Granddad's House (On Geneva Shores) (23 page)

Sam escorted Melanie out the door, followed by
Mickie, Bruce and Helen.

The senior officer then turned to Olivia. “Why don’t you stay right where you are? I’ll take your statement while my partner here takes out …” He angled his head toward the door.

“Dave. Dave Reynolds,” she answered, surprised that her voice seemed so normal, when she felt anything but. Her lungs were crying for more oxygen.

The remaining police officer, who looked younger than the others, glanced in the senior officer’s direction.

“Benny. You can take Mr. Reynolds’ statement once he’s in the squad car while Stu talks to the realtors.”

Benny hauled Dave out of the chair and escorted him from the room.

The remaining police officer pulled a notebook from his pocket. “I’m Sergeant McKenna. Now that it’s a little quieter in here, tell me what happened. Let’s begin with your name.”

Olivia cocked her head at the officer. He seemed to be talking to her, but a funny humming sound had drowned out his words and the light in the room seemed to brighten and then fade. She opened her mouth to ask him to please start over when the room began whirling and blackness took over.

When Olivia opened her eyes, Genevieve was holding a handkerchief with melting ice chips over her nose, and a man in a blue uniform was talking into a lump on his shoulder as he stood nearby. Her forehead throbbed and her nose hurt like the dickens.
Did someone punch me?

“She’s coming around now,” the man was saying. “I’ll have her secretary bring her to the ER.”

Still confused, Olivia blinked. Why was she lying on the floor?

“Stay where you are, Olivia. You fainted dead away and banged your nose on your desk. I have a feeling your face is going to be all swollen by tonight.” Genevieve patted her shoulder. “And the officer here still wants to talk to you.”

Olivia remained where she was and reached up to tentatively touch her face. The lump on her forehead was tender and the skin around her nose felt hot and swollen.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” the officer asked as he bent down to look at her.

“If you’ll let me sit up, I’ll try to answer your questions.” She took the handkerchief from Genevieve, who backed away toward the door, pointing to her desk.

“I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

Olivia wiped her face, tried to ignore the throbbing in and around her nose, and grimaced when blood continued to drip from one nostril. “I’m sorry. I’ve never fainted before.” Her voice sounded nasal.

He smiled briefly. “Well, I guess what happened was a bit more excitement than you usually get around here. If you’ll give me your version of events, I’ll get out of here so you can go to the ER—and have your nose looked at. It could be broken.”

She stifled a tiny groan as she imagined how dreadful she would look with a broken nose. Was she going to need surgery to repair the damage? Over the next several minutes, she answered the officer’s questions.

“Have you talked to the other people who were here? I’m worried about Melanie. She has to get that transaction to closing. And if Mr. Reynolds—”

“He won’t be interfering anytime soon. He’s been taken to the station. We’ve been looking for him for a while. He threatened you with a deadly weapon, on top of the other charges from before. I’ll have to bring people over here to get the bullet out of the wall.”

“Officer Hudson took Ms. Holmes to her house. She was pretty shaken up about all this.”

“I’ll call her. Thank you for coming so quickly.” She started to get up, felt dizzy and sat back down. “Could you please ask Genevieve to come in here?”

The man left and Bruce walked in, followed by Genevieve.

“You look like you’ve been through the wars, girl,” Bruce quipped.

“Talk like that isn’t going to make her feel any better,” Genevieve said as she slapped his arm. “Can you stand, Olivia? Let’s get you over to the ER, so we can see about your nose. Is it still bleeding?”

“Looks like you wrecked that blouse, too,” Bruce added, as he helped her up, “although I guess you could pretend the red streaks are a modern pattern on the pink.” He chuckled. “Lean on me if you still feel woozy. Nothing like this ever happened when your dad was in charge.”

She felt like hitting him until she saw that Bruce was grinning. “You just like to play hero, don’t you?” she said.

Two hours later, she was home, having learned that her nose wasn’t broken, but she should expect to have two black eyes. The doctor had assured her the swelling would go down quickly, as long as she kept icing her face.

She remembered what Beau had said about Granddad and picked up the phone to call her grandfather after cancelling her appointment with the accountant. No way was she up to concentrating on numbers after everything that had happened that day.

“Granddad. Will you please call me back?” She left the message and returned to the couch. She had just finished a light dinner when the phone rang.

“What do you need, Livvy? Who wrote
Grapes of Wrath
?”

She hoped her voice sounded normal. “John Steinbeck. I want to know why you’re going over to your old house. It isn’t yours anymore.”

“Who told you that? I haven’t been over there since—since before we moved the furniture.”

She grimaced.
He doesn’t remember? Or he doesn’t want to admit it? “Granddad, Beau came to my office today. He’s worried about you—doesn’t want you to get hurt now that men are in there working.”

“Oh. That. Well, he shouldn’t have told you. I just went in to check on some things, is
all.” But his hesitation and the way he’d replied made her suspicious. His voice sounded off to her.

“How many times have you gone over there?”

“Don’t remember. He needs to butt out of my business. I thought you said a family was going to buy the house. But they weren’t home. I wanted to welcome them, tell them where you used to put your tea party set. You know, under the stairs.”

“Granddad. A family didn’t buy it. Beau’s company bought it for a client. To make it into a B&B and to change the carriage house and the garden shed.” What wa
s the matter with him?

“Oh. That’s right. I got confused there for a minute. Just a senior moment. I have to go,
Livvy. Someone, one of my new neighbors, is here. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay, Granddad. I’ll come see you this weekend. Or maybe early next week.”
No sense seeing him when her face was such a mess.

“You do that, honey.” He hung up before she could tell him she loved him.

Two days later Beau surveyed the demolition of the kitchen in the house on Highland with the contractor. “How’re things going? You’re on top of those last-minute changes we made?”

“Moving along okay. But that old man was back, talking to himself, then talking to us, telling us what we should be doing. I had to ask him to leave twice, so he wouldn’t get hurt.”

“I’ll be in the carriage house going over those plans again. If he comes back, call me. I’ll talk to him.”
Olivia hadn’t called him back. Beau was going to go over to her place tonight, whether she called him or not.

Minutes later, his phone vibrated on the counter and he reached for it.

“He’s back,” the contractor said.

“I’ll be right there.”

Beau wedged the plans between two planks on the table in the carriage house main room and ran downstairs. By the time he emerged from the building, Robert was on the old patio, looking up into the maple tree as if searching for something.

“Mr. Brown. Robert. Hello there.”

The old man looked in his direction. “Oh. I wasn’t sure who called me. How are you? What are you doing here?” He extended a hand to Beau.

“I’m working in the carriage house. Mind if I sit down and take a load off? Here on the step?”

“Go right ahead. I would have figured you young pups could work all day without a break.”

Beau grinned. “What about you?”

“I guess I’ll join you.” Robert’s hands trembled as he sat down on the step. “Been looking for something. There it is.” He pointed to the big tree. “I need to fix that swing, so the family moving in here, so their children can use it.”

Beau peered more closely at Olivia’s grandfather. “What is it you want to fix?”

“Livvy’s swing. I must have taken it down. Or maybe she pulled it up into the tree. She did that once when she was twelve. Scared me to death when I saw how high up she was. Guess I’ll have to go up after it.” He rose and walked unsteadily toward the tree.

Beau followed him, surprised at how unbalanced Robert seemed to be. “The swing isn’t there anymore. The rope was rotten on one side. I had the contractor remove it.”

Robert swung around, a frown on his face. “Well, that won’t do. Those folks are moving in any day now. They’ll want that swing for their kids to use. You have to put it back.”

Beau steadied the man as he halted next to the big tree. “Who did you say was moving in, Mr. Brown?”

“That nice family, the one Livvy sold the house to. You know. You’ve seen them, I’m sure.” A look of puzzlement showed in his eyes, and he wiped his brow with one hand before leaning against the tree. “I feel kind of tired. Mind if I sit down for a minute?”

Robert slumped to the ground, his face pale, his breathing rapid.

“Let me get you over to the deck.” Beau helped the old man back to the steps.  “This ground’s wet, from the rain we had last night. Let me get you some water. Stay right there.”

Beau went into the big house and came out with cold water in a paper cup. He handed it to Robert and went back into the house. He dialed Olivia’s cell, and she answered immediately.

“Olivia, it’s Beau. Could you come over to your grandfather’s old house?”

“Is something wrong?”

“Your grandfather is here now and he’s not acting quite right. I’m not sure what the problem is, but maybe he needs a doctor. I just gave him some water, after he complained of being tired. He’s acting confused.”

Her voice sounded strained when she answered. “I’ll be right there.”

Beau returned to the porch and sat down next to the man. He tried to act casual as he placed a hand lightly on the man’s wrist. Robert’s breathing seemed labored.

Minutes later, Olivia trotted around the side of the house and approached them. Her nose was swollen, her face discolored. Black circles rimmed both eyes and beneath them, green and yellow areas stained her cheeks.

Beau sucked in his breath. “What in the world happened to you?”

“Tell you later.” She looked at her grandfather. “Granddad.” She kneeled down next to him. “When was the last time you took your insulin?”

He looked at her for a long minute as if trying to recall who she was, then said, “Hmm. I think I took it this morning, like I always do.”

“I’m going to take you home. It’s not good for you to be over here in the middle of all the construction.”

“I came over to fix your swing for the kids—before they move into the house. The family. You know. Who bought the place.”

She looked up at Beau and then back at her grandfather. “Beau bought your property, Granddad. The family is buying another house. Come on. Let me help you up. Did you walk over here?”

He nodded and rose slowly. Olivia held his hand and walked him in the direction of her car while Beau’s steps matched the old man’s halting progress.

Right after her grandfather climbed into the passenger seat, she looked back at Beau, her voice soft. “Thanks for calling me. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Your face, what happened to—”

“Later,” she said, and drove off.

Olivia took her grandfather home. Throughout the ride he alternated questions from his favorite show,
Questions and Answers
,
with half-formed sentences that trailed off, as if forgetting what he’d been talking about. Where was her bright and congenial grandfather? This man seemed a shell of that person.

After she opened the door of his condo, she sat him down in his favorite chair and went into the bathroom. It was clear he hadn’t been taking his insulin, but for how many days, she couldn’t be sure. She called the doctor and spoke with him, then cajoled her grandfather back into the car and drove to the doctor’s office.

“I don’t need to see him, Livvy,” her grandfather complained. “He’ll just tell me I shouldn’t have had that cookie I sneaked the other day, when they were handing out samples at the grocery store.”

“I’m sure he won’t care about that, unless you had more than one. Didn’t he say you could have one the last time you talked about that?”

He nodded. “Well, maybe it was more than one. I can’t remember …” He looked unsure of where he was.

After a stern lecture from the doctor, the administration of insulin, and a careful review of what her grandfather should be eating, Olivia drove him home, worried now that he shouldn’t be living alone. But when she broached the subject of a retirement community, he looked over at her, his brows knitted together, the edges of his mouth turned down.