Free To Helen Back by Susan McBride

spend it all on Blondie.” Her red lips twitched into the hint of a smile. “The old rat trap they live in looks even worse than it did when I left.”
    Milton’s reputation for being miserly was hardly a secret, Helen mused, recalling all the times Art Beaner and the board complained about Mr. Grone refusing to contribute to the community funds that maintained Serenity Gardens, the playground, and the historic lighthouse near the river.
    Delilah slapped a hand against her thigh, the noise tugging Helen from her thoughts. “Burns me up, it does,” she said, “how Milt could ignore his own flesh and blood like that then go out and strike a big deal for that water park. And don’t think I haven’t kept up with it in the papers.” She tucked her arms beneath her breasts. “That set a fire under me, it surely did, which is why I high-tailed it here after work last Thursday night. I had a few things I wanted to get off my chest even if I had to force the old coot to listen to every word.”
    Delilah appeared so distraught that Helen pitied her and all she’d had to endure.
    “You’d decided to give him an ultimatum, is that it?”
    Milton’s ex-wife nodded, biting down on her bottom lip.
    “He didn’t know you were coming?”
    “Well, I’d tried to warn him,” she said. “I called and said, ‘Okay, Milt, I’m giving you one last chance to make things right,’ but he just chuckled. ‘And if you don’t, I’ve got someone who’ll help me get what I’m after,’ I told him. Then he laughed some more before he hung up.” She sighed, her voice softening. “I got in my car just after seven o’clock, as soon as I finished my shift. I stopped at home to change clothes, so it was probably close to eight when I got to River Bend.”
    She hesitated, wetting her lips. She cast her gaze down but Helen could plainly see her distress. “I got out of my Bug, and there he was, lyin’ on the ground. I walked over and saw for sure that it was Milton. I tried to shake him, telling him to get up. I even knelt down in those damned weeds and got stains on my pants. When I touched his head, I felt something wet, like blood on my fingers. Oh, man, it was awful.” She shivered, and Helen reached out to lay a hand on her arm.
    “So you left without calling for help?”
    “I banged on the door to the house, hollering for Shotsie, but no one answered. Then I heard all those voices coming up the street.”
    “That must have been after the meeting broke up,” Helen said. “Ida Bell led a group of, um, concerned citizens to confront Milton about the water park sale.”
    Delilah swallowed hard. “All I know is that I got out of there fast. I didn’t think it would look good for someone to find me hanging around with Milt on the ground as good as dead. They might’ve thought I had something to do with it.”
    “Oh, I doubt that,” Helen told her with a smile meant to reassure. “He presumably died of a heart attack, as you must know. That could hardly have been your fault.”
    “Blondie would have found a way to pin it on me, I’m sure. If nothing else, she would have blamed me for causing the bastard’s ticker to stop.”
    Helen didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure if Delilah wasn’t right about that.
    The rumble of a car engine coming to life momentarily charged the air, and Delilah stared at something over her shoulder. Helen turned around to see the van from the mortuary driving off in a cloud of exhaust.
    “Is she having him cremated?” Delilah asked, her eyes watching the road. “Milt always said he didn’t want to be buried, all those worms and stuff.”
    “I really don’t know,” Helen told her, her brow creasing as she tried to think of the latest talk she’d heard that morning. “There won’t be any kind of graveside service, I do know that. Doc Melville asked the mortuary to postpone anything until tomorrow.”
    “Postpone? But why?” Delilah’s eyes narrowed. “Is something wrong?”
    “No.