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Mimi didn’t look one hundred percent convinced, but she went on anyway. “So, back to Tom and Lauren. According to Pilar who heard it from Tom’s cousin, Tom thought everything was coming up roses until one day out of the blue Lauren just up and asked him for a divorce. Before he knew what had happened she’d moved herself and Henry back here to Whispering Bay.”
Allie let this information sink in. Had Tom really been as clueless about the state of his marriage as Mimi’s story painted him? Ha! So he’d been sucker punched. It should have brought a smile to her face. You reap what you sow, blah, blah, blah. Still, Allie couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. “And how exactly did that land Tom back in town?” she asked.
Mimi was about to answer when instead she pointed to Allie’s leg. “You’re bleeding.”
Allie quickly glanced down, then away from her
scraped up shin. She must have worked off the bandage during their conversation. She didn’t think she’d pulled at it hard enough to dislodge it, though. She gulped. “It’s just a scratch.”
“Yeah, but I know how you hate the sight of blood.” Mimi went to the bathroom and returned with a small first aid kit. She made fast work of cleaning up Allie’s cut, replacing the bandage Tom had applied with a fresh one. God Bless Mimi. Her maternal instinct was spot on.
“Where was I?” Mimi continued. “Oh yeah, after the divorce Lauren came back here to be near her parents. You know she’s a Handy and they all stick together like they were bonded with superglue.”
Mimi was a Handy as well through her mother’s side. She and Lauren were something like second cousins. A fact Allie was about to remind her sister-in-law of, but she didn’t want to interrupt the flow of the story.
“Lauren’s daddy set her up in that nice little shop I told you about. And I think Tom was tired of only seeing his son on a long distance basis, so last month he moved back to town.”
“And took a job with Pappas-Hernandez Construction,” Allie finished.
“You catch on fast.” Mimi’s gaze softened. “What are you going to do?”
Allie pulled the rubber band from her hair and shook out her ponytail. “Get some sleep, then get up bright and early and try to figure out a way to stop that building from coming down before I get a chance to investigate my story.”
“Not about the building, silly! About Tom. He’s single now. And you’re still single. I’ve always thought maybe the reason you never found anyone was because you were still kind of hung up on him.”
Allie’s jaw dropped.
“Well, you have to admit—”
“Tom Donalan is the last man on earth I’d ever go for. That ship sailed a long time ago.”
“But—”
“Sailed and sunk. Like the Titanic. Never to be resurrected again.” She reached inside her shorts pocket and pulled out the printed copy of the anonymous email. “Right now this is the only thing that interests me. Can you read this and tell me who you think might have written it?”
It was obvious from the look on Mimi’s face that she wanted to continue talking about Tom, but Allie tapped the paper to get her attention back on track. Mimi gave in and quickly scanned the contents.
“It sounds kind of formal. Like an older person might have written it,” Allie said. “Don’t you think?”
Mimi glanced up from the paper. “What makes you say that?”
“The language, I guess. I bet it’s one of the Gray Flamingos. Especially since they’re the ones who’ve spent the most time inside the senior center.”
The Gray Flamingos were a local senior citizens activist group. They liked to march around town in matching T-shirts and spout off about the rights of the elderly. A very cool group as far as Allie was concerned. If they’d been around when Buela was alive, Allie was sure she would have been a member.
“Mmm…well, maybe,” Mimi said. “It says here that this Concerned Citizen tried to contact you directly?”
“Something like that.” Allie tried to brush it off but Mimi kept staring at her. “Okay, so yeah, I got a few emails, but honestly? A ghost? Don’t tell me you believe that malarkey.”
“Malarkey?” Mimi giggled.
“It’s a perfectly legitimate word,” Allie said. Dang. Thirty minutes with Tom Donalan and she was already emulating him.
“If you don’t believe in ghosts, then why did you drive all the way up here to investigate this?”
“Because my editor at Florida! magazine said so, that’s why.”
Mimi glanced at the email again. “You have to admit, this is pretty intriguing. And it’s sort of clever, don’t you think, using this Concerned Citizen moniker?”
