Page 437 of Second Chance Trouble


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“How much longer?”

“How much longer would they need? When was the last time you spoke to her before she died?”

“I don’t know. Two months before?”

“What if she was dead for two months?”

“Wouldn’t that be illegal?”

“If they didn’t report her death it might be,” I guessed. “And what if they didn’t invite you to the funeral because they thought you might ask too many questions.”

“Like, how long ago did she die?”

“Or, why did it take so long to tell people?”

“Would that mean there’s a record of it somewhere? Like, where did they keep the body after they found her dead? Don’t they need a funeral home?”

“Or maybe they kept her here. Like, on ice or something.”

“We need to find out. That would give us more answers than looking for a needle in a haystack,” Lou said slamming down a stack of papers.

I looked at the seemingly endless number of boxes in front of us.

“Maybe, but I don’t think we should stop. Both of our lives depend on it.”

Conceding, Lou and I continued through boxes for the rest of the night. We didn’t stop until neither of us could see straight. Besides an endless collection of travel magazines, there were publishing contracts and story notes for her books. There were even a few boxes of Christmas decorations.

If his grandmother had left a clue in any of them, she hadn’t made it easy to find. That didn’t make sense to me. If she had left something for him, she would have put it somewhere he would find it.

Too exhausted to open another box, the two of us retreated to the bed. He climbed into my arms. I had missed this so much. I never wanted to let him go.

He fell asleep a lot sooner than I did. But, once I did, I was out until the sun shone in through the window.

“Morning,” I said when I found Lou awake and staring at me.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he told me with a sad look in his eyes.

“You’re not gonna lose me. I told you, we’re gonna figure this out. Once we do, we’re gonna be together forever,” I said with a smile.

My words did nothing to raise his spirits.

“I’m gonna need to help my mother with wedding planning today. It was what I fought for last night. If I changed my mind now, they might suspect something’s up.”

“I understand. I’ll, um… I’ll keep looking up here,” I agreed fighting the urge to poke my eyes out at the thought of the monotony.

“Okay. I’ll bring you something to eat,” he said getting out of bed. “Oh, and if you use the bathroom, don’t flush the toilet. The pipes are old in this place. If they hear the rattling and I’m not here, they might come looking for you.”

“Then I’ll try not to do anything that might need flushing,” I joked.

“You do that. So, how does a breakfast burrito sound? All the fixin’s?”

I looked at him wondering if he was joking.

“Kidding. I’ll bring you something light. No fiber.”

“Right,” I said having another reason to dread my day without him.

Lou was gone for a while and returned with a plate of fried eggs, hash browns, and a croissant. It was filling enough. And when I was done eating, I returned to the endless supply of boxes.

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