Screamers: Meet the Love Sleuth: Book 1

By Bee Douma

"New Hope Care Center" the simple oval sign stated. Marking the entrance, it had been placed at the apex of the broad curving drive that was lined with sturdy maple trees.

When Gerilee Serilium came to work that Thursday in August, she read the sign. "New Hope Care Center--" Pausing, she said, "I like the name. I think my next question for Mrs. Waterson will be to ask how she and her late husband chose the name." Gerilee experienced serenity, even with the early morning sound of mowers in the spacious front lawn.

Mr. WWW III stood beside the open limo door and noticed the sign. "New Hope. This may be my last hope."

Suddenly, the memories flood into his mind--Fritz in Bio 101, their dream of a care center together. This time, though, when the memories came, he could no longer ignore them and shove them aside. Then the repeating question that always followed, "Why? Why? Why?" But there was never an answer.

The question uppermost on his mind today was, what if Margaret, good as she was, could not handle his mother's constant screaming?

Inside the care center, at room 397, Mrs. Waterson saw William. When he turned to flee, she called out to him, "Oh no! You don't run now! Erica, take him to the quiet spot. I will meet with him out there."

New Hope opens a door to possible change and freedom. Freedom? But from what? Anger? Suspicion? Torn emotions? Rejection? Lost dreams?

Enjoy the journey with me as a variety of screamers meet the love sleuth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798885403832

Book preview

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Screamers

Meet the Love Sleuth: Book 1

Bee Douma

ISBN 979-8-88540-382-5 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88540-383-2 (digital)

Copyright © 2023 by Bee Douma

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

About the Author

Chapter 1

Gerilee Serilium smiled as she started up the sidewalk toward the entrance of the New Hope Care Center. Her usual entry for work was at the rear entrance, but today, she had decided to come around to the front. Every time she came this way, she was reminded that she was a small part of something much bigger.

She felt again the quiet sense of security she experienced each time she came this way. The original mansion had been built by Fritz Waterson's grandparents in the early 1900s. Six sturdy white columns had been placed on each side of the expansive curving porch in support of the roof.

Gerilee smiled, remembering her first impression of the porch. She had imagined a spacious dinner party being served, and maybe a string quartet placed to one side. Today, a variety of clustered chairs and some small tables offered an invitation for visitors to sit a while.

What a beautiful place, she thought, approaching the front steps. There is an aura of peace and quiet, and yes, of new hope. I really like the name they chose for this place. It fits! she whispered. I think my next question for Mrs. Waterson will be how they chose the name.

With answers she had received from earlier questions, Gerilee knew some of the story regarding the New Hope Care Center.

While in med school, Fritz Waterson and his best friend, William W. Westerlake III, had dreamed together of a clinic. When his grandparents had passed away, they left the mansion, all the property, and their vast fortune in trust for Fritz. As the dream for the clinic began to take shape, Fritz started doodling ideas, centering them around the mansion. He had lived here with his grandparents for some time as a small child.

With his intimate knowledge of the buildings and the layout of the land, his doodling soon began to take shape. Between classes and studying, Fritz drew detailed plans for constructing extensive halls. Two of these were placed on the east and then two more on the west side of the mansion. These he connected by a shorter hall across the outer ends. The wide white trim around the tall windows and roof facing and the deep wine brick of the mansion continued on each hall.

Fritz was planning for a care center as well as the clinic, so he created more detail in his plans. Offices, examination rooms, resident rooms, nurses' stations, a laundry, cafeteria, and dining area were among the many rooms he incorporated.

When the two young doctors came back to Westerville, it was soon apparent the clinic together would not be a possibility. Suddenly, William was involved with the Westerlake Department Store. Then Fritz's exhaustion drove him back to the Brooklyn Hospital, where the friends had recently completed their internship.

The shocking news of leukemia pushed him to get as much as possible done for the care center. He had secured all the permits, the contractor, and then was able to observe the ground-breaking and a large portion of the construction.

Because of his own illness, he added a broad curving ramp from the east side of the spacious front porch around to the sidewalk he had planned.

Fritz's design for the rear entrance of the complex was protected by a large overhanging roof mimicking the front. The more slender columns were clustered in sets of three, so they allowed emergency vehicles access to the entrance via the extra wide drive through ramp.

Centered between the two sets of forward columns, several steps with handrails, led to the level of a large parking area.

A smaller lot was designed to fit in the front beside the ramp and was carefully landscaped. Gerilee had parked her car in this smaller lot this morning.

She felt the gentle breeze that had passed through the tree line beside her and had touched her cheek. Smiling, she remembered the day she mentioned these beautiful maple trees to Mrs. Waterson.

Did I get too nosey? Gerilee had wondered when Mrs. Waterson didn't answer immediately.

Gerilee, she finally said, speaking quietly, "planting those trees together was the last thing Fritz was physically able to do. We worked together, making certain they were spaced evenly along the side of the curving entry drive. Those towering trees were mere saplings when we planted them. I thought they looked vulnerable, being so spindly and all, but Fritz reminded me they will grow.

It was hard for him, but Fritz insisted on helping. Taking our time, at first, we were able to plant three of them in a day. Then it would be two. By the end of the second week— Mrs. Waterson paused remembering those last several trees. By the end of the second week, it was one a day. When the last one was in, Fritz let out with a war hoop yell. ‘I knew He would help us do it!' he told me. The next week, he was learning to negotiate a wheelchair around the area. Gerilee, I have learned many lessons from those trees.

The sound of several lawn mowers nudged Gerilee out of her reverie. The landscape crew is already at work, she thought, I'd better do the same.

With their approaching sound, she knew they would be mowing the broad flowing front lawn first. Margaret Waterson, Fritz's widow, who was now the owner and administrator of the Care Center, had simply given the crew boss freedom. Just keep it looking beautiful and inviting had been her sole instruction to him.

Gerilee hesitated on the top step when she saw her reflection in one of the tall windows. She tucked the curled strand of blonde hair that had escaped her ponytail in behind her ear. Smiling at her reflection, she was glad she had chosen the lightweight teal seersucker uniform for today since it was past the middle of August, and the temperature was expected to reach the high nineties. A sensation of peace surprised her when Gerilee realized in that instant there was no feeling of loneliness at seeing herself standing alone.

She enjoyed working here, but today she needed to speak with Ms. D. Doverlen, her supervisor, about her schedule.

Help me, God, she breathed. I know You are with me. Please give me the right words, and help me to be gracious to this woman. Thank You, Lord.

Gerilee, you just love her for Me. I am with you, always.

Crossing the spacious porch, Gerilee was reaching for the door handle when it opened from the inside. Hi, Erica, she said, are you leaving already?

No, responded the pert little receptionist. Her short brown hair fluffed in the breeze as she held the door ajar. Her soft yellow slack suit set off the dark brown of her eyes. I saw you coming up the steps, and I was waiting for you. Actually, she said quietly, I want to warn you today may not be a good day to talk with her. She is really in her ‘Doberman' mood. We have a new patient, a difficult one.

Erica, you are special, but I must talk with her today. School starts in a week, and I have not had time to—

Whoever is out there, either come in or go out, but whichever you are going to do, shut the door!

Recognizing the voice, Gerilee looked up. The woman in question was standing just outside the door of her office. Good morning, Ms. Doverlen.

"I don't know what's good about it. But I need to see you about a change in your day, Mrs. Serilium. Now." Huffing, Ms. Doverlen returned to her office.

Geri, Erica whispered, be careful. I hope she isn't going to fire you.

I don't think that will happen. I know what I have to do, Gerilee said, squeezing her friend's hand. She turned toward the door marked Ms. D. Doverlen, Nursing Supervisor.

Love her for Me.

*****

Even though she knew she was expected to enter the room, Gerilee gently tapped the open door. Come in and shut the door, Ms. Doverlen ordered.

Gerilee pulled the door closed as she stepped inside the very austere office. It appeared as if the woman was packed up and ready to move out, except for one lone file on the desk.

Waiting for the tense woman seated behind the desk to speak, Gerilee thought, Her dark chestnut hair is pulled back tighter and piled higher into her bun than I remember ever seeing. The square of her jaw is set in such a hard and angry line. Even her nostrils are flaring anger at the tip of her sharp nose. She looks like she is ready to go into the boxing ring and is ready for the fight. Oh, Father, what's happening in her life that is causing her so much pain and anger?

The pencil Ms. Doverlen was holding in her white knuckled fingers snapped in two. Her tension reminds me of a balloon blown up to the point one is afraid to touch it lest it explode at the slightest touch. Father, Gerilee prayed in her mind, Ms. Doverlen looks so fragile in her anger.

Yes, she is very fragile, came the quiet affirmation.

How am I to love her?

Just as I love you.

Gerilee was watching Ms. Doverlen. Was that anguish? she thought as a very brief change of expression glimpsed over the woman's hard facial features. What is hurting her so much?

I realize you are not a nurse yet, Ms. Doverlen snapped, interrupting Gerilee's thoughts. But I know you have a way with patients. I am placing you in a position to care for the new patient. I want to see what you can do with her, she said snidely.

Ms. Doverlen paused, then continued in the same tone of voice, This patient is a very difficult person. It appears she has been in every nursing facility in the city, and this is the last resort. She appears to have had a stroke, but no medical records confirm that fact nor is there any medical reason for her condition. She is…well, you will find out when you go to the West Wing.

Rising from her chair, Ms. Doverlen's muscular five-foot-eleven height created a very imposing figure as she moved over and stood at the end of her desk.

Momentarily, Gerilee remembered how hard it was being the tallest kid in her class. She also remembered her joy in their junior year of high school. Randy finally reached five feet, six and a half inches, topping her by half an inch."

Is there something else? Ms. Doverlen snapped when Gerilee didn't move to leave.

I do need to talk with you about my schedule, perhaps later today. Moving slowly, she turned slightly, reaching her hand toward the door. Still looking at Ms. Doverlen, Gerilee smiled and started, I was just wondering—

There will not be any conversation about schedule changes. After a few hours, you may want to reconsider on your own, she interrupted.

The brusqueness didn't bother Gerilee. She smiled as she moved toward the door. Thank you, ma'am.

Given a little while, I doubt that you will be thanking me, she said with a smirk. Now get out of my office and get to work.

I will check and see if Mrs. Waterson is in, unless you have a name and any helpful history, she said, turning back toward the imposing woman.

You have all the ‘history' that is available for you at present, and Mrs. Waterson has the name. Any questions you have about the new patient, direct them to her. She is the one who agreed to give this a trial period. She turned on her heel and returned to her chair. Now go, I have work to do. And close the door as you leave.

Gerilee smiled as she turned to leave. Thank you, again. I will do my best to honor your trust in me. She left the office but turned again toward Ms. Doverlen, I pray God will bless you today as you are blessing others.

Before there could be any response, Gerilee gently closed the door. She looked across the open lobby and smiled as the petite secretary's eyebrows went up. No loud exit? Erica asked.

What do you mean? Gerilee responded.

I just hear a lot of loud voices when others leave her office. What happened?

I have been given a special patient with very little information. I am to check with Mrs. Waterson for a name.

Oh, Geri, Erica groaned, she gave you the screamer! I am so sorry. I think she is trying to make you angry and hurt you.

What do you mean by the screamer?

Mrs. Waterson came in while you were with Ms. Doverlen. She wants to see you immediately. Her door is open.

Gerilee walked past the end of the receptionist's desk and headed across the lobby toward Mrs. Waterson's office. She tapped on the door and waited for the invitation to enter. Come on in, Gerilee. I have been expecting you.

She couldn't help comparing the two women—the one so hard and hurting her hair was pulled tightly and twisted into a large bun on the top of her head, the other so gentle and caring, like a perfect Mrs. Santa Claus. Except her dark hair isn't white yet, Gerilee thought.

Although Mrs. Waterson was not as tall nor as muscular as Ms. Doverlen, everyone knew which one was the owner/leader when they were in discussion/together. Mrs. Waterson had a way of looking at you, and you felt accepted and needed. She could also look at you, and you knew you were chided, and she didn't even say a word. There was just something about her gray eyes that spoke her acceptance or correction.

I think she expects the best from each of us working for her and seems to know how to make that very thing happen, Gerilee thought. But how could two such different people work so closely together, she wondered, especially when it has been at least seven years?

Mrs. Waterson gestured to the chair by her desk as she went around the desk and closed the door.

Taking a seat, Gerilee wondered about all the closed doors. Having worked here for almost a year now, she didn't remember ever entering this lobby and seeing all the doors closed. Could this have something to do with this new patient? she wondered.

Mrs. Waterson went back around the other end of her desk and then moved her chair closer to where Gerilee was sitting. Gerilee, she said as she sat down, I have a few questions. But, first, how did you get the name Gerilee?

That's an easy one, she replied. My mother wanted Geraldine, and my father said, ‘No way.' He wanted Leland. So they compromised and made it Gerilee. Why do you ask?

I am just curious. It's a beautiful name. Do you have any preference or use of nicknames?

Not really. Friends call me Geri. It's still hard for me to hear someone call me Ger. Mom does once in a while.

Oh?

Ger was Randy's name for me ever since he moved next door to us back in third grade, she said, sudden tears filling her eyes.

Gerilee, how are you doing? Mrs. Waterson asked. Has it been a year since his accident?

July 17 last year, Gerilee responded quietly. She wiped the tears away with the back of her hands.

Before I give you this new patient, I want to be sure you are okay. You have started working four days a week instead of the three you requested in your application. How does that work with home and four children?

In May, I volunteered to cover for Cindy Marks on a couple of weekends so she could go and care for her mother following surgery. For some reason, we have not been able to get that changed back to Cindy having the weekends she wants and needs and letting me go back to my three days.

School starts in another week, and you haven't had your weekends since May? Well, I will take care of that today, she said and made some notes on the pad on her desk. Then Mrs. Waterson asked, Do you believe in prayer?

Yes, responded slowly. Am I in trouble for praying with Mr. Gunter's family last week?

No, no. I just needed to know for certain because you will be doing a lot of praying with the new patient. In fact, I think you have been praying for Ms. Doverlen, haven't you?

Yes because I needed to talk with her about my schedule, and I wanted to be prepared.

I understand, Mrs. Waterson said, chuckling. She can be a difficult person to get along with, but she does a good job. I think today is the anniversary of her husband's death. I tried to give her the day off, but she refused, saying she didn't have anything else to do and didn't want to sit at home and get morbid.

Oh, my, I am so sorry!

Gerilee, I am telling you this so you will know how better to pray for her. Her marriage was not a happy one like yours was. I think she is envious of you and is extra hard on you for that reason.

Mrs. Waterson, this morning, God impressed on me to love her for Him. I know we are going to become best of friends, somewhere, somehow down the line.

I wonder if He has given you a bigger assignment than I am about to give you, she said with a smile. "Let me fill you in on this patient. She came in yesterday, late afternoon. She is a frail woman, eighty-two years old. She has lived in this city all her life and has probably been in nearly every nursing care facility around in the last year. She is very affluent. And she has one son who is, I've been told, at his wits end to know what to do for her.

There are no obvious medical reasons, multiple tests have been made, and yet she cannot—or will not—communicate verbally with anyone. She screams constantly, it seems, and she either cannot or will not move anything of her own volition. Now—she paused—are you interested in a challenge?

O-kay? Gerilee responded.

I would like for you to go with me, Mrs. Waterson continued, "and I will help you