Last Licks

“Hank Reese is an old friend of mine,” Gardner Scatterwell said. “We were boys together. That’s one of the reasons I came to this overpriced torture chamber.”

“It is overpriced, Uncle,” Alfred chimed in. “When you had to spend a couple of days back at the hospital, Dr. Reese charged four hundred dollars a day just to keep your bed here.”

“More money that won’t be coming to you.” The cheerful guy Sunny had met yesterday was completely gone now. Money really seemed to bring out the worst in Gardner. “But I’ll be staying here as long as I need.” He glared at both Alfred and the therapist. “As long as I want.”

“I’ll see if I can get you a different therapist,” the woman said, heading back to the door. She almost collided with Sunny, who was just trying to get away from the developing scene.

“Sorry,” Sunny said, stepping through and to the side.

“I’m Elsa Hogue.” The therapist lowered her voice with a glance over her shoulder. “If you have any influence with Mr. Scatterwell, I’d appreciate it if you could explain that he needs to take this therapy more seriously.”

“I’m sorry again,” Sunny said. “I don’t have any influence around here. I’m looking for my boss—” She broke off when she spotted Ollie in the large, crowded room. He stood, after a fashion, crouched over a rolling walker. His face was pale and damp with sweat, and his knuckles were white as he clutched at the handles. A husky physical therapist walked at his side, keeping a sturdy grasp on the seat of Ollie’s sweatpants. Bringing up the rear came a kid, a summer volunteer probably, pushing a wheelchair.

A security blanket, Sunny realized. He obviously can’t walk very far, but this setup encourages him to stay on his feet as long as possible.

At that moment, Ollie looked up from taking a step and saw Sunny. He was in the middle of moving his bad leg and staggered, nearly falling back onto the chair. His face was a mask of humiliation and fury as he bawled, “Get out!”

4

The large room went silent, all of the people stopping in the middle of their various exercises to stare at Ollie after his outburst. All that attention didn’t improve his mood, but at least he moderated his voice—slightly—when he spoke again. “Why’d you even come here?” he demanded. “I left the package with the nurse.”

Who of course wasn’t around when I arrived, Sunny thought. “I’ll go and get it now,” she said, heading back outside and just as glad not to have a room full of people gawking at her. Let Ollie handle them in his own inimitable way, that cynical side of her brain suggested.

Gardner Scatterwell and his nephew were still in the hallway, but they’d obviously heard Ollie’s outburst. “I’m afraid Oliver is a bit out of sorts today—he was up late,” Gardner explained. “He and his lawyer were going over those papers well after the normal lights-out.”

Having nothing to say to that, Sunny just nodded and headed for the nurses’ station. Now, of course, there was a nurse on duty, who passed over the thick envelope. Sunny checked inside and found a note in Ollie’s nearly indecipherable handwriting. It instructed her to make copies for his files and his lawyer, then express-mail the originals to Mr. Orton. She headed down the hallway and to the parking lot. No sense risking any more grief from Ollie. She’d get on the job right away.

The scenery was as lush and pleasant on the way back as it had been on her outward journey, but Sunny’s mood ruined the drive to Kittery Harbor. She then spent most of the morning taking care of that monster document, rounding out her time with routine office tasks.

When she answered the phone just before lunchtime, she was surprised to hear Ollie’s voice on the other end of the line. “Look,” he said gruffly. “I—um—I have to apologize. You caught me—this therapy stuff is rougher than almost anything I’ve ever had to do.”

“I know that, Ollie. When my dad was sick, he had a real fight to get back on his feet. And look at him now.”

“Yeah.” Now Ollie sounded embarrassed. “He called to say he was coming up. The old-line folks in town, people like my dad, would do stuff like that, even if they weren’t really friendly with someone in the hospital or whatever. I’d hate to have him hear that I’d treated you badly. I didn’t mean what I was saying.”

“Well, he won’t hear about it from me,” Sunny promised.

“Um. Good. There’s something else you can do for me. Check in the files for a couple of folders.” He described what he wanted—several real estate transactions. “These are other deals I’ve done with Orton. I want to compare them with the one you just copied.”

“Fine, Ollie.” Sunny looked longingly at the sandwich she’d just arrayed on her desk. “When do you need this?”

“We’ll do it like we did yesterday,” Ollie said. “You can leave the office a little early, and when you’re finished up here, you can go home.”