Grace Sees Red Read Online Free Page B

course.”
    She stopped long enough to clap a pink hand next to her mouth and stage-whisper, “This end of the building is for the really sick residents. Some of them got moved to this side
from
the East Wing.” She waggled her brows at us as though that was supposed to mean something.
    â€œEveryone who lives here is wealthy, I take it?” I asked.
    She smirked. “You have to be to afford this place.”
    Bennett and I exchanged yet another glance. None of this made sense.
    Cathy resumed walking and chatting. “At least the Sun Gallery is a nice place to wait. Even the East Wing residents come down here when it’s nice out. The view over the lake is really pretty.” As we took a hard right turn, she extended an arm, pointing farther down the hall. “Percy’s already there. They finished with him about ten minutes ago.”
    â€œPercy?” I asked. “Who’s that?”
    She stopped to face us, wrinkling her nose again. “How can you know Frances but not know Percy?”
    Bennett appeared as puzzled as I was. Offering an exaggerated shrug, I said, “Frances doesn’t talk about her personal life.”
    For the first time since we’d met, Cathy regarded us with suspicion. Folding her arms, she asked, “Then why are you here?”
    â€œBecause she asked us to come,” I said. “She gave us this address but didn’t say a word about what was going on.”
    Cathy gave a careless little head bobble. “That’s weird, but people are weird.” She started down the hallway again. “Percy’s her husband.”
    â€œHusband?” Bennett and I repeated in unison.
    With a fresh swagger in her step, Cathy grinned over her shoulder. “Come on. I’ll introduce you.”

Chapter 4

    â€œHere we are,” Cathy said as we stepped through a double-door entryway.
    The Sun Gallery turned out to be a basketball court–sized room with a long wall of screened sliding glass doors, offering a wide view over the lake below.
    A dozen people were scattered about the spacious area, most in small groups of two or three. Two elderly residents, heads down, sat knee-to-knee in a far corner, passing playing cards back and forth. Almost everyone glanced up at our arrival, faces suffused with curiosity. A couple of awkward seconds later, all of them returned to whatever they were doing. One hunched-over man with a blanket on his lap lifted his hand in a hesitant hello. I waved back. He squinted at us, dropped his hand, and turned away.
    I could imagine how on a summer day, with its windowed doors thrown open and a warm breeze drifting in through its many screens, this room could serve as a cheery porch-like vista to enjoy the sun. But today, with inky storm clouds rolling in over the lake, the darkening room gave off an electric buzz.
    Cathy wound her way toward the windowed wall througha sea of wide-set pedestal tables, all of them featuring inlaid checkerboards. “This serves as our game room, too.”
    â€œVery nice,” I said, because she seemed to expect it.
    â€œIsn’t it? Our guests are so fortunate to have such a lovely place to call home. Indwell is state-of-the-art.” She stopped long enough to whisper again. “Poor things. But when people can no longer take care of themselves, this is an ideal alternative.” She delivered this line with a beaming glance at Bennett. A second later, she called, “Percy,” to the man with his back to us, sitting farthest from the door.
    He didn’t respond.
    As we made our way over, we passed a young man in a highly mechanized wheelchair. He rolled his head against the back of the chair’s extended neck brace to face us. With curly black hair and a chin lined with facial scruff, he looked to be about twenty-five years old.
    â€œHey,” he called to us in a slurred but friendly manner. His eyes were a deep-set warm brown, and wide with interest.