Something Deadly on Desert Drive by Kris Bock

Author:Kris Bock [Bock, Kris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9781956387414
Publisher: Tule Publishing Group, LLC
Published: 2022-02-07T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

We made plans for the next day. Mac went with Carly to find something that might have Eric’s fingerprints. Jen and I turned our attention back to Larry and Pamela. We needed to find out if Joe and Arnold had learned anything in their canvass of the neighborhood, and if Marty had turned up any of Pamela’s activities. Rather than cram into our kitchen again, Jen made a reservation at a restaurant with a private back room.

We had time for a quick visit to Mom at the care home before meeting for dinner. The place had become so familiar in the last few weeks. We walked through the lobby and greeted the receptionist. I glanced at the door to the office behind the front desk. My friend Heather Garcia was the director, but I didn’t have time to visit with her as well.

Jen and I checked Mom’s room, and when we didn’t find her there, we tried the solarium. I was getting better at spotting Mom among all of the elderly people in the room, but I still trailed behind Jen. Mom recognized us both and even got our names right, which made this one of her good days.

She told us about the crafts they’d done that morning. At least, they’d done the crafts at some point. You couldn’t trust Mom’s sense of time anymore, but she remembered the event and enjoyed it.

“What have you girls been up to?” she asked.

Jen looked at me and raised her eyebrows, asking how much we should share.

I hesitated. It was hard to guess when Mom would remember people. But never mentioning people wouldn’t help her memory, and she always did enjoy some good gossip. Besides, she might have insight that could help us.

“Do you know Dad’s friend Larry Hodge?”

Mom’s forehead wrinkled as she thought. “Yes, Larry and Betty.”

If Betty had died in the spring, before Mom’s Alzheimer’s got bad, Mom must’ve heard about her death, but she might have forgotten. Had Mom and Betty been close? Would she grieve again when she heard?

“Were you friends with Betty?” I asked.

“Not really.” Mom leaned forward and lowered her voice. “She doesn’t talk about anything but quilting. That’s fine for her, but boring for those of us who don’t quilt. I knit, but I don’t have to talk about it all the time.”

“Well, Larry married a woman named Pamela a few months ago,” I said, skimming over the issue of what had happened to Betty. “She’s quite a bit younger than Larry, a few years older than Jen and I are.”

Mom sat back, her eyes large behind her glasses. “But his children are your age.”

“Yes, I don’t think they were very happy about the marriage.”

I shouldn’t have started this. It was too complicated to explain. But even in her present state, Mom sometimes had good advice, if she understood enough of the situation. I’d often gotten impatient with her advice over the years—it seemed she had an opinion to share on everything—but Mom giving advice was part of Mom being Mom.

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