Beauty in Hiding

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Beauty in Hiding Page 5

by Robin Patchen


  The system.

  Harper swallowed her apprehension and reached for the clipboard. The instant she had it, the woman focused on the screen again. Harper sat next to Gramps, who’d struck up a conversation with the elderly gentleman beside him. Jack was chatting with a woman behind them while he played peek-a-boo with the toddler in her lap. Harper focused on the paperwork.

  Name, address, number of people in her household and their ages, income amount, and source. The income part was easy. Zero. She had to work to keep her hands steady enough to fill out the information. Surely this place wasn’t connected to some law enforcement database, right? She squeezed her eyes shut. Please, God. Please, God. Please protect us. Protect us, heal us, direct us. Was she asking too much? Was there a limit to what God could—or would—do?

  She had to trust. Gramps had been trying to teach her to trust God for months. She was trying, despite everything.

  She returned the clipboard to the woman behind the counter, who took the paperwork with hardly a glance. “Have a seat. Someone will call you back in a minute.”

  When Harper returned to the chairs, Jack stood. “I’m going to get to work. Red, don’t cause too much trouble.”

  “No promises.”

  Jack turned that smile on her. As if she didn’t feel vulnerable enough. “Good luck. I hope she has some ideas for you.”

  “You’ve gone above and beyond,” Harper said. “Thank you.”

  “What are neighbors for?” He walked down a long hallway and disappeared through a door.

  She fretted and Gramps chatted with other clients while people disappeared into the cubicles, then continued down the hallway, where they grabbed grocery carts that were lined against the wall. Harper didn’t see what happened after that, but she imagined there was a room back there filled with food. Glorious, free food.

  With Jack here, she should refuse it. Her landlord didn’t need to know the level of her desperation. But her pride was overshadowed by her need. The first month’s rent was paid for, and all the utilities were included in the rent. If she could get food, they could survive until she had a paycheck coming in. Maybe, just maybe, she could build a life here in Nutfield. Maybe with her and Gramps out of the way, Derrick would take what he wanted and leave her alone. Maybe nobody would connect her to the two bodies.

  No, she couldn’t think about that.

  The chairs were empty except for her and Gramps when, finally, the blonde came around from the front desk, flipped a sign on the front door to closed, and approached. “You will come with me now.” She looked at Gramps. “Sir, do you mind waiting here?”

  “Not a bit. Gotta read about my Redskins. Maybe this’ll be the year.” Gramps focused on the sports page. He wouldn’t actually read it—he hadn’t done much reading since his memory started to slide. But he’d find a way to keep busy, so Harper stood and followed the woman. They stepped into an empty cubicle, and the woman took a seat behind a desk, where she tapped on a keyboard and focused on the screen. She waved toward a clipboard on the desk. “If you’ll sign in.”

  Harper filled out her name and address and signed it. When she looked up, the woman was watching her with calculating eyes.

  “I am Vanessa Baker. I’m the manager here.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  The woman’s expression didn’t shift from… what was that? Caution? Suspicion? “What brings you to Nutfield?”

  “We just needed a change.”

  “Bah. I don’t think so.” She waved Harper’s words away like an unwelcome smell. “But you don’t have to tell me. And your grandfather, he is well?”

  Harper was reeling from the woman’s words but forced herself to focus. “Usually. He has dementia, which has been getting worse lately. Today is a good day, so far. He also has a bad back that makes it hard for him walk.”

  “He is in pain, no?”

  “He never complains.”

  “On painkillers?”

  “He doesn’t like to take them, but sometimes, he has to. When the pain is unbearable.”

  The woman regarded her with narrowed eyes, mouth pinched. After a moment, she nodded once, said, “Okay,” and typed on her computer. “You are looking for a job?”

  “Yes. I’ll take anything. But Gramps… It would be better if I didn’t have to leave him at home alone.”

  “You have no other family who could take care of him?”

  “No. None.”

  The woman wrote something on a yellow sticky note and handed it across the desk. “Go there, tell Bonnie I sent you. She is looking for someone reliable. You can be reliable?”

  “Definitely.” Harper looked at the note. McNeal’s, 102 Crystal Ave. She’d seen the place driving in this morning, a restaurant just a few blocks from here.

  Before she could ask, Vanessa said, “Your grandfather can stay in the rec center during the day when you work. If you work evenings or early mornings, you’ll get someone else to help. Maybe Jack.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t ask—”

  “You don’t have many options, Miss Cloud.”

  “Harper.”

  The woman nodded. “Harper, you should also know that your grandfather will be allowed to stay in the rec center because Jack volunteers for us. Usually, it’s just for volunteers and their family members.”

  More favors. More to owe the man. “That’s not necessary. I can volunteer, if that’s what it takes.”

  “Very kind but not necessary. Jack has already agreed, so you can focus on getting a job and caring for your grandfather.”

  “But, I mean…”

  For the first time, Vanessa’s green eyes filled with warmth. “I understand this fear you carry. None of us wants to owe another person. Especially a man.” Her eyebrows lifted, waited.

  “Right.” How did this woman see so easily into her heart? “It’s not easy.”

  “They are not all…” She waved toward the air, as if words were floating about, waiting to be snatched. “Some are… many are not trustworthy. I have met many of these kinds of men. You have, too, no?”

  This woman knew exactly what she was thinking. “Yeah.”

  “I do not know him well, but from what I do know, Jack Rossi is a nice man, a kind man. So I think it will be okay. If he has any expectations beyond a thank-you”—she pierced Harper with a knowing look—“you tell me, and I’ll take care of it. We have to stick together, no?”

  Harper let out a surprised laugh. “We do, don’t we?”

  The woman smiled, and her expression lit the room. Beyond the tough exterior resided a woman Harper would love to know better. But she doubted she ever would. Because to get Vanessa to open up, she’d have to do the same. And there was no way Vanessa or Jack or anybody could know the truth about Harper Cloud.

  Chapter Ten

  Derrick checked his watch again, then compared it with the time on his cell phone. Sure enough, the watch was two minutes behind. Seven thousand dollars for this state-of-the-art timepiece—bought used, though nobody needed to know that—and the piece of crap didn’t keep good time.

  He needed to sell it. He needed to sell everything he owned, and even that wouldn’t be enough.

  He glared at the receptionist, whose focus was on her computer screen. She didn’t care that Derrick had a job to do. She couldn’t care less that his entire life hung from a very thin thread, that if he didn’t find his grandfather—fast—he’d lose everything.

  Derrick stood, paced across the small room, his gaze hitting and bouncing off all the so-called artwork. Pretty pictures with pretty lies, quotes from a Bible only the most foolish believed. Trust in the Lord with all your heart… Right. Like, if only he believed in some invisible God, everything would work out just fine. Derrick knew better. He was the only one who cared about his life and his future. He was the only one willing to fight for it.

  The receptionist’s phone dinged, and he spun to stare as she answered. A moment later, she set the phone on its cradle. “Go on in. He’s
ready for you.”

  “It’s about time.” Derrick yanked on the ends of his shirt sleeves, smoothed his jacket, and pulled open the door.

  Roger Canfield stood behind his huge desk. He wore a dark gray cable-knit sweater and slacks, a far cry from the attire Derrick expected of an attorney. Apparently, when you were still working in your seventies, you could dress however you wanted. Roger extended his hand. “Derrick. Glad you could come in.”

  Derrick shook his hand and stifled the complaint about the wait. “Thanks for seeing me.”

  Roger gestured toward the two leather chairs that faced the desk. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  Derrick unbuttoned his suit coat and dropped into the chair. “Harper Cloud, the nurse I hired to take care of Gramps—”

  “And your girlfriend, if I remember correctly.” Roger settled himself in the huge chair on the other side of the desk, knees creaking with the effort. The desk itself was clear except a telephone, a cell phone, a legal-sized notepad, and a pen. “I met her. She’s a lovely person. Devoted to your grandfather.”

  “She was devoted to him, and she was my girlfriend. I guess when I broke up with her, she took it harder than I realized.”

  “What happened?”

  “She took him. I went over there Monday, and they were gone. Checked again yesterday. No sign of them.”

  “So you explained on the phone,” Roger said. “And you’re sure they didn’t take a trip and forget to tell you?”

  “She’s not answering her phone. And Gramps was sick last week. They’re gone, Roger.”

  “You called the police?”

  “Of course.” Derrick had had a long conversation with a police officer the day before, asking that a Silver Alert be put out on his grandfather. “Since he’s never been diagnosed with dementia or Alzheimer’s, they won’t do anything.”

  “Your grandfather is an adult. He has the right to come and go as he pleases.”

  “But she took him! He would never leave without telling me.”

  The old man looked past Derrick and nodded slowly. After a moment, he focused his sharp eyes on Derrick again. “Why would she do that? It would be one thing to take off, but why take your grandfather with her?”

  “I don’t know!” Derrick threw up his hands to emphasize the point. “To get back at me, I guess. To punish me for dumping her.”

  Roger settled back in his chair, tented his fingers, and waited.

  The scrutiny burned, but Derrick forced himself to meet the man’s gaze. After a moment, he shifted, adjusted his glasses, and cleared his throat. “I have no idea what’s going on in her mind, Roger. But…” He blew out a breath, considered his next words very carefully. “After I started dating her, after I…well, I fell for her. Hard. And then I learned about her past. She’s an ex-con.” He looked at the floor, tried to school his face with regret, and looked back up. “If I’d known that, I would never have hired her to care for Gramps. That’s why I broke up with her. I mean, I probably could have forgiven it, but she lied about it. She didn’t tell me until we’d been together for almost a year. I felt betrayed.”

  “Did you try to convince your grandfather to fire her when you learned about her past?”

  Here’s where it got tricky. “I should have. I mean, if I’d known before, I’d never have brought her here. But she was so good with Gramps. I didn’t want him to let her go until I found somebody else just as good. I should have waited to break up with her, but it seemed wrong to pretend. I tried to be honest with her, aboveboard.” He shook his head, filled his voice with despair. “This is all my fault. I handled it all wrong. And now…” Derrick waited for Roger’s response. At this point, the man should tell him it wasn’t his fault and offer to help. That’s what most people would do.

  But Roger Canfield wasn’t most people. And no doubt Gramps had told his attorney all about Derrick’s life and problems.

  “You want me to report the debit card stolen?” Roger asked. “I’m sure you don’t want her to have access to his cash.”

  “No, no. Just keep an eye on it, let me know if she uses it and where. At least that’ll be a clue.”

  Roger nodded. “What do you think she’s after?”

  “Money, of course. I think she’ll call you, beg you to help her. She’ll probably have some sorry story. Or…” He paused as if this idea had just occurred to him. “Oh, my God, you don’t think she’ll make a ransom demand? She has to know what Gramps is worth.”

  “If she did, would you want to pay it?”

  “Of course! I’ll do anything to get Gramps back.”

  Roger made a note on the sheet in front of him. “How much would you be willing to pay?”

  “Me?” He feared his true reaction had come through. As if he’d pay a dime for the old man’s return. “I don’t have the kind of money she’ll want, but Gramps’s estate could cover it.”

  “I see.” Another notation on the sheet. This one took more time.

  What was the man writing? Derrick tried to read the words upside down, but the scrawl was illegible. Roger set the pen down, and Derrick snapped his gaze up.

  “If I hear from her,” Roger said, “or if there’s any activity on the account, I’ll certainly let you know.” Roger stood. “I trust you’ll do the same.”

  Derrick stood as well. “Of course. In the meantime, I’m hoping to hire a private investigator to help me find them.”

  “Excellent idea. Do you need some recommendations? I’m sure one of my associates—”

  “I’ve been in contact with someone who comes highly recommended.” He adjusted his glasses again, buttoned his jacket. “I will need some help with the retainer, of course.”

  Roger’s smile was tighter than his grip on Gramps’s money. “Of course. Have him send me the bill, and I’ll take care of it.”

  “This guy’s not with a big firm. It would be faster if you just gave me—”

  “I would need your grandfather’s go-ahead to transfer the money to you. I have the leeway to pay necessary expenses, but not to give cash payouts.”

  “Under the circumstances, you could make an exception.”

  The man’s smile was Splenda-sweet, but his eyes were shrewd. “No need. Just have your investigator send me a bill, and I’ll be happy to pay it.”

  Derrick stifled his reaction. “Excellent, then. That’ll work. Thank you for your help.”

  They shook hands, and Derrick left, seething. It was time to cash in a favor.

  Chapter Eleven

  Harper followed Vanessa back to the waiting area, where Gramps still sat, alone. He looked up, smiled his most charming smile, and set the newspaper beside him. “Did you get yourself a job?”

  “Not yet,” Harper said, “but I have a prospect.”

  “No idea why you want to work,” he said, “but it’s your life.” He looked beyond Harper to Vanessa and struggled to his feet.

  Harper had to squeeze her hands into fists to keep from helping him, because he’d certainly bat her arm away. In the six months she’d been caring for Gramps, she’d learned his moods. This was his happy I-don’t-need-you mood. Offering to help would offend him.

  He made it to his feet and held out his hand to Vanessa. “Harold Burns, but everybody calls me Red, on account of my luxurious red hair.”

  Vanessa shook his hand. “It is a pleasure.”

  “Nice accent. You’re not from around here, eh?”

  “I am from Serbia.”

  “Never been there. Spent some time in Korea way back. Once I hit American soil, I swore I’d never leave the good old US of A again.”

  “I can understand,” Vanessa said. “I love this country. I hope I will be allowed to stay forever.”

  “You’re not a citizen?”

  “I am not, but I’m working on it.”

  “Well, good for you. Good for you.” He focused on Harper again. “Where we going now, girl?”

  “Actually,” Vanessa said, “I hoped you’d let me introdu
ce you to some of my friends. Can you come with me?” Vanessa turned and started slowly toward the door in the back, the one where Jack had disappeared.

  Gramps looked at Harper with narrowed eyes. “You know what’s going on?”

  Harper shrugged and set the walker in front of him. “Let’s find out.”

  They followed Vanessa down the hall and through the door. On the other side, they found a huge warehouse to their left where people were working and chatting. It was chilly, thanks to the open garage-style door in the back. In the center of the room was a walk-in freezer, if the stainless steel exterior was any indication. A wall stood to their right with a single door and, beyond that, a set of double doors. Harper could see through a glass window into the first, an office.

  Vanessa led them to the double doors. These, too, had glass windows, so Harper got a glimpse inside. It seemed like a living room. They stopped just outside the entrance. “Mr. Burns—”

  “Red,” he corrected with a smile.

  Vanessa nodded slightly. “Red, your neighbor Jack has been kind enough to build this room for us. It’s a place where our volunteers and their families congregate. I think you’ll enjoy it because a lot of our volunteers are near your age. They play cards, watch TV, and generally try to stay out of trouble.”

  Gramps’s charming smile slid off, and he focused on Harper. “What’s going on?”

  She shrugged as if this were all perfectly normal. “Jack just thought you might like to meet some people.”

  Before Gramps could argue, Jack appeared in the doorway. “Red. So glad you’re here.”

  Gramps’s suspicious expression didn’t fall away entirely, but it did slip a little. “You again.”

  “I’m everywhere.”

  Gramps peered from Harper to Jack and back as if he were trying to solve a riddle.

  “Come on in,” Jack said. “I want to introduce you to my friends.”

  “Well, all right.” His frown stayed in place. “If you really want to.”

  Harper started to follow, but Vanessa stopped her with a hand on her arm. “You give me your cell phone number, and we will call you if there’s a problem. They’ll keep him entertained until you get back.”

 

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