A Denial of Death Read Free Page B

mean to poor Ralph."
    "They had their twentieth anniversary recently," Josie said. "Poor Ralph. I hope she wasn't miserable to him the whole time. I'd like to think they were madly in love once. Maybe she's only turned mean in the last few years, and he sees her through the lens of the memories of good times."
    "Until he killed her," Betty said, obviously relishing the thought. "If he finally saw her for what she really is, it must have come as a shock. That's probably why he did it."
    "You think he snapped and killed her?" Helen was mildly disappointed by their theory. It was such a cliché, the basic plot of countless novels and movies. It might have been reasonably fresh when Hitchcock did Rear Window , but it wasn't up to the two women's usual standards of gossip. "I suppose he buried her in the back yard and told everyone she'd gone to visit family?"
    "Something like that," Betty said. "We can't imagine why else he'd be trying to hide the fact that she's gone. Detective Peterson said there hasn't been a missing persons report filed, so there's nothing the police can do. He just laughed when we said we'd be willing to file the missing persons report if Ralph won't do it. He told us to mind our own business and go back to making doilies."
    "As if," Josie said with disdain. "I've crocheted just about everything it's possible to crochet, from caps to parking-meter cozies, but I've never, ever, ever so much as thought about making a doily."
    "Not that there's anything wrong with doilies." Betty nodded toward a woman hunched over a lacy, fine-thread creation who was taking advantage of the light from the huge front windows. "Donna over there makes the most beautiful tatted doilies you could ever imagine. Sells them on Etsy for a pittance, but it pays for her supplies, and she's just glad to find someone who appreciates her work."
    "We'd do the investigation into Angie's disappearance ourselves," Josie said, "but it would take too long to get permission to leave the nursing home. You don't have that problem."
    "Will you do it for us?" Betty said.
    "I'm really not qualified to investigate a missing person," Helen said, although she was intrigued by the idea. She understood how helpless the two women felt, completely dependent on others to get the answers they wanted, and unable to convince anyone to take them seriously. If Helen turned them down, she'd be acting as dismissively as Detective Peterson. They were probably just imagining a problem, but it would be easy enough to set their fears at rest. A brief visit to Angie's house should confirm she was alive and well and simply too busy to do her usual charity work.
    It wasn't like Helen had anything else that urgent to do this week. The world would probably be a better place if she did not make another chemo cap. "I'll think about it and let you know when I bring in my next chemo cap."
    The two women exchanged a glance before Betty said, "We were sort of hoping you'd do the investigating instead of crocheting."

CHAPTER TWO
     
    Helen emerged from the nursing home’s barely adequate air conditioning, into the stifling heat, to find the Papa Bear vehicle she'd arrived in rolling to a stop in front of her. She didn't how Jack did it, but he could appear completely immersed in a game on his smartphone, oblivious to the world, and then, before she herself knew she was ready to leave, he'd be putting the car into gear to pick her up.
    Jack had the ridiculous stepladder set up next to the front passenger door by the time she'd reached the bottom of the nursing home's stairs. She knew he would have preferred her to sit in the rear, the way a proper passenger would do, but he also preferred to work for her rather than the limo company, so he didn't complain. At least not to her. He was as much of a gossip as Betty and Josie, which sometimes came in handy. Unlike Helen, Jack had lived in Wharton all his life, so he was related to half the residents, knew the other half, and could fill