Paul locked the exterior door before striding back toward the pantry. He grabbed the doorknob. He stared into the darkness, muttered to himself, closed the door, and left the kitchen.

Sadie released her breath as the latch clicked and Paul retreated to the living room.

Paul made two trips to his vehicle to load his trunk with folders, bank statements, checkbooks, and ledgers.

Theo and Sadie watched their evidence disappear as Paul's taillights flashed red before he stepped on the gas and turned out of the driveway.

26

Theo waited until the nursing home administrator gathered her briefcase and made her way down the corridor before he entered her office. After making sure it was safe, he sat in the administrator's chair and moved the adjustment levers back and forth to find a comfortable position for his lanky frame. He drew a long, calming breath. He had finally found a location away from prying eyes where he could compose his final piece of correspondence.

Theo ran his hand across the finely crafted desk, searching for a pen. He didn't know how long she'd be away. It was crucial he make the most of his time before the woman returned.

During his years on the bench, Theo's business associates warned him about putting too much emphasis on his career and not enough on his personal life. They recommended he broaden his leisure horizons. Theo had disagreed. Why should he waste time on pleasure if the bane of his existence might accompany him? He'd done everything possible to avoid being with his wife.

Theo had given his life to the justice system. He was proud of what he achieved. He was also proud of several financial partnerships he had formed. If only he could feel the same about his personal life. His marriage had been a disaster and he had never forgiven himself for falling for the guiles of that horrid woman and her two children. How could he have been so naive? The feeling of remorse more than deflated him, it devastated him. He fought to regain clarity to help him compose the most important document of his life.

He pulled a desk drawer open and searched for a sheet of paper. He found several sheets of nursing home letterhead, but pushed them aside in pursuit of a clean, unmarked sheet. Settling for a lined legal pad, Theo placed it on the desk. His fingers brushed over several writing instruments until he found the perfect pen and tested it on the corner of a financial printout. After wiping the space clean with a swipe of his little finger, he situated the tablet at an angle and began to write.

As my time on earth has come to an end, I must admit to a grievous error I made.

First you must understand my shortcomings. Obsession with my vocation and an unfortunate marriage distorted my belief in the justice system and turned me into the type of man I loathe.

I realize I will never be able to make up for what’ I've done, but I hope with what I'm going to tell you, I can…

A burst of laughter rang from the hall, startling Theo from his concentration. He tore the sheet from the tablet and folded it in half before sliding it inside his suit coat.

The door opened as he rose from the chair. When the administrator entered her office and noticed the tablet in the center of her desk, Theo hurried out of the office.

Leaning against the wall to regain his presence of mind, Theo heard someone shout his name. He turned toward the plea. The urgency of his name being repeated made him rush toward the voice.

"Theo. Help me,” Aanders cried. “I can't get Tim to wake up."

Aanders crouched over Tim, who had collapsed on the cold tile floor. “I tried to get him back into the wheelchair, but he was too weak."

Theo lifted Tim off the floor and started down the hall toward the front door. “Call Sadie and tell her what happened. Tell her to bring the van."

27

Nan knocked softly on the cabin door, waiting for one of the sisters to acknowledge her arrival.

"You don't need to knock. You're always welcome here,” Jane said.

A weak smile crossed Nan 's lips. She greeted each sister with a hug. She patted Mr. Bakke's shoulder as she joined the elderly trio at the kitchen table.

"What do you think of my new hair color?” Sadie asked. “The magazines say it's all the rage."

"Wow,” Nan said, evaluating the new color as Sadie turned a complete circle. “Is it supposed to be mustard color?"

"Not really. Big Leon said I should wash it a couple times until the color fades.” Gazing in the mirror above the sideboard, Sadie said, “Actually, I kind of like it. It goes nice with these shorts.” She ran a hand over the leather fabric and looked up to see if Nan agreed.

"Big Leon told me to sprinkle this in my hair. It's supposed to give it that extra punch.” Sadie held up a bag of silver glitter. “I think it might be a bit too much. What do you think?"

Before Nan could answer, Jane said, “You already look like a damn fool. If you added glitter, people would mistake you for a Fourth-of-July sparkler and light your head on fire."

"Coming from someone whose life revolves around the vibrant color of beige, I'll take that as a compliment."

"I don't see anything wrong with looking respectable,” Jane said. “What's wrong with white and beige?” Seeking reinforcement, Jane said, “Mr. Bakke agrees with me.” Getting no response, she batted his hand and growled through clenched teeth, “Don't you."

"Yes, dear."

"I see you're wearing the same depressing colors Jane's wearing. What happened to your plaid shorts?” Sadie said.

"Jane surprised me with a new outfit.” Mr. Bakke looked down and sighed.

"If you want my advice, stick to what you usually wear. You look much better in plaid shorts and Hawaiian shirts than in those washed out colors. You and Jane look like twin cadavers."

"No, he doesn't,” Jane said, dismissing the comment with a wave of her hand. “Quit telling him stuff like that. I don't want him looking stupid like you."

"Before Nan knocked on the door, you said you were in the mood for rhubarb crisp,” Jane said. “Why don't you dish some up?"

"Why don't you? Just because you've got a crack in your ass doesn't mean your legs are broken,” Sadie said. She crossed to the cupboard and selected four forks and placed them on the counter.

Belly pawed at her leg as she jabbed one of the utensils into the dessert pan. She offered a forkful of rhubarb crisp to the impatient dog. Belly lapped at the fork before snorting and backing away. He expelled a slobbery sneeze that sent crisp flying in all directions.

"You know you don't like rhubarb,” Sadie said, swiping at a glob that had landed in her hair. “I don't know why you insist on tasting everything we eat."

Sadie pushed a plate toward her guest. Nan said, “None for me, thank you. It's one of my favorites, but I don't have much of an appetite."

"You've been awfully quiet,” Jane said. “Is something wrong?"

"I'm not sure.” Nan pulled a folded envelope from her pocket and placed it on the table. “I've got something to discuss with you. Actually two things."

Sadie placed forks in front of Jane and Mr. Bakke before setting their desserts on the table.

"I've told you before I've been dating Paul Brinks and that the frequency has intensified,” Nan began.

Mr. Bakke shot a glance at Sadie before looking back down at his plate and grabbing his fork.

"You also know that with Carl's lawsuit pending, I might lose the land lease for the mortuary."

The elderly trio nodded their understanding.

"I'm afraid I find myself making a decision based on the love of my profession, rather than on what I should base it on.” Seeing their concerned expressions, Nan said, “Unfortunately, because of Carl Swanson, I'm leaning toward a decision I might regret later."