by Kieran York
Royce guessed, “Then they hit the mother lode. He opened the Center.”
“Lots between that. They found some big money. Dr. Melvin Verner. He’d become rich when Crystal became the huge ski resort. He apparently chucked some money into the Silver Wilderness Center. As they experience growth, he decided to spend half a day, Monday through Friday, working at the Center.”
“He put money in?” Royce asked.
“A sizable amount of money. But he has made it back. As I understand it, he spends mornings at the new hospital in Crystal. He has a fancy mansion in Crystal, and a fancy wife. But he spends his weekday afternoons at Silver Wilderness Center. So he’s cleaning up by charging patients when he calls in on them. He and Eileen are partners.”
“Where did that leave Larry?”
“An owner of the property. He wants nothing to do with the business. He’s able to play. He skis, tracks, hunts, fishes, plays outdoorsman, and once in a while he acts as handyman at the center.”
“And,” Royce inserted, “if we are to believe the scene Daisy described, he is also a strong arm of disciplining rowdy patients. I’ve heard that Alzheimer’s patients are sometimes difficult. They’ve got orderlies, but I’m guessing Larry enjoys fisticuffs. He’s a bouncer.”
“Undoubtedly that would suit Larry Austin. He was such a jerk when he was growing up.” Gwen shook her head recalling back. “He was a couple years younger than I was, but I remember he was the biggest loudmouth in his class. A bully.”
“If you find out anything more, please let me know.”
“Check with your gran about Larry. I think there was a confrontation between him and your father. Even back in those days, your father was the enforcer protecting smaller, younger kids.”
Royce felt the pang of losing her father. In the last twenty years, that seemed always to be there. The love for Grady Madison remained solid. But then, the entire county loved Grady. Other than the bullies and criminals.
Patting the side of her leg, she murmured, “Come on, Chance. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”
Chapter 3
Undersheriff Nick Hogan and Deputy Terry Doyle had dropped off some reports at the Timber County Court House. They called to Royce as she crossed the street, walking toward the parking lot. The newly built Justice Center housed the Sheriff’s Department, and the D.A.’s office. That building was built to abut the old Timber County Court House.
Royce grinned at them. “Taking the afternoon off?” she teased.
“Look, boss,” Terry said, “You know I’d rather be sharing a squad car with Chance, than with these two.”
“I’m headed over to the Silver Wilderness Center. You can come with me if you want. While I’m inside getting information from the administrator, you can give Chance some exercise on the range,” Royce offered.
“I’m in. Gladly,” Terry said. To Chance she chattered, “We’re getting some recess time, you sweet pup.” Chance’s tail swung. “That’s right.”
“Why don’t you wait for us in my vehicle,” Royce suggested to Terry. “I’ll be right there.”
When Terry left, Nick scratched his thinning curly hair. His dark eyes were part of his handsomeness. Although he seemed somewhat paunchy, he was athletic. At forty, he exercised religiously on a regular basis. He asked Royce, “Are you still thinking they’ve got some problems out there?”
“I do, Nick. I know they were good to your father. But there are different circumstances in the cases. We need to find Seth Egan.”
Nick offered, “I saw Seth Egan a few times. He owned one of Crystal’s finest homes. When he lived in New York, he only visited Crystal a few times a year, max. After his retirement, he returned. I heard he ran one of those dicey financial institutions. When it crashed, he lost everything. He didn’t do much jail time, but many people thought he should have.”
“He did save his home in Crystal?”
“I’m not sure. I know he was living in it. Maybe it had been in his wife’s name. Everyone around here knows his story. Some believe he socked away some additional money. Royce, he definitely has his detractors. After all this time, there are people that probably still wanting retribution. He was a pain before he retired, and according to the Silver Wilderness staff, that was an attribute he never got over.”
“So, they get a holiday every time he goes missing?”
Nick chuckled. “That’s about the size of it. The guy is big and tall. He still has fighting strength. It took two deputies to deliver him back to the home after one of his escapes.”
“It doesn’t sound as if he’s a pleasant person.”
“Nope. Arrogant. Well, you know the type. Filthy rich.” Nick’s eyes squinted. “Those Wall Street money managing companies were nothing but legalized crooks. That takes tearing down any ethics you have so you can become rich. But his family had money before he went to New York.” Nick snickered, “I’m amazed he didn’t go into politics. He’s a blusterer.”
Royce spurt a laugh. “He probably would have been successful.” She paused. “I wonder why he went into the Center.”
“I talked with one of the staff, Supervisor Rhoda Smith, and she said that he was experiencing a palsy condition, and a mild dementia. At times he seemed fine, or at least more like his horse’s arse self. At other times, he was incoherent and violent. Mean spirited, is how she described him.”
“Who checked him into the Center?” Royce inquired.
“He has a couple living in his home. I guess Seth was suffering from his palsy condition, and he fell. They called Dr. Verner. He had an ambulance take him to Silver Wilderness.”
“I wonder why they didn’t take him to Crystal Hospital.”
Nick shrugged. “Doctor’s decision. The Center probably took over guardianship.”
“Doctor Verner owns half of Silver Wilderness.” Royce felt a pang of remorse. “I’m getting jaded. I used to be so trusting.”
“Royce, this profession changes us. When we were youngsters starting out, we didn’t know how diabolically crass humanity could be. The viciousness. But we need to keep our spirits up.” He teased, “You’d better take Deputy Sunshine on your rounds with you today.”
“Maybe I can get Terry to tell me some of her Irish jokes.” Royce turned, “Meanwhile, I’d better get going.”
“Royce, do we know where Daisy Barnaby is?”
“She’s safe.” Royce turned back to Nick. “And will be kept secure. We can turn our attention to locating Seth.”
“Royce, I’m not sure about this. From what I’ve heard, Seth Egan wanders away on a regular basis. Twice this summer we’ve sent teams after him.”
“There’s obviously a reason why he wants to escape from the home.”
“I hope we’re not infringing on their ability to do their jobs. I know you think the Center is fishy as a trout pond, but we haven’t had complaints.”
Royce knew her face was becoming red. “Nick, we can’t take a chance. The people out there are captives because of their conditions. If they’re being mistreated, that’s a problem. I’m going to run the staff for warrants.”
“That’s a little melodramatic. I was there. Beverly was there, and many of our friends. No one saw anything out of line. I don’t want their reputation ruined by speculation.”
“I don’t either, but we’ve got to investigate it. Look, I’m on my way up there now. We can talk later. Have everyone keep a lookout for Seth. He might have hitched a ride back to Crystal.”
When Royce got to her SUV, she saw Terry giving Chance attention. “At the Center’s back property, we’ve had Chance search for cadavers, and for Seth, but if you want to go over more of the south side of the range, you might come up with something. Chance loves to search.”
Terry nodded. “Will do. You think they’re shady out there?”
As Royce drove, she felt an unsettling emotion. She knew that Nick questioned her investigation of Silver Wilderness Center. Now, she also wondered if Terry thought it was a wast
e of time and effort. “I think that there is something off about it. We have Daisy’s side, and her cousin’s son, the witness that might be able to provide some light on the transaction. He hasn’t been answering his phone.”
“Where does Daisy’s relative live?”
“Los Angeles. We’ve left messages. It was only a few weeks ago Daisy went into the center. Two weeks ago, Rick Durant showed up, signed the papers. And now he’s missing.”
“Sooner or later he’ll appear.”
Royce hoped so. “Terry, last time we talked you said your parents were concerned about you’re being a deputy. Is it getting better?”
“Not really. I can’t blame them. We lost my twin brother in combat. That had to impact them. I told them it’s safe up here. They don’t believe me.”
“Terry, I understand how they feel. I’m not certain it can get better. My mother is still terrified because my father was murdered when he was on duty. And I also understand why you want to be a deputy.”
Terry blurted, “Royce, I want to be a deputy so one day I can be sheriff.”
Together they laughed as Royce pulled her vehicle onto the Silver Wilderness Center’s driveway toward the entrance. She parked, and watched Terry taking Chance in the direction of the Range. Chance’s long legs lifting her into the air as she bounded across the field. Terry’s laugh was heard as she followed Chance. The sheriff wasn’t certain if the young woman or the young German shepherd was having the best time.
Terry Doyle was an exemplary deputy. Her light brown curly hair bobbed as she chased after Chance. At about five foot-five, and fit, she enjoyed the outdoors. Her medium complexion and brown eyes seemed to deepen in color during the summer. Royce smiled. She was happy to hear that Deputy Doyle had the same kind of aspirations that Royce had when she was that age. Royce vowed to encourage her.
***
Royce didn’t want to face Eileen Austin’s cloyingly sweet side, nor did she want to see the flashing brown eyes searing with anger.
Certain that Administrator Eileen Austin was making it a point to keep Royce waiting, the sheriff made a few phones calls on her cell phone. When Eileen appeared, she ushered Royce into her office. “Have you located Daisy Barnaby?” Eileen sat, and placed her hands firmly on the desk.
“I’m awaiting your attorney’s call.” Royce sat in a small, uncomfortable chair across from Eileen.
Eileen’s charm turned on and off like a spigot. Her fake cordiality was on tap. “You do understand that it would be best if the two of us come to an agreement. There’s a perfectly reasonable solution.”
“That being?”
“I can easily explain. First, you should know about the Silver Wilderness Center. We are a care facility. Short-term and long-term care. I like that term, because we do care.” Eileen’s smile was pure sugar. “We pride ourselves on being a trifecta of care. We offer both nursing home, and assisted living. It depends on the skill-level required. Secondly, we offer an excellent rehabilitation center. And thirdly, our services expand to a compassionate end-stage hospice. There is no need for intervention.”
“I take it that you considered Daisy part of your nursing home crowd.” Royce’s words were sarcastic.
“Miss Barnaby was being cared for in the same context as some of our Alzheimer patients. We tended to her needs. She often slipped into a memory issue status.”
“She was being drugged into a state of oblivion.”
“Corrections, Sheriff. She was medicated to be manageable. When she entered, she was unmanageable. For her own protection, and the staff’s protection, she was tranquilized.”
“Exactly what were the circumstances of her coming here?”
“Well, as you know the house in question…”
“Daisy’s home?”
“The house in question.” Eileen took a deep sigh. “The house is right across the range land from our Center. Someone reported that they found her on the ground. We were the nearest medically equipped facility. Dr. Verner works here, and also at the Crystal Hospital. We are fully staffed. It was logical that she was brought to us. We found her to be dehydrated. We treated her. However, she didn’t mentally respond.”
“And you kept her here?”
“Yes. We were in touch with her only relative, Rick Durant. Mr. Durant came here, and after seeing her, he agreed she was in need of assistance. He signed the agreement. Contract.”
“Plenty amazing,” Royce said. Her words were laced with disbelief. “And you took over her home?”
“That is one of our programs. We simply offer to take over the patient’s financial liabilities, including all future obligations. We sell properties, and put those proceeds into bank funds to be drawn from each month. You can’t run a facility like this without money. The contract with Mr. Durant, states that Silver Wilderness takes control of her assets and has power of attorney. This is overseen by the same conservatorship as all other assisted living facilities. It is costly. We agree to take on the complete support of the patient. We charge between $4500 and several thousands of dollars a month. Depending upon the care required. You see the complexes we’ve built. The staff we hire. We insist on the best treatment. And that takes money. At any rate, when a patient expires, the beneficiary of their will, which would be Mr. Durant, receives the remainder of the funds. If the expenses exceed the original agreement, the Center picks up the tab.”
“Have there been patients that left you with the tab.”
Irritated, Eileen glared directly at the sheriff. “There have been. You see, people of this generation often can’t care for elderly parents. They haven’t time, nor do they have experience. Many are often more than happy to place their loved ones in a home. In the trade it is known as warehousing the elderly. We do what the family cannot or will not do. We are doing the community a great service.” Her scorn was visible. She added, “It is usually the family exploiting the funds.”
Royce’s glare matched Eileen’s. “I’ll be looking forward to meeting with your attorney, and your financial team.”
“Now, our business is concluded,” she smugly said, as she stood. Her words were starched, and said as if she was tamping her temper.
Royce remained seated. “Not completely concluded. I also have questions about the disappearance of Seth Egan.”
“Seth Egan!” she repeated. Her hands were balled up as she sat. “He has still not returned. We understand that the Sheriff’s Department is searching for him. He has wandered away from here multiple times. That is all I know about his disappearance.”
“I believe the night he went missing there was an altercation.”
“Now you’re accusing us of a crime?”
“I’m attempting to find a missing man. There was a fight prior to the last time he was seen. I’m asking you what the altercation was about.”
“I have no idea. Seth Egan could be a handful. He was a trouble-maker. I believe my husband, Larry, tried to calm him and return him to his room. He called for backup and our director assisted in getting Mr. Egan under control.”
“Alec Zellner.”
“Yes, Alec. His office is on the second floor. If he isn’t busy, perhaps you could find out any details from him.” Eileen walked to the door. “I’ve got a full agenda today, and really must ask you to leave.”
“I’ve got to address two cases. A missing man and a mistreated woman.” Royce walked to the door, then turned to face Eileen. “I’ll be seeing you again.”
She heard the door slam behind her. Royce enjoyed it when she irritated someone she was interviewing. Innocent people seldom got upset at enforcers.
***
Director Alec Zellner had left the building. Royce made a notation to try again – soon. Perhaps one of the staff had warned him that Royce was wanting to chat with him. Royce and Terry arrived back at the Sheriff’s Department to find a stack of phone calls awaited the sheriff’s return. After finishing the catch-up work, Royce took five minutes to close her eyes and consider what sh
e knew, and what she didn’t know.
She calculated the reasons why Seth and Miss Daisy had ‘wandered off’ from the home. Daisy believed that Seth had been harmed, and what she had seen in the corridor set her up for being forever drugged, or harmed. She had good instincts. As a teacher, she couldn’t have faked knowledge, or confidence. Royce recalled that her teacher knew exactly what she knew. And when she didn’t have an answer for students, she would tell them she didn’t know the answer, and would find the answer and report back to her class. Her mental recall was always brilliant, as was her verity.
If she felt threatened by what she had seen, she undoubtedly had reason to be frightened.
Royce motioned to Chance. “Come on, girl. Let’s go find our confidential informant.” Plato Wallace was a derelict. He fancied himself the sheriff’s Confidential Informant. With a potbelly and slow plot, he dressed with a derelict’s rumpled disorder. He wore western attire, with a crumpled hat. In his seventies, his skin was darkly tan, and leathered. Hard living had made his appearance older. With tobacco-stained teeth and fingers, he was also usually mildly inebriated. He knew nearly everyone in Timber City.
As sheriff and shepherd rounded the corner, Royce spotted Plato Wallace. She gave him a wave, then walked down the alley toward where he was leaning against the building.
“Hey, Royce, I hear you’re lookin’ for Seth.”
