by Deanna Chase
"Oh, how sad. I'm glad you could fix him." How could she refuse to go get the cat? Her shift wasn't over for at least an hour. Besides, they were doing right by the dog.
"Of course, we'll pay for your time and your gas."
Sam brushed her hand in the air. "It's no problem. I'm almost done here. Give me directions. I'll just wash up and get ready."
"Great. I really appreciate it. We've been so busy that I haven't taken the time to say how much I appreciate your efforts here. Thanks." With a grateful smile, Valerie headed to the office.
Sam stared, bemused, at the flapping doors. It's a good thing she'd left. Sam didn't have any response to give. She couldn't remember the last time she'd received a compliment like that.
It was kind of nice.
11:00 am
It had been a busy morning already. And still Bill wasn't quite done. He shuffled the contents in the bed of his truck. He'd promised to bring the dogs over to the palliative care center. Those patients loved seeing the animals. It was the least he could do for those dying folks. It was either make their last days a little sweeter or knock 'em off early.
He grinned. It would be so easy. Only, it wouldn't mean the same thing for him. It wasn't just getting his rocks off – well that was a huge part of it – but he needed certain things in order to get there. It used to be easy. Now everything had to go exactly right or he couldn't enjoy himself.
Starting with the victim – just anyone wouldn't do. The right victim was everything to him. He was a selection specialist. And he'd made a mistake last time. Not on the girl, but on the method. He'd tested a new drug on her. Bad decision. She'd reacted terribly, slipping into unconsciousness before he could really enjoy her. He'd left – beyond pissed. Now, he'd need a fix again…and soon because of that.
He'd expected to hear about her on the news, but so far nothing. Stupid cops, they'd probably written her off as a suicide. He grinned. That worked for him. Fooling the cops kept things challenging. Over the years he'd even wondered what drove him, but had come to the conclusion that it didn't matter, as he was past the point of stopping. He refused to dwell on it.
He also didn't like the mask thing. The bloody wool itched. He preferred to stay anonymous. Not take any chances. When he'd first started, he hadn't taken the same care. During the first couple of rapes, he'd sweated with the droplets falling onto the women's skin. Early on, he'd tried using alcohol on one woman's skin to remove any sweat or saliva and had quickly discarded that. He'd ended up with a bloody mess. If being uncomfortable was the price then that was fine with him. The gloves also didn't thrill him because he wanted the skin-to-skin contact. Every once in a while, he still succumbed to the temptation, but was always careful to put them on immediately afterwards. Why the hell it mattered at that point, he didn't know, except he'd been doing it that way for so long logic couldn't even begin to win over superstition. What worked, worked and that was all there was to it.
A shrink would have a heyday with him. Yeah, he was paranoid. Still, he was in this for the long haul and didn't plan to screw up anytime soon.
11:10 am
Brandt pulled into the parking lot at the Willow Health Center. He parked at the front and walked inside. The offices were off to the right. He headed there first.
"Hi, Nancy."
The tiny older woman looked up in surprise. Then a big smile broke out. "Detective Sutherland. Thank you so much for coming."
He shook his head. "She's my problem, not yours."
Nancy grinned. "Except that while she's here, she's also our problem."
There was no arguing that logic. "I'll walk down and have a talk with her before she goes for lunch."
"Good. She might be in her room, or she could be over with the animals today. I'll be there in a couple of minutes."
"Oh, right. It's pet day, isn't it?" The center had a well-loved program where family members were allowed to bring pets in to see the various residents for an hour to two. Sometimes, special dogs and cats came in to keep the people company or put on small shows. The older people loved it. It was a highlight for them.
Brandt walked down to his mother's room.
"Mom?" He knocked gently.
"Come in."
Brandt pushed the door open to find several other people in there. A hushed silence descended when they recognized their visitor.
He heaved a sigh. "Yes, the cops have been called. Mom, what the hell are you up to now?"
Maisy ran over to him and gave him a big hug. "It's lovely to see you dear, however, there's no reason to use profanity."
What could he do? She was his mother. He rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around her frail body in a gentle hug.
He grasped her shoulders gently and held her at arm's length. "Mom, we have to have a talk."
11:20 am
"Here it is." Sam slowed, pulled into the long driveway, and parked. There was a familiar truck parked to the right. She frowned. There's no reason it should be Brandt's truck. There had to be hundreds of those here in town. Her pulse jumped, and she couldn't help searching the area for him. She didn't want to see him, not really, yet couldn't hold back the pulsing excitement at the thought of it. Traitorous hormones.
She walked inside. Large and open with multiple comfy couches, the lobby had a friendly atmosphere. Sam could see people feeling welcome here. Bright yellows and moderate oranges blended with the lush palms and overgrown dieffenbachia plants filling each corner.
The front counter stood empty. Sam pursed her lips. There didn't appear to be a bell to ring for service either. Sam frowned. She checked her watch. Surely, it was early for lunch? Not knowing how a place like this worked, Sam found herself choosing between two corridors and took the left one. Various doorways along the hallway were identified by numbers. They appeared to be apartments or self-contained suites of some kind. They didn't look like the hospital rooms she'd assumed they would be.
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 basset 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. "D
etective 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 often, 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.