Forgotten Witness (16 page)

***

“She deserted me and my father twenty-seven years ago. If you’re interested, I can tell you how long she’s been gone down to the hour. She never tried to contact me or my father or anyone. Now I find her here? You better believe I have a helluva lot of questions, and I’m not leaving here until I have answers.”

In the corner of Bernard Reynolds’ office, Stephen rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, and assumed that he would be losing Ha Kuna House business before the day was out. It was never a good idea to destroy your client’s place and now there was this: a tirade, a history lesson, and a therapy session.

When Josie found her voice she couldn’t stop talking. Not while he cleaned up her hand, butterflied the deep but narrow cuts in her palm, slathered antibiotic ointment on the scrapes on the side of her hand and wrapped the whole thing in gauze.

She kept talking while he searched Reynolds’ office for a bottle of booze. In lieu of a tranquilizer dart, he thought a drink might slow her down a bit. If that didn’t work, he’d take one to dull the pain her incessant chattering was wreaking in his skull. But there was not a drop to be found. He did find a bottle of aspirin. That wasn’t going to make a dent in the pain Josie would eventually feel, but it couldn’t hurt so he gave her four. When they were back on Maui he would give her something stronger and pack her off to her hotel if he could get her off this island by nightfall.

“How are you two doing?” Reynolds was back, giving perfunctory lip service to his concern. Stephen answered:

“Her hand will be fine. No stitches needed. We apprecia–”

“I want to see her. I want to–”

Josie made her demand as she started to get up but Stephen pushed her back down. Her head whipped toward him, but he would have no more of her lip.

“You’ve waited this long, you can wait a bit longer I think. Let’s hear what the man has to say.”

“I’m fine. I am. I don’t want any trouble.” As if to prove it, Josie swung her head toward Reynolds as she made a show of settling.

“Neither do I,” Bernard Reynolds agreed. “But you have already made a great deal more than you know. I can’t imagine what Mr. Kyle was thinking bringing you here like this. This is a private facility. People visit by appointment. What you’ve done is against all protocol and I will hold Mr. Kyle personally responsible. We will certainly be rethinking our business relationship with Keoloko Enterprises.”

“It isn’t his fault. I asked him not to call. I believed a young girl I’ve been looking for was here. I thought if she knew I was coming, she would run away again.” Josie put her hands out to plead with him. “And if we had called and I asked you about Hannah, you would have said she wasn’t here. We never would have come. I never would have known about my mother. Tell me everything. Why is she here? How long has she been here? Was she in an accident?”

Mr. Reynolds went around his desk and sat down. He was shaken but to his credit he kept himself in check. He clasped his hands and bounced them lightly on top of the desk.

“Before I answer any questions, I want you to know that I am not your enemy. I am Emily’s advocate. You aren’t the only one with questions, nor are you the only one who is upset. I understood she had no family. I have never had anything happen like this, and I am not happy about it.”

He unclasped his hands and adjusted the picture frames on his desk. It was him with two grown ups she imagined were his children, obviously sired by a
Haole
and a Hawaiian. There was a baby picture in a frame that was hand painted with the words ‘for grandpa’ but there was no picture of the wife, nor did Reynolds’ wear a wedding ring. He did wear the typical uniform of an island professional – khaki pants and a Hawaiian shirt – but hadn’t left behind his mainland habits of hard soled shoes, dress socks, and a watch. Now that the picture frames were attended to, he seemed at a loss on how to address his distress. Stephen helped him out.

“Mr. Reynolds. Perhaps I can get you something for your nerves?”

“Nerves?” Reynolds repeated.

“By God, man, we all need a drink. Where do you keep the booze?” Stephen barked.

“We don’t keep alcohol in this house,” Reynolds said. “Maybe we should start.”

Josie interrupted. “I will be happy to give you any information about me that you want, but right now I really need some answers. First, what is this place?”

“We are a private home for people with memory disorders like Alzheimer’s and such,” Reynolds answered.

Josie shook her head. “She wasn’t sick before she left. I would remember something like that. My father would have said something.”

“She might have been sick,” Stephen interjected. “Parents don’t like to visit their worries on their children. Don’t forget, you were only a child then.”

“Believe me, I haven’t forgotten anything,” she assured the men. “My father was deployed. He was hardly ever home in the years before that. It was her and me and she was perfectly fine the night before she vanished. She hadn’t been forgetful leading up to that night. Her speech was normal. The only thing that was odd was that I heard her crying in her bedroom. My mother never cried. And then she was gone. Her clothes were still in the closet. She didn’t take anything. She went to bed and in the morning she wasn’t there. Do you think I could forget that?”

“No, I don’t,” Mr. Reynolds agreed.

“How long has she been here,” Josie asked.

“At least fifteen years. That’s when I signed on to administer the facility.”

“And before that?” Josie pressed.

“I don’t know. I would have to go back through the records.”

“Then let’s just do that,” Josie said.

“Josie, be reasonable,” Stephen wailed.

“No, it’s all right,” Bernard Reynolds held up a hand. “I know that this must have been extraordinarily traumatic for you, but it is no less traumatic than what happened to Emily. She is a sweet woman, and I will make sure no harm comes to her.”

“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her,” Josie insisted.

“Confusing a resident like Emily can be hurt enough. She’s had episodes over the years and we finally have her on an even footing. Her reality is this minute and little else. You’re going to have to accept that.”

It was obvious that Mr. Reynolds believed that would be the end of it; Josie knew this was just the beginning.

“I will accept that when I am personally convinced of it,” Josie answered. “I am her daughter. She looked straight at me. She smiled. Whether she consciously knows who I am or not means nothing in the face of the fact that there was something there. Medicine is not an exact science, Mr. Reynolds. Even if it were, you are not a doctor. I would bet that each of our assessments of her condition has about a fifty-fifty chance of being correct. I’d lay money on my fifty percent.”

“And my staff and I have cared for her for many years,” he countered. “I believe we have the advantage. I am sorry for it, but that is the reality.”

Josie steeled herself. She knew he was telling his truth but she also knew that this was no different than a witness on the stand in court. Her job was to keep them testifying until they spoke the truth she wanted to hear.

“How many patients do you have?” she asked.

“Four residents at the moment. Quite frankly, though, I don’t need to answer–”

“This is an expensive property to keep up with only four people. Exactly how exclusive are you?”

“Very.”

Clearly there was a change of attitude. The shock of what had happened was wearing off; his empathy for Josie’s plight was wearing thin. The consequences of what happened that day could be much farther reaching than the injury to Josie’s hand or her heart. Mr. Reynolds no longer fidgeted and color was returning to his face.

“I am not at liberty to discuss our residents or the particulars of this home. And I resent the cross-examination.”

“It was just an observation,” Stephen piped up. He straddled a chair back to front and draped his arms over the top rung as he tried to get into the conversation. He grinned at Josie who had no humor to spare. He tried the same trick on Reynolds who ignored him, too.

“Not true, Mr. Reynolds,” Josie said. “This is a grave situation, and I would like to know everything starting with how she is paying for this kind of facility. I would like to talk to everyone who has contact with her now and for the last however many years she’s been here. That would include the other residents. I want to see her commitment papers. Who is her guardian? I will need her medical records. Most of all, I would like to arrange to transport her as soon as possible. I’ll be taking her back to California. A referral by your doctors would be appreciated, but isn’t necessary.”

“Is that all?” Reynolds asked and Josie missed the ice in his voice.

“Yes, for now.” She got up, tugging at her long knit shirt with her good hand. The shirt and her pants were ruined, covered in blood.

“You’ll have a long wait, Ms. Bates. Not only will I not allow you access to any of our people, I wouldn’t tell you what Emily had for breakfast.” Mr. Reynolds looked at Stephen. “If there is legal action by this woman, there will be counter suits and you will also be named. This is a private institution and as such–”

“I believe this institution sits on Federal land and is, therefore, under the jurisdiction of the Federal courts,” Josie pointed out and his attention swung her way again. He was more formidable than she first imagined.

“And the buildings and the people who run this institution are private. We hold a ninety-nine year lease on forty acres within the confines of Federal parklands. I believe that clarifies our status.”

“Yes,” Josie answered. She would not leave it at that but Reynolds didn’t have to know. The good thing about a legal standing was that exception was the rule. If anyone could find it in this case, she could.

“Good. Then you will also understand that there is nothing I can do for you personally. I have no proof you are who you say you are.” Bernard Reynolds voice was flat but it quivered just a bit.

“I can give you a birth certificate, driver license. I’ll give you…”

“You could have twenty driver licenses,” Reynolds stopped her, unwilling to listen. “I have no doubt your names are the same, and that there is a resemblance, but none of that does me any good. Ha Kuna House and its administrator is legal guardian for Emily. How am I to know if Emily is your mother and not an aunt or a sister? And even if I took the mother/daughter relationship at face value, I have no independent corroboration that you are a sympathetic party. Given what you’ve told me and your behavior here today, I could argue that you are not here to help Emily at all. Perhaps you are looking for payback for something.”

“Reynolds! Please. No need to be insulting.” Before Stephen could finish, Reynolds turned on him.

“Then let me point out that you are pretty much a name on an invoice to me. I should have thrown you both out.”

Josie talked over him, “My mother’s disappearance is a matter of record.”

“I only care about what happens now. I am not at liberty to discuss anything about Emily without her express consent. She can’t give it, and I choose not to answer any questions about this institution.”

Bernard Reynolds stood up. Stephen did the same, twirling the chair and putting it back where he had found it.

“Josie, come on. Let’s catch the tide. We’ll think on this.” Stephen touched her shoulder and gave the administrator a glance as he got up. “And I’m sure Mr. Reynolds will check with his people. We’ll sort it out, won’t we?”

“I will definitely be talking to my superiors,” Reynolds answered. Stephen didn’t think that sounded hopeful at all.

Josie got up, too. She was suddenly exhausted. Her hand was beginning to throb, her heart was battered, and her brain was as close to befuddled as it had ever been. Her entire adult life she had been both decisive and persuasive. Now she was reduced to this: no clear choice, no defined course of action, and no argument that would sway this man. Josie did the only thing she could think to do: she begged.

“Let me see her one more time. Give her a chance to tell you who I am.”

“Ms. Bates,” Mr. Reynolds said her name like he was reading it off a list of people who perished in a tragic accident. “Emily doesn’t even know who she is.”

“She’ll know me. Please,” Josie whispered.

Reynolds looked at Stephen whose shoulders rose as he chucked his chin up and added his two cents. “If what has already happened didn’t upset the woman, I doubt Josie going up to say a few words will.”

Reynolds looked at him with contempt but he couldn’t deny Stephen was right. Still he warned: “The minute you are anything other than conversational, you will be removed. Is that understood?”

Josie nodded. She and Stephen followed the director up the stairs to the top floor. Emily still sat quietly in her chair. Reynolds whispered to her while Josie and Stephen held back and strained to hear what he was saying.

Are you up to it?

Visitors

You can say no

Emily looked at Reynolds as he hunkered down next to her chair. She smiled at him and watched his lips as if that would help her understand what he was saying. She wasn’t impatient or confused, engaged or curious. Emily Bates was simply there like the chair in a room or a window in a wall. She brought no energy to it, nor did she take any away. The light had passed from golden to pale as a peach as the sun went down. The glass had been swept from the floor and the jagged pieces removed from the broken frame. The lace panel had been removed to be cleaned of Josie’s blood. The missing curtain made the two rooms feel naked as if the resident had moved on.

Josie had that same feeling of emptiness when she stood in her father’s house after his death. It wasn’t a personal void, just a physical one. Without her father, the house was nothing more than walls, a patch of lawn, and a roof. Someone else would eat in the kitchen, and someone else would sleep in the bedroom and watch television in the living room. Someday they would be gone too and the cycle would start again.