"Didn't you ever have a chuckle over a good healthy fart?"
"Certainly not,” Theo said.
Hearing scrambling in the back of the van, Sadie looked in the rearview mirror. “What are you doing here?"
Belly made his way to the front of the vehicle, trying to keep his balance although the ruts in the road made it difficult.
"You just went through a red light,” Theo shouted, looking back at a man who gestured with his middle finger.
"I know,” Sadie said.
"You could have killed somebody."
Belly rolled onto his side and stared at Theo.
"Your dog should be kept on a leash. Then he wouldn't pester your guests or go where he's not wanted.” Theo braced his body as Sadie turned sharply causing the van to veer to the left. “Please keep your eyes on the road. That's a perfect example of why your dog should stay at home. He's distracting you."
"He's not my dog."
Holding his hands up at the futility of the conversation, Theo said, “Have you ever met any other death coaches?"
"Not really,” Sadie said. “Just the one who trained me. Why?"
"I wonder if the experience of living with another death coach would have been as unorthodox."
"Probably,” Sadie said. “You might have gotten a death coach who didn't give a rat's ass about you. Or worse yet, you wouldn't have the pleasure of my company."
"I'm truly damned then, aren't I? It's like one of those dreaded court cases-the kind where you're damned if it's assigned to you or you're damned if it isn't. There's always that need to control the outcome versus curiosity. Be glad you're not a judge."
Sadie turned the van into a narrow tree-lined drive and edged into the woods until the van was hidden by the lush greenery. She eased the door open and climbed down.
"I'd make a good judge. I've always wanted to wear one of those long robes. Just think of the things I could wear under them. Or not."
"Spare me the lurid details.” Theo grabbed the back of her shirt to stop her progress before she walked toward a clearing adjacent to the Fossums’ yard. “How do you know nobody's in there?"
"You don't see any cars in the driveway, do you?” She pushed Theo's hand out of the way. “The Fossums have neighbors on the other side of the bushes, but they have a separate driveway.” She looked back over her shoulder. “A good judge would have known that."
"I don't know the first thing about the Fossum's property, but I do know breaking and entering is against the law.” Theo watched Sadie cup her hands over her eyes and peer through the front door.
"Nobody home,” Sadie said under her breath. “I don't see any movement.” She pressed the latch on the brass handle with her thumb, but the catch didn't release.
Theo followed her around the porch to the back door. The results were the same.
"Let's try a few windows,” she said.
Theo ran his fingers along the wooden frame, attempting to find an indentation where his fingers could leverage the panel upward. The first four windows refused to budge. On the fifth attempt, the panel gave way and he forced it open. “I don't think I can fit through there. Are you willing to give it a try?"
Sadie placed her foot into Theo's cupped hand and pulled herself up. She placed a leg through the opening. “There's a shelf or some kind of board under the window.” She wriggled in through the opening.
One thud and then another echoed from the dark opening. Sadie whispered, “I knocked a couple cans off the shelf. This must be their pantry.” She felt along the wall for a light switch.
A light flooded the room. Theo looked through the window. “Are you all right?"
"I'm right here,” Sadie said, coming up behind Theo. He jerked upright and screamed.
Catching his breath, he rasped in anger, “Don't do that. You startled me."
"Sorry. I thought you might want to come in through the front door. And take that stupid suit coat off. You look ridiculous."
"I look ridiculous?” Theo said. “I'm not the one wearing a mini skirt and a halter top. It's not me who's exposing a sagging abdomen with a tattoo of a worm."
"That's an asp,” Sadie said. “Like the one that caused Cleopatra's death. I love that story, don't you?"
"I hadn't given it much thought. That tattoo actually looks more like a shriveled up worm."
Staring at Theo with her mouth askew, Sadie said, “My asp isn't any more shriveled up than your balls."
"My balls, Madam, are about as important to me as the Ides of March were to Caesar."
Opening her mouth to reply, Sadie paused, took a deep breath, and said, “I don't get it."
"I didn't expect you to."
Sadie closed the front door behind them and pointed toward an opening. “That must be his office. I see file cabinets."
Theo sat at the desk while Sadie rifled through a stack of papers on Richard's desk. “Where did Tim say the key was hidden?"
"Under a horse statue."
"There's got to be twenty horse statues in here.” Theo scanned the shelves and pedestals featuring Richard's collection. “You start there and I'll take this side of the room.” Theo began by lifting the smaller pieces of art. Leaning one of the larger bronze statues against his chest, a key dangling from a felt pad tumbled to the floor. “ Eureka!"
Placing the key in the middle desk drawer, Theo pulled it open and ran his hands through the shallow drawer. He repeated the process with two more drawers. He inserted the key into a deeper bottom drawer and unlocked it.
"This might be it.” He pulled a hard-bound checkbook from the drawer and placed it on the desk. He lifted a stack of folders and separated them into two piles. Pushing one pile toward Sadie, he said, “You start with this and I'll see what's in the checkbook."
Sadie opened the first folder and paged through the contents. The folder held several letters with envelopes stapled to the back of each piece of correspondence. “These are all addressed to Gessal Life Insurance at a Minneapolis address.” Paging deeper, Sadie said, “Here's one from Mrs. Fading Sun."
"Who?"
"Mrs. Fading Sun. She lives in Pinecone Landing. Her husband died about six months ago.” As she finished reading the letter, Sadie said, “This is a letter of complaint. Apparently she thought her husband had signed a $100,000 life insurance policy. But when he died, she got a check for $10,000.” Sadie turned the letter over and tapped it with her fingers. “It looks like this letter was a second request. Here she says she previously asked for a copy of the original application, but never received one."
Theo held out a check. “Look at this. Here's a check written to Fading Sun for three thousand dollars. He's got a note clipped to it indicating it's the return of premium payments. The check's signed by Richard Fossum."
Sadie held up several more letters. “These are complaints, too."
"Give me their names,” Theo said. He laid several checks on the desk's surface.
As Sadie read the names, Theo turned the checks over one by one. “There's a check here matching each of the letters in your hand. There are also envelopes with stamps on them. I believe Richard was getting ready to mail refunds to these people."
Opening another folder, Sadie whistled. “Looks like somebody's been making duplicate applications. Here's the original signed copy, and here's the one that actually got turned in.” She pointed to the line indicating the dollar amount. “The original application says one-hundred-thousand dollars. The copy says ten thousand dollars. These polices were altered."
Sadie looked up in disbelief. “On this original policy it says to send the payments to a post office box in Minneapolis."
"And look at the insurance agent's signature,” Theo said. “Paul Brinks. Gessal Life Insurance."