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The nursing assistant was a young woman with dark brown hair and a pale, tear-streaked face. She immediately sat up straighter when Kit and Connor entered the room, her expression becoming guilty.
Well, this should be interesting.
Shady Oaks Retirement Village
Scripps Ranch, San Diego, California
Monday, November 7, 12:15 p.m.
“We’ve reserved these three rooms for the police to conduct their interviews,” Miss Evans explained as she walked Sam through the corridor just past her office. A police officer stood guard between the first and second doors, looking over his shoulder with obvious worry.
That would be the room where Benny was waiting. Sam could hear the old man’s terrified voice and it twisted his heart. Poor Benny.
Sam caught the sight of Connor Robinson entering the third of the visitation rooms. “Who’s in that room?” he asked Miss Evans.
“Devon Jones.”
Because she’d found Frankie’s body, poor kid. That meant that Georgia Shearer was in the room adjacent. Sam’s heart broke for her, as well. After Benny, Georgia had been closest to Frankie. Their acerbic personalities had suited each other.
Sam made a mental note to pay extra attention to Miss Georgia in the coming days. She liked to put up a Teflon front, but the old woman felt things deeply.
Georgia was kind of like Kit, at least in that respect.
The thought of Kit reminded Sam that he hadn’t sent the text he’d been writing when Evans had called him, so he pulled out his phone and hit send. Pushing the thought of his homicide detective from his mind, he turned to the director, who was still talking about Devon Jones.
“I asked the detectives to start with her,” Miss Evans was saying, “so that she can go home and compose herself. We need to get Benny calm as quickly as possible, because they’ll never be able to interview him in this state.” She glanced back toward her office nervously. “Do you need me for this?”
“No,” Sam said, mostly because he didn’t and partially because there was something about Faye Evans that made him twitchy. In the role for about a year, she was so purely admin focused that she didn’t take the time Sam thought she needed to spend making connections with the residents. The last director had been a very detail-oriented administrator, yet she’d still known every resident and had taken the time to make sure they were all okay. Sam had liked her so much more than he did Miss Evans, but the board of directors hadn’t asked him before hiring the woman, and he was only a volunteer.
He added a smile to soften his no, because Evans was frowning at him. “I know you’re busy,” he said gently. “I’ve got this. Don’t worry.”
“Excuse me,” the officer said when Sam reached for the door. “No one is supposed to go in there.”
“This is Dr. Reeves, a psychologist,” Evans said, more haughtily than she needed to.
Sam lifted his hand, hoping Miss Evans would be quiet. “I consult with the SDPD. I’m their profiler.”
The cop frowned. “I thought you were the piano player.”
Sam smiled at him. “Purely on a volunteer basis. Counseling and consulting is my day job. If you want to call Lieutenant Navarro of the homicide division, he can clear me.” He turned to Miss Evans. “I’ll handle this. You don’t need to wait.”
She didn’t need to be told again, hurrying back to her office.
Sam pulled his ID from his wallet, along with his cell phone. “I have Lieutenant Navarro’s number, if you’d like to call him. If you could do it quickly, I’d appreciate it. Benny’s not well.” He could hear Benny’s voice growing louder and more agitated behind the door. “He has a bad heart. If I could get in there, I might be able to calm him.”
The cop called SDPD from his own cell phone and asked to be transferred to the homicide lieutenant, studying Sam all the while.
Smart guy. Sam didn’t blame him for being careful.
The cop explained the situation, listened for a moment, then thanked Navarro before ending the call. “Dr. Reeves, Lieutenant Navarro has given you free access to the entire facility. I’m sorry, but I had to be sure.”
“I’m glad you did,” Sam said sincerely. Then he braced himself and opened the door.
Benny Dreyfus was…unraveling. His eyes were wild and his normally perfectly straight bow tie was askew. His hands were clenched into pummeling fists, his target the nurse who stood against the wall, her own hands raised placatingly.
Nurse Roxanne was as tall as Benny and probably weighed twenty to thirty percent more than Benny did. The old man had lost so much weight recently. A strong wind would blow him over. He couldn’t be doing much damage to Roxanne, but she still winced with every blow.
Benny needed to be stopped. Roxanne wasn’t restraining him, probably for fear of hurting him. His skin bruised so easily now. Sam would have to calm him down or they’d end up sedating him again.
