Security Measures

by Sara K. Parker

  Roman passed her the paper again, and she reluctantly accepted it, then sighed.

  “I can’t pay for more agents,” she finally said. “You’ll have to work with your two guys for now, and get my guys on board with your plan.”

  “We can work with that,” Roman said. “You’re making a good decision.”

  He pulled out a contract from his briefcase and nodded to Hunter. That was his cue. Hunter excused himself and went directly to his truck to start transporting the equipment he’d be installing. He’d get Adam and Vince on board early, and they could keep working when he went on the lunch cruise in a couple of hours.

  His first order of business would be installing the security cameras throughout the grounds. If they’d had one in the dining hall yesterday, they would have had a clear picture of what had happened at dinner.

  He took the dolly out of his truck and started loading it up, thinking over what Bryan had told him after his conversation with Barb. Barb had insisted she’d been meticulous about her ingredients, and she’d served Triss her meal personally. It was possible that Triss was allergic to one of the cheese substitutes Barb had used, but unlikely. Hunter finished loading the equipment and locked up his truck, then pushed the dolly across the parking lot toward Creekside, thinking over the events of the night for the thousandth time. He kept coming back to Iris’s accident with the pasta. It was the only time Triss had left her food. Had someone switched her plate in all the commotion? The dishes had long since been cleaned up, and without cameras, there was no way to know if his theory was correct. But they did have the rest of the ziti Barb had made for Triss, and they had an ingredients list. Triss could at least undergo allergy testing to rule out the possibility that Barb’s experimental meal had accidentally caused anaphylaxis.

  As he approached the entrance to Creekside, Kaye opened the door for him. The mood seemed somber inside—several residents were reading in chairs in the commons or fiddling with their phones or the computers. He checked his watch. Triss would be out soon. She’d been released from the hospital a couple of hours ago and she’d had to get a school assignment completed and submitted. Despite what she’d gone through, she still intended to go on the lunch cruise today. Hunter was uneasy about the idea, but he was just as uneasy about the idea of letting the group go on the trip with no protection. At least he and Triss would both be there, and they’d both be armed.

  He spotted Adam leaning against a far wall, scrolling on his phone. Too distracted for a security officer. Hunter shook off his irritation and called his name, signaling for him to come over. Adam pushed off from the wall and shoved his phone into the pocket of his wrinkly uniform slacks. He pushed his too-long hair out of his eyes and approached Hunter, eyeing the equipment warily.

  “I’m no electrician,” he said. “You might have the wrong guy for this.”

  Hunter studied the young man for a moment, gauged him to be around twenty or twenty-one. Tall and gangly, he walked with slightly hunched shoulders and a general lack of confidence. “This doesn’t require an electrician,” Hunter said, handing Adam a box. “Go ahead and pull out the equipment. I’ll teach you how to do it.”

  “Where are you putting that?” Don asked, looking up from his isolated position behind the computer.

  “This one’s going right there,” Hunter said, pointing to a spot above the entrance to the room. The wide angle of the camera would catch everything—including whatever was on the screens of the row of computers Don was hanging out at. The second one would go in the kitchen, and the third in the dining hall.

  As he painstakingly instructed Adam on how to install the first camera, Triss appeared at his side, holding a camera from a box she’d apparently already opened.

  He glanced at her, relieved to see no trace of the allergic reaction and that her hives were gone. She wore a pair of dark jeans with a gray, long-sleeve T-shirt, her hair twisted softly away from her face.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. “I think the doctor wanted you to be taking it easy.”

  “I’m not much for lying around,” she said. “I’m just observing.” She motioned to Adam on the ladder. “Proceed.”

  Hunter knew what she was doing. She was going to learn by watching, and then she’d run circles around the team installing cameras on her own. He should insist she rest, but he knew that would be futile, and he wanted the cameras up fast. He turned to Adam and continued the installation, aware every second of Triss’s presence.

  “Wow, you guys aren’t messing around.”

  Hunter turned from the camera to find Riley entering the room. She gaped at the camera they were installing and loudly smacked what must have been several pieces of gum in her mouth.

  “Morning, Riley,” Hunter said, ignoring her comment.

  “Don’t you think it’d be better to have, like, spy cameras?” she asked, stepping closer.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, glancing at Triss and reading annoyance on her face.

  “Like, hidden cameras to catch the bad guy instead of visible cameras the bad guy will avoid.”

  “Not really expecting to catch a bad guy with the cameras,” Hunter said, though he was hoping to catch some clues. “Think of the cameras as a first line of protection. And peace of mind.”

  Riley snapped her gum and shrugged. “I don’t like it. I had more peace of mind when cameras weren’t following my every move.”

  “I’m sure we’ll get used to it,” Iris said, looking up from her game of solitaire.

  “Hey, Riley, before you go...” Don stood and scooted out from behind his computer, then approached Riley, who had paused before leaving the room. Hunter turned slightly to try to catch their exchange.

  “You’re studying to be a lawyer, right?”

  “Yeah,” she said brightly. “You in trouble with the law?” She laughed at her own joke, but Don shifted on his feet, no humor in his eyes.

  “Nah, but I think I might need some help with something. You know anyone I could talk to?”

  To Riley’s credit, she got rid of her grin and stopped smacking her gum. “Depends. What’s the problem?”

  Don lowered his voice, but it still carried and Hunter heard every word.

  “Genevieve’s family is getting on my case. Accusing me of taking her money. I don’t know what they’re talking about. Say they’re coming after me.”

  “Why would they accuse you of that?” Riley asked.

  Don shook his head, his bushy white eyebrows drawn together. “Unexplained ATM withdrawals and extra cash back at the grocery store in the two weeks before her death. And two days after.”

  Hunter exchanged a glance with Triss. She was absorbing the conversation, too.

  “Wow,” Riley said. “But there would be video of the withdrawals. If you didn’t do it, they won’t pin it on you.”

  When Don didn’t say anything, Riley’s eyes widened. “Did you do it?”

  He shook his head vehemently. “No—no, of course not.”

  “But?”

  “But they say they have video of me.”

  “Have the police contacted you?” Riley asked.

  “Well, no.”

  She nodded. “Okay, well, let me find someone for you to talk to. It sounds like maybe this family is grasping at straws. If they had proof, you’d be arrested by now, don’t you think? Sounds like they’re harassing you.”

  “Her kids never did like me much,” he agreed.

  “Come with me, and I’ll make a call,” Riley said.

  Hunter had a call to make, too. He needed to speak with Officer Goodson to see if they’d gotten any tips from the Hail family on misuse of her finances. On that note, he wondered if any of the other families of the deceased had noticed anything financially fishy.

  Kaye appeared in the doorway just then. “Oh, good, the cameras are going up.” She walked over
to Triss and hugged her, ignoring the camera she was holding. “You look worlds better.”

  “I feel better,” Triss replied.

  “Still going on the lunch cruise with us?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  An uneasy feeling settled over Hunter as he tightened the final screw on the camera and stepped down from the ladder. He looked around the room, his gaze touching on the faces of the occupants. Nothing out of the ordinary. He was probably anxious about the lunch cruise.

  Triss was walking toward the dining hall and he caught up with her. “Where you heading?”

  She pointed to a far corner in the dining room. “This one goes there, right?”

  He agreed.

  “I’ll get started on it.” She started toward the corner, dragging a chair with her to stand on, but Hunter snagged her wrist.

  “Hey.”

  She paused, her gaze flicking to his hand on her wrist and then up to his eyes.

  “Any chance we can postpone the lunch cruise?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

  She shook her head. “No way. There are no refunds, and everyone’s been looking forward to it.” She kept moving toward the far wall, tugging her arm away from his grasp. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’d be a bold move to try something on the trip with such a small group of people.”

  That much was true. It would certainly limit the list of suspects. Hopefully, the attacker was smart enough to realize that and would stand down.

  * * *

  Cold and cloudy November days reminded Triss of the few hours she had held her daughter, and she wished she was anywhere but boarding the Inner Harbor lunch cruise, where she’d be expected to socialize for the next two hours.

  Not for the first time, she wondered at how she had ever thought signing a contract with Harmony had been a good idea. Her mantra had been to fake it until she made it, and she had been surprised to discover that she didn’t need to fake anything. She felt a genuine connection with many of the residents at Harmony, and she had tapped into a feeling that she had avoided for years—the warmth of friendship.

  She had always loved too deeply. Had loved her mother for years, despite the lack of love returned. And she had fallen hard and fast for a high-school senior her freshman year, had been certain they’d get married. From the moment she had found out she was pregnant, she had loved her baby. Even before there was a heartbeat. Desperately, she had wished circumstances were different, that she could keep her.

  She stood toward the end of the line as eighteen Harmony residents, her fellow grad students and several staff members began to board the enclosed ferry. She tugged her coat closer, her gaze drifting far out into the harbor as she remembered the warm press of newborn baby skin to her chest, the sharp black hair framing an impossibly tiny head, the perfect nose and pale pink lips. She had been gorgeous, perfect. And Triss had walked away.

  “Can’t believe they do these cruises in November,” Hunter said next to her, and she shook away the memories.

  “They don’t usually. Brandon is always thinking up ideas and making them happen.”

  She glanced sideways at him, but he wasn’t watching her. He was observing everyone ahead of them, his gaze scouting the area, touching on every face and every nook and cranny of the boat. She could almost see his mind working, evaluating risks, thinking through escape plans. She was glad he was here. With everything that had been happening at Harmony, the idea of bringing a group of seniors out into open water in November made her a little nervous. She just wished they had one or two more agents with them.

  She finally reached the ramp and walked across it and into the enclosed bottom deck. Warmth seeped through her jacket, and she sighed with relief, looking around the large area. Dining tables were set elegantly around the perimeter of the enclosed deck, surrounded by nearly panoramic water views. Two buffet tables were set on either end, and classical music played softly.

  “Here, let me see if I can do this,” Kaye said as she stood in front of a fancy spread of desserts, flanked by Iris and Courtney. She was holding her phone in front of her as the three squeezed in an attempt at a selfie.

  Triss unzipped her jacket but didn’t take it off, still chilly from waiting in line outside. Residents and staff wandered the area, grinning and chatting, finding seats. The captain entered and welcomed them all, telling them important information about life vests and emergency procedures before discussing lunch and the sights they would sail by. Triss took a seat between Sissy and Iris, joining their conversation about a Christmas choral production they wanted to see together in a couple of weeks. Meanwhile, Hunter was taking a slow stroll around the room, pretending to take in the view from different windows, but she knew he was patrolling the area and keeping an eye out for any hidden dangers.

  As the ship pulled away from the dock, though, Triss didn’t feel nervous or sad anymore. She was caught up in conversation, the scent of garlic and onion filling the dining room as the luncheon was in full swing.

  Of course, it didn’t take long for the conversation around the room to turn to Triss’s allergic reaction.

  “You must be afraid to eat anything at this point,” Kristy said from across the table. “I didn’t realize dairy allergies could be so severe.”

  “It’s scary,” Triss conceded.

  “You didn’t know there was cheese in the ziti?” Riley asked, her expression perplexed.

  “Barb made my meal with some substitutions for the cheese,” Triss said. “Could be that I was allergic to one of the substitutions.” She hoped that would shut down the topic because the luncheon didn’t feel like the time to be discussing her suspicions. But Kaye looked at her seriously.

  “Or it could be that your food got switched somehow.”

  Six pairs of eyes at the table stared at her as they all processed that idea.

  “Oh, come on,” Riley finally said, a tinny laugh erupting. “That’s crazy talk.”

  But as Triss glanced around the table, she didn’t see the humor or borderline hostility from earlier in the week. She saw mostly looks of concern and curiosity.

  “I don’t know,” Sissy said, her mood unusually subdued. “Strange things have been happening. It’s got me thinking. I mean, Genevieve was healthy as a horse. And Frank—suicide?”

  “What are you saying, Sissy?” Iris asked.

  Sissy shrugged. “Maybe just that we should all pay attention to our surroundings and let Triss and her hunky hero install all their cameras and alarms.” The woman’s eyes had glinted a little with her suggestion, and Triss had the feeling she was more interested in the theatrics of the idea of a killer in their midst than she was fearful of the possibility.

  The others caught on and started laughing, but Triss didn’t see the humor.

  “I believe we’ll be having a security meeting tomorrow,” she said carefully. Now wasn’t the time or place to dive into all her theories and concerns. No use scaring everyone on the lunch cruise when they wanted to relax and have a good time. “I will say that I think it’s going to be very important, for a time, to be aware of your surroundings and go places in pairs.”

  The laughter died, and Kaye’s expression sobered. “You don’t have to tell me twice. Something just doesn’t feel right.”

  Next to her, Courtney gathered her heavy sweater closer around her. Perpetually cold, she always dressed in multiple layers, but she looked more creeped out than cold at the moment.

  “So, maybe we should revisit that security plan after all,” Kaye said pleasantly.

  As much as Triss was tempted to jump into this discussion, she knew she needed to wait until the meeting, when everyone was gathered together, and after she’d had a chance to firm up the plans with the others.

  “We will, Kaye,” she agreed. “For now, let’s all try to enjoy ourselves.”

  “Sing us a song, Zach,” Si
ssy called out. “That’ll boost our spirits. And maybe it’ll wake Iris up.”

  Triss looked over to see Iris’s chin sag against her chest, her eyes closed.

  Sissy nudged her. “Zach’s about to sing for us. Wake up, Iris.” She nudged her again.

  Iris jerked awake, looking confused, and then smiled at Zach. “Oh, so he is. Can’t stay awake today.”

  “You should go out on the deck,” Zach said, pulling out the guitar he brought everywhere. “The cold’ll wake you up more than my singing.” He tuned the guitar and began an acoustic serenade.

  “You’re looking sad, my dear,” Kaye said to Courtney as she scooted her chair closer to their table. “Missing your grandfather?”

  Courtney nodded, giving a half-hearted smile. “He’s free, though,” she said. “He was ready to go. He always told me he didn’t want to live long enough to be in pain every day.”

  Kaye nodded. “Many a conversation around that topic happens at Harmony, that’s for sure. How’s your research project going?”

  Courtney’s eyes lit up. “It’s coming along. You’re one of the only people I haven’t interviewed yet.”

  Kaye laughed. “Come on by my apartment whenever you want. I’m usually around, as you well know. Except for when I’m visiting my grandbabies.”

  Hunter moved around the dining room, chatting with different people at different tables, and Triss had begun to feel relaxed, even happy, until Kaye started talking about her daughters and grandchildren.

  Triss’s heart flipped as the conversation turned to baby showers and baby names, and she thought about how different life might have been. In less than two weeks, her own daughter would turn six, and Triss knew nothing about her. The thought rose swiftly and unexpectedly, like a punch in the gut. She excused herself to the bathroom, but on her way, the view beckoned. She walked out through a side door and found the stairs to the top deck. The cold air felt good on her face, and she took a deep breath, willing her thoughts to turn away from what couldn’t be undone.

  It was windier on the top deck, and she zipped her jacket, shoving her hands deep into her pockets and wrapping her soft knit scarf more snugly around her neck. The wind stung her eyes and she blinked away the tears, but didn’t want to bring her hands out of her pockets to brush them away. The city beyond looked cold and sterile, the day dreary, and a heaviness settled at the base of her neck. She refused to dwell on it. She’d spent years learning how to move forward. Anyway, she was used to the depression that taunted her every November. She just needed to get through Thanksgiving and Christmas, and then she’d be fine again.