There wasn’t enough time for the kind of makeup job needed to repair the ravages of Ali’s lack of sleep. Her mother was kind enough to point that out as soon as she stepped into the kitchen at the Sugarloaf Cafe.
“What did you do last night, go out and tie one on?” Edie asked as Ali hurried into the locker room to collect that morning’s clean sweatshirt. “You look like death warmed over.”
“Gee, thanks, Mom,” Ali returned. “You really know how to cheer a girl up.”
“Well, you should be cheered, “Edie added. “I’m firing you.”
“You’re what?”
“Firing you. Laying you off. But not until nine o’clock or so. That’s when Susan’s due to show up.”
“Who’s Susan?”
“Jan’s cousin, Susan Lockner. From Glendale. The Glendale by Phoenix, not the one in California. She retired from working at Denny’s years ago, but Jan says she can still sling hash with the best of them. She and Jan talked it over last night and Susan’s agreed to come up and help us out for a while. For as long as it takes is what Jan said, which I take to mean until your father’s back on his feet. She’ll be staying at Jan’s place.”
“Yup,” Jan said, appearing in the service window. “I’m looking forward to it. It’ll be like a perpetual sleepover. I’ll bet I can still whip her butt at canasta.”
“But…” Ali began.
“No buts,” Edie declared firmly. “Dad and I talked it over yesterday. We decided it’s not fair for us to impose our troubles on you any longer, especially since it’s all due to your father’s own foolishness.”
“It’s not imposing,” Ali said, but Edie wasn’t listening.
“And I’m sure you have plenty of other things to attend to,” she continued undeterred. “Now let’s get breakfast out the way. I have no idea when that consultant is going to show up, most likely right in the middle of some disaster or other.”
As Ali headed for the dining room, she felt more than a little bereft. That was surprising since it was over losing a job she had never wanted in the first place.
I’ll probably feel the same way when it’s time for Sam to go back to Flagstaff, she thought.
At first Ali kept a wary eye on all the customers coming and going, paying close attention to each stranger who came through the door and wondering if this one or that one might turn out to be Ben Witherspoon. Eventually, though, things got too busy for her to continue paying that kind of attention. By the time Dave Holman showed up at his usual 8:30, Ali, suffering from lack of sleep, was ready to admit defeat. She found herself watching the clock in anticipation of Susan’s arrival.
“Will I see you at the funeral today?” Dave asked as she poured his first cup of coffee.
She nodded. “But not here anymore,” she added. “I’ve been told my services are no longer required. It turns out I’m being replaced by a food-service professional.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Dave said. “I was just getting used to having you growl at me every morning. It was almost like being married again.”
Ali was searching for an appropriately biting comeback when she saw the telltale twitch in the corners of his mouth and realized he was teasing her. “You should be so lucky,” she said.
Susan Lockner showed up a few minutes later and a good fifteen minutes early. She marched straight into the kitchen and squeezed into the only 3X Sugarloaf sweatshirt to be had.
“Time to stand down, honey,” she said, barreling up to Ali and bodily removing the coffeepot from her hand. “Reinforcements have arrived.”
Ali obligingly walked around the counter and settled on the empty stool next to Dave.
“Hey, Edie,” he called in the direction of the kitchen. “Since Ali’s no longer hired help, can I buy her breakfast?”
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Edie returned. “If her husband couldn’t afford her, I wouldn’t advise you to try it.”
Ali blushed. She had done her best to keep her marital situation well under Sedona’s gossip radar. Obviously Edie Larson felt no such compunction.
Dave looked at Ali in surprise. “Does that mean your marriage is on the rocks, too?” he asked.
“Looks that way,” Ali said.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“It could be worse,” Ali told him. “After all, I don’t have young kids to worry about the way some people do.”
Dave nodded. “Lucky for you,” he said. “But still, if I had known, I wouldn’t have given you such a hard time.”
“It’s okay,” Ali replied. “I can take the heat, but in compensation, I will let you buy me breakfast. Besides, I need to ask you a couple of questions.”
“Order first,” he said. “Let’s see what this new girl can do.”
The term girl didn’t exactly fit. After all, Susan was about as far into her seventies as Jan was. She was also pushing three hundred pounds, but once behind the counter, she knew exactly what to do, and she was more than capable of trading banter with the rowdy cable installers in the far corner booth.
Ali chose oatmeal and whole-wheat toast.
“What questions?” Dave asked when she finished ordering. “About Reenie? …Did you ever have a chance to talk to Lee Farris?”
“I did,” Ali answered, “but nothing much came of it. As far as he’s concerned, she committed suicide and that’s it. Case closed.”
“But you’re still not convinced.”
“Let’s just say I have some concerns,” Ali said.
“You think someone else is responsible?”
Ali nodded. “Maybe.”
“Who?”
“Her husband has a girlfriend, for one thing,” Ali said. “What about him? Maybe he got greedy. With half a million dollars in insurance proceeds there for the taking, Howie and his new pal are going to be left with a lot more money to throw around in view of Reenie’s sudden death. Had her ALS had been allowed to run its course, Howie probably would have been looking at all kinds of medical bills in co-pays alone.”
“Could have been,” Dave corrected. “But that’s only one concern. What else?”
“The supposed suicide note,” Ali said. “The alleged suicide note. It was written on a computer. There’s no signature on it. Anyone could have typed it, printed it, and planted it in Reenie’s vehicle. And there’s no indication Reenie wrote it on her own computer, by the way, at least not the one at work. There’s no trace of it in any of her files.”
“You know that for sure?” Dave asked. “My understanding was that Lee had taken charge of her computer.”
“He did,” Ali said. “But Andrea Rogers, Reenie’s secretary, had a back-up copy of Reenie’s files. So she looked. According to her there was no sign of any note.”
“What about a home computer?” Dave asked. “She could have used one she had there.”
“Detective Farris says not,” Ali said. “His idea was that maybe she stopped off at a Kinkos and wrote and printed the note there while she was down in Phoenix, but I don’t think so.” Ali didn’t bother mentioning the greeting card issue. That was a non-starter. “And then there’s the thing about possible treatments,” she added.
“What treatments?” Dave asked. “I didn’t think there were any treatments for ALS.”
“There aren’t any cures, that’s for sure,” Ali admitted. “There are some things that may help stave off symptoms for a while. And although there’s lots of research going on, there’ve been no real breakthroughs. A lot of what’s out there may be outright frauds-things that play on people’s hopes and fears. One in particular has an initial entry fee of $80,000. What you get back for that amount of money, I have no idea.”
Dave Holman whistled. “That much? Was Reenie involved in anything like that?”
“Maybe. I talked to her father about it last night. According to Ed Holzer, she was considering signing up for something. That he expected she’d fight ALS to the bitter end. I thought so, too. Which brings me to the bank.”
