Edna was in a hurry the next morning to be the first one at Brumbaugh’s office. As she drove north on McGregor toward downtown, she found herself gazing at the showy, red-orange blossoms on the Royal Poinciana trees on the route.
“Now, he’s got me doing it,” Edna thought. She was looking at the trees instead of concentrating on driving, something Paul would do.
Edna arrived at Brumbaugh’s office in the Justice Center by 8:30 a.m., but she found him out and Miori in.
“I’m sorry. He went into a meeting. No telling how long he’ll be there.”
“Please see that he gets this and ask him to call. It’s very important information about the Russ McGovern murder.”
“I’m sure he’ll give it all the attention it deserves,” Miori smiled.
Edna had a vision of the entire package chucked in the trash the minute the door closed behind her.
She drove back home, focusing on how her theory had to be the correct one. She realized that when she pulled in the driveway, she’d been lost in the thick of thought. Fortunately, she hadn’t run into some other Ft. Myers driver who was high on music, drugs, or cell phone chat.
Throughout the morning, she kept her cell phone in her pocket while she dusted and washed windows.
“Oh. Hi, Joe,” Edna said.
“Gee, Mom, you don’t sound very glad to hear from me.”
“Sorry, dear .I’ve been a little distracted. How are you, Blondi, and my sweet grand baby Sam?
“We’re all fine. I heard you saw Brandon. He’s up for some big promotion,” Joe said.
Edna finished the call and thought about Brumbaugh’s promotion. If he moved up in rank, then Miori, Sergeant Mascara, would probably move up, too, and be in charge of Russ’s murder investigation. Edna was convinced that Miroi thought she was a meddling nuisance.
At one o’clock, Edna couldn’t endure waiting for Brumbaugh’s call.
“I’m sorry,” said the receptionist. “He’s out of the office. May I have him return your call?”
Paul noticed Edna’s frown after she closed her cell phone.
“I’ve been making a list of things we have to do at the garden tomorrow. Mark the Ylang Ylang tree for transplant. Root prune jasmine bushes. Mulch roses. And our favorite--weeding, lots of weeding.”
“Weeding,” said Edna. “Now that cheers me up.”
She tried to focus on what Paul was saying, but she kept thinking that if Brumbaugh would look at her packet, he would see the logic of her theory.
The windows still had several dog nose prints. She drifted from room to room with the Windex.
“Edna, are you going to feed the dogs? It is past time.”
“What? What time is it?
“It’s 4:15.”
“Crap! Brumbaugh hasn’t called me back.”
She opened her cell phone, dialed, and heard the receptionist.
“Gone for the day? Please look on his desk. I left a package that said ‘Russ McGovern Murder, From Edna Cameron.’”
“Sorry, no package. Would you like to leave your number?”
Edna closed her phone and blinked away tears of rage. Miori had done what Edna feared. She pitched the packet.
“It won’t stop there,” Edna vowed.
She had made copies.
“Now, he’s got me doing it,” Edna thought. She was looking at the trees instead of concentrating on driving, something Paul would do.
Edna arrived at Brumbaugh’s office in the Justice Center by 8:30 a.m., but she found him out and Miori in.
“I’m sorry. He went into a meeting. No telling how long he’ll be there.”
“Please see that he gets this and ask him to call. It’s very important information about the Russ McGovern murder.”
“I’m sure he’ll give it all the attention it deserves,” Miori smiled.
Edna had a vision of the entire package chucked in the trash the minute the door closed behind her.
She drove back home, focusing on how her theory had to be the correct one. She realized that when she pulled in the driveway, she’d been lost in the thick of thought. Fortunately, she hadn’t run into some other Ft. Myers driver who was high on music, drugs, or cell phone chat.
Throughout the morning, she kept her cell phone in her pocket while she dusted and washed windows.
“Oh. Hi, Joe,” Edna said.
“Gee, Mom, you don’t sound very glad to hear from me.”
“Sorry, dear .I’ve been a little distracted. How are you, Blondi, and my sweet grand baby Sam?
“We’re all fine. I heard you saw Brandon. He’s up for some big promotion,” Joe said.
Edna finished the call and thought about Brumbaugh’s promotion. If he moved up in rank, then Miori, Sergeant Mascara, would probably move up, too, and be in charge of Russ’s murder investigation. Edna was convinced that Miroi thought she was a meddling nuisance.
At one o’clock, Edna couldn’t endure waiting for Brumbaugh’s call.
“I’m sorry,” said the receptionist. “He’s out of the office. May I have him return your call?”
Paul noticed Edna’s frown after she closed her cell phone.
“I’ve been making a list of things we have to do at the garden tomorrow. Mark the Ylang Ylang tree for transplant. Root prune jasmine bushes. Mulch roses. And our favorite--weeding, lots of weeding.”
“Weeding,” said Edna. “Now that cheers me up.”
She tried to focus on what Paul was saying, but she kept thinking that if Brumbaugh would look at her packet, he would see the logic of her theory.
The windows still had several dog nose prints. She drifted from room to room with the Windex.
“Edna, are you going to feed the dogs? It is past time.”
“What? What time is it?
“It’s 4:15.”
“Crap! Brumbaugh hasn’t called me back.”
She opened her cell phone, dialed, and heard the receptionist.
“Gone for the day? Please look on his desk. I left a package that said ‘Russ McGovern Murder, From Edna Cameron.’”
“Sorry, no package. Would you like to leave your number?”
Edna closed her phone and blinked away tears of rage. Miori had done what Edna feared. She pitched the packet.
“It won’t stop there,” Edna vowed.
She had made copies.
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