Chapter 13 #3
Jacko barely hesitated before jumping at the opportunity to repay the favour he thought he owed Nick.
“As long as you only use it for information to help you decide what, if anything, you should do,” Jacko cautioned him.
“But you can’t say where you got it from, show it to the police, use anything as evidence, or ask me to testify because I won’t.
If anything criminal does come to the fore, you’ll have to find a way to get the information legally, like a warrant on his finances. Got it? You have to promise me, Nick.”
Nick looked over at me, holding my gaze as he promised. “Got it. I won’t involve you at all. When I talk with Samuel or the police, I’ll couch whatever information you give me in general terms or word of mouth.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, then Jacko sighed. “Good. I’ll call you when I have something, most likely tomorrow.”
Nick closed his eyes. “Thanks, Jacko.”
Jacko grunted. “Just happy I can do something to repay what you did for Lisa.”
“This more than repays me,” Nick argued softly. “I’m sorry I even had to ask.”
The call to Samuel didn’t go quite so well.
“What the fuck do you mean you’re in a bit of a tight corner . . . again?” Samuel barked, his voice taking on that imperious edge that had most criminals quaking in their boots. Me too, when it came down to it.
As if I’d said the words out loud, Samuel went on to address me. “Mads, are you there with this idiot? No, scrub that. I know you’re there, because you’re always there. It’s like talking to Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble, only with a lower combined IQ.”
I snorted. “That’s a bit harsh.”
“No, it’s not,” Samuel snapped. “The last time you lot needed my help, you both almost died, and I nearly got fired.”
“But you didn’t,” I reminded him, my hand dropping to cover my dick like that might somehow protect me. “And Australia is a safer nation today because of it.”
Samuel made a choking sound. “Don’t start with me, Madigan. I only like you because you’ve made Nick a more palatable human being. But that can easily be revisited. Based on this call, your charm offensive with my brother-in-law seems to be slipping.”
“Aw, I love you too,” I mocked, causing Nick’s eyebrows to hit his hairline.
After a long moment of stunned silence, Samuel laughed.
“Jesus Christ. You can fuck off, the both of you. I don’t know what wicked deeds I did to deserve you idiots in my life, but I’m clearly stuck with you.
God help me.” He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Okay, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be to hear what mess you’ve got yourself into now.
Only you, Nick, could turn the rekindling of your relationship with your estranged mother into an episode of Criminal Minds. ”
Nick tried unsuccessfully to swallow a laugh. “Come on. It’s not that bad.”
I pictured Samuel’s eyes narrowing. “I’ll be the judge of that. Now start talking.”
I smiled, knowing this was how Samuel operated. He worked up a full head of steam about whatever he perceived as Nick’s current shenanigans, blew it all out, and then got down to business. He always had our back, and I loved him for it.
As Nick explained the situation in full, Samuel listened without interruption, then clarified with some pertinent questioning.
By the end of the call, he agreed with Nick that some investigation was warranted, and he would check the databases to see if Austin’s name popped up anywhere, or Belinda’s for that matter.
“And how are you doing?” Samuel’s tone grew oddly soft for him. “Did the meeting with your mother go okay?”
Nick’s eyes met mine in a hollow stare. I took his hand, squeezing it gently before bringing it to my lips.
“Yeah, it did,” he finally answered. “I’ve still got a lot of mixed feelings about what she did, but I’m beginning to think that’s not the point.
That maybe I’ll always have them, and that’s just how it is.
The answers I was hoping for simply aren’t there, and I have to learn how to live with that. ”
I pressed his palm against my cheek and held it there as he talked.
“I’m tired of carrying all this anger and resentment, Samuel.
It’s too fucking heavy.” Nick freed his hand to wipe a fat tear from my cheek, his beautiful mouth curving up in a slow smile that melted my heart.
“I have the world to live for now”—his gaze drilled into mine—“and I don’t want old grudges and bitterness fucking things up. ”
Samuel was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, his rough voice said it all. “That’s good to hear, mate. That’s really, really good to hear.”
The call to Samuel’s girlfriend, Jerry, was much lighter in tone. We caught her in the car about to head home from Golden Oaks where she ruled the reception desk. She asked if I was the designated caller because Nick was in trouble with Samuel?
“Absolutely.” I happily threw my lover under the bus.
She laughed. “You’re such a bad boy.”
“Are you two done making fun of me?” Nick grumbled.
“Never,” Jerry shot back. “The opportunity doesn’t come often enough. I can’t wait to get home and find out exactly how much trouble you’re in. Must be spectacular if you won’t tell me.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “Can we just get on with this, please? Have I told you how much of a pain in the butt you’ve become since you moved in with my brother-in-law?”
Which earned him another laugh from Jerry. “Every time you see me, cupcake. How can I help you?”
I posed our question regarding Parkinson’s, and Jerry told us what she knew about its symptoms and progression.
She wasn’t a nurse herself, but she’d worked in long-term care most of her career and was a fount of knowledge.
“I’m no expert,” she warned when she was done.
“But I’ve just seen someone who is. Claire!
” She shouted the name of one of the registered nurses at Golden Oaks. “Have you got a minute?”
“Sure,” Claire’s soft voice came from somewhere close by.
“Great. Madigan and Nick have a question for you.”
A few seconds later, Claire’s curious voice came down the line. “Boys? How can I be of service?”
I repeated my question and Claire rattled off a whole list of possible symptoms that Nick recorded on his phone. Chloe fit some of them but not others.
“There are commonly shared things like slowness of movement, muscle tremors, muscle stiffness, a mask-like facial expression, and balance issues,” Claire explained.
“They come and go at first but slowly become the norm until they’re there all the time.
But they do vary in intensity from person to person, and they can be quite vague. It’s a nasty disease.”
“And it’s cause?” Nick asked.
“There’s no single cause,” she answered, not really helping. “It’s diagnosed from an overall clinical picture of someone, not just one thing. It can be influenced by genetic components, drugs, toxins, head trauma, brain inflammation, medication reactions, and so on.”
“So, basically anything,” I muttered.
“Anything that might adversely affect the brain, yes,” Claire confirmed. “That’s why brain imaging is usually needed to rule out other possibilities like strokes or tumours.”
I caught Nick’s eye. Nothing had been mentioned about scans.
Claire continued, “It doesn’t usually show up until after sixty, but it can start a lot earlier in some.
Basically, a part of your brain begins to deteriorate, and the symptoms get progressively worse as the deterioration expands.
It targets the brain’s neurotransmitters, which means your brain cells have trouble communicating with each other. ”
“So, confusion and memory loss would be expected?” I asked.
“Yes, although they tend to develop later,” she explained. “Depression, difficulty concentrating, all of those. A high percentage also develop dementia down the track. As I said, it’s a nasty disease.”
I looked sideways at Nick and caught the pain in his eyes. He’d only just reconnected with his mother and already the clock was ticking. I asked the question I knew he’d be asking himself. “How quickly does it move from diagnosis to dementia or an inability to care for yourself?”
Claire sighed. “That depends on when it’s diagnosed and if it responds to treatment. Some do better than others. A few years to a great deal longer. It’s variable.”
Everything was variable, it seemed.
The line went quiet for a moment before Claire asked in a softer tone, “Is this about a family member?”
I caught Nick’s eye, and the misery I saw there almost broke me.
“Yes,” he said, leaning closer to the phone. “My mother was diagnosed last year.”
His mother. It was one of the few times Nick had referred to Chloe openly in that way.
“Oh, Nick.” Claire’s voice filled with sympathy.
“I’m so sorry. But there are a lot more treatment options than there used to be.
The most important thing is to make sure your mother is seen by the best medical specialists.
It’s not a one-size-fits-all kind of disease.
Treatment needs to be tailored to your mother’s needs. ”
“Thank you. I appreciate your help.” Nick fell back in his seat and left ending the call to me.
When I was done, I pocketed my phone and leaned across the console to press a kiss to Nick’s lips.
“Hey, you. How about we head back to the cottage, grab some beers, and get naked? We can sit in the spa until we look like prunes, then stuff ourselves silly with—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—your choice of whatever disgustingly unhealthy food you want delivered to our door.
And somewhere in all that, we’ll take a look at those accounts. ”
Nick blinked, then stared at me blankly. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t listening.”
I sighed and patted his arm. “Just get me home, cowboy. I’ll walk you through it from there.”
Nick threw the car into gear. “Best fucking idea I’ve heard all day.”