I quickly complied and moved into the spacious room. I’d expected IVs and oxygen tanks at the very least, but instead, the place resembled a jungle. A huge corn plant stood in one corner, leaning toward the light of the picture window. Potted plants, bursting with blossoms of violet and pink, spread out to line the wall with bright green foliage. Framed by the window, the seething Gulf of Mexico angrily foreshadowed the approaching storm.
“What do you want?” she demanded. “Because if you’re selling insurance, you can turn around and march right out. Odds are I’ll be dead soon, and no living soul will profit from that event. Not if I can help it.” She opened her arms wide. “Besides, this glorified tomb has taken every penny.” She turned and started fumbling around for something on the bedside table.
“Can I help you?” I asked, hurrying over to her.
But she located her glasses before I could reach her side, stretching the wires behind her ears, then scrutinizing me from head to toe. “No. You’re no salesperson. You don’t have their sneaky eyes. God knows I can pick out those idiots at a hundred yards.”
“Your son told me you lived here,” I said, sliding a dieffenbachia away and pulling a chair up alongside the bed.
“My son?” Confusion muddied her already hazy brown eyes.
“He told me you have a problem remembering things sometimes.” Actually, he told me she had trouble most of the time, but did better with the distant past than with recent events. My hope lay there. “Could I ask you a few questions?”
“I run a tight courtroom, young lady, so don’t think because you’re fresh out of law school you can get one past me. I’ve seen every trick in the book.” She folded her arms across her chest and stared at me expectantly. “Go ahead. Ask away.”
“I-I’m not a lawyer, but—”
“I told you not to argue with me,” she snapped.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. Even through her disorientation, she exuded an authority not unlike that of the second-grade teacher who had sent me to the principal for chewing gum. “I wanted to ask you about another lawyer, Judge.”
“You came to the right place, because I’ve known a bunch of them. Professional liars, for the most part.” She laughed, turning her face to the ceiling and guffawing loudly before the outburst mutated into a fit of coughing.
I helped her sit up straighter, concerned about the faint blueness around her lips and alarmed by the parchment quality of her skin. I feared her bony shoulder might crumble beneath my touch. “Are you all right?”
“Of course not. Who is? Ask your questions, counselor.” She leaned back into the pillows and closed her eyes.
“Do you remember a man named Feldman? Samuel Feldman?”
She bolted upright and hatred raced across her heavily wrinkled cheeks to settle in the tight line of her mouth. “Did that snake send you here? Because if that’s the case, get out!” She started to lift the blanket off her legs.
I took her hands in mine. “I swear I don’t even know him,” I said quickly. “He hurt someone and I want to see him punished.”
I’d come up with the right response through pure dumb luck, because she calmed immediately. “You don’t want to find him, nurse.” She squeezed my hands and shook her head emphatically.
Within the span of a few moments I had gone from lawyer to nurse. Getting information out of her might be more difficult than I thought.
“Do the world a favor and skip the CPR on Samuel Feldman,” she said. “Nothing wrong with him that reincarnation wouldn’t cure.” She grinned, and I saw teeth too large for her shrunken gums.
“I have to find him first,” I said. “And unfortunately I’ve misplaced his address.”
“Check hell. I think he’s stringing barbed wire down there.”
She seemed quite sure how much she hated Feldman, but maybe if I mentioned the adoptions, she’d focus more on facts than emotion. “I heard you placed many babies with families over the years. Could you tell me about that, Judge Hayes?”
“Ah, the babies. Sent hundreds to fine homes. Sad part was, the birth mothers were babies, too. Children having children. Tragic. Absolutely tragic. I had to make some hard decisions, but that’s why they elected me.”
She squared her thin shoulders and I could picture her, robed and dignified, running a courtroom.
“Um... I also need information on a woman named Cloris Grayson. She—”
“No!” Her face went gray and she clutched both my wrists. “You promised me. You said I wouldn’t lose my good name. You claimed you were a fair man.” She stared off past my right shoulder, obviously focused on the past. And what I saw in her eyes seemed like pure terror.
I decided to play along, to pretend I was this man she’d spoken of. “I am a fair man, but I need to know about the baby.”
She cocked her head and appeared lost by my remark. “If you don’t know, who does?”
“Oh, I know, all right, but I still need help locating Feldman. Finding him will solve my problems.”
“He went to see Cloris. That’s what he said, anyway. He promised he’d convince her to quit. But don’t trust him. Don’t
She started crying, the room echoing with her long, whimpering sobs while I rubbed the tissue-paper skin on her hand. I’d never intended to upset her this much.
When she finally regained control, she said, “Tell them the truth, nurse. Tell them I’m not a bad person.”
“Of course you’re not a bad person,” I said quietly. “Even good people do bad things sometimes.”
“And child?” she said, slowly closing her eyes. “Water the plants before you leave, would you? We breathe for each other, you know.”
I stopped at the house on P Street after leaving the nursing home, and, as expected, Steven’s truck was sitting in the driveway, as well as an expensive foreign car.
I burst in through the back door, anxious to tell him about my conversation with the judge, and found him and another man poring over books and blueprints laid out on the kitchen counter.
“Hi,” I said, addressing the stranger and extending my hand. “Abby Rose. I take it you’re the renovation expert here to help Steven with my house.”
We shook, with the man casting a puzzled glance toward Steven.
“Guess I forgot to mention the owner is my ex-wife here,” said Steven. “Mr. Gibson is the man we hope to contract, Abby. He knows his stuff.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Gibson. The house really belongs to Steven at this point in the renovation. I’ve put this project in his very capable hands.” Maybe that would salve Steven’s ego a little, as I could see he was embarrassed by my blundering in here unannounced.
Gibson said, “You’ve given me what I need, Mr. Bradley. We’ll have a more thorough consultation in a few weeks.” He gathered one set of blueprints and said, “Nice to meet you, too.” He bowed stiffly in my direction, then hurried out through the back door.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said. “But I’ve had a breakthrough on Ben’s case, Steven.”
“Wonderful. Maybe you should think about applying to the police academy.”
I ignored the sarcasm and told him about my visit with Hayes and what I considered to be a confirmed connection between Feldman and Cloris. He listened with half an ear, obviously anxious to return to his blueprints and books.
“How much weight can you put on the ramblings of an old woman with a brain disease?” he asked when I’d finished.
“I’m certain what she told me was founded in reality. I mean, the name Cloris is so unusual. The next step is to convince Jeff to help me find Feldman.”
“Jeff, is it? How cozy.” Steven slammed one book shut.
