Blackout (27 page)

Betty Senior sighed. “I know. You’d better get to work. You’ve spent too much time with me, neglecting the other residents.”

“You’re right, as always. I’m off. Be good, now.”

“Ha! Don’t have much choice, do I?”

“I’ll be by later. In the meantime, I’ll see you on
Candid Camera
.”

“I’ll only smile if Allen Funt comes by.”

Betty laughed softly as she left the room. In the hall, everything seemed so normal that she had to blink a couple of times. An aide wheeled a new resident to a room, family members trailing, looking worried. Betty stopped to speak to them, introducing herself, offering any help they might need. When she left them she noticed a torn section of wallpaper and made a mental note to tell Donald.

She stopped the new aide as he pulled a resident along in a shower chair, backward.

“We never pull residents backward,” she said quietly. “It could disorient them or make them dizzy or sick. Also, you need to be sure they’re covered properly. Here…” Betty pulled the cotton robe more securely around the man’s chest.

“Yes, Ms. Cranston. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” She patted his arm. “I’m sure it won’t. And call me Betty, okay?”

He nodded, and Betty continued on to her office. There, she wrote a note to Donald about the wallpaper, checked her phone messages, her to-do list, and her calendar.

One message from Jerod. She called him first.

“Aunt Betty. How are you?” His cheerful voice came over the wire.

“You tell me. Any news?”

“Actually, there is. I got a copy of the police report on the wreck with the truck. By the time the officers got to it, driver and passenger had disappeared. They couldn’t trace the truck because the man who bought it gave a false name and the seller wasn’t too careful with his record keeping. Now, I checked on the name Armstrong. There are warrants out for one Sam Armstrong of Missouri and his daughter, Allison Armstrong, also from Missouri. Sam has never been located. Since you found Allison, I’m going to have to come and question her on the matter of her grandmother’s death. She may have to go back to Missouri to answer questions there.”

Betty remained speechless, glad she was sitting down. Poor Alice. So young to have had so much happen to her.

“I’ll be over later to question her,” Jerod said. “Don’t tell her about this conversation. I wanted you to know so you won’t be surprised when I show up.”

“Jerod, do you have to? She’s just started to remember everything. If you do this, she may forget again or never remember it all. That won’t help you or her.”

“I’ve got no choice. I’ve been putting it off until I could talk to you about it. I want you to fill me in on everything she’s told you.”

“I don’t feel comfortable doing that. What she told me, she said to me in confidence.”

“It wasn’t privileged info, Aunt Betty. I’m afraid you’ll have to answer my questions. I’ve got a few things to wrap up here, then I’ll be over.”

“Jerod, please—”

“Gotta run. Talk to you soon.” He hung up.

Betty slammed the phone down. “Damn.” She pulled out her desk drawer with such force it came all the way out and landed with a crash on the floor, spilling the bag of trail mix, tea bags, and soda cans. Furiously, she picked everything up and tried to wiggle the drawer back into the slots.
The antique furniture scattered around the nursing home was beautiful,
Betty thought
, but sometimes impractical.
She’d always loved her desk. Until now.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Maxwell said, striding into the room and grinning at her. “Having a bad day?”

“That’s an understatement.” She watched him deftly insert the drawer back into her desk.

“So tell me about it,” Maxwell said as he sat down.

Gratefully, Betty gave him a small smile and said, “I’ve never told you about Alice.”

“No. Who’s she?” He waved his hand. “Wait, I need to fill you in on a couple of things, too. It’s your turn to listen for a while, then you can tell me about Alice.”

“Okay,” Betty said.

“First, I spoke to Katherine yesterday evening. Her father’s a little better. He’s going to live. But he’ll have to have a lot of physical therapy. She’s helping her mother make some decisions and hopes to be back either tomorrow or the next day.”

“That’s wonderful! Not that I mind you sitting in, of course, but I know how hard all of this is on Katherine. I’ll try to call her later. I haven’t had a moment.”

“Yes. I explained some of what’s been going on, but I didn’t want to mention the video cameras yet. It was bad enough I had to inform her about Margaret being let go and Lettie’s passing.”

Betty nodded. “Tell me about the video cameras.”

“Five are set up. Donald and I had a strategy meeting. Since all the attacks occurred during the day, we thought he and I would take turns watching them, eight to five. You can relieve us when possible. He’s there right now. Lucas will come in and do routine maintenance for a week or two. However long it takes. I don’t know what else we can do.”

“Neither do I,” Betty said, running her hand over her eyes, which suddenly felt tired. “Neither do I.”

“Now, who’s Alice?”

Betty took a moment to collect her thoughts. “A young girl Donald found, battered and bruised, on the far side of Carson City, Nevada, from here. He thought maybe she’d been abused, so he took her to Hannah’s. After she got better, he brought her here, and I hired her as an aide. Turns out she had amnesia. She started remembering things. Remembered a car wreck. Remembered two old people dead on the kitchen floor. Remembered her father shot the gun that blew away half her grandmother’s face.”

“What? She works here? You don’t worry about her taking care of residents? Betty, I’m surprised at you.” Maxwell stood up and began pacing.

“It sounds bad, I know. But if you met her—”

“Something I definitely want to do.”

“She assists Yolanda now. No direct resident care.”

“That’s just great, Betty.” Sarcasm dripped from Maxwell’s voice, and Betty cringed. “But she has full run of the building. Do you know why her father killed her grandmother?”

“No. No, I don’t. She seems to have stopped remembering in the last day or so.”

“Or stopped telling you what she remembers.”

“I don’t know why she would.”

“She’s a young girl from what we now euphemistically call a dysfunctional family. Who knows what her reasons might be for doing anything?”

“Just a while ago, Maxwell, you told me to trust my instincts. Alice has reported a couple of instances of resident abuse. She is backed up by Joyce now, and I suspect it’s been going on for a long time, but no one else had the guts to report it. Alice has been threatened and even slapped by the alleged abuser. I’m hoping the video cameras will catch something about this, too.”

“Which residents does she say were abused?”

Betty told him about Dana and said, “With everything else that’s been going on, I haven’t had time to deal with it yet.”

Maxwell gave her an astonished look. Before he could say anything, a light knock sounded on the door. Maxwell crossed the room in three strides and opened it. “What is it?” he demanded.

Betty could see Alice standing there, a startled look on her face.

“That’s Alice, Maxwell.” Betty stood up. “Come on in, Alice. Meet our regional director, Maxwell Dryer.”

When Max held out his hand, Alice shook it awkwardly.

“What can we do for you, Alice?” Betty asked.

“I’m wondering if you’ve done anything about Nancy.”

Betty glanced at Maxwell. “We haven’t had time yet today.”

“I know how frustrating this is,” Maxwell said. “Dana’s mentally alert, so why don’t we ask her about it? She could be the second witness we need.”

“Good idea,” Betty said. “Let’s go talk to her now.” She believed Alice and wanted to get Nancy out of the building as soon as possible.

They found Dana in bed, staring into space. No one else was in the room, and the TV sat silently in the corner.

“How are you feeling?” Betty asked gently. “That knee giving you problems?”

“Giving me fits,” Dana replied with a slight grimace.

“Taking any meds for it?”

She shook his head. “As little as possible. Only at bedtime so I can sleep.”

“You really should consider taking more. If you fell, things would be much worse.”

Dana didn’t say anything.

“I understand Nancy was rather unkind to you earlier,” Betty said carefully.

“Who? Nancy? No,” she said slowly. “No, Nancy’s not unkind.”

“She didn’t tell you you don’t need help getting to the bathroom?”

Dana wouldn’t look at any of them. “I don’t remember her saying that,” she said finally.

Betty sighed. Like so many residents, Dana was afraid if she complained, the staff would retaliate and her treatment would become even worse. She looked at Maxwell resignedly. Alice stared at Dana, surprise making her eyes wide.

“But,” Alice said, “I was here, don’t you remember? I heard what Nancy said to you.”

Dana glanced at Alice finally and said, “I don’t remember. Sorry.”

Alice stared helplessly at Betty and Maxwell. Chin set, she left the room, the anger she felt obvious to the rest. Betty followed her while Maxwell stayed with Dana.

“Come to my office,” Betty said and walked briskly down the hall.

Alice nodded.

At the rotunda, Rita said, “Betty, did you see the paper this morning?” She held out a copy, her eyes wide.

“Hi, Rita. No, I didn’t.” Betty stopped to take it. “MYSTERIOUS DEATHS AT MERRY HILLS.”

“Oh, my God,” Betty whispered. Quickly, she put the paper under her arm and headed toward her office again, the girl following.

She made herself put the paper down on her desk, headline hidden, while she talked to Alice.

“Sit down,” Betty said. “Do you understand why Dana did that?”

Alice nodded her head jerkily. “She’s afraid.”

“That’s right. Maxwell will talk to her, but it probably won’t do any good.”

“You’ve got to do something. Please! She may be the one attacking the residents.”

Betty tried not to let her exasperation at the situation show as she stood up and ushered Alice out of her office.

“There’s nothing more we can do right now, Alice. I’m sorry. We’ll keep working on the problem, though, I promise you.”

Alice nodded, the starch seeming to go out of her. Betty closed the door and sat back down at her desk. She unfolded the newspaper with reluctance. After skimming the article, she read it once again, slowly, then sat staring sightlessly at the wall before she got up to go find Maxwell.

Maxwell stood outside Dana’s room. He seemed surprised to see her.

“I need you back in my office,” Betty told him. “Did Dana say anything more?”

“Nope. Denies everything.”

“That’s too bad,” Betty said as old Mr. Pridemore careened around the corner in his electric wheelchair, almost hitting her and missing Max by inches.

“Mr. Pridemore,” Betty said sternly. “Stop right there.”

The old man did a perfect three-sixty and grinned toothlessly up at Betty. “I missed you with room to spare,” he said, spraying saliva.

“That’s not the point, and you know it,” Betty told him, squatting down to be at his eye level. “I told you last time if you came too close to anyone again, you’d have to go back to the non-electric wheelchair.”

“Aw, come on, Betty. I’ve never run into anyone. You know I’m an expert with this mean machine.”

Betty suppressed a smile, glad he hadn’t sprayed her too much, and kept her voice gruff. “I know it, you know it, but everyone else may not. You scare some of the other residents, and especially first-time visitors. We just can’t have it.”

“Betty, Betty, Betty,” he said dramatically. “I promise to slow down. You can’t take my favorite toy away, now can you?”

Betty looked up at Max standing behind the wheelchair. Max didn’t have to hide his grin. It was true. The old man had never run into anyone or anything. Some residents in non-electric wheelchairs ran into something almost every day.

Mr. Pridemore’s eyes pleaded, his smile becoming uncertain. She couldn’t do it to him. Betty stood up and, frowning a little to show how serious she was, said. “One more chance. You want to do wheelies, you go out in the courtyard when no one else is out there, understand?”

“Thank you, thank you, kind Madame.” He tried to snatch her hand.

She knew he’d kiss it, and his kisses were sloppy. Putting her hands behind her back, she shook her head at him. “I mean it now.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” he said, spit flying. “See you later.” He pushed the button and took off again, but at a more sedate pace.

They watched him go, shaking their heads and grinning at each other.

Betty sobered quickly when she remembered the newspaper article waiting for them on her desk. “I assume you didn’t see the paper this morning,” she said as they continued down the hall.

“No. Slept late.”

In her office, she gave him the newspaper. After an initial show of surprise at the headline, he kept his face expressionless. Betty fidgeted with the items on her desk while Maxwell read the story out loud:

“Are the patients at local Merry Hills Nursing Home safe in their beds? This reporter toured the facility less than a week ago and was extremely impressed by the care the residents seemed to receive. The home is kept immaculate, the meals appear and smell appetizing, and the majority of residents seem content.

“I was ready to write a glowing report, but yesterday an anonymous tip arrived. It expressed outrage that two suspicious deaths had not even been investigated by local authorities. A third resident remains hospitalized after what may have been a vicious attack.

“When this reporter attempted to get a statement from nursing-home personnel, the administrator and director of nurses were unavailable for comment.”

Maxwell skimmed the rest of the article, which went on to give some background about Merry Hills and mentioned it was owned by the sixth largest chain of nursing homes in the nation, National Homelike Homes.

Finally, Maxwell slapped the paper down in disgust. “You know this reporter?”