If ever there was a motive, Ty would have one. He’d gone off to make a career out being a chef since I wouldn’t classify Normal Diner as fine dining, though it was pretty good from what I had yesterday.
Who wouldn’t be a little upset that your dreams were cut short because your father had a heart attack, almost died and had no one but you to raise the other two kids at home because your mom had an early death from cancer? If that didn’t sound like motive to kill someone, say Paul, out of anger, then I didn’t know what was.
And the fact that Ty lived at Happy Trails where Paul was discovered dead? That was just too coincidental to me.
All the possibilities of Ty being the killer started to take form in my head and I’d practically all but called Detective Hank on him to tell say that Ty Randal was the killer. I’d restrained myself after I googled the words nursing home and rehabilitation center in Normal and found that there was only one. From the gossip I’d heard about how Ty had to move back from his dream life as a chef back to Normal because my ex put his dad almost in the poor house and might be root of his heart condition, that sounded like a good motive to me.
The call to Detective Hank could wait until I checked out Mr. Randal and see exactly what I could find out there.
On my forty-minute drive back, I’d even convinced myself that Ty had a great motive and with good legal counsel he might have a far shot. After all, his father and brothers needed him. Why else would he be so nasty to me when all the others in Normal had been somewhat forgiving? A little leery, but still forgiving.
Just as I was turning into the dual facility, my phone rang.
“Hi, Dottie,” I answered after I’d seen it was her name.
“Hey, doll.” The big inhale from the other end of the phone was indication she was smoking her cancer stick. “Listen, Hank Sharp was here lookin’ for ya. Apparently, some lady called him and told him that you came to see her and he’s all a flutter about it.”
“Is that right?” I slammed the shift into parking and stewed a little. “And to think I was going to give Jr. a job.”
“Jr? Who’s Jr? Job? If you can pay someone, you need to pay me. Which brings me to the next thing.” Another audible suck of the cigarette came through the phone. “He also wanted to know if you gave me some bribe money because a mysterious deposit made it into my bank account. When he pressed Alvin about it, Alvin folded like a deck chair.”
“I guess I should’ve just given you the cash.” That’s what I get for trying to be sly.
“Doll, the problems of your husband doesn’t mean you have to make good. It’s all his fault. So stop trying so hard and just come back to the campground so we can just start over. Or if you’ve got a guilty conscience about something, I’m all ears.” The sweet Dottie on the phone wasn’t the Dottie that I’d gotten to know over the last few days.
All that Doll stuff. What was going on? I had an idea.
“Is Detective Hank there with you? Am I on speaker phone?” I asked. “You know what, Dottie. You don’t have to answer that. Let me tell you something Detective,” I was spitting mad, “Dottie Swaggert and I didn’t kill Paul. I’ve dedicated my life to repaying all the people back that Paul wronged and the only way I can think to do that for the good folks in Normal is to bring back some sort of tourist spot like Happy Trails to boost the economy. If you’ve got a better idea, then I’m open to suggestion. Other than that, leave me alone!” I hung the phone up.
I sat in the car for a few minutes to regain my composure. I had a hard time wrapping my head around why Detective Hank Sharp would continue to think I had anything to do with Paul’s death. So I might’ve said I would kill him, but that was before I knew he was really dead. Dottie Swaggert aside, I was going to find out exactly where Grady Cox had disappeared to and check in on the Randals. One of the two had something to do with Paul’s death, only I didn’t know which one.
There were two wings to the building. The North Wing was the nursing home and the South Wing was the rehabilitation center. In the middle was big open rotunda with a circular desk in the middle. Two women were seated behind the desk just gabbing away about something, abruptly stopping when I came in.
“New PT?” One smiled at me.
“PT?” I started to say you mean PYT, pretty young thing as in the Michael Jackson song, but didn’t think they’d think it was funny.
“Physical therapist?” She questioned. “Or OT?”
“OT?” I asked.
“Can we help you?” The other one said.
“Yes. I’m Mae West. . .erheimer to see Mr. Randal.” I decided to make my name a little longer since West was quit popular around here.
“Ms. Westerheimer, what’s you business with Mr. Randal?” She asked.
“That’s none of your business,” the other woman said, nudging the other. “He’s down the hall in room fifteen. He’d love to have some company.”
“Thank you.” I didn’t stay around in fear of more questioning, but the low-murmurs I heard from them as I walked away, wasn’t all that nice. They had all sorts of ideas who I was, including Mr. Randal’s private nurse when he was to come home.
The rehabilitation center was a place where people who needed more around the clock care came after an illness to help with recovery. It looked like an apartment to me. The hall was long, there were doors on each side. Some of them had a wreath, but number fifteen did not.
If Mr. Randal was my father, I’d had a wreath on the door. But he wasn’t and there was no sense in bringing up memories that I’d stored in the back of my head. That included my parents. They’d been dead a long time now. Maybe that was why I had a soft spot for the Randals. Especially the younger two boys.
“Doors open!” the gruff voice greeted my knock.
“Mr. Randal.” I pushed through the door to find a frail man in a wheel chair. He had the nicest silver hair that I’d never seen on a man and smiled when I pictured Ty with silver hair. In fact, I had to put my hand on my stomach from the flip flop it gave me, making me gulp.
More so, making me disturbed since I’d not had that sort of feeling since I’d met Paul.
“I was wondering when you were coming to stop by here.” Mr. Randal looked at me. “I’d recognize your face from anywhere.”
“I guess using Westerheimmer at the front desk really wasn’t deceiving anyone?” I joked when I didn’t feel too threatened by him.
“You’re face has been all over the news for months.” He grinned and I could definitely see the resemblance between him and Ty. “Plus, my son.” He laughed. “I’ve not seen a girl give him fits in years. You got his goat.”
“His goat? I don’t have his goat. In fact, I’ve not seen a goat at the campground.” I made a mental note to make sure there were no goats.
“Mae West, you’ve got a lot to learn if you’re really going to be sticking around here.” He winked. “Though you and I both know you aren’t sticking around. Are you?”
“I’m sorry.” Was I that transparent?
“Ty told me about the fundraiser and how you’ve gotten stuff donated. I’m not saying you’re like Paul, but you’re a smart gal. Graduated college with an economics degree. Young. Pretty. What does a town like Normal got to offer you?” He put his hand up when I started to protest. “Ty is just like you. He’s spent half of his life trying to get out of this town. When he finally did and making a good life for himself, I have this stupid heart attack and can’t work.”
“May I?” I pointed to the chair next to him.
“Of course.” He grabbed the remote control and turned the TV off. “Where are my manners?”