Alice sighed, shook her head, and flipped the page of the scrapbook. “One day at a time, I guess.”
“Want some lunch?” Mary said.
Alice said nothing, just studied a picture in the scrapbook even more closely.
“How about I whip up a rump roast?” Mary said, heading to the kitchen. “Or a butt steak. Butt steak sound good?”
“When did you first realize you enjoyed abusing the elderly?” Alice said.
“I don’t actually enjoy it,” Mary called from the kitchen. “It’s really more of a calling.”
Alice wheeled herself closer to the kitchen so neither one had to shout.
Mary took the box of Mac ‘n Cheese from the cupboard and ripped it open. “So I thought I’d start by searing some foie gras,” she said, then set a pot of water on the stove to boil. She set the dried pasta and packet of cheese on the counter. Mary detested Mac ‘n Cheese, had had it maybe twice in her whole life when she was a kid and went to a friend’s house — it was never served in her own.
Mary had tried in vain to convince Aunt Alice to let her make real macaroni and cheese, the old fashioned way with good cheese and really good pasta, but Aunt Alice insisted on the boxed crap for lunch. Old people just get into routines, Mary told herself when she finally gave up. They fall into routines, then they fall down stairs. It’s all a part of nature’s aging process. All part of God’s master plan.
“Don’t forget my vitamin,” Alice said.
Mary tipped a shot of Crown Royal into a small glass, added an ice cube and a splash of water, then brought it to Alice. Her aunt lifted the glass. “To Brent.”
Mary clinked an imaginary glass. “To Uncle Brent.”
“Butchered in an alley,” Alice said. “I keep waiting for the punch line.”
“He was probably waiting for one, too,” Mary said. “I imagine he was spouting off, making a joke out of it, Cooper style.”
The two remained in silence for a moment, both of them imagining Brent’s last moment.
“You can’t kill me yet!” Alice said, lowering her voice to do the impression of her brother. “I just plugged the meter!”
Alice drank down the last of her whiskey before speaking. “It just doesn’t make any sense to me. He could be a dick, we all know that. But why would anyone want to kill him?”
You have no idea how true that really is, Mary thought to herself. Bust a gut. Real funny.
“Let the police figure that out,” Mary said. “You focus on those parked cars.”
Alice shook her head. “I think Brent was getting funnier as he got older. I think the dementia improved his sense of humor.”
“Dementia?”
“Did I say dementia? Maybe I meant demented. I don’t know.”
Mary realized her aunt was having a senior moment while accusing another elderly person of having senior moments.
“His sense of timing needed help, too,” Alice said. “Remember that time at Gladys Fitwiler’s wedding? That horrible joke in front of the wedding party about the donkey show?”
“Ah, yes. A classic Cooper moment. Bestiality jokes involving the bride always go over so well at weddings,” Mary said.
“Mortifying,” Alice said. “And how the hell would he have known? He’d never been to Mexico.”
Mary went into the kitchen, drained the pasta and added the cheese packet, then put the noodles on a plate and brought it into the dining room. She wheeled Alice into her spot and got them both glasses of iced tea.
For the first time, Alice spoke quietly. “Now I know that car was moving.”
“What car?” Mary asked.
“The car I ran into. Or should I say, ran into me?”
Alice started eating her pasta, but Mary stared at the older woman.
“What do you mean it ran into you?” she said. “You never told me that.”
“Well the young officer made me feel like such a fool I didn’t think I should bring it up again. Dementia might be getting to me, too. You know, the other day I thought my neighbor’s shrub looked like Henry Kissinger…”
“Aunt Alice,” Mary said, her voice firm, but sharp. “Please tell me what happened.”
The old woman’s face wore a look of tired futility. “It’s like I told the young officer. I was riding my bike and saw the car. I was going to pull around it. I looked over my left shoulder to check my blind spot and then bam! I hit that darned thing. But there was no way I could have run into it, I’d looked over my shoulder when I was still a good fifteen feet away. That car backed up into me. And fast.”
Mary stared at her aunt.
“What?” the old woman said.
Mary didn’t answer, her mind sifting through the possibilities.
“I have to go,” Mary said, and started to clear her plate. “Set the alarm after I’ve gone, okay?”
“Wait,” Alice said. “You’re still going to give me a bath, right?”
Mary sighed. “All right. I was hoping you wouldn’t remember,” Mary said. “Would you like the exfoliating botanicals today? Or perhaps the lavender pumice?”
“Can I have both?”
Mary looked at her evenly.
“Do I need to remind you how I feel about the elderly?”
Chapter Six
Photographs don’t lie. They deliver the truth. The truth in all of its naked glory, Mary thought, studying the spread of snapshots showing a beautiful woman riding a handsome man like he was a Brahma bull at the county rodeo.
“Well,” her client said. He was an entertainment attorney, a very prominent one. He was tall, with thinning brown hair and gold-rimmed glasses.
Mary had been referred to him by one of her other clients. The entertainment industry was very compact. She had broken into the circle of lucrative clientele on a quiet case of kidnapping, divorce style. Mary had brought her client’s child back safe and sound, all without the press even getting a whiff.
Now, she watched as her current client studied the pornographic images of his wife and best friend, waiting for him to absorb the photograph’s contents. Mary had been a private investigator for well over ten years. Initially, she had thought about becoming a police officer, but after her criminology degree she took a job working for a local investigative service. She found the work interesting and despite the sometimes tedious stakeouts, rarely boring. And since her time in the field, she’d seen it all. Including plenty of clients faced with a cheating spouse. They all reacted differently. It took some folks longer, some of the brave ones faced it right away. She sensed this guy wouldn’t waste time.
Her client gave a bitter smile. “She said she was taking night classes,” he said.
Mary nodded. “Well, she’s certainly studying anatomy right here,” she said, tapping one of the photos.
Her client went pale, and Mary silently cursed herself. It had just slipped out, but that was the problem. They were always slipping out. Besides, she had just been reminded of some infidelity in her own life. Jake and his boss. Mary had taken that about as well as this guy was taking it.
“You were highly recommended,” the man said. “Your discretion, loyalty, and tenacity were called second to none.” His face was pale and an edge crept into his voice. “Your bedside manner, however, was not listed as one of your strong suits. I see why.”