A.L. Jambor - Where's Audrey? by A.L. Jambor Page A

while, and now I found some guy living in her house.”
    “Really,” Nancy said. “Which number?”
    “298,” Mel said.
    Nancy typed and pulled up the info for 298. “That home is owned by a Jason Frye. This lists the previous owner as Audrey Glenn.”
    “When did she sell the trailer?” Conner asked.
    “They are manufactured homes,” Nancy said, with a slight edge in her voice.
    “When did she sell the home ?” he said.
    “September. I’ve only been here for two months. My predecessor handled the transaction. She didn’t keep very good records, which is why she no longer works here. I’ve spent a lot of time cleaning things up.”
    “Have you met Jason Frye?” Mel asked. “He’s like thirty.”
    “That’s impossible,” Nancy said. “Even the former manager couldn’t have allowed a man that age to sign a lease. The actual owner has to be over fifty-five.”
    “But does that mean someone under fifty-five can live there alone?”
    “No. Unless it was temporary. We have rules. Even a widow under fifty-five has to leave, unless she’s close to fifty-five. We have made some exceptions, but they’re rare.”
    “I’ve got news for you, lady,” Mel said. “That guy is living there alone and he’s not fifty-five.”
    Conner put a hand on Mel, who looked as if she wanted to grab Nancy by the throat.
    “Do you have a copy of the lease Jason Frye signed?” Conner asked.
    Nancy pushed herself away from her desk and rolled over to a filing cabinet directly behind her. She looked through some files and found the lease for 298. She rolled back to the desk and handed it to Conner. He pulled out the driver’s licenses for the Fryes and compared them to the lease.
    “It’s the old man,” he said. “He signed the lease.”
    “Have you ever met Jason Frye?” Mel asked Nancy.
    “No, I’m afraid not. I’ve been so busy since taking over I haven’t had a chance to meet all the residents. There are over six hundred , you know.”
    “No, I didn’t know. Thank you for telling me.”
    “Can I have a copy of this?” Conner asked.
    “Sure,” Nancy said. She got up and went to the all-in-one printer on the bookcase next to the filing cabinet and made him a copy of the lease. When she handed it to him, she held it.
    “Are you sure there was no one over fifty-five living there?” she asked Conner.
    “Not absolutely sure, but the younger guy was alone when I went there yesterday.”
    “The owner could have been out,” Nancy said.
    “The car was in the driveway,” Conner said.
    “He could have been at the pool,” Nancy said.
    “Why don’t you go over there and see for yourself?” Mel asked.
    “Thanks, Nancy,” Conner said. He stood and looked at Mel. She stood, and then followed him out the door.
    “I didn’t like her,” Mel said. “She’s full of shit.”
    “Yes, but we may need her. It’s always better to keep them on your side.”
    “Do you believe the old guy ever lived there? I mean, wouldn’t someone have mentioned him? Marge never said anything about an older man, and neither did the old man or the mean girl women I talked to.”
    “Maybe we should talk to Marge together,” Conner said.
    “She’s always on the porch,” Mel said.

Chapter 9
    The sky had grown cloudy while they were in the office.
    “It’s gonna rain,” Conner said.
    Marge was at her station on the porch and Maurice was barking.
    “Shut up, Maurice,” Marge yelled when she saw them pull up. She recognized Mel and Conner from the day before.
    “Hi, Marge,” Mel said as they walked up to the porch. “This is Deputy O’Keefe. He wanted to ask you some questions.”
    “Deputy, huh? It’s about time one of you came to talk to me.”
    “Any particular reason we should be talking to you?” Conner asked.
    “The girl knows. We talked this morning.”
    “Marge,” Mel said. “Have you ever seen another man living in my aunt’s house?”
    “What do you mean?” Marge asked.
    “An older man, say, around