Page 59 of Every Last One

He walked back to the bedroom and looked closer. An IV tube was feeding into the back of the older woman’s hand. And there was just the edge of a mobile IV cart. She was unwell. But the statement was in Carmen Feeney’s name…

Could it be that Feeney’s mother had died, leaving her medical debt to her daughter? Based on all the outstanding bills, Feeney didn’t have the money to pay it off.

Had her strained finances pushed Carmen Feeney into the hospital with a gun? But what did she hope to accomplish? And how did the others tie in?

He returned to the home office, but nothing else in the trash revealed anything. He opened the lid on the laptop, and the screen came alive and asked for a password.

Figures…

He closed the lid again and had plans of putting it into a collection bag and taking it to the techies to hack into. A knock on the front door stalled him and had him going to answer it.

A man’s silhouette showed through the tinted glass window in the door. He was holding something in his hand, but it was hard to make out what.

“Who is it?” Eric called out.

“The landlord.”

Eric opened the door with caution, half barricading himself behind the wood. Not that it would stop a bullet from doing serious damage. It should slow it down, though, and hopefully his vest would take care of the rest. It turned out the only thing he was holding was a piece of paper.

“Who are you?” the man asked. “I received a phone call from a neighbor that a man was seen breaking into this home.”

“In that case, you should have called the police, sir.”

The man blanched, a flicker of fear shadowing his eyes.

“But there’s no need to be concerned. I am with the police.” Eric stepped out from behind the door, not sensing any threat from the man. The man was easily in his sixties and carrying some extra weight. “Detective Birch, and I’m executing a search warrant on this residence.”

“A search warrant? Whatever for? Carmen’s in trouble with the police?”

She’s inside Founders Hospital with a gun…“You could say that, sir.”

“Oh my. That doesn’t seem characteristic of her.” The man’s shoulders sagged.

Eric stepped back. “Why don’t you step inside, and we’ll talk in here?”

The man did so without a word.

“What is your name?” Eric asked him.

“Garth Deleon.”

“And what’s that you have there?” Eric pointed to the paper in the man’s hand.

“Oh, this.” He handed it over to Eric. “I don’t want to do this, but I can’t afford to have this property sitting here not making me money.”

The wordsEVICTION NOTICEacross the top of the page were impossible to miss. “You were evicting her? I believe evictions need to be handled through the US Marshals office.”

“They do. This is just a letter from my lawyer’s office threatening eviction. I was hoping that it would shake her up enough that she’d pay me.”

“How far behind is she?”

“Six months. She wasn’t taking my phone calls anymore or calling me back.”

Eric’s mind went to the pile of outstanding bills, and he could understand why Feeney had been avoiding her landlord. She had nothing to give him. “But she used to communicate with you?”

“Yes, she was always respectful and pleasant. That’s why I handed over the keys to her, but she hasn’t been the same in months. Would you, please, tell me what’s going on here?”

“I’m not comfortable saying any more than I already have.”Not to her landlord…“How well do you know Carmen?”