Part Seven

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It's been three weeks since I arrived back home, and I just put a down payment on a house not far from my parent's home.  I bought a new car a few weeks ago, and now I am furniture shopping with Natalie.  I've spent a good portion of my savings, so I feel a little sick about spending. 

I started my new job a few weeks ago, and Lisa keeps giving me pep talks.  The job is fine, but I miss my old coworkers in Seattle. 

Natalie and I picked out a new couch, end tables, lounge chair, a bed with nightstands, and a kitchen table and chairs.  The dining room and formal sitting room can wait for now.  I need everything to furnish and equip the house with all my needs, so Mom plans to throw a housewarming party in a few weeks. 

We ordered all the furniture and swiping my debit card for such a huge amount, made me feel sick.  There won't be any vacations or big nights out for a while since I'm spending too much right now.  We even had to go buy silverware, dishes, pots, pans, then linens.  Thankfully, Target has all those things, so after spending way too much, Natalie and I headed back to our place.  Mom is nice enough to let me store everything in her dining room, and Natalie stayed for dinner with my family.  The girl is practically one of us, so she was more than comfortable in my parent's home. 

Eli came over for dinner, which did make things somewhat awkward, but after dinner, they went outside to talk.  I'm more than sure they will get back together and lock themselves away for a few days.  I'm exhausted after the big changes in my life, and, of course, all the shopping we did today, but that didn't stop me from helping Mom in the kitchen.  I was doing dishes, when I heard my phone ring. 

I quickly dried off my hands and picked up my cell phone.  It's a Seattle number that doesn't look familiar. 

"Hello?" I answered in my chipper voice.

"Hello, is this Miss Cora Ashley?" There is a man's voice on the other end. 

"Yes it is, how can I help you?"

"My name is Tom Sinclair, and I'm a detective with the Seattle police department."

Detective?

"How can I help you, detective?" My mom swung her head around to look at me. 

"I found your contact information on a card and you have been listed as an emergency contact for a Miss Lisa Simmons?"

My hands began to shake.

"That's right, is she okay?" I asked. 

"I'm very sorry to inform you that Miss Simmons passed away.  She was found by her mailman when he saw her on the floor of her home.  I guess the curtains were open, and he made the discovery on accident.  Again, I am very sorry for your loss."

I felt my legs give out from under me and I hit the floor, which caused my mom to come running. 

"What happened?" My whole body was shaking, so I put it on speaker phone so Mom can hear.

"We found no indications of foul play, there were no drugs in the house, and she seemed to be free of any physical injury.  We won't have a clear idea until after the autopsy, but it appears to be natural causes." He said.

"You have to be mistaken. Lisa is healthy, and I just spoke to her last night.  She was fine, so I'm afraid you have the wrong person." I said.

My mom put her arm around me. 

"We found a card in her wallet that instructed us to call Markland Funeral Home.  We made contact, and it seems she had prepaid their fees for cremation.  She left instructions for them to contact you, but we have been unable to locate any family, so the funeral director did identify her as Lisa Simmons, but we do have a problem with her identity." He said.

I'm too shaken up to speak, so Mom did it for me.

"This is Wilma Ashley, Cora's mother, and I'm afraid my daughter is too shaken to speak. You're saying that a healthy 30-year-old woman prepaid her funeral costs, then suddenly died of natural causes?  Who carries a card on them with that information anyway?" Mom asked.

"Actually, it's quite common for folks that have no family.  That isn't the strangest part, she had arranged this about a week ago.  She even has a Will that was left with the funeral home.  We found her birth certificate in a drawer, but there is a big problem.  Her identity belongs to a 17-year-old girl from Pennsylvania..
Lisa Simmons has been dead for over twenty years.  We have no idea who this woman is, and we already ran her fingerprints.  Unfortunately, we did not find a match." He said.

"That's impossible, she grew up in Scipio, Kentucky.  I lived with her for six years." I managed to speak.

"We asked the medical examiner to collect DNA, to hopefully match hers to missing person cases around the country." He said.

"This makes no sense.  What is my daughter supposed to do now?" Mom asked.

He sighed.  "Actually, we aren't sure yet. As of right now, she is a Jane Doe, so we can't release her estate to anyone.  We will be contacting an attorney and will keep trying to solve the mystery of her identity.  I do suggest Miss Ashley contact Markland's funeral home."

My stomach turned, so I left Mom with the phone and sitting on the floor.  I ran to the bathroom and emptied the contents of my stomach.  None of this can be real. The room began to spin, and I collapsed on the floor sobbing and nearly screaming that it can't be true. 

My mom and Natalie came running into the bathroom and fell to the floor with me as I sobbed. "This can't be Lisa." I cried. 

"Detective Sinclair suggested you go to Seattle and identify her for yourself.  He also has questions for you to answer." Mom said.

Eli is standing in the doorway.

"Can I really miss work already?" I would rather pretend this isn't happening. 

"We can take off tonight. I'll go with you, and we can be back by tomorrow night," Eli said.

"You would do that for me?"

"Of course I would do that for you.  You're my baby sister." He said.

"I'll go pack Cora a suitcase," Natalie said.

"Actually, I can do that, but would you mind going to Eli's and packing him a bag?" Mom asked.

"Yeah, that way I can call and make arrangements," Eli said.

"Sure." Natalie leaned down and kissed my head before leaving.  Mom helped me get cleaned up, and she had my bag packed before Natalie returned. 

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