“Erica,” Olivia called out as her lawyer headed toward the door. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”
“You’re welcome.” Erica smiled as she opened the front door. “Just be careful.” And with that, she was on her way.
Olivia turned to Jake. “I like her.”
He chuckled. “Come on, let’s go.”
Wallace Grady’s house was a little single-story bungalow with whitewashed walls, and a neat lawn. Jake and Olivia climbed out of the car and headed up a path flanked by neat rows of shrubbery.
“Stop fidgeting,” Jake murmured as he knocked at the door.
Olivia shifted on her feet. “I can’t help it, I’m nervous.”
The door opened to reveal a sturdy woman in her fifties. Her short, bleached-blond hair was tucked behind her ears and she wore a nurse’s uniform.
Jake nodded. “Good afternoon, ma’am. I’m Jake Gilbert with the Mercy Police Department. I was hoping to speak with Wallace Grady.”
“Sorry, he’s not taking visitors just now.”
“Ma’am.” Jake reached out to stop the door before she could close it. “I really am sorry to disturb him, but it’s important.”
“Gilbert, eh?” She looked him up and down, her eyes studying his badge. “You John and Harriet’s boy?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
“Hmmm,” she replied. “Knew your mama back when she was a nurse.”
She stepped back and allowed them to enter the neat living area.
“This is my friend, Olivia West,” Jake said as they stepped through the door.
The woman nodded, her eyes lingering on Olivia for the barest hint of a second. “Adele Leland. I’m Wallace’s nurse. I’ll have to check if he’s willing to see you. Wait here, please.”
The pair of them waited patiently while the older woman left the room for a few minutes.
“I don’t know as you’ll get much out of him, but you might be lucky. Today is one of his better days,” she informed them when she came back.
“Sorry?” Jake replied.
“Come with me.” She indicated for them to follow her.
They all walked down the hallway toward a door that she slowly opened and allowed them to enter. Wallace’s bedroom was light and airy, decorated in a soft blue and edged in white. A medical bed was tucked against the wall to the right of them, and to the left, by the dresser, were French doors overlooking a garden.
A high-backed chair faced the fall garden, and in it sat an older man Olivia presumed was Wallace Grady. He slouched heavily against one winged side of the chair.
His iron-gray hair, a contrast to his dark skin, curled tightly against his head and the left side of his face drooped slightly. His left arm curled into his side, his gnarled hand hooked against his chest, and his gaze deviated to the left as well.
A pretty young woman with golden skin and jet-black corkscrew curls perched on a small stool beside him, smiling affectionately as she slowly spooned soup into his mouth.
“What happened?” Jake asked.
“Massive stroke last winter,” Adele answered. “I’m his full-time nurse, and this is his granddaughter, Charlotte.”
“Charlie,” the young woman added. “Only Pops here calls me Charlotte, usually when I’m in trouble.”
“Is he able to speak?” Jake asked.
“A little on a good day.” Charlie wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. “He usually finds a way to communicate what he wants if you’re patient enough though.”
