Page 47 of Heidi Lucy Loses Her Mind
“Can I give you my number?” Heidi says. “In case you think of anything?”
“Sure,” Phil says. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper after rummaging around for a moment. Then he grabs a pen and passes them both to Heidi, who scribbles her number and then passes the paper back.
Phil tucks it in his pocket. “Elsie?” he calls.
A few seconds later, the petite woman who opened the door for us hurries into the room. “Yes,” she says.
“Could you see them out?” Phil says. “I need to grab my briefcase from upstairs.”
“Sure,” the woman—Elsie, I guess—says. She gives us a little smile and gestures down the hall to where we came in.
I stand up, following closely behind Heidi as we return to the front door. Phil bounds up the stairs with more energy than I’d expect from someone who’s trying so hard to seem dignified.
Elsie watches him for a second, and when she turns back to Heidi and me, I’m surprised to see that her expression has shifted into something more determined. “Look,” she says in a low voice. “I’ll tell you what my husband won’t: his mother was more than difficult. She was an incredibly demanding woman.”
Heidi and I look at each other, our surprised faces mirrors of each other.
“What do you mean?” Heidi says, looking back at Elsie.
Elsie glances back at the stairs, then beckons for us to follow her. She opens the front door and steps out onto the porch, and once again Heidi and I follow.
“My husband can be very blind,” she says when she’s pulled the door closed. “But his mother was an awful woman. I’m sorry to say that,” she adds. “And I know I should be more sensitive, given that she just passed. But…” She trails off, shaking her head and looking frustrated. “She had problems witheveryone. She interfered in our marriage, although I suppose that’s not out of the norm for a mother-in-law. But she had a spat with the neighbor too, filed a complaint—she picked fights left and right.” She takes a deep breath. “We wanted to live with her to help take care of her,” she explains. “She was getting so old. But…she didn’t make it easy.”
“She had problems with the neighbor?” Heidi says, frowning.
“Mr. Foster, yes. Something about his dog,” Elsie says, gesturing at the other unit of the duplex and looking tired. “She really didn’t like animals.”
“Mmm,” Heidi hums sympathetically. “Thank you for letting us know.”
Elsie nods, giving us a tight smile. “Sure. Have a good day.”
It’s a clear dismissal, and Heidi and I nod too. “You as well,” Heidi says, and with that, Elsie opens the door and disappears, closing it with a gentle thud.
We’re silent on our way to the car, both of us moving quickly. We were in that townhome for all of five minutes, but my brain feels full to the brim.
“So,” I say once we’ve reached the car. I lean against it, letting the heat seep through my shirt to warm my back. Then I look over at Heidi. “You wanted to‘make him aware,’ huh? Are you sure you’re not just nosy?”
“Oh, shut up,” she says, and I smile. “I can’t very well tell him that the police are giving me funny looks and I need to clear my name. Besides, Ididwant to make him aware.”
I raise one eyebrow at her.
“And then I wanted to see how he reacted,” she admits, throwing her hands up in the air. “Because yes, fine, I’m being nosy. But am I being unreasonable?” she goes on. “Is it unreasonable to want to figure out why someone died right in front of me, in my café?”
“No,” I say. “It’s not unreasonable.” I hesitate. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea, but it’s not unreasonable.”
Heidi sighs, looking down at the grass. She’s fidgeting again, wringing her hands. “I just think—I don’t know. Maybe I’m way off. But I think if I look into what happened to Carmina a little more, I might be able to figure out what happened to me, too.”
Heidi is a smart woman, and I trust her instincts. If she thinks investigating Carmina might help with her memories, I’ll support her.
“Plus…I don’t know,” she says, looking uneasy. “Every now and then I get flashes of Carmina’s last words, and it feels like she’s asking me for help.”
I nod. “Well, what do you think about Phil and Elsie?” I say, watching as the breeze plays with her hair. “Do you think they know something? Or do you think they killed her?”
She sighs again. “I don’t know. On one hand it feels absolutely ridiculous to be throwing around words likemurder.And with them, my gut says no, based on how much I love my own parents, I guess; it’s hard to imagine someone killing their own mother. But…Carmina saidmurderfirst,” she says, looking over at me. “And the police seem to think it’s possible. So that makes me wonder.”
It makes me wonder too.
“And—oh!” She breaks off as she slaps one palm against her leg. “I didn’t get to ask about what Carmina said.Lockandpick.”
