“At least now you know I’m not crazy.” Henry held up his glass. “Cheers!”
“Cheers! But the jury is still out about your mental state.” Frida chuckled. “What do we do next?”
Theresa came clean about having someone look into the financials of the company and whether there had been any complaints lodged against them. “I’m waiting to hear back. If anyone can figure out what these people are up to, it’s my friend.” Theresa didn’t want to reveal Lizzie’s identity. At least, not yet. The first thing she had to figure out was how to explain her newly found information to Lizzie. She hadn’t exactly been “sitting tight.”
“Do you think she’ll find out anything?” Frida asked innocently.
“As I said, if there is anything to find, she will find it.”
“Oh, gee, I hope so.” Frida turned to Henry. “What do you suppose is going on there? Do you have a theory?”
“Without overstating the obvious, they are moving something that resembles a human body.”
“Concealed. In a black bag,” Theresa added.
“Correct,” Henry said. “I think the next thing we need to do is find out where they are taking the parcels.”
“That would be tricky and dangerous.” Theresa was now pacing the floor. “Let’s hold on until I get more information. I wouldn’t want any of us to be on a wild-goose chase or more importantly, get hurt.” Theresa didn’t want to dig the conspiracy hole deeper, but she surmised her accident was no accident. She pointed to the bruise under her eye. “This mishap occurred at a very opportune time.”
Frida pursed her lips. “You think they could be connected?”
Henry spoke next. “I agree with Theresa. We should wait until we get more information.”
“But what do ya suppose they’re doin’ in there?” Frida’s eyes went wide.
“We shouldn’t speculate,” Henry reminded them. “But, if this were a movie, I’d be slinking down in my seat.”
Theresa chuckled. “We are the characters in the movie. You know, big creepy house, and they hear a noise in the basement. Then the blonde decides to see what it is and starts down the stairs. Without a flashlight.”
Henry laughed. “Except we are outside. In the woods, in the middle of the night, with coyotes, a hearse, and a nasty nurse.”
Frida cackled, “Oh, Henry. You make it sound like Dr. Seuss meets Stephen King!” Then a horrifying thought occurred to her. “Oh, geez. You don’t think they’re selling body parts now, do ya?”
“Wow, Frida, you can go very dark,” Theresa said.
“Oh for …” Frida clicked her tongue.
“No offense.” Theresa wasn’t sure if she had offended her new friend.
“None taken. I grew up close to Fargo”—she winked—“don’tcha know?”
“Talk about dark,” Henry entered the conversation. “That movie was very dark. Darkly funny.”
“Gallows humor,” Theresa said, and took another sip.
“Yes. Making fun of something that could be considered taboo, or an extremely uncomfortable subject,” Henry explained.
“I suppose I have a dark streak, then.” Frida chortled.
Theresa raised her hand. “Guilty.”
“It’s unanimous.” Henry lifted his glass again. “Cheers!”
“I do wonder, who was on that gurney,” Henry mused. “I’ll keep an ear out for any chatter among the staff in the café. They’re usually the first to hear about such things.”
“How long does it take for the county to post a death certificate?” Theresa asked.
“It’s issued right away, but it may take a while before the local bureaucrats make it public.”
