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When Irene died I found more than thirty paperback books in her bed. I wouldn't have noticed except I was removing what I thought was a foam triangle tucked under the head of her mattress, in preparation for stripping the bed. It was not a foam triangle at all but two pillowcases stuffed with books.
The funeral home had already removed the body. The family had gone home and the police had come and gone. For the police to be there was rather odd because we were a licensed adult family home and people died here all the time, but because Irene had fallen two weeks ago and the county had proclaimed a crackdown on elder abuse, the police were notified. I doubted their interest had anything to do with the increased number of deaths that occurred here the last several months. Aimee blamed the book club for that. And here was evidence that the book club was alive and well, despite our efforts to shut it down.