They arrived at the retirement home a little sooner than they had estimated, and they were ushered to Tamika’s room. The old woman wore another brightly colored dress that accentuated her gauntness and was pacing in the small space between her recliner and the TV. The nurse announced Andi and George and Tamika rounded on them like a lioness defending her kill.
“You! New times detectives. I want to report a crime.”
George stepped forward, his best pleasing smile in place. “Of course, Mrs. Carter. Please, sit down and tell us what has happened.”
Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, George feared they would get a tantrum instead of information. Then she huffed and sat down on her recliner, her sharp gaze bore into him before turning to Andi.
“I like you better. You don’t wear a mask.”
Andi winked. “Too much hassle.”
“That it is. I never bothered with one either. Probably should have, now and then.”
“Nah. It’s never worth the energy.”
“No. Never worth.” Tamika’s stare turned absent. Afraid they would lose her again to her own mind, George hurried to get her attention.
“You wanted to report a crime?”
“What? Ah, yes, yes, a crime. Somebody stole my necklace. I can’t find it anywhere. Must have been that Suzie woman. She was so nice, and then she turned into a rat and took and took without permission!”
George looked at Andi, who shrugged. As it seemed, Tamika was having an episode, and they were now part of it. Sighing inwardly, George took out his cell, opened the app where he could take notes and listened as Tamika described the necklace that had supposedly been stolen. They would probably find it on the list of items Director Delaine had given them.
“You’re going to find it, aren’t you? It’s important to me. It was the first gift from Tony my husband. He saved for months to buy it for me.” She gestured to the sea of pictures on the wall. George was about to say something along the lines of how wonderful Tony must have been when Andi suddenly stepped in front of the cluster of pictures showing Tamika as a young woman. His voice was very, very carefully neutral.
“Tamika, your Tony, did he, by any chance, have problems with his left hand?”
“They beat a Black man so badly, he lost the use of his left hand.” Shireen’s voice echoed in George’s head. He looked at his partner sharply, who was eyeing Tamika with the focus of a snake waiting to strike. George couldn’t say if Tamika sensed the change in the atmosphere or if her addled brain simply latched onto something familiar.
“Yes. Couldn’t use it. He was beaten when he was eighteen. Assholes never got charged even though he identified them. Bad times, bad times. Now gay detectives work for women. Much better.” She lifted her hand to her neck, rubbing the wrinkled skin there. “My necklace is gone. Tony gave it to me. He saved for it for months. His first gift.”
“Yes, Tamika. We’re going to find it. We promise.” George gestured toward the door. “We must go and start looking for it. Talk to the director about Suzie.”
Tamika nodded, her hand still rubbing the empty spot above her clavicles. “Yes. Find my necklace. It was a present from my Tony. The first. He saved for months to buy it.”
She was now staring at the pictures on the walls, lost in a world only she could access.
As soon as they were back in the car, Andi wrote to Shireen. “I told her to prioritize looking up Tony Carter, and if he could be the man the judge and his buddy attacked.”
“If yes, then we have a connection between the judge, Asten, and Tamika.”
“Or Paradise Home.” Andi put his cell into the back pocket of his jeans.
“How did you make the connection?”
“In one of the pictures, Tony is holding baby Rosalie. I didn’t really see it before, but he’s holding her with his right arm and his left hand is just hovering over her face, totally limp.”
“Hmm. That could have been anything.”
“That’s why I asked her.” Andi closed his eyes. “She’s dying. Her brain is deteriorating fast, and the rest of her body…it’s all wrong, nothing works as it should.”
“The silverfish?”
“Yes, and the pill bugs and the spiders. It’s…eerie seeing a body shutting down. I mean, I’m used to the fragility of life, that it can last less than a few seconds, that it’s often over before it really begins, but that’s in their world. Here, in the world of blobs, the knowledge is somehow heavier. The additional years we have compared to most arthropods don’t make any difference at all, do you understand? It always ends.”
Andi was looking out the Escalade’s window. George knew his partner was trying to shield himself, to hide his vulnerability by angling his upper body away from him. And he didn’t like it. Andi had George now. There was no need for hiding. He stretched his hand over the middle console and put it on Andi’s thigh. There was a short, sharp intake of breath, then, soft like the touch of a butterfly’s wing, Andi’s fingers were on the back of George’s hand, before his palm settled down.
When they came to the crossing that would lead them either back to the hotel or in the direction of the lake, George went toward the lake. Even if they didn’t get any new hints or epiphanies, he figured a nice stroll would do them good. He parked in the same parking lot as the last time, and they ambled along the path around the lake, going in the direction where the judge and Trevor had left the mortal plane. They were still holding hands, though not speaking, both lost in their own thoughts. Two joggers and a group of fishermen passed them, the joggers not sparing them a glance while the fishermen, all of them good ol’ boys, as it seemed, stared at their intertwined hands. Andi didn’t realize it or chose to ignore it. George made a point of making eye contact with the men, declaring loud and clear that they were not prey. The group hustled past them, not daring to utter a single word.
