Complicated Care

by Denise M. Hartman

  For the first time in days, her heart rose just a little. Would this connection with Frank actually help her and not hurt someone? At the very least, she could get Frank to the mainland to do the inspection show for Sal in the condo. He couldn’t take the boat shuttle though, RCCC would find out. Logistics to solve. Surely they could think of something.

  “I think I know someone that might be able to help us in that.”

  “Why didn’t you say so before?”

  “I hadn’t thought of it then, you grumpy old man. I thought you had resources.” She poked back at him.

  “Yeah, yeah. Well, I got your auditor scheduled. And Alice is getting the carpet bids.”

  “Good work, Al. First good news I’ve had a in a while.” She filled him in on Tommy and the other dead ends she’d hit at every turn.

  “So the reporter will only help with Shirley, if you feed him El Tigre?” Al whistled, and Blanche could imagine him raise his fishing hat on his head as he usually did.

  “I don’t actually know who El Tigre is, but he might be Cuban, maybe Antonio according to John. I don’t want to get Antonio into any trouble if he’s innocent.” She paused. “To tell the truth I like him and don’t really want to get him in trouble.”

  Al snorted. “Well, that’s a dilemma if he’s a murderer. You know?”

  “Yeah, I know. Do you think he is?”

  Al didn’t respond and she could see him in her mind’s eye frowning in thought.

  “Hard to say. He seems pretty suave for a mass murderer.”

  Blanche rang off and turned from the window toward the sound of wrecking cars and found Seth standing in the dining entry.

  “Hey, Gran.”

  “Hey, yourself. You want ice cream?”

  “Yeah, sure.” They turned toward the kitchen and he said, “You on another case?”

  “You’re too smart for your own good.”

  He grinned lopsidedly.

  The entire grandkid gang crowded in to the kitchen nook and piled on the ice cream. Unlimited evening ice cream was a speciality with Grandma Blanche.

  Her Dragon phone chirped as the battery threatened to die. She’d forgotten the charger when she left Florida she realized. Last night she hadn’t given a thought to charging it at the hotel as her thoughts were consumed by Tommy’s situation. She guessed the battery going down meant Diane the Dragon couldn’t call and listen to the mundane conversation with her grandkids.

  Seth picked it up. “Super good phone choice, Grams. Really legit.”

  “Is it?”

  He nodded scanning all the various things on the phone that Blanche had yet to explore or understand. She’d been a little busy since she’d gotten it.

  “How’d you get such a sick one?”

  “A what?” He waved the phone and she took it to be something positive. “It’s not mine actually. I will have to give it back soon.”

  “Too bad, it’s decent.”

  Blanche imagined that was high praise in teen speak. “You guys want to play Scrabble?”

  “I’ll download Scrabble to your phone. You can play when you’re waiting in line and stuff.”

  She chuckled at the thought of herself turning into all these people that stare at a device all the time.

  He turned on a flashlight she didn’t know was there and started trying to give his brother’s an eye exam until she stopped him.

  “Which button does that?” He pointed to one that indeed was a beam of light. Blanche realized she made things too complicated.

  “Look, Gran. Someone took pictures on here too.”

  Blanche’s bouffant head shot up. “Don’t look at those.”

  He snickered. “Dirty pictures, Grams?”

  “Not funny. More like blurry pictures.” She felt a cloud of disappointment about the office invasion of a few days ago.

  “I bet I could fix ‘em.”

  Blanche’s interest perked up. “How?”

  “Well, it’d be better if I could upload them to my computer and do some work in Photoshop Express.” He navigated to the photos and said, “Yeah, I could work with some of these.”

  He looked up and gave her that sideways grin.

  Could the day of disaster be redeemed on some level?

  The phone shut down in his hand.

  “What happened?”

  “Out of juice. Did you bring a cord?”

  Blanche wilted again. “No.”

  “We can go buy one tomorrow. I’ll set you up.”

  “You can do that? You don’t have to use the one it came with?”

  “Oh yeah, you’ll want one of these for yourself when I’m done with you.”

  She smiled and she could actually feel a blossom of hope, but dang the cords, she couldn’t find out if there was truly something to be redeemed until tomorrow. She prayed there would be something useful and that Seth would be clever enough.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Blanche paced behind Seth who had shown her which cords to buy to charge and which connected the Dragon phone to his computer. Would this be a day, a moment of vindication, of redemption of failed attempts, or would it be one more fail?

  “Grams, you’re making me nervous. This isn’t like instant. No Polaroids or anything. It’ll take me a few.”

  “But you can see them? The pictures?”

  “Yeah, no prob. Chill. Just gotta import and do some adjustments to see what we can get out of them. Remind me to teach you how to take a photo on your phone too.”

  She grimaced and went to make sure the younger two grandkids weren’t killing each other or burning the house down. That was all she needed death and mayhem to feel responsible for at the family level as well.

  Blanche patted her wilted strawberry up-do and wondered about going out for more hair pins as she looked in the fridge for inspiration. Some cold coffee would be a good pick-me-up.

  She made herself sit and watch Ben and Micah throw dirt at each other in the yard. Fresh air was good, right? She concentrated on breathing the way she did when the sun set and fear rose in her throat. She forced her eyes to dwell on the flowers and the God given beauty that existed even in a ramshackle kids’ garden if you could make yourself see it.

  Oh that she could see everything with clearer eyes. If she could know the outcome of Diane the Dragon’s desire to out some aspect of Shirley’s life, if she could know what had killed Edna’s roommate, if the man in Unit 2 was a real killer or if her new friend Antonio was...

  She wondered what her own heart would tell her if she knew the truth of these things. The one beat she heard from her heart loud and clear was: get Janice out and rescue Edna.

  A fairy godmother and an easy answer would be handy about now. She took a gulp of bitter cold coffee and listened to Ben yell at Micah.

  Then she heard something else. Seth calling to her from upstairs. She half knocked over her coffee getting up but caught the plastic cup at an angle before it spilled. She raced upstairs as best as her 76-year-old legs would go.

  Seth’s dishwater blond head bent over the phone with his studied gaze. She had no words. He appeared not to have done anything.

  “Okay, so I just set up your email on the phone too. You got like a bunch of junk and something from a guy.” He used his best sarcasm on the last word.

  “From whom?”

  “Some John guy.” He gave her a crooked smile and said, “Please Grams, tell me you do not have a boyfriend.”

  “I do not have a boyfriend. Yet.” She had no intention of getting one but loved giving him the business.

  “Who’s this guy?” He held the phone up for her inspection. It was the grainy shot of the younger Antonio, maybe a surveillance photo. But she’d seen him younger on the internet, so the cops would know who he was anyway, right?

  “Don’t read the email,” Blanche ordered.

  He snickered and handed her the phone while he turned to his laptop that dwarfed her tiny notebook c
omputer at home.

  She snatched the phone with hungry eyes. John had dug up an archive from a police surveillance file he said adding to what he’d already sent. Anyone with a brain could see this was Antonio, so what was the mystery? She read the email.

  The fuzzy surveillance picture was someone the police had wanted “for questioning” at the time as a person of interest. John had not gotten it from the cops, but he believed the photo might be the El Tigre of the various Funosa hits in the early 80s and 90s. He’d disappeared then.. John said rumors circulated maybe he’d left the country or been imprisoned in some other case. John on the other hand, investigative journalist that he was, had been talking to associates and thought he’d tracked him to retirement on Royale Cove Island. The anniversary of the massacre was drawing near and John wanted to do a revisit with who El Tigre could be or even better reveal him. The island’s isolation and limited access had stumped John and when he’d recognized Blanche’s name on a manifest he hoped he could get a break. So he was coming clean more on his story plan. He didn’t seem to know about the care center yet.

  Furthermore, he had a friend at a tabloid that would love a celebrity story and was prepared to help get Shirley off the island IF Blanche found El Tigre, for John.

  Blanche’s hope soured. John seemed near to figuring out Antonio’s “hideout.” He would probably get the info eventually even if Blanche didn’t help him.

  She had to face it. Antonio may well be this infamous El Tigre hit man. Or the police had gone down the wrong trail at the time? Antonio would not have been fingered for the killer if he was living pure and clean working at a factory. John wanted Antonio in order to help Shirley.

  Blanche chewed her lipstick. Diane and John just wanted major life changing stories — life changing for Antonio and Shirley for sure. Human beings were involved here. No one cared about Janice or millions of Medicare fraud. Since when did bilking the government for millions not qualify as a decent news story? No one took pride in their work anymore.

  Should she warn Antonio the news was on to him? But if he had killed those people, could she turn a blind eye to that? He wasn’t in the business now. How do you pay for past sins? She knew her Sunday School lessons. You couldn’t pay: that’s the whole point of Jesus paying for us. Poor Tonio. None of those other people would come back from the dead. Tonio had a sense of justice in him hunting Señor Rafael the despot in Unit 2.

  Blanche burned suddenly with a need to check in and see what was happening on the island. Was everyone okay? Had anyone killed anyone else?

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  It wasn’t an emergency but Blanche dialed AnaRosa’s cell number. Cellular service failed intermittently on the island and she crossed her fingers she’d get the RCCC worker on the line.

  Blanche crept into the hall so Seth couldn’t eavesdrop.

  “Hola?” AnaRosa’s hesitant voice came on the line. Blanche felt certain it was due to her unknown phone number.

  “It’s Blanche. You know? Edna’s friend?”

  “Oh, Miss Blanche. Where are you? It is terrible. You must do something.”

  “What’s terrible? What’s happening?” Blanche’s heart skipped a beat.

  “They are trying to force Miss Shirley to sleep with one of the secret guests.”

  “What?”

  “It’s terrible. Miss Shirley she is really upset.”

  “What? When? They can’t make her, can they?”

  “I don't understand it, but Carlos forces her to do things she doesn’t like.”

  It’s the secrets of Veda Vespucci, Blanche thought. Doggone it, that’s the root which seems to have started all this mess. Secrets of the rich and famous. If people had regular old dull lives being executive secretaries, they wouldn’t have these problems. No one would hunt them or threaten them.

  “Can you hide her for a few days?” Blanche thought she may have to throw Antonio to the wolves to get Shirley out quick. Talk about being stuck in a bad place.

  “Where? The residents all have to be in their beds each night. Carlos he goes everywhere.”

  Blanche thought. “What about the Dementia Unit? Is Carlos there a lot?”

  AnaRosa snorted. “No, he only does things where he can gain an advantage. Those poor souls they are not all there.”

  “But you help in there?”

  “Yes, yes. Of course.”

  “Can you get in there and let me talk to Janice?”

  “You think Miss Morgan could help?”

  “I have an idea. If you guys figure out a way to call me later, I’ll see if it will work.”

  Blanche heard Seth call her name in the office. “I gotta go.”

  Blanche felt her face flush and didn’t want Seth to grill her. She took a deep breath and tried on a smile. She could use a cigarette but not in front of the grandkids.

  She pushed open the door and Seth had a big grin. “Got it, Grams. Look.”

  She approached the computer screen and saw within it the bounds of Bruce’s computer in the photo from her office invasion at Royale Cove. It was still blurry but a readable confirmation of a Mr. Smith332 and a bank transfer to an off shore account. This was proof. No names but surely this could spark some investigation. She wanted to shout whoop-ee but refrained herself.

  “Anything else?”

  “Yeah, this other one. It confirms surgery signed by some Spanish name. They’re blurry but you can read them now.”

  Blanche felt a glimmer of hope. She wasn’t sure how to bring this together, but the day of the office invasion had not been a total waste. Janice’s sacrifice bore fruit. That was something anyway. How could she get officials to lay their hands on this stuff? The island is so private.

  “Can you print those for me?”

  “That’s so old school, Grams.” Seth rolled his big brown eyes so like her own, but the printer whirred. “I’m also gonna load ‘em back on the phone. You’ll have a digital copy in case you lose your paper ones.”

  “Huh. Clever kid.”

  “Of course, Gran, I’m related to you.”

  It was her turn to roll her eyes.

  “What’s this about this time?” He gave her a conspiratorial grin.

  “Mostly fraud. Nothing dangerous.”

  “$250,000 is a big pay off. I imagine someone throwing around that much dough has a gun or knows karate.” Seth stood up and gave a gangly teenage kick to the air.

  “Yeah, sure. And they probably aren’t looking for old ladies.”

  He laughed.

  “Don’t tell your mom. Right? You holding up your end of the bargain?”

  “Scout’s honor.”

  “But you dropped out of Scouts.”

  He just smiled. She’d caught him getting into her booze on his last visit and she wanted to stymie a bad habit.

  “Can you put those images on a new email?” She pointed a well polished nail at his computer.

  He turned in his chair and his hands started moving over the keyboard and mouse. Blanche envied the dexterity and comfort with these modern conveniences.

  “Then can I use your computer?”

  He sighed exaggeratedly. “Don’t break anything, Grams.” He got out of his seat and headed down the stairs. No doubt to start a video game in the living room.

  She did a search on Rafael Angel Castellano. Such an irony that an evil death camp boss would have the name of angels. She copied the link to the story of the horrible butcher of Cuban people. She didn’t have confirmation that the guy burning up Antonio was for sure Rafael but maybe a journalist could put the pieces together.

  She sent John the images of bank transfers and surgeries and explained the entire idea as she understood it today even though she didn’t have evidence of the judicial kind. If he dug around, she knew he’d find how the name on the bank transfer connected to Señor Rafael. Bruce the Bald Johnson’s name and his position would be a matter of public record. It wouldn’t be fast. She’d hope and pray that John would jump on it.<
br />
  She phrased it that the person who found this information might be connected to El Tigre. The Tigre wanted to atone for things earlier in life by bringing other forms of justice like revealing Rafael to the world.

  She bit her lip and hoped Antonio didn’t have his hands around Rafael’s throat as she typed the words.

  The purring and the read out on the phone indicated AnaRosa calling back. Blanche snatched up the device.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Blanche answered the phone and heard AnaRosa say quickly, “I will vacuum outside the door so no one can hear you and if the vacuum goes off you stop the call, sabes?”

  “Got it,” Blanche said.

  “Were you able to work out any sort of system in those Medicare code papers we got from the office?” Blanche asked anxious for a positive coherent answer. Could all the dementia sufferers push Janice over the edge of her reality?

  “I did unlock a code of sorts in how the numbers correspond and it’s just what I thought. They’re giving the poor data entry girl a jacked up correction list that puts higher priced costs on common tasks performed for patients.”

  What a relief Blanche thought. Progress. “Could you write that all out somehow and send it to me?” Blanche concentrated over the sound of AnaRosa vacuuming in the background.

  “How?”

  “I believe that AnaRosa can take pictures of it on her cellphone and send it to my email.” Blanche hoped she wasn’t making that up. From this morning’s work with Seth, she was pretty sure she was right.

  “I’ve got most of it written out. I was trying to keep it clear in my head and made shorthand notes, so no one around here would read it. When I transcribe it, I’ll see if she can send it.”

  “No need to transcribe them. I can do that with shorthand. Perfect.”

  An eerie quiet came down the line, no vacuum. Blanche pulled the phone away from her head and looked. The numbers were still ticking. A muffled sound came from far away.