Chapter Sixteen

I now understood why Heather had been so confident Wilson wouldn’t have called to threaten me. This also explained why Zinnia had information I hadn’t told Wilson. Heather must have given her lover some details of my investigation, and he’d let something slip to his granddaughter.

None of this meant either of them was involved in anything illegal. Still, I’d call Heather on her deceit and see what she had to say.

Mackenzie texted: Orders?

I replied: Gyro, extra tzatziki.

I couldn’t think of any instructions for her, so I added. Kidding. Enjoy lunch.

She sent me a thumbs-up icon.

Thoughts of lunch made my stomach rumble, but I wasn’t about to leave my post. I sighed and made notes on what I’d learned that morning. Several people came and went, often giving me a curious glance since my chair was in an odd position. The Gregorians escorted their mother to her room and left the building. The son-in-law gave me a frowning nod as he passed.

I looked back over my notes and marked a few highlights. I needed to talk to Heather, both about her actions and about Mendelson. I’d almost forgotten Zinnia’s comments about the family of the most recent victim, Brit Egland. Zinnia said Brit’s grandson, Ryan, had a stepfather who had been at Sunshine Haven, asked questions about the place, and was creepy. That might be worth exploring.

I’d been ready to absolve family members from blame, since they didn’t seem to have a reason to hurt more than one patient, and an employee seemed a more likely culprit when it came to over medication and extortion. But if I couldn’t figure out how all these things were connected, maybe they weren’t. Maybe some of it was coincidence, or multiple villains were at work. I’d have to follow every thread until I knew how they fit into the larger tapestry and hope the result didn’t look like a Cubist Picasso painting when I finished.

Two attendants headed down the hallway of the Alzheimer’s unit, pushing a cart filled with covered dishes.

“Who are they?” I asked Carla.

“Food services, delivering the lunches.”

“Do these same two people bring the lunches every Sunday?”

“I think it varies. Some people need more help with their food, or need to be coaxed to eat, so the volunteers help, and the nurse, if she’s not busy.”

Before Carla finished speaking, an attendant I recognized but couldn’t name headed down the hall, along with Zinnia, who waved at me.

Food would be a good way to give someone poison, but having two employees delivering food together made it harder, unless they were both involved. That seemed unlikely, and the number of other employees, volunteers, and family members around heightened the risks, especially on a Sunday. Still, I wandered down the hallway and watched people work. One of the food services employees was a tall, thin, dark-skinned man, possibly Ethiopian. The other was a plump, middle-aged woman from Mexico, judging by her accent. They smiled and chatted with the patients, pretending the bland, soft food was gourmet.

In the first room, a family member took over. Zinnia settled in with the next patient, encouraging her to eat. I made a note of who stayed with which patient, in case someone got ill that night.

I checked in with Mom and Dad. She dozed on the bed while he watched her with tired eyes.

“Everything okay?” I whispered.

He nodded as he got up. We stood in the hallway and kept our voices low.

“The Washingtons are on their way,” he said. “I asked them to bring us lunch.”

“Wonderful. The employees are delivering meals now. Do we let Mom eat that food?”

We looked at each other for a while.

Dad sighed. “I’d rather not, but how long can we keep this up? And what about the other residents?”

“I know. I don’t see how we can tell everyone they shouldn’t eat the cafeteria food. I’m hoping our presence will discourage the killer from acting, but will he simply wait until tomorrow? We don’t know if the Sunday pattern is an obsession, a matter of convenience, or a coincidence.”

“Every day he has to wait is a day where we can learn something,” Dad said. “Our best bet is to find out what’s happening as soon as possible.”

“You’re right.” I gazed through the doorway at Mom. My chest tightened so much I could hardly breathe. I wasn’t ready to lose her. We had to solve this quickly, or get her out of here, which would open up a host of new problems.

I looked at Dad again. “After lunch, I’m going to follow another lead. I’ll be more useful doing that.”

“Absolutely. Can I do anything to help?”

How could I get Ryan and Lisa Delacruz to talk about the mysterious and unpleasant man in their lives? Lisa claimed no one else lived there, and her anxiety and timidity suggested someone afraid, possibly abused. Ryan had been quiet in a way that could have been interpreted as sullen, depressed, or merely an average teenager. I needed a way to get one of them to open up.

“Do you know where I could borrow a cool sports car?”

An hour later, I’d eaten a burrito, Joe had taken over hallway monitoring duty, and Simon had delivered his electric-blue 1967 Camaro convertible. Marty and Simon would follow up on our remaining short list of employee suspects: nursing assistant Ana Marija Jurić and attendant Maximilian Richards. This plan had required giving all the Washingtons more information about the real situation, but that seemed like the best option since we’d gone from a vague possibility of trouble to a solid probability.

I was still half tempted to call the police. However, the CSI programs showing several top detectives and forensic scientists spending all their energy on one case were misleading. Most police departments were understaffed, and most police officers had received less than a year of training before starting their jobs. We still didn’t have proof that someone had been murdered. An autopsy might answer that, but the police wouldn’t do one simply because we asked. If the bodies had been buried, arranging for exhumation would be complicated and time-consuming. And if they’d been cremated, we were out of luck.

In the short term, at best we might hope the police could spare an officer to watch the hallway. We could do that ourselves, with less disruption to Sunshine Haven. If the police questioned people, it would be upsetting for the surviving family members, stressful for employees, and disastrous for the home’s reputation. Reluctantly, I decided to wait one more day and try to persuade Heather to call in the authorities. She could tell her board members what was happening, and it would be better for Sunshine Haven’s reputation if someone on staff reported the problem, not an outsider.

Mackenzie followed Heather back to Phoenix. I debated bringing Mackenzie with me to visit the Delacruz house, but a young, beautiful girl might do more harm than good when trying to get Ryan to talk. I wanted him relaxed and chatty, not bug-eyed and tongue-tied. If Heather went home and seemed ready to stay there, Mackenzie could start a deep background check on Norman Mendelson. Maybe I was letting my dislike for him bias me, but I wanted to find him guilty of something.

I managed the stick shift and clutch despite the ache in my left leg and pulled up to the Delacruz house about 2 p.m. On a Sunday afternoon, a lot of teens might be out with friends or playing school sports. But based on what Zinnia had said, Ryan was a loner. I parked in front of the house and headed up the walk. Would I be able to talk to Ryan alone? As uncommunicative as a surly teen could be, he’d be more likely to complain about his stepfather. Lisa might prevent Ryan from sharing family secrets.

I knocked on the door and Ryan answered a minute later. He stared at me blankly before recognition dawned in his eyes. “Mom’s not here.”

Excellent.

“Too bad. I was hoping to catch her.” I shifted my body to the side to give him a clear view of the Camaro. “Oh well, it was a nice day for a drive with the top down.”

I gestured toward the car.

His gaze slid past me and his eyes widened. “That’s yours?” He took two steps out the door.

“Sixty-seven Camaro. Pretty nice, huh?”

He headed for the car as if pulled by an invisible rope, and we spent ten minutes circling it. I knew next to nothing about cars, but Simon had given me a few key phrases. I managed to carry on a conversation with those, murmurs of agreement, and occasional vague responses such as, “What do you think?” We even popped the hood, and Ryan nodded at the engine, though I couldn’t tell if he knew any more than I did.

“Feel free to sit in the driver’s seat,” I said.

His wide-eyed look was half-reluctant, like he thought he shouldn’t, but the temptation was too much to resist. He slid into the seat and caressed the steering wheel.

I limped around the car and climbed in on the passenger’s side, settling the cane so it stuck up between my knees. Nothing would seem as nonthreatening to a teenage boy as a middle-aged lady with a limp. I tried not to sneeze at the too-strong smell of his manly body spray.

I slipped on sunglasses and leaned back, oozing relaxation and harmlessness. “You have a car?”

“Nah. We only have my mom’s piece of sh—junk. But I know how to drive.” He sighed. “I’d like to drive a car like this someday.” He wasn’t asking. He wasn’t even hoping. He spoke with the wistfulness of someone who knew dreams didn’t come true.

I wanted to hand him the keys.

Simon might not be happy about me letting a teenager drive his prize possession, so I merely said, “I guess it’s hard to afford a second car.”

“Yeah. I’ll probably be thirty before I get my own.” The despair in his voice suggested thirty might as well be a hundred.

I avoided looking directly at him and kept my voice casual. “Oh, right, your mom mentioned something . . . I remember. You two lost any inheritance you might have had from your grandmother when she went into Sunshine Haven. Too bad.”

He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “It’s not like Grandma was rich. And it was her money anyway. But I wish . . .”

“Hmm?”

He sighed again. “She always wanted to visit Europe, where her ancestors were from. We could have gone together. I would’ve taken care of her, but she waited too long.”

“You two were close.”

He ran his hands over the steering wheel, up and down, and gazed at the dashboard as if talking to it. “My dad died when I was six. He was an army sharpshooter. Mom kind of fell apart. Grandma picked me up at school every day, did the shopping, cooked meals, read me stories. I don’t remember my father very well, but I remember Grandma making everything better.”

“You were lucky to have her.” A fragile bond stretched between us. I needed to turn the conversation in the right direction without breaking the mood. “I’m sorry she was taken from you so early. It must’ve been hard visiting her lately, what with the Alzheimer’s.”

“She talked to me like I was still a little kid. But I didn’t mind, really. At least she knew who I was.”

“She was lucky to have you as well. Now it’s only you and your mother here . . .”

He nodded. If he had a stepfather, either the man wasn’t living with them, or Ryan and his mother were hiding it.

“Oh, by the way, I met a friend of yours,” I said.

His look suggested I was speaking a foreign language.

“Zinnia,” I said. “I’m not sure of her last name, but please tell me you don’t have a lot of classmates named Zinnia.”

He gave me a ghost of a smile. “No, only one. She’s not really my friend, though.”

“Maybe not, but I think she’d like to be.”

“Really?” The smile was more in evidence, along with pink in his cheeks. “But she’s popular.”

“She’s also nice.”

“How do you know her?” His brow wrinkled.

“You might’ve heard, when I was talking to your mom, I’m working on a story about nursing homes. I met Zinnia at Sunshine Haven. She volunteers there.”

“Why were you talking about me?”

I had to be careful. “We were discussing some of her favorite patients. She was sad about your grandmother. She wanted to offer you her condolences, but she wasn’t sure what to say.”

“That’s right. I saw her there a few times. I didn’t realize she knew Grandma.”

“I think when family members are there, the volunteers spend their time with other patients. I gather your stepfather talked to Zinnia.”

“He’s not my stepfather!”

Now we were getting somewhere. “Oh, sorry. Zinnia wasn’t sure. She said a man came in with you and your mother, but Zinnia didn’t like him much.”

“Good.” He scowled and his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“Was he a family member? He must’ve been pretty close to you to visit your grandmother.”

“He was my mom’s boyfriend. He didn’t care about Grandma, only her money.”

Better and better. “But once your grandmother was in Sunshine Haven, she didn’t have access to most of her money anymore.”

“Sure, but he didn’t know that. He’s such a—a—sorry, I can’t think of any words that I can use in front of you.”

I smiled. “You can use any word in front of me. I don’t mind.”

“Grandma would.”

I was developing a real soft spot for Ryan. Still, I needed to stay on topic. “What was so bad about your mother’s boyfriend?”

He looked at me. “A lot of people think kids don’t like their parents dating. It’s not that. Mom deserves someone great in her life. But Steve is not great.”

“He didn’t treat your mother right?”

Ryan dropped his gaze and turned back toward the steering wheel, shaking his head. “They broke up months ago. He cheated on her, but I don’t think Mom would’ve dumped him even then. Except Mom spent so much time taking care of Grandma, and Steve got tired of it. Then, after Grandma was at Sunshine Haven, Steve came around again. He tried to make up with Mom.”

“He wanted her back?”

“That’s what he said. He tried to act all nice to Grandma and me too, giving us gifts, but only cheap, stupid stuff. When Grandma died, Steve started talking about the inheritance. Mom said there wasn’t any, and he got mad and . . .” Ryan’s voice faded to a whisper. “He hit her.” His hands choked the steering wheel.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” We sat in silence for a minute before I murmured, “Your mother didn’t take Steve back, I gather?”

Ryan let out a long sigh and his shoulders slumped. “I hope she wouldn’t have, but Steve stopped bothering her once he found out there was no money.” He leaned back in the seat, his eyes half closed. He seemed more relaxed, his body drained of a great tension. I almost felt guilty for luring him into giving up confidences, but it seemed like he’d needed to talk to someone for a long time.

Unfortunately, I needed one more piece of information, and I didn’t have a good excuse for asking.

“What’s Steve’s last name?”

Ryan straightened. “Why? You’re not going to write any of this in your story, are you?”

“No, don’t worry. Everything you said was off the record.” I held his gaze. “Ryan, I’m going to be honest with you. I think something is wrong at Sunshine Haven, or was recently. I want to find out what it is.”

He studied me for a minute. “You think my mom’s ex-boyfriend might be involved?”

“I don’t know, but I’d like to check up on him.”

I could practically see the gears turning in Ryan’s brain and wondered how much he was putting together.

He nodded. “Steven Hicks. He’s a mechanic at a shop in Gilbert. And if he’s involved, I hope you catch him and put him away forever.”

“If he is involved, I’ll make sure he pays. Do you know his home address?”

“Sorry. As long as he’s not in our house, I don’t care where he lives.”

“Thanks, Ryan. You’ve been a big help. Maybe we can go for a ride sometime, if we get your mother’s permission.”

He looked hopeful. “She won’t mind.”

“Maybe not, but you should be cautious about getting in a car with someone you barely know.”

His gaze dropped to my cane and then settled on my forty-nine-year-old face. “What could you do to me?”

“Hey, people can be dangerous even if they don’t look it. I might have a gun.”

“Do you?” He sounded more curious than afraid.

“No. But you don’t have proof of that.” I decided not to try to convince him that I might be a martial arts black belt. I knew a woman my age who was, but Ryan might have to see that to believe it, and I was not the person to demonstrate ninja abilities.

He looked at the glove compartment, then my shoulder bag sitting on the floor, places I might have a gun, and shrugged. “I think you’re all right, as long as you don’t tell anyone what I said. But if you want to wait until Mom is here, okay. She’s out shopping so it shouldn’t be too long.”

I chuckled. “Much as I’d like to take you for a drive now, I need to see what I can find out about Steven Hicks. I promise, I’ll come back.” I handed him a business card. “Give me a few days to sort out this thing I’m working on, and then have your mother call me. Maybe next weekend we can all go for a drive.”

“Okay. If you’re going to get Steve in trouble, that comes first.”

He got out of the car, and I came around to the driver’s side. He looked down at me as I sat. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” I needed it.