Big Jack - By Nora Roberts & J. D. Robb Page 0,79

part of him. “They’re for my grandmother.” Even as bile rose in his throat, he smiled. “A very special lady. But . . . ” Under the pleased and approving eye of the attendant, he opened the box, took out a single pink rosebud. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you had one.”

“That’s so kind of you,” the attendant responded. “There you are now, Tiffany, isn’t that nice? A pretty rose from a handsome man.”

“Lots of handsome men give me flowers. Lots of them.” She stroked the petals and lost herself in some blurry memory.

“You said you were here to see your grandmother?” the attendant prompted.

“Yes, that’s right. Janine Whittier. They told me downstairs she was in the common room.”

“Yes, she is. Miss Janine’s a lovely lady. I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you. If you need any help, just let me know. I’ll be back shortly. I’m Emma.”

“Thank you.” And since he couldn’t be sure Emma wouldn’t be useful, he braced himself and leaned down to smile in the old woman’s face. “It was nice to meet you, Miss Tiffany. I hope to see you again.”

“Pretty flowers. Cold eyes. Dead eyes. Sometimes shiny fruit’s rotted at the core. You’re not my Johnnie.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma whispered, and wheeled the old woman away.

Hideous old rag, Trevor thought and allowed himself that shudder before he walked the rest of the way into the common room.

It was bright, cheerful, spacious. Areas were sectioned off for specific activities. There were wall screens set to a variety of programs, tables arranged for game playing, visiting, crafts, seating areas for visiting as well, or for passing the time with books or magazines.

There were a number of people in attendance, and the noise level reminded him of a cocktail party where people broke off into groups and ignored the talk around them.

When he hesitated, another attendant, again female, came over. “Mr. Whittier?”

“Yes, I . . . ”

“She’s doing really well today.” She gestured toward a table by a sunny window where two women and a man appeared to be playing cards.

He had a moment’s panic as he wasn’t certain which woman was his grandmother, then he saw that one of them wore a skin cast on her right leg. He’d have been told, endlessly, if his grandmother had injured herself.

“She looks wonderful. It’s such a comfort to know how well she’s being taken care of, and how content she is here. Ah, it’s such a nice day—not as hot as it was. Do you think I could take her out into the gardens for a walk?”

“I’m sure she’d enjoy it. She’ll need her medication in about an hour. If you’re not back, we’ll send someone out for her.”

“Thank you.” Confident now, he strolled over to the table. He smiled, crouched. “Hi, Grandma. I brought you flowers. Pink roses.”

She didn’t look at him, not even a glance, but kept her focus on the cards in her bony hands. “I have to finish this game.”

“That’s all right.” Stupid, ungrateful bitch. He straightened, holding the box of flowers as he watched her carefully select and play a card.

“Gin!” the other old woman called out in a surprisingly strong, steady voice. “I beat the pants off you again.” She spread out her hand on the table and had their male companion swearing.

“Watch that language, you old goat.” The winner turned in her chair to study Trevor as the man carefully counted points. “So you’re Janine’s grandson. First time I’ve seen you. Been here a month now, and haven’t seen you visit. I’m only in for six weeks.” She patted the skin cast. “Skiing accident. My granddaughter comes in every week, like clockwork. What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m very busy,” he said coldly, “and I don’t believe it’s any of your concern.”

“Ninety-six my last birthday, so I like to make everything my concern. Janine’s son and daughter-in-law come in twice a week, sometimes more. Too bad you’re so busy.”

“Come on, Grandma.” Ignoring the busybody, Trevor laid his hands on the back of Janine’s chair.

“I can walk! I can walk perfectly well. I don’t need to be dragged around.”

“Just until we get outside, in the gardens.” He wanted her out, and quickly, so he laid the white box across her lap and aimed her chair toward the doorway. “It’s not too hot out today, and nice and sunny. I bet you could use the fresh air.”

Despite the cleanliness of the place, the floods of money that went into maintaining it, all Trevor could

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