“Once he said it.”
The conversation stopped. Decker licked his lips and smoothed his mustache—a habit he often fell back on when he was trying to buy time. “Were they friends, Nurse Schulung and Bertram?” When he got no response, he turned to Ross. “What do you think? Were Nurse Schulung and Bertram friends?”
The man looked lost in thought. “Maybe.”
Colette said, “I think they were friends.”
April said, “But he missed Kathrine.”
A few moments passed, and then James said, “I’m hungry.”
Dr. Mannet looked at her watch. “Break time was forty minutes ago.”
Decker said, “I understand.”
Dr. Lewis said, “You’re done, then?”
“For the time being, yeah. Let’s get everyone fed. No one works well on an empty stomach.”
Chapter 5
As soon as they walked out of the auditorium and into the hallway, Decker said, “This is the number we have for Elsie Schulung. If she’s still not answering, call up the local police and ask them to stop by her house just to make sure she’s okay. We need to talk to her.”
“How far does she live from here?”
“About a half hour away.”
McAdams regarded his watch. It was almost five in the afternoon. “We still have some daylight. When do you want to leave?”
“Around six. I want to talk to the residents who spoke up. See if I can get more one-on-one. Oh, and call up Bertram’s phone carrier. Ask if someone there can pull up Lanz’s records.”
“What about the paperwork?”
“It’ll come. Sometimes the company will accept verbal requests from the police when the MP is a compromised adult. Bertram’s email access will take longer. But call up the service provider anyway even if they won’t do it without paperwork. Tell whoever you talk to that there is exigency.”
“No prob. Where should I meet you when I’m done, boss?”
“Try the dining hall first. If you don’t find me, ask around. Do you have a Tylenol?”
McAdams dislodged his backpack from his shoulders. “I could use something myself. I might be dehydrated.” He pulled out a plastic bottle of Tylenol followed by a blended coffee drink in a can. “I could probably use a little caffeine. Want one?”
“Any water?”
“Just a thermos that I drink from directly. Sorry.”
“I’m sure there’s water in the dining hall.” Decker swallowed the tablets dry and rubbed his forehead. “I know that most Missing Persons cases end up all right. But the ones that don’t . . . there’s always that pressure to get there before it’s too late. Constantly asking yourself, are you overlooking anything that might save a life? At least with Homicide, you have a little time to think. Or maybe it’s just my age finally catching up with me.”
McAdams put his hand on Decker’s shoulder. “I still think you’ve got a lot of professional time left in those old bones of yours.”
Decker smiled. “See you in a bit.” Waiting for the pills to kick in, he headed off to interview some very scared people.
The dining hall was abuzz with conversation. The room held about fifteen round tables, each one big enough for four to six cushioned folding chairs. Some tables were completely occupied. Others were empty. Afternoon sunlight filtered in through enormous picture windows shaded with transparent mesh, but the room lights were also on. There was a long buffet table filled with hot snacks—anything from soup to mini-pizzas. There were also big bowls filled with power bars, bags of potato chips and pretzels, packets of cookies, and small individual containers of mixed nuts. Decker grabbed a water from the cooler, looked around, and found James and Ross, seated by themselves and in intense conversation. He walked over to the table and the talking stopped.
“Mind if I join you?” Decker sat without waiting for permission. “Thank you for your help, gentlemen.” No answer. “Is there anything else you might want to tell me about Bertram?”
After a silence, James finally said, “He didn’t like it here.”
Decker uncapped a water bottle. “He told you that?”
He nodded. “He didn’t play any of the games or go to group time or bingo or movie night.”
Ross said, “I like group time.”
“You do?” Decker said. “Why do you like group time?”
“Snacks.” Ross let go with a smile that lit up his face.
“Snacks are good.” Decker turned back to James. “Colette also thought Bertram was lonely.”
“Yes,” James said. “He was lonely.”
Decker said, “But he talked a lot to Nurse Schulung.”
“Sometimes.”
Ross said, “He was sad when she left.”
“How so?”
“He told me: ‘I’m sad that Nurse Schulung left.’”
Decker gave a small smile. Direct was the best. “I understand that Bertram had a girlfriend from where he used to live before he came to Loving Care.”
“He did.” James nodded. “He said they wanted to get married, but they said no.”
“Who said no?”
“His parents.”
“Yes,” Ross told him. “They’re rich.”
“Who’s rich? Bertram’s parents?”
Ross nodded.
“Who told you Bertram’s parents were rich?”
“Bertram did.”
Decker said, “Did you ever meet Bertram’s parents?”
“No,” Ross said.
James said, “They live far away.”
“That’s why he was sad,” Ross said.
“He was sad being away from his parents?” Decker asked. When there was no response, he said, “Did Bertram ever talk about leaving Loving Care?”
“Where would he go?” James asked.
“Maybe he’d go visit Nurse Schulung?” Decker said.
Both men gave back blank stares. James said, “How would he get there? He didn’t ride a bike.”
Decker decided that this line of questioning was a dead end. He veered in a different direction. “You told me that Bertram didn’t like to participate in group time or movie night. Is that right?” Two nods. “But he went on the field trip to the woods. Did they make him go, or did he want to go?”
James said, “They couldn’t make him go on a trip. That’s against the rules.”
“Then he wanted to go?”
“I dunno.”
“Was he excited to go on the trip?”
James screwed up his body in a shrug. “He sat with Colette on the bus. I saw them talking.”
“Thanks for telling me that.” Decker looked for Colette, eyes scanning the dining hall. “I don’t see her. Do you know where she’d be if she didn’t come in for snacks?”
“In her room,” James said.
“Okay. I’ll check for her in her room.”
“Boss?” At the sound of McAdams’s voice, Decker turned around. The kid crooked a finger in his direction.
“Excuse me, gentlemen. And thanks for your help.”