Page 10 of Too Old for This
“I’m sorry, did you say bruise?” Tula asks.
“It was right here.” I point to my temple, just above the eyebrow. “I didn’t see it at first, because of her hair. But once I did, it was impossible to ignore. This bruise was quite…Well, bruises are always ugly, aren’t they? Purple and black and yellow around the edges.” I make a face.
Kelsie leans forward so far it looks like she’s going to fall out of the chair. “Did Plum say how she got the bruise?”
“She said something about banging her head on a machine at the gym. I couldn’t tell you which one. I haven’t been to a gym in years, and I probably wouldn’t recognize anything other than the treadmill. Did I tell you I have one? My son bought it for me, and it’s really smooth. I never knew—”
“Mrs.Jones,” Tula says. “Did Plum say anything else about the bruise? Like when she was at the gym or how many days it had been?”
“No, but she did tell me about the burn.”
“I’m sorry, did you say burn?”
“It was on the outside of her arm, right below the wrist. Maybe two or three inches long? Plum said it was from her iron.”
“Iron. You mean a clothing iron?” Kelsie says.
“No, it was a”—I twirl my finger around a few times—“curling iron.”
“Did she say how long ago that happened?”
“I don’t think so. Before we continue, I’ve really got to get myself a cup of tea. Are you sure neither one of you want a cup?”
Kelsie stands up like she’s going to follow me into the kitchen. “Did Plum say anything else about bruises or getting injured?”
I pretend to think about that. “Not that I can recall, no.”
She looks back at Tula. They need more information, but they won’t get it from me.
Tula stands up and buttons his blazer. “Actually, I think we’re done with the questions. At least for now.”
“Are you sure? I really don’t mind answering more.”
Kelsie reaches over to hand me her card. She smells like lavender has been slathered all over her body. “If you think of anything else, will you give me a call?”
“Absolutely. Of course.”
“Thank you for your time,” Tula says. “We really appreciate it.”
They wait until I shuffle back down the hall with my walker and lead them to the door.
“If you have any more questions, feel free to call or come by,” I say. “As you can see, I don’t get out very often. Mostly just to church.”
“Hopefully, we’ll find her soon, and won’t have to bother you again,” Tula says.
I smile.
—
It feels good to get out of that nightgown and slip into a hot bath. A rarity for me. Who has time to lie around in a pool of water filled with their own dirt?
But I need to think, and I don’t want to pace.
That’s what I usually do, pace and move around, but my hip is really starting to hurt from all the thinking I’ve been doing.
The walker might be turning into more than a prop.
I bought it last year, when the doctor said I needed a new hip.
Still haven’t pulled the trigger on that surgery.
I try to get all my worrying out in the bath. Did I say enough but not too much, and did it make sense? Most importantly, did I sound real, or was it a case of bad acting? Do they know my real name and were just pretending not to?
My name change was sealed by a judge, but Plum still managed to find it.
If Tula and Kelsie had brought that up, I was prepared to tell them a few things about what happened back then.
Days after my picture appeared in the news, the kids started picking on Archie, calling his mother a murderer, a serial killer, and a psycho.
No one was allowed to play with him. And no one at the school had any compassion, because they believed it, too.
I lost my job. Technically, they put me on unpaid leave at the bank “pending the investigation,” but I knew the job was gone. Even my landlord didn’t want me around anymore.
The investigation continued, and I started selling everything, preparing to move out of Spokane. We left the day after the police cleared my name.
And I hired a lawyer to sue the city.
No one knows about that—not the press and not Archie. We came to an agreement before a lawsuit was filed. The payout bought me this big house.
I didn’t tell Kelsie and Tula all of that, but I will if I have to. Nothing says innocent like “Here’s a pile of money. Sorry we screwed up your life.”
A lot of unexpected things could still happen, so I have to focus on what’s coming next. These are the worst, most stressful moments, and preparing for them takes up so much time.
For example, should I wash the old nightgown or leave it a little dirty in case the police drop by again?
And will it be Tula and Kelsie who come to my door again, or will the Baycliff police get involved?
We aren’t that far from Salem, but police are so strange about their jurisdictions.
Figuring those out can be more complicated than committing murder.
I get out of the bath, put on some clean clothes, and sit down with my notepad. It’s the preprinted kind with To-Do List written at the top in a scrolly, friendly font. With a stubby pencil, I jot down a few things to pick up at the store. But at the top, I write Call Stephanie .
I’ve been avoiding my ex-daughter-in-law, but it’s about time to face the fear. She has been at the top of my to-do list every day since Archie called with his news. Tomorrow, I’ll contact her. Probably.