Laura was followed by her older sister, Eloise, a stern-jawed woman leaning on a cane. “That so-called nurse is a menace!”
Laura climbed the stairs, still waving her papers. Chuck stepped forward.
“Get out of my way, you!”
“We were just leaving,” Jenna said.
The older sister had a piercing, shrill voice. “Not until you search her bags!”
Chuck remained a human wall between them and the entrance. “Think again.”
Willifred, Eloise’s son, matched his mother’s ire as he shouted at their own guards and pointed at Chuck, “Remove this filth!”
“The house isours,” his mother yelled. “And that includes everything inside.” The cane waggled in Jenna’s direction. “Make sure she hasn’t secreted jewels on her person!”
“This is nuts,” Chuck said.
“No, it’s okay.” Jenna set her two cases on the front stoop, then moved forward, lifting her arms. “Search away.”
The family’s security included a hard-faced woman who had the decency to whisper “Sorry” as she gave Jenna a quick but professional pat-down. Her male counterpart slipped on vinyl gloves and opened her cases. “She’s clean.”
“Get out, the pair of you.” The grandson stepped through the front door, triumphant. “Coming, Mother?”
Chuck shut and lifted her two cases, then led her down the drive. He didn’t speak until he had set Jenna’s belongings in the trunk of her Honda SUV. “Let’s hope the resident ghosts include some really hungry vampires.”
* * *
As Jenna passed Santa Barbara’s final exit, she was struck by waves of fatigue. The assault was strong as the Pacific was now lost beyond the western hills. Ending a case always resulted in such events. In fact, Jenna had been surprised the comedown had not appeared earlier. When her solitary days in Dino’s home remained undisturbed, she had wondered if maybe she had finally outgrown the horrid hours, the wasting illness that had no name.
The nineteen months she had spent as Dino’s companion was almost three times longer than any case she had handled before. When his end finally came, it had been sudden and relatively painless—a heart attack while Dino was asleep. As a way to bow out, this one was close to Jenna’s top of the list.
Jenna had heard other hospice and in-house carers speak of the weight of such passages. For herself, each experience proved as tough as the first, a bone-deep fatigue that was as close as Jenna ever came to deep depression. She had read somewhere that Winston Churchill used to describe such hours as his black dog. Times like this, Jenna knew exactly what he meant.
Which was why, two hours later, Jenna took the San Luis Obispo exit, circled around the city, and took the county road north toward Miramar.
The last thing she needed at this point was to attend the police auction and view the wreckage of her and Millie’s dream.
In the years since Millie’s passage, owning a boat and traveling the open waters had become her dream as well. There was no logic to how her own life had absorbed Millie’s yearning. Only that she felt enriched by claiming a dream bigger than any she had known before.
Her phone chimed three times on the drive north, all from Sol Feinnes. She had no interest in reliving the morning’s confrontation. Nor did she want to hear the lawyer apologize yet again for not having insured the vessel. Sol had simply served as go-between. Protected her from the family’s ire and suspicions. There was no reason for him to have rushed through the process of registering and insuring Dino’s boat. If anyone was to blame, it was Jenna. The boat had been hers in all but name.
* * *
Sol Feinnes called twice the next day, and once more the day after. Then it was the weekend, which granted her ample excuse not to return the lawyer’s calls. It was good to be home. Her haven from the world was a small apartment on an inland rise that had escaped the previous year’s fires. Jenna had not even heard about Miramar’s Christmas being threatened by wildfires until the end of January. Whenever she tended a patient, the world gradually faded away. Which was why she so appreciated and even liked the San Lu attorney, who looked after so much when she was gone.
Monday morning, she breakfasted, then drove into town and took a long walk along the coastal path. When she was ready, she phoned Sol’s office. His secretary had obviously been alerted, because Jenna was put straight through. Sol greeted her with, “I have court. Can we be brief?”
“Of course.”
“You have two requests from new patients and their families.”
“Not yet.”
Sol did not argue. “Can I have some idea how long before you’ll be ready to take on another patient?”
Jenna had been pondering the same question. Normally a week off was more than enough to recover, restore, ready herself for the next assignment. This time was different. Why, she had no idea. “I may take a few weeks.”
“The families will be very sorry to hear that, Jenna.”
