What had happened in this room?
He leaned against the kitchen counter, trying to stay in control.
Lord, please help me! I can’t get through this without You.
He never knew when panic and anxiety would come or what would trigger it. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breaths.
A moment later, he opened his eyes, his heart slowing. He could do this. He just had to keep breathing, keep praying, keep focusing.
His eyes fell on some papers left on the kitchen counter.
Faye Parksley’s name was there.
Last week’s date peeked out from the corner.
At the top, he could see the letters “ling center.”
He started to shove aside the papers on top when Mr. Parksley came back into the room.
“You ready to get started?”
“Am I ever!” he said a little too brightly.
He sat at the table and Mr. Parksley gave him additional pointers on carving the sweet potato. As the man talked and told stories about some of his first projects, Riley’s mind kept going back to that day he’d heard the gunshot.
His gaze drifted to the kitchen floor. Had there been a rug there at one time? He couldn’t be sure. The floor space was big enough for one.
He squinted. If he looked closely enough, the center of the kitchen floor did look glossier than the rest, like maybe it had been protected from the normal wear and tear of foot traffic.
Suddenly, something sharp hit his finger. Looking down, he spotted blood on his index finger. He’d gotten distracted and the knife had nicked him.
“A lot on your mind?” Mr. Parksley asked, rising to grab a paper towel.
Riley spine tightened. There was no malice behind his words. It was just a simple question. “I guess so. My brain doesn’t quite work the same way it used to.”
“Brain injuries take time. Don’t rush yourself.”
He nodded and put the paper towel over his finger. “Could I use your bathroom for a moment?”
“Second door on the left,” Mr. Parksley said.
Riley’s hands shook as he started down the hallway. He paused at the bathroom door and gazed down the length of the hallway. One door was open.
Could that be Mr. Parksley’s bedroom? If this house was anything like Riley’s parent’s place, then the master suite was on the first floor.
He pushed aside his scruples for a moment and tiptoed down the hall. He nudged the door at the end and a large bedroom came into sight.
This had to be the master suite.
A plan—hasty, as it was—formed in his mind. It was a long shot, but a risk that could pay off. He had to hurry, though.
He rushed across the room and opened the first door he saw. Men’s clothing stared back at him. This wasn’t the right closet.
Wasting no time, he opened the next door.
This was it.
This was Faye’s closet.
He knelt down and picked up one of her shoes. He had to see what size she wore.
It was a . . . six? What? That couldn’t be right.
The shoe he’d found was a size eleven. If this was right then that shoe he’d seen in the leaves didn’t belong to Faye.
He put it back where he found it, facts sloshing together in his mind.
“Riley?”
Riley jerked his head up. Mr. Parksley stood in the doorway, staring at him.
“This isn’t the bathroom,” Riley started.
“No, it’s not.” He stared at him, leeriness in his gaze.
“I’m sorry. It’s my brain injury. I . . . I don’t know what to say.” He hated to use his TBI as an excuse, but if there was any time to do it, it was now.
Mr. Parksley still eyed him critically. “Are you okay?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “You know what? I think I should lay down. I hate to cut this short, but I feel like I should head home.”
“Do you want me to drive you?”
Riley shook his head. “No, I’m going to walk. The fresh air will be good for me.”
Before Mr. Parksley could say anything else, Riley apologized again and was out the front door.
He had a lot of thoughts to sort out.
CHAPTER 17
“Are you okay, dear?” his mom asked.
He was really getting tired of her asking that.
Riley dropped into a chair at the kitchen table and nodded, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. “I’m fine, Mom.”
“Can I get you some coffee?”
He nodded. “That actually sounds great.”
While she walked across the kitchen, Riley glanced down at the newspaper. The headline read, “River Crest Hospital under Investigation.”
This must be what Sophia had talked to him about when she’d mentioned all of the stress at work and the scrutiny the staff was under. Mr. Parksley was probably glad he’d gotten out when he had.
His mom set some coffee in front of Riley and then lowered herself across from him. “How was whittling?”
He nodded. “It was fine.”
She gasped and pointed to the bloody tissue on his finger. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Just a little cut. It’s fine. I promise.”
“Are you sure—?”
He held up his hand. “Mom, I’m fine. Really.”
She stared at him several minutes before nodding. “Where’s your latest creation?”
He looked down and realized his hands were empty—except for the bloody napkin. “I didn’t finish it yet. I’ll have to go back and work on it some more.”
“I see.”
Riley leaned back. “Mom, what’s Mrs. Parksley like? I’ve yet to meet her.”
“She’s a strange one. The opposite of her husband. He’s always been quiet and private. A numbers guy. She’s gregarious and social and always in people’s business. They’re living proof that opposites attract.”
“I take it she doesn’t work?”
“She doesn’t work that I know of. She’s too busy having cocktails with her friends. She likes her wine a little too much, if you know what I mean.”
“She’s an alcoholic?” Riley questioned.
“It wouldn’t be very nice for me to conjecture. But that’s the rumor. In fact, the last time I saw her, I ran into her at a grocery store. She seemed three sheets to the wind, even then.”
An idea suddenly hit. “Mom, can you excuse me a minute?”
“Of course.”
Riley hurried up to his room. On a whim, he typed in “Palm Beach Rehab Centers.”
Sure enough, Serene Waters Healing Center popped on the screen.
That’s where Faye was, wasn’t it? The letters fit with what Riley had read on that sheet of paper on Mr. Parksley’s kitchen counter. She’d gone to rehab and Mr. Parksley was telling everyone she was at a spa to save her the embarrassment.
It made sense.
He sighed.
But if Riley was right, that left him right back at square one. It wasn’t Heidi, the maid. It wasn’t Faye, the wife.
Then who else could it be?
Riley had no clue.
Maybe he was going crazy. Maybe all of this was a misunderstanding.
Even worse, he didn’t even want Mr. Parksley to be guilty. The man was nice. He sensed honesty in the man’s eyes.
But he also sensed something unsettled about him, that he had a secret.
He desperately needed someone to talk to about everything. But every person he encountered caused some type of roadblock to go up. He had a million excuses why he couldn’t talk to them, why they’d only pat him on the shoulder and cast him those looks of sorrow. He wouldn’t put himself through that.
But there was one person who came to mind, and he couldn’t help but think she’d understand. She’d get it. She’d get him.
Gabby.
He stared at his phone again, his thoughts clashing inside.
She was dating someone else. If he called her now, would h
e ruin her chances for happiness? Would he be stringing her along? Doing the ultimate injustice to her?
He didn’t know.
And, for that reason, he put his phone away. He still had some things to work out before he could take any action.
***
That night as he lay in bed trying to sleep, his cell phone rang.
His heart raced in anticipation.
Could it be Gabby?
Instead, it was Gabby’s best friend, Sierra.
Riley frowned. Why was she calling? Sierra never called him.
He answered quickly, his thoughts turning from curious to worried. “Sierra?”
“Hello, Riley,” she said, her voice crisp and professional. “How are you?”
He sat up in bed, confusion washing through him. There was absolutely no urgency or concern in her voice. What was this about? “I’m hanging in. You?”
“Doing quite well, thank you.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Gabby is having a hard time, and I don’t like it,” she blurted.
His heart twisted. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I hate seeing her so heartbroken like this.”
The knife in his heart twisted even deeper. “Did something happen? Do I need to go down there? Is she okay?”
“You left her broken hearted, so you tell me.”
His spirit sank, and he let his head fall back against the headboard behind him. This was about him moving away. First he’d heard it from Sophia, now Sierra. Was God trying to tell him something? “Sierra, it’s complicated.”
“I know. Life is complicated. I’ve been telling her to wait for you, but I’m not sure I’m going to do that anymore. I don’t want to see her get jerked around.”
“I’m not trying to jerk her around.”
“That’s sure what it feels like.”
“Sierra—” he started.
“There’s a nice guy who’s interested in her. I think she should date him.”
Riley clamped his mouth shut. Sierra had always been one of Gabby and Riley’s biggest supporters. To hear those words leave her mouth felt like a slap on the face. “Garrett Mercer?”
“Yes, Garrett Mercer.”
He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “Sierra, I care about Gabby deeply.”
“She cares about you, as well. But after that last visit, I just can’t stand to see her hurting as she is.”
“What happened during our last visit?” Had he forgotten something? He searched his memories, but came up with zero. Gabby had come up for the day, she’d had dinner with his family, they’d taken a walk and talked about therapy. That had been right before Christmas.
“Oh, I don’t know. Your mom told her not to come up and visit anymore, maybe.”
“What?” He nearly jumped out of his bed. “What are you talking about?”
“Your mom told Gabby that you seemed more upset every time after you saw her. She asked her not to come up anymore.”
Anger burned in him. So that’s why Gabby had backed off. She’d definitely seemed more distant lately, and all along he’d been clueless about the real reason why.
“I didn’t know that, Sierra. My mom failed to mention that little talk with Gabby to me.”
“Well, it happened. Please don’t hurt her anymore, Riley,” Sierra said. “She deserves better.”
He chomped down. “I won’t, Sierra. That was never, ever my intention. I only want what’s best for her. Right now, I’m not sure if that’s me.”
“Well, make up your mind or you might lose her forever.”
Riley hung up and stared off into space for a moment. How could his mom have interfered like this? She’d had no right. This was hard enough without curveballs like this.
That settled it in his mind. As soon as possible, he was moving out. Right now, he needed to talk to his parents, though.
CHAPTER 18
“How could you do that, Mom?” Riley asked, trying his best to keep his tone respectful.
“I only want what’s best for you, Riley. You’ve got to understand that.” She frowned again.
“Why does everyone else get to determine what’s best for me?”
“Son, you need to calm down,” his father said.
They both looked sleepy and wore their pajamas as they sat on the couch and watched the news, their nightly ritual. Neither of them probably ever thought his mom’s words would get back to Riley.
“I’m tired of calming down. I’m tired of trying to be a good little patient and son and everything else people want me to be. I’m an adult. Sure, I have some issues I’m working through, but I deserve the chance to make my own decisions. I understand that I have to live with the repercussions of those, but that’s what life is about.”
He expected them to argue. Instead, they remained silent for several moments. Finally, his mom nodded. “You’re right. You do deserve control your own life. I have overstepped my boundaries. But I only did it because I love you.”
He was beyond tired of that reasoning. “Why would you say that to Gabby? I just don’t understand.”
“You did seem upset after her visit,” his mom said.
“Of course I was upset. I miss her. I miss my old life. I may have a brain injury, but I’m not incompetent.”
Riley’s father reached for the phone. “I should call Dr. Perkins—”
“Absolutely not. I’m done with Dr. Perkins. I’m done with living like this. I can’t do it anymore.” He started back toward his room.
“Where are you going?” his dad called.
“Figuring out how to take control of my life back.”
***
Riley went to the hospital with Sophia the next day, but he purposefully skipped his appointment with Dr. Perkins. He’d had enough of her. Instead, he wandered the hospital halls. There definitely seemed to be some tension in the air. The investigation going on here had put the staff on edge and their security measures had been tightened.
He paced down to the administrative area of the hospital. As he got closer to the doorway leading into the area, two men in suits stepped out.
The FBI maybe? Something about the way they carried themselves gave him that impression. If he was right, this investigation really was a big deal.
Riley paused a moment. This was where Mr. Parksley had worked, here in this area. He would have been privy to what was going on at the hospital and the allocation of funds—or missing funds, for that matter. Could all of this tie in with the investigation somehow?
He wasn’t sure. But it beat his other theories—which were nonexistent at this point.
He stepped inside the administrative area. The front desk was empty so he wandered toward the offices in the back. He stopped by the doorway with the blank nameplate outside.
Could this be Mr. Parksley’s old office? Riley had heard they hadn’t found anyone to replace him yet. He glanced around.
All the other offices had names on the doors.
“Can I help you?” a petite woman with short salt and pepper hair asked.
He swallowed, quickly formulating his thoughts. “I was looking for Wayne Parksley.”
The woman offered a clipped smile. “I’m sorry. He’s retired.”
“I see. Well, I was actually trying to locate his secretary. When I was here last, she had this wooden bowl in her office, and I wanted to ask where she got it. My mom has a birthday coming up and I think she’d love one.” He remembered the bowl he’d seen in Dr. Perkin’s office. Maybe Mr. Parksley made it a habit to give them out to people here at the hospital.
“I’m sorry. She’s . . . she’s out right now.” She shifted uncomfortably.
“Do you know when she’ll be back?”
The woman shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t. Vicki has been out for a couple of weeks now.”
“Out for a couple of weeks? Wasn’t that interesting. Could this somehow tie in with the gunshot he’d heard at Mr. Parksley’s? The timeli
ne fit.
“I see,” he said again. “Well, thank you for your help.”
He wanted to find Sophia and ask her a few questions. Before he even made it to the second floor where she was working, someone called to him from down the hallway. “Riley Thomas!”
He turned and saw Dr. Perkins. Dread filled him as he waited for her to catch up. “You skipped our appointment today?”
He nodded. “I did.”
“This could seriously delay your recovery. These appointments are very important.”
“I’m finding a new psychologist, Dr. Perkins.”
Her lips parted. “Are you? Why would you want to start over like that?”
“Because I want someone who will acknowledge my faith as the hope I have in recovering. I want someone who understands the importance of my relationships and doesn’t encourage me to break things off with the people I love.”
“I was only being realistic.”
“Your ‘realistic’ isn’t the same as mine.” He paused and nodded toward the elevator. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Before she could say anything else, he hurried upstairs and found Sophia at the nurse’s station.
“What’s going on?” Sophia asked, gathering some charts.
He walked down the hallway with her as she hurried to a patient’s room. “What do you know about Vicki down in the administrative office?”
“I don’t even think I know her. Why?”
“No one has seen her for a couple of weeks.”
She stopped and tilted her head. “Is this about what happened at Mr. Parksley’s? I thought you were going to drop this?”
“Maybe she had something to do with the investigation at this hospital. Maybe she and Mr. Parksley both did.”
Sophia shook her head. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know her, so I can’t really help. And I’ve got to get to my patient’s room. I’ll give you a ride home on my lunch break, okay?”
He bit back disappointment at her easy dismissal. “You know, I think I’m going to catch a cab today. You seem busy.”
“Are you sure?”
Riley nodded. “Positive.”
Feeling like he’d reached another dead end, he started down the hallway. Maybe this was a wild goose chase. All of his supposed clues had led him nowhere.
While You Were Sweeping Page 7
