Page 79 of A Future To Remember

He chuckled. “You want to go visit Mr. Maydole’s sister?”

I brightened. “That’s right. She was your babysitter. You think she’d talk to us?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. When I got kicked outta my folks house, she let me stay with her. She had a room above her garage. It was cold in the winters, but she also gave me a sleeping bag and a space heater, so it wasn’t so bad.”

“She let you stay with her?”

He nodded. “And sometimes she’d give me food too.”

I stared at him with pinched eyes. “How did you survive all this time, Levi?”

He shrugged. “Some folks would give me an odd job here or there. Anything they didn’t want to do, like clean their gutters or get a dead coon out of their attic. And I stayed at Miss Maydole’s through most of the past two years. It just got bad for her last month.”

“What does that mean?”

Levi shrugged again. “Luca’s folks started leaning on her to kick me out. She finally gave in to the pressure.”

“I’m so sorry you went through that.”

A third shrug suggested it wasn’t a big deal, but I knew better.

“You’re positive she’ll talk to us?” I asked.

“Sure. We didn’t end on bad terms. She just let me know that she couldn’t give me a place to stay anymore. The Bishops would make the same stink with Wanda if they knew I was staying here. Which is why we can’t let her know.”

“She won’t find out, Levi. I lock the door to the loft every time we head downstairs to work. I think it might be the only key, and she respects me enough by now to allow me my privacy. If you want to lift weights, though, you should do it either first thing in the morning or after the diner closes and she goes home for the day.”

“Don’t worry. That part I already know.”

“Okay, so when can we go visit Miss Maydole?”

Levi glanced out the window. There was still an hour or two of daylight left. “How about now?”

“Now? Unannounced? On a Sunday?”

“Got a better time?”

“Not really.”

Levi pushed off the sofa and stood. “Then let’s go talk to her.”

I got up too, carrying the murder book. At first, I was going to leave it behind, but then I decided to bring it with me. I couldn’t say why I felt I’d need it, but I decided not to question it.

Levi and I arrived about fifteen minutes later at a small, unkempt little cottage of a house, with long-dead husks of flowers in overgrown garden beds, leaves, dirt, and a fine powdery dust coating the front walkway, while a mailbox at the end of the drive appeared full to overflowing.

I glanced up at Levi as we approached the place—it looked deserted—and his expression of concern told me that the state of disarray was a newer development.

He paused at the mailbox and carefully removed the large pile of flyers, envelopes, and catalogs, bringing it with us to the front door.

From inside, we heard the faint sound of a TV. Levi knocked firmly, and we waited what seemed like almost a full minute before we heard the deadbolt turn and saw the door creak open.

Beyond the door stood a woman with hunched posture, scraggly gray hair, and a face that was gaunt and yellow with jaundice.

The backs of both her hands were covered in bruises, and a nose plug feeding her oxygen was connected to a long hose that trailed down to a tank in a hand-pulled trolley to her side.

Levi dipped his chin toward her. “Hi, Miss Maydole.”

She blinked up at him, her lower jaw gaping before recognition seemed to dawn. “Levi?”