as she rounded the curved section of lilies before she reached the roses, a low humming echoed toward her. The song, “Amazing Grace.” The shadow wasn’t a prowler, but one of the patients, Leon Brittles, who was suffering from Alzheimer’s.
Her heart broke as she watched him kneel in front of the angel statue. It wasn’t the first time he’d come out there. At night, he often forgot where he was. He confused the rose garden with the memorial garden where he’d buried his wife, Hazel.
Quietly, she put her phone away, let him finish his ritual, then approached him. “Leon,” she said softly. “What a beautiful night to visit your wife.” She put her arm around him. “But it’s getting chilly and it’s time to go in.”
He looked up at her dazed and confused, then a smile softened his eyes. “She likes it when I sing to her.”
“I know she does,” Peyton said gently. “But she wants you to be tucked in tonight while it’s cold.”
“There was the prettiest young girl here before you came,” Leon said. “But she looked so sad. I heard her crying in the garden. That’s why I came out.”
Peyton inhaled a deep breath. Like her mother, Leon got confused. But he’d never talked about a young girl before. Maybe he was hallucinating about his wife when she was younger.
“Tell me about this girl,” Peyton coaxed.
His eyes lit as he bobbed his head up and down. “She had long wavy black hair and was so pretty, but she looked so alone. When I spoke to her, she ran off. I reckon I scared her.”
“Oh, Leon, you couldn’t scare anyone away. I’m sure she was just tired and ready to call it a night.” She rubbed his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go inside.” He stumbled slightly and she steadied him, then led him back to his cottage. By the time they reached his place, he was wobbling, and his eyes were closing. She settled him into his room, then locked the door and texted Fred. He agreed to walk by Leon’s cottage during the night and make sure he didn’t wander outside again.
Then she drove back to her apartment. As she parked, she scanned the front of her building and the property, and saw another nurse heading into her own unit. Relieved that she recognized the cars in the parking lot as belonging to various staff members, she locked her car, then hurried up the sidewalk to her first-floor apartment. She’d chosen the bottom floor because she liked to step outside on her patio in the morning and enjoy her coffee and the view.
Foolish. It would have been wiser to have chosen the second floor where breaking in would be more difficult.
A gust of wind picked up, hurling dead leaves across the path and the trees swayed, branches bobbing up and down as if a storm was brewing. The scent of impending rain filled the air and thunder rumbled above.
She unlocked the door, wishing she had a security system, although when she’d approached management about one for the staff apartments, they’d claimed security systems were costly and unnecessary. The property was already secure. It was gated, and you needed a code to get onto the property.
Yet the woods behind the building offered numerous places to hide. Someone could park and sneak in through the woods, if they wanted to slip past security. She darted inside, flipped on the light and scanned the open living room/kitchen area. Everything appeared as she’d left it this morning when Agent Maverick had knocked on her door and carted her to the sheriff’s office.
She locked her door, dropped her keys on the table by it and headed to the kitchen for a drink of water. But a plain brown manila envelope caught her eye.
She went still, then glanced across the room again. Nothing was out of place.
But someone had been inside her apartment.
Fear sliced through her, and she grabbed a kitchen knife and slowly inched through her apartment to the hall. It was only one bedroom and bath, and she could see the entire space from the doorway to her bedroom. At first glance, she didn’t see anyone inside.
Pulse pounding, she returned to the kitchen and examined the envelope. No return address. No postage. Someone had hand delivered it and broken into her apartment to do so.
Her hand trembled as she ripped open the seal. A cry bubbled in her throat.
She removed the papers with a shaky hand. It was a copy of