It probably wouldn’t have been a big deal to me, either. I would’ve just gotten another person up here. Why hadn’t I listened to Grandma?
She’d said that two nurses and three guards should be up there to relieve each other. I assured her it would happen, but I never had the time to do the hiring. Grandma volunteered to hire people herself. No way. I imagined Santeros with paint on their faces and bone necklaces flanking the door. There was no way Grandma could be in charge of such a delicate task. My assistant had offered, too. She’d been standing next to my grandma while we argued about it. Reece knew who lived in the attic and understood that the person’s presence served as a major migraine for my battered skull.
I’ll have to hire new nurses and guards upon the hour. Mrs. Greer’s and Mr. Brewster’s need for conjugal visits may very well have caused the young girl’s death.
“Excuse me. I’m going inside.”
The locksmith pulled the door back. I entered. Little mirrors in the shape of stars hung from the ceiling. Sunlight bounced off them and reflected onto the black paint on the walls. It was like stepping into space. On the right wall, strips of various types of wallpaper were tacked onto the smooth surface. Wherever I traveled or met someone on business, I made sure to get a strip of pretty wallpaper from a local store. Dayanara relished the different textures and colors. Every now and then I’d give her a basket full of chocolates and sour candies, maybe a bottle of lovely smelling perfume, or even an expensive doll dressed in silky ribbons. She never opened or explored those gifts. It was always the strips of wallpaper that she rushed to with open shivering hands.
Yes. I’ll have to replace Mrs. Greer tonight.
Mrs. Greer lay asleep on the gray couch in the far back of the space. Ragged snores escaped her opened mouth. The television played a game show. The host screamed, “And now we have the final round. Are you ready to bet it all?”
The audience cheered.
I headed to Dayanara’s door. The knob turned with no problem. Anger boomed in my chest. I’d ordered Mrs. Greer to keep the door locked at all times. Dayanara could have fled with no problem if security and the locksmith weren’t here.
Maybe I’ll let Reece hire a temporary nurse. I can’t handle that and all the other things that have been thrown to the side today.
I opened the door. Shadows broke out and cast darkness everywhere.
“I’ll bet it all, Jim!” One of the contestants said.
“Are you sure?” the host asked.
“Yes! I bet it all!”
People clapped. A coppery scent filled the air. My heart raced as I slid my hand across the wall and searched for the light switch. No windows were in this room, so when the lights were off; only the black of night remained. The rough edges of concrete blocks scraped against my skin. Dayanara never allowed me to decorate her bedroom. In there, she only wanted the hard concrete bricks and cement cracks to look back at her.
“Okay. He’s going to bet it all.” Some upbeat jingle played and then the television went hushed for a few seconds. Where the hell is the light switch? I would have called out her name, but I didn’t want to wake her if she was asleep.
“You get three guesses to name this animal,” the game show host explained.
“I’m ready.”
“The suricata suricatta has been known to kill their mother’s, sister’s, and daughter’s offspring. Scientists have reported infanticidal raids from this species as well.”
“Jim, my first guess will be a mongoose.”
A beep came.
“The judges say you need to be clearer. This species is from the mongoose family.”
“Then it must be a meerkat, Jim.”
Horns blew. People roared with applause.
I found the light and flipped it on. The room illuminated with white light. Cold seeped into my skin until I was nothing but a block of ice. Dayanara sat on the floor in a pool of blood with a doll in her hands. Her long legs lay in the sticky substance. Red liquid slicked back her already crimson and gray strands. Sores dotted her forehead as if she’d tried to stab her eyes out. She blinked and swayed a little. A paint brush lay on the floor drenched in green paint and red liquid. She must’ve used the end of the brush on herself. I ran to her, wrenched the doll away, and checked her hands. A large hole in her wrist spit out warm blood.
“Mrs. Greer! Wake up and get a doctor. Now! Call nine-one-one.”
“Don’t.” Dayanara’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “Let me die.”
I tensed as the wound gurgled a tiny stream of blood onto my hands.
Would it be that simple? To let her die, right here? Maybe all the problems would be solved.