Cremains of the Day

by Misty Simon

  Unfortunately, those were questions no one seemed to have answers for. This dinner receipt only intensified my curiosity. Zooming home was probably not my best idea, but I didn’t have another one.

  I zipped into my parking spot at the funeral home and was halfway up the steps when someone grabbed my arm. I turned with a yell and the start of a well-aimed kick when I realized it was Max who had ahold of me.

  “You scared the crap out of me!” I did not drop my foot just yet.

  “And you tore out of that house like a bat out of hell, if we’re trading clichés.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “I could have sworn you were going to come back out and talk with me to discuss what you were able to find out at your ex-husband’s house.”

  A door opened downstairs, and I put my finger to my lips to shush him as I dropped my foot to the carpet. I motioned with my head for him to follow me, then shook off the tingles his hand made race up and down my arm. Now was certainly not the time to remember I was a woman and he a man.

  I shooed him in front of me, then hustled up to the third-floor landing, just as my mom called from below.

  “I have a few things to do upstairs, Mom!” I yelled down. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”

  Not that I could keep my mom away for an indefinite amount of time. Nor was I doing anything I shouldn’t. But since Max was the first man to come to my apartment since I’d moved in, I didn’t want the added questions of who he was and what he was doing there. I still didn’t know if he’d even told Jeremy he was here. I hadn’t made the time to ask, with all the information coming at me.

  Unlocking the door, I motioned Max to walk in ahead of me. Had I cleaned up this morning before I’d left? At this point I couldn’t do anything about it. He’d either deal with the mess or run screaming. Either would be fine with me.

  Although the running might have been better. The receipt was positively burning a hole in my pocket. But I didn’t know yet if I trusted Max enough to show it to him.

  He took a seat on the couch, sprawling in a way that I’d have no choice but to touch some part of him if I sat there too. Instead, I grabbed a chair from the kitchen and sat in the middle of the living area.

  A chuckle was his only reaction. It was enough that I wanted to move my chair further away, like into the hallway. One phone call from me and Max would be run out of town. Just one. As tempting as that was, this tax cheating, and even more worrying, the embezzling, would certainly bite me in the butt if I didn’t find out where the money was. And if I didn’t find out where the money was, I was going to do something much worse than just shock Waldo in the man parts. I’d rip the damn thing off with a hot pair of tongs.

  “So, what made you run out of the house?” Max focused all his considerable energy on me, making a tingle hit me low in the gut.

  Yeah, not happening.

  I cleared my throat. “First I want to know if Jeremy knows you’re here.”

  He cleared his throat. “I hadn’t wanted to tell him until I knew more about the situation, so the answer is no.”

  “Why all the secrecy?”

  “Well, Tallie, this isn’t exactly the kind of news you can go around yelling until you have proof. I thought it would be better to wait until I had something.” He shook his head. “Your brother and I have kept in contact, but I’ve never dropped by. I thought I’d be able to stay out of sight. But Darla’s death is a game-changer.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” I conceded. Although it still left me with reservations and questions. “I’m not sure I should share anything with you until I know what exactly you plan to do when you find the money. Am I going to be dragged into this screaming and kicking?”

  “I’ll be honest with you. Probably. If the business made the money while you were still married, then the potential is there for you to also be liable. I’m not going to lie, if that’s what you expected.”

  I didn’t know what to expect. Knowing I might get a whopper of a tax bill, however, and possibly be tied to embezzlement, made me want to run for my small bathroom and retch. How could Waldo do this to me?

  I scoffed at myself. It wasn’t as if it was the only thing he’d ever done, even if it was the worst.

  “And there’s no way for me to protect myself?”

  “You can swear you had no idea and they will take it into consideration for the embezzlement. The taxes are a different matter. The business is in your name and the fine for those is a whopper. The best thing you can do is find the money to take a dent out of what’s going to be owed in the long run.”

  “Well, shit.”

  “No truer words.”

  I glanced over at him to see if he was being real with me or pulling me along. Was he really an investigator, or had he caught wind of the money somehow and wanted me to find it, then he’d take it from me? And I couldn’t shake the fact that he had been at almost every incident since this had all started. He could have easily stunned Waldo, then grabbed his big funeral arrangement and met me at the door of the funeral parlor claiming he’d gotten lost in a town he had lived in until he was fifteen.

  But then I shook my head. Why would he go to such elaborate lengths? Not only that, but I had heard Jeremy talk about him over the years in passing. He definitely had some sort of high-paying job having to do with taxes. I just had never known the specifics or cared enough to ask.

  Wouldn’t my mother have a field day if I set my sights on another high-dollar beau?

  That too was off the table. I had no intention of getting mixed up with anyone of the male persuasion for a very long time. At the moment, I had a ton of other things on my plate that had nothing to do with Max’s smile or the way his dark hair had a tiny wave above his left eyebrow.

  Moving back to our conversation, I cleared my throat and my head of inappropriate thoughts. “Okay, so I can’t protect myself, but I can buy some time if I can get Waldo to tell me where this money is.”

  “That’s about the gist of it.”

  “And tell me again why you fought so hard for this assignment?” I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him my best beady-eyed stare. I wanted the real reason.

  “I heard through the grapevine something was going down around here. When I found out it involved the girl who used to tag along, hoping her brother would treat her as an equal instead of a sidekick, I thought it would be a good time to cancel my vacation and take a look.”

  I wanted to believe him despite my skeptical side. “There has to be more. You could be on some island being served by cabana girls.” Did they have cabana girls? Gina and I only ever talked about cabana boys, but I supposed this was an equal-opportunity world.

  He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose: A familiar gesture now for when I exasperated him. “Look, the other part is that your mom and dad treated me like one of their own before I was shipped off to live with my grandmother in D.C. Can we just leave it at that?” He looked up, and I couldn’t deny the little tingle that went to my gut and parts further along the road to my toes.

  I’d let it go. For now. He might have scared me with his heavy-handed tactics and his scowls, but in the big picture it appeared he was trying to help me. And if he stepped out of line, my parents, who had been nice to him, could be equally vindictive if the case warranted. Hurting their little girl would definitely warrant. My mom might be on me about leaving Waldo, but I’d never told her the whole story and had let her believe that I just was unhappy. Maybe I should have been more honest about the whole thing. At the time, though, I just wanted out and done. Now I was being dragged back in.

  “When are you going to let Jeremy know you’re in town?”

  “He’s next on the list. I wanted to talk to you first and see if you wanted me to tell him you’re in trouble, or if you’d rather, we could keep it between ourselves.”

  So the man actually thought I was capable of making that kind of decision? Would wonders never cease?

  I got up to pace. “I’d rather not tell them rig
ht now. Long story, but suffice it to say that if they know, they’ll take a hammer to Waldo. They’d also make me start working more hours at the funeral home in anticipation of the fall. Not to mention my mother will be crawling all over me about how I either should have divorced Waldo sooner, or should have stayed with him so I would have access to all that money. I’m not sure which would be worse.”

  He cracked a smile, and I melted just a little, like chocolate in the late-afternoon sun. Not a good sign.

  Clearing my throat, I sat down on the chair again. “So how do we go about getting Waldo to tell me where the money is? I guarantee you, he is not going to believe I want to help him after all the animosity between us.”

  I dug a hand into my pocket so he didn’t see it had become a fist. I encountered the crinkled receipt and figured if we were in this together then I should tell him about the piece of evidence I had removed. At least since he was on my side, he wouldn’t put me in jail. Or so I hoped.

  Walking over to the small dining table, I put it on the polished surface and smoothed it out. The other paper, the one from the Bean, came with it. I’d thought it was my list of houses, but it turned out to be something else entirely.

  He was behind me before I could call him, and the feel of his soft breath on the side of my neck sent little spasms to my fingertips. He was my brother’s friend, and while he might be here to save me, I was not going to get involved with a bean counter. Maybe next time I’d look for a blue-collar worker with hands that had calluses and a tough exterior with a heart of gold, instead of my usual slick guy who turned out to be more slime than slick. Not that Max was probably slime, but one never knew.

  “What do you have here?” he asked at my shoulder. I forced myself to take a step away, circling the table until we were facing each other.

  “This one,” I said, pointing to the receipt, “is a receipt that I found in Waldo’s pants pockets, the ones he was wearing when he was attacked. If you’ll notice the order, someone got a baked potato with blue-cheese dressing on it.”

  “That does not sound appetizing at all.”

  “I agree, and gagged when she asked for it at our house during a dinner party.”

  His head snapped up. “And who is she?”

  “The only person I know who has ever desecrated a spud like that was Darla. But Waldo hated Darla, so I can’t fathom why they would have been out to dinner together.”

  His expression sharpened. “I can think of a few, especially since this was only two nights before she was killed.” His gaze moved on to the other paper. “Is this a threat?” He used one long, index finger to turn the paper toward him, and I had no excuse for the flutter that shot through me. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

  “That I haven’t had a chance to look at since I thought it was my own list, but I’d say Meet me at eight or you’ll regret it. BTDT back might just be a threat.” The writing was in a thick black marker, scrawled across what looked like the bottom of an invoice of some sort. There was a total at the bottom and light blue lines making boxes, yet no address, no account number, no identifying information. But someone had spent over a thousand dollars on something.

  “If only we knew who this came from,” I grumbled.

  “Yeah, that would make things easier and leads me to my next thing. You need to get into Waldo’s house and get him talking. Your life might depend on it. I know your livelihood does. I’ve got your back, I promise. How can I convince you that this might be our best chance?”

  I huffed out a sigh. I didn’t know the answer to his question, but I did know I was going to have to be nice to Waldo. Which I hated because he always ended up smarmy. The bastard. The bastard with my money and my flimsy financial security in some well-secured place. Yeah, I could do this. Even if I had to make him dinner or clean the house.

  * * *

  In the end, I wound up back at Waldo’s, realizing he must be the one at all of Darla’s parties who couldn’t aim worth a damn. It was oh-so-tempting to yell to him that three inches wasn’t too much to keep in his hand, but I was here snooping and didn’t want to get thrown out before I found something worthwhile.

  I’d walked Max down to Jeremy’s office, telling my brother I’d found Max out in the parking lot. Fortunately, my mom never had called to see what I was doing for so long upstairs, nor had she come to check on me and found a man in my apartment. Not that Mom would have been mad about a man in my apartment. On the contrary, she would have been jumping for joy and trolling the Internet for china patterns. But this way was much easier and avoided all kinds of conflict.

  I had walked right into Waldo’s, using the key from outside and telling him he needed his sheets changed and his house spruced up before he went to bed that night. Instead, I checked the medicine cabinet but found nothing unusual. Nose-hair trimmer, vats of hair gel, waxing kit for those eyebrows that just wouldn’t stop growing. Waldo was a groomer’s wet dream and proud of it.

  Nothing was hidden in the linen closet and nothing but dust bunnies resided under the bed. He still refused to make the bed, and it was curious to see that, even in a king-size bed, only half had been slept in. My side was perfectly preserved. Part of me wondered if there was something significant about that. The other part didn’t give a rat’s ass.

  His study was down to the left and I trespassed there next, wiping a quick cloth over the surfaces. Not my usual stellar job, but enough that he’d notice, and I’d still have time to look around. As quietly as possible, I opened each desk drawer, looking for some sort of ledger or a checkbook for an account, something that would indicate where the money was. Of course, I hadn’t ruled out the possibility that he’d stuffed the cash in his mattress. I’d bounced on the thing before pulling the covers tight, just in case. I’d found nothing.

  And I found nothing when I made my way to the bathroom, either. Part of me wanted to take that nose-hair trimmer out into the living room where he was lounging and offer to jam it in his ear if he didn’t tell me where the money was. Then again, that was counterproductive to what I was trying to do. Subtle was supposed to be my middle name, according to Max.

  Standing in the middle of the study, I caught my reflection in the mirror over Waldo’s custom bar and saw the faint flush on my cheeks. I would not think about Max and color up at the same time. It was not going to happen. Beyond the fact that I wasn’t ready, he lived in D.C. and I was staying here to open my business. If I wasn’t leeched by back taxes first.

  Thinking of those taxes and the missing gobs of money sent me to check behind the picture of Waldo’s mother that hung on the far wall. He had a safe there and had probably been too lazy to change the combination. It was worth trying.

  I had my hand on the edge of the frame when I heard the intercom crackle to life.

  “Tallie, I need a glass of orange juice to take these pills with. I’ll be waiting in the sitting room.”

  The temptation to yell down the hall was incredible. However, I remembered the money and decided I’d better be on my best behavior. This was the only time I was going to open the refrigerator. If he wanted a meal, he would need a takeout menu.

  Glass in hand and snooping eyes still peeled, I walked it in to him, where he sat in a recliner with his house shoes on and a set of pajamas I’d never seen before. Maybe he’d gone shopping since I’d left him. He’d never shopped for himself in the whole of our marriage, though. Most likely his mother had purchased them....

  “If you don’t need anything else, I’m probably going to head out. I need to call Darren to see if he needs my help before the funeral.”

  “Funeral?” Waldo craned around in his chair to rest his blue-eyed gaze on me.

  “Oh . . . um . . . yeah, Darla passed away this morning. Didn’t anyone tell you?” I’d run earlier before we could have that conversation, I realized.

  “No, no one told me,” he said almost absently with a small crooking of the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t quite a smile, but I’d seen that look before when he’d g
otten something he’d wanted for a while and wasn’t willing to show how much he’d wanted it. But did it mean he’d paid someone to kill her, or that he was just pleased she was gone?

  “You don’t seem too upset,” I said, fluffing a pillow so as not to face him. I didn’t want to seem too curious.

  “You and I both know Darla and I have not engaged in a civil conversation in years. She had more money than she knew what to do with and not enough brains to know there was a difference between a left shoe and a right shoe without that maid of hers.”

  I opened my mouth to ask why he’d taken the woman in question out to dinner, then decided against it. Instead I said, “You’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead.”

  “When have you known me to follow the rules?”

  “True, but it’s still not nice. She just died this morning. Whether or not you liked her you should at least feel sorry for Darren.” The pillow was as fluffed as it was going to get, and I couldn’t stay turned from him and read that body language Max had been talking about earlier. The night was incredibly dark outside the bay window. Glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner, I realized it was nine. I wanted dinner and then bed, in that order. This day felt like it had gone on forever.

  Max. I needed to remember I was on a mission. Digging subtly had never been my forte, dammit. I was going to have to try, or I’d have to come back and wash his car or something to get more information.

  “I’m sure Darren is relieved,” Waldo continued with no prompting from me. “He’d come to me about a divorce a few weeks ago. I told him it wasn’t worth it when you have to lose half of what you earned to some female who hadn’t done more than sit on her ass.”

  Oh, now that was going way too far. I hadn’t taken half of anything, barely walking out with enough to cover moving expense in my haste to get the hell away from this odious man. My hand clenched at my hip, but I held my tongue.