"I seem to remember another client having the same problem,” Nan said. “He thought his wife's policy was for more than he actually received. He was sure he'd paid premiums for a larger death benefit.” Uneasiness gnawed at Nan as she recalled her conversation with the man. “He couldn't find any copies of the papers he'd signed, either."
"I thought my payments were awfully high for the small death benefit I got,” Mrs. Fading Sun admitted. “Rather than make a fuss, I let it drop. I didn't want people thinking I was greedy. And I certainly didn't want them knowing I was cash poor."
Mrs. Fading Sun folded the paid invoice and tucked it in her purse. “Let me give you a hug,” she said. “I couldn't have made it through this without your guidance."
Nan ushered her to the door. “What was the name of the life insurance company?"
Pausing, Mrs. Fading Sun said, “If I remember right, it was called Gessal Life Insurance. I sent the premium checks to an address in Minneapolis."
As Nan closed the lobby door and secured the lock, Aanders came up behind her.
"I'm going over to Sadie's for a while."
"Okay. But I'm disappointed you told Mrs. Fading Sun about the accident. You know that's private information and isn't supposed to be released to the public. You could get me in trouble. You know you're not supposed to read my files."
"I didn't, Mom,” Aanders said.
"The fact that Lon thinks it might have been murder isn't common knowledge. You must have taken a peek at that folder."
"No. I didn't. I know I'm not supposed to do that.” Seeing his mother's skepticism, he repeated, “I swear I didn't look at it, Mom. I must have heard it somewhere."
Angry, yet bewildered at the look on Aanders’ face, Nan decided to let it go. The finality of easing her son through his friend's death was more important.
15
Sadie removed a new lipstick tube from its wrapper and twisted the stick into view. “What about this one? Do you like this color?” She dabbed the tip on the back of her hand and held it out for Jane to see.
"That's nice,” Jane said.
"What do you mean, that's nice? You didn't even take your eyes off the ironing board long enough to see it. I could have had poop on my hand and you'd say ‘that's nice'."
"It's too hot to look at lipstick.” Jane turned the cotton dish towel over and ironed the back side. She matched the corners before folding the fabric and running the iron across the top of the last fold.
"I would think looking at lipstick is a lot cooler than ironing.” Sadie balled her fists and placed them on her hips. “Any nitwit would know that."
"How would you know? You never iron.” Jane cocked her head and glared at her sister.
The intense humidity and the intestinal cramping from Jane's latest culinary experiment taxed Sadie's patience. “Your clothes are too big. If they were smaller, I might help."
"My clothes are bigger because I am bigger. Any nitwit would know that.” Jane's smirk signaled satisfaction.
Sadie stood in front of the mirror and applied her new purchase to her lips. Smacking them together and wiping away the excess with her fingernail, she turned to Jane. “Don't you think this makes me look younger?"
"No,” Jane answered. “You know who you remind me of in that lipstick? You remind me of Hollywood Johnson. Remember her?"
"What a terrible thing to say,” Sadie said. “She looked like a walking skeleton with that pasty makeup and those huge purple lips."
"E-x-a-c-t-l-y,” Jane said. “Now you know what I think about your lipstick.” She collapsed the ironing board frame and leaned it against the sink.
Sadie used a tissue to remove the color from her lips. She pulled a second tube from her purse and applied it to her pursed lips. “What about this one? This deep violet goes better with my outfit."
"That's even worse. Now you look like Hollywood 's mother."
"Mr. Bakke, take Jane down to the lake and throw her in. Maybe that will change her mood.” Sadie grabbed her neckline and fanned the fabric, forcing air to flow under her shirt.
"Do you actually know someone called Hollywood Johnson?” Theo said as he pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table. “Observing you is like watching a sleazy ‘B’ movie.” He looked at Sadie's hair and then considered the length of her purple and lime mini dress. “Since you've got the staring role in this comedy, I recommend you take that new push-up bra back to the store. Something must be wrong with it. Nobody has breasts that lopsided."
Sadie turned to hurl an insult back at Theo.
Mr. Bakke said, “It's the weather. The sultry air makes Jane testy."
"If Jane wore shorts like the rest of us, she might be more comfortable."
"I wouldn't be caught dead in shorts at my age. And neither should you,” Jane said. “Look at yourself. When you bend over I can see your butt. It looks like you don't have any underwear on."
"I don't,” Sadie said. “Too hot."
"Oh, good Lord,” Theo said with a rasp.
A knock at the screen door interrupted the bickering.
"Are you ready to leave yet?” Aanders said. He crossed the span from the door to the cookie jar in three long strides, allowing the screen door to slam behind him.
Sadie knocked on the door to the inner room and shouted to the crossers. “It's time to go. Get in the van.” She pointed a finger at Aanders. “I'm counting on you to help Tim. He's getting weak. It's your responsibility to see he finds someone on the brink. If he doesn't, he might not find his parents."
"I know,” Aanders answered. “We'll try. When we get back, we need to talk to you. Tim knows why he was held back. He wants me to help him prove it, but I can't do it unless you help, too."
"I'll keep an eye on them,” Lora said as she climbed into the shuttle. “Maybe if they think I'll tattle, they'll try harder."
Rodney jumped in the van, slumped down, and kicked his legs across the aisle, propping his feet on Lora's seat. “Are you going to snitch on me, too?"
"I don't think she's concerned with what you do, Rodney,” Sadie said.
"Yes she is. She has the hots for me."
Michael tapped Sadie on the back. “Do you have to take Belly to the dog doctor?"
Puzzled, Sadie turned around to look at the boy. “What for?"
"You told Mr. Bakke that Belly got his nose bent out of joint. It got bent when you made him go outside because he rolled in rotten fish on the beach. Remember?” Michael put his chin on the back of the seat. “I looked at his nose, but I couldn't tell if it was bent. Maybe you should have the doctor look at it. I want Belly to get better."
"I think you're right,” Sadie said. “I'll take care of that while you're at the nursing home. When you get back, he'll be fine."
"Dumb kid,” Rodney said and leaned his head back on the van's window.
At 5:00 p.m., Sadie returned to the nursing home to gather the crossers. She pulled in under the portico, descended the van's steps, grabbed the no-parking sign, and tugged it down the driveway away from the van.
Theo climbed the van steps and sat in the first seat next to the door. His head swiveled back and forth while Sadie carried on a conversation with the residents under the portico. “What a pitiful situation,” he said when Sadie returned to the driver's seat. “A bunch of old people sitting around waiting to die."
"Would you prefer they waited out on the street?” Sadie shot Theo a ‘you're as dense as a doorknob’ look.
Theo sat with his knees tight together and the briefcase resting on his lap. “I see you failed Humor 101."
"Coming from the master of comedy, that's a pretty strong statement.” Sadie looked toward the portico and tried to see beyond the residents clustered near the doorway.