Read Online Bingoed by Patricia Rockwell - Free Book Online

left.” Essie agreed to this plan and the two women started to roll their walkers away down the first hallway they intended to check.
    As Essie glided down the silent hallway, she realized how much quieter the second floor was compared to the first floor. She had gotten used to the ambient noise from the lobby and family room that seeped through her walls. Up here, the hallways were like a tomb—no people, no sound. Essie moved her walker along the carpeted floor, carefully glancing at each doorway to note the name of the resident who lived there. Each door had a gold nameplate and all nameplates had a name—unless of course no resident lived there. However, that happened seldom because when a resident moved away or died (the last option being the more common), the suites were quickly filled by new residents. Happy Haven was a popular assisted living facility and many older people wanted to live there.
    As she rounded the corner at the end of the hallway, she found what she was looking for—Bob Weiderley’s apartment, immediately on her left. Unfortunately, on his door was also a massive metal lock—the kind the police place on doors at crime scenes. She realized that they had probably placed this external lock on Bob’s door so that no one (and “no one” meant aides, cleaning people, or residents) could get into his apartment while he was in the hospital. She remembered that she had seen a similar lock on her neighbor Charlene’s door when Charlene was in rehab for several weeks after breaking her leg. It took a special key to open the external lock and she had no idea where to find it. She rolled her walker around and sat on its built-in seat. Then she bent down to examine the structure of the lock, with the idea that possibly she could use a knife or a bobby pin to pry it open. A shadow appeared.
    “What are you doing?” Essie popped upright, startled. Standing in front of her, hands on hips, was Violet Hendrickson, Director of Happy Haven.
    “Violet! Miss Hendrickson!” sputtered Essie. “I . . . I . . . was just curious about these . . . locks. I just saw it on this door and wondered how it worked. You know, how it was attached and how it kept people from getting in.”
    “This isn’t your room, Essie,” said the tall woman, ignoring Essie’s excuses. She tapped her manicured fingertip on the sleeve of her beautiful purple designer suit coat.
    “I know,” replied Essie, blushing. “I was just out for some exercise. You know, Miss Hendrickson. You always tell us how important it is to get some daily exercise . . .”
    “That doesn’t explain why you’re trying to remove the lock from Mr. Weiderley’s door,” continued the Director, with no sign of warmth or understanding on her severe but carefully made up face.
    “Oh, no, Miss Hendrickson!” said Essie. “I’m certainly not trying to remove it! I know how important it is to keep poachers out. I was just looking to see how it works. You know, how one could devise some sort of lock to place over a doorknob that would secure a door from outside. Really quite inventive!”
    “That’s why we use them,” responded Violet Hendrickson. “They’re quite strong—and fool-proof. You can’t remove one without the key.”
    “That’s wonderful!” noted Essie, stuttering. “Really, wonderful! I’d hate to see anyone break into Mr. Weiderley’s apartment while the poor man is stuck in the hospital. He’s such a nice gentleman. All of the ladies at my table admire him so much, we all . . .”
    “That’s fine, Essie,” interrupted Violet, with a deep intake of air, “but that’s enough curiosity for now, I believe. Why don’t you get going and finish your walk.”
    “Oh, yes, ma’am. I’ll do that!” Essie grabbed the handles of her walker, and guided it around and back down the main residential hallway of the second floor. When she reached the elevator, she risked a glance backwards. Violet Hendrickson was still standing there,