The air outside Eastwood Manor was cool and sweet with the smell of fresh mowed lawn and sprinklers as Cole made his way to his car. The sun was starting to set, and the breeze of evening had started blowing in from the east. A blast of captured afternoon heat greeted him as he opened the car door. He started the car and hit the switch to roll down all the windows.
“Hey, Mister, hey!”
Cole turned to see a heavyset woman in a white uniform running up the walk towards him.
“Are you Mrs. Christopher’s husband?” she panted.
Cole shut off the engine and got out of the car. “No, is something wrong?” He hadn’t been out of Ellie’s room for more than a minute or two and couldn’t imagine she was having a problem. She had been resting so peacefully.
“Well,” the woman hesitated, “it’s the—”
“What is it, is she all right? What’s the problem?”
“It’s the billing, sir. We haven’t received payment in three months. Are you family? We would really like to get this cleared up.” The woman spoke in rapid bursts almost as if she were reading from note cards.
“No, I am not family, just an old friend. Have you called her husband? Of course you have, I’m sorry, silly question. How can I help?” Cole tried not to show his fury.
“Perhaps you could review what we have in her file. I’m sorry to bother you about this, but Miss Ellie is so sweet and I would hate for us to have to....” The woman looked down at her feet and handed Cole a thick file folder with a blue tab. “This place ain’t the greatest, but the County Hospital is a whole lot worse. Maybe you could see if there’s a mistake somewhere.”
“I’ll do what I can.” Cole gave the woman a thin smile. That rat bastard Christopher had already stopped paying when I saw him, Cole said to himself as the woman turned to go back inside.
The file on Ellen J. Christopher wasn’t very thick. The address and date of birth were correct, and her diagnosis in black and white looked harsh and unsympathetic. Next to “Contact Information,” someone had made a note in the margin: “number changed.” Toward the bottom of the sheet in a bold hand were the words INSURANCE CANCELED in red pen.
The reception Cole got from the woman behind the “Billing and Insurance” counter was a clear signal that money matters were taken very seriously at Eastwood Manor. After several questions, that received sharp, short, unfriendly answers, Cole decided to change his approach.
“When was the last time you heard from her husband?” he said without looking up from the file.
“The day he checked her in,” the woman said curtly from behind the computer monitor. “Everything was fine until about three months ago, then we got notice of her insurance bein’ canceled. Called the husband’s number and it had been disconnected. We have sent a couple of letters, too, but no response. He dumped her. Happens all the time. Usually parents or an old aunt or something, not a wife.”
“So, what happens?” Cole moved to face the woman.
She was thin, about 50 and had eyes with dark circles that were magnified by her thick glasses. Her nametag identified her as “M. Skillings, Office Manager.” She wasn’t mean or particularly nasty, just matter of fact. Her detachment obviously came from too many bills unpaid and too many relatives who didn’t care about those left to their care. Cole knew charm, wit, or heaven above wouldn’t move this woman from her assigned duty.
“We will file papers on the first. That will give her about three, maybe four weeks, and then it’s off to County.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. Unless someone steps forward, pays the back billing, and provides confirmation that payment will be secured for at least 12 months. Her condition is terminal, so the company watches billing pretty closely.”
“Eastwood Manor, First in Care.” Cole read aloud from the brochure on the counter.
“Care isn’t free, sir.”
“Respect for your patients is,” Cole growled from clenched teeth.
“I’m sorry if I have been too frank, sir. I’m only following company procedures.”
“I’m sure you are.” Cole took a deep breath. “Look, this isn’t a pleasant situation for either of us. Give me the forms or whatever it takes and I’ll take care of this. I do not want Ellie bothered about this, do you understand?”
“Of course, sir.” Skillings gave Cole an icy glare as she spun around to a rack of papers behind her. “Fill these out and return them with a cashier’s check for the amount attached.” She shuffled some papers together, slammed the stapler down and handed the papers to Cole. “Since you are not immediate family, we will require a six-month advance on payment.”
Cole turned and left the building.
As he drove downtown, Cole tried to figure out if he had enough money to cover nine months of Ellie’s care. He lived a very simple life and sometimes put his entire check into a savings account. He couldn’t remember the last time he checked the balance and had no idea what he might’ve put away. It didn’t matter; whatever it took, he would pay. So would Christopher.
Diamonds and Cole: Cole Sage Mystery #1 Page 19
