The assisted living facility felt like an upscale retirement complex. Except the residents were younger and I knew each had a disability. There was no answer when I knocked on Felix’s door but a neighbor riding a scooter led me to a game room and pointed him out to me.
Felix was fortyish; a small, thin man with mousy brown hair, and wire-rimmed glasses. At the moment he was playing a game of chess. And he was going in for the kill. He’d captured nearly every one of his opponent’s chess pieces and the guy wasn’t happy. He wore a Luke Skywalker tee and the Force wasn’t with him.
Skywalker’s eyes widened as Felix’s queen descended on his doomed King.
“Don’t do it, Felix. Don’t do it,” he snarled.
Felix gave a wicked grin and his queen pounced on the King. They tussled and the King crashed on his back.
“Checkmate!” Felix shouted.
Skywalker leapt to his feet and his arm swept the board. The board flew to the floor and all the King’s men took flight.
The other residents barely blinked.
“Larry, Larry,” an employee said. “Can you go to a happy place now?”
“He goaded me!”
“It’s true,” Felix said. “I’m sorry, Larry.”
Larry looked sheepish. “It was a good game.”
“It was a slaughter,” a young woman giggled. “Nobody beats Felix in chess.”
“You got that right,” Larry admitted.
He rescued the scattered pieces and a few friends helped. They’d done this before. With the chess set reordered, Larry moved across the room and ran explosively on the treadmill. His feet pelted the walking belt. I guessed there was a glitch in Larry’s gray matter. Like bi-polar on steroids.
“Who wants to play me now?” Felix said and I shot to the table before he could tie up a new game. I thrust out my hand.
“Hi, Felix, I’m Cat DeLuca. I want to talk to you about your friend, Daniel Baumgarten.”
“Mr. B is dead.”
“I understand you and he were close.”
His face darkened and his hand stroked something on his lap. I stretched my neck to see the stuffed animal on his legs.
“Nice bear,” I said.
“Mr. B bought it for me at a game.”
The bear wore a blue baseball cap with a big red C. “Did we win?”
He thought a moment. “Sammy Sosa got a walk-off grand slam in the ninth. We creamed the Cardinals, nine to five. We had hot dogs and ice cream. I had chocolate fudge, and Mr. B had pistachio.”
He smiled, delighted with himself.
Felix was mentally challenged. But like many challenged individuals, he was utterly brilliant in specific areas. He played chess very well. And Tino remembered he’s a master pianist.
“Can we go somewhere to talk? I’d like to ask you a few questions about the day Mr. B died.”
Felix pushed back his chair and stood with some difficulty. He hunched over as he walked, gripping a wooden cane with a detailed carving of a lion’s head as the handle. We took the long hall slowly, the crooked spine protesting every step he took. The silence felt awkward and I tried to fill some of it with small talk.
“Danny must have liked you very much.”
Felix smiled shyly. “Mr. B took me to the bakery across the street. Every Wednesday.”
“Tomorrow is Wednesday.”
Felix kept walking.
“I stopped by Baumgarten’s Jewelry today,” I said. “Rob was there. He told me to say hi.”
“Mr. B is dead.”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
“I kept Mr. B’s plunder safe.”
“Mr. B had plunder? Like a pirate?”
Felix laughed. “Mr. B brought diamonds from South Africa. Like a pirate. And he brought me this walking stick.”
“It’s very cool.”
He tapped his ebony stick on the floor. “Mr. B said the lion was like me. I’m a Leo.”
“You must be very brave.”
Felix nodded solemnly. “I would have saved Mr. B.”
“I’m sure you would have.”
“I didn’t see the bad men coming.”
“What?”
Felix’s shuffling feet stopped and he pushed a heavy oak door with an exit sign. I stepped outside.
“Are we going to the terrace?” I said.
“You’re going home now.”
“Wait! I need to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to talk. There was too much blood.”
“Tell me about the bad men.”
“They give me bad dreams.” He slammed the door. I tried the knob but it wouldn’t open without a key card.
I shot to a window and watched the crooked man hobble down the hall.
“What bad men?” I demanded to no one at all.
***
I made a 7-11 stop for juice and snacks. I was ready to hunker down for a long stretch.
The housekeeper said Mr. Smith had been called into work tonight. Maybe he’d blow off his job. But if he made his shift and left Sammy in the motel or car, switching dogs would be a cakewalk.
I settled in on the lumpy mattress and brought Sammy up on the computer screen. He was tied to the bedrail again, eyes big and brown and sad. I tuned in the audio. Dr. Phil was talking to parents who lost kids to gun violence. It was a gut-wrenching segment. Ponytail blew his nose hard but maybe he was coming down with a cold.
The hours dragged on. I ate all the chips and a bag of M&M’s. I gave myself a mani-pedi with Road House Blues nail polish. I fed a handful of quarters to the greedy Magic Fingers and was lulled by its soft buzz and rhythmic shudder. I must have dozed because a knock on the room next door shot me straight up in bed. The computer screen went black. I fell over myself getting to the window.
I opened the door a crack and caught a flash of honey blond and green scarf disappear into room seven.
I turned up the audio. Ponytail muted the TV. “Thanks for taking Sam, Saleen. I’ll drop by and pick him up on my way home from work.”
“He looks sad.”
“He’s okay. How’s your mom?”
“Not good. I see her slipping away. We don’t have much time.”
“He’ll pay, Saleen. I promise. We’ll have thirty g’s in a few days and she’ll begin treatments Monday.”
“I hope so.”
“She’s strong. She’ll beat this. And someday she’ll dance at your wedding.”
I seized my purse and dumped the contents on the bed. I grabbed the keys to the Silver Bullet and raced outside in my bunny slippers. In a moment my head was in the trunk and my hands fumbled in my box of hotshot tricks for my GPS transmitter. It was in a plastic case with two heavy duty magnets and two AA batteries. It would send a signal to my phone and allow me to track her vehicle wherever she went.
I closed the trunk and scanned the parking lot. Two cars had arrived at the motel after me. But the engine under the red MINI Cooper’s hood was still hot.
I dropped my keys on the ground and knelt beside the Cooper’s rear tire. I reached my hand behind the back left wheel, stretching my fingers as far as I could, and secured the magnets. Then I picked up the keys and bounced to my feet.
I scootched to my room and slid inside. The woman Ponytail called Saleen stepped outside with Sam I Am in tow. He lifted his leg on the Silver Bullet’s tire as he passed.
“Little stinker,” I said.
Saleen took Sammy to the MINI Cooper and lifted him in her arms. She opened her door and placed him on the seat beside her. Then she held his face between her palms and kissed his head.
“Oh, crap,” I thought. “I like her.”
I tugged a hoodie over my head and waited for the MINI Cooper to pull onto the street. Racing outside I fired up Jack’s loaner. I was hot on her tail. Saleen blazed her way to West Pershing Street and followed it all the way to the Brighton Park neighborhood. She grabbed Sam I Am and they disappeared in a yellow house with blue trim.
I stepped outside the car and did a few stretches. It was a quiet street and if there was a nosy neighbor like mine, I didn’t see her gawking from a window. I ran around the block and down the alley. The yellow house had a big, fenced backyard with an herb garden. Ivy climbed up the back wall and a spray of yellow and purple irises bordered the house. A kitchen window looked out on the alley but a large dogwood afforded some cover.
The street lights blinked on. It would be dark soon. I jogged back to the car and called Roger. It was time to bring Thor.
***
The gate was fixed with a padlock. I climbed over the fence and hid in a dark corner of the yard behind the dogwood tree. I asked Roger to park close by on the cross street and wait for my call. He said he had a bucket of chicken and if I wanted some, I should call soon.
When the back porch light popped on, the woman Ponytail called Saleen stepped onto the porch. “Do your business, love,” she said. “And then you’ll cuddle with Mom and keep her company.”
Saleen closed the door and I beeped Roger.
“Sam I Am, come here, boy,” I whispered.
There was a whimper and in a moment he was in my arms.
The pink coat was fastened with Velcro. One rip, a pull over the head, and Voila! Nature boy.
Roger was waiting at the fence with the sacrificial lamb. I passed Sam over and grabbed Thor. Thor didn’t get the sweater thing. He was far less cooperative. We wrestled and came to an understanding. When the sweater was snug I told him he was beautiful and hugged him tight. I would be back, I promised. And then I gave him a dog biscuit from my pocket.
In the wonderful world of dogs, I was forgiven.
I put Thor on the ground and he barked wildly. I jumped the fence, hopped in the car, and Roger hit the gas hard.
“Roger,” I said. “This is Sam I Am. Sam, this is Roger.”
Roger smiled. “Sam I Am, I am enormously pleased to meet you.”
Sammy thought Roger’s breath smelled delicious. He wagged his tail and poked his nose at the bucket of gnawed chicken bones.