Page 16 of Twin Threats In Austin
“Can we have a list of employee names, highlighting anyone who routinely worked with Ms. Worth?” Rochelle asked, wishing she could split herself into two people so she could be in two places at once. Three, if she counted Kage’s apartment, which she would like to stake out so she could track his movements.
“Yes, ma’am,” Mr. Marples said. He banged on the keyboard to bring his monitor to life. Then, he squinted through his glasses at the screen before banging on the keyboard some more. He shook his head as he motioned toward the box that seemed to confound him. “Darned if I’ll ever be able to understand these things. One minute, everything is working fine, and the next, I can’t get it to do anything.” He spoke low and almost under his breath, like he was having the conversation solely with himself and there was no one else in the room.
A couple of framed prints hung on the wall, mostly of turbulent ocean tides with waves crashing against boulders. The kind of art folks chose said a lot about their own lives. Rochelle surmised that life wasn’t easy for Mr. Marples. That he saw it as a struggle. Then again, a good part of his job was likely dealing with insurance claims, which had to be a nightmare.
“Here you go,” he said after banging the enter button. A printer came to life on his desk, spitting out two pages. He picked them up, squinted at them, and handed them over. “I added phone numbers in case you need to reach anyone.”
“Thank you,” Rochelle said before taking the offering. She perused the list, looking for any names that stood out that she might know had a criminal history.
“Our hiring process should weed out anyone with an unsavory background,” Mr. Marples said. “Of course, we have the occasional hire who slips through the cracks, but most of our personnel issues are with individuals who fudge paperwork or attempt to slip a pill meant for our patients inside a pocket to take home for themselves.”
“Does that happen often?” Rochelle asked. “An employee stealing drugs?” It could explain Justina’s behavior changes.
“No,” he quickly reassured them.
“Can you tell us about Justina Worth?” Rochelle wanted to know if she had ever been suspected of taking anything home.
Mr. Marples shook his head. “Shame. I hope she turns up soon.”
“Has she ever missed work without calling in?” Rochelle continued, trying to steer the conversation down the right road.
“No,” he stated without hesitation. His gaze moved from Rochelle to Camden and back. “Justina was a model employee. Always on time. Never took too long at lunch. She stayed in the building and ate in the staff lounge.” He pursed his lips. “The others weren’t the nicest to her. Complained she was too much of a rule follower.”
Had she snapped? “She lost her father recently, didn’t she?” Rochelle asked.
“That’s right,” Mr. Marples confirmed. “I didn’t know her father had passed until I saw her wearing all black one day and asked her about it. Said she laid her father to rest before coming into work.”
“Was she always private about her personal life?” Rochelle asked, figuring she knew the answer, but it never hurt to ask anyway.
“One hundred percent,” Mr. Marples responded. “She clocked in on time and did her work without complaining. Most of the residents liked her even though she was quiet.”
“Did she ever receive complaints?” Rochelle asked.
“Every person on the floor has had complaints against them,” Mr. Marples explained. “The residents here have been diagnosed with some form of dementia. There’s not one person on the floor who doesn’t have at least one grievance—Justina, too.” He paused and issued a defeated-sounding sigh. “We monitor our staff as best as we can. I look at the number of complaints someone gets and their employment history before I start to make a case against any one individual.” He flashed tired, sunken eyes at her. “Even I have a list of complaints about me. I can print it out if you want to see it. As for the others, thoseare matters of privacy, and I’d get into trouble if I took it up on myself to show you those without a reason, as in a warrant.” He shook his head. “I hope you can understand.”
“Again, we wouldn’t want you to say or do anything that would put you in a compromised position,” Rochelle stated. Marples appeared beaten down, but he came across as honest and as someone who cared about the job he was doing.
“I appreciate it,” he confirmed. “The first thing I look for when hiring someone is compassion for the elderly. In this business, we go through staff because the job is physical and can be an emotional drain. Patients have to be restrained at times. They sometimes strike my staff. They say things they probably shouldn’t.” Again, he sighed as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. And it did. Families made tough decisions to place a loved one with a memory issue into the care of strangers. She could only imagine how difficult it must be for all involved. “Some of my staff come in thinking the job isn’t going to be cleaning up residents after accidents or sometimes being spoken to in a derogatory manner. But these residents are special. We take a family’s trust to place their loved one here very seriously.”
She believed him. Every word. A good detective always followed up, verified everything they were told, and never took anyone at face value. She would continue to investigate Mr. Marples. “Did you ever get a sense of Ms. Worth’s home life? What it was like?”
He shook his head. “I don’t pry into my staff’s personal lives. I don’t follow them on social media if they have accounts. What they do on their time is their business. The rule has served me well over the years.” It was probably a good practice. Rochelle didn’t have time for social media. She had a personal account that she rarely ever used. Since opening it, she’d probably made less than a dozen posts. She didn’t stalk exes online either,like some of her coworkers. Why would she torture herself by knowing a guy she’d once liked enough to spend time with had a new girlfriend? A baby?
Rochelle had always been happily single. No entanglements. No one to feel obligated to call after a long day at work when all she really wanted to do was hop into a warm bath and try to forget the day.
On the flip side, there was no one to talk to when she’d had a tough day. A fact she hadn’t spent a lot of time noticing until recently. Being around Camden was causing the feeling to intensify.
Pushing away the thought he was special, Rochelle cleared her throat and refocused on Mr. Marples after gaining approval to use this office for the interviews.
“I rounded up half the staff,” Ally interrupted after a soft knock at the opened door.
“Are you ready?” Mr. Marples asked.
As much as she’d ever be. “Bring them in one by one.”
Mr. Marples waved to Ally.
“Sir, we need to speak to your staff alone,” Rochelle said.
