CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Visiting the Severson home this Sunday afternoon will be a tough waste of time, but I feel it’s my duty to check on the lady and, of course, there is always the outside chance that I can pick up on something to break the log jam. The immaculate lawn at Winter Garden Manor is getting the water treatment from a series of sprinklers that spray out lazy arcs of the life-giving liquid. I knock at the Severson unit and the door is opened by a middle aged lady who, from Blondie’s description, has to be the nurse and house-keeper, Iva Roper.
"I'm Gene McLain of the Arizona Reporter and I would guess that you are Mrs. Roper. I would like to have a few words with Mrs. Severson, if possible."
Mrs. Roper eyes me in a friendly way before she speaks. "Mrs. Severson has been placed
