Chapter 11: First Tuesday

I took the keys to Terrence's truck off the hook by the door.

He stood in the kitchen with his hand still flat on the table.

He did not stop me.

"I'll be at Brightwater," I said.

"I know," he said quietly.

"Kristen, whatever you find..."

"I'll find it myself," I said, and went out.

It was a twenty-five minute drive, and I did it in nineteen.

The head nurse at Brightwater had run the front desk for as long as I'd been coming there.

She was a wide, calm woman in blue scrubs with reading glasses on a chain, and she looked up and beamed.

"Kristen! We saw you on the news!"

"Half the ward's been waving at the television."

"Thank you," I said.

"I need to ask about my mother's account."

"I've come into some money since last week."

"I'd like to pay this month's bill myself, from Prescott's accounts, and I'd like to see how it's been handled."

"Oh, honey, there's nothing owing," she said.

"It's paid through December."

I stared at her.

"Paid by who?"

She turned the monitor so I could see.

It was a long, plain list of dates and amounts.

The first line was four years ago, in December.

The last was this Tuesday.

On every line, in the column labeled PAYER, it said J. NORDQUIST.

"First Tuesday of the month," said the nurse.

"Never late, not once, in four years."

"He puts a note in the envelope that says to give her whatever she needs."

"That's Mr. Terrence."

"The tall one, with the beard."

"And Prescott?" I said.

My voice came out very small.

"My husband. Prescott Nordquist."

The nurse blinked behind her glasses.

"The younger brother?"

"Honey, I don't think I've ever met him."

"He signed the admission forms, and I've seen the signature, but he never came to visit and he never called."

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