Snow Blind-J Collins 4 (8 page)

That’d been the extent of it. I reacted as coolly as he had, because I’d never had a man give me jewelry. Afterward I suspected Martinez had as much experience giving it as I had receiving it so I’d been leery of asking questions.

“Julie?”

“It was a birthday gift from my boyfriend.”

“My late husband was romantic to the core. You’d never know it by looking at him, a big, rough, dirty Wyoming oil rigger.” Her blue eyes were soft, her smile wistful. “He’s been gone ten years and I miss that sweet, gruff man every damn day.”

I didn’t do well with tears. “The librarian and the roughneck? Sounds like the makings of a fine romance novel, Reva.”

A sly wink. “More like an erotic romance novel.”

I lifted my teacup. “Here’s to men who are a little rough around the edges and the edgy, rough sex.”

“Amen.” She chinked her cup against mine.

“Thanks for the tea party. Next time, maybe we should toast with something stronger. Like this.” I set 71

the bottle of Jack Daniels next to the cookies. “Thanks for your help. Don’t drink it all before I come back, okay?”

Reva’s mouth opened and closed. Tears shimmered in her eyes.

Ah, hell, I hadn’t meant to fluster her. Dammit.

Apparently I sucked at the gift-giving thing as much as my sweetie pie did. “Consider it a bribe. I’ll be around to pick your brain some more.”

“You’re really planning to come back?”

I said, “Yes,” and meant it.

She watched me closely as I wrapped up in my winter gear. “Be careful out there, Miss PI.”

“I will. You be good. And if you can’t, have fun being bad, spy girl.”

Guilt made me search out Luella before I escaped.

As I neared the employee break room, I heard male laughter.

“You’re a fuckin’ pussy, Damon, blowing chunks in the hallway.”

“Yeah? Well, it was fuckin’ gross. Seeing that fat gut-eater in a pile of his own shit and piss. Smelled like bad Indian tacos in there.”

“So? I wouldna puked.”

72

“Bullshit. You think you’re so fuckin’ tough, Ricky.”

“No, I’da been happy to find spooky fucker dead.

He freaked me out.”

“Why? Think he’d do some Indian voodoo shit to you? Make you wear feathers in your hair? Do the Sun Dance and pierce your man titties? Force you to call him chief and smoke the peace pipe?”

“Fuck you. I ain’t afraid of no fuckin’ red-skinned hoop. Weirdo never looked me in the eye. Just mumbled and shuffled his moccasins if I asked him something. Always stunk like booze and that stupid incense shit he burned in his room, too. I’m just fuckin’

glad he’s gone to the happy hunting grounds.”

They both laughed. “Another one bites the dust.”

A slap of hands in a high five. “Maybe we’ll get someone in there now who isn’t a fat fuckin’ welfare case and they’ll tip us for all the shit we do.”

I made myself visible in the doorway. I hoped I looked as pissed off as I felt. “Good acoustics in the hallway. Which means I just heard every disrespect-ful, stupid, racist piece of garbage that fell out of your big, stupid mouths.”

Surprise, followed by defiant looks.

“What in the hell is the matter with you two? It’s not enough a man is dead? You have to rip him and his heritage to shreds? In public? Why? To make yourselves look like big men rather than whiny-assed babies?”

“Who the fuck are you?”

73

“Someone who will go out of her way to make sure your boss knows every inappropriate word you’ve spewed and how unprofessional you’ve acted.”

Another round of laughter. “Right. Like anyone cares what we said about another dead fuckin’ Indian.”

“You think you’re above him? You’re a
janitor
, smart-ass. That man paid your goddamn salary and he deserved your respect, not your scorn.”

“Ooh, Damon, looky here. We got a prairie nigger lover who’s gonna rat us out. We’re shakin’ in our boots. You ain’t got no power over us, so get the fuck out of here.”

“She doesn’t have power over you, but I do.”

I turned and their gazes snapped to Luella.

Absolute silence.

The red-haired kid actually looked mortified. The other young man, a runt with long, greasy hair that didn’t mask the zits covering his face, still appeared defiant.

“You ain’t got no power over us”—he sneered—

“and you know you can’t fire us ’cause you’d be fucked.

No one wants this shitty job anyway.”

Another awkward moment.

“Besides, everyone knows you hoops stick together, no matter what, so ain’t no one gonna believe what you say.”

“Break is over. Get out of my sight or I’ll scalp you, eh?”

Hiking boots hit the linoleum floor and Mr. Big 74

Mouth and his companion strode out.

Luella didn’t look at me. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. Not exactly the family image we want to project to potential customers, is it?”

“Unfortunately, it’s typical of just about everyone’s attitudes around these parts, not just here.” It’d probably rile me worse, but I had to ask. “Do you get that attitude a lot? Since you’re Indian?”

“The mind-set that the only reason an Indian woman has attained a job at this level is because of racial profiling?”

“That, too. But I’m wondering about the attitudes of residents you’re caring for?”

“
Shee
. Some residents doan want me in dere apartments because dey tink I’m gonna steal from dem, hey.

Dey tink ’cause I’m Sioux dat I doan got no education and de only ting I know ’bout business is how to apply for subsidies, hey.” Her sorrowful brown eyes finally met mine. “Yes. I hear that quite frequently. It never gets any easier hearing that garbage.”

“People suck. And it really sucks you get that from co-workers.”

“They don’t care. Kids these days don’t respect anybody. But thanks for calling them on their comments. Most folks would’ve walked away.”

“I’m a rebel with a conscience, not an agenda.”

Well, except for the one involving Vernon Sloane.

Luella cocked her head. “I see that, and I’ll admit I’m confused by it because you don’t look Indian.”

75

“I’m not. My half brother from White Plain was.

I watched him struggle with stereotypes his whole life and I hated it.” I slumped against the wall. “He’s dead and I still hate it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” I signed and buttoned up my coat.

“Sorry if you’ve gone to trouble, Luella, but I’m not in the mood for a tour right now.”

“That’s fine. I understand completely, Kate. I just hope you haven’t written Prairie Gardens off completely.”

“I haven’t. We’ll be in touch.”

“Be careful out there.”

I fled into the snowstorm.

76

My windshield wipers worked overtime as I crept through town. Because of the extreme cold, it wasn’t a heavy, wet snow comprised of big, lacy snowflakes. The white stuff was a fine dust, the consistency between talcum powder and sugar crystals.

When the 40-mph wind caught those icy crystals, it wasn’t like being in a pretty snow globe; it was like being in the middle of a sandstorm.

The mucky gray sky gave no hint to the time of day and I’d lost track. I glanced at the clock. Noon.

Damn day wasn’t even half over. I just wanted to go home and hunker down until the storm passed.

The parking lot of Safeway on Mt. Rushmore Road was jam-packed as locals prepared for the worst.

Maybe the forecasters were right for a change, and we were in for a big blizzard. I shivered and the urge to 77

book it home tripled. But being a responsible partner, I dialed the office to make my report.

Kevin answered on the second ring.

I said, “I’m done at Prairie Gardens.”

His sticky silence competed with the static from my cell phone.

“Kevin? You still there?”

“Yeah. Look. About what you saw yesterday—”

“Save it.” I craved a goddamn cigarette. But I couldn’t smoke, talk on the phone, and drive in a snowstorm all at the same time. “Is there any way you can get Amery to come in, in the next hour? As far as I’m concerned, this case is done.”

“That won’t be a problem. She’s . . . ah, already here. We were having lunch.”

I
so
did not need the mental picture of what Kevin meant by
having lunch.

“Good. I’ll be there in ten. Bye.”

“Julie, wait.”

“What?”

“Be nice when you get here.”

“Why the fuck would I wanna do that?”

“Because I’m asking you to, all right?”

“Whatever.” I hung up.

People parked like idiots downtown the second they saw white fluff. The leased lot was closed. There wasn’t an open spot within two blocks of the office.

By the time I’d hoofed it upstairs, nearly twenty minutes had passed. I unwrapped my scarf, peeled off my 78

gloves, unbuttoned my coat, and jammed a lit cigarette between my lips before I’d made it into the haven of my office.

I slammed the door, needing a minute to find my

“nice” persona. I’d probably left it in my bottom desk drawer next to my spare box of rainbows and butterflies.

Give me a fucking break.

By the time I’d finished Marlboro #2, I’d shed some of my abominable snowman attitude.

Kevin knocked. “Can we come in now?”

“Yeah.”

He opened the door for Amery and pointed to the buffalo skin chair to the left of my desk. How sweet.

Amery looked to Kevin before she spoke to me.

He gave her an encouraging smile. How nauseating.

“Kevin said you were just at the retirement center.

Did you find out anything else?”

“Yes. But I’m not sure it’s what you want to hear, Amery.”

Another panicked doe-eyed look at Kevin. “I don’t understand.”

“How much time have you spent with your grandfather recently?”

“Not much. I told you—”

“That he has Alzheimer’s, yeah, I know. I had no idea how bad it was until I talked to him this morning.”

She blinked those big blue eyes. “You
talked
to him? What did he say?”

“Nothing but gibberish. He thought
I
was your 79

mother. Then he told me he’d hidden her away because

‘they’ were trying to kill her, and he begged me not to tell ‘them’—whatever the hell that meant. He babbled about paying more money to keep her safe, trying to find his car, and by the time I left, he was ready for a straightjacket.”

Amery gasped softly.

“Julie, that’s enough,” Kevin warned.

I ignored him. “So here’s what I think. All this polite bullshit aside. You’re damn lucky Luella is taking care of him. At least someone is. Whatever she’s getting paid is not nearly enough. With what I saw today, and what you’ve told me, I think the best thing you could do for him is move him to the acute care wing.”

“But that’s not—”

“—what you wanted to hear?”

“No. That’s not why I hired you. You’re supposed to be finding out who is taking advantage of him.”

I lit another cigarette. “No, Amery, you hired us because you were concerned about your grandfather’s well-being. And I’m telling you that your original concerns were legitimate. But the only way to make sure he’s not taken advantage of again—financially or emotionally—is to have him moved to a unit where qualified staff can keep an eye on him at all times.” I filled my lungs with smoke. Exhaled. My cynical side counted on her outbreak of tears; my other cynical side hungered for her show of temper.

Amery took a deep breath. “All polite bullshit 80

aside, Ms. Collins, I thought you were a professional investigator. You suggesting that I lock him away, when we all know there are illegal activities going on in that facility, is a cop-out.”

“No more of a cop-out than you ignoring him and getting all pissy when someone else starts paying attention to him.”

“Julie—” Kevin tried to intervene.

“No. Let her finish, Kevin.”

I didn’t glance over at him because I didn’t know if I could stomach the look on his face. “I talked to other residents, Amery. I know you don’t visit him as often as you say you do.”

Her chin drooped to her chest.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

She shook her head. “It’s true I don’t visit him in the common room. If you saw how confused he was today, then you can imagine what he’s like when he sees me.” She slowly lifted her face to meet my eyes.

“Did you ask him about me?”

I nodded.

“He didn’t know who I was, did he?”

“No.”

“That’s because he thinks I’m my mother. I look just like her. Sometimes he even thinks I’m my grand-mother. I suspect part of him knows they’re both dead, and that’s why he gets so flustered when he sees me.

Yes, he has reality issues, some idea that my mother was kidnapped. Sometimes he claims a man took her; 81

sometimes he claims he paid a man to take her to keep her ‘safe.’ So, no, when I visit him we don’t hang out in the common room. Because, like you said, they’d put him in a straightjacket.