Blackout (18 page)

At the nursing center the next morning, Betty had just got settled in her office with a cup of coffee when Maxwell, the regional director, poked his head in her doorway.

Almost completely bald at about forty-five, he had one of those craggy faces many women found attractive. His eyebrows were so light they were hardly visible at all. Over six feet, he had a good build and large hands and feet.

“Busy?” he asked.

“Not yet,” Betty replied. “Come on in. How’d you get here so quickly?”

“Took the first flight out of Seattle. Heard anything from Katherine?” He sat down in the visitor’s chair and crossed his legs.

“No, but I imagine she’ll call soon.”

“Yeah. Well, catch me up on what’s happening here.”

Betty took a sip of her coffee. She’d known Maxwell for fifteen or so years. He’d recommended her transfer from a smaller, 115-bed home to Merry Hills three years ago. He’d helped her with the arrangements to have her mother admitted after her devastating stroke. And she liked Maxwell personally, though she wished he wouldn’t try to bed every attractive female administrator and other assorted employees this side of the Rockies. When they’d first met, he made a play for her, but she had rebuffed him firmly, telling him she didn’t date married men. She smiled ruefully to herself while remembering. Good thing he didn’t know about Thomas.

“There’s a lot going on, Maxwell, and I don’t know how much Katherine has told you.”

“Give me an example. I’ll let you know if I need more information.”

“All right. First, there have been two deaths that, to me at least, were suspicious.”

Maxwell uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “What are you talking about? Katherine never said anything about this to me.”

Betty took another sip of coffee and made a face. It had gotten cold. “I would imagine she hoped there was nothing to it, but you need to know since you’re acting admin. Anyway, Mrs. Perkins and Mrs. Lacy died within a couple of days of each other, both positioned in the same manner, both immediately cremated because of requests they made to their lawyers.”

“Same lawyer?”

“No.”

“What do the police say?”

“Not much. They have no evidence, no bodies to examine, just my suspicions. They’re not too excited about the whole thing.”

“But you are.”

“Yes. Yes, I am. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced those two women were murdered. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. And I’m extremely worried about Ma. I found her in the same position the other day.”

“What?” Maxwell stood up and paced the small office. “How was that?”

“On her back, arms folded across her chest. As if laid out for the funeral.”

He stopped in front of her, eyes searching her face, an alarmed expression on his face.

“You believe me?” she asked, surprised.

“Yes,” he said, sitting back down heavily into the chair. “Of course I do. You saw the other two women?”

“Yes. Why do you believe me when no one else has?”

“I’ve known you a long time, Betty. You’ve seen a lot of deaths. I think it more likely your feelings are right than wrong.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t realized how hard it had been for her to carry this alone. With a sigh of relief, she said, “What are you going to do?”

“First, let’s get their files. I’ll read them over, then talk to the police myself. Do you think this is some lunatic, or could there be another reason?”

“I don’t know. I’d go with the psychopath. Maybe someone who thinks the residents would be better off. Neither had any relatives left to gain from their deaths.”

“Did either leave a sizable estate, though? And if so, to whom?”

“Maxwell, I don’t know. I really haven’t had much time to think about it with everything else going on—”

“There’s more?” He stared at her, his eyebrows raised.

“Yes. Well, you know about the inspection. There’s possible resident abuse and theft in the kitchen.”

“Katherine told me about Margaret. She was quiet upset because she promoted her, and she thinks this problem reflects on her administrative judgment. But I’ve already gotten in touch with our meat distributer. He’ll be out here at noon to check the supplies. If they’ve been switched, I’ll fire Margaret on the spot. At least Katherine will be spared that. She also mentioned the report of resident abuse, but I don’t have the details.”

“An aide says she saw another aide shaking a resident’s wheelchair, telling her to shut up, and threatening to use restraints.”

“The accuser have an axe to grind against the other aide?”

“No, she’d only worked here a few days.”

“Huh. Any possibility the alleged abuser could go further than wheelchair shaking?”

“You mean to murder?” Betty shuddered. Those helpless women. How could anyone play God like that? She had to be wrong. All the employees in the home were here to help, to make the remaining time left to these poor souls as easy as possible. But why did she think it might be someone who worked here? It could be a visitor just as easily. So many people came and went during the course of a day. Anyone could slip in unnoticed, or at least with a valid reason. Maxwell stared at her again, waiting for an answer. “You know Nancy Manelli? You think she’s capable of murder?”

Maxwell shrugged. “I wouldn’t have thought her capable of abuse. She always appeared to be a good aide.”

“I know,” Betty said. “But I believe her accuser, who says Nancy threatened her if she told.”

“It seems like I’ve sure walked into a hornet’s nest. What about that reporter? He learn anything about what we’ve talked about?”

“Not that I know of.”

“That’s a small miracle in itself. Well…” He stood up. “If there’s nothing else, let’s walk the halls.”

“Good idea.” Betty got out of her own chair.

It took them over an hour to do it. They stopped and talked to residents and employees and several family members. Betty introduced Maxwell to some new residents. They checked with Millicent, the charge nurse, to see if anything needed their attention.

When they had been down every hall, they went back to Betty’s office and talked a few minutes, then Maxwell went to get Ida Perkins and Mrs. Lacy’s files and took them to Katherine’s office to study.

With a sigh, Betty picked up the phone and dialed the police station. She hoped Jared was in.

After a little small talk, he said, “Nothing new, Aunt Betty. Sorry.”

“That’s all right. I really called about something else.”

“Not another alleged murder?”

“No. No, nothing like that. More of a missing-person-type thing. This young girl has amnesia. Can you help me track her father for her?”

“Sure. What’s his name?”

“That’s the problem. We don’t know. Oh, drat, I forgot to find out what state. Can I put you on hold a minute? I’ve got to call someone to find out what state these people had an accident in and the date. You’d be able to find out something with that information, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe. Depends on how long ago, how serious the accident.”

“Yes, well, hold on.” Betty pushed the Hold button and dialed Donald’s extension. No answer. It was Saturday. She flipped through her Rolodex for his home number.

She let it ring ten times. Again, no answer.

She pushed the button to get her nephew back. “Jared?”

“Still here. Doing paperwork.”

“Well, listen. I can’t get ahold of Donald, so I’ll have to call you back.”

After they hung up, Betty drummed her fingers on her desk in frustration.

The intercom blared. “A call for Dr. Redd. Dr. Redd needed in the 400 wing. A call for Dr. Redd.”

Betty jumped to her feet. A fire in the 300 wing! She rushed around her desk, hitting her hip hard on the corner. Ignoring the pain, she then practically collided with Maxwell in the hall. Without a word and at a dead run, they went to the 400 hall. People were milling around, and Betty and Maxwell stopped but saw no sign of a fire. Betty sniffed. No smell of smoke, either
. What was going on?

“Maybe they announced the wrong wing!” Betty gasped. They took off again, others following. Let it be a false alarm, Betty prayed as they rushed down each hall. The last thing they needed was a fire.

Alice woke, disoriented. She could see sunlight shining through the drapes. After a moment, she realized she was in Betty’s guest room and found the clock. Ten thirty. She sat up quickly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

Then she remembered. Hannah. Her father. She groaned, wanting to lie back down. Instead she stood up and slowly got dressed.

In the kitchen she found cereal, milk, and orange juice. While she ate, she called Donald. She needed to know how Hannah was doing.

He answered on the sixth ring, sounding out of breath.

“Hi. It’s Alice.”

“Hi, there. I washed the VW. Just finished. I’ll come over.”

“Have you talked to Hannah?” She held her breath, praying silently that Hannah was all right.

“Yes. She called earlier, said she was doing better. Wants us to visit this afternoon.”

“Good,” Alice said, breathing again. “When’re you coming over?”

“Need to clean up a little. Give me twenty, thirty minutes?”

“Okay.”

Alice rinsed her few dishes and put them in the dishwasher, then wandered around Betty’s house. The atrium enchanted her. She watched Charlie climb around his cage until Donald arrived.

When he came in, Alice remembered what Betty had said last night. He probably thought she’d been battered by someone when he first saw her. Affection for him overwhelmed her. He’d never pried, never tried to force her to tell him anything about herself, only pressed her a couple of times because he thought it would be good for her to talk. She felt as if she owed him something—at least an explanation of why she sometimes acted so strange.

She brought him into the atrium and had him sit in one of the wicker chairs. He gave her a bemused glance when she sat down on the throw rug next to him.

“I want to tell you something,” she said. “You’ve been so patient with me, and I don’t understand why I couldn’t tell you before. You must have thought I had something terrible to hide.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “But… I couldn’t remember anything, anything at all, before you picked me up on the side of the road.”

Donald remained silent, but she could tell how surprised he was.

“I…I had this dread if people knew, I’d be forced into some kind of institution until I could remember. And I was so scared I’d never remember anything. Donald, I don’t even know my own name.” Her voice caught, but she went on. “I’m starting to have flashbacks. They’ve got clues in them, and they’re coming more frequently now.”

“Truthfully,” Donald said when she paused, “I didn’t know what to think. Dr. Henderson said you might have amnesia, but none of us could figure out why you wouldn’t admit it. We really thought, Hannah and the doctor and I, you didn’t want to talk about your past. Do you want to tell me now what you remember? Maybe someone in your past scared you about being put away. Do you think that’s why you couldn’t talk about it?”

“Nana,” Alice whispered. “I can hear her now. ‘If you don’t behave, Missy, it’s off to the Hermitage with you.’” She closed her eyes. “A huge white building on a hill. A high chain-link fence all around it. The loony bin, the kids called it.” Her voice became barely audible. “It would be better to die than to go there.”

“No one will put you away for not remembering your past. I promise.” He took her hand. “Tell me what you remember so far.”

She related everything then. She told him about the pictures she’d sketched.

“Can I see them? You ought to write everything down, too, you know.”

“I guess you can see them. They aren’t very good.”

“That doesn’t matter. I’ll get us something to drink. I’ll bet you’re thirsty after all that talking.”

She smiled at him and went toward the bedroom while he headed for the kitchen. She was glad she’d thought to pack the sketches. When she joined him, Alice spread the drawings out on the counter. They sipped orange juice as they looked at them.

“These are powerful,” Donald told her. “Do they help you remember anything else now?”

She shook her head. “It’s hard to explain, but it’s like there’s a wall I can’t get behind. It has little holes in it so I can see just certain things. Like what’s in these drawings. Oh, Donald, what if I never remember everything?”

“Then you’ll have to accept that. Perhaps tell yourself it’s better if you don’t.” He stared at the picture of the old people on the floor, the man with the gun in his hand.

“I don’t think I could ever really believe that now.” She picked up the sketches. “I’ll go put these away.”

In the bedroom, she put the drawings on her bed and suddenly had an urge to see her silver earrings. She took them out of the small drawer next to the mirror in the bureau. Watching herself put them on, she was in that other bedroom again. The camera sat on the bureau in that faraway place. She had almost forgotten the camera. She could see it plainly now. An old box Kodak, it had something hidden inside so important that lives had been destroyed. She began to shake all over. Instead of leaving the earrings on, she returned them with trembling fingers to the small drawer and went back to the kitchen.

“Can we go to the library?” she asked Donald.

He seemed surprised. “Sure. Why?”

“Betty said I should look in a baby-names book for Lissy.”

“Good idea. Betty give you a key to lock up?”

“Right here.” She pulled it out of her pocket.

It took less than five minutes to get to Valleyview Library. A young mother with two lively children dashed ahead of them to get inside. Alice smiled at the young ones. She hardly ever saw kids anymore, it seemed. Only old people and adults.

They went to the small reference section and searched the shelves for a book of names. When they couldn’t find one, Donald asked the librarian. She smiled knowingly at him and showed him
The Best Baby Name Book in the Whole Wide World
.
She thinks we’re going to be parents,
Alice realized, and she felt herself blush. When she snuck a glance at Donald, she caught him looking at her with a strange expression on his face.