Page 72 of Too Old for This
“The…mob?”
“The big boss is in the middle, and everyone else is connected to him. The whole thing looks like a web. That’s you.”
“Me?”
“Everything that’s happened always comes back to you. Plum’s disappearance, the bruise on her temple, Cole being blamed, even the death of Kelsie. You’re the only one who connects them all.”
While I appreciate the big-boss compliment, she is onlyhalf right. Norma has collected the pieces but can’t see how they fit together. “If you could listen for one second, I can clear this up.”
“I’m not done.” She holds up Plum’s file, the one I kept stuck in the recliner. “Why do you have this?”
Her eyes are blazing. I’m tied to a chair, but she’s the one filled with rage.
Deep breath. Calm voice.
“Your daughter gave that file to me. She wanted me to understand what kind of show she was making.”
“Docuseries. She was making a docuseries.”
“Yes. Thank you for correcting me.”
“I’m supposed to believe she just left all this information here with you?” Norma doesn’t wait for an answer. She opens the file, licking her fingers to thumb through each page, pausing to read out loud. “ ‘A police department source said that Lorena Mae Lansdale is the only suspect in three murders. And that she is,’ quote, ‘ “one of the most dangerous killers we’ve ever seen.” ’ ”
That’s from a Spokane newspaper article. My lawyer used the same quote when he explained to the city how much they were going to pay me.
When she turns the page, I move my hand, pulling the leg of my slacks up an inch. Maybe I can get to that paring knife in my pocket.
Norma jabs her finger at the page. “Here. ‘The Spokane Police Department no longer considers Ms.Lansdale a suspect in the murders of Paul Norris, Marilyn Dobbs, or Walter Simmons. All three cases are open investigations.’ ”
“Yes, I was cleared by the police. I was never arrested.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re innocent. And it doesn’t mean you’re telling the truth about Plum.”
She has come full circle, traveling forty years in one sentence. It’s rather impressive, actually. But I don’t think a compliment will make her untie me.
Norma closes the file and pulls the handle on the chair, tilting it upright.
“What are you going to do to me?” I ask.
She stands up, towering over me. Her small eyes are a brownish green color. Moss surrounded by mud. She looks around the room like she’s searching for the answer. If the situation was reversed, I know what I would do to her. And it wouldn’t be pretty.
Norma looks down at my hand. I’m still trying to get to my pocket.
“Don’t bother reaching for the knife,” she says. “I found it while you were taking a nap.”
CHAPTER 40
She walks out of the room. I fight against the panic. A second ago, it felt like I had a real chance. Now, I’m not sure. Maybe I don’t have a whole lot of time left on this planet, but the idea of it ending like this—at the hands ofNorma—is enough to make an old woman panic.
She rattles around in the kitchen. I twist the upper half of my body, a futile attempt to find a weak spot in this chair. No such luck. Or, more likely, not enough strength in my body.
I test to see if I can stand up with the chair still attached.
Thepain.
It tears through my back, forcing me right back down. I take a few deep breaths and try again. The second time, I’m prepared. The pain is still there, but it isn’t as shocking.
I stand up but can’t walk or move with my ankles bound together. Maybe I can hop a little. Or maybe I’ll finally break my hip. I sit down again and look around. Nothing helpful on the coffee table. Not unless I break one of those porcelain figurines and try to cut the rope. But Norma might hear that.
