Last Licks

Luke headed off with his guitar, and Will went to take the handles of Ollie’s wheelchair. But Ollie waved him off. “What the hell were you doing?” he demanded in a low, venomous voice. “Why were you giving that kid the third degree?”

“For one thing, that was hardly the third degree,” Will replied. “I just asked him a couple of questions. We know he was here late, after lights-out, which is when you told us Gardner had his mystery visitor.”

Ollie looked as though he wanted to argue but was aware that he was awfully short of ammunition.

“Second, at this point our strongest suspect is Alfred Scatterwell. So I wanted to see how Luke felt about Alfred, how he’d react when I talked about him, especially the cremation. I’ll admit I hit him a little hard, but I hoped to shock a reaction out of him.”

“And did you get what you needed?” Ollie asked.

Will’s expression changed a little. “I’m not sure. He was a tad off, not forthcoming. I think Luke was going to say something, but changed his mind.”

“Maybe he was going to curse out Alfred,” Ollie suggested, “but didn’t because Sunny was here.”

“I can’t say—but he did censor himself about something,” Will said.

No one had anything else to add, so they just talked around the subject, making mundane conversation as they rolled along to Room 114. Once they were inside, Ollie said, “Sunny, could you call for an aide? I’ll need some help getting back into bed.”

She did as Ollie asked, and moments later, Camille the aide came in.

“Why don’t you give us a couple of minutes while I get Mr. Barnstable straightened away here,” she suggested.

Sunny and Will stepped out into the hallway, where Will proceeded to give her the fish eye. “What’s the idea of you telling that Daconto guy you hoped to see him again?”

For a guy who’d rather spend a weekend getting sunburned than going out with me, he’s pretty quick on the jealousy trigger, she thought, but decided it wasn’t worth going into that. Instead, she said, “Luke’s one of the nicer people in this place. I’d definitely rather see him again than, say, Dr. Reese.” She shuddered. “Or Dr. Gavrik. She can really be nasty.”

“I’ve been thinking of the good doctor,” Will said. “Specifically, what Rafe the guard had to say about the way she turned up on the night Gardner died.”

“That’s right—he thought she’d been flying. She didn’t change her clothes, which is weird because any flight into Pease would have gotten her home hours before she was paged.” Using her tourist-information knowledge, Sunny considered other nearby airports. “Portland doesn’t have any red-eye flights. The latest arrival there is before midnight. Maybe Boston?” Sunny frowned. “Of course, maybe she flew in a lot earlier and was hanging around someplace. Otherwise, Logan Airport would have the latest flights in the area. Wherever she came from, Gavrik rode in a town car. Maybe that could tell us something.”

He nodded. “I’ve got an old buddy from my state trooper days who moved over to the Boston Police. Suppose I ask him to check the car services down there and see if any of them made a run from, say, Logan to Bridgewater? It’s almost a hundred-mile trip, so that should make it a fare to remember.”

“That’s a good idea,” Sunny replied. “No way am I confronting that woman without something I can hit her over the head with. Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

“On the other hand, Rafe might have a reason to try and distract us with the doctor,” Will said. “We’re getting to the end of our first full day here; that means only six to go. Time keeps ticking away.”

She nodded. “Much as I’d like to concentrate on Obnoxious Alfred—or the nasty doctor—we still have other people to question. I’m going to tackle Elsa Hogue tomorrow. And I think I should do it. Sounds like she had a hard enough time with Gardner. I think she’d react better to a sympathetic female ear.”

“Fine with me,” Will said. “I’ll spend the night going over those attendance lists that Rafe copied up.” He smiled, but with a little malice. “You can play with your cat.”

They went to sign out. Rafe nodded his good-bye, but Portia was more demonstrative, jumping onto the top of the desk and rubbing her face against Sunny’s shoulders.

When Will and Sunny stepped out of the rest home, they discovered that the weather had changed. A dome of dead air, hot and soggy, had settled over the area. Merely getting from the grand doors of Bridgewater Hall to Will’s pickup left Sunny’s suit wilted and sticking to her. Will yanked off his coat and opened the top two buttons of his shirt.