Chapter Twenty One

I'd been at the interviews for two hours. Presently, I was with seventy-seven year old Miss Maddie Thurman. Maddie wore a flower-print dress. She might have been tall and willowy when she was young, before the years compressed and bent her. We sat at her small dining table. Maddie had been at the Seaside Retirement Home for ten years.

"It's just a feeling I get whenever he's around." She stared at me. Her faded blue eyes questioned me, did I understand? Did I believe her?

"Feelings are very important," I assured her. "Cops and law enforcement officials develop a sort of sixth sense after years of dealing with people. We can tell when someone is being deceptive or when there's something not right about them."

Maddie beamed at me. "That's it. That's exactly how I feel. There's just something a little off about him."

I glanced at my notepad. I'd written the name Father Bob and put a question mark after it.

"Did Father Bob have any connection or relationship with Ellen Sims, Adeline Humphries, or Odella Kingsley?" I asked.

"Hmmm. Now, let me think." Maddie tapped her chin lightly and thought. "Oh! Yes! He frequently had lunch with them. Is that what you mean?"

I nodded. "That's exactly what I mean. How often did he lunch with them?"

"Oh dear, I'm not sure. Maybe three or more times a week. You have to understand, Odella wasn't in the best physical shape when she arrived. At first, she hardly left her room. But then, well, Ellen and Adeline being the kindhearted individuals they were, took Odella under their wing. They started visiting her and invited her to sit at their table for meals. It was really nice to see the three of them having so much fun. Laughing and smiling. They got along so well."

"And Father Bob?" I said guiding the conversation back in the direction I wanted. Father Bob. I'd met him at mom and dad's anniversary party here at the retirement home. A quiet, unassuming man. But something about him had rubbed me the wrong way, too.

"Oh yes, Father Bob." Maddie gave a helpless, childlike smile. "I tend to wander off topic at times. I blame it on my age. Well um … yes, Father Bob. You see, he would stop by their table and chat with them almost every day. That man can talk. But that's neither here nor there. What I meant to say, was that he did talk to them almost every day and maybe three days out of seven, he would sit and have lunch with them. The ladies didn't seem to mind. I think they rather enjoyed it."

"Did he lunch with other people? Women or men?"

Maddie thought for a moment before answering. "Not really. He'd come wandering through the dining hall at lunch and greet people. Ask how they were doing. I saw it as a superficial sort of interest. He was being polite and all, but Ellen, Adeline, and Odella were his real interest. He definitely spent more time with them."

"Can you think of any reason for his special interest in them?" I had my fingers crossed.

"You know, I've often wondered that and the only thing that comes to mind is … well, I believe Ellen and Adeline had money. Now, they didn't boast about it or anything, but in a place like this, word gets around."

"Money," I said. Could the women have been targeted and killed for their money?

Maddie gazed at me with doubtful eyes. "It's the only thing I can think of. Oh, I don't think I've been very helpful. I've just been blathering on." She sounded like a wounded child.

"No, not at all. You've been very helpful." I patted her thin, bony hand and left. A sudden sense of urgency assailed me. I had to find Steven, find out what he'd discovered. And then I had to find out everything I could about Father Bob.

Steven was in foyer staring at a copy of the duty schedule. It was posted in a glass case on the wall.

"Get anything?" I asked without preamble.

He turned to me. A perplexed and concerned frown crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Yes. Something about this schedule." He pointed at the schedule on the wall. "I get a vibe from it."

"See a Father Bob on there?" I gave the schedule a cursory glance.

"No," Steven mumbled and then an idea came to him. "Ohhh … a father. Like a priest. Yes, that fits."

"Fits? Fits what?"

"My impression. I have the impression a holy man is involved in the disappearance of these women. Or more accurately, a man who considers himself holy."

"Yeah," I said and thought, I got the same information without psychic powers.

I told Steven to stand fast while I talked to Mrs. Howell. I found her in the retirement home's office. She was at her desk looking over some papers. I politely asked if she knew Father Bob's last name.

She frowned and said, "You know, I'd never thought about it before, but no, I don't know his last name."

Luckily, her husband came in and saved the day. Mr. Howell said, "He gave us a bunch of business cards when he first started coming here." Mr. Howell took a card out of a dish on his desk and handed it to me. "There you are." Then he lowered his voice and became deadly serious. "I hope we haven't been remiss in allowing him access to our establishment."

"Did you do a background check on him?" I was deadly serious, too.

"No," Mr. Howell admitted. "But that is something I will be changing. I realize we have been rather lax in our security."

Security? What security? I wanted to scream. They didn't have any security at all.

I kept my manners and politely said, "Security is very important. The elderly are often victims of scams. I can put you in touch with a reliable firm if you're interested."

Mr. Howell was more than interested and I left him with a name and number. I also left the office with the information that Father Bob was not currently at the retirement home. He'd left shortly after lunch.

I met Steven in the foyer and herded him out the door. I checked the parking lot as we headed to my car. Nothing had changed since our arrival. The retirement home's two white vans were still parked in the lot.

I dropped Steven at the diner (where his car was), thanked him for his help, and said I would call later. I even apologized that I had to rush off. Steven stood on the curb looking numb, or perhaps lost in thought. He hadn't said much on the drive to the diner and I hadn't given it much thought. My mind was going a million miles an hour. I had things to do. First on the list was call dad and have him run a background check on Father Bob.

AKA: Robert W. Glanville.

A/N: Well, thank you, thank you for the nice reviews. I still don't think I deserve them IMHO.

Why into the mind of Wilson? Because I think it's important to understanding why the villain does what he does.

Glad people are enjoying the story. :)