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“Her family didn’t help her out?”

“Teddy and Tony are the only ones still nearby and they’re useless. About five years ago Evie went to the nursing home when she couldn’t take care of herself anymore. I’ve visited her there. It’s... it’s not a nice place. But it’s probably where I’m going to end up, too, sooner rather than later. My kids are very good to me, but they have their own problems. And the nicer places cost way too much, far more than they could afford.”

“You could sell your house.”

“I don’t own it. I did one of those reverse mortgages. I needed the money to pay the bills. As soon as I’m gone they’ll take the house.”

Pine gazed around at the other homes. “I guess a lot of people are in that situation.”

“The government tells you to spend your money to help the economy, create jobs. And then when you do spend pretty much all of it, they turn around and tell you to save money because you’ll need it to retire on. So which is it?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the answer. I’m just sorry you have to be in this position.”

“At least I know I’ll end up with a roof over my head and three meals a day. I’ll just sit there in my own drool,” she added bitterly. “So much for the golden years.”

“You don’t know it’s that bad.”

“Most of my friends are in state-run nursing homes paid for by Medicaid and whatever dollars they have left. I visit them. It is that bad.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Look, do you know if Ito is still alive?”

“I don’t know that for sure. He just up and vanished one day. Long time ago.”

“Was it in the late eighties?” asked Pine sharply. “That’s when my sister was taken.”

“No, it wasn’t that far back” was her surprising reply. She mulled over this. “If I had to guess it was sometime around 9/11, or maybe the year after, but that’s all I can remember.”

“What did Evie think had happened to him?”

“I don’t know. Any time I brought it up, she changed the subject.”

“So she doesn’t know if he’s dead or alive?”

“Not that she ever told me. But him disappearing like that? It left a hole in her heart as big as the Lincoln Tunnel. I could never understand it. Sometimes I think Bruno came back from the grave and killed him because that’s just who Bruno was.”

Pine thanked the woman and walked back to her car. She called Blum and asked her to take an Uber and meet Pine at the nursing home.

“Her old neighbor said five years ago Evie could no longer take care of herself. She might have deteriorated a lot since then.”

“Well, we can only try,” replied Blum.

Story of my life, thought Pine as she walked to her car.

Chapter 6

As Pine met Blum outside of the nursing home, she said, “There’s one thing that has bugged the crap out of me.”

“What is that?” asked Blum.

“How could Ito have possibly found out that my mother was a mole for the government? She never testified in court. Her identity was kept secret.”

“And we learned that before you and your sister moved to Andersonville, attempts were made on your lives while you were in WITSEC,” said Blum, referring to the Witness Protection Program run by the U.S. Marshals Service. “So how did those people find out?”

“Do you think whoever was behind that might have leaked the information to Ito or his brother, Bruno? He was still alive at that time, albeit in prison.”

“It certainly could be that the two things are connected.”

The nursing home looked like it had been built in the sixties with lots of poured cement and now-dated architecture. The roof-line was flat, and they could see rusty rooftop AC units perched up there in a linear formation.

They walked into the facility. The place had a musty odor, and the furnishings and wall coverings were old and frayed. Pine saw some elderly people moving slowly down the halls in either wheelchairs or walkers. Though old, the place looked relatively clean and uncluttered, but it certainly didn’t seem “cheery.”

Pine showed her creds and badge to the receptionist and they were directed to a supervisor’s office.

“What is this about?” asked the woman, who was in her thirties and dressed in a white smock. The remains of her lunch were sitting on her desk, in an office that was small and messy.

“We just want to ask Mrs. Vincenzo some questions in connection with an inquiry,” Pine began.

“Don’t you need a search warrant or something?” said the woman, who had not identified herself, but whose name tag read sally.

“Not for just talking to someone voluntarily, Sally,” replied Pine. “We’re not searching anything. Just asking questions. It’s about Mrs. Vincenzo’s husband.”

“I didn’t even know she had a husband. No one ever comes to visit except an old neighbor of hers.”

“She was the one who told me Mrs. Vincenzo was here, that she couldn’t care for herself any longer.”

Sally shook her head. “The poor folks forget to take medication, fall down, break a hip, try to drive, leave the cooktop on all night. It’s the old story.”

“So can we talk to her?”

“I’m not sure how much good it will do. She’s in our memory care unit.”

“ ‘Memory care unit’?”

“She’s been diagnosed with dementia.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but so long as we’re here? Can we at least give it a try? It’s important.”

“Well, I guess it can’t hurt. It might be good for her to have some visitors, poor thing.”

She led them down the hall to a set of double doors where a stenciled sign read MEMORY CARE UNIT.

Sally slid a card through a reader and the door clicked open. She led them to one room along the hall and knocked on the door. In a singsong voice she said, “Mrs. Vincenzo? Evie? You have visitors.”

She opened the door and they entered the room.

Evie Vincenzo was sitting up in bed and gazing placidly at them. She had on pink pajamas and there was a pink scarf over her curly hair. Many of the items in the room were also pink.

“She likes pink,” noted Sally. “It soothes her.”

“I’m fond of pink myself,” said Blum.

“I’ll check back in a bit,” said Sally. “Any issues, just hit that red button over the bed.”

She left, and Pine and Blum drew closer to the woman. Pine sat in a chair while Blum stood next to her.

Vincenzo gazed up at Pine. “Do I know you, young lady?” she asked in a pleasant voice.

“No, but I know your neighbor. She likes to knit. She called you Evie.”

Evie said nothing and her eyes started to close.

“She lived in the house to the left of yours?” Pine said helpfully.

The woman opened her eyes, but again didn’t respond.

Blum said, “Do you enjoy visitors? I think I would. It’s nice to talk to people.”

“I... I don’t know you, do I?”

Pine glanced at Blum. “No, but we wanted to visit you today.”

“My... I... not many visitors.”

“Your neighbor told us you were here.”

Evie shook her head, clearly frustrated. “Old woman.”

Pine drew closer. “Yes, I, uh, I was talking to her about your husband?”

“My... husband?”

“Yes, Ito? Do you remember him? She said he was a wonderful cook.”

Evie looked down at her lap. “I... used to... cook.” She glanced at a wall. “They took my... stove.”

Blum reached over and put a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder. “I like to cook, too. I’m so sorry that you can’t.”