"Thanks." Helen waved her on, watched for about ten minutes, then accepted Thelma's offer to take her back to her room.
As promised, Room 134 had a spectacular view of the Columbia River Gorge.
"Can I get you anything before I go? A snack or something to drink?"
"No, thank you. I'm fine."
Glad to be alone again, Helen settled into a blue-gray recliner and fell asleep.
When she awoke the room was in shadows. Someone had lowered the blind, blocking out the sunlight..
Helen heard a faint scraping that sounded like a drawer opening and closing. "Who's there?"
No one answered.
Sure someone was in the room, Helen reached for the lamp next to the chair. It clattered to the floor and left her groping at the air.
Chapter Nineteen
Helen's heart hammered in her chest. Someone was in the room with her. She pressed herself against the chair, waiting for her attacker to strike and staring into the darkness, wishing the chair were facing the door rather than the window.
Nothing happened.
Seconds later the door swished open. Overhead lights came on, obliterating the shadows. "Mrs. Bradley?" A soprano voice splintered the stillness. "Time for dinner.”
A woman in a floral pastel uniform came into Helen's view. "Mrs. Bradley? Are you all right?" She frowned at the lamp. "My goodness, what happened?"
"I'm… I'm not sure. I thought I heard someone in my room." Helen squinted, still trying to adjust to the light.
"You did, honey, me. I came down to see if you'd like to join the residents for dinner."
"I... I could have sworn someone was here before you came in. They knocked the lamp out of my hand. Did you see anyone leave?"
"No. But you look like you just woke up. Maybe you were a little disoriented and misjudged the distance. It happens." She pulled the lamp upright and straightened the shade. "No harm done."
"Thank you." Helen frowned. The intrusion had seemed so real. Now she wondered if the incident had been the product of an overactive imagination.
"I'm Lucy Walker. I’ll be your nurse this shift."
Helen put the incident behind her and focused on the aid. Lucy's smile was nearly as wide as her pixie-like face. With her short shaggy haircut and petite figure, she looked a bit like Peter Pan. Helen guessed her to be around thirty, maybe more. Around here it was hard to tell.
"So would you like to eat in the dining room, or do you want me to bring you a tray?"
Helen opted for the dining room, since it would give her a chance to visit with the other residents. When Lucy brought the wheelchair, Helen insisted on walking. "I need the exercise."
"All right, but I'll walk with you just in case."
By the time Helen arrived, the well-lit dining room had only a few empty seats. Not that it mattered. According to Lucy, residents sat in assigned seats at every meal to cut down on the confusion and provide continuity.
Like everything else at Edgewood, the large room had been simply but elegantly decorated. Dusty rose tablecloths and matching cloth napkins along with floral centerpieces provided cheery colors. The arrangement and layout of the room with its numerous round tables resembled the banquet room of a pricey hotel. The residents varied in age, Helen noticed. Though a handful appeared younger than herself, most looked to be sixty and over.
Lucy escorted Helen to a table near the wall of windows that overlooked a central courtyard and offered an unhindered view of the river. She recognized two of her seatmates, Iris, who was now wearing her teeth, and the therapy protégé, Lars Olsen.
"She can't sit there," a scratchy voice proclaimed when Lucy pulled out a chair next to a woman who had barely enough skin to cover her bones. "That's Ruthie's place."
"Now, Gladys," Lucy patted the woman's shoulder. "You know Ruthie's no longer with us. Everyone, this is our new resident, Helen Bradley."
"Oh yes, I saw you earlier in the exercise room," one of the women said. "I'm Betty Salter."
Helen eased into her chair. "The aerobics instructor."
Betty blushed. "Just one of the many things I do around here to earn my keep."
Helen started to ask what she meant when Lucy intervened. "I'll introduce everyone, then you're on your own. On your right is Gladys Seavolt, then Lars Olsen, Iris Johanson, Betty Salter and her husband, Jim, Daniel Mays, and Lydia James. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go get your dinners."
"Welcome to our table." Betty lifted her water glass in a toast.
"She's sitting in Ruthie's place." Gladys glared at Helen, eyes hard as black marbles.
"You'll have to forgive Gladys," Jim said. "Ruthie was her sister, and she's only been gone a few days."
"Was she discharged or…"
"Died," three of them echoed.
"I'm sorry." Helen picked up her fork and pushed around the salad that had been placed there earlier.
"She fell down the basement stairs." Jim, a lean man with parchment white skin, reached for a roll and a pat of butter from the basket in front of him before passing it on.
"She was pushed." Gladys picked up her fork and stabbed a chunk of lettuce.
An anxious look passed between the other residents. Lars leaned toward Gladys and murmured something in her ear. A warning to keep her mouth shut?
Daniel Mays cleared his throat. "Don't believe everything you hear in this group, Helen. Gladys has trouble discerning fact from fiction."
Helen made a mental note to speak with Gladys privately. Fiction and reality had a tendency to become interwoven here at Edgewood, and Helen wanted an opportunity to judge the woman's mental capacity for herself.
"So tell us what brings you out here." Betty seemed anxious to steer the conversation into safer channels. "Did you come voluntarily or did your family… um… place you?"
Helen bristled at the idea of being placed anywhere. "Strictly voluntary, I can assure you. I came to take advantage of their rehabilitation program."
"You fall too?" Iris asked, her teeth clicking as she spoke.
"In a manner of speaking. Actually, I was shot." Helen went on to explain her encounter with Irene and the gunman.
Lars beamed his recognition. "Ya. I thought your name sounded familiar. I read about you."
"We did too." Betty and Jim joined the conversation, probing for more details. The excited buzz came to a halt when Lucy arrived with a serving cart. She dispensed their meals, then moved to the table beside them. Other staff members, Helen counted seven, were moving about the room serving their charges as well. One of those was Jennie. Her granddaughter seemed more at home here than Helen did as she smiled and chatted with residents at a table across the room. Jennie caught sight of Helen and waved, giving her an I'll-catch-you-later look.
The moment Lucy left the area, Iris took out her teeth and set them beside her plate. "Fool things," she grumbled.
"For heaven's sake, Iris, put your teeth back in." Betty elbowed her. "We have a guest."
"Do you think I care?"
Helen held back a smile and sampled the white mound on her plate. It looked like steamed fish. Though it had been overcooked, the fish tasted remarkably good dipped in the accompanying dill sauce. She also had rice and an assortment of sautéed vegetables. Iris, Helen noted, had mashed potatoes and pureed vegetables.
After taking a few bites, Helen ventured back to their interrupted conversation. "I understand Irene worked here as a volunteer."
"Oh yes," Lydia, the woman on her left, spoke for the first time since Helen's arrival. "She was such a dear. Used to come in and chat with us. It's hard to believe she's gone."
"Yes, it is." Helen longed to question them about Irene and the goings on at Edgewood, but it was too soon. Or so she thought.
"They killed her." Iris paused to gum a forkful of mashed potatoes. "They'll kill us all eventually."
Helen's head snapped up. "You mean Irene?"
"Ruthie. But now that you mention it, they might've done in Irene, too."
"That's quite an accusation. Do you have proof?"
"Of course she doesn't." Betty rolled her eyes and sighed. "There are certain residents who seem to have forgotten that death is imminent. As the famous George Bernard Shaw once said, 'The statistics on death are quite impressive. One out of one people die.' And this is a nursing home, for heaven's sake."
"Humph . . ." Iris picked up her teeth and stuffed them back into her mouth. "You mark my words, missy. Ruthie wasn't the first to have an 'accident,' and she sure won't be the last."
"We'd best keep our mouths shut, old woman," Gladys muttered, "or we just might end up next on the list."
"Hi, everyone." Lucy arrived with trays of dessert. "Oh, Iris, you still have your teeth in. I am so proud of you. See, it isn't so bad."
Iris flashed her a wide grin.
"We have strawberry-kiwi tarts tonight, and they are excellent. Non-fat too, of course. All of our desserts are," she added for Helen's benefit. "Who wants coffee or tea?" Lucy took their orders and left again.
"I must say, this is the most stimulating conversation I've had in a while." Helen sliced into her tart.
Daniel chuckled. "It's not always like this. Gladys suffers from a type of paranoia brought on by senile dementia. Unfortunately, she's convinced Iris and some of the others that the nursing staff are a band of thieves and murderers."
Helen raised an eyebrow. "I see."
"You listen to Daniel. He's a doctor, you know." Lars pierced a strawberry. "It's all a bunch of malarkey. If they was killing people for the insurance, like Iris here seems to think, they'd of gotten rid of me a long time ago. I figure I cost them a lot more than they'll be able to collect when I'm gone."
"Insurance?" Helen was wishing she'd brought a note pad. She was getting far more information than she'd expected.
"Many of us name Kincaid Enterprises as beneficiaries on our insurance policies and in our wills," Lydia explained. "It's all very legal and altruistic. I've done it."
"Ya, me too."
"And I." Daniel nodded. "I wish I could do more. It's good to know that when I die, I'll be leaving a portion of my estate to a worthy cause."
"Do you mind my asking how much that amounts to?" Helen asked.
"Four million plus whatever the funds have earned in the last year."
Helen gasped at Daniel's figure. "That's quite a donation. And the rest of you?"
"I've stipulated $500,000," Lydia offered. "But I'm thinking of increasing it."
"That's a little rich for our blood," Jim said. "Betty and I can't afford much. We've already signed over all of our assets, just so I can stay here. We're not charity cases, but they're not making any money off us either."
"Betty, you said earlier you were 'earning your keep.' What did you mean by that?"
"Well, as Jim said, we don't have a lot of money. Most of it went to pay for Jim's hospital bills. You see, he has a rare blood disorder."
"I have AIDS." Jim settled a challenging gaze on his wife, then on Helen. "And no, I'm not a homosexual or a drug user. In fact, I'm a retired pastor and have always been faithful to my wife. I have no idea how I contracted the virus."
Betty placed a hand on her husband's hand, momentarily stilling his Parkinson-like tremor. "Our church didn't believe him and we were encouraged to take an early retirement. At any rate, Jim's condition was steadily worsening until we found out about the research being done by Kincaid Laboratories."
"They're doing research on AIDS? I thought their focus was gerontology."
"It is," Daniel interjected. "But acquired-immune deficiency isn't just a disease for the younger generation. It's affecting more and more middle-aged and older people as well."
"So their research brought you here?" Helen turned back to Jim.
"Yes. We found an ad in the paper for volunteers to test a new drug and applied. I agreed to be a guinea pig for them, and they give Betty and me room and board for as long as I need it."
"And I work wherever I'm needed to help pay my expenses so I can stay with Jim."
"And the treatment? Is it working?"
"I'm not cured. But their regimen has improved the quality of my life. I'm starting to gain weight and feel more energetic."
"I keep hearing about these wonderful treatments. Are you getting some kind of wonder drug? What are they giving you?"
"It's different for all of us." Lydia placed her napkin on the table. "We go through a battery of tests to determine what our bodies need. Then they determine what vitamins, minerals, herbs, and so on are required to bring us into a more healthy state. It's a very complicated process."
"Could you give me an example of what you're taking?"
"We're really not allowed to tell anyone what medications we're on."
"That's so the family won't know you're being poisoned," Gladys rasped.
And on they went again. The fight against the rational and the irrational. Gladys and Iris insisting Edgewood was the epitome of evil. Jim, Betty, Lars, Daniel, and Lydia making it sound like heaven on earth. Helen had a hunch the truth lay somewhere in between. Her dinner partners had given her much to dissect, only she didn't get a chance to do much thinking above the clamor of debate.
Jason was waiting in her room when she came back from dinner. He'd stretched out in the recliner and fallen asleep. Watching him tugged at Helen's heart. Sleep erased the worry lines from his face, giving him a boyish look. Where had the time gone? It seemed like only yesterday when she'd held him in her arms and read to him and soothed his fears.
She started to brush back the lock of dark hair that had fallen across his forehead but pulled back her hand. Careful not to wake him, Helen crept to the door and reached for the switch to turn off the overhead lights. That's when she noticed a new laptop sitting on the desk, hooked up and ready for use. All the comforts of home, almost.
Deciding to let Jason rest, Helen left word with the receptionist that she'd be in the day room. The large spacious area consisted of several sofas and chairs for entertaining visitors and playing games. She was just passing the front door when Susan and Nick arrived.
After hugs and kisses and reassurances that she hadn't been seriously hurt in the explosion that morning, Helen gave them a tour of the physical therapy department, told them about her exercises, then led them to the gardens outside.
The manicured grounds stretched along the front of the manor, sloping gently downward until they met a low boxwood hedge bordering a steep cliff. An asphalt walk meandered down to a circular garden with a panoramic view of the river.
Nick started romping across the wide expanse of lawn. Helen and Susan found a pair of redwood benches under a giant maple and sat down to enjoy the vista.
"I washed the clothes you left at the house and bought a couple outfits. I can get you more later," Susan said. "Did you want me to bring them to your room?"
"Thanks, but we can do that later. Jason's asleep in there."
"Jason's here?" Susan bit her lower lip. "I hadn't heard from him today."
"I'm not surprised. He must have come straight from work. He brought a replacement for the computer I lost in the explosion."
"That was sweet of him."
"Yes. Yes it was."
"Helen. I…I've made a decision and I'd like to tell you before I talk to Jason." Susan's gaze dropped to the ground.
"Oh?" Helen braced herself for the worst.
"I'm almost afraid to say it, but I think I'm ready to take Jason back."
"Susan, that's wonderful."
She smiled. "I suppose it is. I do love him, more than I ever thought possible. These last few weeks I've worked very hard at making some adjustments in my own thinking and my expectations. It's working. Instead of nagging at him to be with us more, I'm trying to just relax and enjoy our time together. We're talking about everything. We never used to do that."
"You haven't told him yet?"
"No. I want Jennie and Nick to be there when I do."
Helen swal
lowed back the lump in her throat. "You know I couldn't be happier."
"Happier about what?" Jennie came up behind them and wrapped her slender tan arms around Helen's neck.
"None of your business." Susan playfully swatted her daughter on the bottom. "You're too nosy for your own good."
Jennie giggled and came around beside them. "It's Dad, isn't it? You're getting back together."
"Maybe."
"I knew it. I'm going to tell him."
"Wait a minute. How's the job going?" Susan asked.
"Great. I am learning so much. I think I'm really going to like work…"
A piercing scream interrupted Jennie midsentence. Iris, arms and legs flailing, passed by them in her wheelchair, careening down the hill at a dangerously fast speed. Jennie tore out after the run-away chair with its terrified passenger.
"Iris!" Lucy shrieked.
The wheelchair came to an abrupt halt at the hedge. Iris didn't. Helen and the others watched, horrified, as Iris flew over the hedge and disappeared from view.
Chapter Twenty
Jennie, wait!" Helen scrambled to the precipice where her granddaughter, one leg already over the shrubs, started after the elderly woman.
Iris lay unmoving on a rocky ledge about six feet below. Helen closed her eyes for a moment, holding tight to Jennie's arm and offering up a silent prayer. "Don't try to go down there. Go inside and have someone call a rescue unit."
"Mrs. Bradley's right, Jennie," Lucy gasped. "You go ahead. I'll stay here."
Jennie hesitated a moment, then raced up the walk and into the manor.
"This is all my fault." Lucy wrapped her arms around herself as she stared at the still figure below them. "I should have been watching her more closely. I thought I'd strapped her in, but she's like Houdini. She moves so fast. I was afraid she'd end up doing something like this." The last of her words ended in a whine.
Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep: A Helen Bradley Mystery (Helen Bradley Mysteries Book 2) Page 14
