I have been editing the new sections. Going a bit slow. Here's a shorter segment. Enjoy!
Section 4:
Has it only been four days since Erma died? Maude poured herself her second cup of coffee for the morning, and looked out the window to her apartment, on the top floor of the Arbor towers central building. She knew that she had a meeting in two hours, and needed all the liquid gumption she could get from the dark brew. The board of directors were going to be briefed by the police department. Maude racked her brain to remember the name of the detective she spoke with when she and Marcella stumbled upon the squirrel and Erma. What did he say his name was? Nelson? No, that’s not it. Newsome? No….that’s not it either...Neill, yes, Neill. Detective Neill. Damn straight, still beating the memory game. Age was a detriment, but not a winner. Maude turned on her laptop to look over her notes before she faced the board and the detective. She’d started making the document file the night of the “tragedy” at least that was what Maude referred to it as. Erma’s death was sad, but all the seniors at the Arbor were open to the idea that death was just around the bend, so losing someone wasn’t all that shocking. It was the way Erma was found and had died, now that was the real tragedy in the ordeal.
Organizing her thoughts was essential to keeping this whole world she and her partners had created alive and well. Life was so much easier when she was just teaching at Wheatbury High. Then she thought that getting students to write out their calculations and label them correctly on their physics exams was rough...she had no idea until she started this retirement community with the partners. Maude sighed, she’d thought retirement was going to be carefree and relaxing. It should have been, only she’d complicated matters by wanting to invest in a future for her community as well as her friends, now she was working harder than ever. But her investment advisor years ago had told her to envision what her life would be after retirement, and all she could see was her friends. And that was exactly what God had gifted her with, life with her friends in a perfect setting. Now just to keep this dream going.
Maude felt anxious about the meeting. Not only because it was the first time all of the board had met since Erma’s death, but also because she had not heard anything at all from the authorities since that day. The Wheatbury police department may have been silent on the matter, however the Wheatbury Herald had not been quiet at all. It was all speculation, but the Herald had been papering the town with innuendo and just shy of libelous news about Cottonwood Arbor and the “suspicious” death of Erma Walters. Just the thought of the news articles and Barry Lowell’s wretched excuse for a newspaper made Maude’s blood sizzle with frustration. If the Arbor had not built such a successful public image up to this point, then they would be in big trouble from the coverage of the Herald. Yet so far, the seniors both at the Arbors and those asking to buy into the retirement facility had remained positive. Maude earnestly hoped this would remain so.
She carried her coffee cup to the sink, rinsed it and placed it into the dishwasher. She couldn’t stand for her apartment to be cluttered on any surface which included the kitchen sink. She mused that an organized brain began with an organized environment.
Maude snatched her key ring bracelet, slid it onto her wrist and headed to the door. She grabbed the door handle before realizing she had forgotten her laptop, then turned around and seized the MacBook and its sleeve as she once again headed toward the door when her cell phone began to buzz. She sighed. She didn’t want to field a call right now, but the pesky interruptance did keep her from leaving her phone behind. Maude followed the buzz, hoping that it wouldn’t stop before she had located the phone. Her recliner, yes, she could hear it, her phone was wedged in the seat cushion. That’s right. She had been checking her email when she first got up this morning and was sitting in her chair. She reached for the phone just as it stopped and switched to voicemail. Letting the message complete, Maude strode down the hall towards the conference room. Maude was just passing Marcella’s apartment door when it opened, startling her.
“Lordy-be Maude, you liked to give me a fright.” Marcella exclaimed as she stepped into the hallway, shutting her apartment smartly behind her.
“Scared you?” Maude declared. “I was the one who just swallowed my heart!”
“Well I just called you to see if you were on your way yet. But you didn't answer. If you had, you would’ve known I was on my way out the door too!”
“I couldn’t find my phone in time.” Maude sighed. Her heart rate had returned to normal but her nerves were still jangling at the thought of the meeting ahead of them. “Marcella?”
“Hmmm?” Marcella replied.
“What do you think that Detective Neill will be going to tell us? I’m worried. I’m concerned about the Arbor and the effect his news will have on everything.”
There wasn’t time for Marcella to respond before they reached the door to the conference room. Ben stood, holding the door as only Ben could, with his genial smile. Maude instantly smiled in return. She mused that even at 80, Ben was a quiet charmer. He didn’t have the schmoozing flair that Howard flaunted, yet Maude couldn’t think of any woman who would turn Ben away.
“Thanks Ben,” Both Maude and Marcella chorused as they walked through the door together.
Most of the board of directors were seated at the table waiting for the rest to arrive. The staff had kindly placed carafes of ice water at both ends of the table with glasses set at each chair. There were no chairs at either end of the long table as the members of the board had decided early on that no one would be chairman, but they would all have equal status. Maude and Marcella took their seats next to each other, and Maude slipped her computer out of its sleeve to begin warming up.
Out of the corner of her eye, Maude caught the sight of the Reyes shuffling papers in a folder.
“What cha got their Nikolaus?” she asked.
“I brought the clippings from the Wheatbury Herald, I wanted to see if anything the detective tells us matches up with some of the speculations that metiroso Lowell has been printing.”
“Good thinking.”
“It is Esmerelda and my prayer that nothing come from all this and will go away fast! ‘yo diría’ Si?”
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