Chapter Eighteen

The truck driver had plenty of room to pass me, but he stayed right behind, crowding me. Hicks seemed like the logical suspect. I couldn’t have upset that many different people this week.

I swore louder and longer. This was his petty, immature way of trying to intimidate me. It almost made me miss Mendelson’s fussy complaints.

I gritted my teeth and tried to stay calm as the truck backed off and rushed forward, again and again. Each time, the engine revved and his front end loomed large in my rearview mirror, I gripped the steering wheel until my fists ached. Traffic picked up as I crossed town, but Hicks stayed too close for me to safely pull in front of another car and get him off my tail.

I didn’t drive often. I wasn’t up for action hero evasive maneuvers. I couldn’t risk an accident, either for my body or for Simon’s car. I could only concentrate on my driving and wish for a police officer.

I didn’t know where to find a police station, and I didn’t want to pull over and possibly be even more vulnerable to Hicks. If he followed me all the way to Sunshine Haven, what would he do when we got there? I didn’t want to hobble across the parking lot, open to vehicular assault.

A strip mall with a grocery store sat next to Sunshine Haven. At the last second, I swung in there. The truck slowed as well and started to turn, but then he swerved back into the lane and sped off. I twisted to see the license plate on the back, but it was already too far away.

In front of the grocery store, I waited for a woman to load her groceries and leave. I had a parking spot close to the main doors, with a constant stream of shoppers walking past. Chances were the grocery store had cameras on the parking lot as well. If Hicks came back, I’d be reasonably safe.

I slumped into my seat with a loud sigh. I was trembling. It hadn’t been the most dangerous situation of my life, but I’d set that bar pretty high.

I could call the police. But I couldn’t prove Hicks had been driving the truck. I hadn’t seen a license plate or his face. I imagined trying to convince the police to check the traffic cameras along our route, in hopes that one had caught Hicks. He hadn’t even caused an accident, so the most they could do was ticket him for reckless driving.

I could barely sit up straight. I didn’t want to waste time and precious energy trying to explain things to the police when they likely wouldn’t do anything.

I pressed my fingertips into my temples. I might be bad at identifying cars, but I could say for sure the vehicle that tried to run me down outside Simon’s store was not a truck. Hicks might have multiple cars or have borrowed one from the shop. But he hadn’t known I was investigating back then.

Ugh. I debated driving over to Sunshine Haven instead of walking the few hundred yards. But Hicks might still be lurking somewhere. Better to leave Simon’s car under constant observation.

I delayed physical activity by calling the Delacruz house. Lisa answered, but I asked for Ryan. Talking to him would require less of an explanation. I warned him to be extra wary about Steve Hicks.

“If he shows up, call the police right away. I tried to leave you and your mother out of it, but it’s possible he thinks you tipped me off.”

Ryan’s voice was low and muffled, as if he was trying to hide his words from his mother. “You think he might want revenge?”

“You know him better than I do, but I wouldn’t take any chances.”

After a long pause, Ryan said, “You know, I think I’ll suggest a picnic in the park. It’s a nice evening and it’ll cheer up Mom to be out of the house.”

“Smart plan.” I almost told him he was a good kid, but what teenager could hear that without eye-rolling embarrassment?

I couldn’t put it off any longer. I dragged myself out of the car and headed across the parking lot, trying to walk smoothly, but my thigh ached. Everything ached, actually. I still had itchy scabs from my fall on the pavement when I’d dodged the speeding car, plus old bruises from that and fresh bruises from the morning’s encounter with the wheelchair and the floor. I’d been home less than a week, and instead of healing, I’d gotten more injuries.

I gritted my teeth and kept moving. Inside the Sunshine Haven lobby, my first stop was for a cup of water so I could take more ibuprofen.

Was this my life now? Constant pain, limited mobility, and not even enough mental stamina to make sense of the story I was tackling? I’d hoped this investigation would help me find my old self. Hah. It was only serving to highlight my limitations: I had a bad leg, a sluggish mind, and a severe case of whining.

I followed the water with coffee, extra vanilla creamer. Coffee might not solve all the world’s problems, but it was cheaper and safer than liquor as a reward for getting through a difficult day.

Marty and Simon weren’t back yet, but Joe Washington had hallway duty, and I found Dad in Mom’s room. I tried to focus on enjoying her company. And staying awake.

Simon and Marty returned about 5 p.m. The moment Simon saw me, he said, “My car isn’t out front. How was it? No problems?”

“Not really. Except for that funny sound it made when I tried to shift, but that was probably my fault. And I didn’t scratch it very badly when I bumped that post.”

His eyes widened and he whimpered.

I chuckled. “Relax. I’m kidding. It’s a beautiful car, drives like a dream, and against all odds, it’s in the same condition as when you gave it to me. I parked in front of the grocery store down the block for its own safety.”

“I’d hate you, but I’m too relieved right now. Did the Camaro work? That is, did it do what you were hoping?”

“Perfectly. The way to a teen boy’s heart is through a sports car. I’ll tell you about it after they serve the patients dinner.”

We all wandered the halls, keeping a close eye on everything and everybody. I didn’t expect Steven Hicks to show up, but if someone else were poisoning patients, this would be the prime time for them to act.

The same two people who had served lunch also served dinner. A nurse supervised the evening medications. We couldn’t tell if she gave patients the right pills, or the right doses, but she didn’t react to being observed. We got some puzzled looks, but no one complained about our presence. Family members had a right to make sure their loved ones were getting proper care, and Sunshine Haven was still trying to rebuild trust after their earlier public-relations disaster.

Most of the staff left by 7 p.m. A young Hispanic man took over the reception desk and focused on his nursing homework. The patients who weren’t already asleep were watching TV, reading, or knitting in their rooms.

Mackenzie brought two takeout pizzas. Brit Egland’s former room was still empty, so we gathered in there to eat dinner and share news. The wind rustled branches against the window. Outside lights made the grassy yard as bright as day. I settled on the uncovered bed, Dad stood in the doorway to keep an eye on the hallway, and the others perched where they could.

“Did anything happen while we were gone?” Marty asked.

Dad glanced back into the room. “Nothing suspicious. If anyone gets sick tonight, we’ll have a record of who was in each room.”

“Good,” Marty said. “Simon and I didn’t find anything helpful.”

I swallowed a bite of pizza. “What did you do?”

“We followed Maximilian Richards to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting.” Marty gestured for Simon to take over.

“I asked if I could sit in and listen,” he said. “I’m sure they assumed I needed help and wasn’t ready to admit it, but I didn’t have to lie.”

“Do you think Richards is clean?” I asked.

Simon nodded. “One of the other guys was on probation. He needed to get something signed to prove he’d been there. He was rolling his eyes, snickering, obviously not into it. Max talked about the steps he’s been taking to make amends and got choked up at one point. If he was acting, he’s an amazing performer.”

“No reason for him to fake it,” I said. “He didn’t know why you were there. If he was only attending because of a court order, he could’ve coasted through the meeting.”

“Right. He’s trying to turn his life around. He said Sunshine Haven inspired him, because he sees what other people go through, and he stopped feeling sorry for himself. Now he wants to help people.”

“That looks like a dead end, and I’m glad for him,” I said. “What about Ana Marija Jurić?”

Marty put down her pizza and patted her mouth with a napkin. “After I dropped off Simon, I tracked down Ana Marija in the grocery store. Thank goodness for social media and people who think the world wants to know about their plans to buy ice cream because Safeway is having a sale. I managed to bump into her there. Literally, I crashed my cart into hers but made it look like an accident. I apologized and we got chatting. I insisted on buying her a cup of coffee at the Starbucks in the store as an apology.”

“Nice work.”

“I asked where she was from—a natural question because of her accent—and we talked about immigration. She’s been meeting with a lawyer and thinks she’ll get her work visa extended and eventually become a citizen. We always need more nurses. She’s a nursing assistant here, but she was a full-fledged nurse in Bosnia.”

“She sounds legit,” I said.

“It’s been hard, trying to learn English and get through all the red tape, and she’s hurt by the anti-immigrant talk. But she lived through much worse, including ethnic cleansing and war, in Bosnia.”

“Another suspect off our list. Good.” I nudged the pizza box with my cane until I could reach a slice. “We’re finally getting rid of some of the clutter. Mackenzie, want to report on Heather?”

Mac, seated cross-legged on the floor, described the romantic lunch. “After that, she did yard work, so I went home and tackled the background check on the guy you asked about.” She raised her eyebrows in question.

“Go ahead and report. We don’t have any secrets anymore.”

“That’s a relief. It was getting hard to keep track of who knew what.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So, Norman Mendelson, the memory care program coordinator.” Mackenzie studied some notes on her phone. “No criminal background. Not even a speeding ticket. Single, never married. Lived with his mother until a year ago. She’s now in an Alzheimer’s unit, though not here.”

Marty leaned forward. “Why wouldn’t he have his mother here?”

“Sunshine Haven is fancier, and more expensive, I assume. Mendelson’s mother has to share a room. I stopped by on my way here.” Mackenzie wrinkled her nose. “It’s a budget place. I wouldn’t want you in there.” She straightened and her eyes widened. “Not that I’d be putting you in a home now. Or ever.”

Marty chuckled. “It’s okay, sweetie. So either he couldn’t afford to get his mother in here, or he didn’t want to spend the extra money.”

Dad leaned against the doorjamb. “Don’t judge him based only on that. It was a nightmare figuring out the finances to get Ursula in here. How old is Mendelson?”

Mackenzie glanced at her notes. “Forty-three.”

“He’ll have his own retirement to worry about.” Dad looked at me. “We wouldn’t want you girls going bankrupt in order to take care of us.”

I put down my empty plate. “All right, we won’t assume he’s cheap, but I will assume he pushed the wheelchair into me this morning.” I described the incident for those who hadn’t witnessed it. “He’s tried to prevent me from talking to patients and their families.”

“That still doesn’t make him a criminal,” Dad said. “Well, the wheelchair thing could be assault. But for the rest, he could be trying to prevent another scandal here.”

Joe took over the post at the door and Dad sat on the bed by my feet.

“I don’t think he’s our killer, but he might be involved in something else suspicious. Maybe doping patients or extortion.” I yawned and stretched. “I’ll let Heather decide how to proceed. I have my eye on someone else for the murder.”

I told them about my afternoon visits to Ryan and Steve Hicks. When I related how the truck threatened to ram me, Dad gasped and put a hand on my leg.

Simon gasped too. “You’re sure he never touched you?”

“Only the bumper. And the rear side panel.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, and the others laughed.

“I promise, your baby is fine. Thanks for your concern. Hicks had a motive, at least for the most recent death. He had access. And it probably wouldn’t be too hard for Hicks to get poison from around the auto shop. That gives him motive, means, and opportunity. But how do we prove it?”

“Where does that leave us?” Joe asked.

I rubbed my eyes. “Tomorrow I have a physical therapy appointment first thing. Then I’ll encourage Heather to call the police. If she’s not willing, I may call them myself, but I’d rather have her support. Tonight, we take turns keeping an eye on the Alzheimer’s unit. If Hicks is our criminal, he doesn’t have a reason to strike again, but until we know for sure . . .”

Joe nodded. “We’ll set up a duty schedule.”

“Leave it to us,” Dad told me. “You get a good night’s sleep. You’ll need all your energy tomorrow.”

“I won’t argue. I’m wiped out.”

Dad helped me up. “I’ll drive you home and come back in a couple of hours.”

“I can make it until midnight,” Joe said.

Simon and Mackenzie spoke at once, but Dad talked over them. “Figure it out and call me. I’m taking my daughter home.”

Marty patted my arm. “Thanks for telling us everything. We’re making progress.”

We were. We were getting close. Or at least closer.

But we still had to prove it.

I might have dozed on the way home. When we entered the house, Dad crossed the living room and reached for the cord to pull the drapes closed. “Need anything? A cup of tea?”

I stood at the other side of the large window, leaning on my cane more than I was supposed to. “Just bed.”

If only I could find enough energy to make it up the stairs.

Pop! Thud!

Gunshots split the night, cracking our window and slamming into the wall.