Danny: A Novel, Book 4: MT Romance Series

By Marti Talbott

It happens all the time – parents save money for retirement, and the kids call to say they can't pay their rent. The parent doesn't want grandchildren out on the street, so the money is "loaned." Then, when the money runs out, the kids stop calling. There are worse things than physical elder abuse – much worse!

 

Laura never told anyone the horrible truth about Danny's death, but when two old friends showed up at her house unannounced, and saw the portrait on her wall, the truth was impossible to hide.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: MT Creations
• Release date: May 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201082796

Marti Talbott

Marti Talbott (www.martitalbott.com) is the author of over 40 books, all of which are written without profanity and sex scenes. She lives in Seattle, is retired and has two children, five grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. The MacGreagor family saga begins with The Viking Series and continues in Marti Talbott’s Highlander’s Series, Marblestone Mansion, the Scandalous Duchess series, and ends with The Lost MacGreagor books. Her mystery books include Seattle Quake 9.2, Missing Heiress, Greed and a Mistress, The Locked Room, and The Dead Letters. Other books include The Promise and Broken Pledge.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

9 -1-1, what is your emergency?

Natalie, it’s Grace Taylor over at Happy Hills Assisted Living. One of our residents is missing.

In her early thirties, Natalie Larrick sighed. Over the years, the town of Stonecliff had become a coveted retirement community, especially for senior citizens who needed to make their retirement income last longer. Along with it came multiple nursing homes and assisted living facilities. It was a lucrative business for a small town that was on the edge of dying.

What Mayor Dallarosa worried about most, was the town getting a bad reputation. Therefore, a missing senior was a big deal. Furthermore, all the 9-1-1 calls were piped into the mayor’s office, so Natalie had to watch what she said, handling calls with the utmost professionalism. It wasn’t easy. Natalie knew the town well and was friends with almost everyone. She also knew that any minute now, the mayor would be standing over her shoulder watching her every move.

Which resident is it? Natalie asked.

Her name is Gail Bowden and she’s seventy-six, Grace answered. She can’t have gone far. She broke her hip last year and uses a walker.

Normally, the small town of Stonecliff needed only one dispatcher for each eight-hour shift, and the person with the most seniority was awarded the day shift. That person was Natalie. Among her equipment was a computer keyboard, a tower computer and a twenty-inch monitor that served to display incoming and outgoing calls. A larger flat screen monitor had six open windows, one for each of the six traffic cams strategically positioned around town. Unfortunately, none of them were anywhere close to the Happy Hills Assisted Living facility. Right behind the pretty brunette with dimples in her cheeks, was a door that led to Mayor Dallarosa’s office.

The police station in downtown Stonecliff was one of the few buildings actually made of stone, the kind of stone used by the westward pioneers to build their meager lodgings. Aside from Natalie’s small 9-1-1 station, it housed both the police station, the jail, the mayor’s office, and the sheriff’s office, should the county ever be able to afford a sheriff. At the front was a reception area, staffed by an on-duty officer working behind a standard counter, a locked, glass enclosed gun cabinet, a camera on a stand permanently pointed at a white wall and a fingerprinting station.

On her keyboard, Natalie typed Gail Bowden’s name and a second later, Gail’s statistics and picture appeared on her monitor. Have you looked for her? Natalie asked Grace.

I walked around the building and looked up and down the streets, but Mary called in sick and I’m alone here. I can’t leave the other residents.

I understand. How long has she been missing?

It’s hard to say. I was busy helping Sherman. He was upset because he couldn’t get the internet to come up ... on his space heater.

Natalie suppressed her laughter, but there was no mistaking her grin. Did any of the other residents see her leave?

If they did, they’re not talking. It’s the most exciting thing to happen here in weeks. They’re all gathered in the community room waiting for the cops to come.

Natalie Larrick knew exactly what Nurse Grace was talking about. One of the paramedics, the good looking one, often joked about the old ladies wanting to touch his tattoos. Well, we wouldn’t want to deprive them of a little excitement. What was Gail wearing?

Her favorite outfit. It’s blue pedal pushers with a matching blouse. Good thing it’s not that cold outside.

Try not to worry, we’ll find her.

Thank you. I suppose I’ll have to call her daughter and I’m dreading it. Melissa Allen is a plague on steroids, especially when it comes to her mother. Please let me know as soon as you find Gail.

I will, Natalie promised. As soon as she disconnected the call, she began notifying the officers on the day shift. With less than 60,000 people, a third of which were farmers, the department usually didn’t need more than four police and two highway patrol officers on either of the two twelve-hour shifts. Two of the police officers were assigned to the rural areas, leaving only two to watch over the town.

Natalie adjusted her headset slightly, hit a key on her keyboard and announced an all-points bulletin, Be advised of a missing senior citizen.

Officer Owen Bullara , nicknamed Bull, was on his regular route which included the heart of the town’s business district and all the side streets. Traffic was light at that time of morning, so he slowed and pulled to the side of the main four-lane street. Pinned on the right shoulder of his uniform, Bull turned his two-way radio handset toward his mouth, and held the transmit button down. I thought they had Theo all locked up tight.

It isn’t Theo this time, Natalie corrected. It’s Mrs. Gail Bowden, that’s b.o.w.d.e.n. She lives in Happy Hills Assisted Living over on Third Street. Mrs. Bowden shouldn’t be hard to find. She uses a walker.

Seated on the passenger side of the police car, Bull’s partner, Officer Cameron Fisher, typed Gail’s name on their mobile computer keyboard. Connected to the police department’s computer, Gail’s statistics, picture, and incident log quickly came up. A note under the picture allowed that it was taken a good twenty years ago, which explained why Gail didn’t look like a woman in her seventies.

Cameron Fisher had only been on the force for two weeks and was still learning the local ropes. He came from Los Angeles where he’d been an officer on duty through all the pandemic rioting, burning and looting. Tired of the whole mess, he sought a job in a place that was a lot more laid back and found what he was looking for.

Stonecliff was nestled in a pleasant valley near a major river that eventually flowed into the Pacific Ocean. The town had a sufficient hospital, and a thriving shopping mall where the elderly could go for long walks out of the winter cold and the harsh summer sun. For out-of-town transportation, Stonecliff offered a small airport, bus station, and a passenger train that passed through the valley twice a day, one going east and one going west.

The people in Stonecliff were mostly law abiding citizens. Occasionally someone got caught drunk driving, there was a fight at one of the local bars, or the officers had to respond to a traffic accident. Sometimes, there were horrific car wrecks, usually involving teenagers showing off, but those were rare. The worst one left a fourteen-year-old in a coma for six months before she finally succumbed to her injuries.

What have you got? Bull asked his partner as he pulled back into traffic and turned toward Third Street.

She’s five-five and a longtime resident of Stonecliff. No arrests, no warrants, and has never gotten lost before. Her address is listed as 115 Cherry Street.

Oh, I remember her, Bull muttered. Nice lady, which is more than I can say for her daughter, Melissa Allen. Watch out for that one, she’s got a temper and can turn on you in a flash.

Thanks for the warning.

Any idea what Gail Bowden is wearing?

A blue pedal pusher outfit. Cameron wrinkled his brow. What exactly is a pedal pusher outfit?

It’s cut-offs just below the knee for old ladies.

Oh. Cameron turned his attention back to surveying the people walking up and down the street. On the north side of town, the houses were newer, bigger and mostly owned by the business executive, doctor and lawyer types. South of downtown, the houses were old with some that should have been torn down long ago, but were still occupied. Happy Hills was situated in a converted two-story apartment building on the south side.

It wasn’t long before Bull turned down Third Street and slowly began to drive down the block, looking for an elderly woman with a walker.

Laura’s reoccurring dream always ended the same way.

Wearing his U.S. Army dress uniform, Danny stood behind the railing on the top deck of a transport ship, and searched for her in the crowd of excited families waiting for their returning soldiers below. The crowd oddly parted, Danny ran toward her and the very moment he was about to take her in his arms, Laura abruptly woke up.

It was always the same and it always made her catch her breath. Wide awake now, she muttered, Stop haunting me.

Laura was well aware of why he haunted her and she deserved it – it was her fault he died.

In a queen-size bed that was much too big for one person, she turned over and tried to go back to sleep, but it was hopeless. The digital clock on her night stand read 9:05, so she moved the bed covers aside, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and slipped her feet into her slippers. She’d forgotten to turn off her television the night before and the morning news was on, so she listened while she headed to the attached master bathroom.

Laura Williams was a self-imposed recluse. She had two major problems. First, she was born with diminished vision in one eye, and old age was weakening the vision in her other eye. Thankfully, her acute ability to hear even minor noises compensated for her loss of sight. Second, she suffered from a genetic heart defect that caused an abnormal heart rhythm, palpitations and an occasional dizzy spell.

She didn’t mind being alone. In fact, she preferred it. To pass the time she often spent the day lost in the pages of a book, enjoying soft classical music with speakers in every room throughout her house. For exercise, she went for a swim in her indoor pool, took a shower, dried her shoulder-length, nearly white hair, and then dressed in the same clothes she put on that morning.

At age seventy-five, her life was just as structured as it had been when she was in high school. She did everything according to a well-established routine, although she made some allowances in her daily schedule when her painful joints reared its ugly head. That fateful morning, she brushed her teeth, and then combed her hair. She thought about putting on makeup, but what for? She wasn’t expecting company. Next, she got her favorite burgundy velour jumpsuit out of the closet and put it on. She’d lost weight and the jumpsuit was baggy, but that didn’t matter either.

After she made her bed, coffee and a couple of over-the-counter pain pills were next on her schedule.

It was just as she was about to leave the bedroom that she heard the sound of a door closing. She immediately turned the volume down on the television and listened. Did the sound come from inside her house, or did a neighbor slam a door loud enough for her to hear? Her security alarm hadn’t gone off, and she was fastidious about making sure her doors and windows were locked before she went to bed, so she convinced herself it was a neighbor. Just the same, she cautiously crept down the short hallway, and then peeked around the corner into her living room.

No one was there.

Releasing her held breath, Laura was halfway through the living room when she noticed something unusual – very unusual. On the coffee table was something she certainly didn’t leave there. It was a medical mask with strings that looped around the ears, and one of the strings was broken. Home invaders and murders were practically unheard of in the town of Delta, but someone was definitely in her house. She didn’t pick the mask up, but she did stare at it for a long moment. Who still wore a mask now that the pandemic was over?

Laura slowly turned so she could more closely survey the room. Nothing seemed to be missing, but the door to her coat closet was not completely closed. Leaving a door partially open was not like her at all, but at her age, anything was possible. She decided the idea that someone was in her house was ridiculous, so she drew in a deep breath and challenged the unlikelihood of an intruder, You can come out now.

To Laura’s horror, the closet door slowly began to open. Her heart began to race and she thought to run, but where to? Making it past the coat closet to the front door was out of the question. She was about to head through the kitchen to the back door, when she saw the muzzle of a pistol.

Laura froze.

The woman in the closet used her gun to push the door open wide, and then grinned at her oldest and dearest friend.

With her hand over her heart, Laura breathed, Kristy, put that gun down before you shoot someone!

Don’t worry, Kristy said, leaving the closet door open as she walked to the middle of Laura’s oversized living room, I only had one bullet and I used that on the cab driver.

Laura closed her eyes for a moment, willing her heart to stop pounding. She’d known Kristy for as long as she could remember, and no one loved telling a tall tale more than Kristy. However, once in a while, it wasn’t a tall tale. Just to make sure, Laura went to the window and parted the curtains just enough to peek out. I don’t see a cab. You must have missed.

No I didn’t. Kristy balked. She set the gun and her clutch bag on the coffee table next to the medical mask, and chose to sit in an arm chair. At least I don’t think I missed.

Laura let the curtains fall closed, turned around and closely observed the friend she hadn’t seen in more than sixty years. I can’t believe you still wear sack dresses and that old gray floppy hat. She noticed Kristy’s tiny diamond pierced ear rings and a small heart tattoo on her right forearm, but she didn’t mention either of those.

This hat has sentimental value. Besides, it’s part of my disguise.

Laura rolled her eyes, Uh huh. She went to the closet, looked inside just in case Kristy hadn’t been in there alone, and closed the door.

If you must know, my hat covers the slightly thinning hair on the top of my head. I knew getting old would be unpleasant, but I never expected to go bald. I hate getting old, don’t you?

Very much. How did you get in ...

Kristy held up her hand to silence Laura, Wait, I almost forgot. She struggled to pull her cell phone out of her skirt pocket, punched a number, and brought the phone up to her ear. Come on in. She’s awake.

Who are you talking to? Laura asked.

You’ll see.

Fine. I’m going to make coffee. Instead, Laura stopped to listen to the noise coming from outside her front door. What’s that?

It’s Gail’s walker. She only needs it to get up the steps. Kristy drew in a sharp breath. Oh dear, I spoiled the surprise. Act like you don’t know she’s coming, okay?

Gail was the last person Laura ever wanted to see again. It was too late to object and there was no way to avoid the questions Gail would soon have, so Laura pretended not to care. Okay. You open the door for her and I’ll make coffee.

Deal, Kristy said, putting her phone away and standing up, but just so you know, I blocked the backdoor so you couldn’t run off.

Laura smiled when she entered the kitchen and saw a chair wedged under the backdoor knob. Normally, that technique was used to keep someone from coming in, not from going out. Oh well, that was the same old Kristy Laura knew and loved. In the kitchen, she took a moment to get a glass of water and her pain pills out of the cupboard. She quickly downed two pills, drank the water, and then set the glass aside. She poured water in the coffee pot reservoir, placed a filter in the basket, and had added two scoops of ground coffee before she heard the front door close.

Laura heard Gail’s voice, pushed the coffeepot’s start button, lowered her gaze and waited for the inevitable.

Would you look at that! Gail shouted.

Laura could hear Kristy gasp and then say, Oh dear, what has Laura done?

CHAPTER 2

Her secret was out – the secret Laura never meant for anyone else to see, especially Gail. She went to stand in the living room doorway and defensively folded her arms. Gail? Laura asked with a touch of excitement in her voice. I’m happy to see you.

Standing in the middle of the room next to Kristy, Gail stared at the four-foot, gold framed portrait of Danny, Gail’s teenage boyfriend.

At length, Gail turned to look at Laura. Who are you?

We came to see Laura, remember? said Kristy

Gail slumped, and turned to face Kristy. If I remembered, I wouldn’t have asked.

Sorry, said Kristy.

Gail’s walker was pushed against the wall in the front door entry way, and she was wearing a light blue pedal pusher outfit that hadn’t been popular since the sixties. Gail’s nail polish was as bright as her red lipstick and she wore a ring on each of her fingers, including her wedding ring set. In her left hand, she held the handle of a larger than usual purse.

Gail turned again to face Laura. You got old.

That happens to the best of us.

Gail frowned. Why do you have a portrait of Danny on your wall?

Laura looked at Kristy. In all these years and you haven’t told her?

Kristy threw out both of her hands palm up. It wasn’t my place to tell her.

Tell me what? Gail insisted.

Laura ignored the question and went back to the kitchen to pull three coffee cups out of the cupboard. She set them beside the coffeepot, and then got a carton of cream out of the refrigerator. Next, she poured the cream into a small pitcher, and then got her filled sugar bowl out of the cupboard. From the kitchen, she could hear Gail grilling Kristy.

Tell me, Gail demanded, what do you know that I don’t know?

Plenty, Kristy answered.

Gail raised her voice a full octave, You’re not going to tell me are you?

Nope. It’s up to Laura to tell you if she wants to, which I don’t suppose she does – at least not this early in the morning.

Coffee will be ready in a moment, Laura announced as she returned to the living room. Her four-bedroom house was only two years