“Just so you know, we were not able to confirm a death certificate for your aunt. Could she have been going by another name?”
Theresa jerked her head. “I can’t imagine why. The staff had her name on the window.”
“Walk me through it one more time. About the woman in the wheelchair, mostly.”
“I think the woman in the wheelchair is, in fact, my aunt, and the woman who died is someone else.” Theresa shook her head. “Why they would lie to me or do such a thing is bizarre.” Theresa thought for a moment. “Unless I’m losing my mind.”
“I doubt it.” Maggie looked up from her keyboard. “Why would they lie to you is the real question here. There’s got to be some kind of cover-up.”
“I’ll say.” Then Theresa went into further detail about the night she and Henry and Frida crawled through the bushes and what they believed they saw. “It looked like a body, but it was too far away. Whatever it was, it was in a black bag, on a gurney, and placed into a hearse.”
“In the middle of the night.” Maggie wasn’t asking a question. She was punctuating Theresa’s story.
“According to Henry, this happens at least once a month.”
“I wonder. Do you think Henry and Frida would be willing to talk to me? Or someone else who I’m working with, to try to unravel this enigma?”
“There are more of you?” Theresa’s eyes got wider.
“Let’s just say we have many resources. In a day or so, there will be another new resident at Sunnydale. Her name is Annie Dresden. She is close friends with Lizzie.”
“I don’t understand,” Theresa said.
“I don’t expect you to, not just yet, but just know that Lizzie and our team are peeling the onion.”
“Okay. Does that mean I have to stay on a little longer? Lizzie said for me to sit tight, but of course I didn’t, and here we are.”
“If you can, it would be helpful. You seem to have an ‘in’ with two residents, and you are familiar with the lay of the land.”
“That’s for sure. I was crawling on it,” she said nervously.
Maggie could sense Theresa’s trepidation. “To reiterate Lizzie’s advice, sit tight and wait to hear from Annie. Go about your business. See the sights.”
“If the heat lets up. How do people live here?”
“It is a bit crispy, isn’t it?” Maggie had to agree. Florida was humid. Arizona was crispy. “Do you have your cell handy?”
“Yes.” Theresa got up and unplugged the phone that was being charged.
Maggie gave her a phone number. “Call this if you find yourself in any danger or need some help.” It was the emergency line that everyone had access to. If you dialed it, the mainframe would automatically track the location of the origin of the call. “It’s kind of like our own private nine-one-one.”
Theresa was intrigued. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Is there anything else you can think of?” Maggie checked the time. “I have to get over to the police station. I want to see if they can give me any other details of your accident. I’m doing a story about the rise in hit-and-run accidents.” She raised her eyebrows. “Try to relax. Someone will be in touch soon.”
Theresa felt a sense of relief. She was not alone in this quagmire. Lizzie was on top of it, just like Theresa had hoped.
Maggie got into her flaming hot vehicle, started the engine, and rolled the windows down. The police station was eleven miles away. She figured the car would be cool by the time she got there and chuckled to herself.How do people live here?
When she arrived at the police station, she identified herself, showed her credentials, and stated her reason for visiting. “I’m doing a story about hit-and-run accidents. I understand there was one on the Sunnydale premises a few days ago.” She held up her press pass in front of the plexiglass window.
“Oh?” the front desk officer asked curiously.
“Yes. A woman named Theresa Gallagher was hit by a dump truck as she was leaving the long-term care facility.”
“Oh, yeah. I was entering the information into the system earlier this morning. How can I help you?”
“Would it be possible for me to take a look at the accident report? It’s important that I have the facts to back up my story.”
