Jeanie London – Frankie's Back in Town (страница 9)

There was a compliment in there. She could hear it in his deep voice, knew it would be all over his smile if she looked at him. So she didn’t look. “I oversee the scheduling.”

“And have a photographic memory, it sounds like.”

She was saved from a reply when they reached the elevator and the doors slid wide to showcase Mrs. Talbot.

The woman wore a badge with the lodge logo and her name imprinted to provide easy identification for staff and residents. And visiting police chiefs.

“Good day, Mrs. Talbot,” Jack said.

She nodded politely before asking Francesca, “You’re coming for lunch today, aren’t you? It’s Tasty Thursday.”

Francesca glanced at her watch. “Fingers crossed. I can’t promise.”

“They’re featuring my squash casserole, so do your best.” Mrs. Talbot moved along with another polite nod to Minnie Moorehead, who shuffled up aided by an electric-blue walker.

Jack reached above Francesca’s head and held the elevator door.

“More like Tasteless Thursday,” Minnie said as she stepped inside.

Francesca followed, unable to hold back a laugh. “I don’t know about tasteless. Her four-bean salad was so good Chef Kevin added it to the menu.”

Minnie made a moue of distaste. “Gave me gas.”

Francesca wasn’t sure how to respond to that but enjoyed Jack’s surprised response. Nice to know the man could be taken off guard.

To his credit, though, he didn’t miss a beat. Stepping into the elevator, he asked, “What floor, Ms. Moorehead?”

“Fourth.” She eyed him curiously. “This your man, Francesca?”

“Minnie.” Francesca warned and hurried on before Jack could introduce himself. The last thing Minnie needed was anything more interesting than Mrs. Talbot’s squash casserole to discuss over lunch. And another visit from the police chief definitely qualified. “How did you ever find a shade of lipstick to match that beautiful sweater?”

Flattered, Minnie launched into a discourse about her particular shade of Cherries in the Snow until the elevator ground to a stop on the fourth floor.

Disaster averted. Whew!

Jack held the door until Minnie was into the hallway before letting the doors slide closed again. He depressed the button for the basement.

“We’re riding the local today,” Francesca said to fill the quiet.

“An interesting ride.”

“Usually is,” she agreed.

“I’ve got a question for you, Francesca.”

“Shoot.”

“You mentioned that you’d spoken to the Hickmans’ daughter about the list. Do you always liaise for the residents?”

She shrugged. “Not always. Company policy is to notify family members whenever anything out of the ordinary comes up. Unfortunately, we can’t be everywhere at once.”

His visit to the Hickmans was a prime example. She’d barely made it upstairs in time to intervene. “If we can’t notify a family member, we try to make someone from the lodge available. We have a patient care consultant on staff for that purpose, but any one of the management staff will do.”

“It isn’t always possible?”

“Afraid not. Try though we might. This is a senior-living community. We don’t oversee every aspect of our residents’ lives. Our involvement is like our security vault—a courtesy.”

“But your company still has policy in place?”

Hmm. How could she phrase this delicately to a man who clearly wasn’t grasping the whole concept of senior living? “We deal in aging services here, Jack. Double-checking details usually works to everyone’s benefit.”

“Got it.” And something about that quirk at the corners of his mouth told her he did.

They found Emelina in the laundry, but after Jack introduced himself, she eyed the nattily dressed chief of police in horror and launched into a stream of Spanish that had Francesca scrambling to keep up.

“There’s nothing wrong, Emelina,” Francesca said. “Chief Sloan just wants to ask you a few questions.”

Jack stepped in, turned on the charm and soon had Emelina eagerly looking over his list. Anything to help out the police chief. Francesca tried not to be impressed—by the effect of his manner or his fluent Spanish. She tried to find something off-putting in the way he used his charm.

Nada.

But she did find herself distracted when he showed Emelina an entirely different list, one that itemized costly sound systems, hi-definition televisions and computer equipment.

Could all these purchases really have been made on one credit card?

Francesca was getting a really bad feeling and pretended to watch linens being fluffed, folded and tossed into carts while listening to Emelina’s replies.

No, she hadn’t seen a notebook computer in bright pink in any of the apartments she cleaned.

Maybe, she would notice a new flat screen TV since it was her job to dust it. Maybe not. TVs all looked the same since she never had time to watch them.

Yes, there was an apartment she cleaned that had an expensive-looking electronic keyboard.

Francesca knew for a fact that Mrs. Hickman had brought a keyboard as a compact replacement for the baby grand piano she’d played most of her adult life. But that keyboard had moved in with them. Long before the captain had misplaced his wallet.

This time.

Jack thanked Emelina and looked to Francesca for an escort to the next place on his list.

“The residents’ parking garage,” he said. “Would you like to grab a coat?”

“Only if you’re planning to keep me outside a while.”

“Just a walk-around.”

“Then I’ll be fine.”

Better to get this tour over with as quickly as possible rather than delay with a trip back to her office. Besides, some cold air might help clear her head. Of course, the instant Francesca got a blast of a Mid-Hudson Valley winter, she was thinking twice about her clever idea to force Jack to hurry.

She watched him scan the rows of cars on both sides of the garage and had to ask, “Did these suspicious purchases on the captain’s credit begin the first time he misplaced his wallet?”

“I’m sorry. Can’t answer that yet.”

Okay. She understood he couldn’t discuss the details of his investigation, but she didn’t like being in the dark. She tried a side-door approach. “If you tell me what you’re looking for, I can help you look.”

“A 2009 Ducati Desmosedici RR.”

Francesca stopped short. “Ducati? As in motorcycle?”

“A limited edition. Red. We’ll check with gatehouse security, but I wanted to walk through in case it was brought onto the property and not registered.”

“Jack?”

He glanced around, obviously just realizing she hadn’t kept up with him. “Francesca?”

“You’re looking for a Ducati, here? But these cars belong to residents who can still drive. There aren’t many. Trust me. Even if the captain bought a Ducati, why would he park it here?”

A frown furrowed his brow. “I have no way of knowing.”

The wind picked up, whipping her hair into her face, blowing through her hose and freezing away any reaction she once might have had to this man’s charm. Now he was just obtuse. “You met the Hickmans, Jack. These lists of yours make it sound as if you think they went on some Bonnie-and-Clyde style shopping rampage. I understand you can’t discuss the details of your investigation, I honestly do, but can’t you be a little clearer on exactly what you’re looking for?”

That black, black gaze bored into hers for a long time before he said, “Evidence linking the suspect charges to the person who made the purchases. I need to confirm whether or not Captain Hickman made these purchases before I can know if I need to keep looking at whoever has access to his credit cards.”

“Like my staff.”

“Like your staff,” he agreed.

“So we’re not talking about a little crime your department will solve quickly? We’re talking about a big messy crime that keeps my residents worrying and every red flag I have flying.”