by Lynn Cahoon
“North California?” Now I was intrigued. Maybe this was the mother he’d brought to live closer.
“She was from Oregon, according to Judy. She’s the social worker who has me come visit.” The phone rang and Esmeralda reached for it, interrupting our conversation. She wrote on a piece of paper and shoved it at me as she listened to the caller. She put her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, “The name of the nursing home.”
As I walked out, I put the piece of paper in my pocket. It was time to make a trip into town. Emma needed treats, I needed to go to the grocery store, and while I was there, I would talk to Judy at Resting Acres Nursing Home. Or at least I’d try.
I pulled my cell out of my pocket and dialed a number as I walked home. When the line was answered, I asked, “Want to go visit a nursing home?”
“Making plans for my retirement?” Aunt Jackie answered. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“No, I’m not looking for a place to stick you. Although it might be a good idea to start.” I probably shouldn’t have said the last bit out loud. “Anyway, I need to talk to someone, and I thought if I brought you, we could pretend we were looking for someone else.”
“You mean like an imaginary husband I’m tired of taking care of?” She chuckled. “I could play that role easily. I’ll just pretend it’s Josh. I wonder if they do bariatric placements.”
“Maybe you could pretend he wasn’t that large.” I’d hate to have them turn us away without finding out who this mystery woman was. “So, do you want to come or not?”
“You’ll owe me lunch. And not some fast-food bag of grease. I want a real, sit-down meal.” She paused and I heard the television shut off in the background. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be ready.”
I heard the phone click in my ear. Twenty minutes would be perfect. I’d have time to start researching Austin and his mysterious past. Maybe Aunt Jackie knew something about the era as well. She had been active in political campaigns during that time, she could have knowledge about the anti-war protests. I sped up my walking so I could get busy on the computer.
Thirty minutes later, Aunt Jackie and I were in the Jeep, heading toward Bakerstown. I filled her in on what I’d found. “I think this was the incident that sent Austin and Mary Jane underground.” I handed her a page I’d printed off just before I’d shut down my laptop.
“I remember this. The ROTC building was bombed on campus. They never found out who planted the bomb, but they assumed it was an anti-war group.” Aunt Jackie looked at me. “You think this was Austin?”
“Look at the next page. There’s a picture of the protesters who marched the weekend before. Doesn’t that look like him, third one from the left?” I focused on the road as she looked at the grainy black-and-white picture.
“It could be. I’ve only known him with his gray dreadlocks. This guy must be young, maybe not even eighteen. There’s something familiar about his eyes, though.” She looked at me. “You think it’s him.”
“I do. And there’s a young woman next to him with her arm in his. I bet that’s Mary Jane.” I turned off the air. “Sadie said he ran because of what she did. Maybe she set the bomb off. Austin could have just been in the wrong place and felt protective of his girlfriend.”
“Not very smart if it was him.” She put the papers back into the folder and sighed. “The whole thing seems too cloak-and-dagger for the guy. He’ll sit on the beach for hours, working on his tan and ignore the customers who are lining up at his rental booth.”
“Maybe he’s really good at hiding his true self.” But I was beginning to wonder if this was another wild goose chase. It was a good thing I hadn’t mentioned my suspicions to Greg, he would have laughed at me. Well, after I got the lecture about staying out of the investigation, I was 90 percent sure he would have laughed. Okay, maybe 75.
I really had to stop testing his level of commitment like this. And I would—right after we visited the nursing home.
CHAPTER 12
“We have an excellent locked ward for our more challenged residents.” We were being given the grand tour by the marketing manager, Tess. I kind of felt bad for the woman since there wasn’t a real “Uncle Ted” for us to place. She continued with her sales pitch. “The facility is set up for the varying needs of your loved one. Depending on the progression of the disease, they could be in the open ward with little supervision, the medium ward, where we have an increased level of staffing, or finally, the locked ward, where they are limited on their ability to roam the grounds.”
Aunt Jackie pointed to the large glass windows looking out onto a hilly area behind the building. “You have such lovely gardens. Are residents allowed outside? Ted loves his walks.”
“Of course, as long as they are supervised. We’d hate for someone to fall without us knowing. We use alarms on walkers, chairs, and beds to keep the nursing staff alert to problems such as fall risks.” Now Tess looked anxious. “We have an excellent record of fall prevention. You can see that on the government website that ranks homes in the area.”
“I didn’t realize there was a website.” Or really cared for that matter. I guess I should have been more interested in what a good long-term care facility looked like, for Aunt Jackie’s sake, but that was one future I couldn’t think about today. Or ever, if I was lucky. I scanned the large living room for someone who looked like Mary Jane. Her hair in the black-and-white photo had looked dark, but who knew what color it was in real life. It could be gray now.
Tess nodded. “I’ll give you the pamphlet with your visit materials before you leave. I’m sure you’ll find our home is top in the area.” She opened a door and we walked into what appeared to be the crafts room. “Here’s where our more active residents spend their days. We have speakers come in, have quilt clubs, and even craft days. We just had a fifth-grade class visit and lead the group in making Valentines.” Tess pointed to the wall. “The residents loved it.”
It looked like my elementary hallway with all the lacy hearts covering the wall, some pretty and sparkly with glitter, others with handwriting not much better than a scribble that looked like my primary care physician’s script for my prescriptions.
“Isn’t this nice, Jill?” Aunt Jackie smiled at me and pointed me toward a woman sitting alone with a journal. Her long gray hair covered her face as she wrote furiously into the notebook. As Tess continued talking about the overwhelming choices of activities a resident had for their week, the woman at the table picked up her travel mug and tried to take a drink. I watched as she tilted her head back and shook the empty cup. Then she slammed the notebook closed and wheeled over to our group.
Tess looked down at her, stroked the woman’s hair out of her face, and adjusted her flowing scarf around her shoulders. “Good morning, MJ, how are you feeling?”
“I’m dying of thirst over here. Doesn’t anyone check on an old woman anymore? What are we here for? A show for your new victims?” MJ pointed to Aunt Jackie. “You should run as fast as you can before you’re warehoused here with the rest of us.”
“Now MJ, you know all you have to do is ask and we’ll get you more coffee.” Tess waved over an aide and handed the cup to the young girl, then whispered to me, “I’m afraid she has a bit of a coffee addiction.”
“I’m not deaf, you know.” This time, MJ looked at me. “You should be ashamed of yourself, putting your mother into a place like this. I’ve lived here for years, and it never gets any better.”
“Now, MJ, you just moved in less than six months ago. You were in that home in Oregon before, remember?” Tess put a hand on the woman’s arm. “We believe in reality theory in the open wards. Once they move into the higher care area, we let them have their fantasy world.”
MJ shook her head. “There, or here, it’s all the same. Where’s that child with my coffee? I need to finish my book. People need to know about the conspiracy, and I’m not getting any younger.”
The aide came back into the room with the coffee cup a
nd a bouquet of carnations. “Look what I found at the front desk for you. Do you want them here or in your room?”
MJ took her coffee and waved the flowers away. “Take those to the room. That man needs to stop sending me crap like this. He knows I’ll never marry him. I can’t be chained to a white picket fence, birth his babies, and raise the stupid sheepdog. I’m a free spirit.”
The aide smiled and left the room with the flowers.
Tess waited for MJ to return to her table and take a deep sip of her coffee. Then she opened the notebook and started writing again. “Her boyfriend visits every week and sends flowers. I guess he’s been her only family for years. He’s such a nice man. A bit eccentric with his clothing and hair choices, but this is California. You expect to see aging hippies, right?”
The rest of the tour I kept thinking about Austin and his real life. How long had he been living under the new name, caring for this woman who had no idea what year it was or how old she’d become? Tess must have sensed my distance because she steered us to her office to get a folder.
“I know it can all be overwhelming. Why don’t you come back later this week and have lunch on us? We can talk more then.” She handed me the folder. “In the meantime, read up on the industry, and I’m sure you’ll agree that Resting Acres is the best placement you could make for your loved one.”
We said our good-byes, and when Aunt Jackie and I got back into the car, she opened the folder and stared at the picture. Then she handed it to me. “It’s the same woman, right?”
I looked at the younger, smiling Austin and the woman we’d just met. “Almost fifty years later, but yeah, that’s MJ.”
I let the car sit idling for a while. “I’m not sure what to do next. We may know why Austin was hiding, but all it means is he might not have been involved in the bombing. Of course, MJ is the only one who can verify that, and her testimony would be a little dicey.”
“Let’s just find out if Austin is the boyfriend first. Don’t you know the florist in town?” My aunt stared out at the entrance to the facility. “Seriously, if I get that bad, don’t put me in a place like that.”
“You want me to hire cute cabana boys to watch over you?” I smiled and put the Jeep into gear, thankful for a direction. I was going to have to confess my investigating sins to Greg, but not quite yet.
“Actually, I’m thinking a cruise ship. I read an article about a woman who is living on one as her retirement home. I could do that easy. Maybe I could get a job running the senior social hours to help pay for my stays.” My aunt shrugged. “It’s as good a retirement plan as any, I guess.”
“I just hope you don’t take off too soon.” I squeezed her arm. “I don’t know what I’d do without you at the shop now. I’d be a mess in a month.”
She sniffed. “I’d give you a week before you’d be begging me to come back. Are you still thinking about taking those business classes? I think you need to consider expanding your knowledge about the business world.”
I had thought about taking some classes at the local community college, but I’d put it off in favor of spending more time on my deck with Greg. “Honestly, I haven’t done anything. I’ve missed the spring semester, but I’ll get registered for fall. As long as they’re night classes, my time’s free.”
“Speaking of nights, can you take my shift on Friday again? I’ll work your morning shift on Saturday so you can have the entire day off.” My aunt turned her head away from me, but I could see a slight tinge of pink on her cheek.
“You have plans for Friday, again?” I kept my head facing forward, but tried to gauge my aunt’s response.
“Fine. Yes, Harrold asked me out again. There’s a traveling show in the city and the last night they’ll be there is Friday. We tried to get in tonight, but the theater is dark on Mondays.” She turned toward me. “Is it a problem for you to work? I could ask Sasha, but I think she’s got midterms this week.”
“Not a problem at all. Greg will probably still be tied up with this investigation.” Especially when I gave him the information that I’d uncovered. He’d have to talk to the nursing home people. I only hoped Tess wouldn’t be too disappointed that our imaginary relative wasn’t moving in. Did they get commissions like used car salesmen? Five admissions in a month and they earned a trip to Mexico? “And I’ll be expecting Josh to show up at closing. What should I tell him?”
“I don’t have to explain my life or my choices to that man.” She crossed her arms.
“Yeah, but I do. So if you don’t want me to use the ‘she’s too sick to work’ excuse like I did last week, I need something to tell him.” I parked in front of the florist. “You think about what you want me to say, and I’ll pop in to the florist shop to see Allison. Then we’ll eat over at that new Asian Fusion place near the Pet Palace.”
“I suppose you need something for that mutt of yours.” Her words were harsher than her tone. “You might want to get her more tennis balls, too. The ones she has are disgusting.” She took a book out of her purse. An autobiography of another ex–First Lady; my aunt had a taste for the political life, even if it was just reading about those involved in the national game.
I left the stereo on and my keys in the ignition in case she needed to turn on the air or roll down a window.
Allison Delaine was in the front of the shop, a tiny vase of purple flowers, pansies, and violets partially completed on the counter. She smiled when I opened the door and its chime announced my entrance. “Jill, I haven’t seen you in forever. Is this a personal call, or are you here on committee business?”
Allison was my Bakerstown counterpart for the Business-to-Business meeting. Of course, they called it “Bakerstown’s Open for Business,” which I thought was a little cutesy. Of course, my committee’s name could be seen as a little dry. But then, I named my shop Coffee, Books, and More—which demonstrated how I liked names to reflect what was sold in the place. Or the purpose of the committee. Some days, I’d wished I’d thought a little longer and named the shop something cute, like The Human Bean, or A Cup of Stories, but at that point I already had branding stuff done up for CBM.
I made my way through the potted plants, taking in the strong floral smell, which always seemed a little cold to my senses. “Hey, Allison. This is pretty.” I touched a petal on a pansy. “Actually, I’m here to ask you a favor, but I don’t know if you can tell me or not.”
“You want to know who sent a bouquet of flowers, right?” She laughed at my shocked face. “Cards get lost, and it’s not like I’m a doctor or lawyer. There’s no expectation of privacy.” She turned to her computer. “However, I don’t remember having a delivery sent to you this week. I sent two batches of flowers to your aunt. Is that what you’re asking about?”
“Two batches?” Aunt Jackie had told me that Josh had sent flowers, but had Harrold sent the others?
“Yeah, it was weird. One had a Get Well Soon card, and the other was a thanks for the great evening message.” Allison raised her eyebrows. “Your aunt is a popular girl.”
“Always,” I said. “Anyway, it’s not about Jackie’s flowers, or mine. I wanted to know who’s been sending flowers to Resting Acres. It’s a recurring order to a woman named MJ?”
“Carnations.” Allison nodded, tapping on her keyboard. “I bill monthly, but I’ve had the standing order for the last six months.”
I waited as she pulled up the right record.
“Here it is.” She squinted at me. “This is odd. The order’s from South Cove, a Dustin Austin? Do you know him?”
I nodded. “Thanks. That’s what I thought.”
“Is something wrong?” Allison watched me closely. “Don’t tell me you’re seeing someone else. I thought you were dating that cute detective.”
“I am. No, this is for a friend.” I tapped on the counter. “Got to go, I’m taking Aunt Jackie to lunch and she gets grumpy when she’s hungry.”
“Call me and we’ll do coffee next week. It’s been too long since we�
��ve talked.” Allison waved and turned back to her floral arrangement. That had been too easy. Now I had to find a way to tell Greg the information I’d discovered without him getting upset.
Or I could just bite the bullet and drop into the station after I dropped off Aunt Jackie.
Driving to the restaurant, I decided that this could wait until morning. After my shift, I’d stop by the station with a cheesecake for the gang and then tell Greg what I knew. After he’d seen the cheesecake.
CHAPTER 13
I hadn’t slept well, my mind kicking around the Austin files and what I suspected would be Greg’s reaction when he found out that Jackie and I had gone sleuthing. I snorted as I sipped my coffee and read a magazine article on ways to make your kitchen sparkle for under two hundred bucks. The next house project was the exercise room, which would be either upstairs or out in Miss Emily’s painting shed. The shed had a lot more room, as Greg kept pointing out, but my fear was I’d never actually make it the twenty steps to work out.
Emma put her nose into my hand and nuzzled. I looked down into my dog’s brown eyes and she barked once, then pointedly glanced at the door. I checked the wall clock. We had plenty of time. “Hold on, let me get changed.”
I headed upstairs to change into my running clothes. The only way Emma would push me out the door to use a workout room was if she had a bag of bones hidden behind the weight bars. I considered Greg’s attachment to it—maybe I could give in there and he wouldn’t be as upset about the sleuthing. I shook my head. I was going to get a lecture this morning no matter what and I might as well get it over with.
Right now, though, Emma and I had a date with the seagulls. And maybe, if she was lucky and I wasn’t alert, a dead fish.
Sasha was sitting at one of the outside tables when I finally arrived at the shop. I smiled as she tucked her book into her bag; she was hooked on historical romance, although with her schoolwork and the two book clubs she ran for the store, she hardly had any free time. However, the girl still got through a book a week for her own pleasure. I was amazed. Dressed in a patterned dress and tennis shoes, her hair tied up with a headband, she looked more like a college student with a part-time job than a single mom trying to make ends meet.
