Tuesday's Child BK 1

by Dale Mayer

  Having never known anyone living permanently or temporarily in a place like this, she found herself wondering at the circumstances that would leave them here. Did these people not have family, or were they alone like she was?

  Were they happy here? Or did they pine away, always wishing for a better life? Living alone for so long, a place like this could seem like a prison. Surely, some of these people had families to live with?

  Laughter drifted toward her. Curious, Sam followed the sound. Glancing back, she saw the reception desk remained empty.

  The hallway opened up into another large sitting area with many tables surrounded by people. Some played cards, others were engrossed in chess, and still others were petting several dogs. Animals. Now that was a nice touch. Sam smiled at a particularly large feline that strolled regally between several legs, her leash getting caught up – to everyone's enjoyment.

  Sam looked around for someone in charge. Everyone appeared to be in the same age category – old. There was one younger man with a bassett hound on a leash. The dog appeared comfortable, sprawled in place and showing no interest in being dragged across the room. Sam smiled. The dog was gorgeous. Evidently, several of the residents thought so too. Several bent to pat the dog's long ears and rotund belly.

  No one appeared bothered by Sam's presence. In fact, no one even seemed to notice her. She continued past the group and headed down a quieter corridor where there were several more doors.

  One opened, and a small woman with a nametag on her shirt walked out. Finally. Sam stopped. "Excuse me. Do you know where I can find either Sarah or Nancy?" Belatedly, Sam read the nametag.

  "I'm Nancy. Sarah has gone home for the day. How can I help you?"

  "I'm here from the vet hospital in Parksville to pick up an injured cat."

  "Oh my goodness. You've been walking around here looking for me, haven't you? I'm so sorry."

  Sam smiled at her. "No problem. How is the...?" Her voice trickled to a stop as a large man stepped out of the room behind Nancy. "Brandt?" She blushed and quickly corrected herself. "Detective Sutherland, I mean. What are you doing here?"

  Nancy jumped in. "Oh, do you two know each other? That's wonderful. Why don't you stay here for a moment while I try to locate the poor cat?" With a bright smile the cheerful woman hastened down the way Sam had come.

  "No, I'll come..." But Nancy was already gone.

  "Too late. Nancy can move very quickly when she wants to."

  "Brandt, who are you talking to?" A spry lady with bottle-blue hair came to the door. "Oh." She smiled, a little too brightly. "How nice. Brandt, invite your friend inside." She turned to Sam. "Hi, I'm Maisy and Brandt is my son."

  Sam smiled weakly. "Hi." Of course, this was Brandt's mother.

  "Come in, child."

  Sam found herself manoeuvred into the small suite where several curious seniors instantly surrounded her. Behind her, she could hear Maisy whispering loudly to Brandt.

  "Now I know why the others wouldn't do. All you had to do was tell me about her. This is wonderful." Maisy beamed.

  Sam closed her eyes. Uh, oh.

  "Mom, don't start with me."

  "Of course not. I'm too happy to argue with you." She bustled over to regard Sam like a unique species under a microscope. "Move everyone, give the child some space." She snagged Sam's arm and led her to the couch. "My goodness there's not much to you, is there?"

  "There's enough. I'm actually quite healthy." Sam tried to defend herself while allowing Maisy to shove her gently onto a flowery couch that probably had many stories to tell. For all the gentleness behind this woman's gestures, Sam sensed a steel core. She might be Brandt's mother, but Sam doubted she had let him get away with much.

  A warm cup of tea was placed in her hand, followed by a small plate heaped high with cookies.

  "Oh, no. The tea is just fine, thank you."

  "Nonsense. You need to eat more."

  A polite way of saying she was too skinny.

  Another silver-blue head popped around the corner. "So your son is here, is he? Now you're going to get it, Maisy."

  "Nonsense. He can solve this." This came from one of the people that had been in the small room the whole time.

  Brandt interrupted. "Let's return to why I'm here. Mom, what are you up to now?"

  She rose with a gentle smile on her face. "Surely, they didn't call you over this little bit of fun we're having, did they?"

  Multiple voices chimed in with their take on the situation.

  "Mom, this is the third time this month. What's gotten into you?"

  "Why nothing. Besides, this isn't my fault. This time it's your fault."

  Brandt shook his head, clearly confused.

  Sam couldn't believe it. She watched in bemusement, drinking her tea, as fifteen elderly people in the room crowded around Brandt, all of them talking at once.

  "Okay, one at a time. Come on everyone, calm down. Jackson, you take it easy – I don't want you having a heart attack again. Colonel, good to see you. Do you know what Maisy is up to this time?"

  The colonel laughed a deep Santa laugh that charmed Sam. "Of course. She's acting as a bookie again."

  "Mom?" Brandt spun around to see his mother calmly counting a column of figures. "What are you doing?"

  "Nothing much. Just taking bets on Joshua's love life." She snickered. "Or lack of it."

  Several giggles and guffaws filled the room.

  "Joshua?"

  "Yeah, the sour puss that runs this place. He has a new girlfriend, so we're betting on how long before it all goes south. Personally, I don't see it making it to the end of the month."

  More laughter as several other people boasted what time they'd bet on.

  Brandt groaned. As always, his mother had fired up her social circle. Brandt just stood, his mouth working, only no words came out.

  Sam giggled.

  Everyone spun to stare at her. Maisy hopped to her feet and walked around her son. A delighted smile lit up her face. "Oh my, child, that sounded a little rusty."

  Sam's eyes widened at that comment. She knew she didn't laugh, but surely calling it rusty was a little extreme.

  "Brandt, I like her. Except she's all skin and bones." She turned to Sam. "Surely, you're not one of those hung up on all those fad diets are you?" Disapproval swept the room.

  "No, ma'am. I'm not dieting." Fat chance. Sam thought of the belt she'd had to notch tighter this morning. She was losing weight quicker than she could eat.

  "You're all eyes too. Life has been hard on you, hasn't it?" Maisy didn't wait for an answer, which was a relief as Sam had no idea how to answer. Maisy grabbed her arm, tugging the sweater up her arm. "Dearie, you're positively skinny." The blue veins pulsed along the top of Sam's arm. Hurriedly, Sam pulled the oversized sweater down to cover the top of her hand.

  Maisy patted her hand before releasing it. "It's okay child. We're not criticizing you. We're all friends here." She smiled up at her son. "Brandt, tell me about this beautiful waif in your life."

  All eyes turned to Brandt. Sam's were wide with horror.

  Brandt found his voice, just not the volume control. He bellowed, "Mom, stop."

  Maisy stared at him, affronted. "Now you listen to me, young man, I haven't even begun."

  Grimly, Brandt glared down at her. "You can stop right now. This is a semi-official call because once again you are creating a disturbance. Do you want to be evicted from this place? Go somewhere else where you won't have all your friends? This has to stop."

  "Harumph."

  "Don't give me that. I've told you before, no more betting. Taking a simple wager between two people is one thing, Mom. Setting up a betting book on something like the administrator's love life is going too far – again." Brandt was adamant.

  Sam sat bemused as chaos erupted around her. It went on for at least ten minutes before Brandt managed to calm down the outrage.

  Watching him, Sam realized that several of the elderly people were staring
at her openly. She probably wasn't the norm for Brandt's women.

  Her lips quirked in a tentative smile at several of them.

  They all smiled big fat grins back at her.

  "What's your name, dear?"

  Turning to look at Maisy, Sam replied, "My name is Samantha."

  "That's a beautiful name." Maisy beamed at her, apparently having no trouble ignoring her son glaring down at the two of them.

  Sam wasn't having the same success. Her glance darted between Brandt and Maisy.

  "Mom, are you going to behave? Or must I arrange for you to go back to your apartment?"

  "Should I ask Samantha if you're behaving?" Maisy asked archly, to the amusement of the audience. She stared innocently up at her towering son. The twinkle in her eye couldn't be missed.

  The colonel interrupted. "How about we change the subject? When are you guys going to catch that killer? I heard about them finding that poor woman the other day."

  That started the seniors all over again. Brandt threw up one hand in a classic stop gesture. "Silence!"

  As Sam watched, Brandt's gaze slid over the seniors, his mother, and finally rested on Sam. He frowned. The room quieted, except Sam didn't think he'd intimidated anyone but her. Maisy's cronies were obviously used to him. They treated him like one of their own. Maisy looked like hell on wheels, for stirring things up.

  "I don't know what case you're talking about. We're after several killers. You know I can't talk about any specifics. But the police are following up several leads. We're doing everything we can. So if you know anything that can help us – great. Otherwise, let us do our job." He sent a cutting look to his oblivious mother. "And don't set up a pool on it."

  "Well, if we do, we'll bet on you. See? We know you'll solve these cases." His mother beamed up at him.

  Brandt shook his head. "Is it safe to leave, Mom? Do you think you can behave for a while?"

  "Of course she can." Several of the seniors glared at him.

  Brandt rolled his eyes. "Sam, let's go."

  Sam hopped up, but had to tug her hand free from Maisy's clasp. "I have to find Nancy and the cat."

  "We'll stop at her office on the way out."

  Maisy rose and wedged herself between the pair. "Sam, please come for lunch next week. Brandt, when can you bring her?"

  "Oh no, I couldn't do that." Sam shook her head.

  "Why not?"

  Sam didn't know how to answer. She slid a sideways glance at Brandt. Their eyes met. She shrugged, not knowing how to answer the question.

  "Mom, Sam and I will discuss it, and I'll get back to you." He tugged Sam further away from his mother. "Now, we're leaving."

  "Not without a kiss. Official visit or not, I'm still your mother."

  Brandt obediently bent to give his mother a quick peck on the cheek before snagging Sam's arm and pulling her down the hallway.

  Sam felt the dozens of eyes following their progress out the door.

  "What was that?" Sam glanced behind, sure she was being watched.

  A line of curious faces watched every step they took. Maisy stood in the doorway, a satisfied smile on her face.

  "The other side of my life," he muttered.

  Sam easily read the adoration for his mother in his eyes. Her heart warmed. A guy who loved his mom had a lot going for him. "Uh, oh. Has she got the wrong impression?" Sam shook her head. "I don't know what just happened. I came to pick up an injured cat."

  "What happened? My mother happened," he said wryly. "She's a force to be reckoned with."

  Sam motioned behind her with her hand. "Is she always like that?"

  "Yes. Unfortunately."

  "She's lovely. You're very lucky." Sam couldn't help but wish she had someone so lively and bright in her world.

  She felt, more than saw Brandt's eyes upon her. She refused to face him. Thankfully, they'd arrived at Nancy's office, so she didn't have to.

  Just then, an overly large box appeared, hiding the skinny man carrying it.

  "Thanks, Jeremy. Brandt, can you carry the cat out to the lady's car?"

  "No problem. We're both leaving."

  "Thank you, Nancy. The hospital will fix this guy right up."

  Sam tried to peek under a corner flap of the box. An unholy howl erupted, warning against going any further. She grimaced. "I'll definitely be leaving him in the box." She smiled at the other woman. "Thanks again."

  Sam held the door as Brandt carried the box outside. Sam rushed to unlock the passenger side of her truck.

  Brandt gently laid the box inside on the seat. It was a tight fit, which would help stop it from sliding around.

  "There you go." He straightened and studied her. "Sorry about my mother."

  What could she say? "I thought she was sweet. Thank you for carrying the cat." She unlocked the driver's door and got in, anxious to avoid awkward good-byes. "See you around." She cranked the engine and backed out of her spot. After turning the vehicle around she was ready to head onto the highway but Sam was forced to hit the brakes.

  Brandt stood in front of the truck, stopping her from going anywhere.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  11:50 am

  Puzzled, she lowered her window. "What's the matter?"

  He grinned. "You ran away so fast that I didn't have chance to ask you about Stefan." He held out his hands, palms up. "If you have time, I thought we could go see him later today. What's your schedule like?"

  Sam stared at him in shock, as excited jellybeans jumped in her stomach. "I can't right at the moment. I have to get the cat to the hospital for treatment."

  "And I understand that. Stefan is only about fifteen minutes from here so we can go later. But if today doesn't work, we can plan it for another day."

  "Really." This would be a godsend. She needed to talk to someone who would understand. "What about Stefan? Don't you need to check with him?"

  "I spoke to him earlier. He suggested we come mid to late afternoon. I was going to call and ask you what would be convenient, then you showed up here."

  She didn't want to lose this opportunity by putting it off. Who knew when this chance would arise again? "This afternoon would be great. Where do you want to meet? Here? Or at his house?"

  "No, it would be easier if I come to Parksville. How about we meet around three at the vet's office, then we'll go in my truck."

  "That would be great." Sam beamed. "I'll see you then."

  "Bye."

  Brandt waved as she drove past. Sam was grinning so hard, she almost didn't see it. She honked the horn once and drove off. The trip home went fast.

  It was a good thing as her thoughts were in turmoil. She had a million questions to ask Stefan and didn't know where to start. Then there was the prospect of spending the afternoon in Brandt's company.

  Thoughts and ideas popped and submerged, yet more mixed and brewed. She wasn't the same person she'd been a month ago or even a week ago. What had changed exactly, she couldn't say. Only that she didn't wear her skin the same. Looser, maybe – and not from losing weight. Maybe it was just a better cut, more suited for who she really was.

  Strange ramblings from a troubled soul.

  Sam sighed. Glimpses of who she was and what she was doing with her life flitted in and out like a hummingbird. Enough to see the color and glow. Not enough to grasp the meaning or details.

  A black pickup pulled in behind her. Too close for comfort, but not quite tailgating.

  Sam peered into her rear-view mirror, wondering if Brandt had followed her. The truck might be his. She couldn't quite see the driver's face through the tinted windshield. Did Brandt's truck have gradient tinting like that? She couldn't remember. Still, she'd have recognized him behind the wheel, and this wasn't him.

  The truck moved closer.

  Definitely, tailgating.

  The big truck dwarfed her Nissan. She knew nothing about vehicles and this one gleamed in the late sunlight with enough chrome trim to blind anyone. The pair of ram horns on the front
identified it as a Dodge. A wave of relief hit when she was able to identify that little bit.

  Then the truck came so close she thought it would hit her. Sam's heart shot into her throat, and her stomach heaved. She tried to pull over and let him pass, but he slowed down behind her. When she was almost stopped, he drove forward and deliberately bumped her.

  "Shit." Sam hit the gas hard, pulling onto the road. She searched her pocket for her cell phone. She punched in Bandt’s number. Sam switched her gaze from the road to her rear-view mirror.