The Obituary Society (15 page)

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Authors: Jessica L. Randall

BOOK: The Obituary Society
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Chapter 21

Intruders

 

             

“Hello?  Hello?  Is this working?  Can you hear me?”  Matilda's voice nearly deafened Lila. 


She can hear you;  You don't need to speak so loud,”  Ada's voice whispered urgently in the background.  “Someone else might hear you.”


It's Lila.  I can hear you.  Is this Matilda?”
“Yes.  I'm calling from my new cellular phone.  I'm not sure it's working.  It's so tiny, and my mouth doesn't even reach the speaker.  Are you sure you can hear me?”
Lila pulled the phone away from her ear.  “Yes.  I can definitely hear you.  What can I do for you?”


Well, we didn't want to bother you, dear.  Ada said you were resting.” 

As far as Ada was concerned, Lila
was
resting.  Ada had hardly let her out of bed since the incident at the house, so as soon as Ada went out this evening, Lila put on work clothes.  She wasn't ready to go inside the old house yet, but there was plenty to do outside, although there was not as much daylight left as she would have liked. 


You're not bothering me.”


You're a sweet girl.  Lila, we got ourselves into a bit of a situation.  We need help.  Can you come to Edwards and Whiting Law office?  Just come around back and . . . be as quiet as you can.  That means you'll have to take Gladys's car.”


But what's—.”


The key's under the floor mat.  Please hurry.”


Matilda?” 

There was no answer.  Lila shoved the phone into her jeans pocket and threw the rake into the large pile of withered leaves.  She ran down the road and heaved the door of the Cadillac open.  The key was easy to find.  She drove toward town well over the speed limit, trying not to think about what mischief the ladies had gotten themselves into. 

It was almost dusk when Lila pulled around the block and parked the car.  She squinted,  looking for any sign of trouble.  Matilda's car blocked the narrow alleyway behind the building. 

Lila hurried out of the car and down the alley.  At first, the scene that came into view baffled her.  Something like a rumpled giraffe with a swollen head stood by the old brick building.  As her brain sorted out the reality of the situation she blinked, and her mouth fell open.

“We're so glad you've come,”  Matilda said, hurrying up to her.  “I told them not to go through with it.  It's not right.”


We need help here.” Gladys grunted, squirming uncomfortably on all fours.  “Leona isn't as tiny as she looks.”

Leona stomped a foot on Gladys's back.  “I heard that!”  The muffled voice came from inside the law office.  Her denim backside and legs, and her tiny Easy Spirit shoes were all that could be seen of Leona.

“We thought it would be simple for her to climb in through the window,” Ada said, wringing her hands.  “She's the smallest, and besides, it was her idea.”

Matilda cut in.  “But the window slid down, and now she's stuck.  Heaven help us.”

Betsy Barker came crunching through the alleyway, riding a tricycle scooter-style.  Lila winced as she noticed Betsy's red heels twisting unsteadily on the loose gravel.

Ada's eyes bulged.  “What on earth did you do, Betsy?  Steal a trike out from under a five year old?”


It's all I could find.  I'll put it back.”  Betsy lowered her voice.  “I don't see you coming up with any ideas.” 

Lila pushed her questions aside and took the trike, then set it down beside Gladys.  Betsy tapped her foot, craning her neck to make sure no one was watching.  Lila climbed up, struggling to keep her balance on the tiny seat and hoping that it didn't roll away.  She pushed the old, heavy window upwards as hard as she could.  It squeaked and scooted half an inch.

“There we go,” Leona said eagerly.  “You've almost got it.”

One more push and Leona wiggled her bottom from side to side.  “She's done it.  I'm free.”

Lila put her arms around Leona's waist and helped her out of the window.  As soon as she stepped down, Gladys whistled.  “Phew.  I thought my back was going to give out.” 


Now for explanations,” Lila said.  She wasn't accustomed to being on this end of things with Ada.

Ada looked sheepish.  “We needed to find out what really happened to Clint.”

“And if it had anything to do with you,”  Leona added.  Ada gave her a look and she clamped her mouth shut.

Lila was impatient.  “Why would Clint's death have anything to do with me?”

“It probably doesn't,” Ada said.  “You told us he wanted to meet with you.  That makes you one of his next appointments, albeit unofficially.  The sheriff won't tell us anything.  So we wanted to look through his files and his appointment book for anything strange.”

Lila stared, wide-eyed.  “You think Clint is dead because someone didn't want me to meet with him?  That's crazy.”

Leona stepped forward.  “No one told her about the calcium.  Remember how Clint had an excess of calcium in his system?  Betsy gurgled it on the internet.”

Betsy rolled her eyes and corrected her.  “Googled.”

“And that means?” Lila asked.


Apparently, calcium can be used to force a heart attack,” Gladys explained, her voice calm.  “There was a needle mark, with a bruise, as if it wasn't very carefully inserted.  We think someone injected Clint with calcium so everyone would assume he'd had a heart attack.”   

Lila was speechless a moment.  She made a mental note to look it up later herself.  “I want to know what happened to Clint too, but this seems like a stretch.  Is there any way I could convince you to all go home?” she asked without hope.

Ada tipped her nose and set her jaw, and Lila knew it was a stand-off.  “We've come this far;  We're not leaving until we at least try.”


Fine,” Lila said.  “But I'm going in.”


How will you know what to look for?” Ada asked.


Believe it or not, I've seen 'Murder She Wrote' too,”  Lila said.  “I'll be Angela Lansbury with a cell.”  She pulled her phone out and waved it.  “I'll take pics.”


See?  She's good.  I told you we should have brought her along,” Leona whispered. 

Lila stepped on the trike seat again and hoisted herself up until she was teetering over the windowsill.  She wriggled forward, wincing at the thought that she might share Leona's fate if the old window didn't hold.  Finally she pulled her legs through.  She fell forward, barely stretching her arms out in time to keep her head from hitting the floor.

“Now she's gone and given herself another concussion.  I knew we shouldn't have involved her,” said Ada.

Lila took a breath and righted herself.  She peeked out the window.  “I'm fine, Ada.  Just calm down and keep quiet.  I'd rather not end up in jail.  There would be no one left to represent us.”  If they were caught, Asher would probably never speak to her again.

“Wait.  Here.”  Leona passed a mini-flashlight through the window. 

It was nearly dark inside the office.  Lila clicked on the light and passed the beam around the musty office.  The space was orderly, like Ashers', but there were personal effects on the shelves and desks.  There were several photographs, most of which featured a grinning Clint with his arm wrapped around someone.  She jumped when the light fell upon a glass paperweight that magnified a giant scorpion lurking inside.  There was even a pair of antlers hanging on the wall.  The furniture was large but elegantly shaped, and trimmed with metal studs.  She didn't have to know Clint well to see the office represented him;  the perfect mix of friendly cowboy and professional gentleman.

Lila's stomach was a tangled ball of electric nerves, this being her first break-in.  The floor creaked, protesting like an ornery old man who had just caught her in his flower bed.  Lila jumped, almost dropping the flashlight.  Having an actual theory about Clint's death made her pause to examine every dark corner and strangely shaped shadow.  Alone here in this place, the idea that someone had murdered Clint seemed more real than ever. 

Shaking her head, Lila scolded herself.  She didn't really expect to find anything here, but she had to appease the Society women, or they'd never give up.  She shone the light around until it fell on a filing cabinet in the back corner.  She pulled on a drawer.  It was locked.  Clint must have been a trusting man, though.  It took less than a minute to find the key stuck under a notebook in his desk drawer. 

Lila unlocked the top drawer and began flipping through the folders, releasing the scent of aged paper.  She chuckled as she thought again about how different the situation would be if this town had chosen to enter the twenty-first century.  She wouldn't have been able to hack a computer by herself, but file folders she could handle. 

She recognized a few of the names.  Edward Barker was in the first drawer.  The file had information about a couple of disagreements, including the lane ownership dispute with Lou Wilson.  Nothing suggested the argument was anything too heated or uncommon.

When she reached the “M's” she couldn't help searching for Isaac Moore.  His file contained information about his will, most of which she was familiar with.  There was also an altercation with David Foster, dated 1992, two years before both of them left.  It mentioned a domestic situation involving assault and battery, in which Isaac had interfered.  Apparently Isaac had hired Clint as his defense attorney, but the charges were dropped.  Lila held the flashlight in her teeth and snapped a picture of the documents.   

Ever since Asher had mentioned David's disappearance, she'd assumed Isaac and David must have been involved in something together.  But now she realized the two of them probably never got along well enough to collaborate on anything.  Did David hurt Aunt Ada?  That would explain Grandpa's reluctance to talk about him. 

Ada didn't seem like the kind of woman who would put up with that, but Lila remembered what her grandpa told her about David's condition after the war.  Ada was proud, but also compassionate.  Lila was more curious than ever about what had happened the night Grandpa Isaac left town.

In the bottom of the folder she spotted a yellow square;  It was a post-it note that had fallen off.  She picked it up.  Scrawled in black ink were the words, “Meet with Lila about possible unknown assets.”

So that's what Clint wanted to meet with her about.  What did that mean?  Most likely she would never know.  Although it was probably time she asked Ada a few questions.

She searched the bottom drawer for the name “Snyder,” but there was no file there.  Had it been removed?  Asher was handling Carl's case, but surely as Senior Partner, Clint would have some information filed away.  Lila hated to admit it, but maybe the ladies were onto something.  Of course, breaking into a law office to get information wouldn't have even occurred to Lila.  What had they done to her?

Lila stood and stretched out her aching knees.  She shut the filing cabinet and crept to the desk, trying to shake the feeling that at any moment, someone would flip the light on and discover her.

She rifled through the contents of the desk.  Mostly, it contained half-empty containers of Certs and handwritten notes.  Nothing looked very important, and there was no schedule book.

“This is ridiculous,” she said to herself suddenly.


What?” a voice whispered from outside.  “Are you finished?”

Lila went to the window.  “Yes . . . wait.”

The ladies bobbed their heads over the windowsill, trying to see what was going on inside.


Shhh.”  Lila placed her finger over her lips, then walked across the room and through the door.

Now that she was in the main part of the office, and could see the windows that faced the street, she clicked off the flashlight.  Streetlights provided just enough light for her to make her way around.  She walked slowly, her eyes still adjusting to the semi-dark.

Asher's office was right next to Clint's.  She slipped in, then clicked the beam back on.  There was a small commotion from outside, and a clattering sound that she was sure was the dragging of a tricycle across gravel. 

Ten or fifteen minutes must have passed since she climbed in the window.  She was caught up in the thrill of discovery, and almost felt invincible now. 

Asher had made a lot of effort to get to know her, and he had shared some intimate history with her.  Still, she couldn't dislodge a nagging thought that there was something more to him, something he hadn't told her.  He flashed that winning smile all too quickly any time a conflict came his way, but every so often she glimpsed of someone else hiding behind it.   

She flashed the beam around the room, and was disappointed to find it as immaculate as she had always seen it.  Unlike Clint's office, there was a computer on Asher's desk, but Lila didn't have the technical savvy that would make it useful to her.  She turned it on, but after fifteen rounds of guess-the-password, she finally gave up.

The doors to the large cabinet were locked, as were the desk drawers.  Apparently Asher was not as trusting as Clint.  She couldn't help but wonder if he was hiding something, or if there was someone he didn't trust.  Then she laughed at herself, and the thought of the old gang waiting outside.  It was probably a good decision on his part. 

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