Mixed Messages (A Malone Mystery) (17 page)

It’s hard to believe that there are so many con artists
these days
who prey on the elderly
, she thought
.
There’s every type of scam imaginable, from home improvement rip-offs to bogus investment opportunities
:
all ways to rob people of their hard
earned money,
and,
in many cases, their life’s savings
.
They consider people who are in their seventies, eighties and nineties to be easy marks.

The saddest thing,
she
thought, sighing,
is
that so many older people have medical problems
that
require them to be on medications, some of which cloud their thinking and their judgment
.
That makes it even easier for the scumbags of the world to take advantage of them
.
I’ll never
understand how
those people
can
live with themselves
when
they
profit by stealing from
senior citizens
.
How do
they
sleep at night?

Well, Olivia may not be on medication but she’s vulnerable in another way
.
She so desperately wants to contact Lawrence’s father that her vision is distorted too
.
I know I made it clear today how I feel about psychics, and I know it’s none of my business, but I wish there was a way to make Olivia see that Tina’s a fraud.
She’s too good a person to be the victim of someone like that.

As
she
picked up Davey’s toys, she felt uneasy, even jittery
.
She took an armload of toys into her son’s bedroom and, a
s she lifted the lid of the toy box and tossed
his
stuffed teddy bear and several
Hotwheels
cars in, she noticed that her hands were shaking
.
What’s wrong with me?
s
he wondered
.

She plopped down on the edge of her son’s bed. Well, let’s see, she thought. She held out
her left hand and counted off on her fingers. One: i
s it worrying about Olivia that’s got me so up
tight
?
Two: or
Tina’s prediction of danger that’s getting to me
?
No,
she decided,
that’s
ridiculous;
I don’t believe in all that
supernatural stuff
.
Three: m
aybe
I’m just nervous because I’m
starting a new job tomorrow
.
Four: o
r, maybe
I’m still reeling from the reaction David had when I told him about
Davey’s ADHD
.
Five: t
hen there’s the constant fear because there’s a maniac lo
o
se in the neighborhood
.
I was
worried
about that
before but, ever since
this afternoon when
I got that strange biblical quote, I’ve been even more
anxious
.
She glanced down at her hand. Well, no wonder I’m so stressed.
It’s
most likely
all that plus David’s drinking and the problems we’re having in our marriage that’s made me feel like this, she reasoned
.
It’s all too much!
I feel like I’m on major overload.

There has to be
a way to deal with all this, she thought,
but
I’ve wracked my brain and driven myself half
crazy trying to figure it out and I still d
on’t know what
to do
.
I need some answers.
I wish someone could
help me find them
. Maybe
Father Andrew was right
.
Maybe it would be a good idea to talk to someone professional
.
I need to take some action
.
I can’t just
sit around, waiting for things to resolve themselves
.
I have to
do
something.

She
got up,
went into the kitchen and dug down to the bottom of her purse, retrieving the
business card the priest had given her
.
It couldn’t hurt to call, she
decided.
S
he lifted the phone’s receiver and dialed
the
number
.
A secretary answered on the second ring and, after Ann explained that Father Andrew had referred her, the woman told
her
that
Dr. Thatcher
had a cancellation for two thirty
and Ann could have
the appointment
, if she wanted it
.

She
glanced
up
at the clock
:
two p.m
.
She’d have thirty minutes to get there
.
She knew exactly where the doctor’s office was, a couple of streets over, on Glenmore
.
“I’ll be there,” she told the secretary
.

“There are a few forms we’ll need you to fill out and, of course, be sure to bring your insurance card,” the woman instructed.

Ann
hung up the phone.
Would she be able to get there and back before the kids got home from school?
s
he wondered.
No, probably not, she
instantly
realized
.
She scribbled a short note to Danielle,
instructing
her that, if
she wasn’t
there
when
they
got home,
she and Davey
should go upstairs and stay with Olivia
until she came to get them
.
She placed the note on the kitchen table where her daughter would be sure to see it. She
grabbed her coat and purse and was about to walk out the door when the phone rang.

“Should I
answer it
or shouldn’t I
answer it
?” she asked aloud
.
She stood there for a few seconds, staring at the phone before
deciding to pick
it up
.
She smiled when she heard her sister’s voice.

“Marnie,
it’s
so
good to hear your voice.
I’m
so
glad you called
.
I
’ve been wanting to talk to you
…
but
I can’t talk
now
.
I have an appointment and I can’t be late
.
I was just leaving
.”

“Ann, I’ve been trying to reach
… .
”

“I’m sorry
.
I hate to do this but I really don’t have
time to talk now
.
I promise, I’ll call you as soon as I possibly can but I’ve gotta go right now
.
Love ya
.
Bye
.”

Ann hung up the phone and rushed out the door, locking it behind her
.
She started to walk away and then turned around and jiggled the doorknob to be sure it was locked
.
She unzipped her purse, threw her keys in it and quickly zipped it back up
.
She slung
the strap of
her purse over her shoulder and, t
aking a deep breath, she
hurried
toward
the sidewalk.

As she passed the corner, she considered taking a bus
.
The Metro bus service was very reliable within the city limits, which included Westwood
.
Usually,
she
could walk
to the places she needed to go
.
The church and the grocery store were
only
a few minutes from the house and, with the kids’ school only
a few
blocks away, she felt comfortable letting them walk to school with some of the other kids on the street
.
Still, with only one car which David needed for work, it was nice to know that she could get a bus to anywhere in the city at just about any time
.

I’m not taking the bus today
though
, she decided
.
I’m going to walk
.
It’s good exercise and I sure can afford to lose a few pounds
.
As she passed the bus stop and rounded the corner onto Montana Avenue, the wind whipped against her, blowing her hair straight up
.
My God, it’s
gotten
cold, she thought, putting her hands over her ears
.

She turned her back to the wind and, as she proceeded backwards up the hill, she pulled her
scarf from around her neck and tied it around her head, covering her ears
.
Instantly, she felt better
.
She loved the
multicolored
knit scarf
that
her grandmother had crocheted for her the year before she died
.
See, Nana, she thought, after all these years, you’re still taking care of me
.
Her nose started to run and she wiped it with the back of her gloved hand
.
Boy, am I going to look great by the time I get there, she thought
.

She continued up the hill, stopping about halfway up to catch her breath
.
She pushed back the sleeve of her coat and glanced down at her wristwatch
;
i
t was two
fifteen
.
She forced herself to get moving
again.
She let out a long sigh of relief a
s
she turned
the corner
onto Glenmore Avenue
and spotted the Westwood Professional Building
.

Chapter 1
8

SUSAN THATCHER SAT AT HER DESK
in the Westwood Professional Building where she and several other doctors and dentists had their offices
.
She clicked her ballpoint pen and wrote “October 29
th
” at the top of a sheet of blank paper
.
She wanted to jot down a few notes about the counseling session she’d just finished while it was still fresh in her mind
.
She
tapped her pen on the paper as she
paused for a moment to organize her thoughts
.

Her client, who had left only moments before, was definitely making progress, she decided
.
Jane Banks, a plain woman in her early sixties, had lived with her physically and emotionally abusive husband for over forty years
.
The effects of those years were evident in the lines on her face and the sadness and fear in her eyes.

Susan thought back to the first time Jane had come to see her in late August
.
The temperature outside was in the high eighties that day and the humidity was horrendous,
she
remembered
.
Yet
Jane had worn a long
sleeved
,
gray
turtleneck top and
charcoal
knit pants
.
She had on dark sunglasses, which she left on for most of the session
,
and there were tiny beads of perspiration on her forehead
.
It took almost the full fifty minutes before Jane felt comfortable enough with
her
to remove the glasses
.
She
could still see the bruised and blackened eyes that looked across the desk at her pleading for help.

What had finally pushed Jane to the point of seeking therapy after all those years of abuse,
she
had yet to discover
.
What she did know was that, after only two months of counseling, the woman had gained enough strength and confidence in herself to leave the bastard and begin to take charge of her life
.
She
leaned back in her chair and smiled
.
Days like today, she thought, are why I became a psychologist
.