Complicated Care

By Denise M. Hartman

Low funds, hurricane damage, threats of lawsuits, disappearing neighbors in Seaside Flats and whispers of elder abuse at the police kiosk damage Blanche’s calm in her Florida condo world.
Turns out those would be the least of the problems she’d be dealing with once she finds Edna from the first floor. An exclusive island off the coast holds a lot more than fancy mansions. Deceit, drugs, fraud, foreign visitors, and scared immigrants.
Getting Edna back to the condo wasn’t going to be a simple fix. Finding a new gang of helpers on Royale Cove doesn’t guarantee she and her crime solving sidekick Al, or the any of the others will make it off the island alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Denise M. Hartman
• Release date: Jun 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9780985720056

Denise M. Hartman

Denise has worked as a journalist, a freelance writer, a graphic designer and a video producer. Denise is a member of Sisters in Crime and was president of a local chapter. She’s from Kansas but currently lives in Madrid, Spain. Look for her novels and short stories where good books are sold! Nosy Neighbors, Complicated Cove (Blanche Binkley Books), and stand alone: Killed in Kruger.

Book preview

Chapter One

Blanche marched down the condo hallway with her sheaf of papers hoping no one else stopped her before she got to the elevator. The sky outside was grim, and the palm trees leaned in one direction with the hurricane’s winds announcing its soon arrival. The landfall predicted for early morning tomorrow.

Hurricane Miguel had put a cramp in her plans. Blanche needed at the very least to get her uniform ironed before her volunteer duty tonight, instead she’d marshaled the condo board to get out copies of the hurricane preparedness plans.

Florida had been her home since she and Harry had abandoned the Midwest after retirement. Hurricane prep sure beat the randomness of a tornado. Harry, the old grump, had gone and died almost as soon as they’d arrived 13 years ago and Blanche had gotten involved in the condo and anything else she could.

Truth was she liked knowing what was going on and feeling productive. As long as the board behaved efficiently. Retirees could turn a trash pick up into a major event and she periodically resigned from the absurdity.

Alice the secretary gathered and verified the keys to all the units. Lois the treasurer handed out the emergency plans and stuffed mail boxes whining all the way that she needed to get her hair done. The rest of the board made sure everyone installed their required hurricane shutters and the disabled got moved to a shelter.

This made her worry again what had happened to Edna. She’d disappeared out of her floor one condo. Edna’s departure had put Blanche back onto the condo board in a permanent position.

Blanche needed a breather before she went and helped her friend Al install his hurricane shutters on the second floor. The man was so cheap he wouldn’t get the new permanent ones that just slid into place. He stuck to his 20-year-old ones that had some assembly required.

She had a shift at the shopping center police kiosk tonight helping answer questions for the public. Sharon the Information Officer at Boca Raton Florida Police Department had gotten Blanche to volunteer after a few of her and Al’s accidental involvements in police cases. At least the ones the department was aware of anyway.

Blanche enjoyed the orderly sensation of going in a uniform and being able to answer people’s questions at the police desk. She would never have imagined in her days as an executive secretary that she would like wearing a uniform. She’d given up business suits and high heeled pumps instantly with retirement and taken up polyester jogging suits by winter and elastic waist cotton shorts by summer. No looking back. Free to dictate her own days and dress code.

She did miss the feeling of being a contributing member of society that daily work brought. She supposed that’s why she was so prone to find herself involved in situations like preventing a bomb going off in the intracoastal waterway in Boca Raton or she rolled her eyes at herself involved on the condo board doing hurricane preparedness.

She and Al weren’t into anything mysterious these days. Other than why he wouldn’t buy proper modern shutters.

When she slid the key in the lock on her fourth floor condo door, she heard the phone ringing. Years of secretary life made her rush to it without flinching even though it was a breathless greeting she gave.

You gotta save me from the Dragon.

Edna? Edna, where are you?

The line went dead. Blanche glanced at a blank caller ID and then out her still shutterless window toward the parking lot below. Trash blew past the cars on the steady wind. Edna had lived on the first floor until recently. Her daughter she nicknamed The Dragon had spirited her away when no one was looking. Blanche had snuck into the condo to investigate and make sure it wasn’t foul play. She saw Edna’s clothes and personal effects were gone and the bills were still being paid. She kept telling herself that Edna would let her know if she needed help. Now she had. Poor Edna.

She settled her red phone back into the cradle wondering again where the dragon-daughter had taken Edna. Edna dubbed her The Dragon because she terrorized anyone who didn’t do exactly what she wanted, when she wanted it and sometimes even the ones that did. Blanche felt relieved her kids lived far away and didn’t watch her too closely.

She walked to the spare room and pulled the metal shutters down in their railings and lowered the window back in place. What if Edna had been moved to a nursing home? Blanche shivered. That would be a low blow. Edna at 89 was doing fine if someone took her to the grocery store. Maybe the news wasn’t so bad? Maybe it would be an assisted living where Edna would have some autonomy, some choices.

Still. Blanche cringed at a shadow walking over her grave. Or maybe her future. She valued her independence.

She yanked more shutters into place in the other rooms. She left the one by the phone open in the front room. She’d close it at bedtime when she got back. It didn’t feel so suffocating if she could see out somewhere.

She hoped and prayed Hurricane Miguel would take a track north or south of their Boca Raton Seaside Flats condo. She had no idea what the old building could take. She hoped to high heaven she’d be back before dark.

Chapter Two

Jeopardy gave the answer: Obituary subjects are real people, but this Belgian detective created by Agatha Christie merited a Page 1 obit in 1975.

Al waved one of his two canes at the screen and hollered, Clouseau

Blanche counter answered. Who is Hercule Poirot?

The announcer confirmed Blanche’s answer.

Oh, pooh, said Al. He reached up and let a little air in under his ever present fishing hat. What makes you so smart?

I read every word of the newspaper every day.

You’re just looking for your name. You know? Al laughed at his joke and Blanche raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. He adjusted the volume down on the television and took up their earlier conversation.

If I come up to your floor and the power goes out, I gotta get down four flights of stairs to get out in an emergency.

But what if a storm surge comes as high as the second floor?

Ahh, half the time the weatherman’s wrong anyway. It’s only a category 2.

Blanche snapped the last of Al’s piece-together shutters together. He pushed himself up from the La-Z-Boy with his body imprint in it and balanced with his two canes.

They pushed, shoved and lifted until all the pieces were snapped into the window frames. Blanche brushed dust off her fresh uniform. She should have done this earlier. She hoped she wouldn’t look rumpled.

If they ask me to stay at the shelter and help with check in, will you go up and close my last window? The one by the phone table.

Al snorted. Sure. I can help out. Just so the power doesn’t go.

Hurricane Miguel isn’t really supposed to hit until morning anyway.

Good for you to have a man around.

It was Blanche’s turn to snort.

How are you going to find Edna? Make sure she’s okay, you know?

I don’t know. Blanche bit her lip and realized she was rubbing off her lipstick. Edna’s very capable now that she’s found a way to reach me. We’ll hear more.

Well, she had that concussion.

But she was okay in the end after her fall. Blanche didn’t want to admit how much Edna’s call bothered her.

What about the daughter?

Blanche had been racking her brain trying to remember The Dragon’s real name. I don’t know how to get ahold of her. We’ll have to count on Edna to call again. Don’t underestimate old ladies. Blanche prayed Edna would call soon. It was haunting even though she didn’t believe the daughter would put Edna in real danger. You want to go hang around the mall during my shift tonight, old man?

Why on earth would I want to do that? You know?

Alright Mr. I-hate-shopping. Just thought I’d offer in case you wanted to get out.

When did you start doing the night shifts anyways? Al asked.

It’s summer and it’s light later. I thought I’d give it a try. It might have more action.

Al snorted as she gathered her pocketbook. You just like to nose around.

Blanche swatted him. No, I like to help.

Chapter Three

Sharon the Department Public Information Officer for Boca police, didn’t usually come to the kiosk, but tonight was scheduled for a special information set up, and the hurricane had complicated that. The voluptuous Sharon made her uniform look good. She gave instructions to all the extra volunteers they’d pulled in tonight.

Here’s a list of locations of shelters in the area and especially which ones are equipped for people with disabilities. Also the original purpose of our info night - you’ve got hand outs on where you can renew your driver’s license, car registrations, inspections, etc. Thanks for coming to the Boca Raton police kiosk. Blanche loved the feel of efficiency.

Blanche knew all the information pamphlets in the booth and rarely could be stumped by a question. Since she’d bought a computer and started overcoming her aversion, okay fear, of technology, she’d started trying to learn the computer in the booth as well. She probably should have stayed working when the new computer system came in at her executive secretary job, but it was just too much. She’d mastered one in house system but she was too afraid to fail at her age especially in front of the younger workers.

Blanche, I want you to focus on the senior driver’s safety course and verifying their emergency plans for the hurricane, Sharon said.

Couldn’t I do the driver’s license points? Truth be told she’d rather do something that involved talking to young people.

You have had time to know the information cold even though it’s a new safety course. Sharon gave her a wink and handed her a clipboard with a sign-up sheet and brochures. Make sure they all have a hurricane plan too. They might be newcomers.

Blanche’s job was to roam the mall talking to seniors. Clearly elder stereotyping was going on with Blanche’s assignment, but orders were orders.

She walked around and signed up a few people for the safety course. Blanche talked with a couple from New Jersey who recently relocated and gave them the rundown on hurricane shelters and when to go. It reminded her of her and Harry. She couldn’t believe she’d been in Florida so long now and it felt like home. She loved the mix match of nationalities and food, even languages.

While she was answering questions for the couple about changing license plates and hurricanes, she noticed an older lady with a cane looking in the window of the lingerie store across the way, but the little gray headed woman wasn’t really looking. She kept shifting her gaze around watching for someone. Then she’d look over at Blanche or the other police volunteers and bite her lip.

Blanche directed the newcomers to the kiosk for some other information and glanced again in the little woman’s direction. She seemed fixated by a middle aged man who was using the Buy Gold ATM machine. Only in Boca Raton, Blanche thought, would some tycoon get the idea to sell gold out of a vending machine. Some people just had too much money and she was not one of them. She’d meant to balance her checkbook today. Hurricane Miguel got her time though.

The old woman glanced at the man again and then went into the lingerie store. This was a teddies and thongs type store. Not where Blanche and her set normally would shop for granny girdles. Blanche watched the little gray-headed lady go into the store where she turned and stared a hole in Blanche. She started waving a frantic wrinkled hand.

Blanche glanced around then pointed her manicured nail at her own chest asking a silent, me? The woman nodded and kept flapping her hand.

Blanche used her clipboard to appear official and kept it up in case the woman became violent. Certainly she exhibited odd behavior. Can I help you? Blanche asked.

Now, the woman seemed tongue tied. She was pale as though she didn’t go outside much in the sunny land of Florida sunshine.

I. I. She glanced at the door and ducked into an aisle between rows of red and black undies in various shapes. I need, uh, information. She looked down at her age-spotted hands and pulled at the loose skin with nervous fingers.

Okay, for a hurricane shelter? Blanche’s sympathies arose as she sensed a soul in need but couldn’t read the problem. She hoped she could help.

I think someone is robbing me.

Robbing you how? Defrauding you or a banking problem? Blanche leaned into her.

The woman turned gray like her hair. I think it’s my care giver. Things in my house are missing and my bank book... she shrugged helplessly.

I’ll get you some phone numbers. Wait here.

Blanche speed walked to the kiosk and found the brochure on cons of the elderly, a care giving resources brochure, and a hotline number for elder abuse. The hair on her arms stood on end. As she entered the lingerie store again, she saw the man turn away from the ATM gold machine studying the receipts. Blanche wasn’t sure if he was the culprit, but she rushed anyway. She shoved the papers at the woman. You need to call the hotline as soon as possible.

I don’t want to get anyone in trouble, but... she bit her chapped lip.

Don’t let it continue. Whatever it is. You deserve better. Are you hurt physically? Blanche looked her over from top to bottom and other than being poorly dressed she seemed okay.

No, I’m fine. She tucked the brochures in a pocket of her skirt. She looked up with fear in her eyes. I should go.

Tell me your name? Your address? Blanche would report the situation herself. She readied her pen on her clipboard.

I gotta go. The gray lady scurried to the front of the store just as the man from the gold ATM passed. Blanche shrunk back behind the rack so as not to be seen.

The man took the gray lady by the elbow roughly and marched off without looking back.

Blanche tried not to think about elder abuse. She knew it was real. A qualm of conscious washed over her at the thought of Edna in need. Blanche tried to read all she could about scams and be smart about all her own business interactions. Still you never knew who was going to be crooked or how they’d sneak up on you. What had Edna’s daughter done with her?

She walked back to the booth and told Sharon what had happened. The gray woman was gone though.

Sharon was sympathetic. If they won’t complain or speak to the police, there’s not much we can do.

They both looked down the mall a moment. That lady you were talking to tonight could file a complaint herself if her family have hired a registered care giver. We have systems in place.

Those aren’t fast answers though, are they? Blanche asked.

Sharon shook her head.

Blanche drove back home through the dim twilight haunted by the encounter with the gray woman. She’d been working hard for several months to overcome her own intense anxiety of darkness that had started when Harry died. She’d taken this evening shift as a volunteer at the mall in an effort to be braver. Therapy. She knew she felt less anxious lately, but tonight with that poor woman’s face in her mind the blowing, darkening sky, promising a hurricane, oppressed her.

She pushed harder on the accelerator. She had done all she could for the woman under the circumstances. Hadn’t she?

Chapter Four

Hurricane Miguel veered off and luckily didn’t make a direct landfall at Boca Raton according to the news. Had anyone told Blanche it wasn’t a direct hit during the long night listening to the wind jet-stream the condo, she would not have believed it. It sounded frightening. Now, looking at the parking lot full of palm branches, uprooted bushes, and the dumpster on top of her 12-year-old yellow, Lincoln she didn’t feel lucky. She knew, of course, it could be much worse.

It could be worse, she said out loud trying to get it into her soul. It’s just that she needed new tires, an oil change, an air filter, and now a new back window. She’d live with the damaged paint and scratches.

She buckled down to business. She called the landscaping company, but Seaside Flats was not top on the list for clean up. Blanche’s phone soon started ringing from condo folks. She called Rachid on the third floor and Melchior from the fifth floor to see if they could help move some branches. Rachid was still at work. She’d bet that was a fun night in a convenience store during a hurricane waiting for something to break. She found someone who agreed to pull the branches into a pile so people could get in and out of the parking lot.

Blanche made rounds to the board members and each floor. Water had seeped into the condo storage area which required some more phone calls to insurance offices. All in all, it wasn’t massive, and her car had been the worst case in the parking lot. It was just something to fix. She needed a sit down and drink a big glass of iced coffee.

But she was caught on her way back to the fourth floor.

Blanche shifted her weight and looked longingly at the condo elevator for escape.

Sal and his wife, Ella, stood blocking her way out of the lobby.

How’s the alligator injury holding up? Blanche managed to ask without a trace of sarcasm and a nod at his leg. Sal’s sins on the condo board leaked out when he’d been in the hospital after a minor encounter with one of Florida’s local reptiles and a subsequent heart bypass.

Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. Not quite back out on the golf course yet but shouldn’t be long. Look, see since you are the board president with Edna gone and all, he managed to make it all sound like an insult. I gotta talk to someone. Things can’t go on like this.

His mousy wife seemed to start shrinking. It was like the more bluster Sal brought out, the more life seeped out of her. The truth was Blanche felt sorry for her, but she couldn’t get close because that would mean being around Sal more often.

Sal used his conciliatory tone for the moment, but he was a bully straight up.

He made a shoot the cuff motion on a rolled-up dress shirt exposing a heavy gold bracelet on one wrist.

The flood in the basement last night. That kind of thing. The residents on the third floor, they aren’t happy. I’m telling you. See, I’m doing you a favor to tell you. Since the pool discounts went away, well, other problems in the condo are more...noticeable.

Blanche knew for sure Sal was stirring people up. She didn’t like seeing people being taken advantage of and, worse yet, it upset the happy balance of Seaside Flats.

You mean the illegal kickback on the pool fees you were getting? Blanche saw his face darken and realized he would come after her, but his type never stayed at peace with anybody anyway. Ever since she’d known him in the condo he filled every conversation with threats. When they moved down from the north permanently rather than being winter snowbirds, he’d gotten elected to the board and forced his decisions to be the only ones. She’d gotten off the board.

The board had decided not to prosecute his recent indiscretions as they didn’t want to pay legal fees. Sal kept a lawyer friend on retainer and always seemed to be suing someone. It would just drag on for ages and cost money.

The third floor needs new carpet and paint. That might help things smooth over. You understand me?

We do the carpets in a rotation every five years. You know that. One floor each year.

Those people they might sue.

Hmm. I suppose it’s their right. I can show the schedule to the courts too. Blanche looked up to the ceiling to pretend to think. Bullies were horrible. She wondered what he was angling at; he always had ulterior motives. It always benefited him.

I have a guy who can do the carpet. Probably get you a deal on the whole building all at once.

And new carpet in your apartment too for free in the deal? Blanche arched an eyebrow.

He turned four shades of red, and his wife started shuffling her feet and looking at her Rolex watch.

Look here, you old bitty. You aren’t the queen of this mansion. There’s people here that need attention. You’re gonna get that board off its duff and get it moving or else I’ll eat you and the condo for lunch.

Blanche had had enough. Bon appetit, old man. I didn’t vote to not prosecute you. Maybe we could reconsider.

She had walked past them, and he spoke to her back.

Like to see you try. Who do you think you are?

Name’s Blanche Binkley, she said without looking back.

The elevator was mercifully at the bottom floor. It would have been awkward to wait after her snarky retreat. Mr. Achmed rushed out of the elevator with a hello and she stepped in without a wait. When the doors closed, she felt herself start shaking all over.

Al had called it. She was back on the board, and it turned out to be a lot of work to get the condo back to rights after all the fiascos lately, and in the end the board hadn’t pressed charges against Sal as the former conniving president. Too much sympathy for his alligator bite on the golf course. Blanche was sure she’d not heard the end of this.

Chapter Five

Blanche held her iced coffee to her forehead after gulping down a quarter of it. She didn’t want to think.

A knock at the door startled Blanche out of her moment of peace.

She stood to go to the door when a demanding banging rather than normal knocking began. It had better not be Sal. She’d had enough of his threats for one day. The front door buzzer hadn’t sounded, so someone in the condo had their pants on fire. Good grief. The world had bigger woes than condo crisis and branches in the parking lot. Cities a few miles away were practically under water.

Blanche patted her bouffant strawberry hair into place, then stood on tiptoe to peek out of the peep hole. She jumped as keys banged against the door. She focused and her heart skipped a beat.

Hide the retirees and the children, it was the Dragon, Edna’s daughter. How had she gotten inside the condo? Caught off guard, Blanche struggled to remember the woman’s real name again as she opened her condo door locks, but nothing came. She composed her face into what she hoped was a neutral smile. This was Edna’s daughter who had spirited her away from her first-floor condo with no notice.

The Dragon pushed past Blanche without asking to come in or greeting her. A tall lean middle aged woman in a business suit that probably could be sold used for the cost of Blanche’s old car.

We need to talk. The Dragon ran a fist full of diamond rings through hair that had that new silky treatment Blanche had read about at the beauty salon. Big bucks.

How’d you get in here?

I kept Mom’s key.

That’s against condo rules. Residents can’t move out and keep the keys. I’m on the board.

So sue me.

We can’t just have anybody walking in here. People have been robbed.

I know including my mother before, she snarled to emphasize the word, I moved her out. I ought to sue you, but look, that’s not why I’m here. She flashed her perfect predatory smile.

What have you done with Edna? Blanche surprised herself at the force of accusation in her own voice.

I’ve moved her somewhere where she won’t get robbed. Somewhere safe. You know Royale Cove?

The island?

Is there another one? The Dragon flipped her dark hair over her shoulder and put a hand on her hip.

Blanche found herself balling her hands into fists. The woman reminded her of sand paper.

My ex has a house out there, so I was able to get Mom into their exclusive care center.

Isolated, Blanche thought. The island was accessible only by water from Florida’s peninsula. Despite the 10 million dollar homes on the island, Blanche would bet the Care Center was just another nursing home. Her soul shrank a little at the idea.

When did you last talk to her? Is she okay? Blanche didn’t want to give Edna away.

Of course she is. The Dragon snarled.

Emotional snarking didn’t count as abuse you could call a hotline for, Blanche guessed. What are you doing slumming it over here then?

The tall elegant Dragon lady actually paused. Hesitated. This made Blanche’s internal radar pick up.

The care center has great references, but well, again that significant pause. I’d like you to go over and visit her for a few days. I want to make sure the money is worth it. She met Blanche’s eyes with her dark gaze and a confident smile. Tell me what kind of people are there. Especially her suite mate.

Suite mate? No private rooms?

They share a bath but it’s private. This lady...I couldn’t seem to meet her while I was there. The Dragon kept her eyes locked on Blanche’s.

Why me? As much as Blanche knew she had to help Edna, the Dragon’s motives rang untrue.

You got to the bottom of that condo business, so I thought you’d give it more than a cursory glance. Besides, if you go snooping, no one’s going to notice one more old wom...uh elderly person in there.

Why me though? Can’t you just use your own...resources? The woman dripped money after all and altruism wasn’t her forte.

The Dragon considered for a moment. I did my research before I put her there. I’m not stupid. I want to know what people are living there.

Blanche narrowed her eyes. What people? Is someone a danger to Edna and you still leave her there?

The Dragon raised her perfectly groomed brown eyebrows. No, nothing like that. But I haven’t been able meet her suite mate and...well, when I’m there, the staff seem to put on a show. If you go, I think they won’t notice you hanging around.

Blanche paused and waited.

I just want reassurance they aren’t overcharging me, uh, her, and who is out there. It’s terribly expensive and I want to know it’s worth it.

Blanche would bet what little money she did have that Edna didn’t want to be there at all. Edna would rather be in her little condo with daily in-house care if she actually needed it. Last Blanche saw, Edna was doing fine as long as someone took her to the store now and then.

A shadow passed over Blanche’s soul. Everyone her age living in their own home dreaded the time family decided you couldn’t make it on your own and moved you to the ominous assistance facility. They had fancy names, but it gave her the creeps to even go near one.

I’m not going to stay in one of those places, Blanche said. She swallowed hard.

I’d pay for everything. It won’t cost you a dime. Get lots of pictures of what goes on and see if the meds are doled out properly, who is out there and how people are treated. Talk to people. Make sure there’s no fraud.

Pictures? Fraud? Fishier and fishier and the Florida beach was a mile away from the condo.

You mean to say she’s still getting robbed?

The Dragon shook her head. No. I’m not sure.

So the move didn’t help? She’s getting robbed worse by them than anything that ever happened in the condo, I imagine. We solved our problems here. Why not just bring her back?

"Yes, that’s just it. I want reassurance that Royale Cove is the right place for her. You found the person who was robbing her before. Take a look at the