Chapter Seven #2
Ten minutes later, I gave up on any hope that Jakob and I wouldn’t be the talk of the town by nightfall. Gran kept introducing him to everyone as “my granddaughter’s handsome beau,” and every time I told her to cut it out, she shushed me.
“I’m just keeping up the ruse,” she said. “Plus escorting a dangerous criminal around the premises will be great for my popularity. No offense, Jakob.”
My grandmother, the prom queen.
Jakob’s face darkened as we entered the cafeteria. He swept his icy gaze across the room. “None taken.”
Was it my imagination, or had he just put a little more menace into his expression for her benefit?
From the second Dr. Perez stepped inside Gran’s rooms, it was clear that she was Not a Fan of Jakob.
She caught sight of him and came to a dead stop.
In her midforties, she was a trim, short woman with deeply tan skin.
Her dark hair was cut into a bob. Today she wore a pair of black slacks with a white, scoop-necked silk top tucked into them.
Her black jacket was left unbuttoned, the sleeves folded up to reveal a band of the pink silk liner.
She looked fashionable and professional, put together in a way that always eluded me, no matter how hard I might try to replicate the look.
Her gaze met mine, and her expression morphed into disappointment. “How did you get him in here?” She held up a hand to forestall my answer. “More importantly, why did you bring him here?”
I caught her up on what we thought was happening at Magnolia.
She frowned as she listened, sinking down between Gran and me on the couch. When I finished, she looked at Jakob, who stood near the slider. “Do you recognize anyone here?”
Jakob hesitated for half a second before shaking his head. I frowned, thinking about the man we’d seen when we first walked in. Jakob had zeroed in on him, but he must not have known him after all. Either that or he was lying.
“How long have you suspected something?” Dr. Perez asked.
“A month,” he said.
Her brows shot up. “And you didn’t think to tell someone here?”
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug that somehow managed to look like a dismissal. “They wouldn’t have listened.”
“I would have listened,” she said. “I might not have wanted to believe you at first, but I would have looked into it.” She turned to Gran. “I take my patients’ health very seriously.”
Gran smiled and patted her arm, much like she had Jakob earlier. Gran could be blunt and a little inappropriate at times, but deep down, she was a comforter. “I know you do.”
“That’s great,” Jakob said, his tone gaining a rough edge. “But you don’t answer phones here, Doc.”
“Not helpful,” I told him, and then turned toward Dr. Perez. “Have you noticed anything? Questionable behavior from a fellow staff member? Residents not responding to meds as they should?”
She sent me a meaningful look. “I couldn’t answer your last question even if I had. That’s client privilege.”
Fine. I’d play it her way. “Has Gran not responded to her meds like you expected her to?”
The gleam in her eye said I’d asked the right question. “She’s responded better than expected. To everything but her arthritis prescription.”
I frowned. “You think it could have been tampered with?”
“It’s a possibility,” she said. “Her flare-ups have shown little to no improvement since we started the regimen, and up until now, I was stumped by it. I even called a friend over in Houston who specializes in osteoarthritis to see if he’s run into a similar response.”
“And has he?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“But isn’t it just a generic nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory scrip?” I asked. “Why would anyone want to steal that?” As Gran’s power of attorney, I knew every pill she’d been prescribed.
Dr. Perez tucked her hair behind her ear. “When paired with lithium, a simulation of the effects of an opioid can sometimes be achieved. It comes with a huge risk of potentially catastrophic side effects, but… ” She shrugged.
I sighed. “But people looking to get high might be willing to risk that.”
Gran’s expression turned grim. “I want to get drug tested.”
Dr. Perez looked to me for confirmation.
“Please drug test my grandmother,” I said.
Dr. Perez rose from her seat. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
When she was gone, I turned to Gran. “She better not find pot in your system.”
Gran’s expression flashed to innocence. “I don’t remember smoking any dope.”
I eyed her. Gran had told Jakob that I could be stubborn as a mule sometimes, but if I was, it was because I’d learned it from her. “Using your Alzheimer’s as a shield is low, even for you.”
A glint of steel shone in her eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Have it your way,” I said. “But I’ll know if you’re lying when the results come back.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned into the couch. “I guess you will.”
She wasn’t going to back down, which meant that she’d definitely been smoking pot. Where the hell did she get it from in here?
Over by the slider, Jakob stared out the window like we’d bored him. I followed his gaze, searching through Gran’s makeshift herb garden for the distinct leaf pattern of marijuana plants. I didn’t see any, but I’d go out there and get a better look before I left today, just to be sure.
Dr. Perez came back a few minutes later, and she and Gran disappeared into Gran’s bedroom to collect the samples in some semblance of privacy.
Jakob and I were left alone in the living room.
I studiously ignored him because every time I looked at him, my irritation flared back to life.
Unfortunately, Gran’s rooms were swathed in cream and off-white, and he stood in a self-contained spot of darkness that crept into my periphery even when I turned my head away.
This was why it was best to bail after sex. Before things got complicated or the memory of a brain-melting orgasm was tainted when your partner revealed themselves as the world’s biggest jackass. The next time my inner cavewoman reared her head, I would club it myself.
“All done,” Dr. Perez announced when they reemerged. “I should have the lab work back by tomorrow morning if I put a rush on it.”
“Thanks,” I said, rising from my seat. “You’ll call me when you get the results?”
She promised that she would. After that, she hustled out of there.
We’d kept her past her appointment time, and she had other patients to see.
Before she left, she promised that she’d keep our suspicions to herself until we had Gran’s results, and if there were signs of tampering, we’d figure out how to move forward from there.
I told Jakob he could go, but he insisted on staying until I left.
I spent another twenty minutes with Gran, catching up on everything I’d missed since my last visit, the day before yesterday.
Gran regaled me with a tale of lunchroom drama—apparently there was a lurid affair happening on the second floor, and it had imploded during the chicken parm course—followed by the game of euchre she’d won last night against her rival from down the hall.
Some weeks were like this. Her memory would seem perfectly fine with a few small slip-ups that were common among anyone advancing in years, like not being able to find her reading glasses when they were right on top of her head.
Other weeks, I repeated the same conversation with her three times in one day.
Alzheimer’s was brutal. Unpredictable enough that just when you thought your loved one was improving, it flared up and reminded you there was no getting over this disease. Eventually it would claim everything from her, including me.
Jakob remained a silent bystander throughout most of it, but at least he civilly answered the few questions Gran lobbed at him. If he’d been rude to her, all bets would have been off.
Before we left, I checked the deck plants. No pot out there. Gran must have been buying it from a neighbor. Who would have guessed that nursing homes were such hotbeds of vice and sin?
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Gran asked as she saw us out. “You have it off, right?”
I nodded, both happy and sad that she remembered. “I’ll come by around noon.”
“Sounds good,” she said.
I wanted to be here right when the doors opened, but I was working the late shift again tonight, and I needed to get some sleep afterward, or I’d be no use to anyone.
I hugged Gran goodbye and led Jakob out of the nursing home. We received a few sideways glances, but no one said anything, and I breathed a sigh of relief as we stepped out into the balmy heat of early afternoon.
Jakob stuck to my side like glue as we made our way through the parking lot. I went to get in my car—yes, I was petty enough that I was going to leave without saying goodbye—but his hand landed on top of my door just as I tried to jerk it open.
“Give me your phone,” he said.
I turned to look at him. “Why?”
His shades were back on, obscuring his eyes. “I’m going to put my number in it so you can call me when you hear from Perez.”
“Dr. Perez,” I muttered, digging through my purse.
I didn’t want to give him my phone, but I wanted to get out of there more, so I handed it over.
Plus my stupid logical side reminded me that the Kings should know if something was up.
I didn’t want drugs in Kearny either, especially not if they were stolen from people who really needed them.
He took my phone and punched his number into my contact list. “You notice how the good doc didn’t answer your question about someone on staff acting shady?”
I frowned. No, I hadn’t, but looking back, she’d moved expertly past that and drawn my focus to Gran’s meds. “Do you think she was already suspicious about something being off at the nursing home and was afraid to say anything?”
He handed my phone back. “Either that or she’s in on it.”
With that disturbing comment, he grabbed his helmet off his bike and swung a leg over the seat. “See you tonight.”
A heartbeat later, the engine thundered to life, and he roared out of there.