Chapter 10

D oreen woke the next morning, eager to get started on tracking down this Potter or Pengo person, who supposedly committed the B&E that Brandon had served time for. The fact that Brandon was now dead, shot while driving his semi, piqued her interest. She started by requesting files from the public archives. Then she thought about it for a moment and, frowning, picked up the phone and called Mack.

“What’s up?” he asked, distracted.

“Can you pull Brandon’s old files, please?” There was silence for a bit, and she braced herself.

“Why?” he asked cautiously.

“One, we know that he’s dead, and that’s very unfortunate. Two, we know he was murdered, which is even more unfortunate. Three, apparently he was spouting off about an older case—a cold case, I might add—that he served time for but still claimed he was innocent.”

“Seriously?” Mack asked, with a sigh.

“Yeah, seriously.” She was beaming with success at having found a way to get involved in Mack’s current case.

“So, you’re telling me that because Brandon opened up some protest file, it’s something you get to work on?”

She didn’t say anything, just waited for him to get on with it.

“Let me look into it, and I’ll get back to you.” He promptly ended the call.

Not exactly the answer she was hoping for, but he didn’t tell her to butt out, so that was a good thing. She had to remember that what she was doing was still technically skirting the edges of their agreement. It was an agreement she fully intended to abide if she could, but she was still okay with evading the rules somewhat.

Of course, if something was going on here that needed to be settled, she was perfectly capable of skirting issues when needed. Still, she didn’t want to piss off Mack unnecessarily. She certainly didn’t want that between them, so she often endured this wait until he came around phase, until he saw it from her side of the fence.

When he called her back a little bit later, he admitted, “You’re right. He did open a file with the freedom group, asking to be exonerated and saying he was innocent of one of these charges. They refused to look at it,” he shared, “because he admitted to being guilty to all the others.”

“So he did serve time for the others, but he also served time for the one in question. Despite all of that, he remained adamant that he didn’t do it.”

“And?” he asked curiously. “What’s the point of opening this if nobody is left to prove he’s innocent?”

“Potentially somebody is guilty of a crime and is still walking around free,” she pointed out. “I get that the whole guilty thing is less of a concern for you, but it is a concern for me.”

He groaned. “Anyway, I pulled the file, and I’m sending you the bits I can send you right now.”

“You could send me all of it,” she protested. “Brandon’s gone, and it’s not as if I can ask him for permission. I already have a box of stuff.”

“What do you mean, you have a box?” His tone sharpened.

“I have a box I got from his business partner who happens to be…” She hesitated and then sighed. “God help me for saying this, and Lord knows these are words I never thought I would have to utter, but I got it from one of Nan’s old flames.”

“Good Lord, another one?” he exclaimed.

“Apparently she was a popular girl in her day.” Doreen chuckled.

“Right,” Mack muttered. “Okay, so this box, what about it?”

“Somewhere in here, according to Jimmy, is the information on the guy who really did that particular B&E.”

“In that case I’ll need to see it, won’t I?” he asked briskly.

“Which is why I’m in the process of scanning it all in, so I can send it to you.”

“Would you really send it to me?” he asked, with a note of humor.

“Of course,” she declared, “But I might have held back a little bit.”

“Yeah, so why am I imagining that your definition of a little bit could be different from mine?” he asked, with a snort.

“Oh, don’t be silly. I’m almost done, and I can send this off fairly soon.” She ran the last few pages through as she talked to him, hoping he would let her in on any news on the current case, but, of course, Mack being Mack, he didn’t give her a thing. “Okay. All done. I’ll just email this all to you.” She quickly forwarded the scans to him, quite proud of the continuing improvement in her electronic skills. “I think that’s it, but there could be other stuff in the box. As I go through it, I’ll send you what I find.”

“Do that.” Then he added, “Please.” And, with that, he quickly rang off.

She wondered if it was just a little bit too quickly. She wanted to call him back and ask him what he was trying to hide but figured that wouldn’t get her very far. Soon afterward, she poured herself a cup of coffee, and went outside to enjoy the view. It was a good day, or so she hoped it would be. Then Nan called her.

“What’d you find?” she asked.

“Nothing yet,” Doreen replied. “I’m still going through the box. I scanned in a bunch of stuff and sent it off to Mack.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Nan noted, with that air of knowledge. “We have to keep Mack in the loop, don’t we?”

“If we want to keep interfering in his cases, then yes,” Doreen stated, “or we’re not likely to get far.”

“It’s not that we want to keep interfering,” Nan pointed out brightly, “but more about moving on this.”

Doreen sighed. “I’m not sure everybody would agree with you.”

“Of course not,” Nan muttered. “I think I’ll try to get him into the home here.”

“Who?”

“Jimmy, of course. Remember we talked to him about it briefly.”

“Right,” she muttered, remembering the way Nan was around him, “And you think he would be happier there, or will he raise Cain?”

After a moment’s pause Nan replied, “He’ll undoubtedly do both, but I think it’s still better for him.”

“It may well be better for him, just as long as you’re aware of the potential consequences.”

“Yep, though that’s not my problem,” she declared, with a cheeky tone.

“If you say so.” Doreen almost groaned out loud at the thought of the lothario everybody seemed to be so worried about taking on all the women in the retirement home.

“He doesn’t need to be lonely, and plenty of people are here for him to socialize with,” Nan stated.

“I can’t argue with that, Nan. I suggest you try calling him to see if he’s even interested in Rosemoor.”

“I already have, and he’s coming to take a look. He admits it’s only because I say the food is so good that he’s even contemplating it. He’s had a thing about avoiding a retirement home all these years.”

“I certainly agree that—for some people, at a certain point in their lives—it seems to be a very good option.”

“Exactly, and I think that would apply in his case as well.”

“If you say so,” Doreen muttered.

“I’ll leave you to your work now. I’ll wait for him out front, as he’s already on his way.”

“Already?” she asked in astonishment.

“Yep,… already. Absolutely no point in waiting when you’re our age.”

Something about the way she said that made Doreen’s eyes widen. “You’re not talking…”

“Never mind,” Nan cut her off. “I won’t bore you with details.” Then she quickly ended the call.

“Good Lord, Nan. Whoever would have thought you would be such a trial at this stage of your life?” Doreen muttered, as she stared off in the distance.

Who would have thought that life in an old folk’s home could be so filled with all these clandestine activities? Yet they all seemed to be perfectly happy and healthy, moving forward in whatever way they wanted. It was hard to argue with any of that, especially considering the reality that Nan was often at the leading edge of the trouble down there. As long as she could continue to be good and to stay out everybody’s way, Doreen shouldn’t have any more problems at Rosemoor to deal with. But, with Nan, that was never an easy thing to do.