His car was in the driveway. I knocked without hesitation. He opened the door, coffee cup in one hand, sports page in the other and backed up to let me in.
“Sorry to barge in on a Sunday afternoon.”
“Are you alone or should I duck and cover?” Dylan walked into the kitchen and put his cup on the counter.
“Is your head okay?” I asked.
He rubbed it in the spot where he’d been hit. “I’ll live. So what can I do for you?”
I heard the TV going in the living room and I could tell, just from the sound, that he was watching a baseball game.
“Phillies?” I asked.
He nodded. “Play offs. If they win this one, they…what’s wrong?” He must have seen a look on my face that I wasn’t even aware I was making.
I walked to the living room and dropped onto the corner of the couch. “This whole thing has gotten out of control.”
“How so? The fact that I was impaled with a garden implement? Or is there more?” He had followed behind me to the living room and lowered the volume on the television.
“More?” I told him about my experience in the closet and Cora’s room. “And then I’m walking in the woods and I find this.” I tossed the piece of journal at him. “She took my fucking journal and ripped it apart. I want to kill her.”
Dylan sat next to me. His expression was intense but I couldn’t help noticing that he had positioned himself so that he could see the television. “I went and pulled Nick’s entire file from my father’s office to see if there was anything in it, you know, previous wills. To see who the beneficiary was. If a James popped up.”
I glanced at him. “And?”
“He did have a previous will. Dated over five years ago. Beneficiaries were a Margaret Whitfield. His aunt on his father’s side. She is developmentally disabled. Lives in a group home in Harrisburg. Her cousin has power of attorney over her affairs. And an Ernst Weichmann.”
I stared wide eyed. “Ernst Weichmann? Where does he live? How is he connected to Nick?”
Dylan shrugged. “Maybe Nick took his last name? Maybe he took care of Nick after he left this area? He lives in Westbrook Maine. Or he did five years ago.”
I put my head down and rubbed my eyes with my fingertips. “Westbrook is only fifteen minutes away from our house. This was under my nose the entire time.”
“But in all the papers, names, beneficiaries, there was not one person named James mentioned. Or Cora, for that matter.”
We were both quiet, staring at the television. Phillies and the Cardinals. I knew instantly by the uniforms. The Phillies were up.
“This was perfect trap set by a dying man, wasn’t it? To set me up against his mother. Making her think I know or have something. But only really telling me enough to get me here?” I ventured.
“YES!” Dylan jumped up off the couch and screamed at the television. Jimmy Rollins had hit the ball through the middle and was headed towards second base. Then he glanced at me. “Sorry, got caught up for a minute. I think Nick set this up, yes. But he might have done you a favor because I think she would have come to you anyway. You need to be very careful.”
I nodded and stood. “I will. I’ll call you.”
He turned his head towards me. “Good your friend is coming to stay with you. You won’t be alone over there, just tell her to hit the lights before entering a room” He tapped the bump on his head.
“I was feeling a bit uneasy, anxious before. And you’ve made me feel so much better.” I half laughed.
I opened the door and let myself out. The sounds of the game followed me all the way to the sidewalk.