Nearly Departed

by Max Patrick Schlienger

Chapter Thirteen

  The sun was high and hot as Dennis and Bobo approached Elspeth’s house. It seemed remarkably out of keeping with both the purpose for their visit and the season in general, especially for a winter day in Northern California. If he did wind up writing about this, Dennis thought to himself, he’d have to change things so that their final overture took place at night.

  Bobo bounded out of the car before Dennis had shut off the motor, and called back from the doorstep. “It’s open!”

  “Great!” Dennis shouted back. “Now we won’t have to break in!” He stepped out of the car and followed the short pathway up to the door, where Bobo was waiting with a mocking grin.

  “Careful about the sorts of things you yell, September.” He looked around with exaggerated worry. “You might get the neighborhood watch after us.”

  “Get inside, will you?” said Dennis, shoving the bigger man’s arm. Bobo opened the door with a laugh, and led the way through. The house looked no different than it had earlier in the day, although it felt strangely empty knowing that Elspeth wasn’t there. The thought that he was technically committing burglary crossed Dennis’ mind, but by that point it was too late to foster any indecision.

  “Okay,” Dennis said, squaring his shoulders. “You head to the kitchen and look for the key. I’m going to find my phone and call Sam. We’ll talk to Evy, wrap everything up, and be back at the hospital in no time.”

  “Right, boss,” answered Bobo with a nod. “In a drawer in the kitchen, yeah?”

  “I just said that.”

  “And I was just checking.”

  Dennis waved a hand, and the sound of Bobo’s chuckling echoed through the house as the pair parted ways. Again, it occurred to Dennis that they both should have been more tense, but their mood was almost lighthearted. He entered the den slowly, taking careful measure of the room. Unlike the rest of the house, it had been thrown into a state of disarray by the paramedics that had responded to Dennis’ call. The table had been shoved against a far wall, but the envelope – presumably with a cellular phone hidden beneath it – was still waiting patiently for Dennis to pick it up.

  Sure enough, Dennis spotted a rectangle of silvery plastic as he pushed the aged paper aside. The screen was illuminated, showing that he had one missed call and a voicemail waiting for him. He ignored the former, tapping in the code to access his mailbox. A mechanical voice told him what he already knew, that he had a message waiting for him, and he nodded impatiently in time to the announcement. When the electronic routine was finally over, Dennis felt his chest go tight.

  “Hey, Dennis,” came Alena’s voice. There was a drawn-out sigh. “Listen... I really want to talk about what happened last night. I’m not saying that I’m at all okay with any of it, but I should have let you explain things.” A long pause came next. “I’m going to go in and check on Antonio, so I’ll be out. Call me if you want to talk.” There was a rustling noise, and the message ended.

  The tightness in Dennis’ chest relented somewhat, although he wasn’t sure how he should feel. Alena sounded willing to listen, at least. Whether that would lead to understanding and forgiveness remained to be seen. Dennis’ lips pressed together tightly as he stared down at the phone, its display having darkened after the message ended. Should he call back right away? No, probably not. Alena was on her way to visit Antonio, as she had said, and disturbing her would be a mistake. Besides, Dennis wanted to be free and clear of this situation with Evy before he tried to explain it. He wondered how Bobo was faring in his search for the key, and decided to get on with the task he had assigned himself. He dialed Harding’s number, and the receptionist answered before the line had scarcely had a chance to ring.

  “Doctor Harding’s office.”

  “Hi, it’s Dennis.” He could hear the girl chewing gum again. “Will you get Sam for me, please?”

  “Doctor Harding is on his lunch break for the next hour,” came the bored reply. “You can call back later.”

  “Can you wake him up?” asked Dennis. “It’s urgent.”

  “He really doesn’t like to be disturbed.”

  Dennis closed his eyes in weary frustration. “Look, tell him that it’s about the woman with the haunted chair.” That should prompt some interest, Dennis thought. “She’s in the hospital, and I might not have much time.” He hoped that the last part was a lie.

  “Uh. Just a sec.” There was an audible pop over the line, and Dennis worried that he had been disconnected. He probably did sound like one of Harding’s more deranged patients, he supposed, but his fears were cast aside when he heard the noise again, and Harding’s voice answered.

  “Dennis?” the man asked. “Is everything okay?”

  “That’s what I’m calling to find out,” replied Dennis. “I have kind of a strange question for you.”

  “Just a moment, I’ll call you back from my cell phone.” This time, the line really did disconnect. A moment passed as Dennis waited for his own phone to ring, and he answered it immediately when it did. “I’m sorry about that, Dennis,” Harding said. “I didn’t want my secretary listening in.”

  “She does that?”

  “I just felt it would be best to act cautiously.” Harding cleared his throat. “Now, your client is in the hospital? What happened?”

  “I don’t really know,” confessed Dennis. “I was explaining something that I’d found out about her father, and she collapsed in a coughing fit.” He tensed slightly. “Do you think I could have caused it? By telling her, I mean?”

  “No, almost certainly not,” replied Harding. The reassurance went a long way towards calming Dennis’ nerves. “While we’re undoubtedly affected by our emotions, I’ve never heard of anything quite so extreme.” He paused briefly. “Unless you think she was having a panic attack of some sort? Does she strike you as prone to that kind of thing?”

  “I... I don’t think so.” Dennis thought about the strength and confidence that Elspeth exuded. “No, she’s not like that.” He realized that he was pacing around the room, but didn’t stop. “So, would it be safe for me to talk to her about it again?”

  “I couldn’t say, Dennis. What do you have left to tell her? Furthermore, what did you say to her already that might have prompted such a reaction?”

  “You said that I didn’t do it!” Dennis exclaimed, and Harding quickly made soothing noises in response.

  “Calm down, calm down.” The sound of a page turning came across the line. Dennis pictured Harding taking notes, as though he were treating one of his patients. The image was disconcerting, but he had bigger things to worry about. “Listen, Dennis,” Harding continued, “I can’t say anything with complete certainty until you tell me what happened.”

  As always seemed to be the case lately, Dennis needed to carefully censor a few details, lest he sound even more unhinged. “Elspeth always thought that her father was an artist. It turns out that he was a confidence man, and that he entrusted his daughter – Evy, not Elspeth – with a key to a safety deposit box. She was supposed to hide it until her father and his partner resolved an argument about something, but she died before that happened.” Harding said nothing, which Dennis took as a prompt to continue. “Anyway, now Elspeth is in the hospital, and I’m back at the house looking for that key.” Harding’s silence continued. “Well?” Dennis blurted.

  “Dennis,” the psychiatrist replied, his voice fearful, “are you, by chance, talking about Evelyn and Elspeth Palin?”

  “Of course I am! Who else would I be talking about?”

  There was another moment of tense silence before Harding spoke again. “Dennis, are you safe? Where are you?”

  “I’m at the house, Sam. Elspeth’s house. I said that already.” His grip tightened on the phone. “What’s going on?”

  The blood rushed from Dennis’ face as his friend answered. “I didn’t make the connection before. I didn’t see how you could have possibly been involved.” Harding took a shallow breath and swallowed. “Emma Palin
was a patient of mine, Dennis, up until shortly before she died. She had never gotten over the death of her eldest daughter, who was named Evelyn.”

  “Elspeth’s mother?” Dennis asked. A flash of anger rose through his surprise. “You knew?”

  “Dennis, please, listen to me! I swear, I had no idea it had anything to do with you!”

  “What had nothing to do with me? Sam, what’s going on?”

  “It was Spinner,” answered Harding. Dennis felt his knees start to weaken. “The retired detective. He accused me of perpetuating Emma’s delusions in order to extend my time with her.” The sound of Harding’s throat being cleared reminded Dennis to breathe, and he inhaled sharply before he passed out. “Spinner was a friend of the family,” Harding continued. “I was never clear on the actual relationship, but I do know that he referred to Emma’s daughter as his niece.”

  The pieces fell together in a sickening, chilling cascade. “He was the partner,” Dennis whispered.

  “Eric Palin’s partner, yes,” Harding confirmed. Dennis realized through a haze of panic that he had never known the paternal Palin’s first name. “It seems probable.”

  “How could you not have known?” Dennis clutched the phone as though he were grabbing at Harding himself. “I told you about Elspeth! How could you not have known?!”

  “It was eight years ago, Dennis!” Harding’s voice sounded almost as desperate as Dennis’ own. “If you had told me her name, I might have realized things sooner. Please understand, I never met anyone else in the family; I only dealt with Emma.”

  “What, were you disappointed about losing her business? Did you set me up so that you could have Elspeth as one of your clients?”

  “Patience, Dennis, please.”

  “I don’t give a damn what you call them!”

  “No, I meant...” Harding chuckled nervously. “I was asking for you to be patient, and I’ll explain. I had nothing to do with you meeting Elspeth.”

  “Oh, god,” muttered Dennis, feeling sick. “That’s why Spinner was interested in me. He thinks that I’m trying to help you pull the same thing on Elspeth.”

  Harding started to say something, but hesitated. “I think it might be more complicated than that.” Dennis listened, suppressing the urge to gag. “As I understand it, Eric and Spinner had some personal issues. A disagreement about something. From what you’ve told me, it sounds like it may have been over how to split the profits from a job they had pulled.” Harding’s words grew more rushed. “Spinner must have seen this as an opportunity to tie up loose ends, now that Elspeth is incapacitated. There’s little doubt in my mind that he plans to rob her, and clean out that safety deposit box once he has the key.”

  “What should I do?” Dennis coughed. “Sam, tell me what I should do.”

  “The first thing is to make sure that you’re safe,” replied Harding. “Once you’ve found the key, come over to my office, and we’ll figure out what to do next.”

  “Won’t that just make him want to chase me even more?”

  “No, he’s proven that he’s beyond sanity.” Dennis could easily agree with that. “And with Elspeth in the hospital, we need to think about protecting her, as well.”

  “Yes, right.” Dennis squeezed his eyes shut. “I’ll find the key, get to your office, and... then what?”

  “One step at a time. Let’s get you to safety.”

  “Okay, yeah, that.” Dennis hung up his phone and shoved it into his pocket. He silently repeated Harding’s advice like a mantra: Find the key, get to safety. On shaking legs, he left the den, stumbling around the furniture. Find the key, get to safety. At the back of his mind, beneath the cycling words, he thought about Alena, and wondered if he’d ever get the chance to see her again. He chided himself for being so melodramatic, but the self-criticism was lost under a wave of fear and adrenaline as he stared through the front window of the entry hall, and at the blue sedan that had just pulled up outside.

  Find the key, get to safety.

  Out loud, Dennis whispered, “Too late.”