Chapter 24
24
Karen spent the next day drowning in a sea of laundry and endless cleaning, hoping that by keeping her hands busy, she could quiet the relentless swirl of thoughts in her head. If only that worked. Instead, she pounded the pillows she was supposed to fluff, jerked the vacuum around, mopped the kitchen floor twice, and scrubbed the toilets as though the cleanser would keep the alien zombies from coming through the sewer pipes.
“Mom, are you okay?” Laura’s gentle voice broke through the chaos.
Karen froze, her head buried inside the refrigerator as she wiped down the shelves for the second time that morning. She straightened slowly, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease just a little as she turned to face her daughters. Laura and Olivia stood nearby, their faces etched with concern. Karen’s heart softened at the sight. With a heavy sigh, she tossed the rag into the sink and closed the refrigerator door, leaning her hip against the counter as she met their worried gazes. “Yes… and I’m sorry for being so…”
“Pissed off at the germs in the house,” Olivia quipped, her voice filled with the kind of comic relief that only she could muster amid chaos.
Karen snorted, shaking her head as a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “Yes,” she admitted, though the weight of her thoughts still lingered just beneath the surface. As her smile faded, she continued more seriously, “I just have a lot on my mind, and if cleaning the house like a madwoman helps me work through it, well, I’m going to call that a win.”
“Maybe it’s a win for cleaning, but I’m not sure it’s helping whatever is upsetting you,” Laura said.
Karen chewed on her bottom lip as she realized how intuitive the girls were. Perhaps they always were, certainly having to grow up faster when their father died, but looking at them now, especially Laura, she could see signs of the girls as young women. Caring. Loving. Giving. They were a reflection of the best parts of her and Jeffrey, and at that moment, she felt both pride and sorrow swell in her chest.
Walking over, she opened her arms. The girls moved straight into her embrace without hesitation. Pulling them close, she breathed them in, loving the feel of them close to her heart. “Oh, sweeties, I’m sorry.”
Laura leaned back and looked at her. “Mom, you don’t have to apologize. We all get pissy.”
Karen laughed, acknowledging that there were times the hormones ran rampant in the house with three females. “Yes, we do.”
Now, Olivia leaned back, her eyes sharp. “What’s going on?”
She sighed, wondering how much to tell them. Deciding on honesty and a dose of brevity, she said, “There’s a sheriff’s investigation that might impact the home health program I work with. And it’s weighing heavily on my mind.”
Laura’s brows furrowed as she pieced things together. “An investigation like something Mark might work on.”
Nodding slowly, she remained quiet but should have known her girls were not only intuitive but intelligent.
“And you can’t date him while it’s happening, right?” Laura asked.
She nodded again.
Olivia wrinkled her nose and said, “That stinks. Just when you and he were going out more. That really stinks!”
A bubble of laughter erupted, and Karen squeezed her daughters before releasing them. “You’re right, baby. That stinks.”
The rest of the day passed easier. The girls finished homework and watched TV while Karen completed the house cleaning with a little less frantic energy. Her mind was still uneasy, but she was tired enough to fall fast asleep when she fell into bed, hoping for a better day tomorrow.
It didn’t take long for her hopes to fall flat. Sitting in a staff meeting for the whole ESHH, which included not only her group but multiple others, she cast her gaze around, suspicion overtaking all other thoughts as she tried to make sense of the tangled web of potential suspects.
The ESHH director would undoubtedly have information on every patient who used their services. Selma would go to each of Karen’s clients who need continued assistance that a nursing aid can provide. She’s in her fifties… I can’t see her breaking and entering. But she also doesn’t have a very high salary. Oh… and her son is always looking for a get-rich scheme. Rick is a counselor. No way. That doesn’t fit his personality at all. But he does have twin sons who are going to college. Sharon likes pretty things and has champagne tastes with a beer pocketbook. Karen looked at Miles and thought of the ring Sharon had recently shown off. She also spied a bracelet around her wrist that Karen hadn’t noticed before. Maybe he supplies the baubles that keeps Sharon happy. Patrick is a happily married man. He wouldn’t risk his life being a thief. But then, he still has student loans.
The investigation impacted everything she was involved in. The only knowledge she had was of TV shows and movies. Are they looking at my bank account? She almost snorted. She made a good salary, but life chewed up much of it. The girls’ college accounts had been created and mostly filled with the insurance she received four years ago when Jeffrey died. My phone records? This time, she couldn’t hold back the snort. Calls to the girls. Calls to office. Calls to a couple of friends. Calls to Mark. Calls to the dentist, doctor, and a few businesses. Hardly the phone records of a master criminal.
Suddenly, the sound of chairs scraping against the floor snapped her out of her thoughts. People were standing, and the meeting was over. She’d missed the entire thing, lost in her own tangled web of suspicion. Heat flushed her cheeks as she quickly stood, trying to refocus on her day.
She thought she would take someone with her on the visits but wasn’t able to. It wouldn’t have proven anything, and everyone had their own schedule—there was just no way to double up. And if I were a thief, I could just pass on any home details to my band of thieves, who would do the dirty work. She snorted again and, this time, could not ignore the questioning looks being shot her way. Ducking her head, she headed to her office.
She had no new patients to evaluate today, so she was able to visit three patients she had seen before who needed to be checked on. The first was an elderly couple living in an old hotel renovated into efficiency apartments. The rent was cheap, and she hoped their social security payments would allow them to pay all their bills. Mr. Carswell met her with a smile and led her to where his wife was resting in a living room chair. Once he’d settled, she took their blood pressure and temperature, checked for leg swelling, and ran down the questions she needed to ask.
The part of her job she loved the most was taking a few extra minutes to get to know the patients. She only saw some for a very short time, maybe no more than a few visits. Sometimes, if someone had surgery, the ESHH was only involved until they could take over their care themselves, including outpatient physical therapy. A few patients who were nearing the end of their life would be transferred to hospice. However, some patients, like the Carswells, had ongoing conditions that required ESHH services to be involved for a while.
Yet as she glanced around their small efficiency, ensuring there were no rugs to trip over with their walkers and the bathroom still had the toilet rails and shower seat, she suddenly felt as though her assessment could be invasive. Obviously, she knew her innocence, but was there somebody on her staff who was not just assessing for health reasons? Someone who was looking for things to steal?
She had read the police notifications in the local newspaper and was glad they were online and easily searchable. She discovered that for the last month, there had been five reported break-ins, with the thieves taking cash, credit cards, jewelry, and, in one case, a home safe that contained a firearm.
Five residences. Five break-ins. Five clients of the ESHH. And five clients she had seen.
Selma had been to three of them. Miles had been to all five, except one of them quickly transferred to outpatient physical therapy. The speech therapist had only been in one home. Sharon had been in three of the four, and Patrick had been in two. Only one had been Rick’s patient.
Patient records were entered into the database when a new client came in. Of course, the director of the ESHH had access to everything. Karen had never wondered who else might have access to client records but now wondered if a tighter hold should be made on those.
But even if someone from the ESHH had access to the patient services’ schedule, it would need to be someone who had been inside the home to know precisely where cash, credit cards, or a small safe would be located. Oh God, we’re back to me.
“Ms. Karen?”
She jerked her head around, embarrassed that her mind had drifted off to burglary cases and not focused on the man before her. “Oh, I’m sorry. I seem to lose focus today so easily,” she said, forcing her tone to be much more lighthearted than she felt. Mrs. Carswell was dozing in her chair, but his eyes were sharply staring at Karen.
Making sure to give him her complete attention, she watched as his hand lay lightly on his worn Bible. “Have you been reading today?”
He nodded, then patted the leather-bound book. “I find comfort in the words.”
“I’m glad you do,” she replied honestly. “I hope we can all find the comfort we need.”
Suddenly, he looked up and pinned her with his eyes. The blue appeared faded, and for a second, she could imagine him as a robust young man with piercing blue eyes.
“Did you know I did time in prison?”
Karen jerked slightly, his words surprising her. In her career, she’d heard many confessions. Some were deathbed confessions, but others were just people who felt that a nurse was someone who could help them carry their emotional and physical pain as well. She relished the extra time with him, listening to his stories and sharing a little of her life in return.
“No, Mr. Carswell. I didn’t.”
“I was a young fool back then.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say that they all had been fools in their youths, but she remained quiet as she listened.
“A couple of buddies and I were stealing. I’d scope out a house. Peek through windows. Sometimes go right in when they were gone to take a quick look around.” He shook his head. “I never took anything… too scared, I reckon. But I’d tell my buddy, and he’d go in next time the people were gone and would take whatever I’d seen.” He shook his head. “Damn fool, I was. We were caught. ’Bout nearly killed my mom. I was supposed to do two years but got out after fifteen months with good behavior.” He snorted. “There was nothin’ to do in prison back then but be good. I never hung with the hard-timers. Kept my head down and did my time.” He looked at her and said, “Learned a lot about myself, though. Knew I never wanted to go back. I got out, got me a job with a good man who believed in redemption, met my sweet girl, and lived the rest of my life the way I should have.” He looked over at his wife, who was still sleeping peacefully in her recliner.
“I think your story says a lot about you, Mr. Carswell. We all make mistakes, but to have turned things around and lived a full life—that’s something to be proud of.”
He patted her hand that rested on the arm of his chair. “You’re a nice woman, Ms. Karen. How are your girls?”
Her shoulders shook as she replied, “I was just thinking that a house full of females is a little crazy right now.”
“Your husband, God rest his soul, would have loved all the crazy fun of a house full of females.”
She nodded slowly. “You are very right, Mr. Carswell. He would have.” Her mind jumped from Jeffrey to Mark, and an ache built deep inside.
“You’ve got a new man in your life. I can see it in your eyes,” Mrs. Carswell said.
Karen blinked as she reared back. She hadn’t even realized Mrs. Carswell was awake, let alone listening to their conversation. “I… how…” she sputtered, then laughed when she saw the merriment in both their eyes. “I sort of do. I did. Well, we’re still.” She buried her face in her hands as they laughed.
“Sounds complicated,” Mrs. Carswell teased, her hand now resting on her husband’s, their fingers intertwined with a lifetime of shared love and history between them.
She lifted her gaze to his face, weathered by sun and life. “It is. We’re at the beginning of a relationship, but we both know it’s special. And it’s been interrupted by circumstances that neither of us have control over.” Her throat tightened unexpectedly, and she blinked rapidly, willing away the sting of tears. She looked down at her scrub pants, her fingers absentmindedly picking at an imaginary piece of lint as if that tiny distraction could keep her emotions at bay.
“Ms. Karen?” Mr. Carswell’s gravelly but kind voice gently drew her attention back.
“Life is always going to happen. Things out of our control. You know that… you learned that when your husband died.”
Karen nodded, the memory of her loss flickering painfully in her chest.
“But, the choices we can make… the part of life that we can control… we need to do so. Go for it. Fight for what you and your girls deserve. Make it happen. Then you’ll be stronger for when life kicks you in the keister.”
For a moment, the weight of his words settled over Karen like a warm blanket, comforting and wise. And then, almost without warning, a burst of laughter escaped her, the sound of it catching even her by surprise. “Oh God, Mr. Carswell, thank you,” she said, her voice full of relief, her chest feeling lighter than it had in days. “I needed that.”
The older couple smiled widely. “Good. Guess that was my slice of redemption for the day,” he said.
Karen smiled, and the heaviness pressing on her heart finally lifted. At that moment, surrounded by the warmth of their wisdom and the enduring love they shared, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she could find the strength to fight for her own happiness—even when life threatened to get in the way.
Still chuckling, she moved to his kitchen counter and counted their medicine pills, ensuring they had what he needed.
“Oh, Ms. Karen, we have pill boxes now,” Mrs. Carswell said. “Show her, honey.”
He pushed to a stand with difficulty, then walked over and stood next to her. He reached into the cabinet and pulled out two new, still-in-the-package weekly pill organizers. He handed them to her. “One of the neighbor ladies brought it over to me. I haven’t done anything with it yet and thought you could help me. If not, Ms. Selma can when she comes tomorrow.”
Smiling, she took the packages from his hands. “I’d be glad to help.” She filled each box with a week’s worth of pills according to when they needed to be taken. “Ms. Selma can keep this filled when she’s here.”
“Maybe that nice son of hers can help us, too.”
She swung her head around. “Her son?”
“Yeah… sometimes he drives her, and I invite him in. Nice young man. Real pleasant.”
Karen simply nodded, but as she finished her visit and walked out, her mind began to race. I had no idea Selma had her son drive her to some visits and that he went inside the homes. And since she only has one son, this must be the one who always needs money.
Angry with the turn of her thoughts that made her suspicious of everyone, she decided to stop at Roscoe’s house even though it wasn’t her day to do so. She was tired of overthinking the burglaries and hoped to see the children.