Page 41 of Too Old for This
I don’t see a recycling bin anywhere. Kelsie may care a lot about her body, but not the environment. I take the top off the can and sigh. This has become far more unpleasant than I bargained for. But I do it anyway, and root through the remains of her organic this and grass-fed that.
Bingo.
The envelope. The same one the bank gave me when I withdrew the money.
One last thing to do. I return to the bathroom and turn on the shower. The nozzle is pointed toward the center, hitting right around her abdomen. Not high enough to rinse off the blood on the wall.
Perfect.
—
Every part of my body hurts. My legs, arms, and back scream at me, demanding to know why I ask so much of them.
It couldn’t be helped. I sit down in my recliner and review the evening, going over it point by point. It will work. Kelsie died of a freak accident in the home, same as Gary. No one will glance in my direction.
I am particularly pleased about finding the envelope. I probably didn’t need to, especially if they rule it an accidental death, but it’s one less thing for me to worry about.
My anger is gone, too. I didn’t realize how much Kelsie pissed me off.
The audacity of that exercise nut coming after an old woman like me. As if I have $50,000 just lying around, ready to hand over to the first extortionist who comes my way.
Good riddance to her.
I close my eyes as the pain medication starts to do its job. For the first time in over a week, I allow myself to relax.
Yes, there is a chance this will all go sideways, given that I’ve left a body behind. After Spokane, that was my rule: Leave no bodies behind.
But I had to break it for Kelsie. The only other choice would’ve been to take out a loan on my house and pay her, but then she would’ve come back for more and more and more, until my home was gone. That was never going to happen.
Eventually, I get up and head into the kitchen. Time to check my messages, see if I missed anything this evening.
My phone isn’t on the counter.
I always leave it in the same spot so I don’t lose it. But it isn’t there.
CHAPTER 22
My handbag.
I pull out my phone and lay it down on the counter like it’s a bomb.
That’s what it has turned into now, a little time bomb that tracked all my movements this evening. I could probably explain being near the police station and the yoga studio. But not why I was at Kelsie’s house on the night she slipped and fell. The phone knows exactly how long I was there.
That information is not only on my phone. It’s sitting on a server, and a backup server, and a backup for the backup server. Never to be deleted.
Without thinking, I picked up the phone, put it in my bag, and walked out of the house with it. I know better than that, and I did it anyway.
For a long time, I do not move.
Every cell in my body wants me to get up, to do something, to fix this. A flood of possibilities run through my mind.
Go back to her house, get rid of the body.
Find a way to erase the data.
Report the phone stolen.
Every idea has a list of downsides, starting with returning to her house. What are the chances I could enter twice without being noticed? Her neighborhood isn’tthatquiet. It’s not like Bluebell Lane.
