Burying Ben (39 page)

”Belle, Belle,” I say, “It’s all right, I’m
here now. I ca
m
e as soon as I heard.”

I get behind her, wrap
m
y a
r
m
s around her body and hold her in a bear hug.
S
he tries to bite
m
e.

The receptio
n
i
st as
k
s if I need an o
r
derly.
I
don’t
recall
see
i
ng or
d
erlies mentioned in the brochure.

”She’s just excited to see
m
e. It’s very
e
m
otional for us both. She’ll calm
down in a
m
i
nute. I’ll take her outside so we won’t disturb you.”

“She can’t leave the grounds.” The young woman ad
m
onishes
m
e. Then she shrugs and sits down behind the desk, her head barely visible over the
m
arble counter. Whatever t
h
e resi
d
ents are getting f
o
r t
h
eir
m
oney, it isn’t an alert receptionist.

”Get hold of yourself
,“ I hiss in Belle’s ear.

She
m
akes some sort of grunting noise. I sq
u
eeze
m
ore tightly and
pr
opel her o
u
t the door and
across the lawn to where a stand of dwarf
m
ogu pines acts as a privacy hedge. I push her down on a bench and sit next to her, my arm
around her,
m
y
fingers digging into her shoulder.

”
W
here is the
m
oney
?
”

“I want April, I want
m
y grandbaby,” she wails.

I press harder, bending the tips of
m
y
fingernails. She’s snuffling, wiping her dripping nose and eyes on her sle
e
ve
like
a
child,
kicking
her
stubb
l
y little legs in the air.

”
W
ho did you give it to
?
”

“No one. I’m going to use it. For
m
e and April and the baby. For a down pay
m
ent on a condo.”

“April’s gone. The baby is gone.”

“I need it for a lawyer. To get the baby back.”

“You’re in a nut house. No one is go
i
ng to give you a baby.”

She wrenches against
m
e, growling and gritt
i
ng her teeth. A mo
m
ent later
she is on her feet, stor
m
i
ng across the lawn. I grab her by the should
e
rs and wheel her around, back toward the bench. The rece
p
tionist opens the front door a
n
d
calls out, asking if ever
y
t
hing is
o
kay.

I s
m
ile and wave.”She’s a lot better. Back to her old spunky self.”

I have only
m
o
m
en
t
s before a slew of burly
m
en in white unifor
m
s will bur
s
t
t
h
rough the camouflage of nor
m
alcy and haul Belle off in four point restraints. I squeeze her, pinching the soft flesh around her collarbone.

“Sit.” I push her behind t
h
e hedge. “Tell
m
e about the
m
oney. I’ll tell you where April is.”

“You don’t know where she is.”

“Yes I do. She’s not hiding from
m
e. Yo
u
’re the one she doesn’t want to see.”

“Does
m
y husband know where she is?”

“He wants to keep you away from
April,
doesn’t he?
T
ell
m
e about the
m
oney or I’ll t
e
ll
h
i
m
where to
f
i
n
d her.”

“You can’t do that.” Her hands ball into chubby fists.

”Cut the crap. You can act crazy for these p
e
ople. They get paid to listen to it. I don’t. I want an answer.”

”You won’t tell Vinnie where Ap
r
il i
s
? You’ll t
e
ll
m
e
f
irst?”

“Yes.”

“I gave the money to Chief Baxter. He told
m
e that if Ben flunked the psychological, he couldn’t hire hi
m
. He
w
ould have to find another psychologist who would give him
a favor
a
ble opinion.
And there wasn’t
m
oney in the budget for that. Plus, he’d have to give Ben
extra training and that would require overti
m
e, and he didn’t have
m
oney in his budget for that either. So I told him
I would pay the extra.”

She slu
m
ps against
m
e, her body soft and flaccid. “I have a receipt.”

“I don’t believe you.”

She fu
m
bles in her purse and hands
m
e a battered envelope. Inside is a handwritten receipt for $60,000 signed by Robert B. Bax
t
er on police depart
m
ent stationery. Only a card-carrying narcissist would be arrog
a
nt enough to think he could give so
m
eone a signed receipt for
a
b
ribe and
g
et away with it.

”
W
hy didn’t you tell
m
e about t
h
is before?”

“
W
ould you have believed
m
e?
You said so yourself. I’m
in the nut house, and he’s the chief of police. Anyhow, I’m waiting for him
to give
m
e my
m
o
ney back.
T
hen April and t
h
e baby and I
will
m
ove to San Francisco. April likes San Fr
a
ncisco.”

I pocket the rec
e
ipt.

“
I need that,” she says.

“It’s safer
w
ith
m
e. Prescott is notor
i
ous for having crooks on staff who like to steal from
rich patients. So
m
eone
m
ight t
a
ke your purse. I’ll send you a copy.”

Two men in white unifor
m
s are walking towards us. The gurney they are pulling leaves deep tracks in the so
f
t, moist lawn. I stand up and start walking toward
my car. Belle calls after
m
e.

“You don’t have children, do you?
Th
at’s why you don’t understand.“

Baxter wasn
’
t even on my radar. So much f
o
r
my
psychological
skills.
I
’
ll
h
ave to t
e
ll Eddie that he’s not the only one who can’t find a bowling ball in a bathtub.
W
hy wou
l
d Baxter take such a risk?
He’s full of hi
m
se
l
f and not terribly brigh
t
, but he’s also not stupid enough to risk his job just to curry f
a
vor with the wi
f
e of
a politi
c
ally power
fu
l
m
an.

Patcher once had important connections
all over the state and the clout to help Baxter with his future, but after that scene
at the Good Shepherd ho
m
e, his career is over. A recom
m
e
ndation from h
i
m
m
i
ght do
m
ore h
a
rm
than good. Maybe Baxter has a secret vice – ga
m
bling, wo
m
en –
a
lthough all he see
m
s to do is work and lift weights. It wouldn
’
t be drugs, his body is
a temple, unless he’s taking steroids, and then he would be far
m
o
re ju
m
py and irritable.

I start
m
y car. It
’
s not
m
y job to figure out Baxter
’
s
m
otives. He
’
s my en
e
m
y now, not
m
y
client. My job is to hang him
out to dry and get
m
yself off the hook.

I
m
ake copies of the receipt and
m
ail one each
to
Gary and Frank. I stifle an i
m
pulse to deliver Fra
n
k’s by hand.
A short
m
o
vie pla
y
s in my head, me, Frank, a
n
d the solace of flesh. I try writing so
m
ething warm
on a post-it note and co
m
e up with nothing
m
ore than
“H
ope you
’
re well. I
’
m still cove
r
ed in dust.”

I call Manny
to see how he’s doing. And
because I need to ask him
so
m
e
thing. He sounds really down and tells
m
e that FedEx is hiring drivers. He
’
s thinking about applying. I tell him
to keep that as Plan B, but
to hang in there. I’m
going to bring this to a close.

“
W
hen we talked on the phone a few days ago, you asked me how I knew that Ben wrote his suicide note. You
m
ade a joke about assu
m
i
ng things. Reme
m
ber
?
”

“Yeah, s
o
?”

“Supposing so
m
eone else did write it. How could I find that out
?
”

“Depends. You could look at the ti
m
e it
was written, what co
m
puter it was written on, where it was located. The
m
edical exa
m
i
n
er who ex
a
m
ined Ben’s body would have an approxi
m
ate ti
m
e of death. You could check
that against the ti
m
e on the e
m
ail. Or you could let
m
e
do that.”