Page 22 of Penny For Your Thoughts
“It’s scary. One of these days, she’s going to cast a spell on me.”
“Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah. Let me lock up.”
Cloudy from the orgasm and riding a sugar high, we were halfway home before I thought to ask why Diem was late picking me up.
He mumbled something about a meeting but didn’t elaborate, switching gears and relaying details about the case Benaiah Scarrow had presented that morning.
“We’re chatting with his father at the home tomorrow.”
“Wait. Did you say his father’s name is Elwood?”
Diem slowed behind a bus, checked for traffic over his shoulder, and pulled into the other lane to pass it. “Yeah. Why?”
“I met him on Saturday when we were there. He’s peppy for an old guy. I met him in the event room. He was busy chatting with his three online girlfriends while Aaron gave me a tour.”
Diem made a face. “Girlfriends?”
“Yep. Google kindly directed him to a dating app. Christ, D. The man might be intelligent, but he’s a technological disaster waiting to happen. He was practically giddy as he chicken-pecked at the laptop. Someone basically told him the internet was god and had all the answers. All he had to do was ask, and it would tell him anything he wanted to know. So he asked for a girlfriend.”
Instead of laughing, Diem’s face contorted further. “Benaiah mentioned his father had set up online banking. I didn’t think the residence had computer access, and if they did, aren’t they monitoring it? You said he was on a laptop?”
“Yes. He claimed his grandson gave it to him. I’m not sure anyone is monitoring him, D.”
“The grandson is overseas and hasn’t been home in over eight months. Grandpa Elwood’s being taken for a ride. I highly doubt we’re going to get anywhere with this case. The police have basically filed it under Good Fucking Luck. These kinds of things get lumped in with the hundreds of others, and the investigation focuses on the bigger picture and not the individual victims. I told Benaiah that, but he insisted we try. A laptop, huh? We’ll chat with Elwood tomorrow morning. Make some inquiries, poke around, but I don’t know. I doubt we’ll get anywhere.”
“While we’re there tomorrow, I want to see if Nana has any photo albums in her closet.”
“She doesn’t.”
“I just want to check.”
“I moved her stuff in Tallus. Dad didn’t send her albums.”
“Oh.”
“What do you want them for?”
“Doesn’t matter, I guess. Without pictures, the idea is moot.” I couldn’t suggest calling his mother to see if she would put photos together for me. Diem wouldn’t go for it. He had no communication with his parents. On the rare occasions he ran into Leroy Krause at the nursing home, they went out of their way not to speak to one another.
“You’re making too big a deal over this party. Nana won’t know what’s going on.”
“She doesn’t have to understand. It’s a party. She can dance and eat cake and visit with friends. She deserves a good time, D.”
Diem kept his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t hide the strain pulling at the sides of his eyes. Emotions were hard for him. Instead of responding, he reached across the console and weaved our fingers together, holding my hand for the rest of the ride home.
5
Tallus
The following morning, a frigid and dreary Tuesday, we drove together in Diem’s Jeep to Evergreen Estate, arriving shortly after eight. Our meeting with Elwood was scheduled for nine, but Benaiah had told Diem he would meet us earlier.
The few degrees we’d gained on the thermometer were canceled out by the torrent of rain falling in sheets over the city. A bone-deep chill made me shiver, despite the heat pumping from the vents. I wanted summer.
March wasn’t quite spring, but it wasn’t quite winter either. It landed somewhere in between, with the occasional day plummeting below zero, while others boasted heat and sunshine, tricking us into believing we could put away our heavy coats and boots.
Headlights—which the gloomy morning made necessary—glimmered and reflected off wet metallic surfaces and gave the asphalt a glassy sheen. Trees reached their bare branches toward the heavy clouds as if thanking the gods for quenching a thirst.
