one was written as a directive: “You should find out who’s taking things from our seniors at ARC.” Kaitlin looked up from her reading. With Leda gone, did this mean me, she wondered?
Self-doubt about her replies chased her around the bedroom all night. She got up at three in the morning and reread her advice. It sucked.
Chapter 4
“I can’t do this job.” That was what Kaitlin intended saying the minute she entered the newspaper office the next morning, but when she opened her mouth to make the announcement, Brittany drew her to one side and excitedly told her the latest about Leda.
“A lawyer, I think it was her nephew’s, was in here yesterday afternoon and went through her things. Boy, I’ll bet the nephew will be in for a real surprise once the will is read.”
She’d suckered Kaitlin in. “How so?”
“The lawyer told me nephew Will assumes he’s getting her entire estate, and I didn’t tell him differently. But Leda told me she was making out a new will and leaving everything to someone else. She was very secretive about who it was. She said she and Will had a fight, and she wasn’t going to let him get one red cent of her money. What money, I ask you? Leda didn’t have very much that I know of. But nephew Will won’t get it even if it’s only five cents.”
“That makes me feel a lot better. At least we know now that she couldn’t have been killed for her money,” Kaitlin said. “Now about this job…”
“Killed? You know better than to be swayed by Delbert’s attempts to increase readership. She fell down the stairs and bumped her head on the way down. You think she was killed? I thought she had a bad heart and that caused her to fall. We’ll know once Doc Baldo gets the autopsy results to us. He was there at the time, you know.”
“Was he? You mean when she died? I saw him at the house when the ambulance arrived, but…”
“He’s the coroner for this county. Ask him. Here he comes now, probably with those results.”
Baldo swung open the glass door to the office.
“Here they are. Keeping the public informed and the newspaper honest.” He handed a sheaf of papers to Brittany. “I’ll be at ARC all day if your reporter needs clarification. Myocardial infarction, or, in lay terms, heart attack, just as I suspected. Plummeted down those stairs and hit her head on the way down.”
“Were you there when it happened?” Kaitlin asked.
For the first time since he’d entered the office, Baldo looked at her, a frown digging furrows into his brow and between his eyes.
“Kaitlin Singer,” she said, holding out her hand. “My friends and I kind of rescued you from those geese, so I knew you’d been at the house.” She felt she should admit she was the woman on the bicycle, but something held her back.
Baldo ignored her hand. “Your friend said she heard the sirens, but how did she know where to find me?” he asked.
Kaitlin hesitated and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a small town.”
“Was she out riding a bicycle earlier?”
“No. She and her son had just arrived a few minutes before.”
“Maybe I should speak to her anyway.”
“I don’t think she could tell you a thing.” Why was he so interested in identifying the woman on the bicycle?
Baldo gave her a final piercing look, then shrugged his shoulders. “Well, no matter. As for the night of Leda’s death, I was on the porch about to enter the house when I heard someone cry out and a racket inside. I rushed in to find her at the foot of the stairs. That’s all there was to it.” He paused for a moment, then leaned forward, his face inches from Kaitlin’s. “You can tell your friend that.”
“Was she dead when you got to her? Did she say anything?” asked Brittany.
A mix of emotions played upon Dr. Baldo’s face—anger, sorrow, fear—before he arranged his features into his usual cold, withdrawn look.
“Nothing at all, nothing important. Just gibberish.”
“Tell us.” Brittany’s
Self-doubt about her replies chased her around the bedroom all night. She got up at three in the morning and reread her advice. It sucked.
Chapter 4
“I can’t do this job.” That was what Kaitlin intended saying the minute she entered the newspaper office the next morning, but when she opened her mouth to make the announcement, Brittany drew her to one side and excitedly told her the latest about Leda.
“A lawyer, I think it was her nephew’s, was in here yesterday afternoon and went through her things. Boy, I’ll bet the nephew will be in for a real surprise once the will is read.”
She’d suckered Kaitlin in. “How so?”
“The lawyer told me nephew Will assumes he’s getting her entire estate, and I didn’t tell him differently. But Leda told me she was making out a new will and leaving everything to someone else. She was very secretive about who it was. She said she and Will had a fight, and she wasn’t going to let him get one red cent of her money. What money, I ask you? Leda didn’t have very much that I know of. But nephew Will won’t get it even if it’s only five cents.”
“That makes me feel a lot better. At least we know now that she couldn’t have been killed for her money,” Kaitlin said. “Now about this job…”
“Killed? You know better than to be swayed by Delbert’s attempts to increase readership. She fell down the stairs and bumped her head on the way down. You think she was killed? I thought she had a bad heart and that caused her to fall. We’ll know once Doc Baldo gets the autopsy results to us. He was there at the time, you know.”
“Was he? You mean when she died? I saw him at the house when the ambulance arrived, but…”
“He’s the coroner for this county. Ask him. Here he comes now, probably with those results.”
Baldo swung open the glass door to the office.
“Here they are. Keeping the public informed and the newspaper honest.” He handed a sheaf of papers to Brittany. “I’ll be at ARC all day if your reporter needs clarification. Myocardial infarction, or, in lay terms, heart attack, just as I suspected. Plummeted down those stairs and hit her head on the way down.”
“Were you there when it happened?” Kaitlin asked.
For the first time since he’d entered the office, Baldo looked at her, a frown digging furrows into his brow and between his eyes.
“Kaitlin Singer,” she said, holding out her hand. “My friends and I kind of rescued you from those geese, so I knew you’d been at the house.” She felt she should admit she was the woman on the bicycle, but something held her back.
Baldo ignored her hand. “Your friend said she heard the sirens, but how did she know where to find me?” he asked.
Kaitlin hesitated and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a small town.”
“Was she out riding a bicycle earlier?”
“No. She and her son had just arrived a few minutes before.”
“Maybe I should speak to her anyway.”
“I don’t think she could tell you a thing.” Why was he so interested in identifying the woman on the bicycle?
Baldo gave her a final piercing look, then shrugged his shoulders. “Well, no matter. As for the night of Leda’s death, I was on the porch about to enter the house when I heard someone cry out and a racket inside. I rushed in to find her at the foot of the stairs. That’s all there was to it.” He paused for a moment, then leaned forward, his face inches from Kaitlin’s. “You can tell your friend that.”
“Was she dead when you got to her? Did she say anything?” asked Brittany.
A mix of emotions played upon Dr. Baldo’s face—anger, sorrow, fear—before he arranged his features into his usual cold, withdrawn look.
“Nothing at all, nothing important. Just gibberish.”
“Tell us.” Brittany’s
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