Young & Old, page 3
Walking straight up to the information desk, she smiled at the elderly woman sitting behind the desk, no doubt a volunteer. “I’m Detective Halling with the Sheriff’s Department. I’m here to see Joseph.”
“What’s his last name?” The woman pulled out a chart.
Grace shook her head. “He doesn’t have one.”
The woman narrowed her eyes at Grace like she had three heads and was smoking crack, which Grace could guarantee she was not.
“I swear to you.” Grace smiled at her. “He’s in ICU. If you just point me in that direction, I’ll find my own way.”
“Go down that hall to the elevator, up to the third floor, and then take a left.”
“Thanks.” Grace drew in one last bolstering breath then walked through the hospital.
Maybe she should have brought Paige with her because the case was just too weird. She was having such a hard time wrapping her head around it all and figuring out where to even start. She was just about to the elevator when Emma stepped around a corner. Confused, Grace’s lips turned up.
“Emma.”
“Grace!” Emma’s equally surprised look was a nice change.
“What are you doing here?” Grace asked.
“I work here.”
Raising an eyebrow, Grace was even more confused. “What happened to the Campbell Home?”
“They got shut down.”
“What?” Shock rang through Grace. She had spent so many hours there with one particular resident before his brother had moved him out to Washington where he lived. She hadn’t been back since, but she’d gotten Emma the job there in a roundabout way, at least a year before.
Emma shrugged. “After Harold there was an investigation. A lot of us jumped ship then, but they got shut down for mismanagement of funds.”
“Crazy. I should have followed up more closely. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
“Don’t worry. I got a job here in human resources, and I’m loving it.”
“Good for you.”
“Are you here on a case?” Emma’s gaze skimmed down to Grace’s badge which was hooked onto her waistband and then her gun on her left side.
Grace nodded. “Yeah, handed to me this morning. I was just heading to the room.”
Emma’s sweet face lit up in a smile. “Is this for Joseph?”
“Yes…?”
“We’ve all been praying for him, you know. We want so badly for you to figure out who he is.”
“Well, I’m going to try my best.”
“I’ve got faith in you.”
A shiver ran down Grace’s spine, settling into the base of it. Conversations like that always made her feel squicky. Tightening her jaw, Grace nodded. “I’ll do my best. That’s all I can guarantee.”
Emma smiled. “I’ve got a meeting, but I suppose I’ll be seeing you around a bit.”
“You might be.” Emma went one way, while Grace walked the other toward the elevator. That had been a pleasant surprise.
As soon as she got to ICU, she picked up the phone and waited to be buzzed in. She started with the nurses’ station, her heart in her throat as she still avoided the room itself.
“I’m Detective Halling, and I’m here about Joseph’s case.”
The young woman smiled at her. “I’m Katie. I’ll tell you what I can about him, but we don’t know much other than his current medical status.”
“Well, we can start there.” Grace pulled out her notebook. “How is he doing?”
“As well as can be expected. We don’t know if or when he’ll wake up, so he’s staying on the ventilator for now. We try to wake him up every so often, see if he’ll start responding to stimuli, and he does sometimes, but not always.”
Grace took some notes. “And no one has ever been to visit him?”
“There have been visitors, but no one who has claimed him as family.”
“What kinds of visitors?” Grace shifted in her shoes, uncomfortable standing in the middle of the hospital. They always made her uncomfortable, but that day doubly so. She didn’t want to see Joseph’s still broken and lax face. He should have been found by now, found by family or friends or someone who knew something about him.
Katie sighed. “Mostly religious people.”
“Like preachers?”
“Yeah, there have been two ministers and one priest who visit monthly. The chaplain at the hospital also visits weekly, praying over him. Other than that, just a few people who have worked with him who found an attachment.”
“Do you keep any kind of record of his visitors?”
“Not formal, but I can get you their contact information.”
“That’d be perfect. Thank you.”
Katie rustled around in the desk and pulled out a piece of paper, writing the six names on it Grace had requested. As soon as she was done, she handed the paper over. Grace recognized one of the names, someone Amya talked about frequently. A pastor friend of hers who she often did studies with and helped with some programs.
“Thanks,” Grace muttered, folding the paper and shoving it into her jacket pocket. “Is there anything else you can tell me about him?”
“Not much. He’s the quietest patient on the floor and the easiest to work with.”
Grace stared at Katie dead in the face. She couldn’t quite tell if it was a joke or if she was really bad at being funny. Katie smirked and nodded her head toward a room.
“We keep him close by because we can.”
Turning, Grace saw the room she had been avoiding all day. The sliding glass door was halfway open, but the curtain was closed. She pushed her pen and paper into her pockets and squared her shoulders. She could do this. Taking a deep breath, she stepped toward the room, her heart thundering.
Why she was avoiding him, she had no idea. The case was a strange one, like Humbard had said, but hospitals brought back some not so great memories too, including her own quick stint in ICU as a patient. Stepping around the curtain, she immediately saw him.
His light brown hair was cut and kept but had a slight wave to it as it sat at the top of his head. His cheeks were shaved. No doubt thanks to the nurses who took care of him. His eyes were closed, and Grace realized she had no idea what color his eyes were at all. The picture in the file hadn’t even told her that nor had any information in the file itself. Joseph’s skin was pale, but it had a darker tone to it that she’d suspect would make him a person of color, though she couldn’t be sure.
Laying down it was hard to judge how tall he truly was, but she could ask that if need be. She’d guess he was on the shorter side and definitely under six feet. His body looked completely lifeless. The pressure of the machine breathing for him making his chest rise and fall in such an unnatural rhythm. Grace clenched her fist as she took a step in closer to the bed and to her newest case.
“Well, Joseph,” Grace started. “I guess I will get to know you really well.”
He didn’t move, not that she expected him to. With her jaw tight, Grace moved in closer. The machines surrounded his head and didn’t tell her much because she was in no way smart enough to figure them out. The room was eerily quiet, but there was a television on in the corner with an old western on it. Grace figured the nurses kept it on for him for stimulation.
“I really wish you could talk. That would solve the case rather quickly.” Grace shifted her stance and glanced out the window. “Good to get a room with a view.”
She had no idea why she was talking to a kid who couldn’t even think about talking back. Shaking her head, Grace stayed there for another ten minutes before she took a deep breath and turned toward the door. She caught sight of a nurse’s aide staring through the open doorway at her. She gave the small man a look then pushed passed to get out as soon as she could. Discomfort was the only thing she felt as she stumbled toward the front entrance to the hospital.
Grace knew she’d have to go back and visit Joseph again, but maybe next time she would insist Amya would go with her. Amya would no doubt know what to do in a way Grace didn’t. Shaking the feeling from her arms and hands, she got into her cruiser and let out a breath. All right. She had a case. She had met the victim? No, the suspect? No…the missing? She had met the missing. That made no sense. Groaning, Grace put her head on the steering wheel and let out a large sigh.
It really was like she had been tossed back to her first day on the job when she truly had no fucking clue what she was doing or where she was even supposed to step. Fingering her phone, she called Amya even though she knew she wouldn’t answer. As soon as it went to voicemail, she closed her eyes.
“This case is fucking weird, Amya. I’m telling you.”
Then she hung up. She went to the precinct and took the long way to get there. She needed to clear her mind and wrap herself around the case Humbard had thrown at her before she ended up like the last four detectives on the case—the ones who did nothing.
First Denial
By the end of her shift, she was no further into her case than she had been at the beginning except she had met the person she was finding. Which still threw her for a loop. Grace cleaned up her desk, putting everything in its orderly place and sliding it into the proper files in her drawers.
"We going, Halling?"
Grace knocked her chin up at Paige. "Yeah. Meet you there in thirty?"
"See you then."
Letting out a breath, Grace finished everything up and grabbed her keys. Peter was still moping at home so she hadn't really wanted to go there and hang out in a house without booze with no Amya to keep her company. She'd begged Paige once she’d proven a little better attitude with more caffeine to meet up with her at a bar and grill for a light dinner and drinks just so she could have a break from the monotony of being alone.
She also knew Paige would likely want to talk about her break up of her barely-a-month relationship. Grace headed home and switched out her cruiser for the car Amya had bought at the beginning of the year. If she was drinking, and planning on at least two, she could not be driving her cruiser around at all.
Letting the dogs out for a potty break, she changed out of her pantsuit and into a far more comfortable pair of jeans and a tight shirt. Knocking on Peter's door, she opened it when he didn't answer. He was a lump on his bed, which was not too much of a surprise. Sometimes she wondered if he ever moved.
"Hey, kid, I'm going out with Paige for dinner, so you're on your own."
"Okay," he muttered.
Sighing, Grace leaned against the doorframe with her shoulder and stared at his unmoving form under the covers on the twin bed. He had taken it hard when Kit had gone back home, but if she truly thought about it, he was already spiraling down the road of depression before then.
"Peter?"
"Yeah?"
Biting her lip, Grace waited until he popped his caramel-haired head out from under the blankets. She cocked her head to the side at him and let out a breath, knowing the serious conversation would have to wait until Amya was home for sure. "You tell me if you need something, okay, kid?"
"Yeah."
"I'm serious, Peter. We're here for you."
"I know."
"Just making sure you know. I'll be back in a couple hours, but I'm a phone call or a text away if you need me."
"I promise I'll text if I need something."
She could almost see the rolling of his eyes, but the dim of the room made it impossible for her to tell. She wasn't completely comfortable leaving him on his own, but she wasn't going to penalize her life for what-ifs either. She trusted he would be fine for the few hours she would be gone. He had been all day that was for sure.
Letting the dogs back in, she locked the front door as she left and got into the small sedan. It took her ten minutes to get to the bar and grill. By the time she parked, Paige was already inside waiting for her. Paige had invited her to her apartment, but Grace had declined, opting for a public location. That had been her norm lately because of everything that had happened between them.
It had helped. Kind of. She pushed open the glass door and smiled at Paige. "Booth or bar?"
"Bar. It's too busy in here to wait for a booth."
"Lead the way, then." Grace brushed her hand out in front of them. They'd been at the bar together several times throughout the year Grace had worked with Paige. She'd cut back on the number of times in the last several months, not only because her home life had gotten considerably busy since Peter moved in and they had taken on classes to become licensed foster parents to foster Kit, but because Paige had made some awkward and forward moves toward Grace, which she had been extremely uncomfortable with.
Paige slid onto the stool and patted the one next to her for Grace to join. Before she knew it, Paige had a beer and Grace had a whiskey on the rocks between her fingers. "So what'd you do to piss your girl off?"
Paige groaned. "I didn't piss her off."
"Obviously, you did."
Rolling her eyes, Paige took a long drag from her beer. "Apparently I'm too detached."
Narrowing her gaze, Grace studied Paige. "That's not everything."
Paige's lips thinned. "She thinks I like someone else."
Grace's shoulders stiffened. She would have asked, but she didn’t want to know the answer because she was pretty sure she already knew. Taking a firm sip of her drink, she set it down and didn't look at Paige. "That sucks."
"Yeah." Paige rubbed her hands on her thighs. Silence fell over them. "Why are you not home with Amya?"
"She's gone, remember?"
"Oh yeah."
"She'll be back this weekend, I think."
"You think?" Paige's green eyes focused in on her. "See? You can't be that into her if you're going to make comments like that."
Groaning, Grace inwardly chided herself for letting her tongue slip. It was one thing to do it with Crystal, but another entirely to do it with Paige. "I'm not picking her up so the exact time doesn't matter. She's home Monday. Peter's picking her up."
"Peter? He still living with you? He get a job yet?"
Grace had to learn to keep her mouth shut. "Yeah, he is. He's going through something."
"Going through what?"
Shrugging, Grace spun her glass between her fingers, really wanting to down the entire thing to get a second drink before it was too late to have another one. Giving in, she knocked it back. "He's depressed, and I honestly wonder if he’s drinking again."
"So get him help."
Grace's gaze moved to the corner of her eye so she could give Paige a sideways glare. "Don't think I haven't already tried that. Kid is stubborn."
Snorting, Paige sipped her drink. "Sounds like you."
Grace's heart warmed. It was the first nice thing Paige had ever said about the entire situation. Normally she just made comments about how Peter wasn't really her kid, and Grace would fire back with it didn't matter. But this time it felt different. She felt respected as the adult in Peter's life for the first time.
"Maybe he is a bit like me," she muttered. Grace's gaze caught a pretty blonde out of the corner of her eye. Pursing her lips, she tilted her chin up to stare in the mirror behind the bar to make sure she wasn't seeing things.
Sure enough, Crystal sat at one of the tables with the pretty waitress from the other night, except Crystal didn't exactly look like she was enjoying herself. Oh, karma is a bitch sometimes. Grace watched carefully to see if Crystal had even noticed she was in the same building.
When it was clear Crystal's discomfort and annoyance was reaching a pinnacle, Grace leaned into Paige and tapped her arm. "See that blonde over there? The one with the big blue eyes and the skanky little black dress? She's at the table with the brunette."
"Yeah, I see her." Paige's hand moved to cover Grace's on the counter of the bar, and Grace pulled her hand away immediately.
"Want to do me a favor that will win me some massive best friend points?"
"I'll do anything for you."
They stared at each other in the mirror, Paige's green eyes deep and serious, and Grace lost on how to respond. Clearing her throat, she barreled through to her request. "She's on a date, and she's having some issues. Her name is Crystal. She's been my best friend since middle school. Want to go pretend like you're her angry wife and drag her over here?"
"Absolutely!" Paige's sick grin made Grace chuckle. "Blonde one, right?"
"Yeah."
"She's hot."
"Don't even think about it, Delwin. I will beat your ass into tomorrow."
Paige raised her eyebrows up and down. "I could get on board with that."
"Shut up and go save the girl." Grace's cheeks tinged pink.
Paige slid off the stool and straightened her jacket she hadn't changed out of. Her suit fitted her form perfectly, her long lanky legs and broad shoulders. She always looked the part, unlike Grace who never quite felt like she fit into the detective uniform of a pantsuit.
"Crystal, right?"
"Yup."
"I got this."
Paige's walk had a swagger to it as she moved straight up to the table. Grace turned around with her new drink in her hands and watched everything unfold before her eyes. She couldn't quite hear what Paige was saying, but it wasn't much, before she bent down and planted her lips on Crystal's, digging her hand into Crystal's hair and tilting her back in her seat until she was half-covering her.
Grace choked and blinked wildly. That had not been what she meant at all when she'd sent Paige over there. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, wondering if Crystal was going to deck her for sending Paige over instead of just going to save her herself.
When Paige's mouth left Crystal's, Crystal's cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide, and the waitress—whose name Grace couldn't even bother to remember—was gone. Crystal looked up, and when Paige leaned in for another quick kiss before standing straight and holding her hand out for Crystal to take and stand up, Crystal finally saw Grace sitting at the bar.
Rolling her eyes, she gave a small bow to Grace then thanked Paige, who kept Crystal's elbow in her hand as she turned and beckoned Grace over with the crook of her finger. Cursing under her breath, Grace grabbed her drink and Paige's beer and went to the booth they were now apparently claiming as theirs.
