Jack Johnson #1: Iliff Drive

It was half past four when Jack pulled onto Iliff from Jewel. The roads wound along, making Jack think that the city worker who planned the routes was drunk the morning he worked this section of town. It made it harder to find a house right away than the nice, square, city blocks elsewhere. He pulled up to a two-story brick house, identical to the rest in that cul-de-sac. Housing association signs. No Soliciting. He knocked on the door. While he waited, he glanced around the neighborhood. Too similar, Jack thought. The nurse hesitantly answered the door. 

“Yes?”

“Mr. Johnson. I have some business with Mrs. Cummings.” He stepped in without waiting for an invitation, noticing the polished white tile and knick-knacks everywhere. There were no real houseplants that he could see. Just fake plants in pots, and fake branches of flowers hung on the wall in various places.

The nurse recovered. “Oh yes, she told me you were stopping by. Come on in.” The front door opened right into the living room, and she led him to a faded red couch. “She is laying down. I’ll bring her up.” Jack continued to look around, prompting the nurse to add, “Please, make yourself at home.”

Jack looked the nurse up and down. She was even more beautiful than her photo, and twenty-three at the most. “Thank you, Miss—”

“Paulsen. But you can call me Amy.” She smiled coyly at him, then turned to go down the stairs. 

“Thank you, Amy.” He watched her walk away. From where she left him, he could see most of the house. The living room fireplace was tiled to match the entryway. The floor plan was very open and so the dining room was undistinguishable from the breakfast nook and living room except for the chandelier that hung above the table. The living room and kitchen ceilings were vaulted and a skylight cast a large block of sunlight onto the kitchen floor. The kitchen had plaid walls and a display of teacups and spoons was built into the wall. It even lit up. 

Jack continued his slow lap around the main rooms. The mantle had pictures lining it. He got up on the hearth to look at them. A few family pictures, a few of what Jack presumed were high school seniors. Jack focused on a picture of a couple. The woman had dark hair and green eyes. She was absolutely gorgeous. Jack looked at the man beside her. Unremarkable, he thought.

“My grandson.” Jack was startled by the voice beside him. Little old ladies shouldn’t be able to sneak up on me. 

“And the woman?” Jack turned to face his client after he was sure he had regained his composure.

Mrs. Cummings snorted. “The tramp he claims he’s in love with.” Mrs. Cumming sat down on one of the red couches and motioned for Jack to join her. 

He crossed the room, still taking everything in. “I see,” he said, taking his seat, eyes fixated on the mantle. 

“She’s beautiful,” Mrs. Cummings conceded. “I’ll give him that. Well dressed, but no class. Acts all innocent in front of him, and then high and mighty with me. It boils my blood to think that she might be the mother of my future great-grandchildren.” She was clutching a kleenex, probably the same one from this morning. She used it to dab under her nose, careful not to smudge her makeup. 

Jack nodded as he took out his notebook and a pen. “Do you have any kids?” He knew there were kids, but it was as good a place to start as anywhere else.

“Not living.” Another dab with the kleenex, her white hair shaking like aspen leaves in October. “Just the two grandchildren, Eric and his sister Amanda.” Mrs. Cummings sighed. “But I haven’t seen Amanda in years. As soon as she was old enough, she left and never looked back.” He scribbled as she talked, but was still able to watch her hands accentuate her words.  

His pen hesitated above a fresh line. “Are Eric and the woman married?”

“Not yet, thank God.” She stared at him until he looked up and made eye contact. She wanted the world to know her opinion of Ellen and her Eric. “He keeps asking for my blessing, but hell will freeze over before I willingly let her into the family.” Jack’s eyebrows lifted up, surprised at her vehement response. She has more life left in her than it looks. 

Trying to keep the amusement out of his voice, he responded. “May I ask, what is her name?”

“Ellen Murphy.” She rolled her eyes. “They met at the university. She is a colleague of his, just recently hired I think.” Here she paused, trying to figure out if that was right. “She is much too young for him, and as I said earlier, she is two-faced.” Here Mrs. Cummings leaned in, trying to speak without the nurse hearing her. “If you ask me, she’s a gold digger.” She nodded, and Jack could tell that this time it was on purpose.

Jack also spoke in a hushed tone. “Do you have a fortune?”

She shook her head. “It’s not much, but it would be enough for Eric.” The shaking turned to nodding, but it was just an empty motion once again. “He is a smart man, and could do well investing it.” There was a long pause, and another dab. “And, since we have no idea what happened to Amanda, Eric will get it all.” Another pause before she gave him her final answer. “So yes, he is looking at a small fortune.” Jack scribbled a note to remind him to ask Pete for info on the parents’ death and small fortune. 

After he caught up on his notes, he began again. “If you hate her so much, Mrs. Cummings, why do you have a picture of her on your mantle?” Jack motioned at the picture of Eric and Ellen with his pen, his eyes trained on Mrs. Cummings.

She sighed. “Yes, well, my grandson is the only family I have left. His parents died, his sister ran away, and his grandfather died.” Another dab. “I love him dearly, and I fear we might have spoiled him rotten. I can’t bear to tell him no.” Here she blew her nose. “In fact, Ellen is the only issue I’ve ever put my foot down on.” She sighed again and slowly shook her head, “I’m sorry, but I’m still tired. I’m going to lie down again, but I’ll be in the guest room so that you can inspect the, uh,” She paused and looked at him. Jack expected her to clutch the pearls at her neck, but here she disappointed him. Mrs. Cummings finally found the words she was looking for, “crime scene, Please, make yourself comfortable and look all over. If you have any questions, Miss Paulsen can answer them.” She gestured to the nurse while Amy helped her stand up. “Thank you Mr. Johnson”

“Rest well, Mrs. Cummings.” Rest well.