There Was an Old Woman

Chapter Sixteen


“So what do you make of this?” Mina said. She was standing at the checkout counter at Sparkles showing Finn the work permit she’d snitched.

He examined it. “I . . .” His gaze traveled from the front of the store to the back, and he lowered his voice. “Where’d you get this?”

“From Angela Quintanilla’s house. Have you seen what a mess it is? I went to pay a condolence call and found the house roped off and this stuck to the front door.”

“And you helped yourself?”

Mina fiddled with the top button of her sweater and smiled. “It blew off the door, and I picked it up.”

“So that’s your story and you’re sticking to it? You know, one day they’re going to arrest you for—”

“For what? I was picking up litter. Pfff. Besides, they wouldn’t want to draw attention, would they? And there’s another house not two doors away from this one that’s already been demolished. Did you know that?”

“I heard, but—”

“So who’s responsible? I’d like to know that, and I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

“I don’t know anything more than you do.”

“But you talk to everyone. Surely—”

“Haven’t heard a thing.”

“So I think you should find out.”

“But—”

“You’re an attorney, aren’t you?”

“Was.”

The bell over the front door tinkled. Mina looked over. It was Sandra Ferrante’s daughter. She dropped a slip of paper as she entered the store. Stooped and picked it up.

When Mina turned back, Finn had slid the permit under the mat on the counter.

“Hi,” the girl said as she picked up a shopping basket from the stack nested by the register. She looked tired and frazzled.

“Hey,” Finn said. “Need help finding anything?”

The girl consulted her crumpled scrap of paper. “Roach bomb?”

“Over there, against the wall,” Finn said, pointing to the far side of the store.

“Lightbulbs?”

“They’re over there, too.”

Mina followed Finn’s gaze as he watched the girl walk off. When he turned back, Mina winked at him.

He chuckled. “You’re entirely too observant for your own good.”

“Have to be blind as a bat not to see,” she said. “So that permit. You’ll look into it?”

Finn took the permit out again and read it, front and back. “SV Construction Management. Soundview?”

“Do you know them, or are you guessing? Because guesswork I can do myself. You have a computer, don’t you? Isn’t that what they’re for?”

“Mrs. Yetner.” He shook his head.

“Do you need a retainer?” Mina found her change purse in her bag, opened it, and pulled out a neat roll of bills—about a hundred dollars. She thrust it at him. “Here.”

“You are relentless,” Finn said, taking the money from her. He opened the roll, peeled off a single, and tucked it into his shirt pocket. “There. That’s plenty,” he said, giving her back the rest.

“That’s ridiculous,” Mina said. But she put the money away before he could change his mind.

The girl brought her basket to the register, and Mina watched as Finn began ringing up the items. When he got to the third frozen chicken potpie, he said, “Gourmet dinner?”

“Easy dinner,” the girl said.

Finn bagged the groceries in two bags. Mina picked up one of them. “I can take this for you,” she said heading for the door.

“You really don’t have to,” the girl said, following her outside.

“I don’t mind,” Mina said, and she didn’t. The bag was light, and it was always more pleasant walking with a companion. Besides, the girl looked dead on her feet and Mina wanted to be sure she got back in one piece.

“See you later?” Finn called after them.

The girl gave an absentminded wave.

Mina and Sandra Ferrante’s daughter walked in companionable silence until they were a half block from home.

“Why did you take the bus?” Mina asked.

“My mother’s car won’t start.”

That explained it. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another.”

“You can say that again.”

They were in front of Mina’s house. “Thanks,” the girl said, taking the grocery bag.

“So how’s your mother doing?”

“Fine. Good, actually.”

Mina gave her a long look. The poor thing couldn’t even meet her gaze.