DOWN COLDER: A Hallie James Mystery (The Hallie James Mysteries Book 3)

by DK Herman

  Dew sparkled on the grass, and the flowers danced in a light breeze. I opened the patio door and took a deep breath of fresh air. My head began to clear, but my stomach was still heavy from last night's bedtime banquet.

  After Hank dropped me off, I was discouraged, restless, and frustrated. Since I'm determined to stay away from emotional drinking, (and emotionless sex) I turned to my current go to stress reliever, food.

  I walked into the bathroom and grimaced at the dirty dishes piled in one of the bathroom's double sinks. I love to eat while soaking in the tub, but I'd really outdone myself with this bathtub feast.

  After leaving Hank in my driveway, I'd gone straight to the kitchen. Rummaging through the well-stocked fridge, I found my family's supper leftovers. Since Brian ate my supper, I was elated at the sight of chicken and waffles.

  Pennsylvania chicken and waffles are very different from southern style. I took four homemade waffles and put them into a serving bowl before ladling the chicken, peas and carrots, and gravy mixture over the top. Then, I added two huge scoops of skin-on, mashed potatoes before sliding the bowl into the microwave.

  While that heated, I took a cereal bowl and cut a gigantic piece of eclair cake. That's layers of graham crackers, and vanilla pudding mixed with cool whip. It's topped with melted chocolate frosting, then left in the fridge until the graham crackers soften. It's heaven on a spoon!

  My stomach gurgled happily at the memory, and I pulled my nightie over my head before stepping into the shower.

  Soon afterwards I was dressed for the day in a black, knee-length skort, a dressy, peach top, and black flats. With my hair fluffed and light makeup on my face, I thought I looked pretty good. I picked up my work purse, and made sure I had my wallet, cell, and Ruger before heading downstairs.

  I entered the kitchen and quietly put my dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

  "Your date was that good, huh?" Liv said, plating scrambled eggs and bacon. "Didn't he feed you."

  "Nope," I said sheepishly. "He made me pay for my own, and then he ate it while I was in the ladies room."

  Liv put down her spatula and looked at me in disbelief. When she saw my serious expression, she burst into giggles. "Why doesn't that computer dating place screen out the yo-yos better than that?"

  "Good question! I'm going to use a different one when I get back from the beach," I said. I gave Liv a hug, and she handed me a full plate.

  I took my breakfast and a cup of coffee into the sunroom. Aunt Jeannie, Gram, and George were finished eating and sat around discussing the morning paper.

  I smiled as everyone told me good morning.

  "How was your evening, dear," Gram asked.

  "Short and irritating," I said before biting into a strip of bacon.

  The date or the guy?" Aunt Jeannie asked.

  "Both." I stabbed at my eggs with a fork.

  "Another weenie," George said to Gram.

  I giggled through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. Yep, weenie suited Brian to a tee.

  I swallowed and wiped my mouth before giving the details of my date. I laughed along with my family, even about Hank stopping to bring me home.

  I never told anyone, even Gabi or Ben, about waking up naked with Hank in my shower, and I didn't intend to, ever. But everyone knew we stopped seeing each other on bad terms, and he was the last person I'd want to see last night.

  I smiled, thankful for my family, and I finished my breakfast. Wiping my mouth again, I stood. "I have to get to the office, but I should be back by one this afternoon."

  "Wonderful," Gram said. "We’ll make something on the grill."

  "Sounds good," I kissed her and my aunt goodbye, then I returned George's finger wave before heading for the front door.

  Everyone at the office was in a great mood except for Ben. I could tell by his red, squinty eyes that he'd had too much fun last night. He sat at his desk, looking dazed and tired.

  "Feeling kinda poorly, are we?" I teased.

  "I'll live," he assured me. An extra-large cup of coffee, and a bottle of Tylenol sat at his elbow.

  "I was going to ask if you wanted a coffee," I said.

  "Got one," he said. "And a mocha is on your desk."

  "Aw, thank you!"

  "Thank Poppy. She took one look at me and rushed over to Brews." Ben washed down two capsules with a slug from his cup.

  "Thanks, Poppy," I yelled up the hall.

  "You're welcome," floated back to me.

  "Must you bellow like a wounded moose?" Ben said with his head in his hands.

  "I'll come back later when you're feeling better," I snickered.

  In my office, I found my mocha latte' on my desk. I sat down, pulled off the lid and took a deep sniff. A mocha smelled almost as good as it tasted. I took my first sip, and my eyes rolled back in my head.

  Checking my schedule, I saw an appointment at nine-thirty that wasn't there yesterday. I took my mocha across the hall and checked with Jessie.

  "Yeah, she called right after you left yesterday," Jessie said. "Mrs. Beverly Cooper wants to talk to you about her ninety-two-year-old mother in law."

  "What about her?"

  "Mrs. Cooper suspects neglect or abuse at the nursing home that's caring for her," Jessie said.

  "I'll wait for her in the reception area," I said. My interest was piqued. I hate bullies. I loathe anyone who hurts kids, animals, the disabled, or the elderly. If you pick on someone who's smaller, weaker, or can't defend themselves, you're scum.

  Jessie recognized the look on my face. "I thought you'd want to take the case."

  "Damned straight," I agreed. "Thanks, Jessie. How's Andy?" I hadn't seen Andy Ross in weeks. He's a good guy, and a terrific cop. It was a wonderful day for Herville when he was promoted to police detective.

  "He had to get out of bed at three in the morning." Jessie sighed. "Somebody came home and found their teenaged daughter unconscious, with her head all bloody."

  "A home invasion?" I asked. Even in small towns, it happens from time to time. But they’re usually drug related.

  "Don't know," Jessie said, biting into an apple. "I haven't heard from him since he left my house."

  "Let me know if you hear anything," I said. It wasn't any of my business, but I had a bad feeling.

  I left Jessie's office and ran into Poppy in the hallway. Poppy didn't resemble her grandfather, but like George, she's petite. She stands about five feet tall with short, dark hair, and chocolate brown eyes that twinkled mischievously in her pretty face. Poppy reminds me of a fairy princess. However, this is a case of looks can be deceiving. Poppy is fierce fighter for who she cares about. I'd seen her, first hand, go into warrior mode. It was awesome.

  "Hey, Hallie," Poppy said. "Rayna asked me to tell you that she found a lead on Max."

  Rayna is my other very talented computer person. She graduated with her degree in computer science at the same time as Poppy. Like all my employees, I'm lucky to have her on my payroll. Like Poppy, she's smart and pretty. She has blue/black hair, dark, brown eyes, and a smooth cocoa complexion. She dresses more stylishly than Poppy's usual jeans or shorts, and she's a good six inches taller.

  "Did she say what she found?" I was trying to stay calm. I've often wondered what I'd say to my lowlife, conniving, weasel of an ex-husband if I was ever in the same room with him again. The possibilities give me goosebumps!

  "He's back in the US," Poppy said.

  I pumped my fist in the air. "Yes!"

  Poppy smiled. "She's gonna work on it over the weekend, but she's on his trail. I told you she'd find him. Rayna's an online bloodhound."

  "You made my day," I said, giving Poppy a hug. "And thanks for the coffee."

  "Sure," Poppy said with another smile.

  Poppy returned to her office, and I took my coffee to the reception area couch. I sat on the soft, brown leather and stared at the unlit fireplace. The room is decorated with taupe walls, pine wainscoting, and cinnamon trim. It's more of a winter room, but it's in
viting and comfortable, year-round.

  Linda is off today, so the reception desk was empty. I thought of using her desk phone to call Andy and ask what gotten him out of bed at three in the morning. But the front door opened, and a pleasant looking, sixtyish woman entered.

  Short and plump, she wore a cotton, summer dress and white, canvas sailor sneakers. Light blue eyes looked around the room, finally settling on me.

  I stood up. "Hello. Are you Beverly Cooper?"

  The woman nodded and uneasily shifted her purse on her shoulder.

  "I'm Hallie James," I said, stepping over to her and shaking her hand. "Please come over on the couch so we can talk. Would you like some coffee or tea?"

  "If it's not too much trouble, some tea would be nice," Beverly Cooper said shyly.

  "I'll get it," Poppy volunteered from the hallway. "I was just getting myself a cup. Sugar and milk, or would you like some honey?"

  "Sugar and milk, please," Beverly replied. She looked at me with a smile. "That young lady looks a lot like my youngest daughter."

  "Poppy's maiden name was Ruhl, and her grandfather is a Murphy," I said. I sat on the couch and patted the seat next to me. "Are you related to them?"

  "No, but my husband is related to Liv Miller," Beverly said and sat down. "Is she still living at your house?"

  "Yes, we love having her with us," I said. "Liv's my deceased grandfather's cousin. Maybe we're related." It seemed like everybody was related to everybody in Herville.

  "Liv's my husband's second cousin on his mother's side,” Beverly said after giving it some thought. "Liv’s maiden name was Oberdorf, right?"

  "Yes, it was." I nodded.

  "My husband's mother was an Oberdorf. I’m sure that she and Liv are cousins. But I don't know about your grandfather.” Beverly fidgeted with her purse’s strap. “My mother in law, she's the reason I came to talk to you." Beverly accepted a cup from Poppy. "Thank you very much." She took a sip and smiled at Poppy. "It's perfect."

  "You think the nursing home is abusing her?" I finished the last of my coffee.

  Beverly nodded. "Something isn't right, and I'm worried." She took another sip of her tea and put the cup on the coffee table. "First, I take her clothes home with me and wash them. The insides, especially her blouses, are always filthy and food crusted. They look like someone uses them to clean out the garbage cans. I don't understand how they get that way. And there are always bruises on her legs, some of them very large. They look painful, but Grace never remembers how she got them."

  "Her name’s Grace?" I said.

  "Yes, Grace Cooper. Beverly nodded. " She's a resident at Hillside Nursing Home, room 137."

  "How long has she lived there?"

  "Eight months," Beverly said with a frown. "I tried to take care of her at our home, but she has trouble walking after a broken hip, and she has heart problems and dementia. She thinks everyone around her are people from her past; usually her brothers and a sister, and her first husband, Ambrose. They've all been gone for years."

  "That must have been really difficult for you," I said.

  "It was." She shook her head sadly. "It was even harder to put her in a home. But we didn't have a choice. She started prowling around at night, and using the stove, or trying to take the car. And once, she walked into a neighbor’s home at two in the morning, looking for Ambrose. The neighbor almost shot her."

  "I'm so sorry." I patted her hand. "I'm sure I can find out if anyone is neglecting or hurting her."

  "Thank you," she said, looking relieved. "I can write you a check." She started rummaging through her purse.

  "We'll bill you," I assured her.” My assistant and I will go to the nursing home this morning. We'll place a device that will record everything that happens in her room. Then, I'll check the footage on Monday and let you know what I see. But I need you to sign some papers, giving us permission to "bug" her room. Will the staff let us visit for fifteen minutes or so?"

  "Yes, I'm sure they will. If they ask, say you're from her church." Beverly finished her tea and stood. "I'll sign whatever you need. Thank you for your help."

  I took Beverly to Jessie's office to sign the contract and permission form. After she left, I checked on Ben.

  He sat at his desk reading a file and munching on a coconut long john. His eyes were less red, but he still looked tired.

  "Where's mine?" I said, sitting down in an armchair.

  Ben rose and carried a bakery box over to me. Offering me a pastry, he sat on the loveseat. "What's up?"

  I told him about Beverly and Grace Cooper. He looked as angry as I did at the thought of someone abusing an elderly woman.

  "How many cameras are we installing? Ben asked. " I'll get them ready to take with us."

  "We'll use two cameras, and I want sound in both the bedroom and bathroom, so grab two mics." I finished the rest of my long john and stood up. "I'll be ready to go after my ten o'clock."

  "Will do," Ben said. He was starting to perk up.

  Ben didn't usually overindulge enough that it affected him the next day. But like other single guys, he hit the bars occasionally. He'd made several friends since moving to Pennsylvania, but I'd seen no sign of a girlfriend. Maybe after his fiancé dumped him last year, he wasn't ready to get involved yet.

  When he does find a girlfriend, he'll have a lot less time for me. The thought made my stomach a little queasy. I depend on him so much. And not just for the agency. I tell him almost every detail of my life. He knows me as well as my family, the good things about me, and the bad.

  I sighed on my way back to my office. Ben deserves to be happy, but I hope I find somebody first.

  I drove my Denali to Hillside Nursing Home. Ben sat in the passenger seat, Poppy behind him. We brought Poppy along because Beverly mentioned how much she looks like her youngest daughter, Grace's granddaughter. Poppy could chat with Grace to distract her while Ben and I set up the equipment.

  Hillside is one of two nursing homes in the county. It's about thirty years old, and it's built in the shape of an X. The building sits atop a small hill. I parked in the visitor's lot, and the three of us went in the front door.

  The smell of commercial disinfectant hit us in face as we crossed the small lobby. But clean is a plus in a place like this. I'd been in other nursing homes that reeked of urine and worse.

  Poppy stopped a young girl with CNA on her name tag. I knew those letters stood for Certified Nursing Assistant, the main caregivers in a nursing home. She sent us to B-wing to find room 137.

  Outside of Grace's room, another CNA told us to go on inside and wait. Grace was at the activities room, but she should be back in a few minutes. We sauntered inside and using Poppy for a look out, Ben and I got to work installing the cameras.

  "No cameras in her bathroom, sound only," I whispered to Ben. It’s too big an invasion of Grace's privacy to watch her on the toilet.

  We got the last mic installed just before Grace burst into the room in her wheelchair. She wheeled herself past Poppy, ignoring her completely, before running over my foot and heading straight for Ben.

  Ben smiled and gave a little wave before letting out a shocked "Hey," when Grace slapped his behind.

  "Where in the hell have you been, Ambrose?" Grace scolded. "Is this the chippy you've been seeing behind my back?" She glared at me.

  "No, ma'am. I'm not his chippy,” I said, listening to Poppy giggle.

  "Damn right, you’re not." Grace rushed at me this time, barely missing my toes with her wheelchair. But she swung a red, plastic flyswatter, slapping me across the face.

  I jumped back and tried to get to safety across the room. "Ambrose, tell her I'm not with you." I glared at Ben who was snickering into his fist.

  "Grace, darling," Ben said as he sat on the bed. "I'm not with her. She's a friend of your cousin, Liv. She's here to visit with you."

  "You're a friend of Olivia's?" Grace asked curtly, but she stopped glaring at me.

  I nodded, not sure what
to say.

  "Well then, have a seat." Grace slid the flyswatter between her hip and the armrest of her wheelchair.

  "Oh, Ambrose, I made you something." Grace dug around in her large bosom for something. "Put out your hand."

  "You made me something," Ben said and extended his hand for Grace's surprise. "How nice."

  We watched Grace pull tissues, a roll of mints, and a comb out of her bra. "Damn it, I know I put it in here," she mumbled and dug around some more. "Ah hah!" She crowed happily and pulled out a mangled piece of cherry pie and placed it into Ben's hand.

  Ben looked at the mess of cherries, crust, pieces of tissue, and hair glopped in his palm and gagged.

  "Eat it!" Grace demanded. "You love my cherry pie."

  "Yeah, Ambrose, eat it," Poppy said, laughing so hard she collapsed into a crouch.

  I was laughing too, but I was also trying to think of a polite way to get us out of the room before Ben threw up his long johns. He was still a bit hungover and was turning green while looking at the muck in his hand.

  Grace must have taken offense to Poppy talking to Ambrose. She pulled out her flyswatter and in a flash, she wheeled across the room. She rammed a metal chair with a pink, plastic seat that was in her way, sending it flying after it bounced off her legs.

  "I think I know how she hurts her legs," Poppy said nervously. Grace had her backed into a corner on the other side of the bed.

  "And the mystery of the food stained clothes is solved," Ben added. He stared out the window to avoid looking at the mess in his hand.

  Another CNA popped her head inside the door. "Are you folks OK?" She smiled knowingly at me and winked. "Gracie, it's almost time for lunch. Alma's looking for you."

  Grace tucked her flyswatter out of sight and wheeled like mad out the door.

  "Thank you," Ben said dumping the contents of his hand into the wastebasket.

  "You can wash your hands in Grace's bathroom," the CNA told Ben. "Gracie is like a squirrel, she stores food for later."

  He flashed her a weak smile and dove into the bathroom.

  "You should have eaten your pie, Ambrose," Poppy called after him. "After all, she even kept it warm for you."