My fiancée. You wanted to come with me.
Although she nodded, he knew she was unsure.
It’ll be safer for us–and her–if we don’t tell her anything more.
She sighed.You’re right.
As they left the coffee shop, Jake checked the area again but didn’t see anyone paying attention to them. Still he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were going to run into trouble–sooner rather than later.
Beside him, Rachel shivered, and he reached for her hand and squeezed.
Sorry.
He responded to her unspoken thought.You’re right. Something bad is coming.
They drove to the address he’d found, which turned out to be a one-story red brick building that was an extended care facility for the elderly.
“I hope her memory’s all right,” Rachel said as they pulled into the parking lot, and Jake cut the engine.
They walked up a path through nicely landscaped grounds where native plants were interspersed with beds of colorful flowers.
Double doors led to a reception area, where an efficient-looking young woman was sitting behind a desk. She was wearing a name tag that identified her as Sarah Dalton.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“We’d like to visit with Maven Bolton.”
“Are you relatives?”
“No. We’re old friends,” Jake said. “We were passing through town, and we thought we’d drop in on Maven.”
“She doesn’t get too many visitors. I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see you,” Ms. Dalton said, standing up and checking her watch. “Maven should be in the dayroom now.”
They followed the woman down a hallway, and Jake notedthat as senior residences went, it wasn’t too bad. It looked clean, and he didn’t detect any unwanted smells.
Rachel gave him a sidewise glance, and he shrugged as they stepped into a large, sunny room. Potted plants were arranged around the walls
A lot of old women and a few old men were sitting around the room. Some were in wheelchairs, others in easy chairs watching television or at tables playing cards or working puzzles.
The employee led them to a woman who was sitting by the window with a magazine in her lap. She had short gray hair and a wrinkled face, but she was wearing a nice looking flowered blouse and tan slacks.
“Some people to see you, Maven,” Ms. Dalton said.
The nursing home resident looked up inquiringly.
“It’s been a long time,” Jake said. “I’m Jack Le Barron. And this is my fiancée, Reagan . . .” He paused for a moment, realizing that he hadn’t thought of another last name for Rachel.
“West,” she supplied.
Maven nodded, probably trying to place him, but to his relief, Ms. Dalton turned and headed back toward the front of the building.
“Thank you for seeing us,” Rachel said.
“I don’t remember you,” she said in a tentative voice.
“That’s all right.”
“It isn’t!” the old woman objected.
