Snow Blind - Lori G. Armstrong [23]
“That’s fine. I understand completely, Kate. I just hope you haven’t written Prairie Gardens off completely.”
“I haven’t. We’ll be in touch.”
“Be careful out there.”
I fled into the snowstorm.
76
My windshield wipers worked overtime as I crept through town. Because of the extreme cold, it wasn’t a heavy, wet snow comprised of big, lacy snowflakes. The white stuff was a fine dust, the consistency between talcum powder and sugar crystals. When the 40-mph wind caught those icy crystals, it wasn’t like being in a pretty snow globe; it was like being in the middle of a sandstorm.
The mucky gray sky gave no hint to the time of day and I’d lost track. I glanced at the clock. Noon. Damn day wasn’t even half over. I just wanted to go home and hunker down until the storm passed. The parking lot of Safeway on Mt. Rushmore
Road was jam-packed as locals prepared for the worst. Maybe the forecasters were right for a change, and we were in for a big blizzard. I shivered and the urge to 77
book it home tripled. But being a responsible partner, I dialed the office to make my report.
Kevin answered on the second ring.
I said, “I’m done at Prairie Gardens.”
His sticky silence competed with the static from my cell phone.
“Kevin? You still there?”
“Yeah. Look. About what you saw yesterday—”
“Save it.” I craved a goddamn cigarette. But I couldn’t smoke, talk on the phone, and drive in a snowstorm all at the same time. “Is there any way you can get Amery to come in, in the next hour? As far as I’m concerned, this case is done.”
“That won’t be a problem. She’s . . . ah, already here. We were having lunch.”
I so did not need the mental picture of what Kevin meant by having lunch.
“Good. I’ll be there in ten. Bye.”
“Julie, wait.”
“What?”
“Be nice when you get here.”
“Why the fuck would I wanna do that?”
“Because I’m asking you to, all right?”
“Whatever.” I hung up.
People parked like idiots downtown the second they saw white fluff. The leased lot was closed. There wasn’t an open spot within two blocks of the office. By the time I’d hoofed it upstairs, nearly twenty minutes had passed. I unwrapped my scarf, peeled off my 78
gloves, unbuttoned my coat, and jammed a lit cigarette between my lips before I’d made it into the haven of my office.
I slammed the door, needing a minute to find my
“nice” persona. I’d probably left it in my bottom desk drawer next to my spare box of rainbows and butterflies. Give me a fucking break.
By the time I’d finished Marlboro #2, I’d shed some of my abominable snowman attitude.
Kevin knocked. “Can we come in now?”
“Yeah.”
He opened the door for Amery and pointed to the buffalo skin chair to the left of my desk. How sweet. Amery looked to Kevin before she spoke to me. He gave her an encouraging smile. How nauseating.
“Kevin said you were just at the retirement center. Did you find out anything else?”
“Yes. But I’m not sure it’s what you want to hear, Amery.”
Another panicked doe-eyed look at Kevin. “I don’t understand.”
“How much time have you spent with your grandfather recently?”
“Not much. I told you—”
“That he has Alzheimer’s, yeah, I know. I had no idea how bad it was until I talked to him this morning.”
She blinked those big blue eyes. “You talked to him? What did he say?”
“Nothing but gibberish. He thought I was your 79
mother. Then he told me he’d hidden her away because
‘they’ were trying to kill her, and he begged me not to tell ‘them’—whatever the hell that meant. He babbled about paying more money to keep her safe, trying to find his car, and by the time I left, he was ready for a straightjacket.”
Amery gasped softly.
“Julie, that’s enough,” Kevin warned.
I ignored him. “So here’s what I think. All this polite bullshit aside. You’re damn lucky Luella is taking care of him. At least someone is. Whatever she’s getting paid is not nearly enough. With what I saw today, and what you’ve told me, I think the best thing you could do for him is move him to the acute care wing.”
“But that’s not—”
“—what