Sandra asked me again about caving in so easily to Carol Grant. I didn't want to implicate Albert so I said, “Maybe it's not such a bad thing that I left Silver Acres. This murder investigation has become an obsession with me. It's time I got away from it for a while.”
“But what will you do here?” Sandra asked. “You'll be alone all day, except for the dogs. And most of your friends live at Silver Acres.”
“I can always weed the flowers or the vegetable garden. And since I haven't been permanently banished from the premises of Silver Acres I can still go there and visit my friends. And there are lots of books I want to read…” I stopped, at a loss for words. I wouldn't admit it, but Sandra's question had been nagging at me all day.
“You need something stimulating to do to keep your brain working,” Mark said. “Like crossword puzzles. Otherwise, you'll get senile.”
“I'm better at math puzzles than crossword puzzles.”
“Okay, here's one for you. You have 12 metal balls and a balance scale. The balls look identical but one is heavier or lighter than the others. Using the balance scale for no more than three weighings, determine which is the odd ball and whether it is heavier or lighter than the others.”
“I think I'm the oddball,” I said. “Okay, I'll work on in my copious free time.”
The front door closed and two playful dogs burst into the kitchen, looking for attention, followed by Albert. Albert had the smile of a man who has just accomplished something that is giving him a great deal of pleasure. I suspected what he had accomplished was getting me where he could keep an eye on me so I would stop embarrassing him with Carol.
“I'll get you a beer, Dad,” Sandra said, going to the refrigerator.
“Thanks. I need one,” Albert said, reclining in one of the padded chairs.
He had on the standard shorts and T-shirt uniform, but had sweat somewhat more than the rest of us. As the only Morgan with a potbelly he could use some regular exercise. His weekly tennis games weren't enough.
“I want to take this opportunity to thank all of you for helping move me today,” I said, trying to be sincere. “And Albert, thank you for letting me have the downstairs bedroom so I don't have to cart my old bones up and down stairs all the time.”
“I know you can still climb stairs, Mother,” Albert said, “so you don't have to rub it in. But I do think you're better off on the first floor.”
“There's one more thing we have to think about today,” I said. “I don't know about the rest of you but I'm famished. I'd invite you all to Silver Acres for one final feed in the dining room, but I suspect that none of us wants to get dressed up.” I remembered San Diego. “How about pizza? I'll buy.”
This suggestion met with general agreement. Sandra and Mark were dispatched to get the pizza since that was probably faster than trying to give directions for a delivery person to find Albert's house at the end of the unpaved road.
Alone with Albert, Winston and the dogs, I said, “The next thing we have to worry about is Sunday dinner tomorrow. Who is going to be here?”
“Well, everybody who is here today, plus Carol.”
“Carol Grant?”
“Of course Carol Grant. And I want you to be on your best behavior.”
How cozy. Dinner with my persecutor and her henchman.
CHAPTER 22
I recognized Carol's Mercedes as it came out of the woods and negotiated the long driveway that led up to the side of the house. I was outside picking flowers to be used as a centerpiece for the dinner table and mentally preparing myself to be gracious to her.
Carol parked and got out of her car; she wore a thin, summery dress and I had to admit that she looked good for her age. She waved to me. King panted nearby in the heat; she went to him and stroked his neck, saying, “Nice boy. Nice boy.”
Then she retrieved a bottle of wine from her car and came up the sidewalk. When she got to me she said, “You have such a nice dog, Lillian. I'm sure he's very happy here.”
I didn't bother to correct her in regard to King's sex. Instead, my newly gracious persona said, “I love your dress,” while I wondered whether I could train King to depart from her usual placid, non-barking disposition and become a savage killer in the presence of Carol.
As we went through the ritual of preparing the dinner and sitting down at the table I was grateful for the presence of Sandra, Winston and Mark. I could turn most of my attention to them and didn't have to communicate as much with Carol. I even convinced Sandra to let me feed Winston his canned fruit, which he had personally picked out of the refrigerator. He had become a connoisseur of baby food.
The conversation stayed away from Silver Acres and my abrupt departure there-from. However, as the meal progressed I grew tired of seeing the moose on the table that nobody would talk about, so I said to Carol, “Have you found somebody to move into my apartment yet?”
She didn't show any surprise at the question, and said, “As you know, we have quite a long waiting list. I suspect that we'll have somebody in your place within a week, probably a man and wife, since your apartment has that addition. We may paint the inside while we have the chance, but there isn't any repair work needed. You took very good care of it.”
“Thanks. I hope your new tenants won't make as much trouble as I did.”
Albert scowled at me, but Carol said, smiling, “We're going to have them lobotomized before they move in.”
“I guess you know by now,” I said, “that Gerald's bequest to Silver Acres is $500,000, not just $100,000.”
This time I got to her; she couldn't hide her surprise. “Where did you hear that?”
“Oh, you know me, always nosing around.”
“That's…that's wonderful! I hope you're right. It would certainly help with our long-term financial well- being.”
At this point Albert changed the subject with another look at me that said, “Shut up and behave yourself.” He always kidded me about the fact that I drove a Mercedes, whereas all he and Sandra could afford were Toyotas. Now he said, “Each of our factions has gained an adherent. Mark drives a Toyota while Carol drives a Mercedes.”
“Mine is a very old Mercedes,” I said, “while Carol's is brand new.”
“It's a year old,” she said, somewhat defensively.
“Tell me, what marvelous improvements have been added in the last 15 years?”
“It has a digital security system. I have to punch in four digits before I can start it.”
“Mine has that. Fortunately, the numbers are the month and year Albert was born so it's easy to remember.”
“Gogi may not remember what happened yesterday,” Sandra said, “but she can remember any number.”
“My code is seven, three, five, one,” Carol said. “How would you remember that?”
I thought for a moment. “All the odd single-digit prime numbers, beginning with lucky seven, then down, up, down, ending at the bottom.”
“And my car has an additional anti-theft feature, a transmission lock. If you key in an additional four digits it becomes locked in Park for a fixed amount of time, like a time-lock on a safe. The code is seven, two, three, one. How would you remember that?”
“I'll have to think about it,” I said. “Let's have dessert.”
I signed up for dish detail with Sandra and Mark, while Albert and Carol took a walk down by the creek. I was
