An Uncollected Death
hair. A mess, but it was dry.
“If you have a blanket, I think I’d like to crash on the sofa now.”
When she woke up, however, she was in Simon’s bed, and the clock said it was mid-morning.
Sixteen
Monday, September 23rd
Charlotte groaned as she tried to remember the events of the evening before. She was still in the track suit; the only clothing removed was the socks, which were at the side of the bed, and she bent down to put them back on. She didn’t think anything erotic occurred, but it was good to confirm it. A look in the mirror above the dresser confirmed it further: she looked like a train wreck, hair sticking out in every direction, dark circles under her eyes. Every muscle and joint was throbbing in pain from the work and getting chilled. Then she sneezed, and realized her throat was scratchy, as well. She longed to get at her own bathroom cabinet, with its collection of remedies and palliatives. Another sign of being middle-aged.
She padded out to the kitchen and saw that Simon had left her a note and coffee in the coffeemaker. She poured a cup and sat at the counter to read the note:
Good Morning! Had an early class and appointments. Helene is back and expecting you for breakfast. Told her what happened. Hope you’re feeling better. S. PS—I’ve got an idea about the Jeep, and took the keys. Hope you don’t mind.
Now she remembered. He had insisted she take the bed because he was leaving early, and she was too tired to protest. He had slept on the sofa, and she saw the blanket folded up on the seat cushion. What a nice guy he turned out to be. She kept thinking about his arm around her while they were watching Olivia’s house, and the day she met him, when he caught her as she started to feel faint. A hot shower and a sandwich. Clean clothes to sleep in. His long legs and black jeans, the shaggy hair, the eyes that looked right into her, and yet—
—the attraction, as far as she could tell, was strictly one way. The current episode wasn’t going to help things, either.
Charlotte sighed, turned off the coffee pot, and after the usual bathroom activities, plus a dab of Simon’s toothpaste on her finger to clean her teeth, and twisting the bandana to make a tieback for her hair, she gathered up her things and made her way around to the next condo over. The sun was shining, and it was going to be a perfect day to move, except she wasn’t going to be able to move. Damn. She hoped Simon would be able to figure out what the problem was with the Jeep.
Helene let her in, and looked like she was trying not to laugh in spite of making sympathetic noises and remarks.
“You poor dear! You’ve had a rough time of it, haven’t you?”
Charlotte resisted the temptation to protest too much, lest Helene think something more went on than actually did. “Simon’s note said you were expecting me. Thanks so much.” She could smell something baking, and realized she was hungry again as she followed Helene to the kitchen.
“Oh, I only wish I was here last night! Just got back an hour ago, threw a little something in the oven.”
There was more coffee, and Charlotte curled up on the cushioned chair, allowing herself to be pampered. Helene removed ramekins of baked Eggs Florentine from the oven, and put in thick slices of French bread to toast. Charlotte gradually became aware that Helene kept looking at her with what appeared to be an increasing level of concern.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
“I’m worried about you, Charlotte. You’re working too hard, trying to do too much.” The toast was ready, and she brought it over and poured more coffee.
Charlotte nodded. It was true enough. “I know, Helene, but it’s like I have to. It’s so important to me to have a nest, my own nest. I feel so lost without one, and with all these changes, it’s more important to me than ever. Plus, I want to know what I need to take, what I can leave behind to sell, and be at peace with all those little decisions. This is the time that I have to do it.”
Helene nodded ruefully. “I can just kick myself for agreeing to contract Warren Brothers so soon, when you have all this going on and trying to find those notebooks at the same time. I feel responsible for getting you into this bind. Please let me help, Charlotte, with everything. Anything I can do, just say the word.”
“Hey, Helene, you’re doing it already,” Charlotte said with a smile and holding up a forkful of eggs. “This is delicious.”
They ate and talked about Donovan breaking the terms of the will by moving things around at his mother’s house.
“Simon is afraid they may have messed things up for you, making it harder than ever to find those notebooks.”
“I want to go there now, but I can’t go out like this.”
“Most of my things will be the wrong size, but I can loan you a clean overshirt if you can stand wearing your jeans again.”
“That’ll work! Let’s see what’s been going on over there, and then I’ll have to decide what to do about the Jeep.” She explained how she had planned to move that day, but the Jeep broke down again.
“Simon told me. He said he had an idea about that, though. Didn’t elaborate, and I’m not sure I would have understood, anyway. But I am glad, in a way, that you can’t move today. You need to take a day off. No work, just try to rest.”
After Charlotte changed into Helene’s shirt and her own jeans, they drove instead of walked to Olivia’s house, since Helene thought she would give her a ride to Lake Parkerton. Things had clearly been moved, but mostly put back. Charlotte had the sense that Donovan and the others had been looking for something, but had not necessarily taken anything. She would have to view the video Simon made to be certain. Just the fact that they had been looking, however, made her nervous—it meant that whoever came here and killed Olivia and Wesley Warren had not yet found what he was looking for.
“I’m fed up,” said Helene. “Donovan is not supposed to be here until after the auction. Nobody is supposed to be here except you, Simon, and myself until Warren Brothers comes to start getting things for the sale, which isn’t until this weekend. I’m calling him and giving him a piece of my mind, especially after caving on having the sale so quickly.” She found his number on her phone and dialed.
The call did not go as expected, however. After chatting a moment, Helene got Charlotte’s attention. “Donovan is over on Harvey Street. He and Simon are working on your Jeep.”
Donovan and Simon both? “This I’ve gotta see,” said Charlotte.
Helen thought for a moment. “It makes sense, actually. Donnie said he’d been working as a mechanic, and he’d have to know a thing or two about cars to keep that Dodge going so long, wouldn’t you think?”
Charlotte shrugged. “Could be. Let’s find out.”
They found a place to park near the Jeep, but only Simon was working on it when they walked up. The hood was propped open and a screwdriver, a socket wrench, and an adjustable wrench were lying around, along with some other tools.
“Where’s Donovan?” asked Helene.
Simon stood upright and wiped his hands on a towel. “Good morning, ladies. Donovan has gone to get a replacement part.” He turned to look at Charlotte. “With any luck, our diagnosis is correct and your Jeep will be up and running good as new.”
“Really? What’s wrong with it?” she asked.
“A bad crankshaft position sensor. Not a hard job, but awkward.”
“You’re up to something,” said Helene.
Simon smiled. “Wanted an excuse to talk to him alone about his shenanigans last night. The fact that he really did seem to have an idea what was wrong with Charlotte’s Jeep is a bonus. The only problem, though, was trying to change the subject, because once he gets going on the subject of cars, there’s no getting him off of it.” He turned to Charlotte again. “Sleep well?”
She felt her cheeks start to redden, but she smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks again for everything.” She gestured toward the engine. “This too.” Then she spotted paper under the windshield wiper. A park
ing ticket. She said nothing, but groaned inwardly. Was there no end to this?
“Have you learned anything yet?” Helene asked Simon. “Charlotte and I were just at Olivia’s house. We can’t tell if anything is missing, but she thinks things have been moved as if they were looking for something.”
“That was the impression I got from what I could see last night,” he said. “People moving around, but carefully.” He looked at Charlotte. “I’ll finish editing the valuation video that we have so far, and use it to see if anything is missing. Then we can get the rest done maybe Wednesday or Thursday.”
“I don’t understand why Donnie keeps going back there when he knows he’s supposed to leave it alone,” said Helene, who then explained to Simon about agreeing to contract Warren Brothers for the estate auction because she felt Donovan was at his breaking point.
Simon looked surprised, but took it all in. “I’m thinking you’re right, he’s desperate. We can be pretty certain he’s into that loan shark for money, given what Lola and Jimmy said about Mitchell.”
Helene nodded, and Charlotte added her concerns. “I’m almost positive that Olivia and Wesley Warren were assaulted for something that’s in that house. If Donovan and Mitchell are still looking, then whatever it is hasn’t been found. The only reason I can think of for them not to wait until this weekend to look for it is because they’re worried we’ll find it first.”
“Oh, dear,” said Helene. “What on