Snow started to pile up as Ezra, Rob, and I waited in the comfort of Rob’s truck at the Grand Apartments on Grand Avenue. Fortunately, Lettie had been in possession of a spare key, but she’d had to go home to retrieve it. Fifteen minutes later, Lynn, Lettie, and, unfortunately, Lorena arrived in a small four-door sedan. The sisters piled out of the vehicle, looking like they were geared up for an Arctic exploration.
Donning oversized coats with the hoods pulled up, thick gloves, and quilted snow boots, the sisters met us in the parking lot, and as a group, we went into the apartment complex and up the stairs to the second floor.
“These knees are not made for stairs,” Lorena complained. “They need an elevator in this place.”
“You didn’t have to come,” Lettie snapped back, sounding like she’d had about all she could take of her oldest sister. “As a matter of fact, you weren’t invited.”
“Would you two stop it,” Lynn said. “Sniping at each other is just going to make a bad situation worse.”
Ezra, Rob, and I were smart enough to keep our opinions to ourselves. When we got to apartment 22b, Lettie handed Ezra the keys. “Can I go in with you?” she asked.
“It’s better if you stay out here for the moment. I don’t know what we’ll find,” he said, his voice filled with compassion. “You guys can keep Rob company while Nora and I take a quick look around.”
“Land sakes,” Lorena griped. “Your cougar is allowed to traipse around in the heated apartment while we have to stand out here in the cold. Why am I not surprised?”
My mouth dropped open as if someone had loosened the bolts on a hinge.
Lynn’s shock was apparent as her gaze darted back and forth between Ezra, Lorena, and me.
“Aunt Lorena.” Ezra’s tone held a warning. “Don’t talk about Nora like that.”
“Well, I don’t know what the kids are calling a woman like her these days? A sugar mama? Cradle snatcher? Milk?”
“Milf,” Lettie corrected absently.
Lynn shot her younger sister a look. “Don’t help her.”
Lettie grimaced. “Sorry.”
Ezra’s face was getting red, and it wasn’t from the cold.
Rob, smartly, had taken two steps back. I imagined he was grateful the negative attention was on someone other than himself.
Lorena gave me a curt nod. “That’s it, MILF. A mother Ezra would like to—”
Before she could finish, I hawed a laugh, the sound akin to a donkey’s bray, and I kept laughing. I hadn’t been sure how I’d react if his family had a problem with our age difference, but now I knew. I’d expected some backhanded remarks and quiet digs, but Lorena was completely in-my-face absurd. I was appalled but also a little impressed.
Lynn and Lettie rapidly shifted their gaze from me to their rude sister. The rude sister looked like she was going to swallow her tongue. The woman had wanted a smackdown, but instead, she was the star of her own comedy show.
Ezra wore an unhappy frown, but I saw Rob smirk as Lorena’s mouth opened, closed, opened, and closed again.
“What’s so funny?” the Bitter Betty finally asked.
I took a couple deep breaths, and my humor faded. “I’m not a mother,” I said flatly. I turned my attention to Ezra. “Let’s get in there before everyone gets frostbite.” I resisted the urge to add a “meow” at the end of the statement. Point for me.
I could hear the sisters whispering fiercely as Ezra and I went into the apartment.
Ezra dipped his shoulder to mine. “You shut her the hell up. That’s a first.”
“That woman has got a big ol’ bug up her behind about me.” I’d thought Ezra’s mom would be the tough sell, but she’d been a real peach. Lorena, however, was doing her damnedest to run me off. “What’s that all about?”
“There are some people, like my Aunt Lettie, that don’t have a mean bone in their body, and that’s because my Aunt Lorena got them all.”
I snorted. “Funny.”
“Accurate,” he said. “But now that I know that laughter is literally the cure for Lorena-itis, I’ll be employing the Nora-method whenever she tries to start some crap with me.”
We studied the apartment. It was a basic box with a living room and kitchen taking up the front half when you entered, and there was an opening recessed into the wall near the end of the kitchen cabinets that had three doors. The two facing each other were most likely the bathroom and bedroom and the smaller door, the linen closet.
Penny had made a minimal effort to decorate with a small pre-lit green Christmas tree sitting on top of an electric heater in the living room. The furniture consisted of a taupe vinyl couch, matching chair and ottoman. The vinyl had flaked in places, and there was a dark stain on the arm of the couch. Oddly, even with the furniture and the tree, the place felt cold and empty.
“Where do you want to start?” he asked.
Kitchens and living rooms tended to have more PG-rated memories, while bedrooms and bathrooms were likely NSFN. Not safe for Nora. Still, they were usually the places where the strongest memories went down.
However, I recognized the fridge with the dent and deep scratch. This is where Penny’s kitchen memory had been located. “I’ll start in here and work my way to the other rooms.”
Ezra opened the door on the left. “Bathroom,” he said. Then he opened the one on the right. “Bedroom.” He went into that room first.
I began by checking the cabinets, popping the tops off canisters situated on the counter, and opening the fridge. There was one thing clearly evident, Penny hadn’t stocked any new items in a while, and almost everything was empty. There was a jar of peanut butter in the cupboard, a loaf of bread in a drawer, and a half dozen eggs, a quart of milk, and some butter in the fridge. Nothing else. Even the coffee canister was down to a few scoops of grounds at the bottom.
I picked the canister up and brought it to my nose….
“God, I love the scent of fresh Columbian,” a thin woman with dark blonde hair styled down around her shoulders says. “It’s the true champion of coffee drinkers.”
A man with brown hair sits on the couch. He positions himself sideways to face the woman in the kitchen. “As long as it’s hot and black, I’ll drink it.”
“The military ruined you for good coffee,” she says with a laugh. “But one steaming cup, coming right up.”
He chuckles and teases, “I could fall in love with a woman like you.”
Her tone turns serious. “A woman like me could fall in love with you.”
As the memory fades, I can still feel the tenderness of the moment. The military comment gave more credence to the idea that there was a personal relationship between Penny and Clark Faber. It still didn’t answer the question about why they were fighting today. Had he found out about the plot to steal the charity money? Had the fight been a confrontation? I still didn’t understand how he ended up in a farm field outside of town. Whatever the reason, I wasn’t going to find out in the kitchen.
There were no scented candles, room sprays, or lotions in the living room. The Christmas tree was unscented as well. I’m sure it was strange seeing me sniff my way through the kitchen and living room, but the sisters had managed to keep their voices low enough that I couldn’t hear what they were saying.
Until I started sniffing the couch.
“What is she?” Lorena asked. “The fart detective? A butt hound?”
“Shut up,” Lynn hissed.
“Cracking cases, one derriere at a time,” Lorena continued.
I nearly choked on my own spit at her comment. Luckily, I managed to keep it together. When I got to the arm with the stain, I caught a redolent chemical tang. It smelled a bit like cleaning chemicals with a slight lemon undertone.
“You’re bleeding.” The dark blonde woman, Penny, I assume, ushers a man inside the apartment. The guy is taller than the woman, and his brown hair reminds me of the man from the previous vision, but it's cut differently, and it’s messy as if he’s been in a tussle. “Sit down,” she tells him. “I’ll get some paper towels.”
She rushes into the kitchen and grabs a roll from the counter. Blood is dripping down the guy’s hand onto the arm of the couch. She rips a wad of sheets from the roll and hands it to him to stem the flow.
“Thank you,” he says, pressing the paper towels against his forearm. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
“What happened?” she asks.
“I can’t….” His voice is shaky and rough. I can’t tell if it’s the same man as her coffee date. He doesn’t sound the same, but he’s upset, and that can change a tone of voice. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he says. “I just need a minute.”
“Let me see it.” She turns his arm over. A jagged laceration on his forearm oozes red. “That’s deep. It’s going to need stitches,” she says. “You need to go to the emergency room.”
“No.” He jerks his arm back protectively, then presses the towels onto his wound again. “I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse. No hospital.”
I let out a harsh breath when the vision ended. My palm was pressed against the stain. I recoiled from the spot. Ezra came out of the bedroom.
“Anything?” he asked.
“Nothing helpful,” I told him. “You?”
“Something,” he replied. “Penny’s bedroom is empty.”
“What do you mean?” Lettie hollered from the door. “How is it empty?”
He scratched his nose and gestured toward the bedroom. “Her clothes, her personal stuff, everything, is gone. Even the bed sheets have been stripped.” Ezra’s lips thinned. “Penny packed up to leave town.”
“You can’t know that,” Lorena scoffed.
“I’m afraid it’s true.” That’s when I noticed he had an envelope in his hand. “She left a goodbye note.”