Polly Dent Loses Grip (A LaTisha Barnhart Mystery) (2 page)

“Did the same thing. Car was dented all over. Course my car was a new model. Name’s Gertrude Herrman.” She nodded over at Mitzi and held the door for me as I neared. “This here is
—
”

“Already told her.” Mitzi clanged her walker forward. “I’ve got a mouth of my own, ya know, Gertie.”

Gertrude frowned
.How’d these two stay
friends
?
For the second time that day, I reeled off the pertinent details. No, I’m not a resident. Yes, my mother-in-law was
settled
in her apartment, room 207 to be exact. And, yes, the
short
black man is my husband Hardy.

Gertrude’s voice stirred some of the slumbering residents as we entered the community room and headed toward the elevators. The doors swished open upon our approach and out stepped none other than Polly Dent, with a tall, slightly stooped man leaning on a gold-headed cane, at her side.

“Thomas, dear!” Gertrude gave a little shimmy of excitement. For a woman of her, uh, voluminousness, it wasn’t a pretty sight. Like a stone in water. Lotsa ripples. “You going for a walk?”

The man waited for Polly to precede him off the elevator before sending Gertrude a tolerant smile. “It’s lunchtime. Would you care to join us?”

Gertrude’s lower lip protruded. Polly laid a hand on Thomas’s arm, her eyes issuing a challenge to Gertrude. For sure, all was not sweetness and light between these two.

I stepped onto the elevator. Mitzi followed, muttering, but Gertrude held the doors open with her hand. She pointed toward me. “Thomas, have you met Mrs. Branstarch? Her mother’s moving in
—
”

“To my apartment,” Polly finished. “I’ve already been assured by Mr. Payne that my name is on the list for that room.”

Thomas stared between the two women a minute before he stepped forward, hand extended toward me. “I’m sure your mother will enjoy living here.”

“Please, call me LaTisha.”

“A lovely name.”

His breath came out in a cloud of minty freshness. Nice. And I could see where these two ladies would be addled over such a man. Charm. Warmth. Septuagenerian cute. But I had work to do, and more than anything, I wanted to drag Gertie into the elevator and get on up to momma’s apartment, so I could have some things put away before she woke from her nap.

Gertrude leaned into Thomas as he withdrew, clinging to his arm a moment. “Thanks for inviting me. I’ll be down shortly.” She paused a beat, and sent Polly a saccharine smile. “Why don’t we make it a foursome by inviting Mr. Payne? He and Polly seemed so comfortable with each other last night. I’m sure he’d adore the opportunity to spend more time with her.”

Classic cat-fight. Polly’s claws extended, lightning flashed in her eyes. That is, until Thomas’s head swiveled her direction. Her glare smeared into a polite, if not a little tight, smile.

Gertrude backpedaled into the elevator, waved at Polly and Thomas, like Miss America newly crowned, and jammed her thumb on the
CLOSE DOOR
button.

Chapter Two

Hardy slipped into Momma’s room as I finished unpacking the last box. Just like a man. “Where you been? I’ve unloaded all these boxes by myself.”

He cocked his hip and struck a pose. “Notice anything different?”

“Your hip out of joint?”

“No.” He lifted his chin higher, holding his Mr. Universe pose.

I stared at the golf ball-sized muscle in his bicep. Hadn’t grown one iota since I married him. When he went to carry me over the threshold after our wedding, I had to keep one foot on the floor to help him out.

I took a step closer to him. With his head angled backward, I did notice one thing. “Another limb has sprouted.”

His posture shriveled. The prospect of another tree branch sprouting from his nose always humbled Hardy. He glared at me and stroked a finger under his nose. “How does that stuff grow so fast? I bushwhacked ‘em three nights ago.”

“Is that what you wanted me to notice?”

He plucked at his ears. “Got any new ones in here?”

I looked. “Nope.” He disappeared into M
omma’s
spare room. “You gonna answer me or not? What you come strutting in here for me to notice?”

He reappeared with his nose-hair clips. “They’ve got a great exercise room, so I tried it out.” He moved into the bathroom.

I couldn’t bear to watch. I shut the door. Some things are just personal.

“I hope they have
an aide in that gym
.” I could only imagine all those shuffling feet and weakened limbs straining and stressing. Sounded like a good way to get sued.

“
The trainer
was closing for the day as I left. Someone’s always in there during hours. She told me I was in great shape.”

My eyes crossed in exasperation. So that’s what all this was about. Based on what this attendant lady sees on a daily basis, I could agree. “Probably says that to everyone.”

He flung open the door. “You don’t think I look good?”

“Oh, honey, you sure do look fine. And you’re all mine.” I lost the sweet tone and wagged my finger at him. “And don’t you be forgetting it.”

He grinned. “Just making sure you’re noticing.”

I put a hand out to balance myself, feeling suddenly exhausted. I’d probably overdone it again. It never failed to irk me how my body protested to what my mind said I could do. I sagged against the doorframe.

Hardy touched my arm. “You don’t look so good, LaTisha. Sit down. I’ll finish cleaning up this mess.”

The extra wide recliner felt good. Jerking the thing off the trailer, into the building, and up to this room had been a job for two people. I should have waited for Hardy, but the dolly had helped, though the maintenance man could have offered a hand instead of being content to suck on that cigarette.

“Where’d you run off to after visiting the workout room?” I asked Hardy.

“Mr. Payne had told me to drop by later, so I did. He wanted time to check his records and make sure there wasn’t a mix-up with that apartment being double-booked. There wasn’t
,
and he said he’d have a talk with Polly.” He wiggled his fingers. “Guess what I found? They got a piano in that downstairs common area. Kawai. Didn’t sound too bad to my ear, so I spent a while at the piano taking requests from the residents, then saw Polly with Mr. Payne near the cafeteria. I decided to go have my talk with Mrs. Dent. She wasn’t in the cafeteria, but I heard a buzzing sound and found her in the gym mumbling something about people being tested or late or something.”

“Thought you said it was closed.”

“It was. Closes at two.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I told her I’d talked to Mr. Payne. She kind of gave me a weird look and flicked
on
the treadmill without saying a word. I’m thinking she’s not going to take this lying down.”

Hardy stood where I’d left him, eyes roving over all the boxes and knick-knacks. This boy needed some direction. “You can start by taking those boxes out of here. And you need to be telling me what you and Otis were whispering about after Polly finished shouting at Momma that this was her apartment.”

He lifted the stack, “Just said she sometimes got confused.” He balanced the stack and with his free hand tugged open the door, letting his foot swing it wide. Next thing I knew, boxes were slipping and his arms were flailing. In the settling dust, I spied a petite young Asian woman, hand covering her mouth, a large metal cart separating her from the doorway. She yanked the cart aside and rushed to help Hardy to his feet.

“Oh, sir, please excuse. I’m so sorry to leave the cart out where you trip.”

Hardy rebounded quite well. “It just startled me
,
and I tripped on the carpet when I stepped back.” He gathered his boxes with the little nurse’s help, but I saw the telltale raspberry tint on his chocolate skin.

She angled the cart so Hardy could pass, plucked up a cup of pudding and walked it over to me. “This is your snack for the evening, Mrs. Barnhart. If you need help, you can call on the button in your room.” She tapped her nametag. Susan Mie.

Hardy paused long enough to look at me with an expression that said he wanted to erupt in laughter.

You know, I was beginning to get a complex. Maybe I should do those Micro-braids after all. I sure didn’t feel as old as I apparently looked. And Hardy—I was gonna jerk a knot on his head—I heard him snickering the whole way down the hall.

Deep breath. Count to ten. “Honey, I’ll be good and
be
sure the resident gets this. Her name is Matilda Barnhart. I’m her daughter-in-law.”

Sue Mie’s eyes widened. “Please to know. I am sorry.” She uncapped a pen and made a note on a piece of paper. With another nod and quick smile, she shoved her cart forward to the next door and knocked. I heard her call out, “Snack time.”

I decided I’d best move the car out from guest parking, but when I tried to get to my feet, my sight got swimmy. Beads of sweat burst out on my forehead. I collapsed back in the chair. On second thought, I’d stay put for a few minutes, at least until Hardy got back.

Someone was shaking me. Hard.

“LaTisha?”

“What you doing? I’m awake.” I peeled my eyes open and focused on Hardy’s anxious face. My head felt all cottony.

“Tish, something awful’s happened. You gotta come downstairs with me. She’s dead.”

I blinked and pushed the recliner’s footrest down. Hardy didn’t look so good. His eyes rolled around so much I could see the whites, a sure sign he was scared. That’s when his last couple of words registered. My heart clenched. “Who’s dead?”

Surely not my mother-in-law. . .

“Polly Dent. Seems she had a bad fall on the treadmill. She’s dead.”

It took me a second to place the name with the face—the scrappy little woman demanding this room. “You find her?”

“No. Mitzi Mullins did. I was coming back from the dumpster and saw Mitzi, her face was real white. . .”

His complexion faded from dark chocolate to milk, and he swayed on his feet. I got up and pushed him down in the recliner real quick-like. He’d passed out on me before after laying eyes on a dead body, and I wasn’t inclined to haul his limp carcass around to a doctor’s office. “The police or someone here yet?”

He shrugged. “The on-duty nurse called the staff doctor and Mr. Payne.” Hardy raised his desperate gaze to mine. “What if they heard me and Polly arguing in the gym and think I did it?”

“You talked to her?” I prodded.

“In the gym. On my way to the dumpster area to throw away those boxes. I saw her in the gym, up on a treadmill, and I asked her, nice-like, if Otis had talked to her yet. She got real mad and called
M
omma a few names. Told me she’d make sure
Momma
didn’t get this
here
apartment. She made me mad, real mad. I told her to shut her trap and left. I didn’t hurt her none, honey, I promise.”

Chapter Three

“You gonna look?” Hardy’s voice trembled as he popped his head up over my shoulder, then ducked again. The slim, vertical window in the door leading into the gym limited my view.

“No. I’m standing here with my eyes closed. What do you think I’m doing?”

“Is she moving?”

“Not a mite. Can’t see much of her though. A foot . . .the left side of her body . . .powdery stuff on the floor. . .treadmills. . .water cooler. . .”

“You going in?”

You crazy? I didn’t feel too great. My legs were all quivery, but it wouldn’t do any good to get in a state. If I lost it, Hardy’d melt into a puddle. He didn’t do blood, guts, or dead bodies, especially when the three were united. I turned away from the door and tugged him along. “Let’s go talk to Mr. Payne. I’m wondering why the police aren’t here yet.”

We backtracked past a closed door to the next
,
where Mr. Payne’s secretary, Miss Pillsbury, sat shuffling papers
.She appeared
appropriately harried and concerned, given the dead body down the hall.

Images of the Pillsbury dough boy with a wig and a few more curves came to me as I greeted the buxom woman with pencil thin lips and heavy makeup. Pillsbury boy goes drag.

Her eyes cruised the length and breadth of me, which took a few minutes since I wasn’t exactly scrawny.

“I need to see Mr. Payne, honey. It’s about Polly Dent.”