"Too wound up to sleep, I'm afraid."
"I can get you a sleeping pill. You have a standing order if you need one."
"No thanks. I thought I'd sit in the whirlpool for a few minutes. That should relax me."
This time Amy's grin brought dimples. "Wish I could join you." She held up Helen's sling. "Your sling is soiled. I'll get you a new one."
By the time Amy returned with a new sling, Helen had changed into her swimsuit and slipped into the swirling water.
"Sorry to take so long. I wanted to finish making my rounds." Amy set the clean sling alongside Helen's clothing and hunkered down beside the pool. "I'd love to stay and chat for a while. I like getting to know our new residents. Unfortunately, we're quite busy. If you need anything at all during the night, let us know."
Helen assured her she would, then nestled back against a jet, letting the water beat against her neck and shoulders.
The massaging action of the jets should have relaxed her, but Helen felt a curious unease. Like a police officer on watch, she couldn't let down her guard. Perhaps she too had begun to suffer from paranoia.
After ten minutes Helen gave up, dressed, and headed back to her room. The light was on in Room 128, just down the hall from her and the door was slightly ajar. She paused for a moment, curious, yet not wanting to intrude.
"No," someone, a man, whimpered. "Please, Jack, don't hit me again. I'll get more money. Tomorrow. I'll have it then. I promise."
Helen crept closer and pushed at the door, opening it another foot.
A man the size of a linebacker picked Daniel up out of his chair and dropped him onto the bed, pinning his shoulders down. "You'd better have it, or you'll be next. No one crosses me and gets away with it."
Helen bristled. "Don't be too sure."
The big man straightened and turned, his look as menacing as a grizzly. "Who are you?"
Daniel groaned. "Mrs. Bradley, don't…"
"Shut up," the man growled at Daniel, then turned back to Helen. In a movement swifter than Helen thought possible for a man his size, Jack Owens stepped between Helen and her only means of escape, yanked her in, and closed the door.
Chapter Twenty-one
Jack bared his teeth and raised his fist, still clutching the front of her sweat shirt.
Helen used the only weapon she had at the moment, direct confrontation."
“I wouldn't do that if I were you, Jack." She caught his hard brown gaze and held it.
Something flickered in his eyes. Not fear, but perhaps a realization that he'd gone too far.
"Do what, Mrs. Bradley?" He smiled and backed off.
"You were about to hit me."
"Was I?" He shook his head. "Well, well. Looks like we got us another confused resident. Imagine accusing me of such a thing. I wouldn't hurt a fly, would I, Danny boy?"
Daniel cowered against the bed. "It… it isn't what you think, Mrs. Bradley. Jack didn't hurt me."
"I know what I saw. And I think I know what's going on. Sounds like extortion to me. What's the deal, Jack? They pay you in exchange for not getting beat up?"
"Maybe your eyesight isn't all that good, Mrs. Bradley. You are going to have a tough time proving those allegations. All the residents here love me, right, Dan?"
"Th-that's right. Jack's the best aid around."
"See, Mrs. Bradley? I have a feeling you'll feel the same way once you get to know me." He glanced at his watch.
"Don't count on it." Helen reached for the door handle.
Jack's hand closed over hers, pressing her fingers firmly against the metal. "You'd better run along to bed now." His voice became menacingly gentle. "Sometimes, when our residents get confused and we find them wandering around in the halls late at night, we have to use restraints and medications to settle them down. I wouldn't want that to happen to you."
"Neither would I." Helen swallowed to stem the rising fear.
"Good, I'm glad we understand each other." Jack released his hold on her hand and escorted her back to her room. "Sleep tight, Mrs. Bradley, and don't forget to say your prayers." He paused, then went to her dresser and picked up the phone. "Just in case you forgot, we have a strict policy about phone calls here. No calls between ten p.m. and eight a.m. So you won't be tempted, I'll take this." Jack disconnected the wire running from the wall jack to the phone, wrapped it neatly around his hand, and tucked it into his pocket. "Oh, and one more thing. I wouldn't go running to Amy or anyone else around here. It won't do you any good."
Long after he'd gone, Helen could feel his ominous presence. If she'd come face-to-face with the devil himself, she doubted she'd have felt more shaken. Jack Owens was a man without a conscience. How many residents had he been stealing from? How many had he abused? Or murdered. Her thoughts jumped back to Ruthie. No wonder Daniel had been terrified.
But the big question was why hadn't any of the nurses or other aids noticed? Surely Jack didn't have control over the entire staff. According to Sammi, Edgewood had never had a problem with abuse. Had Jack managed to eliminate all of his uncooperative witnesses?
Maybe an even more important question she needed to ask was what could she do about it? Probably nothing tonight, at least not while Jack was working. She thought about calling Jason at home, but that would mean leaving her room. Not something she relished doing at the moment. Jack might be waiting for her to make just such a move.
Tomorrow she'd call Jason. In the meantime she'd pretend that Jack had succeeded in frightening her into silence. Pretend? He had frightened her. For now she'd sleep or at least try to. Though she seldom felt the need for a gun for protection, she wished she'd have thought to have Jason bring her .38. Not that asking would have done any good. It was probably still in the evidence locker. Of course, Helen reminded herself, even if she had it she wouldn't be able to use it for at least another month. The thought did little to cheer her.
Two hours later, the small alarm clock Susan had brought ticked loudly in the blanketing darkness. Its fluorescent green display announced the time. Two a.m. She needed to get some sleep. Not wanting to go to bed in case Jack came back, she'd stretched out in the recliner, tucked a pillow behind her head, and tossed a lap robe over her to keep out the chill. Jack Owens had scared her more than she cared to admit.
"Lord," she whispered. "I can't fight this alone. I don't know what to do."
Pray. The answer, so simple, yet at the same time logical, must have come from God.
The words forming in her mind brought a smile to her lips. How often she'd repeated the simple prayer to her children and grandchildren. Helen pulled the blanket up around her neck, turned onto her side and made her request to the one who could protect her when no one else could.
"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep…”
Sunbeams streamed through the slats of the Venetian blinds, nudging Helen into wakefulness. Events of the night before filtered into her mind. She was still alive. The door to her room opened.
"Land sakes, girl, what'd you do, sleep in that chair all night?"
"Yes, I..." Helen stopped. No sense bringing accusations against Thelma's co-worker until she had more facts.
"Well, it's no wonder you had such a rough night. You may want to try your bed next time."
"What makes you think I had a rough night?"
"Now don't you play innocent with me, missy. Jack says you couldn't sleep. Then after he gave you a sleeping pill you got all confused and started hallucinating. You even told him Dr. Kincaid was in Daniel's room beating up on him and trying to steal his money. I'll say this for you, When you hallucinate, you do it in a big way. Jack left a note for the doc to switch you to a different medication."
My, my, Jack must have had a pretty busy night covering his tracks. Helen bit back the urge to defend herself. "I always did have a rather fertile imagination. Must have been a strong pill."
"Oh yes. Some of those sleeping pills are wicked if you're not used to them. But don't you worry. Y
ou won't be getting that one again." Thelma raised the blinds and opened the window.
Helen lowered the chair's footrest and climbed out. "Any chance of getting a cup of coffee or some tea?"
"Sure, in the dining room. They'll be servin' breakfast at eight. Looks like you got about an hour. You need help getting dressed or anything?"
"No, thanks, Thelma. I'll be fine."
When Thelma had gone, Helen dressed in a pair of jeans and a cotton knit T-shirt. First thing she needed to do, even before coffee, was to call Jason. Her gaze darted to the telephone. The cord had been replaced.
Grabbing the receiver, Helen started to dial Jason's number, then hung up. Since all the calls went through a switchboard, it wouldn't surprise her if they were able to monitor phone conversations. She'd better find a pay phone. Her cell phone would have come in handy, but it was still sitting uncharged at the apartment in Portland.
The sudden panic she'd felt in the early morning hours slithered away, leaving its poison to seep slowly into her bloodstream. Jack Owens had set into motion a scenario that could easily discredit her. He already had the nursing staff believing she'd been confused. Scenes reminiscent of the movie, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest scurried through her mind. Let's hope I don’t end up with a lobotomy.
Helen shook the images away, pulled on a jacket, and dug several quarters out of her handbag. She'd go for a walk. With any luck she'd find a phone somewhere along the way.
A few minutes later she did, just outside the community building where Irene's funeral had been held.
Jason's answering machine clicked on. "Jason, this is your mother. If you're there, please pick up. I need you to check out a guy who works night shift here at Edgewood. The name is Jack Owens." She left word for Tom as well, then called Sammi at home and finally got a real voice.
"Helen, are you all right?"
"For the moment." Helen filled her in on Jack Owens and his attempt to cover his iniquities.
"He was actually abusing a patient?"
"I don't think it's one patient. I have no idea how many, but I intend to find out. And who knows? There may be other staff members involved. I'm not sure it's wise to say anything to anyone out here until I have proof. Somehow I don't think my opinion will be enough."
"I don't know what to say. This is crazy. I had no idea anything like this was going on."
"Was Jack Owens working the night Ruthie died?"
"I don't remember. I'd have to check my files." Sammi paused. "We'd better tell Paul."
"Not yet. I'm having Jason run a check on Jack. And I need to question some of the residents first. Besides, I'm not sure I trust Paul or anyone else at the moment. I'd appreciate it if you kept our conversation confidential."
"If you say so. Keep me posted on what you find out. And if there's anything I can do…"
"I'll let you know."
Helen hung up and began the trek back to the manor. When she reached the main road, a car pulled up beside her.
Rolling down the window, Stephanie asked, "Can I give you a lift?"
Helen started to refuse, then thought better of it. Stephanie might be able to provide some answers.
Once inside the car, Helen thanked the RN, then asked, "How well do you know Jack Owens?"
The question seemed to startle her. She hesitated a moment. "Well enough, I suppose. He works nights, so I don't see him all that often. Why do you ask?"
"I met him last night." Helen chose her words carefully so as not to reveal her intentions. "And I remember seeing you together after the funeral."
Stephanie gripped the steering wheel a bit harder than necessary to execute a turn. "I talked to a lot of people at the reception, Mrs. Bradley. Is there a problem?"
"Perhaps. I understand he gets a bit rough at times with the residents."
"I see." Stephanie gave her a long hard look. "Who told you this?"
"I'd just as soon keep that confidential for now."
As they pulled into a parking space, Stephanie promised to look into it. Her defensive response left Helen with dozens more questions, and she couldn't help wondering if Jack Owens had some hold over her as well.
Helen thanked her for the ride and hurried inside. After a quick shower and change, she entered the dining room, where most of the residents were already eating.
"There you are. I was beginning to think I'd have to send out a search party." Thelma set a glass of orange juice, a bran muffin, and a bowl of oatmeal in front of her.
"You needn't have worried. I went for a walk this morning. It's beautiful out there."
"Humph. You might have at least let me know. From now on, when you leave you need to sign out with the receptionist. I know you're only here for rehab, but it's a rule for all our residents."
"I'll do that."
"Good, now would you like anything else to eat?"
Helen glanced at the plates around her and shook her head. "This will be fine. Thanks."
Helen blessed her food and eyed the vacant chair across from her. "Anyone know how Iris is this morning?"
"I stopped by to see her before breakfast." Betty began peeling the wrapper off her muffin. "She's already giving the nurses a bad time, so I expect she'll be okay."
"I'm glad to hear that. Any word yet on how it happened?"
Betty shook her head. The others concentrated a bit more than necessary on their mush. Except for Lars, whose questioning blue gaze shifted around the table coming to rest on Daniel.
"You're all looking rather somber this morning." Helen persisted. "Especially you, Daniel."
No one responded, and Daniel refused to meet her gaze.
"Did Daniel tell you about his encounter with Jack last night?" Still no response. Helen poured milk on her oatmeal and sprinkled on a spoonful of brown sugar. "Judging by your silence, I take it he told you about my interrupting the little chat he and Jack were having."
"That's all it was, Helen. A chat." Daniel's coffee sloshed over the rim when he returned it to the table. "Jack can seem a bit rough at times, but he's okay."
Lydia threw her napkin on her empty plate. "Give it up, Daniel. We might as well talk to her. At least warn her what'll happen if she tries to blow the whistle."
"Oh, I think I already know. Jack gave me a taste of how miserable he could make things for me. He hasn't asked for money yet, though. I suspect that's coming."
"Not unless you want drugs," Gladys offered.
Helen dropped her spoon. She hadn't expected to find a drug dealer in a nursing home. "What kind of drugs?"
"Don't listen to her. She doesn't know what she's talking about." Jim pushed away from the table. "Come on, Betty. It's time for my treatment."
Betty gave Helen a helpless look and wheeled her husband away.
"I'm not as far gone as folks think I am," Gladys announced. "Ruthie found out what he was doing. That's why he pushed her down the stairs. Same goes for Iris."
"That's absurd." Daniel rubbed a shaky hand over his face. "Look, Helen, you're better off not knowing."
"What kind of drugs?" Helen repeated.
Lars gave Daniel a worried look. "Maybe it would be best if you tell her, Daniel. Like I said before, it does no good to keep hiding the truth."
Daniel glanced around, then releasing a heavy sigh, whispered. "Not here. Meet me in the garden at nine-thirty."
Lars nodded in approval, and Helen wondered how he fit into the scheme of things. She made a mental note to ask Daniel later.
Helen spent the next hour in the physical therapy room, going through her exercise routine followed by a massage. At nine-twenty, she tucked the small voice-activated tape recorder, that she kept in her purse for interviews, into her pocket and headed outdoors. Hopefully she'd be able to get enough concrete evidence to put an end to Jack Owens' reign of terror.
Helen half expected Daniel to dodge their appointment and was surprised when he showed up.
"Let's walk." Without waiting for an answer, he started down the path
.
Helen hurried to catch up with him.
They wandered through the garden and ended up on a trail leading into the woods. So far Daniel hadn't talked about anything but the weather. Helen was beginning to wonder if he had something other than confession on his mind. Thinking of him as a victim may have been a mistake.
Chapter Twenty-two
They were well away from the buildings before Daniel spoke. "Jack is a supplier. He can get us whatever we want. Pain meds, tranquilizers, alcohol, marijuana, black market stuff. Jim Salter's getting a drug developed by a doctor in Mexico that's supposed to kill the AIDS virus."
"I thought Kincaid Laboratories was treating him."
"They are, but there are limits as to what they can and can't use. The FDA won't allow a drug to go on the market in this country unless it goes through rigorous testing in the United States."
"And for good reason."
"The drug has had good results in Mexico and Jim is a desperate man."
"And Lars?"
Daniel shook his head. "Lars is clean. He'll be moving out of here soon, and Jack wouldn't dare threaten him. He only goes after the weak ones."
"But he knows Jack's been abusing the residents?"
"No. Lars is a friend, Helen. He knows what's going on with me, but that's the extent of it. I asked him to keep his mouth shut and he has."
"What about you?"
"I'm not buying drugs, not entirely. I'm buying a way out."
"Out of here? Why don't you just leave?"
"It's not that simple. I'm dying. They told me three weeks ago. For me it's going to be a long and painful process. I don't want to wait. The night I found out about it, I told Jack. For $10,000 he could get me what I need to end my life in a dignified, pain-free manner."
"Assisted suicide?"
"Yes, but he makes sure it looks like a natural death. It seemed like an answer to prayer. Now I'm not so sure. I didn't know what kind of man he was. He's upped the price to $15,000, and I have a feeling it isn't going to stop there."
"Why don't you turn him in?"
"No! And you mustn't either. I'm only telling you because I want you to know what you're up against. If you try to tell anyone about this conversation, I'll flatly deny it. He’s threatened to kill my wife and daughter if I go to the police. I'm sure he's done the same to others."
Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep: A Helen Bradley Mystery (Helen Bradley Mysteries Book 2) Page 16
