"But what about the money?"
He kissed her lightly. "I've got a plan for that."
"What plan?"
"No reason it shouldn't go to a good cause. I'm going to transfer it into the Society's Foundation Trust."
She smiled. "Someone just made a generous donation to further paranormal research?"
"At the moment it's an anonymous donor," Fallon said. "But I hope to be in a position to personally thank the individual very soon."
26
The aging trailer sat on the last concrete slab in the last row of the Desert Palms Trailer Court. Fallon brought the rental car to a halt.
"This is it?" he asked.
"Yes." Isabella contemplated the trailer, afraid to open her other vision. There was a forlorn air of neglect about the place. The inside shades were pulled shut. "What if I'm wrong, Fallon? What if she really is dead?"
"We'll deal with that when we have more data."
She half smiled at his bracing, no-nonsense statement. "I love it when you do that, you know."
"When I do what?"
"Insist on collecting the facts before leaping to a conclusion."
He opened the door. "I've been told that it drives most people nuts."
"That's because they don't understand. I really can't imagine why so many people think you're prone to finding conspiracies around every corner."
She got out and waited while he came around the car to join her.
"See anything?" he asked.
She knew what he meant.
"I'm afraid to look," she admitted.
"But you'll do it because you're an intrepid J&J investigator."
"There is that." She braced herself and raised her talent.
Energy enveloped the trailer. She drew a sharp breath.
Fallon watched her. "Something needs finding?"
"Yes." Jolted, she started forward. "Whatever it is, it's very hot. That means it's important. Oh, Fallon, I should have come here sooner."
"Take it easy." He caught up with her. "You handled things the way your grandmother wanted them handled. If there's something in that trailer to be found, we'll find it. In fact, she probably meant for you to find it with me, not on your own."
"Maybe." She dug the key out of her purse and went up the three steps.
The door of the neighboring trailer swung open. A woman with tightly permed blue hair peered out. "About time you showed up, Elly."
Isabella exchanged a quick glance with Fallon. She could tell that he understood that when she came here to visit her grandmother she used yet another ID.
"Hello, Mrs. Ragsdale," Isabella said politely. "Nice to see you again."
Mrs. Ragsdale glowered. "I suppose you didn't bother to come here until now because you didn't think that your grandmother left you anything of value, eh?"
"I've been busy dealing with her business affairs," Isabella said weakly. "Lawyers, wills, that sort of thing. You know how it goes with estates, even small ones."
"Bernice always said that if anything ever happened to her, you'd be along eventually to take charge of her things." Mrs. Ragsdale peered at Fallon. "Said when you did show up, you'd most likely be with a man."
Fallon looked at her. "Were you and Bernice good friends?"
"Played bridge every Wednesday and Friday night," Mrs. Ragsdale declared. "Bernice was a fine player."
Isabella tightened her grip on the key. "Were you here when my grandmother died, Mrs. Ragsdale?"
"Yep. Watching the late-night talk show. She must have called the ambulance, herself." Mrs. Ragsdale sighed. "We all saw it pull up. They took her away. She never came out of the hospital. Heard later it was a heart attack. Everyone here at the Court is going to miss her, that's for sure."
"So will I," Isabella said. "If you'll excuse me, Mrs. Ragsdale, I need to get started on organizing her things."
"She said you'd probably give everything to charity except for the pictures, of course."
"Probably."
Mrs. Ragsdale cleared her throat. "I could take that old microwave of hers off your hands, if you like."
"I won't be able to make any final decisions today," Isabella said. "I just came to pick up her personal papers."
"And the pictures," Mrs. Ragsdale said. "She said that's all she had that would be important to you. She really wanted you to have the pictures. Told me to remind you when you turned up."
"I'll be sure to take them," Isabella said.
"I cleaned out her refrigerator and emptied her garbage," Mrs. Ragsdale said. "Didn't want things to spoil and stink up the place."
"That was very thoughtful of you," Isabella said.
Fallon looked at her with veiled interest. "You have a key?"
"Oh, yes, Bernice gave it to me a couple of weeks before she passed. She said she was having some chest pains and was getting concerned. I told her to go to the doctor, but she refused. Said it was just a bad stomach."
"Did anyone else stop by after she died?" Fallon asked.
"Nope." Mrs. Ragsdale paused. "Well, except the manager, of course. He comes by occasionally to check on things. Told me the only reason he hadn't sold Bernice's trailer and her things was because she had promised him that if anything happened to her, Elly, here, would pay him whatever was owed."
"Was the manager the only person who went inside the trailer besides you?" Fallon asked.
Mrs. Ragsdale snorted disapprovingly. "Nosy, aren't you, young man?"
To Isabella's amusement, Fallon gave the elderly woman his rare, wickedly charming smile, the one that should have been registered as a dangerous weapon.
"Been a while since anyone called me a young man," he said.
Mrs. Ragsdale responded right on cue. Her faded eyes sparkled, and she suddenly glowed.
"It's all a matter of perspective," she said gruffly. "Trust me, at my age, you look young. In your prime, as they say." She gave Fallon a head-to-toe perusal. "Yep, in your prime and a mighty fine prime it is, too."
Isabella coughed discreetly.
Mrs. Ragsdale seemed to realize that she had gone off topic. She smiled warmly at Fallon. "To answer your question, the only other person I've seen go inside was the new man on the maintenance crew. He checked Bernice's trailer after it rained. Said he wanted to make sure there wasn't any water damage. Old trailers leak like sieves, you know."