Page 72 of A Rose of Steel
“I don’t believe it,” Miriam said, pulling her purse up close to her thin chest and clutching it tightly. “He had plenty of time. Heck. It happened more than two years ago now. And I never got my money back. I don’t $500 just to give away.”
“You didn’t have to send the money to them,” Fanny-Pack-Lady said.
Miriam Colter slammed her cane down and used it to push herself up, she leaned against it and raised her voice, at least I think she would consider it yelling. “I was tricked,” she said, her voice straining to push more decibels out. “They tricked me. I wasn’t the only one it happened to, so watch your mouth about what you say to me.”
“What happened?” I asked. Then I remembered. There were the initials M.C. in Doc Westin’s book.
That must be Miriam Colter.
It had said that she lost $500 in some sort of scam.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said and looked around the room.
I took another look at Rhett. If he were FBI, then a Medicare scam would be right up his alley. Maybe he could help. Plus, according to Doc Westin’s note, one of my prime suspects in Bumper’s murder, Chase Turner, was involved somehow, at least his name was written in the Doc’s notebook
“Would you like to go somewhere else?” I wanted her to feel free to speak. “We can talk in private,” I said.
“We’ve heard enough of her whining,” Unhappy Senior said. “We came to check on the mums for homecoming.”
“I think they’re down the hall,” I said. “In the last room there.”
“We know where they are,” she said with a huff. “We put them there.”
They all filed out but Miriam Colter and the woman that sat next to her. “We can go into the office,” I said, not knowing if she wanted more privacy. I looked at the other woman and smiled, not wanting her to feel put out. “I’m willing to listen to you and see what I can do to help.”
“This is my friend, Judith Dorsch.” Mrs. Colter pointed to the woman. “She was scammed, too.”
The J.D. in Doc Westin’s notes.
They were the only two people he mentioned specifically, although he had written that others were involved. She didn’t seem as in much of a huff as Mrs. Colter. Her face filled with wrinkles, she wore ruby red lipstick which was spread outside of her natural lip line and had smeared onto her teeth.
“So what happened?” I said.
“I can’t talk long,” Miriam Colter said, she let her eyes trail behind the other seniors. “I’m in charge of the mums this year.”
“Okay,” I said. I didn’t want to talk too much, let her do it so she wouldn’t feel I wasn’t really interested.
“I was scammed and I know who done it,” she said.
“No she doesn’t,” she said. “We had an idea, and Doc Westin was looking into it.”
“You had a name?” I asked.
“No.” Mrs. Dorsch looked at Mrs. Colter. “We’re sure it was a young person. A boy. Didn’t sound past his twenties, the one that called me.”
“Same here,” Mrs. Colter said.
“It was more than just us two that were scammed,” Mrs. Dorsch said. “And a couple of them said that the one that called them didn’t sound that young. One even said it was a female voice.”
“So it sounds like it was more than one person that was involved,” I said.
“A ring,” Mrs. Colter said.
“What exactly happened?” I asked, recalling the notes that Doc Westin had written.
“Someone called us,” Mrs. Dorsch said.
“A young boy,” Mrs. Colter interrupted. “No more than seventeen or eighteen.”
