Page 22 of Too Old for This
But he didn’t know the rest. He didn’t know she had called me in for a meeting and said Archie really needed a father in his life. He didn’t see the way she looked at me when the strap of my old purse broke and everything scattered across the floor. He didn’t see Marilyn as she watched me get down on my knees and pick everything up by myself.
As for Paul Norris, Burke knew he managed a discount grocery store where I used to shop, but he didn’t know what happened at that store. One day, I was caught short of cash and ended up at the checkout needing another two dollars and seventeen cents. The woman behind me handed me themoney, but Paul saw it. Every time I went back, he followed me around. Watched me. Acted like I was athief.
Burke also didn’t know that Marilyn, Walter, and Paul were years after Gary, when killing had become a bit like sex.
First, I had to be in the mood.
Next, the opportunity had to present itself. The place, the time, who was around and who wasn’t. It all had to work.
But the most important thing was the anger. I had to be very, very angry.
—
“What do you think? Sounds great, right?” Jax says. His voice has been droning on and on in my ear.
I clear my throat. “This loan you’re offering, what do you need for collateral?”
“Your home.”
“So this is a home equity line of credit?”
“It’s similar,” he says. “But we’ve tweaked it to fit your specific circumstances.”
“Which are?”
“We developed this opportunity for some of the most vulnerable members of our society.”
“Old people,” I say.
“The program was designed to help people who are often forgotten about, including the elderly, those with specialchallenges, and people who are unable to make enough money to support themselves…”
I roll my eyes and let Jax keep talking. My chicken won’t be done baking for another twenty minutes.
The evidence list in Plum’s file doesn’t contain anything new. No surprise there. The police stopped investigating me after the city wrote that big check. I turn the page, moving on to a pile of interview transcripts.
“So what do you think?” Jax says.
“What’s the interest rate?”
“We have a special introductory rate for the first year at only five percent. After that, it will be nineteen point nine five percent.”
“Jax, I appreciate that you’re trying to do your job. You have your own bills to pay, and I’m sure you would rather do anything other than call old women and try to sell us money from our own houses.”
“I really enjoy helping people—”
“Here’s the thing,” I say. “These are predatory loans, and you’re targeting…What did you call us? The most vulnerable members of our society? Maybe you don’t realize this, but what you’re doing is preying on old people.”
Silence.
“Hello?”
“I understand,” Jax finally says. “But if you old people would just die already and give up your houses, I wouldn’t have to work a second job to afford a place to live.”
Click.
Well. I bet Jax is not the first telemarketer who wished I was dead.
—
