J. Jance - Edge of Evil

“So had she talked to you about her…situation?” Ali asked.

Andrea nodded. “Of course,” she said. “As soon as she got the diagnosis she told me about it. She said we needed to make a plan, and to start looking for someone to take over as executive director.”

“Had she found anyone?” Ali asked.

“In a week?” Andrea returned. “Are you kidding? Of course she hadn’t found anyone. Where would we find someone willing to work as hard as she did? I’m not sure we’ll even be able to keep going, although I know she’d want us to.” Andrea blew noisily into a tissue, tossed that one and reached for another.

“All I can think of,” she continued, “is that her doctor down in Scottsdale must have given her some really bad news. But why didn’t she say something to me when she called. I couldn’t have done anything to help-nobody could-but at least I could have been there for her, could have listened to her and talked to her. She wouldn’t have been so alone, and maybe…”

It struck Ali that Andrea’s comment about Reenie taking her own life without a word of warning to anyone was the workplace equivalent of Matt’s plaintive “Didn’t she love us anymore?” That was Ali’s complaint as well, and it took a moment for her to process the rest of what Andrea had said.

“You talked to her after her doctor’s appointment?” Ali asked.

“Yes,” Andrea replied. “She told me she was stopping by the bank and then she was on her way back here.”

“To the office?”

“That’s what she said, but she wasn’t here when I left. I assumed she’d changed her mind and gone home instead.”

“Which bank?” Ali asked.

“She didn’t say. That’s what the cops wanted to know, too-which bank? I told them I didn’t know. I think they use Bank of America, but I have no idea which branch. Detective Farris said he’d be able to find out. He said she probably needed to cash a check or something, but if she was going to drive herself off a cliff, why would she need money?”

Good question, Ali thought. “So you have spoken to the cops about all this?” she asked.

“Over the weekend,” Andrea said. “The first time was on Saturday afternoon. They came to my house. Then they came here again on Monday, after they found the body. They wanted to know if Reenie was upset about anything. Talk about a stupid question. With that kind of diagnosis, who wouldn’t be upset? Still, she acted more relieved than anything.”

“Relieved?”

“She’d been feeling sick for months-just not herself-and no one could tell her what was wrong. But once what was wrong had a name-even though it was awful-at least she knew what she was up against and nobody could call her a hypochondriac.”

“Somebody called her that?” Ali asked.

Andrea nodded. “Her sister. Sometime around Christmas. So once Reenie knew it was ALS, she was gung-ho to fight it. At least that’s what she told me. That she was going to research it, find out everything she could, and see if there were any programs she might qualify for-you know, experimental things that might help.”

“She said that?” Ali asked. “That she was going to try to be accepted into one of the ongoing protocols?”

“That was just a few days ago,” Andrea added. “What would have made her change her mind?”

Ali shrugged. “I can’t imagine,” she said.

Walking past Andrea’s desk, Ali took a step toward the doorway of what had been and still was Reenie’s private office. The office space itself was modern enough, but the furniture was old-fashioned wooden stuff that had come from the other building. Given a choice between purchasing new playground equipment for the day-care center or new furniture for Reenie’s office, there had been no contest. Playground equipment had won hands down.

Lots of people decorated their offices with framed degrees and plaques-walls of honor. None of Reenie’s degrees were on display. Instead, most of the walls were papered over with a colorful collection of greeting cards in all shapes and sizes. Scattered among the cards were pieces of childish handmade art.

“She did love cards,” Ali observed.

“Isn’t that the truth,” Andrea agreed with a sigh. “She went through more cards than anybody I ever knew. She sent cards for big occasions, little occasions, and no occasions at all. With her gone, that Hallmark store out at the mall will probably end up going out of business.”

Ali thought of the greeting card Reenie had sent her-the one that had arrived after Reenie’s death and was still in Ali’s purse.

“She couldn’t stand to throw any of them away,” Andrea continued. “When Detective Farris came by for the computer, I asked him if it was okay if I took the cards down, boxed them up, and saved them for her kids. He said not yet, that I should stay out of her office until they gave me the all clear. So that’s what I’m doing-leaving things as is.”

And that was how the office looked-as is. Files lay scattered here and there on the desk as though Reenie had just stepped out and expected to return to her work at any moment.

“Detective Farris took her computer?” Ali asked.

“He said he was looking for a note. He said if she wrote one it’s probably still out on the mountain somewhere and they haven’t found it yet. He thought she might have written it on her computer. I told him she wouldn’t have, that she’d have found a card-just the right one, too. I tried to tell Detective Farris that, but he looked at me like I was nuts, so I shut up.”

“She sent me a card that day,” Ali observed.

Andrea looked at Ali eagerly. “On Thursday? From Scottsdale?”

Ali nodded. “It was a cute card-a friendship card. She said she thought she was in for a bumpy ride. I don’t think she was talking about driving off a cliff.”

“That’s all she said?” Andrea asked. She sounded disappointed.

Ali nodded. “That’s all.”

“Maybe she was talking about Howie,” Andrea suggested softly.

“Howie?” Ali asked. “What about him?”

Chewing her lower lip again, Andrea stalled. “Nothing,” she said.

“Tell me,” Ali insisted

“I think she and Howie were having marital difficulties,” Andrea answered reluctantly. “She came storming into the office a couple of weeks ago and said, ‘Remind me again why I got married?’ And I said, ‘Well, you probably wanted to have kids.’ She shook her head and said, ‘Kids aren’t the problem. Husbands are.’ And then she came in here and slammed the door. Reenie wasn’t like that, you know. She didn’t do temper tantrums. She spent most of the morning on the phone that day. I know she made an appointment to see Mike Hopkins.”

“Who’s he?” Ali asked.

“An attorney here in town. He specializes in divorces.”

“She was going to get a divorce?”

Andrea shrugged. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I do know she made an appointment to see him. Then when the diagnosis came in, she canceled it. I guess she figured that with everything else that was going on, there wasn’t much point in going to the trouble of getting a divorce-that she’d just put up with whatever was going on for a while longer.”

“Do you know what was going on?” Ali demanded.

“It’s just gossip. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“Tell me,” Ali prodded.

“I heard Howie has a girlfriend,” Andrea said in a small voice. “I think she’s one of his students.”

Out in the car, Ali could barely contain her outrage. Reenie had found out she was dying and that her husband was having an affair all at the same time. That was more than a mere “bumpy road.” She drove by the house on Kachina Trail on her way out of town. She wanted to confront Howie. She wanted to ask him whether or not it was true. Fortunately, he wasn’t home. Still. And maybe that was a good thing, she reflected, as she headed on down the road toward Sedona. Reenie was dead. So what if Howie was having an affair? What business of it was Ali’s? Besides, how much of the anger she felt toward Howie should have been directed elsewhere-at Paul, for example, for being a two-timing clod? Or at herself, for being stupid?