’re leaving.”

  “Sure.”

  Her van was parked a block away on a side street with minimal traffic. The minivan looked fairly ordinary, white, and was due for a wash. I noticed the windows were tinted a dark black, except for the driver’s and passenger’s, which were a lighter black tint.

  She unlocked the doors and let me in. The passenger compartment appeared like any other, and was clean and organized. The only personal items were a box of tissues and another pair of sunglasses on the floor. I looked toward the back of the van, but couldn’t make out a thing. Light shielding curtains covered the windows. I did get the feeling that whatever equipment she carried back there wouldn’t be found in your average family van.

  She reached behind her seat and grabbed a black briefcase, then punched in a code that released the lock. She pulled out a single document printed on white paper.

  “This is my contract. You can read it over if you like, but you don’t have to sign anything now. Unless you’re in a big rush. Like I said, it’s fairly standard in the trade, and my rates are in line with other good P.I.s.”

  “I’m not worried about the money.”

  “Well, that’s always good news. How soon did you want me to start?”

  “As soon as possible. Is that a problem?”

  “No, no problem.”

  I took a deep breath, then let it go. “Whatever I tell you … I mean ... I guess what I’m trying to say is … I need to know if I can count on you not to involve the police, if it turns out …” I hesitated, thinking. “Are you a cop? Were you ever on the police force?”

  “No, I’m not a cop, though I was interested-well no, I wasn’t-to tell you the truth. I’d rather work on my own. But I know people, a lot of people, who are officers of the law, and they don’t mind helping me out now and then, and that goes both ways.” She stopped, waiting for me to respond.

  “I don’t want you to do anything illegal,” I said, “or to do anything illegal myself. I guess what I’m trying to say is that if you do uncover something, could you at least tell me first before you go to the police with the information?”

  She finally took off her sunglasses, and I could see that she looked quite young for her age. She wore no makeup, but wasn’t unattractive, clear tanned skin coupled with light blue eyes and blonde lashes.

  “I can’t promise anything until you give me a clue as to what you expect me to do.”

  “Okay, that’s fair. Sorry. Two things, essentially. I want to find the guy who murdered my sister, and I want to know if my husband is cheating on me.”

  She nodded her head. “I know about your sister. Awful thing. Sorry. I know they’re still looking for the guy…. So, you want me to try and flush this creep out, and you want me to find out what your husband is up to, if anything.”

  “Yes, basically that’s it,” I said, then looked down at my hands.

  “But not everything.”

  “No, that’s about it.”

  “Gwyn, the more information you give me up front, the better I’ll be able to help you. I can’t guarantee anything if you leave stuff out. Believe me, I’ve heard it all. Nothing shocks me. But it’s your dime. However you want to play it.” She gave me a half smile. “Why don’t you look over my contract, think about it, then get back to me. I will say this. I don’t go out of my way to hurt people or to mess up their lives. You can trust me there. I’ll do everything in my power to help you, within reason.”

  Afterwards, I walked back toward the Wild River where my Jeep was parked. I wasn’t ready to be alone, or to go home to an empty house. I pulled out my cell phone
and dialed Caroline.

  “Hey,” she said, “how did it go?”

  “Good. We talked a little. I have her contract. I like her. I think I’ll hire her.”

  “Great. So where are you now?”

  “Walking back to my car.”

  “You going home? Do you want to stop by?”

  “I kind of would like to stop by.”

  “Then come on over. I cleaned up the place, and no one’s even seen it yet. I figured maybe you and that detective might want to meet here. Hate to waste a clean apartment on just myself. I’ll make us coffee.”

  “Okay. I’ll bring dessert.”

  “Super.”

  I could feel my spirits lift as soon as I stopped by the grocery and picked out chocolate ice cream and home-baked sugar cookies. As I mounted the stairs to Caroline’s second story apartment, I caught a whiff of freshly brewing coffee. She’d left the door ajar, but I gave it a knock anyway.

  “Come on in,” she yelled out.

  Her one bedroom apartment was spacious, the way apartments used to be built years ago, with full country kitchens and large bathrooms. The building itself housed ten units, and was over forty years old.

  Caroline sat watching television, knees curled beneath her on the L-shaped couch. She picked up the television remote and clicked off the set as I walked over.

  “What’d you bring?” she asked, rising.

  “Ice cream and cookies. Your place looks great,” I said.

  “Yeah, took me two days. I would have hired a Jiffy maid, but I would have been embarrassed to let her see it. You use those guys, don’t you?”

  “Once in a while. Trevor doesn’t like strangers in the house. I need to be there.”

  “He thinks they’ll steal something?”

  “No, I think he’s worried they’ll break something, or scratch something.”

  We settled onto the couch with our ice cream and cookies. Later, after second helpings and extra cups of coffee, I drew out the contract and pushed it toward Caroline.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “My contract.”

  “Ooo, I want to see.” She snatched the paper from my hand and began to peruse it.

  “I didn’t tell her everything,” I said. “She knew right away I was hiding something. I suppose I’ll have to fill her in eventually.”