Gone for Good (29 page)

‘You think he killed her because she wouldn't give him money any more?'

‘She didn't
have
to,' Beth said. ‘And what's more, she also knew it was him who drove me away that night. He probably thought she'd turn him in to the police. Maybe he killed her just to shut her up.'

It all made sense to me. And there were other implications that went with it.

‘If he might have killed Mom to shut her up, then –'

‘Me,' Beth said. ‘I know everything too. My guess is that he was working up to it. Maybe he thought if I was in the will, he might be able to get some money out of me. Who knows what he was coming to the house for tonight? Your friend got in the way, or else who knows what would have happened. To both of us.' As she said that, something crossed her face. Some recognition that widened her eyes. ‘Jesus. Now you're in it too. You know what I know.'

‘I was in it already,' I said. ‘Hell, I was in it before I was even born.'

I stood up and paced around. While I did, a couple came hustling through the waiting room. The man was tall and thin, and except for the nice suit he was wearing he looked a great deal like Neal Nelson. The woman with him was wearing a fur coat, and even from across the room I could see multiple gold rings on her fingers as she
patted her helmet of hair into place. They spoke to the volunteer on duty. I saw relief spread through their posture and across their faces. The volunteer made a phone call, and the clipboard-bearing nurse came out and led the couple back through a set of doors, presumably to a post-op recovery area. I took it to mean Neal was doing okay.

And we had done everything we could do at the hospital.

‘Do you have somewhere to go?' I asked. ‘Or do you want to take a drive down to Dover?'

Beth didn't hesitate. ‘It doesn't look like my house is a very safe place to be, does it?'

‘Probably not.'

‘Then I'm game. What do you have in mind?'

‘Would you still recognize Gordon's handwriting?'

Beth and I didn't talk much while we made the one-hour drive to Dover. We were both worn out, exhausted from the evening's events as well as reliving the things that had happened to her over the previous thirty-seven years.

And we both knew something else – there was still more to come. Things weren't over. Not even close.

During the ride, Beth leaned over and turned the radio on low. I didn't recognize the program, but it was a guy giving people advice on all sorts of problems – some financial and some personal. He gave his number at every break, and at one point I said, ‘We should call him and tell him about us. His head might explode.'

Beth smiled a little, but she didn't say anything. Her life had been brutal, and I hadn't even heard the half of it. If
I knew all the details, they might make my head spin. I wanted to ask her if she'd gotten help, therapy or something. And I wondered whether she felt she'd managed to beat her addictions once and for all. But I didn't. I gave her space and time to think. I couldn't take anything for granted, but it looked as if the two of us would be getting to know each other even more in the future.

I did ask one question. ‘Did Mom like to read when she was young?'

‘All the time.'

‘That never changed. She thought every problem could be solved with a book.'

Beth didn't say anything else, but I understood why Mom wanted that book from Mrs Porter. Beth had no doubt told Mom much of the same story – or some sanitized version of it – and I knew Mom would have taken it all to heart. I hated to think how much guilt she would have felt over the life her daughter led when she was sent away. At least she died knowing Beth was still alive.

When we got closer to Dover, Beth said, ‘You still haven't told me what we're doing. Do you want to see Ronnie?'

‘Not exactly,' I said. ‘Although we can do that later if you want.'

‘Visiting hours are probably over,' Beth said. ‘I kind of figured we weren't seeing him.'

‘Visiting hours,' I said, my voice mocking. ‘Do you think a little thing like posted visiting hours can stop us? After all we've been through? We're Leslie's daughters, right?'

Some cheer returned to Beth's face and voice. ‘Right.'

Dover
Community looked appropriately deserted. We parked close to the door and stepped out into the cool night. The sodium vapour lights overhead illuminated us, casting our faces and bodies in a half glow. I stopped before we went in.

‘You've been here before, right?' I asked.

Beth nodded. ‘I came to visit Ronnie. Once. It didn't go well.'

‘You don't have to tell me if you don't want, but what was it that upset him so much about your visit?'

Beth hugged herself against the cool air. We had left her house in a hurry, and she was wearing only a light sweater. It had a dark stain on the front. I thought it might be coffee, then realized it might be Neal's blood. I looked down. I had some on my jeans and shirt as well. We'd make a pretty sight walking into a mental health facility after dark.

‘It's stupid, really,' she said. ‘Stupid on my part. I wanted to talk about Mom. I didn't have anyone else I could do that with because I didn't know you yet. I had read in the paper that Ronnie had been taken into custody or whatever, so I wanted to see him.'

‘What if you'd run into one of us?' I asked. ‘Me or … or Paul.'

‘I went at an off hour, hoping no one would be there. But you know, I kind of wanted to run into one of you. God … Paul. He's my uncle. He was my favourite uncle all those years ago. Such a sweet, sweet man.' She shook her head. ‘It's strange. I never wanted to come back when I was young. But now I kind of just wanted to belong to a family again.'

‘And
it was too much for Ronnie?'

‘He was pretty doped up,' Beth said. ‘I think he thought I was Mom. When he started to flip out, I just left. I couldn't handle it. I hated to think I brought him any pain.'

‘He's tough too,' I said. ‘And understanding.'

The door was locked, so I rang the buzzer. A young nurse I had never seen before came to the door and pointed at her watch. She spoke to us through the thick glass. I had hoped to see Janie, but she wasn't in sight – she must have been out having fun with her girlfriends.

‘Visiting hours are over,' the nurse said. ‘We open at seven tomorrow.'

‘We're not here to visit anyone,' I said. ‘We just want to talk to you.'

The nurse gave us both the once-over. She took in our tired features and frazzled looks. Who knows if she saw the blood? She stepped away and made a phone call. I knocked again, and when she looked, I made a waving gesture towards the door.

‘Come on,' I said.

The nurse didn't budge. Instead a trim and fit security guard, a young black man with a razor-thin goatee and a shiny gold badge, came over to the door. He approached us with his thumbs hooked in his belt. He meant business.

‘I don't like cops very much,' Beth said as he walked up.

‘He's a rent-a-cop.'

‘Those are the worst,' she said. ‘They have the most to prove.'

The guard didn't hesitate. He pushed the door open and used his body to block the opening.

‘Visiting hours are over, ladies.' His voice sounded
surprisingly high, almost effeminate. I didn't know whether that put me at ease or gave further support to Beth's theory.

‘I know that,' I said. I tried to smile, to look harmless and pretty. The guy was about my age. Shouldn't he fall for that stuff? ‘We just need to talk to the nurse and look at your logbook. You know, the one where guests sign in.'

He shook his head. ‘You have to come back in the morning and talk to the supervisor. Her name is Miss Hicks.'

‘You know Janie Rader, right?' I asked. ‘She's a friend of mine.'

He shook his head again. ‘I can't comment on our personnel. But you can speak to Miss Hicks in the morning.'

‘I don't really have that much time,' I said.

‘I know,' he said. ‘Everyone has an emergency.'

‘Yes,' I said. ‘I do.'

‘Miss Hicks. Seven a.m.'

He started to shut the door, so I stuck my hand out, stopping it.

‘Now wait –'

‘Ma'am –'

‘Just listen –'

‘Elizabeth,' Beth said. ‘Maybe we should –'

‘If he'd just listen,' I said. ‘Just listen. My brother was here. And they say he tried to kill himself, but I don't think it's true. And I need to see –'

‘Ma'am,' the guard said. ‘Lots of folks got troubles.'

‘But my brother –
our
brother – Ronnie, he's in the other hospital because they say he tried to kill himself, but I think someone tried to kill him.'

The pressure on the door eased. Something softened in
the guard's face. The hard lines and edges of his mouth and jaw relaxed.

‘Ronnie?' he asked.

‘Yes, Ronald Hampton.'

‘Your brother is Ronnie Hampton?'

‘Yes,' I said. ‘Yes. Do you know him?'

‘They told me Ronnie tried to kill himself with pills,' the guard said. There was a long pause. I kept my mouth shut and just waited. ‘Ronnie's my buddy. We watched the baseball play-offs on TV together.'

‘Right,' I said. ‘He loves baseball.'

The guard looked me over again. His eyes stopped on my pants, the bloodstain. Then he said, ‘There's no way Ronnie would do himself in.' He stepped back. ‘Come on. What do you need help with?'

The security guard told us his name was Edgar. He said he didn't realize Ronnie had two sisters, that Ronnie had only ever mentioned one.

Beth nodded towards me. ‘Ronnie always liked her best.'

As we approached the nurses' station, the nurse who had shooed us away – and had apparently summoned the guard – seemed nervous. She had large brown eyes like polished stones. I didn't say anything to her right away. I looked up and down the counter, trying to find what I needed.

‘Can I help you with something?' the nurse said.

‘The book where everyone signs in?' I asked. ‘Where did it go?'

‘It's back here,' the nurse said.

‘Can I see it?' I asked.

‘Who are you?' the nurse asked. ‘Edgar, do you know these people?'

‘They're Ronnie Hampton's people,' Edgar said.

‘Look,' I said. ‘The book isn't a secret. It's usually sitting right here. Every time I've been here, I've been able to see whoever signed in ahead of me. Can I just look at it? We're trying to help someone.'

‘My father,' Beth said. ‘We need to know if he was here.'

The nurse still didn't move. ‘I just started last week …'

I
leaned over the counter. ‘It's right there,' I said, pointing. ‘I could reach over and take it myself.'

The nurse eyed the book but stayed firmly in place.

‘Would you prefer that?' I asked. ‘Would you prefer if I just took it? Maybe you stepped down the hall to get a drink of water or a snack, and I came in here and took it.'

I didn't wait for her response. I leaned over and grabbed the book. I flipped back a couple of pages and moved closer to Beth. ‘It must have been sometime this morning.'

With Beth by my side, I scanned through the list of signed names and the times. I didn't see Gordon's name, which was no surprise.

‘He probably used a fake name,' Beth said.

‘Do you recognize his handwriting?' I asked.

She took the book and studied the signatures. Her lip curled in frustration as she did. ‘It's been so long,' she said.

‘I know.'

‘Since I was a kid.' She pointed at one. ‘Maybe that. I don't know.'

It read,
Stan Smith
.

‘Sounds made up,' I said. ‘Do either of you know who Stan Smith is? Is there a patient named Smith?'

The nurse looked confused. ‘I just started.'

Edgar said, ‘Oh, yeah. Esther Smith. Down the hall. Her husband comes to see her all the time.'

‘Did you work this morning?' I asked.

‘Yes, ma'am. I'm on a double shift.'

‘Did Ronnie have any visitors in the evening?' I asked.

‘Hmm. I'm not sure. There was a lot going on.'

‘I'll be specific. A fat little white guy with a thick neck. Sort of looks like a giant bullfrog.'

Edgar
snapped his fingers. ‘I know.'

‘What?' Beth asked.

‘I got called up to the second floor for about an hour this morning,' Edgar said. ‘There was a disturbance. Somebody stuffed a load of paper in the sink and the toilet and left the water running. Big flood. I had to help get it all cleaned up.'

‘Oh, yeah,' the nurse said. ‘I heard about that.'

‘That's rotten,' I said.

‘Or really convenient,' Beth said. ‘If you're going with this where I think you're going.'

I turned back to the nurse. ‘Okay, I need you to do us another favour.'

‘Another one?'

‘I need you to tell us what medicines my brother was taking.'

‘No, I can't do that,' she said. ‘That's private information. I can't give that out. I could lose my job.'

‘We won't tell,' I said.

‘I just started. I have student loans to pay off.' She looked up and down the hallway, then turned back to me. ‘I can tell you the police already came tonight and took all of your brother's medical records.'

‘Okay. So give them to me too.'

‘They're the police.'

‘Do you know I'm not a cop?' I asked.

The nurse gave me a knowing look. ‘Edgar just said you're related to Ronnie. You're probably his sister.'

‘And I'm a cop,' I said. ‘I forgot my uniform.'

‘Wait a minute,' Edgar said. He held up his hand in an authoritarian manner. ‘What is it you're trying to find out?'

‘I
need to know if my brother was taking a certain drug.'

‘The one he OD'd on?' Edgar asked.

‘Yes.'

‘Okay,' Edgar said. He leaned over the counter towards the nurse. ‘Tanya, why don't you just let them ask you if their brother was taking a certain medication. You can just answer yes or no. Then you're not handing over all the records. And then they know what they want to know.'

Tanya studied Edgar a long time. ‘I don't know,' she said. ‘I could still get in trouble.'

‘Come on, girl,' Edgar said. ‘It will be fine.'

Tanya looked back at me. ‘Okay. What are you looking for?'

‘I need to know if Ronnie was on a heart medication. Something called digitoxin or dioxin or something like that.'

‘Digoxin?' Tanya asked.

‘Sure,' I said. ‘I guess.'

She turned and started typing on the computer.

Beth looked at Edgar. ‘Nice job. You're pretty smart.'

‘I try. I'm taking the exam next week to get into the police academy.'

‘Too bad,' Beth said. ‘I hate cops.'

‘Me too,' Edgar said. ‘If I get in, they're going to make me shave my goatee.'

Tanya leaned in close to the computer screen and clicked the mouse a few times.

‘Well?' I asked.

She shook her head but didn't say anything.

‘You're not going to tell me?' I asked.

Tanya shook her head again.

‘I think that's your answer about the drug,' Beth said.

‘Okay,'
I said. ‘Is there anything that would deal with the same problems digoxin deals with? Maybe it's under a generic name.'

‘Digoxin is primarily used for irregular heartbeats and atrial fib,' Tanya said. ‘Did your brother have a heart problem like that?'

‘Not that I know of.'

Tanya clicked the mouse a few times again, and the screen went blank. ‘That's all I can help you with, okay?'

Edgar said, ‘Are you telling me someone tried to kill Ronnie with some pills? After someone already killed your mother?'

‘It looks that way,' I said. ‘And the good news is the police might have finally figured it out as well.'

‘Damn,' Edgar said. ‘Who would do such a thing?'

I didn't answer. I didn't have to.

Beth said, ‘Unfortunately, it looks like it was my father who did it.'