Page 53 of Too Old for This

Before I have a chance to mess up the house again, my phone rings. At least it’s not someone at my door. I’ve had enough guests for the rest of the year. But I don’t recognize the number on my phone.

No, wait. Yes, I do recognize it.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Is this Lottie Jones?”

That voice. Oh, yes, I know who this is. But I play stupid anyway. “Speaking. Who’s this?”

“This is Jax from InterDial.”

Oh, Jax. It’s been so long. And you do make me smile. “Hello.”

“I heard you were trying to get hold of me.”

“Yes. I was rather upset about the way our call ended. You said you wished I was dead.”

Pause.

“I shouldn’t have said that. It was inappropriate and wrong.”

“Thank you for saying that, Jax. I’m glad to hear you’ve learned your lesson about how to speak to people.”

“I have. Definitely. And I’m really sorry.”

“Good.”

“One more thing,” he says. I hear rustling in the background, followed by the sound of a door closing. When Jax speaks, his voice is different. Lower, more like a whisper. An angry one. “I’m really sorry you aren’t dead yet, you old hag.”

Click.

I smile.

Now, this is the kind of thing I should be doing.

I should be sitting inside my lovely condo at Oak Manor, looking out at my patio.

Or up in a turret room at Tranquil Towers with a view of the garden.

And I should be spending my days talking to people like Jax, showing him that old hags like me can be a real asset to society.

We aren’t a drain. Not all of us, anyway.

Some of us perform valuable services in the community.

Between that and the new grandbaby, my life would be quite full. It might not be as exciting as my early years, but it would be enough.

First, I have to get rid of Burke.

—

One of the most important rules I have is never to document anything. No written lists, no using a computer that isn’t mine. Get it done, get rid of the body, leave nothing behind.

Today, I break that rule. Temporarily. I write down all the options for Burke, a script of what I should or should not text to him, and how he might answer back.

Not easy, considering I don’t know him that well. It’s all a guess, and I hate guessing. People try to make it sound important by saying things like an educated guess . Most of the time, it’s still wrong.

What I don’t want to do is live the rest of my life—no matter how many years are left—thinking Burke will pop up behind me. It’s bad enough he has done it now, and that he’s been talking to Norma for weeks. The last thing I want to do is spend my golden years living in fear.

When I’ve scripted our conversation every way I can think of, I grab a matchbook. One by one, I light up my notes and throw them into the fireplace. Smells a hell of a lot better than Norma or Plum did. And all the others.

Now I’m ready.

The afternoon is sunny and bright, and the Harmony is mostly empty. No one wants to be indoors on a weekend like this. Housekeeping has already come and gone. I rip apart the bed and towels, use the soap, and leave water splattered on the bathroom counter.

From room service, I order a slice of chocolate cake and coffee. Sometimes, only sugar and caffeine will do. Then I pick up Norma’s phone.

Burke: How did it go?

Burke: Hey there…

Burke: Everything okay?

I bet he isn’t worried about Norma’s safety. He is worried about this plan of his going awry. For him, this is a chance to correct his biggest failure.

The same could be said about me.

Norma: I’m here. I’m fine .

The blue dots appear in an instant.

Burke: How did it go with Tula?

Norma: He said there were a lot of things he couldn’t tell me before.

Burke: About Plum?

Norma: No, about Lottie .

Burke: What about her?

I pause for a couple of minutes. My room service is here, and I stop to fix my coffee and take a bite of cake.

Burke: Hello?

Norma: He said Kelsie did some surveillance on Lottie after Plum disappeared .

Burke: And?

Norma: All they saw was an old woman who couldn’t have done this.

Burke: You’ve got to be kidding .

Norma: He said she’s too frail. I told you she uses a walker now, right?

Burke: She’s faking it.

Norma: Tula doesn’t believe that.

Burke: I told you they were stupid. Didn’t I tell you that?

Norma: You did.

Burke: I’m so glad you contacted me. Doesn’t sound like you’re getting any help down there.

Norma: Yes. I trust you. And I have a surprise .

Burke: A good one, I hope .

Norma: I’m having dinner with her tonight .

Burke: Really?

Norma: Really.

Burke: Norma, you are incredible!

Norma: Thank you. I couldn’t have done any of this without your help.

Burke: We are so very close. You’ve been doing an amazing job .

Norma: I don’t care about doing a great job. I want to know what happened to my daughter .

Burke: You will. Stick to the plan.

The plan. The plan . There it is again. But I can’t ask what it is, because I’m supposed to know.

I clench my hand into a fist. This is so frustrating.

Norma: Are you sure it will work?

Burke: If you do it right. Hide it where she’ll never find it.