Hal stared at her. “I’ll have a heart attack or stroke if I do that.”
Grace shrugged. “Don’t forget about cancer and early onset dementia. Life is all about choices, isn’t it? Take a look around, Hal. Do you enjoy living this way?”
Morris pushed her legs apart. “Maybe I do. Maybe I like it just fine.”
Hanes sighed. “All right, one more round, but it’s going to cost you another fifty. And after this, we need to go so I can check on my mother before she goes to bed.”
Hal reached in his wallet and pulled out three twenties. “I’ll give you sixty. You’ll earn the extra ten.”
Grace lay back in the bed, closed her eyes, and prepared her mind and body for the next assault.
* * * *
The Monopoly game was in full swing. Randi, Bo, and Monday struggled to keep up with Henry. The Yorkie had already collected an impressive pile of money and was using it to acquire properties and build houses and hotels.
Randi looked up from the board as Callie sat down on the sofa and winced.
“Are you all right?”
Callie smiled. “I had a bad end to an otherwise perfect day.”
She told them about the assault in the Channel Marker’s parking lot.
Randi stood and helped Callie up from the sofa. “Let’s go. I’ve got some ibuprofen in the bathroom. I want you to take off your shirt so I can see your back.”
“I’m glad Anderson didn’t hear you say that.”
“Hah…come on, Callie.”
The bathroom was spacious, with a full-length mirror over a double sink.
Randi handed Callie three tablets. “Take these.”
Callie swallowed the tablets and drank some water from the sink. She waited while Randi unbuttoned and removed her shirt. “How does it look?”
“Not good, but you’ll live. You’re going to have a nasty bruise. Are you having any trouble breathing?”
“No…I mean there’s a lot of pain, but I don’t think he broke any of my ribs.”
“I’m going to get you an ice pack. I’ll be right back.”
Callie was staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror when Randi returned. “How am I going to use this? I can’t reach around and hold it against my back.”
“I’ll do it. You sit on the edge of the tub, and I’ll hold the pack against your back. I think you’re only supposed to do it for a few minutes. We can do it again right before you go to bed.”
Callie gasped as Randi applied the pack.
“We should take off your bra,” Randi said. “It’ll be easier.” She put down the ice pack and carefully unhooked the bra. “Let me know if I’m hurting you.”
Callie remained silent.
Randi’s hand grazed a breast as she pulled the bra away. Her breath quickened as she dropped it on the floor. She picked up the ice pack and pressed it against Callie’s back.
“I can hear you breathing,” Callie said.
“Sorry,” Randi said. “I should lose some weight, but Anderson likes me thick.”
“I think you look great, Randi.”
“Thanks. I think that’s enough ice for now. I’ll help you with your shirt.”
Callie stood and reached for her bra.
“You’ll feel better without it.” Randi’s hands shook as she fastened the buttons on the front of Callie’s shirt. “I need to get back to the Monopoly game. Come on out when you’re ready. We need to tell Salem about this.”
Callie watched her leave. She thought about her upcoming date with Helen Cook. Randi had the same sexy curves as Helen, and she was nearly twenty-five years younger.
Let it go. She’s marrying Anderson. You can’t destroy that.
Salem and Krista were watching the game when she came out of the bathroom.
“Who’s winning?”
“Take a guess,” Salem said. “I understand you ran into some trouble tonight. Did you get a look at the guy?”
Callie shook her head. “He was wearing a ski mask with eye holes. I’m not even sure if it was a man. The person was about average height and maybe a little overweight, although that could have been the heavy clothes. Judging by the way the person moved, I think it was probably a man in his forties or fifties. Whoever it was will have red eyes from my pepper spray and a bad limp from the fender of my car.”
Salem nodded. “That helps rule out Davis Lord. It sounds like we’re looking at either Hal Morris or Jack Fowler as the most likely suspects.”
“Let’s not rule out Grace Hanes,” Callie said. “She’s the right age and size, and I expect she’s strong enough to pack a wallop. And she’s not a girly girl. With the right clothing on a dark, cold night, she might be mistaken for a guy.”
“Don’t forget about Finn Watson,” Bo said. “He’s probably in his fifties, but he’s got the strength and stamina of a younger man.”
“I’ll call Dodd about this,” Salem said. “Maybe he can pull his man off Lord and reassign him to either Morris or Fowler.”
Callie looked at him. “We need to put this guy away, Salem. I mean we really need to put him away. I hope Dodd won’t get in the way of that.”
Salem shook his head. “Dodd’s not that kind of cop. He’ll let us have a hard go at the guy before he hauls him away. We need his support and resources. You know as well as I do that we have a pretty lousy track record of solving problems like this on our own.”
Callie nodded.
Salem got to his feet and headed upstairs to call the FBI agent.
Bo rolled the dice and threw up his hands in disgust. “Boardwalk…I can’t believe it. Henry always has a hotel on Boardwalk. That’s it for me.”
Randi folded ten minutes later.
Monday glanced across the board at Henry. The little terrier was nearly hidden behind his towering piles of money. “I’ve only got three hundred dollars left, Henry.”
The Yorkie flicked his ears and kept his eyes on the dice.
“Four,” Monday said.
She moved her game piece and landed on one of Henry’s major property holdings. “You win, Henry.”
The tiny dog emerged from behind his stacks of money and accepted Monday’s congratulatory handshake before sprinting across the room to the door.
Krista got up from the sofa. “It’s bedtime, Monday. I’ll be up to tuck you in after I take Henry out.”
Randi helped her put the game away.
“I’m beat,” Bo said. “Goodnight.”
Callie looked at Randi. “I’m tired, but I’m afraid to lie down.”
“You’ll be fine if you sleep on your side or stomach. The bottle of ibuprofen is in the bathroom if you need it later. I’ll get the ice pack.”
Callie nodded and headed for the bedroom.
Randi returned with the pack and helped Callie remove her shirt. “We can do this in here. Lie down on your stomach.”
Callie gasped as the cold pack touched her skin. “Okay, that’s enough. I’ll manage with the ibuprofen and a warm shower first thing tomorrow morning.”
Randi removed the pack and started to leave.
“Can you stay for a minute? I could use your help getting undressed and ready for bed.”
Callie rolled onto her back. “God, that hurts.”
Randi removed her shoes and socks while Callie unbuckled her belt and slipped out of her pants. Randi gazed at Callie’s red thong underwear. “That’s a cute style. Do you need help with pajamas or a nightgown?”
Callie pointed to the dresser. “I have a white nightgown in the second drawer.”
Randi helped her put it on. The gown was see-through and the approximate length of a mini-skirt from the sixties. “That’s hot, Callie.”
Callie nodded. Her throat was suddenly dry. “My feet are cold.”
Randi lifted her shirt and removed her bra. She took Callie’s feet and held them between her breasts.
“Oh, God,” Callie whispered.
Randi’s eyes were closed, and her body shook. She removed
Callie’s feet from her breasts and climbed onto the bed. Without a word, she removed her pants and placed Callie’s feet between her legs.
“Love me,” Callie gasped.
Ten minutes later, Randi retrieved her pants and slipped through the adjoining door to her own bedroom. Callie sighed and sank down into the covers. Her feet were warm now, and the tension was gone from her mind and body. She closed her eyes and tried to think about her upcoming date with Helen Cook. It was no use. Her mind was filled with the smell and touch of Randi Lane.
Chapter 34
Grace Hanes sat in the parking lot and watched Hal disappear through the front door of the addiction center. Thank God the day was almost over. She had never worked so hard in her life for a hundred and sixty bucks. Everything below her waist was sore and tender. She found it hard to believe Hal’s penis wasn’t a raw and bleeding stump from the relentless punishment he put it through.
Hal would still need her once he got out of Passages. She could probably milk him for three hundred or so a week until he ran out of money. That wouldn’t be long. Morris had told her the bank was in the process of foreclosing on his home. He was underwater on his mortgage anyway and had stopped making payments after losing his job.
Don’t count on that money, Grace. If Hal has any sense, he’ll pack his bags and hit the road as soon as he leaves Passages. There’s nothing for him here. He’ll never get another decent job in Shenandoah County.
She leaned back in the car seat and tried to think of some other way to boost her finances. Passages Assisted Living was a money pit that was sucking her dry. Her mother had emptied her savings and retirement accounts to buy the apartment at Passages. The only thing she had left was her social security income and a small monthly annuity left by her father. It was enough to cover her basic living expenses, but there was nothing left for the fees and assessments Passages seemed to charge for everything under the sun. Grace had to pay those bills unless she wanted to stick her mother in the horrid county nursing home. Her mother was a trial and burden, but she wouldn’t wish that nursing home on her worst enemy.
I need to get out of the drug business. It’s not worth it. I can’t believe I’ve only made five hundred dollars this month. I can do better than that working part-time at Carson’s or the marina.
Grace knew her financial problems would be over as soon as her mother died. She could sell the apartment and add the money to the five-hundred-thousand-dollar life insurance proceeds from her mother’s policy. That would be more than enough to take her anywhere she wanted to go. The only problem was that her mother was in good health for her age. She could live another ten years. Grace didn’t think she could wait that long.
I’ll call Finn Watson tomorrow and let him know I’m interested in escort work. I’ll make more money with less effort than I would with someone like Hal Morris. I’m no older than Melissa was, and I’m better looking. Even if I only see five clients a week, that’s more than I’m making selling drugs and trying to satisfy Hal.
She got out of the car and headed up the walk to the assisted living building. Her mother’s apartment was on the first floor. Grace couldn’t help resenting the fact that it was nicer than her own place. It wasn’t fair.
Grace rang the bell and waited. She listened for movement inside the apartment, but heard nothing. She rang the bell a second time and reached for the key her mother had insisted she keep for emergencies.
“Mom, are you asleep? I’m sorry I didn’t come by earlier.”
The apartment was unnaturally quiet. Her mother never went to bed without turning on the fan and her white noise machine. One of the curses of old age was insomnia. Barbara Hanes claimed the machine helped her sleep through the night.
The bedroom door was open. Her mother always slept with the door closed to help block noise from the hallway outside her apartment.
Grace knew she was dead as soon as she entered the room. Her mother’s mouth was open, but it was clear her respiratory system was out of business.
She went to her mother’s side and checked her pupils. Just to be sure, Grace felt for a carotid and radial pulse. Barbara Hanes was gone. It didn’t make sense.
Grace walked around the body, looking for evidence of a physical attack. If someone had choked or smothered her mother, there would be bruising around the throat or signs of petechia. She noticed her mother’s arm on top of the bed spread. That was odd. Barbara Hanes was a cold-natured woman, and she kept the heat in the apartment on sixty-two in order to manage her utility bill. Her arms would have been under the covers.
Bingo…we have a winner.
There were three small needle marks on the inside of her mother’s arm. Grace smiled. The person who had killed her mother was someone with medical training and knowledge, probably a nurse or doctor. Sodium pentobarbital would have knocked her mother out and suppressed the respiratory system. The killer would have followed with a paralytic like pancuronium bromide. Her mother would have been dead by then. The third injection was undoubtedly potassium chloride to make sure the county medical examiner would list the cause of death as a heart attack.
Grace took a closer look at the injection sites. It was a sloppy job, something she would expect from an inexperienced LPN or a medical assistant.
That doesn’t fit. Passages only hires registered nurses. This isn’t the work of a qualified nurse.
She stared at her mother’s arm. A smile crept across her face.
This is the work of a doctor who probably hasn’t given an injection since his first year of medical school.
Grace went into her mother’s bathroom and gazed at her reflection in the mirror until the smile was gone and her eyes were watering with crocodile tears. She took a deep breath and raced out of the apartment, screaming for help.
* * * *
Fowler studied the letter of resignation and then looked up at Grace Hanes. “I’m sorry about your mother, Grace. I know what it’s like to lose a parent. We’ll miss you here at Passages.”
Grace smiled and handed the director another sheet of paper. “Let’s cut the crap, Jack. The staff in the assisted living building confirmed you visited my mother last night.”
“That’s right,” Fowler said. “My responsibilities aren’t limited to the addiction center, Grace. I visit with our assisted living residents on a regular basis. It’s an opportunity for me to hear any complaints they may have, as well as assess their mobility and cognitive function.”
Grace nodded. “That was sloppy work with the injections. I’ll bet it’s been twenty years since you’ve had to draw blood or give some unfortunate patient a shot.”
Fowler’s bland expression slipped.
“You must have been terrified, Jack. Were your hands shaking? One mistake, one needle stick of sodium pentobarbital, pancuronium bromide, or potassium chloride would have been the end for you.”
The director was perspiring now, and his face was the color of milk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Grace remained silent.
“What do you want?”
“Now you’re talking, Jack. It’s lucky for you I’m a reasonable woman. I want you to sign that glowing letter of recommendation you’re holding in your hand. You’ll note I was your senior nursing supervisor during my time here. That little fib should get me the salary and authority I deserve at my next job.”
Fowler signed the letter without reading it. “What else?”
“I’ll stop by tomorrow morning to pick up my final paycheck, including one month’s severance pay.”
The director nodded. “Is that it?”
“Almost,” Grace said. “I’ll also expect a certified check for a hundred thousand dollars. In exchange, I promise not to tell anyone you murdered my mother.”
“Now wait a minute…”
“Shut up, Jack. I’m done waiting. I can put your skinny ass on death row with one phone call. Is that what you want? Who’s going to buy the donuts for your circus freak girlfrie
nd if you’re in prison?”
Fowler glared at her.
“It’s up to you, Jack. If you don’t want to pay me and you don’t want to go to prison, your only other option is to kill me. Of course, even if you somehow manage to do that, you’re running the risk I’ve already recorded the details of your crime on a disk safely tucked away in my safety deposit box. Maybe it would be better to wish me a long and prosperous life instead of trying to get away with a second murder.”
“How do I know you’ll keep your word? You could have already told someone, for all I know.”
Grace laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Jack. Don’t disappoint me.”
She waited until she was back at the apartment to remove the recorder from her bra. The audio was a little scratchy, but clear enough for anyone to understand. Fowler’s last statement was essentially an admission. The fact that she was guilty of withholding evidence at best, and acting as an accessory after the fact at worst, didn’t bother Grace. Nobody needed to hear the tape unless Fowler did something stupid.
It was nearly lunch time, but Grace was too excited to eat. She went into the bedroom and dragged her suitcases out of the closet. Somebody else could arrange her mother’s funeral. In less than twenty-four hours, she would kiss Shenandoah County goodbye forever.
Chapter 35
“These are the best hot dogs in Shenandoah County,” Bo said. “I could eat them for lunch every day.”
Missy laughed. “That probably wouldn’t be the greatest diet in the world.”
Bo bit into his first dog and nodded. “The stuff that’s bad for you always tastes the best.”
He looked out at the water. The sun was out, and winter had temporarily loosened its icy grip on the lake. Temperatures had risen into the upper forties. A few boats would be out on the water this weekend if the weather held.
Missy tasted her hot dog and rolled her eyes. “You’re right. I’ve never had a hot dog this good.”
Bo watched her eat. He was glad to see she had a hearty appetite. It was a welcome change from Melissa, who had lived on little more than candy and soda from the motel vending machines.
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