Where Lies End by Ruth Davidson

Author:Ruth Davidson [Davidson, Ruth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-15T05:00:00+00:00

When Diane awoke, heavy streams of light blazed boldly through the opened window. She slowly dragged herself off the couch and to the bathroom, immediately noticing the note placed on the mirror: “Gone shopping. Be back soon. Liz.”

Instead of showering, Diane took a long, steamy bath, relishing the feel of the hot water on her skin as it washed away the grime and unpleasant memories of the evening before. Her arm felt somewhat better. She re-bandaged it after her bath, inwardly debating what her attire should be for the day. Liz had loaned her a few outfits from her belongings but Diane could scarcely go through them, yearning more than ever for her own wardrobe.

After she dressed, Diane meandered back to the kitchen, feeling almost caged. She wished she knew she could escape the stifling atmosphere of the house. Circumstances seemed even worse when she knew she couldn’t leave. She ate a small breakfast before wandering back to the couch where she picked up some of the papers Rick had left lying there. Then it struck her. Why wait for Rick’s approval to begin to investigate the information on the files? She could do it right now.

Diane went back to the kitchen and cleared off the table before she set the papers on it, scanning the addresses of each of the clients. Most of those insured lived nearby so she picked up Liz’s home phone and began with the first name, a George T. Benyon of Brown Cliffs Drive, punching in the number written beneath the address. A woman answered after a few rings. “May I speak with Mr. Benyon please?” Diane questioned immediately.

“Who?” the woman countered.

“Mr. Benyon.”

“I’m sorry. You’ve got the wrong number.” The phone clicked off.

Diane chewed her bottom lip in uncertainty. She looked online for anyone in the vicinity under the name of Benyon. She found a G. Benyon listed but the address and phone number were different than those indicated on the file. She immediately called the new number but it had been disconnected. She marked the file sheet before starting on the next one.

Day, Martin L.

Diane called the home number listed; no one answered. She checked his business phone, the number for a small used furniture company she’d often passed in her travels through town. “Martin Day?” came a surprised voice after her greeting and question. “I’m sorry but no one works here by that name.”

“Do you mind me asking how long you’ve worked there?”

“Over seven years now. Do you want me to ask anyone else if they’ve heard of him?”

“No, thanks,” Diane said. “That’s all I needed to know.” She hung up, making a notation on the file sheet.

Again and again it happened. The numbers listed on the information pages were either non-working or the people living there had never heard of the named insured. Though Diane found some matching names online and called the phone numbers assigned to them, not one of those people had heard of a Mr. J. D. Keaton or had ever taken out a policy with the R & J.

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