Nursing a Grudge: An Earl Walker Mystery

Chapter 7

Earl frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Jenny pressed through the doorway, made her way to the couch, and sat down. “They said he was helping you with something last night, and then this morning they fired him!”

“Maybe you misunderstood.” He nervously glanced toward the box’s hiding place. It was sitting right behind the girl’s shoes. “I’m sure he was laid off because Candlewick is closing down. You know, we residents aren’t the only ones being put out on the street. When this place shuts down, all the employees are gone, too.”

“No—I was at the front desk, and I happened to ask about Grant. And the man working up there said he was fired because some old man in a wheelchair called the county sheriff on him!”

“I was not the one who called the sheriff !” Earl averted his eyes. “I told your friend to.”

Her eyes grew wide, and she pointed. “So, they were talking about you!” She set her jaw. “What did you do?”

Earl looked at her. “Well, the sheriff will surely be here any minute to ask about it. I guess there’s no harm in telling you, too.” He outlined most of the events of the previous evening, careful to leave out any mention of the box of money. “I wonder what’s keeping the sheriff anyway. I may be an old man, but I’m still a witness.”

“Maybe you could go to the office and say something,” the girl said. “Demand they give Grant his job back.”

Earl rubbed his chin. Who did the kid call? That’s right, Candlewick’s managing director, Ed Nelson. The same man Earl saw talking with George Kent just hours before the man died.

Earl locked his fingers together and looked at Jenny. He pretended to smile. “Fine. If it will make you happy, I’ll go talk to the managing director himself.”

“Thank you.”

“Say, maybe you can help me with a problem.”

Jenny tilted her head uncertainly. “What?”

“Say a man has collected a lot of money—maybe his life savings—but he doesn’t trust banks. He wants to keep the money close by for some reason. Where would he keep it?”

“Mr. Walker, if you want to change to another bank, I can help you with—”

“No,” Earl snapped, annoyed. “It is not me.”

“So, this really is a ‘friend’ you’re talking about?”

“It’s not me.”

“Of course.”

“I’m not talking hypothetically. This is an actual person.”

“Fine.”

“Are you going to help me or not?”

"Let me see." Jenny chuckled. “And this certain man doesn’t want to put his money in a regular bank?”
“Maybe he had some bad experience with the bank. Or maybe he has some other reason not to keep it there.”

“You know, banks today are insured.”

“I know, I know, I’m just saying what-if.”

She sat back, thinking. “Hmm. I guess I’ve heard of folks who have pasted it on the walls and then covered it up with wallpaper.”

“Yikes! That’s crazy!”

“I didn’t say it was a smart thing to do. I just said I heard about it.”

“Fine.” Earl rubbed his hands together. “Okay, that’s one.”

She frowned. “You don’t want to do that.”