Simply Lies

Chapter 32

With the kids bathed and fed and Silva in charge, Gibson set out for The Feathers the following morning. She had on an outfit that she had last worn about two years ago. She had delivered Darby about three weeks before, and had still been carrying some of her pregnancy weight. She refused to borrow any more clothes from her mother.

She drove past The Feathers twice, each time looking for anyone surveilling the place. She didn’t believe that Nathan Trask was keeping his father under eyeballs 24/7, but the man had enough resources to justify Gibson’s going through the pains of checking.

Nothing looked amiss to her, so she drove into the parking lot, and went inside with a little gift bag and small bouquet of flowers she had purchased as part of her cover. There was a sign-in sheet, so she signed in, in an undecipherable scribble. She took her temperature with the device sitting next to the sign-in ledger, and saw that it was normal. A woman at the front desk, on the telephone, nodded at Gibson, who smiled back and held up the gift bag and flowers. The woman mouthed the words Very nice.

Another lady in blue scrubs walked by pushing a basket of soiled laundry. She nodded at Gibson and moved on.

Gibson turned left and walked down the corridor, passing the library and community spaces. The nurses’ station on this hall was unoccupied. Retirement places had a hard time keeping workers because of low pay, she knew, and less than ideal circumstances. Working with the elderly, who were often in pain, depressed, and sometimes not in their right minds, would challenge anyone. Plus, even the upscale facilities operated on a shoestring, and to make a profit they had to keep the employee head count down as much as possible.

None of that was good as far as patient care went, but it was quite good for Gibson’s efforts today.

Each resident room had a name plate on it. She passed by twelve rooms without finding Trask’s.

She eyed a resident slowly making his way down the hall on a rollator. She asked him if he knew what room Sam Trask was in. He just looked back at her blankly, gummed his lips, and kept going.

She turned the corner and ran into another employee.

“Can I help you?” she asked, the woman’s features an intriguing mix of friendliness and suspicion.

“I was looking for Mrs. Edison’s room?” Gibson glibly asked, using the name she had seen on one of the rooms she had passed. She didn’t want to ask for Trask’s room in case the son had plants here. “She’s an old friend of my mother’s.” She held up the gift bag and flowers. “I thought this might brighten up her day.”

“I’m sure it will. Kate loves flowers. But you passed it. It’s back around the corner. Third door on the right.”

Gibson smiled. “Thank you. I guess I really do have to get those eyeglasses.”

The woman chuckled and went through a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY.

Gibson kept going and turned the corner. She met an elderly woman pushing herself along in a wheelchair and whistling a tune that Gibson did not recognize.

The woman stopped and looked at Gibson. “Are you lost?” she said.

“I think I might be. It’s my first visit here to see my great-uncle.”

“His name?”

“Sam Trask.”

“Room 223, upstairs.”

“Thank you so much.”

Gibson found the stairs, headed up, and ten seconds later was knocking on Trask’s door. She noted the sign next to the door that warned of oxygen being used inside.

“Come,” said an authoritative voice.

She opened the door and, breathing heavily — not from the stairs, but from apprehension — walked in.

Maybe I can get some of that oxygen.