and I see that he’s pretty down, too. Carson, however, simply looks thoughtful. That’s because he gets to live in a city that has ballet and orchestras, and nobody would ever dream of starting an Organic Agriculture and Archery Guild.
He suggests that Luther haul Louise off to join her BFF Florine at the hospital and pulls the chief to the side for a confab. They look serious as they talk, making me wonder if they’re about to declare this an epidemic and call in the CDC. Maybe we’ll be all over the news with the Fortuna Malady, like those places with the monkey pox and Legionnaire’s Disease. The powers that be at WFRT would be thrilled to finally originate a huge story instead of getting it off the wire service feed.
I dream of that cute TV doctor coming to Fortuna to film a piece and agreeing to be interviewed on my news show. I can do legitimate journalism. I proved that when the librarian embezzled the fine money and had to pay back the whole sixty-four dollars or spend three weeks picking up litter off the roadsides.
My heart leaps when Dwaine waves me over. Here it comes, my big break. I take a deep breath and prepare myself.
“Carson says you’ve got fresh coffee,” he says. “Any chance I can get a cup?”
My ego deflates like a helium balloon at a frigid holiday parade. Get coffee, I mutter to myself as I head for the house. Want a leftover doughnut, too?
As it turns out, the timing is impeccable. My cell phone is chiming and the caller is still there when I dig the phone from my purse and offer a breathless hello.
The voice on the other end is thick and stilted. My breath catches as I realize this could well be the kidnapper of Miz Waddy using me as an intermediary because he’s learned I have her cat. Turns out, though, to be the bank branch manager.
“Thimon told me he that down wif you an that OBI,” he says in a painful manner that causes me to remember he’s just had oral surgery.
“Yes, we sat down with Simon,” I agree.
“I thot you might wanna look at the thecond account Mith Waddy hath.”
Two accounts at the Merchants and Miners?
“I can gib you the records eben though she took mooth of the money out lath week.”
My mind flits through the possible reasons Miz Waddy would have cleaned out an account. The two most obvious are plastic surgery or blackmail, and she doesn’t strike me as the type to care about perfect boobs or nose straightening. Which leaves one good option.
“Thank you so much,” I say. “If you could have those records ready, I’ll be right down for them.”
“I can only releath theb to a cop.”
“We,” I hasten to reply. “We’ll be right down to get them.”
The look Dwaine shoots me when I finally deliver his coffee cements the decision I made while pouring it. I’m keeping this two-account thing strictly between Carson and me. Blackmail is so out of the local police’s league that I’m doing them a favor by not mentioning it. Besides, they have their hands full of wigged-out Fortunians at the moment.
Dwaine downs his coffee and says a curt goodbye. I make sure to smile in return and wave enthusiastically as he leaves. Carson watches with a grin.
“Back to the grind,” he says, taking my hand as we start across the street.
“Not quite. There’s another set of bank records.”
Carson stops and stares. “Another set?”
I nod. “Turns out Miz Waddy had two accounts, one of which took a big hit last week.”
* * * *
Follow the money is one of those things they do on TV crime dramas, but it’s not nearly as easy as it sounds. I get my highlighters out once we return with the new account statements and start looking for anything out of the ordinary. Carson must be more experienced with forensic accounting than me because his pages flip over a lot faster.
“Did this Peytona woman inherit stocks and bonds, anything like that?” Carson’s looking at me like he thinks I know. Prying into other people’s business isn’t my
He suggests that Luther haul Louise off to join her BFF Florine at the hospital and pulls the chief to the side for a confab. They look serious as they talk, making me wonder if they’re about to declare this an epidemic and call in the CDC. Maybe we’ll be all over the news with the Fortuna Malady, like those places with the monkey pox and Legionnaire’s Disease. The powers that be at WFRT would be thrilled to finally originate a huge story instead of getting it off the wire service feed.
I dream of that cute TV doctor coming to Fortuna to film a piece and agreeing to be interviewed on my news show. I can do legitimate journalism. I proved that when the librarian embezzled the fine money and had to pay back the whole sixty-four dollars or spend three weeks picking up litter off the roadsides.
My heart leaps when Dwaine waves me over. Here it comes, my big break. I take a deep breath and prepare myself.
“Carson says you’ve got fresh coffee,” he says. “Any chance I can get a cup?”
My ego deflates like a helium balloon at a frigid holiday parade. Get coffee, I mutter to myself as I head for the house. Want a leftover doughnut, too?
As it turns out, the timing is impeccable. My cell phone is chiming and the caller is still there when I dig the phone from my purse and offer a breathless hello.
The voice on the other end is thick and stilted. My breath catches as I realize this could well be the kidnapper of Miz Waddy using me as an intermediary because he’s learned I have her cat. Turns out, though, to be the bank branch manager.
“Thimon told me he that down wif you an that OBI,” he says in a painful manner that causes me to remember he’s just had oral surgery.
“Yes, we sat down with Simon,” I agree.
“I thot you might wanna look at the thecond account Mith Waddy hath.”
Two accounts at the Merchants and Miners?
“I can gib you the records eben though she took mooth of the money out lath week.”
My mind flits through the possible reasons Miz Waddy would have cleaned out an account. The two most obvious are plastic surgery or blackmail, and she doesn’t strike me as the type to care about perfect boobs or nose straightening. Which leaves one good option.
“Thank you so much,” I say. “If you could have those records ready, I’ll be right down for them.”
“I can only releath theb to a cop.”
“We,” I hasten to reply. “We’ll be right down to get them.”
The look Dwaine shoots me when I finally deliver his coffee cements the decision I made while pouring it. I’m keeping this two-account thing strictly between Carson and me. Blackmail is so out of the local police’s league that I’m doing them a favor by not mentioning it. Besides, they have their hands full of wigged-out Fortunians at the moment.
Dwaine downs his coffee and says a curt goodbye. I make sure to smile in return and wave enthusiastically as he leaves. Carson watches with a grin.
“Back to the grind,” he says, taking my hand as we start across the street.
“Not quite. There’s another set of bank records.”
Carson stops and stares. “Another set?”
I nod. “Turns out Miz Waddy had two accounts, one of which took a big hit last week.”
* * * *
Follow the money is one of those things they do on TV crime dramas, but it’s not nearly as easy as it sounds. I get my highlighters out once we return with the new account statements and start looking for anything out of the ordinary. Carson must be more experienced with forensic accounting than me because his pages flip over a lot faster.
“Did this Peytona woman inherit stocks and bonds, anything like that?” Carson’s looking at me like he thinks I know. Prying into other people’s business isn’t my
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