“Julie! Was your nose itching? I was just thinking about you.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“Pooh. Don’t stand there; come in. Would you like a cup of tea? I just made a fresh pot.”
My mouth opened to refuse. But would it kill me to stick around for more than two minutes? No. I wasn’t in a big hurry to go outside into the cold and snow anyway. “That’d be great.”
“Sit.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Be witty and entertaining because Lord knows 67
I’ve been bored out of my skull lately.”
Everything in her kitchen was proportioned for her wheelchair. She took two dainty gold-rimmed teacups from a drawer and placed them on matching saucers. Then she lifted a crocheted tea cozy from the teapot and poured the steaming liquid into the cups.
“Carry those to the table and I’ll rustle up some cookies.”
While she fussed, I peeked in the sugar bowl. Yep. Sugar cubes. I snatched one with the fancy small silver tongs and thought of Martinez. He loved the damn things.
Reva rolled up to the side of the table without a chair and slid a plate of Walkers butter cookies in the center. “There. So tell me, Miss PI, what brings you here on such a nasty day?”
I sipped my tea, hoping the sugar would mask the flowery taste. “I had an appointment with Luella. But right after I got here she had to deal with …” Hell. I didn’t know if Reva had heard about the dead guy yet.
“Walter Jumps High’s bloated body.”
“You knew about him?”
“I was making my morning rounds when that redheaded punk puked in the hallway.” She blew on her tea. “I wasn’t surprised. Walter was severely diabetic, severely overweight, and had heart attack written all over him. Not that he did anything to change his bad habits, so no one wanted anything to do with him. Like those of us who don’t have family, he mostly kept 68
to himself.”
That was a little unsympathetic. Because he was Indian?
“Besides, this is an old folks’ home. Someone is always found dead. It’ll be old news by noon.”
“Well, it was a shock to me first thing, especially when Luella was the first one called. Shouldn’t that responsibility fall to a nurse or someone qualified?”
“Usually it does, so I think they’re short-staffed today. Used to be one of the nurses from Acute Care would do rounds with Security. Now those minimumwage idiots do the checks. If they feel like it. I told you what happened to my friend.” Reva chomped on a cookie. “Why were you going in room 208?”
Talk about an eagle eye. “I thought I was discreet.”
“Don’t worry, no one else noticed. But I was surprised to see you going into Vernon Sloane’s room.”
“Do you know him?”
“Not really. Like Walter, he kept to himself until Luella took over. She acts like him playing chess with other residents will cure his decline into dementia. It’s surprising he’s still allowed to live by himself, especially since all he ever talks about is his stupid car when he does deign to leave his room.”
“I kinda got that.”
“Did his family hire you?”
“Why?”
“That’s the thing. I didn’t know he had family since I’ve never seen him with anyone.”
69
A weird tingle danced up my spine. “Maybe they prefer to meet privately.”
She shook her head. “Trust me, anyone who has family visit makes sure everyone in here knows they have family, because so many of us don’t.”
“You’ve never met his granddaughter?”
“Nope. What’s she look like?”
“Young. Blond. Really pretty.”
“I would’ve remembered her. Did you ask him about her?”
I nodded. “He didn’t know her at all.”
“Shame. If I had grandkids, you can bet I’d be parading them up and down the hallways in a dogand-pony show.”
“You don’t have kids?”
“Nope. My husband and I weren’t particularly upset by it at the time. Kinda lonely now.”
I reached for a cookie and saw Reva squinting at my chest. “What?”
“That’s quite the necklace. Lovely color. Matches your eyes. Did you get that from your sweetie pie?”
Calling Martinez my sweetie pie? Right. My fingers automatically twisted in the thick silver chain. “Yeah.”
“What is that? A sapphire?”
“A star sapphire.” I’d had to look it up online since I’d never seen a stone like it.
She leaned forward and whistled. “That is one big stone. What is it, about fifteen karats?”
“Twenty, I guess.”
70
“He must really like you, sweets. Is there a story behind why he gave it to you?”
I squirmed because I didn’t know.
A few weeks ago, a white box with a big blue satin bow had shown up on the coffee table in my living room. No card. I’d opened the package to find the gorgeous necklace nestled in midnight velvet. Later, Martinez called to ask if I liked my birthday present. That’d been the extent of it. I reacted as coolly as he had, because I’d never had a man give me jewelry. Afterward I suspected Martinez had as much experience giving it as I had receiving it so I’d been leery of asking questions.
“Julie?”
“It was a birthday gift from my boyfriend.”
“My late husband was romantic to the core. You’d never know it by looking at him, a big, rough, dirty Wyoming oil rigger.” Her blue eyes were soft, her smile wistful. “He’s been gone ten years and I miss that sweet, gruff man every damn day.”
I didn’t do well with tears. “The librarian and the roughneck? Sounds like the makings of a fine romance novel, Reva.”
A sly wink. “More like an erotic romance novel.”
I lifted my teacup. “Here’s to men who are a little rough around the edges and the edgy, rough sex.”
“Amen.” She chinked her cup against mine.
“Thanks for the tea party. Next time, maybe we should toast with something stronger. Like this.” I set 71
the bottle of Jack Daniels next to the cookies. “Thanks for your help. Don’t drink it all before I come back, okay?”
Reva’s mouth opened and closed. Tears shimmered in her eyes.
Ah, hell, I hadn’t meant to fluster her. Dammit. Apparently I sucked at the gift-giving thing as much as my sweetie pie did. “Consider it a bribe. I’ll be around to pick your brain some more.”
“You’re really planning to come back?”
I said, “Yes,” and meant it.
She watched me closely as I wrapped up in my winter gear. “Be careful out there, Miss PI.”
“I will. You be good. And if you can’t, have fun being bad, spy girl.”
Guilt made me search out Luella before I escaped. As I neared the employee break room, I heard male laughter.
“You’re a fuckin’ pussy, Damon, blowing chunks in the hallway.”
“Yeah? Well, it was fuckin’ gross. Seeing that fat gut-eater in a pile of his own shit and piss. Smelled like bad Indian tacos in there.”
“So? I wouldna puked.”
72
“Bullshit. You think you’re so fuckin’ tough, Ricky.”
“No, I’da been happy to find spooky fucker dead. He freaked me out.”
“Why? Think he’d do some Indian voodoo shit to you? Make you wear feathers in your hair? Do the Sun Dance and pierce your man titties? Force you to call him chief and smoke the peace pipe?”
“Fuck you. I ain’t afraid of no fuckin’ red-skinned hoop. Weirdo never looked me in the eye. Just mumbled and shuffled his moccasins if I asked him something. Always stunk like booze and that stupid incense shit he burned in his room, too. I’m just fuckin’
glad he’s gone to the happy hunting grounds.”
They both laughed. “Another one bites the dust.”
A slap of hands in a high five. “Maybe we’ll get someone in
there now who isn’t a fat fuckin’ welfare case and they’ll tip us for all the shit we do.”
I made myself visible in the doorway. I hoped I looked as pissed off as I felt. “Good acoustics in the hallway. Which means I just heard every disrespectful, stupid, racist piece of garbage that fell out of your big, stupid mouths.”
Surprise, followed by defiant looks.
“What in the hell is the matter with you two? It’s not enough a man is dead? You have to rip him and his heritage to shreds? In public? Why? To make yourselves look like big men rather than whiny-assed babies?”
“Who the fuck are you?”
73
“Someone who will go out of her way to make
sure your boss knows every inappropriate word you’ve spewed and how unprofessional you’ve acted.”
Another round of laughter. “Right. Like anyone cares what we said about another dead fuckin’ Indian.”
“You think you’re above him? You’re a janitor, smartass. That man paid your goddamn salary and he deserved your respect, not your scorn.”
“Ooh, Damon, looky here. We got a prairie nigger lover who’s gonna rat us out. We’re shakin’ in our boots. You ain’t got no power over us, so get the fuck out of here.”
“She doesn’t have power over you, but I do.”
I turned and their gazes snapped to Luella.
Absolute silence.
The red-haired kid actually looked mortified. The other young man, a runt with long, greasy hair that didn’t mask the zits covering his face, still appeared defiant.
“You ain’t got no power over us”—he sneered—
“and you know you can’t fire us ’cause you’d be fucked. No one wants this shitty job anyway.”
Another awkward moment.
“Besides, everyone knows you hoops stick together, no matter what, so ain’t no one gonna believe what you say.”
“Break is over. Get out of my sight or I’ll scalp you, eh?”
Hiking boots hit the linoleum floor and Mr. Big 74
Mouth and his companion strode out.
Luella didn’t look at me. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. Not exactly the family image we want to project to potential customers, is it?”
“Unfortunately, it’s typical of just about everyone’s attitudes around these parts, not just here.” It’d probably rile me worse, but I had to ask. “Do you get that attitude a lot? Since you’re Indian?”
“The mind-set that the only reason an Indian woman has attained a job at this level is because of racial profiling?”
“That, too. But I’m wondering about the attitudes of residents you’re caring for?”
“Shee. Some residents doan want me in dere apartments because dey tink I’m gonna steal from dem, hey. Dey tink ’cause I’m Sioux dat I doan got no education and de only ting I know ’bout business is how to apply for subsidies, hey.” Her sorrowful brown eyes finally met mine. “Yes. I hear that quite frequently. It never gets any easier hearing that garbage.”
“People suck. And it really sucks you get that from co-workers.”
“They don’t care. Kids these days don’t respect anybody. But thanks for calling them on their comments. Most folks would’ve walked away.”
“I’m a rebel with a conscience, not an agenda.”
Well, except for the one involving Vernon Sloane. Luella cocked her head. “I see that, and I’ll admit I’m confused by it because you don’t look Indian.”
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“I’m not. My half brother from White Plain was. I watched him struggle with stereotypes his whole life and I hated it.” I slumped against the wall. “He’s dead and I still hate it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” I signed and buttoned up my coat.
“Sorry if you’ve gone to trouble, Luella, but I’m not in the mood for a tour right now.”
“That’s fine. I understand completely, Kate. I just hope you haven’t written Prairie Gardens off completely.”
“I haven’t. We’ll be in touch.”
“Be careful out there.”
I fled into the snowstorm.
76
My windshield wipers worked overtime as I crept through town. Because of the extreme cold, it wasn’t a heavy, wet snow comprised of big, lacy snowflakes. The white stuff was a fine dust, the consistency between talcum powder and sugar crystals. When the 40-mph wind caught those icy crystals, it wasn’t like being in a pretty snow globe; it was like being in the middle of a sandstorm.
The mucky gray sky gave no hint to the time of day and I’d lost track. I glanced at the clock. Noon. Damn day wasn’t even half over. I just wanted to go home and hunker down until the storm passed. The parking lot of Safeway on Mt. Rushmore
Road was jam-packed as locals prepared for the worst. Maybe the forecasters were right for a change, and we were in for a big blizzard. I shivered and the urge to 77
book it home tripled. But being a responsible partner, I dialed the office to make my report.
Kevin answered on the second ring.
I said, “I’m done at Prairie Gardens.”
His sticky silence competed with the static from my cell phone.
“Kevin? You still there?”
“Yeah. Look. About what you saw yesterday—”
“Save it.” I craved a goddamn cigarette. But I couldn’t smoke, talk on the phone, and drive in a snowstorm all at the same time. “Is there any way you can get Amery to come in, in the next hour? As far as I’m concerned, this case is done.”
“That won’t be a problem. She’s … ah, already here. We were having lunch.”
I so did not need the mental picture of what Kevin meant by having lunch.
“Good. I’ll be there in ten. Bye.”
“Julie, wait.”
“What?”
“Be nice when you get here.”
“Why the fuck would I wanna do that?”
“Because I’m asking you to, all right?”
“Whatever.” I hung up.
People parked like idiots downtown the second they saw white fluff. The leased lot was closed. There wasn’t an open spot within two blocks of the office. By the time I’d hoofed it upstairs, nearly twenty minutes had passed. I unwrapped my scarf, peeled off my 78
gloves, unbuttoned my coat, and jammed a lit cigarette between my lips before I’d made it into the haven of my office.
I slammed the door, needing a minute to find my
“nice” persona. I’d probably left it in my bottom desk drawer next to my spare box of rainbows and butterflies. Give me a fucking break.
By the time I’d finished Marlboro #2, I’d shed some of my abominable snowman attitude.
Kevin knocked. “Can we come in now?”
“Yeah.”
He opened the door for Amery and pointed to the buffalo skin chair to the left of my desk. How sweet. Amery looked to Kevin before she spoke to me. He gave her an encouraging smile. How nauseating.
“Kevin said you were just at the retirement center. Did you find out anything else?”
“Yes. But I’m not sure it’s what you want to hear, Amery.”
Another panicked doe-eyed look at Kevin. “I don’t understand.”
“How much time have you spent with your grandfather recently?”
“Not much. I told you—”
“That he has Alzheimer’s, yeah, I know. I had no idea how bad it was until I talked to him this morning.”
She blinked those big blue eyes. “You talked to him? What did he say?”
“Nothing but gibberish. He thought I was your 79
mother. Then he told me he’d hidden her away because
‘they’ were trying to kill her, and he begged me not to tell ‘them’—whatever the hell that meant. He babbled about paying more money to keep her safe, trying to find his car, and by the time I left, he was ready for a straightjacket.”
Amery gasped softly.
“Julie, that’s enough,” Kevin warne
d.
I ignored him. “So here’s what I think. All this polite bullshit aside. You’re damn lucky Luella is taking care of him. At least someone is. Whatever she’s getting paid is not nearly enough. With what I saw today, and what you’ve told me, I think the best thing you could do for him is move him to the acute care wing.”
“But that’s not—”
“—what you wanted to hear?”
“No. That’s not why I hired you. You’re supposed to be finding out who is taking advantage of him.”
I lit another cigarette. “No, Amery, you hired us because you were concerned about your grandfather’s well-being. And I’m telling you that your original concerns were legitimate. But the only way to make sure he’s not taken advantage of again—financially or emotionally—is to have him moved to a unit where qualified staff can keep an eye on him at all times.” I filled my lungs with smoke. Exhaled. My cynical side counted on her outbreak of tears; my other cynical side hungered for her show of temper.
Amery took a deep breath. “All polite bullshit 80
aside, Ms. Collins, I thought you were a professional investigator. You suggesting that I lock him away, when we all know there are illegal activities going on in that facility, is a cop-out.”
“No more of a cop-out than you ignoring him
and getting all pissy when someone else starts paying attention to him.”
“Julie—” Kevin tried to intervene.
“No. Let her finish, Kevin.”
I didn’t glance over at him because I didn’t know if I could stomach the look on his face. “I talked to other residents, Amery. I know you don’t visit him as often as you say you do.”
Her chin drooped to her chest.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
She shook her head. “It’s true I don’t visit him in the common room. If you saw how confused he was today, then you can imagine what he’s like when he sees me.” She slowly lifted her face to meet my eyes.
“Did you ask him about me?”
I nodded.
“He didn’t know who I was, did he?”
“No.”
“That’s because he thinks I’m my mother. I look just like her. Sometimes he even thinks I’m my grandmother. I suspect part of him knows they’re both dead, and that’s why he gets so flustered when he sees me. Yes, he has reality issues, some idea that my mother was kidnapped. Sometimes he claims a man took her; 81
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