The Fatal Fall

Three-1

Three

“I should have let Cupcake eat that little—”

“Now, Helen,” I say as I throw the dice and move my car three spaces—fortunately landing on a property I own, “you couldn’t do that and you know it.”

“I know,” she sighs. “The paperwork for something like that is a nightmare.”

I shake my head. “Well, Lilith gave Miriam an earful about Catherine.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Helen says as she shakes the dice. “She’s just a child!”

“I know, I know, but she’s an unusual child, and people are afraid of things they don’t understand.”

Helen pauses and looks at me. “It’s only going to get worse, isn’t it?” she asks quietly.

“I don’t know about that,” I shake my head. “Catherine may grow out of it, or her gift may get stronger. I did advise Miriam to teach her to be a little more discreet.”

“Well, that should help. I mean, people have short memories. Unless she starts levitating or gets the stigmata.”

I laugh. “Well, let’s hope that it doesn’t go that far. Though Father Wayne is interested in meeting Dandy Dan’s daughter.”

Helen looks at me with a grin. “Dandy Dan?”

“Dan wasn’t always the upstanding man we see now. Are you going to throw those dice or not?”

Helen wrinkles her nose at me, throws the dice, and starts moving her piece. As she moves more spaces, she slows down and her eyes get bigger. Finally, she lands on the last blue square on the board.

I grin in triumph. “Park Place. I own it.”

“I don’t believe it,” she says. “I just don’t believe it.” She looks up from the board. “I’m bankrupt.”

I jump up, my arms stretched over my head in triumph. “Yes! Yes! Finally! I won! I won! After sixty-two games, I finally beat you!”

“Congratulations,” she says with a frown.

“Oh, what’s the matter, Chief Parr,” I say mockingly. “Can’t take losing?”

She crosses her arms and fixes me with a glare. “You know I hate losing. And aren’t you supposed to be humble or something? You know, gracious in victory?”

“Probably,” I say with a grin, “but not tonight!”

Helen sighs and shrugs. “Oh well. You got lucky. I’m still ahead of you 61 to 1.”

I lean over so I’m inches from your face. “Well,” I whisper, “we have the rest of our lives together for me to get number two.”

She grins. “Never.”

We kiss, then I whisper, “I’ll be on the couch waiting for my beer.”

Helen scowls but, being an honorable woman, begins the loser’s task of putting the game away. I sit on the couch, basking in the glow of my triumph.

Do I really think it will ever happen again? Not really. But for tonight, I’m enjoying the sweet taste of victory.

A few minutes later, Helen joins me on the couch with two beers. Handing me one, she says, “So how was your day?”

“Good, good,” I say, taking a drink. “Sorry I had to skip out on lunch, but I had a call from Bridget Davis.”

Helen looks at me over her beer. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “She’s still trying to recover. I went over there and listened. Terry’s really taking his father’s death hard. He doesn’t understand why everyone’s so mad at him.”

“I don’t know how you explain to a ten-year-old that his father died after trying to kill someone. I’m just amazed, after the beating Rusty gave him, that he’s so upset.”

“Children are more forgiving than adults sometimes,” I say.

We both sit quietly, then Helen says, “So, how’s the great project going?”

“It’s not really a project—I’m not sure if I’m going to do anything or not—but Father O’Connor’s papers are really interesting. I barely scratched the surface, but Nate said—”

“You ran into Nate at the college library?”

I nod. “Yes. Apparently the Myerton Gazette’s given him a monthly assignment to write on some aspect of the area’s history.”

“Oh, what the frankincense and myrrh,” Helen says, rolling her eyes. “That can’t be good.”

I hear the door open as I say, “He promises no more paranormal stuff. Nate said he’s working on an article about some bank robbery in town in 1928.”

“What was that, Tom?” Anna says, coming into the living room. “Hello, you two.”

“Hi, how was dinner with Bill?” I ask.

“Fine, fine. What were you saying about Nate and a bank robbery?”

“Yeah, I was just telling Helen that Nate’s writing another article for the Gazette. Something about the First National Bank of Myerton being robbed in 1928 of $150,000, or something?”

Helen chokes on her beer. “What? That’s a lot of money.”

“It really was back then,” I say, “I’m not sure what it would be worth now, but maybe a million or more?”

While Helen and I are talking, Anna lowers herself into an armchair. She’s gone white, and she has a far-off expression.

“After all these years,” she whispers. “I thought it was over.”

“What’s wrong, Anna,” Helen asks. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“Maybe I have,” she says quietly. She shakes her head. “I’m just glad he’s not alive to see it.”

“Who, Anna?”

Anna looks at me. “My grandfather. The First National Bank of Myerton was his.”

***