Blackout (31 page)

Betty nodded. “I am. I hired sitters for her around the clock, but she’s apt to throw them out of the room anytime she pleases.”

Katherine laughed. “That sounds just like Betty Senior. So, is that all that’s happened since I’ve been gone?’

“Max tell you he fired Margaret?”

Katherine nodded and said, “When we talked on the phone. You don’t think she had anything to do with the murders, do you?”

“I don’t know,” Betty said, opening her desk drawer to get out the trail mix. She offered some to Katherine, and they munched for a moment in silence. “The thing is,” Betty finally said, “It could be anyone. Nancy Manelli, for instance.”

“Well, hopefully the police will find him, or her. The sooner, the better.” Katherine stood up. “I’m going to look for Maxwell and let him know I’m here.”

“I’m glad you’re back,” Betty said. “I’m sorry everything is in such a turmoil.”

“When isn’t it in turmoil, Betty?” Katherine gave another rueful laugh. “We’d die of boredom otherwise.”

“I guess you’re right.” Betty put the trail mix away. “But I still say this is a little too exciting.”

Katherine shook her head and waved good-bye.

Before Betty could do fifteen minutes of paperwork, she saw Thomas standing in the doorway, looking weary.

“Hi,” he said. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Betty said. “Sit down. Where’s your sister?”

“I asked her to wait for me while I talked to you.”

“Oh?” Betty said, her heart thumping suddenly.

He settled himself in the visitor’s chair and said, “I didn’t think I’d get a chance anytime soon to talk to you privately. I want you to know how much knowing you has meant to me and to thank you for all you did for Lettie and me.”

“It has been my pleasure to know both of you. Everyone here is very sad about her passing. Merry Hills won’t be the same without her.” She could feel her lips tremble. She put two fingers over them, hoping to stop the tears, but they came anyway. She got a tissue and dabbed her eyes. Thomas looked like he might cry, too.

He took a visible breath and said, “I wanted to tell you that after the funeral, I’m going away for a while. I’ve always wanted to travel. I’m buying a small motorhome and going to see the country. Lettie and I dreamed of doing it, but then she began to lose her memory and wander, so…”

“I understand,” Betty said.

“Anyway,” he continued. “I want you to know I won’t forget you. I plan to swing back this way in about a year or so, and I wonder if we could get together then. In the meantime, I’ll send postcards.”

Postcards
, she thought. But what could she say? He was doing the right thing. The suitable thing. For all of them—himself, her, and Lettie’s memory.

She sighed. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you.” That sounded so formal. “I’ll miss you,” she whispered.

He smiled then, a wide grin. “Wonderful. Maybe I’ll come back in six months.” He stood up. “I won’t forget you.”

Betty stood, too. “I’ll be at the funeral, of course.”

He nodded and said good-bye without touching her again. She held back the tears until he was gone. Then she got up and closed her door, sat back down, and let them come.

Ten minutes later she was repairing her makeup when a pounding on her door made her jump.

“Betty! Betty, you in there?”

She hastily put away her makeup and said, “Come in.”

Joyce burst into the room and stood there gasping.

“Well, what is it?” Betty asked.

“I think you better come to Betty Senior’s room. Alice and Brenda went in there, and they were acting funny.”

“Funny? How?” Betty got up and strode across the room and out the door.

Joyce rushed to keep up with her. “Brenda sort of had hold of Alice’s arm and wouldn’t let her talk, it seemed like. As they went down the hall, Alice made a gesture behind her back like she was pointing a gun. I followed them, and they went into Betty Senior’s room.”

“A gun!” Betty exclaimed. “Oh, no.” Her step quickened, and she was almost running by the time she reached her ma’s door.

The sitter stood outside looking lost. Her hands fluttered over her mouth when she saw Betty.

“Why are you out in the hall again?” Betty asked sharply.

“I…I, well, I…”

“For heaven’s sake!” Betty pushed on the door. It wouldn’t open. She pushed again, harder. It still didn’t budge. “It’s locked,” she whispered. “Oh, my God, it’s locked.”

Alice and Brenda stood in front of Betty Senior’s door for a moment. A feeling of horror welled up inside Alice, and she kept swallowing as if that would make it go away.

“You go first,” Brenda said.

Alice knocked then slowly pushed against the door. It opened to reveal Betty Senior on her bed as always, looking at the TV. The sitter sat watching, too.

Two pair of eyes watched Alice and Brenda come in. “Could we talk to you alone for a minute?” Brenda asked.

The sitter fluttered, protesting she couldn’t leave. “Ms. Cranston will be furious with me. Please don’t make me leave.”

“Just go,” Betty Senior snapped. “As I told you before, this is my room, and I want you out of here.”

The woman got up, gathering her things, still objecting. No one else said anything as she left.

“Turn off the TV, will you, Alice?” Betty Senior asked. “I could use some water, too, if you don’t mind.”

She’s so helpless, Alice thought, dreading what she was sure was coming. She clicked off the remote and held the straw in the glass for Betty Senior to sip on.

While Alice did those small chores, she saw Brenda go over to the door and turn the old key in its lock, then the bolt. They each made an audible click.

“What was that?” Betty Senior asked.

Alice put the glass back on the bedside tray. Brenda came toward the bed again, her high heels silent on the carpet. “I locked the door,” she said.

“What on earth for?” Betty Senior seemed more surprised than alarmed.

“So we won’t be disturbed,” Brenda said. Her eyes roamed the room. She stepped over to the windows and drew the drapes closed. “Turn off the lights, Alice,” she commanded.

As Alice touched the switch, a loud banging on the door made her jump.

“Open this door immediately.” Betty’s voice sounded muffled but determined.

Brenda rushed over to the door. “Can’t do that right now, Betty,” she said. “And you better not try to get in. I have a gun.”

Betty Senior gasped and almost choked. Alice offered the glass of water again. Betty Senior shook her head as far as she was able. Alice understood and put the glass back down.

“What’s going on?” Betty Senior whispered.

“It will all become clear soon enough,” Brenda said as she came over to the bed and sat down in the visitor’s chair. “Do you remember a resident called Lisbeth Cantrell?”

Betty Senior frowned. “What’s she got to do with this?”

“She was my mother!” Brenda screamed.

Alice put her hand over her mouth to hold back a moan and went to sit down in the other chair, her whole body shaking. She took her hands and placed them between her knees, holding tight. She felt as if she might fly apart.

“I am Jessica Cantrell,” Brenda said, her voice once again calm.

“You?” Betty Senior exclaimed. “It can’t be. You’re not fat.”

“Don’t use that word! Don’t ever say that word again.” Brenda gripped the arms of the chair and took several deep breaths. In a calmer tone, she said, “You never once guessed, did you?”

Betty Senior gaped at her. “Never,” she whispered. “What do you want?”

“Revenge.”

The word seemed to echo in the room. No one spoke for a long time as Brenda and Betty Senior stared at each other.

“You’re the one who’s been murdering residents?” Betty Senior finally said, her tone incredulous.

Brenda smiled. A chill crawled up Alice’s back, and she pressed her knees closer together against her hands.

“Merry Hills owes me. Your daughter owes me. Payback time has arrived.”

Betty Senior scowled at Brenda. “You murdered Ida Perkins, Mrs. Lacy and Lettie Black? Why them? Why didn’t you just come for me?”

Brenda rolled her eyes. “The first two to make Betty squirm. I knew she’s figure out they weren’t natural deaths. Lettie because she saw me leaving Mrs. Lacy’s room right afterward. I couldn’t take a chance with her. It was too bad. I liked Lettie.”

Bile rose in Alice’s throat. She swallowed. Had to swallow again when Betty Senior turned her head as far away from Brenda as she could and looked at Alice, the question in her eyes.

“No,” she protested. “No, I had nothing to do with it. I swear.”

Brenda looked quickly back and forth between Betty Senior and Alice. She laughed again—a disdainful sound. “You thought Alice capable of murder? Mousy Alice?”

Alice resented the remark. “I’m not—” She clamped her lips shut and scowled at Brenda.

The social services director continued to smile at Betty Senior, ignoring Alice. “There’s a history of violence in her family, so I can see why you believed she might be involved.” Brenda relaxed against the back of the chair, but her hand remained in her pocket with the gun. “But, no, she’s here because I have been waiting for some way to let your daughter know who was responsible for everything and so I could finish and get out of here safely. Alice is my ticket home, so to speak.”

Betty Senior licked her lips. “What do you mean, finish?”

“I think you know. Haven’t you wished sometimes your stroke had killed you outright? Don’t you sometimes lie there and wish it was all over? Well, wishes can come true! I promise it will be painless,” she continued in her Social Services voice.

Alice shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. She watched Brenda as if she were some exotic species she’d never seen before.

“Why don’t you do it now and get it over with?” Betty Senior asked harshly. Her voice did not quaver.

“No, we need to wait. Alice has been in touch with her family, and her father is on his way.”

Betty Senior’s eyes turned to Alice. “You remember where your family is? Alice, that’s wonderful! But, Brenda…” She looked back at the social services director. “Why are you involving her? And waiting for her father?”

“It’s complicated,” Brenda replied. “You tell her, Alice.”

“Me?” Alice’s voice squeaked. “I can’t… I couldn’t explain…”

“Of course you can. Why am I doing this?”

Alice hesitated, then said, “Because you think Merry Hills, especially Betty, is responsible for your mother’s death.”

“I don’t think it, Alice,” Brenda said in a patient tone. “I’m certain of it. You remember how she died, don’t you?” She glared at Betty Senior.

“Yes, it was tragic. She fell out of bed while trying to climb around the rails. Betty had suggested to you she be physically restrained, but you refused.”

“If they’d watched her more closely, it never would have happened,” Brenda shouted as she stood up suddenly. She went to the windows and pulled the drapes aside to look out.

Alice looked at Betty Senior for some sign, some direction about what to do. Before she could even think of anything at all, Brenda let the drapes fall back into place and turned around.

“She was all I had,” Brenda said, her voice soft and sad. “We had only each other.” She glared at Betty Senior again. “And your daughter, through her neglect, killed her. As surely as if she put a gun to her head, she murdered my poor, helpless mother.” Moving quickly, Brenda took the gun from her pocket and put the muzzle against Betty Senior’s temple.

Alice gasped, then covered her mouth with her hand, eyes staring, unable to look away.

“Your daughter is going to pay. She’s going to suffer as I have suffered.”

The click of the hammer sounded loudly in the room.

“Don’t, oh, don’t,” Alice moaned. She stood up on shaky legs and took a step toward the bed.

Brenda laughed and took the gun away from Betty Senior’s head. “I told you we’re going to wait for your father. Tell Betty Senior why he’s going to appreciate this. He avenged his wife’s death, didn’t he? He’ll love this. Tell her!”

Brenda put the gun back into her pocket and sat down.

“No, no, I can’t,” Alice sobbed and sank into the chair again.

“Of course you can,” Brenda soothed. “We have to fill the time until he gets here, so you might as well tell Betty Senior all about it.”

Alice shook her head wildly, her hair hitting her chin, eyes streaming.

“Alice,” Betty Senior said, “calm down. It’ll be all right. Come on, now. Brenda’s right. Tell me what you’ve remembered.”

Brenda stared at Alice until, in a monotone, she began. She explained what she recalled from the beginning. When she told about her mother’s murder, she looked away from Betty Senior.

Brenda interrupted her. “But see, that’s one reason I need her here. She understands revenge, don’t you, Alice?”

Alice frowned at Brenda and didn’t answer, just went on with the story. When she told about her father and Nana and the gun, she faltered again, gazing at the picture on the wall of wild flowers and a pond instead of at Betty Senior.

“You see why Alice can understand my viewpoint, don’t you?” Brenda interrupted her again. “Tell Betty Senior about remembering the phone number.”

“It’s my Aunt Ginny’s number. I talked to her, and she says my dad’s on his way.”

“And you’re waiting for him?” Betty Senior said to Brenda. “Do you think he’ll give you absolution?”

“He’ll understand!” Brenda said, two spots of bright color highlighting her cheeks. “If anyone will, he will.”

Betty Senior shifted her head restlessly on the pillow. Her eyes looked up and back toward the overbed light. Alice gazed at the light, too.

“What?” Brenda asked and stood up. “What’s up there? A spider? What?” She went up to the head of the bed and squinted toward the light. “A hole. Why is there a hole in the frame?”

Betty Senior didn’t answer.

Brenda took the old woman’s hands and crossed them over her stomach. Then she placed the muzzle of the gun at Betty Senior’s temple once more.

Betty Senior sighed. “We’re on video. Maxwell and Donald placed cameras in several rooms.”

Brenda slowly took the gun away and tucked it back into her pocket. She looked at Alice and laughed again. “Wonderful! Oh, this is better than I could have imagined.” Her voice turned grim. “Betty will get to see it all. And she won’t be able to do a thing to stop me!”