Eight

As Zoe sat in the parking lot behind Walden’s, she remembered she’d silenced her phone. Three missed calls. The first—the one she’d ignored when having lunch with Jason—was from Connie Smith, the director at Golden Oaks. The other two were from Pete.

She listened to Connie’s message. After identifying herself, the director said, “I’m returning your call about setting up a meeting. I’ll be in my office until five this afternoon. Feel free to call me back or stop in.”

Zoe decided she’d prefer to meet Connie face-to-face. She phoned Wayne.

“Thanks,” he said after she told him about the message. “I’m heading there now. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

She bristled. “I want to be there too.”

“There’s no reason for you to make the trip to town.”

Zoe ticked off the list to him, starting with Harry and including the facts that she’d been the one who contacted Connie in the first place, and her position as acting coroner.

“I’m the cop,” Wayne said with that placating tone she knew infuriated Pete. “You’ve done your part. The coroner’s duties don’t extend to this portion of the investigation.”

The hell they didn’t. She cranked the ignition and the old pickup roared to life. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” More like thirty or thirty-five, but she didn’t think he’d agree to wait that long.

“You don’t need to make the trip.” He sounded like he was biting off each word. “I’ve got this.”

“I’m on my way. Wait for me.” Before he could argue, she jabbed the red button.

She thought of Pete’s two call-me messages and imagined the conversation they’d have. That discussion would have to wait until later. She texted him, Lunch went fine. Talk to you soon, and shoved the phone in her purse before reversing the big Chevy three-quarter ton out of the parking spot.

Zoe made the trip to Golden Oaks in just over thirty minutes. As she pulled into the facility’s driveway, she spotted a grouping of political signs, most of them touting Dr. Charles Davis for County Coroner.

She really needed to start campaigning for Franklin.

She found Wayne inside the atrium, studying the memorial set up for Kinney. A vase of daffodils, a photo of him that appeared to have been taken only days ago, and a framed copy of his obituary from the paper sat on a round table.

Wayne looked anything but pleased to see her. “I told you—”

She cut him off with a wave. “Is there anything new on the case?”

Wayne made an irritated growl deep in his throat. “Not yet. The lab’s still working on fibers. The few viable fingerprints the crime scene unit lifted belonged to Kinney and two of the staff. Female. Both have been cleared.”

Before Zoe could ask about the security cam footage, a thin, rosy-cheeked woman wearing an ill-fitting business suit and a pair of glasses on a decorative chain around her neck approached. Unlike the other times Zoe had seen Golden Oaks’ director, the woman’s face bore lines of tension across her forehead and around her eyes. She forced a smile and extended her hand. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Connie Smith. You’re Zoe, right?”

“Yes. Thanks for meeting with us.” Zoe introduced Wayne.

“Detective?” Connie cast a puzzled look at Zoe. “I thought you wanted to talk to me about touring the facility.”

Wayne opened his mouth to reply, but Zoe beat him to it. “We’re investigating John Kinney’s homicide.”

“Oh.” The pink drained from Connie’s cheeks. She motioned to a door next to the Bistro. “Let’s go in here.” She ushered them into a bright and cheery conference room and offered water or coffee, which they refused. Once they were seated, Connie looked at Zoe. “I believe I’ve seen you around here before, haven’t I?”

“One of your residents, Harry Adams, is a friend of mine.”

“Oh, yes. You were with the family the day I showed them around the first time.”

The woman had a good memory for faces. Maybe she’d be able to identify their mystery baseball cap guy.

Wayne thumbed his phone before handing it to Connie. “I have a picture I’d like you to look at. See if he looks familiar.”

She put her glasses on and studied the photo. “It’s not a very good angle.”

“We know. It’s the best one we have. The man was aware of your security cameras and intentionally avoided showing his face.”

Connie looked up at Wayne, her eyes wide. “You think this is the man who killed Mr. Kinney?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, dear.” She enlarged the photo on the screen. After several long moments, she shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. Like I said, it’s not a good picture. That could be my own son and I wouldn’t be able to recognize him.”

“Can you think of anyone who might have wanted Mr. Kinney dead?” Zoe asked.

Wayne nodded toward his phone. “Especially if they happen to match the build of the man in the photo.”

Connie handed the phone back. “I hate to think someone here had anything to do with it.”

“I realize that,” Wayne said.

“And I’d hate to cast suspicion on an innocent person.” She removed a logoed pen from a container on the table and rolled it between her fingers.

“We’ll be discreet.” He smiled at Connie. That well-practiced comforting smile Zoe had seen him use a number of times. Including on her.

Connie set the pen down. “I truly want to help, but I can’t think of anyone here who’s capable of such brutality.”

Wayne slung one arm over the back of his chair, striking a laid-back pose. “What can you tell me about Robert Welsh?”

Connie appeared startled by the question. “Everyone loves Robert. He’s polite to the staff. Helpful to the other residents. He and Gladys Oliverio have a not-so-secret romance going on. It’s very sweet.”

“You mentioned Gladys Oliverio,” Wayne said. “What do you know about her grandson?”

“Daryl? He works here.”

“Are you aware of his history of anger management issues?”

“He underwent therapy for it.”

“I’m not sure the therapy worked,” Zoe said softly.

Connie swung to face her and appeared ready to protest.

“I’ve seen his temper.” Zoe leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. “As a matter of fact, I saw it directed at Mr. Kinney the morning he was killed.”

The director’s shoulders sagged. “Oh, dear.”

Zoe looked at Wayne. “There was another aide there at the time.” She turned to Connie. “Shouldn’t he have reported it?”

“Yes. He should have.”

“Do you have a name on this other aide?”

“I’ll have to check the work schedule.” The director’s jaw tensed. “I’ll speak with him and have him contact you.”

“What about Daryl Oliverio?” Wayne asked. “Is he working today?”

“No. He’ll be back on duty tomorrow morning.”

“Can you think of anyone else who may have had a disagreement with Mr. Kinney? Or anyone he knew from before he moved here?”

“No, I’m sorry. His previous address was in Pittsburgh. Other than his sister who visited regularly, I don’t believe he knew anyone else.”

“I know you’re busy, so we won’t keep you any longer.” Wayne rose and held out his business card. “Make sure the aide who witnessed Oliverio’s disagreement with Kinney contacts me. If you think of anything else…”

Connie stood and accepted the card and a handshake. “Likewise, if you have any other questions, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

The director bustled out ahead of them. Alone in the conference room, Zoe caught Wayne’s arm. “What are you going to do next?”

“I’m going to have another chat with Robert Welsh for starters. And if this other employee doesn’t call me, I’m going to track his ass down.”

“Do you think Daryl Oliverio is our Baseball Cap Man?”

“Maybe.” Wayne shrugged. “I know I want to talk to the man. And I want a closer look at those security videos.”

  

Although everything at Golden Oaks appeared to be status quo when Pete walked through the doors, a palpable nervous energy vibrated the air. The residents seemed fine, however the usually friendly staff wore strained smiles on their faces like masks hiding their concern.

He’d texted Nadine from the parking lot, and she’d responded that she was with their father in his room. As Pete headed for the elevator, the door to what he knew was a conference room opened. Baronick and Zoe stepped out.

She spotted him, and a smile lit her face as she approached. “What are you doing here?” But the smile immediately faded. “Is Harry all right?”

He wanted to tell her she would know had she returned his calls instead of simply texting him back. “Nadine’s worried about him. I’ve decided to move him in with us until the person responsible for Kinney’s homicide is arrested.”

Zoe’s mouth formed a silent “oh.”

Pete turned to Baronick. “Any progress?”

“Nothing worth mentioning.” He gestured toward Zoe. “She can tell you about the meeting we just had.” He turned to her and added, “I’m gonna track down Robert Welsh. I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”

“Thanks. And thanks for letting me sit in on the meeting.”

Baronick grunted. “As if you gave me a choice.”

Pete watched the detective go and turned to Zoe. He had enough questions for her to fill a good-sized notebook, but they would have to wait. “I could use your help.”

“With Harry? Are you taking him home tonight?”

“That’s the plan. Nadine’s upstairs with him now.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Pete trailed Zoe up the stairs and fell into step beside her at the top. Trying to sound nonchalant, he asked, “How’d your lunch go?”

Her pace slowed, and he caught a glimpse of a smitten grin. “Good. Really good.”

“You think he’s on the up-and-up?”

She stopped. The look she gave him made him wonder if he’d sprouted a second head. “Yes, he’s on the up-and-up.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I just am.” Her expression softened, and she continued down the hall. “I can’t explain it, but it was like we’d known each other all our lives. Like…I dunno…like he’s always been a part of me.” She glanced at him. “He wants to meet you.”

“Good,” Pete said. Because he sure as hell wanted to meet Jason Cox too.