Snow Blind - Lori G. Armstrong [109]
“You all done with this case, then?”
“I’m not sure. I definitely need to regroup.”
“I wish you luck.”
Her shoulders slumped as she cleared the dishes from the little table. Even her sassy hairbow drooped. Guess she thought I’d gotten what I’d needed and wouldn’t be back, which made me feel like a heel. But she’s right, isn’t she?
Yes, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t change. I wanted to change. Besides, hadn’t I been bitching about having too much free time in my off hours? I genuinely liked Reva and suspected she and I were more alike than either of us knew. God knew I could use a wise woman in my life.
“You kicking me to the curb, Reva? Because I was hoping the next time I stopped by you’d crack that bottle of Jack Daniels instead of serving me that shitty tasting tea.”
Her lips quirked. “Such a potty mouth.”
387
“I’ve heard librarians have seriously creative language once you get them drunk. They start throwing out words like lugubrious and verisimilitude and get into fistfights about the misuse of the Dewey decimal system. ” I fixed her bow. “Let’s test that theory. How about a week from Wednesday? Sevenish? You can tell me about your bad boy and I’ll tell you about mine?”
“Sounds like a deal.”
“Until then, try to stay out of trouble, spy girl. And if you can’t be good, have fun being bad.”
388
On the way back across town, I’d come up with a couple different scenarios.
Vernon Sloane had given Luella paperwork for safekeeping. No-brainer what kind of documents he wanted hidden from his snoopy granddaughter. Legal documents, like a new will.
By requiring a copy of a will to be filed on-site, Bradley Boner knew exactly how much each resident was worth. He knew who had heirs and who didn’t. It was like a fucking treasure map. Encouraging seniors to gift their entire bank accounts to the Prime Time Friends organization. In exchange for a cheap plaque on the wall in the common area?
I’d hoped Luella wasn’t in on it, but courting Vernon Sloane for a five-million-dollar donation to Prime Time Friends would be a huge coup for her. 389
I smoked, my brain playing ring-around-the-rosy with the possibilities.
Then the truth smacked me upside the head.
Luella was hiding the latest will as a bargaining chip. She could blackmail Amery, demanding a large chunk of the five million, or else she’d turn over Vernon’s newly inked will, and Amery would get nothing. If Vernon had written a new will, wouldn’t the attorney’s office have a copy? Yes. But would a lawyer even let a man with dementia write a new will? Probably not. Which meant Vernon might not have used an attorney. There were plenty of those “create-a-will”
kits, and I’d think an old folks’ home would be a perfect place to find them, which would also explain why Luella hadn’t come forth with the other will yet. Luella wouldn’t be that naïve, threatening a murderer, would she? If Amery killed her grandfather for money, she wouldn’t hesitate to kill Luella. How could I prove it?
I couldn’t.
My other get-Amery-to-confess idea was just as lame, but still an option I’d have to fine-tune. I flipped on my computer and ran a records search on Beth McClanahan, narrowing the age scan to ten years. Then I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. A catnap would revive me. Why was I so damn tired all the time? Unfortunately, I hadn’t devoted my nighttime hours to sextracurricular activities with Martinez.
390
My cell phone rang. I was disappointed when TM
didn’t pop up on the caller ID.
“Hey, Brittney.”
“I can’t believe you told her!”
“Told who what?”
“My mom. You told her that stuff I said to you in confidence, and now look what you did. I knew I shoulda listened to him about not trusting you.”
Him who? Dad probably. At least Trish was trying to rectify her mistakes. I didn’t respond, feeling stung she’d automatically jumped in to accuse me of wrongdoing.
Brittney babbled in the awkward silence. “Mom came in my room last night and started asking me all these embarrassing questions about the hired man.”
Her voice turned churlish.