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Brook really needed to get her head back in the game…figuratively, of course. She didn’t view what was between her and Jacob as any kind of game. Her unease clearly came from him veering from the profile that she’d painstakingly worked on most of her life. He was as close to a single-minded machine as one could get.
“Get it together,” she muttered to herself as she yanked on the straps of her purse.
Seeing as she’d never removed her gloves upon settling behind the steering wheel, she was as prepared as she was going to get for the brief walk between her car and the front entrance of the nursing home. She should have just taken the van, but she didn’t want to field calls from Bit the rest of the afternoon concerning the state of his first born.
The black 2022 Mercedes Sprinter Technical Van was his only child.
Bit had worked on it for months to get it field-ready, and he’d succeeded beyond her wildest expectations. While she understood the basic mechanics and technological aspects of the interior, the inner workings were like that of a cerebral cortex. Wires served as neural pathways, while the hardware served as its synapsis. Bit viewed the result of his efforts as if he’d fathered his own protégé, and she could respect him enough to treat it as such.
If she’d taken the van, Bit would have only tracked it on one of his monitors, noting the speed and traffic patterns for any hint of a problem. She needed him on point, and that was why she’d finally decided to drive her own vehicle.
Brook had changed from her black high heels into her winter boots back at her office, so it didn’t take her long to close the distance to the front doors of the facility. She quickly opened one of the double doors and was immediately enveloped in warmth. She took a moment so that her lungs could expand without any pain.
“It’s cold out there, huh?”
An elderly gentleman with white hair wearing a grey cardigan spoke to her from a nonpowered wheelchair. One similar to those in a hospital. A yellow and black plaid blanket had been draped over his lap. He had what could only be described as black-rimmed coke bottle glasses that served as bifocals. No one was assisting him, and Brook glanced down to find that the lock on the right wheel had been secured in place.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think we were in the Antarctic,” Brook replied as she searched for an employee. There were two hallways on either side of the main foyer, which was filled with plants of various sizes, two benches, and a table that served as a coffee bar. She never gave much thought to her future, but any place that served coffee twenty-four-seven was one that should be given great consideration. “You better hold onto that blanket. I might steal it.”
The elderly gentleman gave a hearty laugh as she took a few steps toward him.
“Who are you looking for, dear?”
“I was hoping to speak with someone in charge.” Brook kept her tone lighthearted as she continued their conversation. “I’m starting to believe that might be you. Theyarepaying you to greet guests, aren’t they? And please tell me that you aren’t letting them off scot free for an extra slice of pumpkin pie.”
The older gentleman chuckled once again until he began to cough. She remained in front of him while he got the racking of his lungs under control.
Brook scanned the immediate area once more, purposefully paying closer attention to the man who had materialized from the hallway to the right. He had short brown hair, failed to meet six feet in height by a few inches, and currently wore blue scrubs with a pair of white running shoes. He was entering something on a tablet as he began to veer toward the front counter.
“I love the fresh air. Winter is my favorite time of year, too. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be the official greeter for a piece of pumpkin pie. I’m Abe, by the way.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Abe.” Brook noticed that the older man’s voice caught the attention of the other male subject. “I’m Brook. If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with someone at the front desk.”
She would have expected the facility to smell of food, the way her father’s nursing home had every time she’d entered through the entrance. Instead, there was an unexpected floral scent that hung in the air. It was pleasant enough and somewhat welcoming.
“May I help you?”
“I’m hoping that’s the case,” Brook replied in kind as she searched for a nametag of some sort. There was nothing attached to the man’s scrubs, so she moved along their introductions. “My name is Brooklyn Sloane. I was hoping to speak with the administrator.”
“Mr. Risner is currently with a family,” the man explained as he set down his tablet on the counter. His eyes narrowed, and she got the sense that he recognized her. Unfortunately, her face had been splashed across the local news since yesterday morning. Technically, she’d been the subject of the local media for over a year, ever since Jacob had brutally murdered one of her neighbors. “I’m Noah Clark, one of the aids here. Are you looking for someone in particular? A family member?”
“Don’t let Noah fool you. He is here for me,” Abe called out from his spot near the front entrance. “He thinks that I’ll catch pneumonia sitting so close to the door. If he had half a brain, he’d know that the weather has nothing to do with pneumonia. It was an old wives’ tale to keep the little hellions from running in and out of the house wasting precious heat.”
“You’ll have to excuse Abe,” Noah said with a sincere smile. “It’s almost time for his lunch, and he always gets irritable when he can’t monitor the front entrance. He’s also not happy that we’ve run out of pumpkin pie. Only apple pie on the menu today.”
“I like the fresh air, that’s all!”
“Abe is everyone’s favorite.” Noah had lowered his voice so that it wouldn’t travel. “His daughter hasn’t been by to visit in a few weeks. She had surgery, and she hasn’t been able to stop by lately. She does call him every day, though. I’m sorry, but I really should take him back to his wing right now. Are you sure that I can’t help you with anything?”
“I appreciate the offer, but my business is with Mr. Risner,” Brook replied as she began to take off her leather gloves. “I don’t mind waiting for him. Would it be okay if I helped myself to some coffee?”
“Of course. Please. Help yourself. I’ll check to see how much longer Mr. Risner plans to be after I get Abe settled in his room.”
Brook made her way over to the small coffee cart. Although there were packets of sugar and a small container of fresh half and half, she’d opted to take her coffee black. At the moment, the hot beverage was more of a weapon to stave off the cold. By the time that she was able to take her first sip, Noah had already wheeled Abe out of the lobby and down the hallway to the right.
He’d left his tablet on the counter.
“May I help you?”
