Read Online Disturbed Ground by Carla Norton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Carla Norton
Tags: True Crime
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kind of attention anywhere else."
Beth agreed, and the VOA partners, who had worked so hard to find Bert a home in the first place, decided that even if Dorothea Puente was formerly this Dorothea Johansson person, that wasn't a legitimate reason for uprooting Bert and placing him in some less-desirable residence.
Before they could finish the article, the VOA street counselors had reached their destination. Judy told Beth she wanted to read the article later herself, and at the end of the day she took it home, stashing it with some other papers she meant to read just as soon as she had the time.
While rumors about Dorothea Puente's past had sparked and fizzled within certain small circles, none reached the ears of Bill Johnson, back at Detox. He heard nothing of the suspicions raised by Mary Ellen Howard and had no reason to distrust Dorothea Puente. For the most part, Johnson's suspicions had been washed away by Puente's fluid charm. So, when she complained to him about Bert's never-ending string of visitors, he didn't give it much thought.
Dorothea was tired of "those girls" coming over all the time, she told him, meaning the "two Lucys" from the Chest Clinic, and the two VOA workers, Judy Moise and Beth Valentine. She peevishly told him that "all this interference has got to stop."
Bill Johnson listened noncommittally, but was apparently too nice a fellow to convey this admonition to the "girls" for whom it was intended.
Still, Puente had reason to believe that her words had been passed on and heeded, because in mid-June, due to peculiar coincidences, the unwelcome visits ceased.
Bert's Tuesday and Thursday TB checkups came to a sudden end because, according to Lucy Yokota, "We considered him cured." During her final visit, Yokota told Bert that if he had any problems, he should call. Otherwise, they would check on him again in a year.
Coincidentally, visits from Judy and Beth also came to a halt in mid-June. It was nothing planned. It just happened that way. Call it a fluke. Call it fate.
As the summer heated up, so did things at the Volunteers of America headquarters. Everyone on the staff, every program, every dollar was to undergo review. Rumor had it that all the dead weight would be axed. So, for the next several weeks, besides the usual running around, handling emergencies, giving talks, and participating in support groups, the VOA street counselors spent a good deal of time enduring meetings, shuffling papers, and preparing presentations. Further, with more and more homeless on the streets whose cases demanded immediate attention, there simply wasn't time for a social call on Bert, who was, after all, doing extremely well.
No one had any reason to worry about Bert. In fact, wasn't he a shining example of how even a seemingly hopeless case could turn around, given enough care and the right environment?
So, with "those girls" out of the picture, gentle Bert was now left to the lingering affections of his friends back at Detox and the dominant influences of Dorothea Puente. No one guessed how precariously he was situated in that sweet old blue-and-white Victorian, imperiled as a canary in a mine shaft.
On a sweltering Saturday, July 30, Bert Montoya made his way across town to the converted warehouse on Front Street that he'd once called home, and sought out his friend Bill Johnson. Bert was by nature amicable and uncomplaining, but Johnson could tell that something was troubling him. With a bit of gentle prodding, he learned what it was. Bert didn't want to stay at Dorothea's any longer, he told Johnson. He didn't want to "take meds."
This didn't seem especially alarming. Johnson knew that even though the antipsychotic drugs stopped Bert's auditory hallucinations, he disliked the side effects. And just a couple of weeks earlier, Bert had said that once he started receiving his SSI checks he wanted to leave Puente's and get a place of his own .
So now, if Bert wanted to come back to Detox and stop taking
Beth agreed, and the VOA partners, who had worked so hard to find Bert a home in the first place, decided that even if Dorothea Puente was formerly this Dorothea Johansson person, that wasn't a legitimate reason for uprooting Bert and placing him in some less-desirable residence.
Before they could finish the article, the VOA street counselors had reached their destination. Judy told Beth she wanted to read the article later herself, and at the end of the day she took it home, stashing it with some other papers she meant to read just as soon as she had the time.
While rumors about Dorothea Puente's past had sparked and fizzled within certain small circles, none reached the ears of Bill Johnson, back at Detox. He heard nothing of the suspicions raised by Mary Ellen Howard and had no reason to distrust Dorothea Puente. For the most part, Johnson's suspicions had been washed away by Puente's fluid charm. So, when she complained to him about Bert's never-ending string of visitors, he didn't give it much thought.
Dorothea was tired of "those girls" coming over all the time, she told him, meaning the "two Lucys" from the Chest Clinic, and the two VOA workers, Judy Moise and Beth Valentine. She peevishly told him that "all this interference has got to stop."
Bill Johnson listened noncommittally, but was apparently too nice a fellow to convey this admonition to the "girls" for whom it was intended.
Still, Puente had reason to believe that her words had been passed on and heeded, because in mid-June, due to peculiar coincidences, the unwelcome visits ceased.
Bert's Tuesday and Thursday TB checkups came to a sudden end because, according to Lucy Yokota, "We considered him cured." During her final visit, Yokota told Bert that if he had any problems, he should call. Otherwise, they would check on him again in a year.
Coincidentally, visits from Judy and Beth also came to a halt in mid-June. It was nothing planned. It just happened that way. Call it a fluke. Call it fate.
As the summer heated up, so did things at the Volunteers of America headquarters. Everyone on the staff, every program, every dollar was to undergo review. Rumor had it that all the dead weight would be axed. So, for the next several weeks, besides the usual running around, handling emergencies, giving talks, and participating in support groups, the VOA street counselors spent a good deal of time enduring meetings, shuffling papers, and preparing presentations. Further, with more and more homeless on the streets whose cases demanded immediate attention, there simply wasn't time for a social call on Bert, who was, after all, doing extremely well.
No one had any reason to worry about Bert. In fact, wasn't he a shining example of how even a seemingly hopeless case could turn around, given enough care and the right environment?
So, with "those girls" out of the picture, gentle Bert was now left to the lingering affections of his friends back at Detox and the dominant influences of Dorothea Puente. No one guessed how precariously he was situated in that sweet old blue-and-white Victorian, imperiled as a canary in a mine shaft.
On a sweltering Saturday, July 30, Bert Montoya made his way across town to the converted warehouse on Front Street that he'd once called home, and sought out his friend Bill Johnson. Bert was by nature amicable and uncomplaining, but Johnson could tell that something was troubling him. With a bit of gentle prodding, he learned what it was. Bert didn't want to stay at Dorothea's any longer, he told Johnson. He didn't want to "take meds."
This didn't seem especially alarming. Johnson knew that even though the antipsychotic drugs stopped Bert's auditory hallucinations, he disliked the side effects. And just a couple of weeks earlier, Bert had said that once he started receiving his SSI checks he wanted to leave Puente's and get a place of his own .
So now, if Bert wanted to come back to Detox and stop taking
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