Page 24 of The Kings of Kearny

She promised that she would. After that, she hustled out of there. We’d kept her past her appointment time, and she had other patients to see. Before she left, she promised that she’d keep our suspicions to herself until we had Gran’s results, and if there were signs of tampering, we’d figure out how to move forward from there.

I told Jakob he could go, but he insisted on staying until I left.

I spent another twenty minutes with Gran, catching up on everything I’d missed since my last visit, the day before yesterday. Gran regaled me with a tale of lunchroom drama—apparently there was a lurid affair happening on the second floor, and it had imploded during the chicken parm course—followed by the game of euchre she’d won last night against her rival from down the hall.

Some weeks were like this. Her memory would seem perfectly fine with a few small slip-ups that were common among anyone advancing in years, like not being able to find her reading glasses when they were right on top of her head. Other weeks, I repeated the same conversation with her three times in one day.

Alzheimer’s was brutal. Unpredictable enough that just when you thought your loved one was improving, it flared up and reminded you that there was no getting over this disease. Eventually it would claim everything from her, including me.

Jakob remained a silent bystander throughout most of it, but at least he answered the few questions Gran lobbed at him civilly. If he’d been rude to her, all bets would have been off.

Before we left, I checked the deck plants. No pot out there. Gran must have been buying it from a neighbor. Who would have guessed that nursing homes were such hotbeds of vice and sin?

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Gran asked as she saw us out. “You have it off, right?”

I nodded, both happy and sad that she remembered. “I’ll come by around noon.”

“Sounds good,” she said.

I wanted to be here right when the doors opened, but I was working the late shift again tonight, and I needed to get some sleep afterward, or I’d be no use to anyone.

I hugged Gran goodbye and led Jakob out of the nursing home. We received a few sideways glances, but no one said anything, and I breathed a sigh of relief as we stepped out into the balmy heat of early afternoon.

Jakob stuck to my side like glue as we made our way through the parking lot. I went to get in my car—yes, I was petty enough that I was going to leave without saying goodbye—but his hand landed on top of my door just as I tried to jerk it open.

“Give me your phone,” he said.

I turned to look at him. “Why?”

His shades were back on, obscuring his eyes. “I’m going to put my number in it so you can call me when you hear from Perez.”

“Dr.Perez,” I muttered, digging through my purse. I didn’t want to give him my phone, but I wanted to get out of there more, so I handed it over. Plus my stupid logical side reminded me that the Kings should know if something was up. I didn’t want drugs in Kearny either, especially not if they were stolen from people who really needed them.

He took my phone and punched his number into my contact list. “You notice how the good doc didn’t answer your question about someone on staff acting shady?”

I frowned. No, I hadn’t, but looking back, she’d moved expertly past that and drew my focus to Gran’s meds. “Do you think she was already suspicious about something being off at the nursing home and was afraid to say anything?”

He handed my phone back. “Either that or she’s in on it.”

With that disturbing comment, he grabbed his helmet off his bike and swung a leg over the seat. “See you tonight.”

A heartbeat later, the engine thundered to life, and he roared out of there.

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