The 6:20 Man(100)

“Not good at all.”

“There he is,” hissed Montgomery.

Chilton had walked out of the brownstone. He got into his BMW and drove off.

Devine and Montgomery pulled into traffic behind him.

Let’s see where you’re going, thought Devine.

It didn’t take long. The BMW turned into a posh assisted living center. It was located in an old brick building that took up half the block.

They waited for Chilton to go inside and then followed.

The place looked like an upscale hotel. As Devine glanced around, he saw elderly residents in wheelchairs and walkers. Some were reading in what looked to be the library; others were watching TV. Still others were just sitting and gazing off or slowly walking around.

Montgomery caught sight of Chilton walking down a hall and grabbed Devine’s arm to alert him, before Chilton disappeared around the corner.

“What do you think is going on?” he asked her. “Why is he here?”

“I think Poppy might be here.”

“So, what do we do?”

“Act like we belong here. I’ve actually been doing that my whole life,” she added with a weak smile tacked on.

They walked down the hall, passing by staff members. One stopped and asked if they needed help.

Montgomery said, “I was supposed to meet Christian Chilton here.”

“Oh, yes, he just came in. He’s with his grandfather.”

“That’s right. He said that Poppy was here now. I haven’t seen him in some time. Is he doing okay?”

The woman smiled sadly. “It’s not easy getting old. And Mr. Chilton is over eighty. He used to be in the assisted living part of this facility. But now he’s in our memory unit.”

“Oh, you mean . . . ?” said Montgomery.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. Would you like me to take you to them?”

“You know, I think we’ll just catch up with Christian when he’s done, if that’s okay. I didn’t know Poppy was . . . I’ll just let them have their visit.”

“All right, you can wait in the lobby.”

“Thanks again.”

Montgomery turned to Devine, her eyes teary. “God, I didn’t know that about Poppy. I just remember this wonderful old man who liked to play games with us.”

Thirty minutes later Christian Chilton appeared in the lobby. Devine noted he was wiping at his eyes.

When he saw Devine and Montgomery, he jerked back. “What are you doing here?”

“How’s Poppy?” asked Montgomery.

Chilton looked flustered. “He’s . . . he’s got Alzheimer’s.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that, Christian? I live here. I could have come and visited him.”

“He wouldn’t remember you. He doesn’t remember me.” He glanced at Devine. “And what are you doing here with her?”

“We’re friends, Christian, like you and me,” answered Montgomery.

Chilton stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced away.

“This place must be very expensive,” said Montgomery.

“Everything in New York is very expensive.”

Devine said, “You’ve come a long way in a very short period of time.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” barked Chilton.

“From family bankruptcy to mega bucks in six years?”

Chilton shot Montgomery a look. “You should keep your mouth shut, Michelle.”

“Is that why you did it? To pay for Poppy’s care? And to support your mom?”

“Did what exactly?”

Devine said in a low voice, “You really want to go down with Brad Cowl?”

Chilton took a step back and said, “I got a meeting to get to.”

Montgomery put a hand on his arm. “Christian, we can help you get out of this.”

He shook his head, then looked at her and smiled sadly. “No, you can’t, Michelle. We’re not kids anymore. And this isn’t a game.”

“It’s never too late. You remember Poppy telling us that when we got into trouble.”

“Poppy . . . It’s just too late, Michelle. But I appreciate you trying.”

“Michelle told me that you set her up with Cowl,” interjected Devine. “Why’d you do that?”

Chilton eyed Montgomery. “I told you why. I knew she could use the money. Brad loves beautiful women, and there’s no woman more beautiful than Michelle.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“Yeah, why?”

“He also pays her to wear red and green bikinis at certain times out by the pool.”

Chilton looked at him funny. “A bikini? Why would he pay for that?”

“And the last lady he employed for that purpose ended up dead. They said suicide, but I don’t think she jumped into the East River all by her lonesome.”

“What ‘last lady’?”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“How much funding do you get from Cowl?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“But you will have to tell the police.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Chilton heatedly.