“Didn’t you say the guy’s married?” Jake was obviously trying to hone in on the “life or death” issue, too.
“His wife died two years ago,” Nina said. “She had leukemia.” The tears were back in Nina’s eyes. We were getting closer to what was bothering her. “And now…now he’s back in town, looking for his beloved Lucille before…before…”
“Before?”
“Before he dies! Arnold’s dying!”
Okay. Now we had an issue. Aunt Lucy had gone half-crazy after Uncle Benny died. If this Arnold person was dying, how would she take a second loss of a love?
“How do you know the guy’s dying? Are you sure?”
Nina nodded miserably. “Yeah. He was going to buy the old Proctor place, signed the contract and everything, but then he reneged.”
“Nina, how do you know all this? We were only gone, what, half an hour and you found out all this?”
Nina looked even more miserable. “Yeah, told you I’m good.”
“Honey, just because Arnold didn’t buy the Proctor place, it doesn’t mean he’s dying.”
Nina nodded. “I know. I found out about the Proctor deal from Cindy Evans, she works at Burgess Realty and I knew she’d know if somebody like Arnold Koslovski moved back to town. She’s the one who gave me his new address and that’s how come I know he’s dying!”
Jake couldn’t stand another second of this. “What in the hell does that have to do with the man’s health?”
“Because,” Nina said as she looked up at him, “it’s the hospice unit in Honeybrook. Arnold Koslovski couldn’t live there if he wasn’t dying!”
Nina started sobbing and my cell phone began vibrating. I ignored it. A minute later Jake’s cell also went off. Marygrace Llewellen was an impatient woman.
“Guess she wants to know why we haven’t made it to the hospital yet.”
Jake gave me a look that said “And we took this case on as a public service because…why?”
I ignored him and reached for my cell phone. “Go ahead. I’ll take care of her and this situation too.” Nina was still snuffling into a wad of tissues, too lost in her own conclusions about Arnold Koslovski and his relationship with my aunt to pay any attention to us.
“Good luck!” Jake was gone in an instant, probably relieved to have a valid excuse to take off. For once I couldn’t blame him. I looked down at my sodden cousin, took a deep breath and once again tried to convince her that she was jumping to conclusions but it did no good. Nina remained adamant in her beliefs about Arnold Koslovski. When Spike arrived home from her information-gathering trip to the D.A.’s office, I gladly relinquished my responsibilities for my cousin’s happiness and refocused my thoughts on Bitsy and Baby Blankenship.
I started by responding to Marygrace’s third page in thirty minutes, launching into an offensive before she could tackle me with another one of her verbal onslaughts.
“Jake’s on his way to the hospital now,” I said as soon as she came on the line. “We were checking with some of our informants, you know, for recently fenced stolen property that might’ve belonged to an elderly woman. It was a shot in the dark, what with most of your pawns consisting of tools and elec—”
“Never mind that!” Marygrace whispered into the phone. “We’ve got bigger fish to fry over here! The State’s in, and I don’t mean your regular auditor types. I think they’re feds!”
“What?” I looked up at the ceiling, hoping I was communicating directly with the Person or Persons in Charge. Why me? I asked silently. Is this paybacks for spying on Aunt Lucy? I’m telling you, I was only trying to protect her! And if this is about putting off Bitsy…Well, don’t you think I’m already feeling bad enough, now you gotta add feds to the mix? I could lose my license if they get pissy about things.
“Stella,” Marygrace snapped, forgetting to whisper. “Pay attention! The State comes in to audit nursing homes once a year. They come in any other time they feel like it, but most often it’s because someone’s made a complaint about something we’re doing or not doing to the old people. Well, they’re here, only I know all the State people and I’ve never seen these two, no matter what their credentials say.”
“Are they doing the regular things the State does when they come?”
“Hell, no! They asked for Baby’s chart and then they went into her room! She’s not there. There isn’t any reason for them to go in there, and the charge nurse says they’ve been looking all over her room. I think you’d better get Jake to lay low until they leave. I don’t want any more questions.”
“So, you want us to back off and let Baby come on back to the nursing home without any coverage.”
Marygrace sighed. “No. I want Jake to lay low, you know, don’t let the feds know who he is and what he’s doing.”
Right. Now that would be easy. What was he supposed to do, dress up like a nurse?
I hung up and dialed Jake’s cell phone number.
“Dr. Carpenter.” No hello. Just Jake sounding very professional and lying his ass off.
“This is Nurse Barbie calling. Wanna check my temperature?”
“I’m with a patient. Can it wait?”
“Jake, Marygrace just called. She thinks she’s got feds at the old folks home and she wants you to stick to Baby like glue, but disguise yourself.”
“No can do,” he said cryptically. “They are probably familiar with my work.”
“Nurse Barbie’s familiar with your work, too,” I said, and felt a familiar rush of warmth as I remembered his last house call.
“I think you should probably do the consult yourself. I’m in the middle of completing a consultation on a patient who’s about to be discharged.”
“You’ve got an audience and it’s more than Baby Blankenship, huh?”
“I’m sure your qualifications will more than meet the need.”
“Yours too, Doctor,” I cooed. “I guess I’ll see what I can round up before Baby gets back to the home. So, they’re about to ship her out?”
“Yes, absolutely. Within the hour. Feel free to consult with me after you’ve assessed the patient.”
“Oh, Doc, I do love it when you talk dirty!” I said and hung up.
Great. I had to go undercover at the nursing home where too many people had already seen me, and my black eye from the earlier tangle would be a certain giveaway. How was I going to pull this one off?
Thirty minutes later, after a visit to the attic and a search through a multitude of chests and boxes, I emerged from my room a changed woman. If Aunt Lucy arrived before I walked out the door, I was dead meat. I could justify it as having been done for a worthy cause, but knowing my aunt, this would cut no sway with her. Sacrilege is sacrilege.
When I walked into the kitchen, Spike looked up and did a double-take. Nina reflexively crossed herself.
“Oh no you didn’t!” she gasped. “That’s Aunt Cathy’s!”
“Was,” I corrected, crossing myself and murmuring. “May she rest in peace.”
Spike’s nose wrinkled. “You smell like cedar.”
“You look like…” Nina started, but I was already sweeping past her, headed for the door. “You’d better go to confession!” she yelled after me.
When I arrived at the nursing home, no one recognized me. Even Marygrace lowered her head and made the sign of the cross.
“Sister,” she said softly. “May I help you.”
I couldn’t help it. I giggled. “Yeah, Marygrace, you can introduce me as the new chaplaincy intern, here for the next few weeks.”
“Shit!” she cried, eyes widening. “Stella, is that you?” She got up from her desk and walked around to inspect me more closely. “Damn, you smell like mothballs or something!”
“It’s my great-aunt Cathy’s habit from back when she was in the convent.”
“What’d you do to your face to hide those bruises? You look pale.”
I smiled. “Well, the wimple hid most of the damage, but I had to use under-eye conc
ealer to get the rest.”
Marygrace frowned at the heavy white cloth that framed my face. “Stella, do nuns even still wear habits? I thought they dressed in street clothes nowadays.”
I gave her a look. “I don’t know what they wear and it doesn’t really matter. All you have to do is make everyone believe I come from a small, conservative outfit that still does things the old-fashioned way. Besides, I doubt anybody’ll have the nerve to ask me about my wardrobe.”
A grim-faced trio entered the room led by a large, redheaded man in a gray suit. They stopped short as soon as they recognized my outfit.
“Oh, Marygrace, excuse us,” the redheaded man said. “I didn’t know you were busy.”
Marygrace smiled nervously, her fingers twisting the lanyard that held her nametag. “Oh, Darren, this is the new…chaplaincy intern, Sister…”
I stepped forward, held out my hand and tried to look severe and imposing. “Sister Angelina Jo-Joseph.” I looked straight into the administrator’s eyes, knowing he had to know Marygrace was lying because he’d have been informed of a new intern on staff, but daring him to give us away.
Darren looked startled, his pale skin reddening just slightly beneath the freckled surface.
“Glad to have you with us…Sister.” He glanced past me to Marygrace. “I hate to interrupt, but these gentlemen have a few questions for you concerning the record audits they’ve been doing.”
I took the social cue and smiled gracefully. “Well, if you don’t need me, Marygrace, I’ll just go down to the west wing and say a few prayers.”
Marygrace’s mouth opened, but she was at a loss for words. I made my way past the two broad-shouldered men in dark suits, committing their faces and general descriptions to memory as I went. The chances were slim that Jake would recognize them from my generic depiction; still I tried to pick out distinguishing characteristics. Crew cuts aside, they were both well over six feet tall, but one had a half-moon-shaped scar circling his left eyebrow and the other had the tip missing from his left ring finger.
The two men certainly looked like government agents, but there was something I couldn’t quite put my finger on that made me wonder if they were our government agents. They just didn’t have that fresh-scrubbed Bureau air, and yet I couldn’t say for sure that they didn’t fit the profile. I left the room but lingered outside the door long enough to hear one of them speak. No trace of a foreign accent. Nope, I was probably letting my imagination run away with me and seeing terrorists everywhere.
I reached the corridor leading to Baby Blankenship’s room just as two uniformed ambulance drivers wheeled a gurney through the back door. A thin, white-haired woman with vivid blue eyes was propped up in a sitting position and seemed to be taking great interest in everything going on around her.
“Hey, I know you!” The little elderly firefighter from our earlier visit sat in his wheelchair at the opening to his room. He was looking right at me and scowling. “I’ve seen you around here, Sister, and believe me, it takes more than a bunch of black and white cloth to hide that package!” He cackled but I was frozen, wondering who’d heard him.
“Mr. Heinz, that’s no way to talk!” A young woman dressed in aqua scrubs emerged from the room across the hall and stood, hands on hips, shaking her head at the little man.
“Don’t pay him no mind, Sister,” she said, smiling at me. “He don’t mean a thing by it.”
“I do, too!” Mr. Heinz sputtered. “I’m old, girly, not crazy! She may smell like a mothball but she’s all woman underneath that get-up! I seen her!”
I hated to do it but it was his sanity or mine. “In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, let us pray,” I murmured softly.
The little man dropped his head as the aide walked away. “Forgive me, Sister, for I have sinned,” he said slowly.
I couldn’t do it. God might not strike me dead for lying but Aunt Lucy certainly would.
“I’m just praying, son,” I whispered. “It’s not confession time yet.”
The white-haired man peeked up at me. “The hell it ain’t, Sister. You’re hotter than a two-dollar pistol, and I’ve got lust in my heart!”
Before I could move away, my admirer shot out his hand, grabbed a sizable portion of my posterior and squeezed.
“Mr. Heinz!” The aide materialized from another room just in time to catch her patient in action.
The retired firefighter drew his hand back and smiled up innocently at the girl. “Ah, Kenya, there you are! I was looking for you!”
“Not like that you weren’t!” she groused. “Come on. You’re not fooling me or the sister.” She looked up at me and shook her head. “He’s got selective dementia,” she said. “He picks and chooses when to forget his manners. I’m sorry.”
I raised one hand and smiled my best pure-of-heart smile. “Go in peace, child,” I said, and was amazed when lightning didn’t strike me dead. I turned to walk away and found Baby Blankenship watching me.
“One time,” she said, her voice quavering with the effort to speak. “One time that old coot did the same thing to me. I wasn’t as Christian to him as you just were.”
I smiled as I approached the gurney. “What did you do?”
Baby Blankenship smiled. “I told him to go fuck himself!”
The entire nursing station fell silent for a long moment before one of the nurses gave the tall, skinny ambulance attendant a sharp glance.
“I take it the doctor didn’t order Mrs. Blankenship some Ativan before you left?”
“Apparently not.” The guy started to grin, remembered who I was, and stopped.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said pleasantly. “She’s not fully cognizant of what she’s saying. I’ve worked in nursing homes before. I know how it is.”
The ambulance attendants, accompanied by the nurse, rolled Baby into her room and as I watched, gently deposited the frail woman back into her bed. When they’d gone, I quickly entered the room and closed the door behind me.
“Mrs. Blankenship?” I said, approaching her bedside. The woman’s eyes were closed, but at the mention of her name, they popped open and for a moment she appeared frightened.
“Am I dying?” Baby asked in her shaky voice.
I smiled and patted her arm. “No, dear, not that I know of. I wanted to talk to you about what happened earlier today.”
Baby gave me an understanding wink. “I see. You heard about that, did you?”
A wave of relief spread through me. Baby was having one of her lucid periods.
“Yes, I heard. It’s just terrible! Can you tell me what happened?”
Outside Baby’s room I heard footsteps stop and Marygrace’s voice as she spoke to whoever was with her.
“The door’s closed. The aide is probably with her, getting her changed and back into bed. We’d better not go in just yet. I really don’t think it’s in Mrs. Blankenship’s best interest to talk to you now. Surely this can wait until morning?”
Marygrace had pitched her voice just high enough to carry into the room, signaling me. The deep rumble of an insistent male voice told me that time was of the essence. I turned back to Baby and smiled.
“Baby, did someone come in here and take something that belonged to you? Is that how you got hurt?”
Baby frowned. As I watched her lower lip began to tremble as her watery blue eyes filled with unshed tears.
“Oh, did they? How awful!” she murmured. “I thought that girl wanted something. She was mean to me!”
“Who was mean, Baby? Was it your aide?”
Baby shook her head emphatically. “No, not Lunta. Lunta’s good to me.” She picked nervously at her cotton coverlet. “Barbara came to see me the other day. She’s almost grown-up now.” Baby closed her eyes and appeared to have fallen asleep.
“Baby?”
Her eyelids fluttered as she focused on my face, smiling. “Oh, hello. Am I dead?”
I sighed silently. This was not going to be something I could
rush. “No, dear. I’m a chaplain. I came to see if you’re all right and to keep you safe.” I decided to take a risk. “Your granddaughter, Bitsy, sent me. She said someone took something that belongs to you and I’m here to help get it back.”
The door creaked open and instead of turning around I began to pray, hoping it would deter Baby’s visitors from entering the room. “Our Father who art in Heaven…”
Baby obediently closed her eyes and I kept on praying until I heard the door click shut again.
“Baby?”
This time she was truly sleeping. I slipped my hand into the deep pocket of my robe, pulled out my cell phone and dialed Jake.
“Hey, what’s going on?” he answered.
“Marygrace is trying to keep two guys out of Baby’s room and I’m in here with her. She’s sleeping. I asked her about what happened earlier and if someone had taken anything from her room but she’s not all there. I got nothing.”
Jake chuckled softly. “She apparently thought I was one of her old boyfriends but she did tell me Bitsy came to see her.”
“Well, you got further than I did.”
I looked around the spare little room, feeling sad for the small woman lying asleep in her bed. What an awful way to spend the last days of your life.
“Maybe we ought to look at this from the other end,” Jake said. “Maybe we should find out why Bitsy was in such a hurry to talk to us.”
I looked back at Baby’s door and saw shadows moving past the bottom of the door frame. I had no doubt the feds, or whoever they really were, wouldn’t give up and leave without coming into the old woman’s room and questioning her for themselves.
“Those guys are still here,” I said.
“I know. I’m in the woods behind the parking lot. Open Baby’s blinds and I’ll be able to see which room she’s in.”
I crossed to the window, pulled open the blinds and saw nothing but darkness. The sun had slipped below the horizon, and night had fallen in the short time I’d been inside Brookhaven Manor.
“Nice get-up,” Jake murmured. “I was looking forward to Nurse Barbie but now this is something…”
What Stella Wants Page 6
