Taming her giggles she asked, “So, after we threaten the clerk in the morning, what’s next on the agenda?”
“Well, we go visit the Wentworths. It’s been two weeks. His son should have calmed down by now and might let us visit with his dad.”
Jessica nodded. “Okay and then what?”
“Depending on how long that takes, maybe we can go to the library after that and see what else we can uncover through articles on the murders and the trial.”
Just as he completed his sentence, his cellphone began to vibrate. He wiggled his hand into his tight jeans pocket to get it. Looking at the screen, he blurted, “It’s Jamie. She says she’s off to work but hopes I arrived safely and will have a good day.” He started to text something.
“What did you tell her?” she asked concerned.
“That I was taking the red eye to London. I was meeting with the New Scotland Yard for a case I was working on.”
“Boy, that’s a big stretch.”
He shrugged. “Well, I didn’t want her calling me unexpectedly and accidently hearing your voice in the background.”
She sighed disappointed at his charade. “So I guess you haven’t told her.”
He snorted. “Obviously!”
“Eric, you’re worrying about nothing. I think Jamie will understand.”
“I pray she will.” He rubbed his eyes again. “Anyway, I plan on telling her everything when we get back.”
She grinned sympathetically. “I think that’s a smart move.”
He shrugged. “Hope so.” Focusing his fatigued eyes on her, he asked, “How about you? How are you coping with Jason?”
“He keeps calling, leaving messages, but I’ve been too busy to answer.”
Eric harrumphed, crossing his arms over his chest. “So much for your theory that he’ll get bored and move on.”
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say it would happen overnight. But eventually he’ll move on.”
He swished his lips from side to side as if he were wondering, then asked, “And how did your sightseeing date with the man of your dreams go?” He mocked hugging himself.
She laughed, slightly irked at his jest, then threw her pillow at his face.
He deflected it, chuckling. “That badly, huh?”
She scoffed. “No, it went really well.”
He edged closer to the edge of his bed. His tired eyes suddenly seemed wide awake. “Oh! And how well did things go?”
“He wants to see me again next month Wants to come back to New York to continue the tour.” She added, “Actually, since we’re here, I was thinking of calling him to go out.”
Eric’s grin beamed. “Nice. Once we’re done with the Wentworths, I can head to the library while you go see Vincent.”
“That sounds like a good idea.” She pulled her purse toward her. “I’ll text him and see if he’s free tomorrow afternoon.”
While she began her text message, Eric remarked, “I’m happy you’re dating someone like Vincent. He seems like perfect boyfriend material.”
She raised her hand to stifle him. “Whoa. Who said anything about him being my boyfriend? We’re just friends. I’m not ready to date. And neither is he. He is a widower, you know. He has a little girl, too.”
Eric nodded, fascinated by the news. He gave her a mischievous grin. “Well, you know what they say?”
She let out an exasperated breath. She knew what was coming.
“The best marriages were built on friendship first. Who knows, maybe Vincent Archer in the one who will sweep you off your feet.”
She shook her head no, but deep down her brother’s comments stirred something in her.
Chapter 17
No matter how much coffee Eric guzzled this morning he could not shake off the haze of fatigue that weighed on his mind.
Jessica turned the corner at a sharp angle. “Watch it,” Eric warned, fearing they’d hit the car parked at the curb.
She grumbled. “This truck is huge. I’m not used to driving anything like this.”
“Well, that’s all that was available at the car rental place near the airport, so we have to live with it. Do you want me to drive?” he asked.
He wasn’t more experienced at driving a gigantic Ram pickup truck than Jessica, but he certainly couldn’t be any worse.
The robot voice on Google Maps notified them they were close to their destination. “Never mind. It’s only a few blocks away.” She paused as if concentrating on the road and avoiding running over anyone or anything. “Whoever heard of renting a pickup truck at a car rental service? This is ridiculous.”
“Yeah, I know it’s stupid, isn’t it. But as long as it gets is where we want to go in one piece without causing any accidents—” He pointed to the right side of the road. His voice cracked when he shouted, “Will you be careful. You almost sideswiped that mailbox.”
She huffed. “You’re nagging isn’t helping!”
Eric saw the isolated curb at the end of the street. “There. Go there. It’s the perfect place to park. No cars in the vicinity for you to crash into.”
“Ha. Ha. You are going to drive this thing when we head back to the motel and I’ll be the nagging back seat driver.”
Once she finally put the pickup in park and turned off the engine, they remained seated, staring at the big house.
Although the PVC windows and railing were old, they were well maintained. Unlike the Atkins cheery, colorful home, this one was mundane. The roof was charcoal black. The siding white, as were the blinds hanging on the inside of the windows.
The grass was freshly cut, but there were no flowers, trees, trimmed bushes, or decorated gnomes and bird houses to ornate the front yard.
“Do you want to call him before we knock?” Jessica asked getting out of the car.
Eric caught the car keys she tossed at him before replying, “What, so he can say not to come over again? No way. We are going to ring the doorbell and show him our badges when he opens the door.”
“I thought you said you didn’t want to do that. You’d be placing your job in jeopardy.”
“We are not risking our jobs. We won’t say we are here on FBI business. This is a personal visit.
“But our badges may help persuade him to say yes.”
“If you say so,” Jessica replied, pushing the white round doorbell button framed in black PVC.
A tall slim man with gray hair slicked back in a ponytail answered the door. His smile suddenly vanished when he saw Eric. “I thought you were the caregiver,” he commented.
Eric displayed his badge blocking Mr. Wentworth’s vision. “Hi, I’m Eric Firth and this is my sister Jessica.” He moved to the side. “We called you a couple of weeks back.”
It was as if the man hadn’t noticed Eric’s sister until he introduced her. The man’s confused eyes suddenly widened, targeting her.
He didn’t tear his stare away, gawking. “I told you not to come. You’re wasting your time. My dad won’t be able to help you.”
“It won’t hurt to ask him a few questions,” Jessica stated.
The man checked his watch. “Fine I have to wait for the caregiver anyway before I leave for work. Come in”
He pushed the screen door fully open giving them easy access into the house. “My dad is napping in the living room. I was making myself a coffee before I go. Would you like one?”
The man spoke only to Jessica as if Eric were invisible. The way he stared at her was creepy. Eric wanted to tell him to knock it off. But if he did, then Wentworth might tell them to leave before they got the answers they’d come for.
Eric cleared his throat to divert the man’s attention. “Yeah, we’d love some, thank you, Mr. Wentworth.”
He snorted. “Mr. Wentworth is my dad. I’m Saul.” He waved toward the table. “Have a seat.” He resumed his chore of filling the coffee machine with water.
“So, Saul,” Jessica said, “Maybe we can ask you some questions while we wait?”
He
shrugged as he busied himself. “I don’t know how much help I can be. I don’t remember much.”
“Even if you don’t remember much, any info you can tell us would help.” Eric slipped out his notebook from his jacket pocket and began to scribble. “How old were you when it happened?” Saul glanced at him, his brows furrowed and his eyes seemed to glaze over with recollection. “I was around thirty.”
“And your dad?”
“Well, he’s seventy-six now. I guess he was around my age when it happened.”
“How old exactly?” Eric asked. He’d done the math, but he wanted to see how fast Saul answered. The elapse of time could mean a lot.
“I’m fifty-three.”
That quick reply was something to take note of for sure.
“Were you living here at the time?” Eric asked next.
“Yeah, I’ve always lived here. Except at that time, I lived in the bachelor pad in the basement. Ever since my dad’s dementia got worse, I moved up here to look after him when I’m at home.”
“And your mom? Jessica asked.
“My Mom?” His angry eyes bore through her. “I don’t know where she is and what she’s doing and I don’t care. I haven’t seen her ever since she abandoned us when I was two.”
Jessica stole a quick look at Eric when Saul turned his back to take out the vacuum sealed coffee pouch from the pantry.
“Do you remember anything about the murders that night?” Jessica asked.
He appeared pre-occupied with counting scoopfuls of ground coffee when he mumbled, “I was out partying with friends. Missed it all.”
Eric heard a frail male voice holler, “Saul! Saul!”
Saul darted to the hallway. “That’s my dad. He’s awake.”
Minutes later there was a sliding sound as if something were being dragged on the linoleum floor. Soon Eric saw a frail man with a set of thick silver hair, using a walker, enter the kitchen.
Saul tailed him making sure his father didn’t take a misstep and lose his balance. “Sorry about that,” he apologized. “My dad gets frightened when he sees himself alone.”
He helped his dad into a chair and gestured toward Eric and Jessica. He leaned in close to speak in his ear. “Dad, you have guests.”
The instant the old man’s attention centered on Jessica, his sour expression morphed into a gay one. “Beth! You’ve come back.” He glanced at Saul. “Son, look it’s Beth. She’s come to see you and me.”
Chapter 18
“This place has way too many ghosts,” Jessica mused.
Everything inside and outside of the home told her that. There was nothing cheery, personal or homey about it. It had the essentials and nothing more.
It was a common characteristic of people who suffered with depression. They did what was necessary to survive but nothing more to thrive, for instance Saul’s greasy hair he pulled back, the washed yet wrinkled clothes he wore, and the fact that he had a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a granny smith apple laid out in an open lunch box on the table. He apparently was preparing his lunch and making coffee before he left.
The bare necessities to give him enough energy to get through the day, but nothing more.
That didn’t surprize Jessica. Alzheimer’s had many victims, not only the patients afflicted with it, by their loved one who cared for them.
Saul’s mom had abandoned him when he was very young. So when his father fell ill, Saul was the only one who could care for him. Each and every day, Saul was seeing parts of his father wither away. He couldn’t do anything to stop it or slow it. Nor could he run away, leaving his father to suffer all alone.
The stress was taking its toll on him, causing him to neglect his home and himself.
The house wasn’t visually dirty, but it didn’t smell clean either. He probably only wiped the surface, never doing any deep cleaning. The walls seemed like they hadn’t been painted for over a decade.
She knew how hard it all was for Saul and that’s why she gave him slack when he continued to rudely gawk.
Now his father was doing the same thing, as if he’d seen a ghost.
She moved in closer so the ailing old man could see her better. “I’m not Beth, Mr. Wentworth.”
“Yeah, Dad. It’s Jessica, her daughter.”
He pointed at Eric next. “And that’s her son Eric.”
The old man shrugged as if he were trying to get a better look. “Eric and Jessica?” He snorted, waving his hand dismissively. “Don’t be ridiculous, Saul. Eric and Jessica are young kids.” He stretched his shaky hand to grab Jessica’s. His fingers were ice cold.
Mr. Wentworth must have poor circulation, Jessica mused.
He pulled her hand closer as he leaned forward in his chair to kiss it. His gray stubble made Jessica’s skin itchy on contact.
His foggy ice blue gaze returned to fix on her eyes. He gawked, making Jessica extremely uncomfortable. “Gosh, Beth. You are even more beautiful today that you were yesterday. Robert doesn’t deserve you, He’s a no good drunk and a big loser.”
He glanced at his son and grinned mischievously. Then he pulled her closer so he can say in her ear, “You know Saul finds you beautiful too.” Laughter broke out from Al’s lips as he nudged his son. “Don’t you, Saul?”
Saul didn’t speak, but his piercing ice blue stare plated her spine with chills of unease.
Thankfully the doorbell ringing broke Saul and Al’s ogling looks.
Grabbing his lunchbox and zipping it closed, Saul said, “That’s Louise.”
“Who’s Louise?” His dad sounded genuinely perplexed.
Saul sighed disappointingly. “It’s the lady who takes care of you when I go to work.”
Saul shook his head vigorously, sulking. “I don’t need her. Tell her to go away.” His angry eyes turned soft when they fixed on Jessica. He smiled. “Tell her I got Beth to take care of me.”
“That’s not Beth,” Saul said sharply. “That’s Beth’s daughter and son. And they’re leaving.” Grabbing his lunchbox, he jerked his head toward the hallway. “You’ve got to go. I have to leave for work.”
“Well thank you for giving us the time to ask you some questions,” Eric said.
Jessica chose not to speak. She didn’t want to risk eye contact.
“Beth! Beth! Don’t go,” Jessica could hear Al say while Saul directed them to the door. She turned around to observe Al’s actions. Was he trying to stand up? Saul obstructed her view purposely as if he hoped his father’s dementia would soon make him forget Jessica and Eric had been there.
He grumbled under his breath. “I knew your visit would get him flustered. I should have never agreed to talk to you.”
He swung the door open, startling Louise. She was a slightly overweight woman with short straight hair and glasses that rested on the tip of her nose. Once she recomposed herself, Louise extended her hand and widened her lips into a friendly smile. “I didn’t know Mr. Wentworth had guests. I’m Louise Hershner.”
Both Eric and Jessica shook her proffered hand. “Hi, I’m Eric and that’s my sister, Jessica. We were in the area and decided to pay a friendly visit to our old neighbors.”
Louise took a deep, sighing breath. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m so happy Mr. Wentworth had visitors. You’re the first I’ve seen since I’ve worked here.”
Saul grumbled. “I know you’re enjoying this conversation, Louise, but don’t you think you should tend to my dad? It’s time for his meds.”
She nodded. “Oh, yes, of course, Mr. Wentworth.” She waved bye and hurried into the kitchen. Jessica could hear Al shout. “Go away.”
“I really have to go,” Saul said once more.
“Of course. We’re leaving,” Eric replied.
Jessica and Eric descended the stairs. Saul followed, heading to his car. He didn’t get in. Instead he stared at them waiting until they got into the pickup truck.
“Well, that was creepy and super weird,” Eric remarked.
“Y
es, it was.” She could see from the corner of her eye that Saul continued to stare at them. He hadn’t gotten into his car. Instead he leaned on its hood, his arms crossed over his chest.
Those weren’t the actions of someone who was late for work. Those were the actions of someone who wanted to make sure his uninvited guests left and didn’t hang around snooping.
Chapter 19
Jessica was wound tight. Eric had dropped her off at the hotel and headed over to the library to do research.
Their visit to the Wentworths hadn’t gotten them very far. Unfortunately Al Wentworth’s dementia had his mind boggled and distracted. That didn’t allow them to ask him any pertinent questions.
Saul knew nothing. So where did that leave Eric and Jessica? Back at square one. People who suffered from dementia did have lucid moments. Perhaps on their next visit he’d be more helpful, more coherent and cognitive.
Of course they’d have to do it when Saul was at work, because there was no way he’d allow them to talk to his father again.
She checked her watch. Vincent was picking her up at one for a lunch date, which left her with an hour to kill.
Going for a mid-day job would limber her up. She needed to relieve the tension in her shoulders. What better way to do that than with a half hour jog.
She’d have plenty of time afterward to shower and get ready.
She quickly undressed and slipped into her yoga pants and black tank top. She laced her running shoes tight, put her earplugs in, turned on her MP3 player, and set off.
There was a hiking trail behind the motel the front desk clerk had told them about. It supposedly ran for miles.
She set off on her jog hoping to purge the negativity from her body and mind. She listened to the rhythm of the music, trying to sync her steps with the beat of the base drum. The bright sunshine beaming down on her erased all the stress from the last week, the stress from today’s Twilight Zone experience, stress from trying to uncover the truth about their father’s conviction, stress from work, and also but not least the stress dealing with Jason invoked.
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