Page 56 of Death on Riddle Road
“Nothing.I’d given the patient his medication and the boy sat there, beside him, watching him sleep, as if looking hard enough would tell him some secret.”
“Did it?”Clara asked softly.
The woman shook her head sharply.“Not that I could tell.The boy went away before long, without waking the patient, so he didn’t disrupt things too much.Not like that other.”
“You mean Derrick’s mother?”I clarified.
“Oh, her.Yes, her, too.Thinking she knew best about everything.Thinking she could tell me how to do my job.But I was thinking of that other one.Has the same last name.Earl, maybe?”
“Emil Dorrio?”
“That’s it.”
Clara and I carefully didn’t look at each other.
“That must have been difficult, having someone come in and try to tell you how to do your job when you do so much for the residents here,” Clara said with great empathy.
“Hetriedto tell me,” the aide said grimly.“But that’s all water under the bridge.And so will my break be, if I don’t—”
“Of course.Thank you so much for your time—I’m sorry, we didn’t get your name?”
“Sally,” she said.
Unexpectedly, she reached out and patted Clara’s arm.“You cared for your mother-in-law before her death, didn’t you?I heard about that.She was fortunate to have you.”
“I was fortunate to haveher.”Clara blinked, then cleared her throat.“As the residents here are fortunate to have you and the others.”
The woman huffed.“Tell that to Beverly Dorrio.You know it’s not even her family that had the money and influence.It was all the Dorrios.You’d think she’d be a bit more humble, considering I know exactly what and where she came from.As for Emil, he’s got the name, but that’s all.The old man — that was Yale’s daddy — accepted his son marrying down, as he’d say, but not his nephew and came as close to cutting that branch of the family off as you can get.Some say it served Yale right when Derrick got in trouble.
“In a way, I wish I had more to tell you.But I don’t.”She looked down the hall in the direction of her break.“Well, as I said—”
“Of course.Thank you, again,” Clara said.
With my added thanks, we sent her on to her break, heading the opposite direction from us.
Under her breath, Clara said as we continued toward the exit, “I sure hope Donna persuades Rose Gleiner to talk to us.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Evan Ferguson hadaged well.
Still as youthfully thin as in his photo, with all his hair and teeth, plus distinguished gray at the temples that added more dimension to his face.
Not the strongest face I’d ever seen.But maybe it wasn’t fair to compare, since Teague’s was the face that immediately came to mind as a standard and nobody would miss his strength of character.
I found it hard to connect this man with an ob-sex-sion, as Linda said at lunch.But maybe it was because of the circumstances.
Evan Ferguson didn’t look happy — a fretful worry behind the blue of his eyes.And since he was looking at Clara and me standing before him at the front door of his townhouse, it was hard not to take it a little personally.
The complex near Stringer was fairly new and entirely uninteresting.The soda crackers of housing.
As we’d arrived, we’d spotted him walking from his mid-range and practical sedan — remarkably like mine, as a matter of fact — carrying a bag of groceries.We caught him before he went inside.
“Yes?”
“Hello, my name’s Clara Woodrow and this is Sheila Mackey.We—”
His face lost color.“I’ve seen you on TV.I know who you are.”
