“So, we wait until he wakes up? It could be hours before that happens. He could hide the evidence.”
Meghan nodded.
“What would you do?”
“You mean if I was still police chief or as a concerned citizen?”
“I need you to help me with this,” Lester said.
It was a plea from a man who knew working in a job alone that put him in contact with alcohol was a dangerous mix. Eugene’s body odor gave off the telltale aroma of someone binge drinking. It was the kind of thing Meghan recognized from her job. It was the kind of thing that Lester feared because an addict never forgot. The body remembered when the brain wanted to block the signs.
“I think there’s another way we can handle this,” Meghan said. “We need to hurry because you want to catch him still asleep. We need to go see Joane.”
Chapter Eighteen
It wasn’t easy walking into Mountain Manor again. Meghan felt the stares; she imagined she heard the wicked rumors echoing through the stairwell and the long corridor that led to the apartment. Lester knocked on the door. They had to wait, hearing the television blaring inside. Lester moved to hit again when the door opened.
Cecil stood in his Henley shirt, sweatpants, and white socks.
“Hello,” he said. He looked around Lester to see Meghan standing out of the way in the hall. When he made eye contact with Meghan, he opened the door wider. “Come in.”
Lester and Meghan moved into the house. The stacks of dirty dishes in the sink, the ripe scent of cumin and grease from the pan, told Meghan the family had a modest dinner of something resembling taco seasoned ground beef on white bread. She saw Earl sitting in the recliner watching TV. Cecil left the front door area where it overlapped the kitchenette.
“Hey, Earl,” Lester said.
The man jolted, he hadn’t heard them at the door. He fixed the chair in the upright position and stood to face them. Socks, boxer shorts, and a t-shirt, Meghan saw Earl’s embarrassment. She wasn’t concerned and didn’t care.
“Is Joane around?” Meghan asked.
“Mom’s in the bedroom,” Cecil said.
It was the most offered as he retreated to the youth bedroom and closed the door. Meghan saw something changed in the room but didn’t see enough inside to know what was different.
“We need to talk to Joane about some business,” Lester said. He pulled off the beaver ushanka. He switched headgear depending on the weather and how much outside work he had to do. “It’s important.”
“She hasn’t been well since, well, you know.” Earl rubbed his neck. “Let me go see if she’ll come out.”
“It won’t take a minute,” Meghan said.
She wanted to see what changed in the bedroom Cecil shared with Christine. It had to wait.
It took a few minutes before Joane appeared. She looked like a broken ghostly version of herself. She didn’t have a lot to offer her children. Cecil needed a new winter coat that fit him. They had unbalanced meals. The place was messy, and Joane wasn’t functioning at her best because one of the two precious things that mattered most in her life had disappeared. Meghan knew the children, for all they had, were cared for and loved. It was evident in Cecil and Christine’s bedroom. Someone spent more time cleaning their room over the rest of the house.
“Hi, Joane,” Lester said. “We needed to ask you a few questions.”
“Is this about Chrissy?” The moment she quickly said her daughter’s name, Joane buckled with the word. It physically assaulted her.
“This is about the house where Eugene lives on Rurik Way,” Lester said. He looked at Meghan to take over.
“Lester took the time to check with the title company regarding the legal owner of the house.”
“Eugene owns the place,” Earl said. “He got it from Cliff when he died.”
“Do you know if he has any paperwork for the property?” Meghan asked. “Something like a quitclaim deed?”
“What’s that?” Joane asked after she sniffled and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her robe.
“Its legal paperwork in Alaska used to transfer real estate property between two parties. The grantor gives away their interest in the property to the grantee.” Lester explained the principle using his hands, gesturing from left to right representing the transaction. “I checked the title company to see if they had a quitclaim deed on file. They couldn’t find any in the property listing. If that is something Clifford did with Eugene, maybe Eugene has a copy of it.”
“So, I don’t understand. What does it matter?” Joane asked.
“Lester also checked with the courts to see if you filed a divorce decree or annulment.”
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “We separated, but never got around to getting a divorce. Is that a problem?”
“No, no, you’re fine. You might have entitlement to benefits if Clifford had anything through his work. Something for the children,” she said and waved her hand. “What I’m, I mean, Lester wants to know is if you can give him access to enter the house.”
“That’s Eugene’s house,” Earl said.
“No, not legally, not if it’s still in Clifford’s name. Which it is,” Meghan said. “And technically, since you and Clifford never got divorced, the house belongs to Joane as the legal owner to Clifford’s estate.”
“Is that true?”
Lester nodded. “Right now, we need your permission to enter the house as the legal owner. If you want to dispute Eugene living there, we can handle that another time. Right now, we want to go into the house and talk to Eugene.”
“Is there something wrong with him?” Joane asked.
