Nothing to Lose (J.P. Beaumont #25)(51)
That went a long way to explaining the necessity of using restraints. “I had no idea your husband was ill,” I said. “What’s going on with him, Alzheimer’s?”
Shelley shook her head. “Not exactly,” she answered. “The doctors say it’s some form of early-onset dementia. No cure, of course. We just have to wait it out. As for your missing person? When I realized you were asking about Chris, that little creep from all those years ago, it rubbed me the wrong way. Roger can barely remember his own name these days. How could he possibly remember Chris?”
Dealing with a mentally challenged patient in need of constant supervision was a legitimate explanation for the bruising I’d seen on Roger Adams’s wrist. Suddenly I felt ashamed of the fact that my pocketed cell phone was still busy recording our conversation, but since there was no way to turn it off at that moment, I let it be.
Shelley had ushered me into a wood-paneled living room with a roaring fire burning in an enormous river-rock fireplace. The room was filled with comfortable pieces of well-used, overstuffed leather furniture.
Shelley settled into an easy chair situated in front of the fireplace and motioned me into the matching one next door. As she crossed her legs, the robe fell open slightly, revealing a pair of shapely legs that clearly matched the rest of her. Shelley Adams was a good-looking woman. Even with wet hair and no makeup, she was a natural beauty, with clear skin, good bones, and fine features. I knew from Penny Olmstead that Shelley was considerably younger than her husband, but at this point the difference in ages could have been thirty years rather than half that. Shelley was still youthful and vibrant. Roger was a frail, used-up shell of an old man.
“So what’s all this about Christopher Danielson?” Shelley asked.
“Did you know him?” I wondered.
“We never met in person,” she said, “but I certainly heard about him, and none of it was good. Jack, my first husband, and I were close friends with Roger and Eileen, Rog’s first wife. The four of us had lots of great times together, but our relationships were such that we shared some of the bad stuff, too. As far as Roger and Eileen were concerned, Chris Danielson was bad news.”
“Because he was a high-school dropout or because he and their daughter were expecting a child out of wedlock?” I asked.
“All of the above,” Shelley said with a nod. “Of course, a dozen years later when gender-reveal parties routinely precede both engagements and weddings, that whole premise seems almost quaint, but that was what her parents believed at the time—that their bright, promising daughter was squandering her future on some low-life loser. They wanted her to graduate from high school, go off to college, and do something useful with her life.”
Which is just what she’s done, I thought, and without an ounce of help from either of her parents.
Before I could ask another question, I heard a key turn in the front door and a man and woman let themselves into the house. The pair appeared to be in their thirties or forties and looked a bit sketchy and unkempt. Between them, however, they carried several grocery bags, and Shelley wasn’t the least bit alarmed that they had entered on their own.
“That’s my cousin Nadine and her husband, Duncan,” Shelley explained as the new arrivals disappeared down a hallway without any words of greeting. “They stop by from time to time to help out. This is a big place to manage on my own. Nadine does a lot of the cooking and most of the housework. Dunk handles the firewood supply and makes sure the vehicles are all in good working order. And as long as they’re around, whenever I need a break, I have someone on hand to look after Roger.”
I knew from Todd’s dossiers that the house on Diamond Ridge Road had belonged to Roger and Eileen Adams long before Shelley had officially entered the picture, but clearly it belonged to Shelley now—lock, stock, and barrel. She was in charge, and I suspected Roger had very little say in how things were managed, one way or the other.
“Now, where were we?” Shelley asked.
“We were talking about Danitza and Chris,” I prompted.
“Oh, yes,” Shelley said. “Roger believed that if Chris was out of the picture, Nitz would see the error of her ways and come home.”
“But that’s not what happened.”
“No, it’s not,” Shelley agreed. “No matter how much Eileen and Roger disapproved, she was hell-bent on keeping that baby, and that’s what she did.”
“So what do you think happened to Chris Danielson?” I asked.
“I don’t have to think about what happened to him because I know what happened,” Shelley asserted. “Roger offered him an armload of money in order to convince him to get lost, and that’s what he did. That no-good worm of a kid took the money and ran, just like the scumbag everyone always said he was. But even with him out of the picture, Danitza never came back home. Apparently she’s every bit as stubborn as her father. I don’t believe she and her father have exchanged a word since.”
For good reason, I thought. Being barred from my mother’s funeral would have done it for me.
“What about Eileen?” I asked. “Did she ever reach out to her daughter in hopes of a reconciliation?”
“Not as far as I know,” Shelley replied. “Part of her problem was disappointment with her sister, Penny. Eileen felt that Penny and her husband, Wally, enabled Danitza’s bad behavior by giving the girl a refuge when she ran away from home.”