Page 24 of Too Old for This
“Umm…yeah. No. We can’t do that.”
“You can’t find one of your own employees?” I say.
“I don’t know the person who called you.”
“Is there someone who would know?”
“Hang on.”
Transferred again. While on hold, I look up the toll-freenumber on the internet. The search leads me to InterDial, a company registered in Nevada that claims to have call centers available on both coasts. I doubt that.
A knock at the door makes me groan. Just when I was getting somewhere.
Maybe I do need one of those doorbell cameras. I never have before, but lately so many people are popping by and I have to get up every time.
“Mrs.Jones, it’s Detective Kelsie Harlow.” Her voice is strained as she yells, like she doesn’t do it very often.
I grab my walker and pause for a moment to see if Tula chimes in as well. He does not. Kelsie came to my house alone.
This time, I know more about her. She is twenty-nine years old, born and raised in Salem, and she has been a police officer for eight years. Kelsie has a degree in criminal justice and was promoted to detective six months ago.
Today, she is not wearing a suit. She’s dressed in running clothes with sneakers and a lightweight jacket. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was still in high school.
“Hello, Detective. I hope you have good news?”
She shakes her head, her ponytail swishes back and forth. “No. Not yet, unfortunately.”
My shoulders slump, and I back the walker up. “Well, come on in, then. Let’s go to the kitchen.”
“This shouldn’t take long.”
“It’s no problem. No problem at all.”
Fill the teapot, put it on the stove, set two cups with saucers and spoons. Kelsie tells me not to go to any trouble, and I ignore her. “Chamomile or peppermint?”
“Umm…chamomile.”
“That’s my favorite, too.” I smile at her. She seems polite and sweet, but I would be an idiot to underestimate any police officer. “Oh, why am I bothering with tea? I’ve got almost a full pot of fresh coffee.”
“Either one is fine.”
“Coffee,” I say. “Obviously, I haven’t had enough.”
She jumps up to get the milk and sugar, just as Cole did, and it’s like having a little helper in my own kitchen. I’ve never had one of those. Archie never liked preparing food. He showed up only when it was time to eat.
That became Stephanie’s problem, I suppose. And now it will be Morgan’s.
“What brings you here today?” I ask.
“I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by.”
“In the neighborhood?”
“Baycliff is so beautiful, I love it here. And Salem is right down the road.”
“Yes, it is.”
She smiles. “I just wanted to see if you remembered anything else about Plum.”
