February 20

Well, last night was very interesting. Ellen said that she had received several threats...threats for money. Everyone knows that old Eleazar had money-the speculation is on how much. And now poor Ellen is getting threatened with her death if she doesn't fork some over. Problem is, she confided in me that she doesn't know where--or even if--such money exists.

If it wasn't for that look in her eyes, I would have burst out laughing. It's ridiculous. How could someone die and not let their wife know where--or even if--the money lies? But then this is old Eleazar we're talking about-the meanest (though according to Ellen, he was only crusty in public) man alive, according to the rest of the town, anyhow. Whether I believe them or Ellen, I'm not sure.

I'm what they call a "newbie;" I've only been here in town for about a year or so. Most folks have grown up here and their parents grew up here and their parents...they don't despise me, though. Their kids are leaving; and I'm a nice, responsible citizen.

Anyway, Ellen doesn't even know if Eleazar had a will. Or a lawyer. Or money. She started crying at this point so I didn't ask any questions. Maybe I have a bit of a "reporter's nose," though, 'cause I was itching to ask, for instance, how she lived, if she had to ask for a daily allowance, whether he had business meetings, if so, who, when, where, and how often? Whether she knew if he had speculated in anything; if he had any rich relatives; whether he had relatives who were particularly angry about his fortune (were they at the funeral, I wonder? to see if they got something out of the will?)

I did see that at least two of the relatives were staying at her house. There were hats and shoes in the entryway when I entered and I could here conversation in the floor above; Ellen said that her sister and nephew were here right now. Whether that means they are staying for a week, and whether there are more than just those two, I don't know.

In the end, I figured out that Ellen wants someone to snoop around. And since I was so kind to her in town (apparently people with grudges against Eleazar are taking it out on Ellen; who would have thought? and her being so nice and sweet all the time) she asked me. Me. Why not Scottie? Why not someone who snoops for a living? Instead of someone who writes about dead people? On the other hand, maybe this is my "big break." Maybe this is my chance to prove I can write something other than obituaries; to prove that I can find my own story, instead of being handed a biography by a weeping widow and rewrite it into flowery tear-inducing words and combinations.

So, my mission on the side of my day job, for the next week or however long Ellen can wait for me to snoop around, find a) whether Eleazar had a will; b) find where he had this will (or who has it; either will work); c) get hold of it to find out where and what and if Ellen's money abides.