Free A Slice of Murder by Chris Cavender Page B

said. “While you’re there, have them do a search of Richard’s other bank accounts to see if Sheila’s name is listed on them as well. I’m willing to bet if she was listed on the box, she’ll be in the other accounts, too.”
    “Fine, it’ll give us something to do while we’re waiting. That’s a good idea. What did you find, a checkbook or something?”
    “Or something,” I said. I told her about the deposit slips, and she whistled loudly over the phone. “Where did he get that kind of money? That’s a lot of cash to keep in a checking account.”
    “All of them are just under ten grand,” I said. “That means the bank doesn’t need to report them to the Feds. Richard was hiding something.”
    “Maybe we should look a little harder as we search,” Maddy said.
    “I found a thousand dollars in cash already,” I said. “Let me talk to Sheila and tell her. She’s entitled to a little good news after the past couple of days.”
    “She’s right here,” Maddy said.
    As Sheila answered, I said, “I’ve found a thousand dollars in cash here.”
    “That’s so honest of you,” Sheila said. “You could have kept it and I never would have known.”
    “My integrity’s worth a lot more than that to me,” I said. “It’s not my money. It belongs to you now.”
    “Maybe,” Sheila said. “If they ever get the safety-deposit box open, we might find out. You’d think they’d have more than one key for the thing, wouldn’t you?”
    “What can I say? Small towns have small-town ways sometimes. Consider it some of our local flavor.”
    “It’s certainly not how we do things in Charlotte,” she said. “Thanks for your honesty, Eleanor.”
    “It’s my pleasure,” I said.
    “Hang on a second,” Sheila said. “The teller’s saying something.”
    I didn’t have a chance to warn her about the large balance there might be in the checking account. I couldn’t hear what the teller said, but I did hear a scream as Maddy’s phone suddenly went dead.
    Two minutes later my cell phone was ringing. I didn’t recognize the number in the display, but I had a pretty good idea who was on the other end of the line.
    “What happened, Maddy?”
    “What, are you psychic now?”
    “No, but who else would be calling me. Is Sheila all right?”
    Maddy’s voice lowered as she explained, “She’s fine. I caught her in time, so she didn’t crack her head open on the marble floor. I can’t say the same for my cell phone. It’s in so many pieces, I doubt we’ll ever find them all.”
    “She fainted when she heard about the money, right?” I asked.
    “Your thousand bucks? Not even close.”
    “Maddy, I’m talking about the bank balance. Did you hear how much it was?”
    “No, the teller wrote it down on a piece of paper, but Sheila told me as soon as she came to again. It’s close to a hundred grand, and Sheila’s not going to have to pay a penny of taxes on it.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “She and her brother co-owned the account, so legally, it’s not part of the estate. She gets it all without going through the hassle of a will.”
    “You know, I usually don’t understand fainting spells, but I’ve got to give her that one. I’d probably pass out myself with that kind of news.”
    “Don’t worry, I’m leaving you all my money, too. It’s in a shoe box under my bed, in case something happens to me.”
    “Wouldn’t it be safer in a bank?” I asked, touched that my sister had thought of me.
    “No, I tried to open an account with it, but they said I needed more than nine dollars, so I’ll have to wait till next payday.”
    “You’re a riot,” I said.
    “Hang on a second. I’m going to have to call you back. The assistant manager just came back from lunch, so we should be able to get into the box now. I’ll call you back later.”
    She hung up before I could say a word. If Richard Olsen had close to a hundred grand in his checking account, how much must be in his safety-deposit