Last night, however, had been more disturbed than in longer than he could remember. First, Sunny and the Old One had each gone to stand under water and then had left the house after eating when it wasn’t even eating time. That definitely wasn’t usual. Then Sunny had come back after dark with her He, and they’d tried to hide in the backyard. Very, very strange, even for two-legs. Shadow still hadn’t been able to figure out what they’d been doing out there. And, of course, it hadn’t gotten any better when he’d fallen on them. Then Sunny had gone off again, the Old One had come home late, Sunny had come back, and Sunny’s He had turned up again. All these comings and goings were enough to make a cat nervous.
Even this morning, Sunny had gotten up very early and left the house, moving in that funny way the two-legs did when they thought they were being quiet. Shadow hadn’t been fooled, of course. He’d been awake when she got out of bed and trailed after her through her whole morning routine. Even when Sunny left some food out for him, and Shadow’s stomach had rumbled at the sound of the dry food landing in his dish, he’d stayed where he was, watching the room and Sunny from afar instead of running in for a bite.
Shadow had considered trying to follow Sunny, discover where she went when she’d come home smelling of that She he found so interesting. But he’d given up the idea. Even if he managed to get outside, it was hard to sneak into her go-fast thing.
She’d even fooled him, going off with her He. So that hadn’t worked at all.
The Old One, though . . . he paid very little attention to Shadow. And he moved a lot more slowly than Sunny. Shadow was pretty sure he could get around the Old One’s legs and out the door before being noticed.
And the Old One drove a machine that was open in the back. An enterprising cat could jump up there and ride along.
So now Shadow watched Sunny’s father carefully as he sat in the kitchen. The Old One wore the loose, floppy clothes he put on before going out and coming back smelling worse than usual. Sometimes he really stank when he came home, but he never came home from wherever place he went to smelling of the She.
Shadow could be patient, though. When the Old One came back, stood under the water, and put other clothes on, Shadow would be ready . . .
17
“I have to say, Sunny, I’m impressed,” Ollie said, shifting himself to sit higher in his bed. “To tell the truth, I was beginning to wonder if what I thought I overheard the night Gardner died was a dream after all. Figured I’d have to eat crow with these doctors. But you really came through. How did you get Luke to confess to you?”
By being nice to him, the hard-nosed reporter in the back of Sunny’s head commented. It’s a technique you don’t seem to have much of a handle on.
“I wouldn’t say he confessed to me,” Sunny said aloud. “He didn’t even realize that he’d done anything wrong. He just wanted someone to talk to after attending the memorial for his father. The gossip was flying, and he heard a lot of not-so-pleasant things about Gardner.”
“Oh, man,” Ollie said. “Like what?”
“A lot about his womanizing.” Will tried to hit the highlights without shoveling too much dirt. “His word wasn’t all that good, and whenever there was trouble, he tended to disappear.”
“Hmph.” Ollie frowned. “The guy I knew in the next bed seemed nice enough. Always ready to joke, looking on the bright side, cheerful . . .” He paused for a second. “He gave some people a hard time, but they were usually pains in the butt, like that nephew of his.”
“He wasn’t very decent to Elsa Hogue,” Sunny pointed out.
“Yeah,” Ollie admitted. “I never did understand that. She’s a nice lady. I figured Gardner must have been hurting when he started therapy with her, and he never got over it.”
“So you liked the guy to begin with, and then hear everybody saying nasty things about him,” Will said. “I can see it has you feeling a little funny even now. Imagine what it must have been like to know the guy was your father and to discover that the people who knew him best had such a low opinion of him.”
Sunny shook her head. “I can see why he’d want to talk it over with somebody.”
“And he chose you,” Ollie said.
She tried to shrug it off with a laugh. “I guess showing up for his gig at O’Dowd’s paid off. I have to admit, he just about floored me when he started talking about being Gardner’s son. I never saw that coming.”
“Obviously, he got his mother’s hair and eyes,” Will said. “We can’t tell about his chin, not with all those whiskers. But when you look at it, there’s a similarity around the nose.”
“How can you tell?” Sunny objected. “Gardner had his broken.”
“But Alfred didn’t,” Ollie pointed out. “And his nose pretty much matches Luke’s.” He shook his head. “I just didn’t think to compare them before.”
“Who would?” Will asked. “Luke was just a stranger from the other end of the country. Who’d expect him to be the lost heir to the Scatterwell fortune?”
“That’s not the reason he came all this way,” Sunny said. “After growing up in the commune, he said all he wanted was to get to know his real dad.”
“Of course, Gardner would still be alive and Luke would probably be a lot happier if he hadn’t found him.” Ollie frowned. “Ain’t that a kick in the head.”
“Mr. Barnstable?” a voice came from the doorway. It was one of the Bridgewater Hall volunteers. “Ms. Elsa says it’s time for your therapy.”
“Then I guess it is,” Ollie said mildly, inching his way to the edge of the bed. “Can you get my wheelchair ready?”
He made the transfer smoothly, then looked up at Sunny and Will. “Want to come and see what we do?”
This is a big change from the way Ollie acted at the beginning, Sunny thought.
“Come on,” Ollie said with a big show of generosity. “I’ll give you the rest of the day off.” He paused for a second. “That girl Annie is taking care of everything, isn’t she?”
“It’s Nancy,” Sunny told him. “And she hasn’t called in with any disasters lately.” She stopped when she saw the look on Ollie’s face. “Oh, take it easy, boss. I do check in with her, and she’s doing fine.” So far, Sunny added silently, her fingers crossed.
With Ollie safely in his chair, the volunteer began wheeling him toward the therapy room. Sunny and Will followed.
They arrived to find Elsa waiting in the doorway. In the week since Gardner Scatterwell had left this world, Elsa had continued the transformation Sunny had noted earlier. She’d had her hair done, was wearing makeup and some tasteful jewelry, and today wore a soft sweater over slacks that showed off her figure modestly but quite nicely. Rubbing her arms in the air-conditioning, Sunny wished she had a sweater, too.
“How are you doing today, Ollie?” Elsa asked.
On a first-name basis now, are we? Sunny thought—but said nothing.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Ollie said. “What’s the torture de jour?”
“We’ll try you with some table games.” Elsa had the volunteer bring him to a table that would normally accommodate six. Two people in wheelchairs and one standing with a walker surrounded it, working on various tasks. “You can take a whack at this.”
As soon as Ollie was situated and the volunteer had locked the wheels on his chair, Elsa got a metal box, perhaps a foot square, with dowel handles sticking out of the sides and placed it in front of Sunny’s boss.
“You’ve done this before,” Elsa said. “Remember?”
Ollie nodded. “Push it all the way forward, bring it all the way back.”