What Stella Wants. Nancy Bartholomew
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relinquished my responsibilities for my cousin’s happiness and refocused my thoughts on Bitsy and Baby Blankenship.
I started by responding to Marygrace’s third page in thirty minutes, launching into an offensive before she could tackle me with another one of her verbal onslaughts.
“Jake’s on his way to the hospital now,” I said as soon as she came on the line. “We were checking with some of our informants, you know, for recently fenced stolen property that might’ve belonged to an elderly woman. It was a shot in the dark, what with most of your pawns consisting of tools and elec—”
“Never mind that!” Marygrace whispered into the phone. “We’ve got bigger fish to fry over here! The State’s in, and I don’t mean your regular auditor types. I think they’re feds!”
“What?” I looked up at the ceiling, hoping I was communicating directly with the Person or Persons in Charge. Why me? I asked silently. Is this paybacks for spying on Aunt Lucy? I’m telling you, I was only trying to protect her! And if this is about putting off Bitsy…Well, don’t you think I’m already feeling bad enough, now you gotta add feds to the mix? I could lose my license if they get pissy about things.
“Stella,” Marygrace snapped, forgetting to whisper. “Pay attention! The State comes in to audit nursing homes once a year. They come in any other time they feel like it, but most often it’s because someone’s made a complaint about something we’re doing or not doing to the old people. Well, they’re here, only I know all the State people and I’ve never seen these two, no matter what their credentials say.”
“Are they doing the regular things the State does when they come?”
“Hell, no! They asked for Baby’s chart and then they went into her room! She’s not there. There isn’t any reason for them to go in there, and the charge nurse says they’ve been looking all over her room. I think you’d better get Jake to lay low until they leave. I don’t want any more questions.”
“So, you want us to back off and let Baby come on back to the nursing home without any coverage.”
Marygrace sighed. “No. I want Jake to lay low, you know, don’t let the feds know who he is and what he’s doing.”
Right. Now that would be easy. What was he supposed to do, dress up like a nurse?
I hung up and dialed Jake’s cell phone number.
“Dr. Carpenter.” No hello. Just Jake sounding very professional and lying his ass off.
“This is Nurse Barbie calling. Wanna check my temperature?”
“I’m with a patient. Can it wait?”
“Jake, Marygrace just called. She thinks she’s got feds at the old folks home and she wants you to stick to Baby like glue, but disguise yourself.”
“No can do,” he said cryptically. “They are probably familiar with my work.”
“Nurse Barbie’s familiar with your work, too,” I said, and felt a familiar rush of warmth as I remembered his last house call.
“I think you should probably do the consult yourself. I’m in the middle of completing a consultation on a patient who’s about to be discharged.”
“You’ve got an audience and it’s more than Baby Blankenship, huh?”
“I’m sure your qualifications will more than meet the need.”
“Yours too, Doctor,” I cooed. “I guess I’ll see what I can round up before Baby gets back to the home. So, they’re about to ship her out?”
“Yes, absolutely. Within the hour. Feel free to consult with me after you’ve assessed the patient.”
“Oh, Doc, I do love it when you talk dirty!” I said and hung up.
Great. I had to go undercover at the nursing home where too many people had already seen me, and my black eye from the earlier tangle would be a certain giveaway. How was I going to pull this one off?
Thirty minutes later, after a visit to the attic and a search through a multitude of chests and boxes, I emerged from my room a changed woman. If Aunt Lucy arrived before I walked out the door, I was dead meat. I could justify it as having been done for a worthy cause, but knowing my aunt, this would cut no sway with her. Sacrilege is sacrilege.
When I walked into the kitchen, Spike looked up and did a double-take. Nina reflexively crossed herself.
“Oh no you didn’t!” she gasped. “That’s Aunt Cathy’s!”
“Was,” I corrected, crossing myself and murmuring. “May she rest in peace.”
Spike’s nose wrinkled. “You smell like cedar.”
“You look like…” Nina started, but I was already sweeping past her, headed for the door. “You’d better go to confession!” she yelled after me.
When I arrived at the nursing home, no one recognized me. Even Marygrace lowered her head and made the sign of the cross.
“Sister,” she said softly. “May I help you.”
I couldn’t help it. I giggled. “Yeah, Marygrace, you can introduce me as the new chaplaincy intern, here for the next few weeks.”
“Shit!” she cried, eyes widening. “Stella, is that you?” She got up from her desk and walked around to inspect me more closely. “Damn, you smell like mothballs or something!”
“It’s my great-aunt Cathy’s habit from back when she was in the convent.”
“What’d you do to your face to hide those bruises? You look pale.”
I smiled. “Well, the wimple hid most of the damage, but I had to use under-eye concealer to get the rest.”
Marygrace frowned at the heavy white cloth that framed my face. “Stella, do nuns even still wear habits? I thought they dressed in street clothes nowadays.”
I gave her a look. “I don’t know what they wear and it doesn’t really matter. All you have to do is make everyone believe I come from a small, conservative outfit that still does things the old-fashioned way. Besides, I doubt anybody’ll have the nerve to ask me about my wardrobe.”
A grim-faced trio entered the room led by a large, redheaded man in a gray suit. They stopped short as soon as they recognized my outfit.
“Oh, Marygrace, excuse us,” the redheaded man said. “I didn’t know you were busy.”
Marygrace smiled nervously, her fingers twisting the lanyard that held her nametag. “Oh, Darren, this is the new…chaplaincy intern, Sister…”
I stepped forward, held out my hand and tried to look severe and imposing. “Sister Angelina Jo-Joseph.” I looked straight into the administrator’s eyes, knowing he had to know Marygrace was lying because he’d have been informed of a new intern on staff, but daring him to give us away.
Darren looked startled, his pale skin reddening just slightly beneath the freckled surface.
“Glad to have you with us…Sister.” He glanced past me to Marygrace. “I hate to interrupt, but these gentlemen have a few questions for you concerning the record audits they’ve been doing.”
I took the social cue and smiled gracefully. “Well, if you don’t need me, Marygrace, I’ll just go down to the west wing and say a few prayers.”
Marygrace’s mouth opened, but she was at a loss for words. I made my way past the two broad-shouldered men in dark suits, committing their faces and general descriptions to memory as I went. The chances were slim that Jake would recognize them from my generic depiction; still I tried to pick out distinguishing characteristics. Crew cuts aside, they were both well over six feet tall, but one had a half-moon-shaped scar circling his left eyebrow and the other had the tip missing from his left ring finger.
The