Free Dead Giveaway by S. Furlong-Bolliger Page A

few years back.”
    “Really? How large?”
    “A million dollars.”
    My heart skipped. “A million dollars?” I asked, dollar signs practically spinning in my eyes.
    Cliff held up a hand. “Hold on. Rose was the sole beneficiary of the policy. In fact, if I remember correctly, she had insisted upon it at the time.”
    I seethed inside. “I’m sure she did.” I glanced over to where she was sitting with a bunch of ladies from her bridge club. They were flocking around her like seagulls to a discarded french fry.
    I hated that woman.
    I turned back to Cliff. “So, why are you telling me this?”
    “Because, I thought you should know that he was going to drop Rose and name you as the sole beneficiary. I drew up the paperwork and gave it to him to take home and read over the weekend. He was going to look it over and then come in and sign it on Monday.”
    “But, he died on Friday.”
    Cliff was watching me carefully. “That’s right. So legally, Rose is still the beneficiary. But, I wanted you to know that your father was thinking of you.”
    I mulled this over for a second before asking, “Do you know why he suddenly decided to change the beneficiary?”
    Cliff was about to reply when suddenly he looked over my shoulder, grew wide-eyed, and excused himself.
    I turned to see what had scared him off. I was being descended upon by Marge and Agnes, St. Philomena’s wonder-duo. As far as anyone could remember, these two matronly women had single-handedly organized every baby shower, luncheon, and fundraiser in the parish. They were also the biggest gossips in town.
    “Julie, your father’s accident was such a tragedy. A terrible shock to us all,” Marge said, drawing me into her squishy bosom.
    “Yes, you poor dear,” Agnes reiterated, also hugging me. Her hug was as rigid and boney as Marge’s was squishy.
    I smiled to myself—maybe running into these two was a good thing. I had just hit the rumor mill jackpot. If anyone knew of trouble between Rose and my father, it would be these two women.
    “It’s so good to see you both,” I started. “And, thank you for all your hard work. This is a wonderful luncheon.”
    They gushed at the compliment.
    “I was just talking to Cliff Barker…” I hedged.
    “We saw that, dear,” Agnes said. “And we do hope that your father had thought enough to plan in case….”
    “In case of the unthinkable,” Marge finished. “I mean it’s the responsible thing to do. Your father did make provisions, didn’t he dear?”
    I ignored their prying and asked a question of my own. “Of course you both know that I…well, that I have been estranged from my family for several years.” I had their full attention. “And, I was wondering, was my father happy in the end? I mean, really happy? Like, with his life…and…his marriage?”
    Agnes and Marge exchanged a look that I couldn’t quiet interpret.
    “What is it, ladies? If you know something, please tell me.”
    “Well, there were rumors,” Agnes said.
    “Rumors?”
    “Yes, but you know that we’re not the type to listen to gossip.”
    That was only partly true. Agnes and Marge weren’t the type to listen to gossip; they were the type to collect it, cultivate it, and spread it all over town like manure on a garden. “Oh, I know you two would never spread gossip, but I’m his daughter. I deserve to know if something was going on with my father.”
    They exchanged another look. Finally, Marge shrugged and leaned in, cupping her hand on the side of her mouth. “We heard that there was another man.”
    I almost swallowed my tongue. “Another man? Who?”
    They shrugged in unison. “We don’t know. Certainly if he was from Lake Loon we would know who he is,” Agnes said, looking to Marge for support.
    “Certainly. It must be someone from Cowlick Junction, or maybe even as far away as Flatville.”
    I cast another sideways glance at Rose. Another man? How dare she do that to my father!
    She must have felt my