stared out the window, zoning out.
Darla understood. It all seemed surreal.
“How were the finances handled in your household?”
“Why do you ask? What’s that got to do with anything?” she said, still looking out the window.
“There’s the matter of this three thousand dollars.”
“Keep it if you like. I don’t care.”
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple. We’ll need to account for it. I’d like to examine your husband’s, well, your family’s financial records.”
Lenore looked back at her fully engaged. Battle ready.
“It’s in your interest. If we determine that the money, the three thousand dollars, belongs to your husband’s estate we’ll want you to have it.”
“You want to go through Jimmy’s things?”
“I’m sorry. I know how disturbing that can be. Having a stranger looking through personal files, but it’s standard procedure in situations like this.”
Lenore had turned her attention back to the window, now making a point of ignoring Darla. Out in the yard, a bird was playing in the water bath.
“I’ll also need to get the numbers from your checking accounts, savings, IRAs, any other retirement accounts, stocks bonds, etc. I doubt I’ll have to take anything with me.”
The implication was clear. She wasn’t requesting, she was informing.
Lenore sat up straight, her back stiffening. “I don’t see how our finances are any of your business. What do I care about three thousand dollars? Take it. Keep it. Give it to charity. That’s what Jimmy would have done. My husband was murdered because of his religious convictions. In most corners that would make him a martyr. But you want to know how much money we have in the bank?”
“I’m also going to need to examine Reverend Aldridge’s home office.”
“Now I will call Sheriff Mitchell.”
“Sheriff Mitchell is aware of this visit. We’ve obtained a court order allowing us to examine these records and a warrant to search your husband’s home office.”
She took the letters from her purse and extended them to Lenore, who waved them off.
“Believe me, Mrs. Aldridge, I wouldn’t put you through this if I didn’t think it was necessary.”
Lenore spit the words at her. “Down the hall, first door on your left. All our financial records are in the top two drawers of the filing cabinet. We have a family checking account. Jimmy has, he had, a personal checking account and a 401k through a ministerial group. And we have a small stock portfolio my father left us. If you’re wondering if we had a lot of money secreted away, you’re going to be disappointed. “
“I’ll try not to disturb anything.”
“You already have.”
Darla checked the desk first. She found the financial records for the last eighteen months in one large accordion file in the bottom left-hand drawer. She thumbed through the monthly statements, writing down the account numbers. At first glance, there didn’t appear to be any deposits for three thousand dollars in any of the accounts. No withdrawals or transfers in that amount either. She’d have Uther phone the various institutions and get all the records for the last five years.
She checked the other records—two life insurance policies lying on the top of the desk: one policy was for a hundred thousand through the church and one for a half million; both listed Lenore Aldridge as beneficiary. It was not a lot of insurance for a 47-year-old man who was his family’s sole breadwinner. Darla began visualizing the insurance people putting Lenore through the ringer and how tough little Lenore would handle the agent.
She then spent the better part of a half-hour looking through his things: his calendar, address book, notepads, and the mortgage on his house, almost paid off. She looked through every drawer, every file, opened and leafed through every book. There was nothing out of the ordinary, except that she had trouble closing the top right-hand drawer of the desk. It wouldn’t
Darla understood. It all seemed surreal.
“How were the finances handled in your household?”
“Why do you ask? What’s that got to do with anything?” she said, still looking out the window.
“There’s the matter of this three thousand dollars.”
“Keep it if you like. I don’t care.”
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple. We’ll need to account for it. I’d like to examine your husband’s, well, your family’s financial records.”
Lenore looked back at her fully engaged. Battle ready.
“It’s in your interest. If we determine that the money, the three thousand dollars, belongs to your husband’s estate we’ll want you to have it.”
“You want to go through Jimmy’s things?”
“I’m sorry. I know how disturbing that can be. Having a stranger looking through personal files, but it’s standard procedure in situations like this.”
Lenore had turned her attention back to the window, now making a point of ignoring Darla. Out in the yard, a bird was playing in the water bath.
“I’ll also need to get the numbers from your checking accounts, savings, IRAs, any other retirement accounts, stocks bonds, etc. I doubt I’ll have to take anything with me.”
The implication was clear. She wasn’t requesting, she was informing.
Lenore sat up straight, her back stiffening. “I don’t see how our finances are any of your business. What do I care about three thousand dollars? Take it. Keep it. Give it to charity. That’s what Jimmy would have done. My husband was murdered because of his religious convictions. In most corners that would make him a martyr. But you want to know how much money we have in the bank?”
“I’m also going to need to examine Reverend Aldridge’s home office.”
“Now I will call Sheriff Mitchell.”
“Sheriff Mitchell is aware of this visit. We’ve obtained a court order allowing us to examine these records and a warrant to search your husband’s home office.”
She took the letters from her purse and extended them to Lenore, who waved them off.
“Believe me, Mrs. Aldridge, I wouldn’t put you through this if I didn’t think it was necessary.”
Lenore spit the words at her. “Down the hall, first door on your left. All our financial records are in the top two drawers of the filing cabinet. We have a family checking account. Jimmy has, he had, a personal checking account and a 401k through a ministerial group. And we have a small stock portfolio my father left us. If you’re wondering if we had a lot of money secreted away, you’re going to be disappointed. “
“I’ll try not to disturb anything.”
“You already have.”
Darla checked the desk first. She found the financial records for the last eighteen months in one large accordion file in the bottom left-hand drawer. She thumbed through the monthly statements, writing down the account numbers. At first glance, there didn’t appear to be any deposits for three thousand dollars in any of the accounts. No withdrawals or transfers in that amount either. She’d have Uther phone the various institutions and get all the records for the last five years.
She checked the other records—two life insurance policies lying on the top of the desk: one policy was for a hundred thousand through the church and one for a half million; both listed Lenore Aldridge as beneficiary. It was not a lot of insurance for a 47-year-old man who was his family’s sole breadwinner. Darla began visualizing the insurance people putting Lenore through the ringer and how tough little Lenore would handle the agent.
She then spent the better part of a half-hour looking through his things: his calendar, address book, notepads, and the mortgage on his house, almost paid off. She looked through every drawer, every file, opened and leafed through every book. There was nothing out of the ordinary, except that she had trouble closing the top right-hand drawer of the desk. It wouldn’t
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