Chapter 25
Shady Oaks Retirement Community, Friday at 1:30 pm
"This is quite the establishment," Booth commented as the partners exited the SUV and headed for the front door. The four-story building was made with tan bricks with red accents at the windows. The lawns were well manicured and the parking lot had been freshly resealed.
"Very nice. I wonder how much it costs?" Brennan asked.
"Good question. Guess it depends on what section of the building you're in," Booth commented, knowing where she was going with her question. How did a retired police detective afford such a place?
The entered the building and were immediately greeted by a receptionist, attempting to stop someone from getting out the front door.
"Can I help you?" She asked blocking the elderly man in a wheelchair from continuing his escape.
"Yes but it seems you have your hands full," Booth said as Brennan admired what appeared to be a newly renovated atrium.
"Another day at Shady Oaks, what can I say?" She smirked and quickly locked the brakes on the wheelchair before heading through a door that led to her desk.
"We're looking for a Sheldon Rumpl," Brennan told her.
"Mr. Rumpl? Hmmm… the name is familiar…" the receptionist grabbed her Rolodex and flipped to the appropriate name card.
"Ah here we are. Mr. Rumpl has a restricted visitors list. I'll have to ask you to wait for the Nursing Supervisor," she explained.
"We can wait," Booth smiled.
"Help yourself to some coffee over in the solarium and I'll give her a jingle," the young woman smiled and quickly picked up the phone.
"What do you suppose the old man in the wheelchair did to deserve such treatment?" Brennan asked Booth once they were outside the receptionist's earshot.
"He must not be allowed outside by himself. He probably has declining mental faculties," her partner explained.
"Logical approach. One would think they would put such patients on a different floor so they couldn't try to escape," she commented.
"You'd think but perhaps their nursing facility is slowly overrunning their assisted living facility," Booth said. Brennan nodded. Every year more and more of America's population was growing older putting a strain on families and nursing homes alike.
"The Nursing Supervisor is coming right up," the receptionist interrupted their thoughts as she had managed to turn the old man around. She pushed him around the corner under a sign that read "Unit A" with an arrow. Back in a few seconds, she approached the partners.
"Are you friends of Sheldon's?" She asked.
"Not exactly," Booth showed her his badge.
"Oh my," the woman commented.
"Are these the people here to see Mr. Rumpl?" A tall woman with dirty blonde hair asked.
"Oh yes. This is…" the receptionist hadn't been given their names and she stumbled.
"Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI. This is my partner Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian Institute," Booth filled in.
"Why don't we step into my office?" The Nursing Supervisor smiled. She pointed to an open door right near the corner where the receptionist had ducked around with the man in the wheelchair.
"Watch out for Sammy," the nurse called to the receptionist. It hadn't taken long for the old man to figure out he'd been duped.
"Can you call 'B' and have them come get him? I haven't been able to get anyone down here," she asked.
"I'm on it," the Nursing Supervisor went into her office, closed the door, and immediately punched the memorized extension number into the phone.
"Send someone down here immediately. Sammy shouldn't even be on this floor and he is trying to escape again," she spoke into the phone and from what Booth could tell whoever was on the other end promised to come get him as soon as they got off the phone.
"You'd better or I'll be reporting this to MY superior," with that the call ended and the woman apologized.
"Sometimes you have to put the fear of God into them and then they respond. Happens when you have three people call off from the same unit. Patient safety is key and we don't let things like this happen on a regular basis. Before I end up being completely rude, I'm Meta, why did you want to see Sheldon?" She asked.
"Official business if he is still mentally with it," Booth explained.
"You're in luck. Sheldon is still sharp as a tack even though he's almost eighty years old. He lives on the third floor with our assisted living group. You see the assisted living sections are on three and four while our nursing sections are on one and two, makes for easier emergency evacuations that way," Meta told them.
"Are his visitors restricted because he used to be a police detective?" Brennan asked.
"Partly but mostly because of his family. I can't go into all the details without violating the patient's privacy but you'd be surprised how many family squabbles end badly," the Supervisor said.
"Thanks for your time, if you'll give us his room number, we'll get out of your hair," Booth smiled.
"Room three-oh-five, when you leave here head to the right, the elevator is right there. On the third floor, follow the signs," Meta smiled and they all stood. She held the door for them and the partners quickly found the elevator.
Three hundred and five was easy to find upon exiting the elevator and Booth knocked on the door to the room.
"Mr. Rumpl, it's Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan," with any luck he wouldn't have to announce he was FBI. The door opened and very well looking elderly man opened it.
"Do I know you?" He asked.
"We're here on official business," Booth flashed his badge. Rumpl looked around in the hallway and quickly ushered them inside the cozy apartment.
"Official business huh? What could little old me offer the Federal Bureau of Investigation?" Rumpl wanted to know as he offered them seats on his couch. He took a seat across from them in a La-Z-Boy.
"We're looking into the murder of Burt Seaford," the G-man said.
"Ah well then you've come to the right place. Doctor Ed Smith and I were confounded by the results. I know he was murdered but we didn't have a ton of proof other than the angle of the shot. Of course forensics weren't what they are today anyway. You test the gun for anything I might have missed?" Sheldon asked.
"Wait, you said that the coroner declared it a murder?" Brennan wanted to know.
"Why wouldn't he? Suspicious circumstances, upward angle of the gunshot, the fact that there were no fingerprints on the weapon, I mean, the only thing missing was a suspect," Rumpl replied.
"We found the coroner's report to have been copied and altered. Not only that the gun is missing," Booth explained.
"Shit. I knew something was hinky when the Sheriff at the time told me to close the case or file it. I was only given two weeks to chase down leads before they pulled the plug. It was a media circus you see, everyone in town wanted to know who would kill old Burt. Sweetest guy you've ever met. Never turned anybody away if they needed help. Then he goes ahead and mysteriously shoots himself? No way. Most cases I saw, the person who committed suicide held the gun at a ninety-degree angle against their temple. Instead what the Doc found was more like a sixty-degree angle. I thought it was somebody trying real hard to make it look like a suicide," Sheldon said.
"What was the name of the Sheriff at the time?" Booth asked.
"Art Haberly. He died a long time ago though. His boy got sent to Desert Storm and came home in a pine box. The next day, Art hung himself. Left a note saying he couldn't go on, especially since his wife was gone some ten years before that," the ex-police detective filled them in.
"So someone doctors the files and steals the gun after the case gets put away prematurely. There is no one left alive to talk to about it except Raymond Seaford," Booth shook his head.
"I'll tell you right now, it would have remained quiet if Leonard Setter hadn't called me up on his deathbed. He had lung cancer you see and he told me he wanted to get something off his chest. Said he killed Burt Seaford. Not because he wanted to but because he had to. Told me to go digging and I'd find what I was looking for. Never understood what the poor bastard meant. He died while talking to me," Sheldon explained.
"Go digging?" Brennan raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I have no idea what he was talking about but maybe it'll help you. If I can be of any more help, come and see me. I don't get visitors too often and I'd like to see the one that got away get caught," Rumpl smiled.
"I'll keep you posted. If you think of anything, here's my card," Booth stood and handed him a card from his jacket pocket.
"Thanks, I will," Sheldon nodded as he showed the partners out.
To Be Continued…