“That’s good to know,” Ali said, “because it turns out, I’m here to collect.”
“Why? What do you need?”
“To talk to Chip Ralston on the phone, and I’m wondering if you can make that happen.”
Her request was followed by a long period of silence that Ali didn’t take as a good omen, especially since her main goal was to ask Chip if he knew anything about the mysterious Dennis who evidently was a presence in his ex-wife’s life.
“I have some questions about his mother,” Ali added quickly. “She’s an Alzheimer’s patient, and Dr. Ralston is a nationally recognized Alzheimer’s expert.”
“I suppose I could give it a try,” Maxwell said. “Give me your number and five minutes. I’ll see if I can arrange to get him to a phone, but even if I do, that doesn’t guarantee he’ll be interested in calling you back. He’s under no obligation to talk to anyone.”
“Tell him it’s about his mother,” Ali suggested. “That should do the trick.”
Ali stayed parked where she was in the country club lot, scrolling through her notes while she waited. Five minutes later, her phone rang, and Chip Ralston was on the line.
“What’s this about my mother?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”
“How long have you known she has Alzheimer’s?”
Chip hesitated before he answered. “The better part of two years,” he said finally. “Given my training and experience, I was the first one to notice and suspect what was going on. What my dad was willing to write off as simple forgetfulness, I saw as something else. When I tried to discuss it with him, my father went into total denial, at least at first. Then he did everything he could to cover it up and keep anyone else from knowing what was really going on.”
“How did that work out?”
“Okay for a while. I think for a long time he managed to pull the wool over almost everyone’s eyes. Then he had a stroke and died. All of a sudden Mom’s condition was out in the open, because she was clearly losing ground. I never quite figured out how it happened, but I ended up being the bad guy in that scenario. People who knew my parents came to the conclusion that I should have done something to help sooner-as though I should have been able to fix it. The problem is, Alzheimer’s isn’t fixable. Besides, given my father’s attitude toward my specialty, he would have eaten ground glass before accepting my help.”
“Did Molly know about your mother’s condition for a long time?”
“I doubt it. She came home when Dad ended up in a hospital with a stroke, but she showed up armed with the trump card. The folks had given Molly a medical power of attorney for both of them. As soon as she got here, she used it to post the DNR in Dad’s room. And ever since, she’s used it to keep me out of the loop as far as Mom’s treatment is concerned.”
“How do you feel about that?” Ali asked.
“How do you think I feel?” he asked with an edge of bitterness. “At the time, Molly went ballistic right along with everyone else, and blamed me for Mom’s deteriorating condition, although I wasn’t allowed to do anything about it then and haven’t been able to since then, either.”
“So you have no say in decisions about your mother’s care?”
“None whatsoever. I probably could have fought that in the beginning, but I was up to my eyeballs in fighting with Gemma and her attorneys. I didn’t have the energy to wage another war on a whole different front with Molly, especially since Molly, Gemma, and Mom were thick as thieves. My financial life was already spinning out of control. A few months later, it went over a cliff. When I saw I would need a place to stay while I got on my feet, I ended up having to go to Molly, practically on bended knee, for help. She made it clear that I could live in the casita but only so long as I promised not to interfere in any way with how she was caring for our mother.”
“As long as she had the durable power of attorney, she had you over a barrel.”
“In spades,” Chip agreed. “Did then and still does.”
“From what you’re saying, I take it you and your sister aren’t on the best of terms?”
“Molly and I were never on good terms,” Chip replied. “I know there are families where brothers and sisters get along like gangbusters and chum around together. Our family has never been like that. We’re likely to show up for compulsory photo ops on major holidays, but that’s about it. More for show than go.”
“Did you ever tell Lynn what was going on with your mother?”
Chip paused. “No,” he said finally.
“Why not?”
“Because I was ashamed, I guess,” he admitted. “Because I didn’t want her to think I was a hypocrite. Here I am, out at the support group meetings, telling my patients that Alzheimer’s is something that has to be handled as a family, while as far as my own family is concerned, I’m completely shut out from practicing what I preach. So that’s one part of my reluctance to have Lynn involved in my mother’s life. The other part is my mother’s total focus on Gemma. It doesn’t matter if Gemma is dead or alive. As long as Mom maintains that powerful connection to my ex-wife, she’s never going to accept Lynn’s presence in my life. On the one occasion I did try to introduce them-”
“I know. Your mother went ballistic.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“How would you characterize your sister’s care of your mother?”
“I’m not privy to everything that goes on, but she seems to be doing a good enough job. For a while there were problems with Mom setting off the alarm system overnight, but I believe they adjusted her meds so she’s sleeping better. At least she was. There’s a chance that the shock of Gemma’s death might spark another crisis. In that case, Molly might end up needing extra help. She might even call Consuelo back.”
“That’s the maid your sister fired?”
“Yes,” Chip said. “I’m sure she could use the work. She was really loyal to my mom. It’s a shame she had to be let go. Molly always claimed it was a matter of saving money.”
“Might the maid have stolen something?”
“Consuelo? Never,” Chip declared. “Why?”
“Your mother said something to Gemma about losing a necklace, a diamond necklace. With your mother’s condition, it’s hard to tell if it’s something that happened recently or a long time ago.”
“Yes,” Chip agreed. “The time lines do tend to get muddled, but I can’t imagine Consuelo ever stealing something from anyone at all, much less from Mother. I think it’s more likely that whatever it is simply got misplaced.”
“Okay,” Ali said. “One last question. Did your ex-wife have a friend or acquaintance named Dennis?”
“What I don’t know about my ex’s affairs, romantic or otherwise, would fill volumes-for all I know, there could have been a dozen Dennises in her life, but I don’t remember hearing that name mentioned. Ever.”
“I take it there’s still no word from Cap Horning?”
“Not so far. Anything else?”
Ali’s phone buzzed. Stuart Ramey’s name and number appeared on the screen. “Thanks for your help, Chip. I have to run. I’ve got another call.”
25
Hey,” Stuart said when she switched over. “How are things?”
“It’s been an interesting morning.” While she put the Cayenne in gear and eased out of the parking lot, she gave Stu a quick summary of her day so far. She finished by saying, “Now I’m on my way to Doris Ralston’s house to have another chat with her daughter about Monday night. Our interview last night ended abruptly. I know a little more about their situation now, and I have a few more questions. What about you?”
“After you told me about Sanders giving that chunk of change to his son, I went digging in the Mission’s finances and picked up an interesting tidbit. Contributions are down across the board, and so is fund-raising. As a result, the Mission coffers have been running on empty. Until this week, they were three months behind on their lease and behind on payments to suppliers. They’ve evidently been using rent money to make payroll and pay their food vendors. As of Wednesday of this week, their lease is current. It looks like an anonymous forty-five-thousand-dollar cash donation came in at the end of last week. I’m guessing they used some of that to bring their rent up to date and get caught up with their suppliers.”