Too Sweet to Die by T. Doyle (namjoon book recommendations .TXT) 📕

the license plates. I searched through his cloud photo album and wrote the dates he took the pictures on the back of the photos. If the police searched, I’m sure they could figure out who rented the cars.

I’d give the printed photographs to Tom, but I worried that someone might hack into Oscar’s on-line photo album and delete the pictures. To be safe, I took screen-shots of Oscar’s cloud album, and the pictures he printed and then emailed them to Ray and myself.

I took a closer look at the black SUV in the photo. Although I couldn’t see the license plate, there was a TapOut sticker on the back. I’d seen that car in front of Tyler’s office. I called Ray.

The call connected but I heard Jenny’s voice. “You’re not listening to me.”

“Ma, I’m on the phone.” Ray sounded frustrated. “Tell me you need me to come get you,” he whispered.

“I can hear you just fine, Raylin. Is that Charlie? Tell her what I saw.” Jenny’s voice rose and I was pretty sure all the residents at Sunnyview could hear her.

“Ma saw someone sneaking out of Evie’s room last night. She thinks it was one of Johnny Marino’s kids. She’s sure he’s dropped off drugs.”

“I’ll let Marabel know,” I said.

“She’ll let Marabel know. Now, will you let me talk to her?” Ray asked his mother. He spoke, “Did you find something good?”

“I think so.” I explained to Ray about Oscar’s photos of the rental cars. “And I’m going to talk to Grace, Tyler’s ex, and ask her which of Tyler’s friends she hated.”

“I’ll come with you.” Ray said.

“No way. I’m meeting her at St. Paul’s. It’s safe and she’ll be more likely to gossip without you standing over me.”

Ray grunted. “Fine. But text me when you leave the house and get there.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Dad. Tell Jenny I’ll let you know if Marabel finds more drugs in Evie’s room.” I ended the call and texted Marabel.

Marabel texted back. Jenny was right. Got it on video. Police are investigating, I’ll tell you more later.

I texted Ray. Marabel said guy is on video. Police checking it out.

He replied, She knows and is driving me crazy.

I imagined she was, and that added a smile to my face. I stood, stretching my back and shook my leg to get some feeling back into my toes.

Stupid sciatica.

In the hall closet, the costume box had been pushed to the very back turning the search for a costume into more of an excavation. I pulled out the tub of Christmas ornaments, sleeping bags, a box of old ski pants, boots, and gloves, and a box of trophies.

Remnants of wonderful times hidden away.

I peeled off the cracked cover of the huge blue plastic tub and the scent of stale dust wafted toward me. Drew’s fireman costume, the one I’d made when he was four, brought back the sweetest memories of him wearing it until it no longer fit. I dug further into the box, past princess dresses, the kitten costume, alien, skeleton, and found Drew and Ann’s lederhosen and dirndl costumes from when they played Hansel and Gretel in a school play. I pulled them out and replaced the others. I’m not sure why I wanted to save the old costumes, I had dozens of pictures of the kids wearing them. I should give them all away, except the momma bear in me roared, no!

Was this why Margarita hoarded?

I replaced all the boxes and decided I’d ask the kids if they cared if I donated their old ski clothes and costumes. I didn’t want to become some kind of menopausal, middle-aged housewife with a secret shrine to the past.

I added the costumes to the washing machine and started a load. Eddie and his cousin arrived with a brand-new sliding door. They replaced my broken door and I cleaned out the refrigerator, tossed the garbage, cleaned the bathrooms, and wondered how much Parker Collins’s maid charged.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

St. Paul’s Episcopalian Church was located across the street from my own parish, St. Lawrence. I pulled into the parking lot and waved to Marabel’s mother, Ida.

Ida knelt in front of a flower bed with a trowel in one hand and bulbs in the other. “Charlie, what do you have there?” She pointed her trowel at the costumes.

“I thought I’d drop these off for the Fall Festival,” I smiled brightly.

She dropped her trowel and tulips and stood, brushing her hands on her pants. Her smile wavered. “Well, that’s nice. The ladies in the rectory will help you.” She motioned to the low building situated off the church and fell into step beside me. She patted my arm, leaving bits of earth behind. “It’s hard, isn’t it.”

I swallowed, unsure if she meant Oscar, or being responsible for several families being broken apart, or the attempt on my life.

Her warm and kind smile returned. “I remember when Marabel left for college. I think I spent weeks wondering what I was going to do. I joined the garden club back then. These ladies saved me from going crazy.” She eyed my grey hairs. “I know it seems like your life is over, but Charlie, there’s so much you can do. Have you considered volunteering?”

“Oh?” Jeez, maybe hanging on to the kids costumes this long was a bad sign. Like I’d been hoarding all along and now it was obvious. “I do play Trivial Pursuit at Sunnyview a couple times of month.”

She gave me an indulgent smile.

“And you know I’m still working there. With Marabel.”

She nodded. “Oh yes, part-time.”

“It’s almost full-time.” Sheesh. What next?

“Right, right.” She patted my arm again. “You know, I think it’s wonderful that you’re here today.” She looked up at the sky and back at me. “I think you’d really love Father Dave’s homilies.”

“I’m sure he’s wonderful.” I attempted a smile but Momma Sanders would kill me if I went to a different church. Panic over lying to Ida versus facing the wrath of Momma made sweat break out