Snow Blind-J Collins 4 (7 page)

Before I responded, three loud beeps sounded from the black box clipped to her belt. Luella unclipped it and read the tiny screen. Her lips made an
O
before turning into a deep frown.

“Bad news?”

Her head whipped up. “Why would you ask that?”

Talk about suspicious. “You don’t look happy.”

“I’m not. Just something I have to take care of.”

I watched her weigh the pros and cons of asking me to accompany her. “Anything I can do to help?”

“No. This’ll just take a minute. Might be best if you—”

“I’ll tag along. It’ll give me a chance to look around.”

“But—”

“No really, I don’t mind at all.”

59

She didn’t argue.

As I trudged behind her into the hive I noticed several big green signs declaring, “I’m OK,” hanging from the knob. Was that the check-in system Reva told me about?

My nose wrinkled. Man. It smelled rank. Why didn’t anyone notice? Why didn’t someone do something about it? There had to be industrial-sized air fresheners that could mask the scent.

A young male in uniform, about six feet four and severely underweight, shifted nervously at the end of the hallway. The second he caught sight of Luella, he pushed his mop of Day-Glo orange hair from his eyes and lumbered closer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. No one is at the front desk or answering the phone in the acute care wing and Ricky is late because his car won’t start—”

“Damon. It’s all right. Calm down.”

He swallowed and nodded.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I was doing rounds and I got to the end of the hall when I noticed there wasn’t no sign up on this apartment and the door was partially open.”

“What did you do?”

“I peeked inside and saw him lying there. Then I smelled him.”

Luella squeezed past him and pushed open the door.

A sickly scent of rot, unwashed skin, urine, and shit wafted out from inside the room.

60

Someone was dead.

My fingers sought the handicapped railing behind me and I held on. Nice fucking start to my day. I looked at the room number.

“Damon? Could you come in here?”

His bulk had blocked most of the doorway and now I had a birds-eye view of the dead, if I chose to look.

Don’t
.

I didn’t want to, but my gaze wandered that direction anyway.

An old, naked Indian man was sprawled on his side. I couldn’t tell if he was fat or just bloated from death gases. His thick neck was cranked so his bald head faced the door; his eyes were open as if he’d been waiting for someone.

I figured even if I moved closer I wouldn’t see a pool of blood anywhere, just the usual puddle of liquid from his bowels emptying. No foul play here. Only the final indignity of death.

Still made me want to throw up. I could’ve gone the rest of my life without seeing another dead body—even one from natural causes. I closed my eyes and listened to Luella calling 911 for a nonemergency situation.

When she said, “Kate?” I nearly jumped from my skin. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Why don’t you head back to the common room? I’ll meet you there when I’m done.”

“How long will you be?”

“Half an hour or so.”

61

“Okay.” That’d give me enough time. I spun toward hallway two. And luck was with me when I noticed the green “I’m OK” sign on his door. I knocked.

Vernon Sloane answered by yelling, “What do you want?” through the closed door.

“Luella sent me to tell you she might be late.”

Silence.

“Mr. Sloane?”

The door opened. He blinked at me with vacant eyes.

“Hi, I’m—”

“Susie? Is that you?”

“No. My name is Kate. Is it all right if I come in?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he demanded, “Where’s Susie?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is she coming?”

I turned sideways and slipped past him.

Luckily he didn’t throw me out, but closed the door.

The apartment was unbearably hot, and I loosened my coat as I looked around. Typical bachelor pad; beige walls and carpeting. Navy blue couch. One battered tan recliner facing the window and the TV. No kitschy doodads anywhere. It was depressing as hell.

Stacks of word search puzzle books were piled on one end of the coffee table. Two simple black frames hung above the sofa. A black-and-white wedding photo and a picture of a much younger Vernon sitting behind the wheel of a big old car. I stepped forward to take a closer look at the pictures.

62

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

“Yes. When was it taken?”

“Oh, 1948. The same year I bought it.”

He wasn’t talking about his wife, but the car.

“I loved that Roadmaster. See, it’s a convertible?

’Course, you can’t tell the color, but it was the creami-est soft yellow, the shiniest paint Buick ever put on a car. Reflected like a mirror. Still looks pretty good for an antique. I’d offer to take you for a spin, but she’s kind of touchy in the snow. Nothing like those four-wheel drives everyone has these days.”

Hadn’t Amery told us her grandfather had totaled his car, resulting in the loss of his driver’s license? What was I supposed to do? Correct him? Play along?

Better change the subject.

I turned around and smiled.

His eyes clouded and he backed away, slowly, hands in the air in front of him like I’d jabbed a gun in his face. “Why are you here?”

“Luella sent me, remember?”

“You look like her, but you don’t sound like her.”

Maybe he was blind, too, because I hoped to hell I didn’t resemble a sixty-year-old woman. “Who? Luella?”

“My Susie.”

“I’m not Susie, Mr. Sloane.” I sat and hoped he’d do the same. “But as long as we’re on the subject, why don’t you tell me about her?”

“I can’t. They’ll kill her.”

Man. I was so out of my league. I’d never dealt 63

with this type of situation. “Okay. Why don’t you tell me about your granddaughter, Amery, instead?”

“Who?”

“Amery. Susie’s daughter.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about. Susie is just sixteen years old. She’s a baby, not old enough to have a baby. Are you trying to trick me into telling you where she is?”

Over your head, Julie.
“Ah. No.”

“Who is this Amery person?”

“Never mind. I should—”

“Susie went away because I couldn’t keep her safe.

They wanted to hurt her. Sometimes she sneaks in here to see me. I have to hide her from them. But that means my sweet girl has to hide from her papa, too.”

His vacuous eyes flared panic. “You won’t tell them she was here, will you?”

“No. Your secret is safe with me.”

His gaze pierced my forehead as if he could see my brain to gauge whether or not I was lying. “I’m paying them to keep her safe now. She’s in a place no one will ever find her.”

“Paying who?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he snapped off.

Mr. Sloane was getting more riled up. I knew I’d made a mistake barging in here. Problem was, I didn’t know how to fix it. He kept muttering and gesturing at me like he was warding off an evil spirit. It didn’t help I felt like I’d slipped on the devil’s skin.

64

My frantic gaze landed on the coffee table. “I used to love to do word search puzzles.”

Vernon Sloane glared at me. “You’re lying. Why are you really here?”

Shit.

“For more money?”

I stood. “Look. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll go.”

“I know your type. You smile while you lie so it’ll be easier to trick me.”

My cheeks burned.

“How much are they paying you?”

Not nearly enough. And while I hurt for Amery, having to deal with a deranged grandfather, I figured she was money ahead if someone like Luella shared the emotional burden. Whatever Luella was making wasn’t nearly enough. Sounded callous but I didn’t care.

“Mr. Sloane. It was nice meeting you.” If I hadn’t been wearing clunky boots I would’ve sprinted for the door.

He called out, “Don’t hurt her. Please. I’ll do anything to keep my Susie safe. Take my car. Wait.

I’ll find the keys. They’re here someplace.”

Made my ears burn with shame to hear his pleading tone. “Susie is safe, remember? I don’t need your car.”

He didn’t respond. I was afraid if I stuck around I’d hear him crying. Making an old man cry. What a fucking great thing to add to my day after seeing a dead guy.

I stepped into the hallway and pressed my back to 65

the wall to slow my guilty breathing.

Screw this. Since Kevin wanted to take this case so fucking bad he could finish it. I had no reason to stick around and talk to Luella. I’d gotten more than I came for: proof anyone could take advantage of Vernon Sloane. Proof he needed acute care.

One thing left to do. I peered around the corner.

Rubberneckers filled the hallway, mesmerized by the workings of the ambulance crew. Probably some kind of morbid entertainment for the residents. No one paid attention to me as I headed down hallway four and knocked on door 407.

66

First thing I noticed when Reva opened her apartment door were all the bookcases. The second thing I noticed was the way her eyes lit up when she saw me.

“Julie! Was your nose itching? I was just thinking about you.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“Pooh. Don’t stand there; come in. Would you like a cup of tea? I just made a fresh pot.”

My mouth opened to refuse. But would it kill me to stick around for more than two minutes? No. I wasn’t in a big hurry to go outside into the cold and snow anyway. “That’d be great.”

“Sit.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Be witty and entertaining because Lord knows 67

I’ve been bored out of my skull lately.”

Everything in her kitchen was proportioned for her wheelchair. She took two dainty gold-rimmed teacups from a drawer and placed them on matching saucers. Then she lifted a crocheted tea cozy from the teapot and poured the steaming liquid into the cups.

“Carry those to the table and I’ll rustle up some cookies.”

While she fussed, I peeked in the sugar bowl.

Yep. Sugar cubes. I snatched one with the fancy small silver tongs and thought of Martinez. He loved the damn things.

Reva rolled up to the side of the table without a chair and slid a plate of Walkers butter cookies in the center. “There. So tell me, Miss PI, what brings you here on such a nasty day?”

I sipped my tea, hoping the sugar would mask the flowery taste. “I had an appointment with Luella. But right after I got here she had to deal with . . .” Hell. I didn’t know if Reva had heard about the dead guy yet.

“Walter Jumps High’s bloated body.”

“You knew about him?”

“I was making my morning rounds when that redheaded punk puked in the hallway.” She blew on her tea. “I wasn’t surprised. Walter was severely diabet-ic, severely overweight, and had heart attack written all over him. Not that he did anything to change his bad habits, so no one wanted anything to do with him.

Like those of us who don’t have family, he mostly kept 68

to himself.”

That was a little unsympathetic. Because he was Indian?

“Besides, this is an old folks’ home. Someone is always found dead. It’ll be old news by noon.”

“Well, it was a shock to me first thing, especially when Luella was the first one called. Shouldn’t that responsibility fall to a nurse or someone qualified?”

“Usually it does, so I think they’re short-staffed today. Used to be one of the nurses from Acute Care would do rounds with Security. Now those minimum-wage idiots do the checks. If they feel like it. I told you what happened to my friend.” Reva chomped on a cookie. “Why were you going in room 208?”

Talk about an eagle eye. “I thought I was discreet.”

“Don’t worry, no one else noticed. But I was surprised to see you going into Vernon Sloane’s room.”

“Do you know him?”

“Not really. Like Walter, he kept to himself until Luella took over. She acts like him playing chess with other residents will cure his decline into dementia. It’s surprising he’s still allowed to live by himself, especially since all he ever talks about is his stupid car when he does deign to leave his room.”

“I kinda got that.”

“Did his family hire you?”

“Why?”

“That’s the thing. I didn’t know he had family since I’ve never seen him with anyone.”

69

A weird tingle danced up my spine. “Maybe they prefer to meet privately.”

She shook her head. “Trust me, anyone who has family visit makes sure everyone in here
knows
they have family, because so many of us don’t.”

“You’ve never met his granddaughter?”

“Nope. What’s she look like?”

“Young. Blond. Really pretty.”

“I would’ve remembered her. Did you ask him about her?”

I nodded. “He didn’t know her at all.”

“Shame. If I had grandkids, you can bet I’d be parading them up and down the hallways in a dog-and-pony show.”

“You don’t have kids?”

“Nope. My husband and I weren’t particularly upset by it at the time. Kinda lonely now.”

I reached for a cookie and saw Reva squinting at my chest. “What?”

“That’s quite the necklace. Lovely color. Matches your eyes. Did you get that from your sweetie pie?”

Calling Martinez my sweetie pie? Right. My fingers automatically twisted in the thick silver chain. “Yeah.”

“What is that? A sapphire?”

“A star sapphire.” I’d had to look it up online since I’d never seen a stone like it.

She leaned forward and whistled. “That is one big stone. What is it, about fifteen karats?”

“Twenty, I guess.”

70

“He must really like you, sweets. Is there a story behind why he gave it to you?”

I squirmed because I didn’t know.

A few weeks ago, a white box with a big blue satin bow had shown up on the coffee table in my living room. No card. I’d opened the package to find the gorgeous necklace nestled in midnight velvet. Later, Martinez called to ask if I liked my birthday present.