Wicked She Was Born

Prologue

Three Oklahoma detectives are baffled as they try and solve the murder of 101-year-old Mrs. Blackburn, a resident at the Rockford Terrace Nursing Home. They are taken on more twists and turns than a tornado.

Mrs. Neely, the number one suspect, has a shady past that she tries to keep hidden. Yet, the nursing home staff themselves are nothing more but an assembly of unsavory characters, concealing secrets of their own. Of course, we can’t forget about Mr. Clark, owner of the nursing home, and Mrs. Fran Ferguson, his Administrator and not so honest adulterous partner.

As the detectives travel down dead end leads things begin to happen.

A piece of jewelry that was buried with the murder victim suddenly turns up. A murder attempt is made on Mrs. Neely so does that mean she is innocent? There is also the religious couple that will do anything to acquire a motorcycle.

Truths will be uncovered about relationships while the detectives find unexpected clues in an obscure little town located in the Arkansas Mountains and from there a surprised and unexpected ending may finally put this case to rest. But will it?

1

Murder at the Rockford Nursing Home?

It’s mine, now put it back where it belongs! Mrs. Neely shouted stubbornly, folding her long spindly arms across her thin flat chest. The tall, red haired nurse aide, Amanda, without explanation just shook her head in defeat as she replaced the chair quietly and left the room.

Standing in the hallway, just outside room 22 at the Rockford Terrace Nursing Home were Mrs. Ferguson, the newly appointed administrator, Mr. Clark, the owner and two police homicide detectives. Near by a body lay on a City Morgue gurney draped with a heavy black plastic cloth, straps secured across the chest and legs, and pushed up against the hallway wall almost as if forgotten.

The staff and numerous elderly patients crowded together at the opposite end of the dimly lit hallway. A sudden hush occurred as they tried their best to listen in on the conversation. Residents in wheelchairs insisted upon pushing in closer using their wheelchairs like battering rams to observe the activity better. Police officers milling around in this quiet residential facility was something, you normally just didn’t see here?

Shut the hell up! Walter, the black janitor, hissed still holding tightly onto his wet soapy mop. Just an hour earlier he had been busily mopping the dining room floor before breakfast, enjoying music through his iPod earphones. Suddenly, all this commotion busted loose. Not wanting to be observed that he was not working, he quickly ducked out of sight behind the crowd.

It was visibly clear that Mrs. Ferguson was upset about something, shaking uncontrollably as she spoke, leaning against the wall for support, wiping the corners of her eyes with the forefinger of one hand as she spoke to the officers. Mr. Clark wore a concerned frown; standing with his arms folded tightly across his barrel chest, and clearing his throat before speaking, a nervous habit he had acquired years ago.

Homicide Detective, Al Simpson was a tall strapping man over six feet tall. His face showing a few dents and creases from all of his 16 years on the force, combined with years of smoking and living on a coffee and fast food diet. Accompanying him was Homicide Detective, John Bryant, a short, potbellied, pale complexioned younger veteran of 15 years. Both had worked their way up through the ranks from patrol officer into the Homicide Division.

The two detectives stepped away from Mrs. Ferguson and Mr. Clark momentarily, as police department investigator Detective Carol Watts arrived on the scene. Called in by Detective Simpson to question the deceased’s roommate, Mrs. Mable Neely. Who had earlier demonstrated an aggravated resistance to any of the detective’s questions? Previously advised by Mrs. Ferguson, that Mrs. Neely could be difficult at times and didn’t have much respect for men, as both men had seen demonstrated with her curt, smart answers to their questions.

The detectives were informed that earlier the previous day Mrs. Neely had threatened Mr. Oliver a blind resident. Because he stood up putting his hands out in front of him feeling around in the air for his nurse aide, who had left him sitting far too long and alone in the community lounge. Mrs. Neely happened to pass him at that moment and began shouting in her loud voice. You damned old moss back bastard stop trying to feel me off! Poor Mr. Oliver quickly sat back down, completely stunned and frightened.

Mrs. Neely then went to great lengths to make it clear to the other residences and staff that she had it in for Mr. Oliver. The staff and residences at the nursing home enjoyed Mr. Oliver as a resident and respected his kindly manner to everyone, including Mrs. Neely. They knew her accusation weren’t at all true, she was known for stretching the truth.

There had been more than one incident where Mrs. Neely claimed Mr. Oliver had tried to force himself on her. Mrs. Neely cried and acted like the poor man had all but cornered her and attempted to rape her. Spreading the word of this during meals in the dining room and sharing it with any audience she could capture. Especially in the nursing home beauty shop during her weekly visits. Repeating it, especially for the benefit of any new resident or to gain the sympathy of the shop beautician, Holly, who would rush to Mrs. Neely and comfort her with her arms tightly wrapped around her.

Walter, the janitor was in the janitor’s closet again looking at dirty magazines that he kept hidden in a locked metal cabinet clearly marked with a bright black and yellow industrial sticker; Hazardous Materials-Keep Out. Every chance he got he would lock himself inside the cozy closet, blowing cigarette smoke out through a small lead pipe that led to the outside, undetected next to the continually blowing clothes dryer vents. Enjoying his peace and quiet while much of the staff searched relentlessly for him due to some maintenance problem, never finding him. He would just sit back and laugh to himself as they often knocked away at the janitor’s door. He pleasured himself often during his shift, while holding the men’s magazine staring at the page of Miss July who was his favorite.

Detective Bryant escorted Detective Watts to a large empty shower room directly across from room 22. The shower room was large with white shiny ceramic tile covering the walls and floor. A deep bathtub with a mechanical lift sat in the middle of the room. Wet, soiled towels on the floor were piled in one corner of the room; the smell of urine was strong. Feces smeared on the toilet seat. The room echoed when he spoke.

Sorry, this is the only private place close enough to the room where the murder took place. Detective Bryant explained, trying to keep from breathing in through his nose.

I’ve seen worse, what do we have going on here? Questioned Detective Watts, looking down suddenly noticing she was standing in urine colored puddle. Stepped back.

A 101 year old ambulatory frail female was found at approximately 4:47am this morning lying in her bed with a plastic trash liner tied over her head. The City Coroner has declared her death a homicide.

Who is the suspect? Are you thinking maybe one of the employees? Asked Detective Watts, making some notes in her black notepad, pausing to shake her cheap ink pen a few times.

That is the reason we called you in. We have a 98-year-old female roommate as our suspect. We didn’t get far questioning her, she isn’t cooperating, and we hoped maybe she would be more open with a female officer, answered Detective Bryant.

Why would you consider her a suspect? A 98-year-old premeditating such an act and thinking she would get away with it?" Said Detective Watts expressing an utter look of shock.

Just talk with her, she is innocent until we can prove without a shadow of a doubt that she is capable. The two were seen arguing as recently as yesterday, so its possible physical altercations took place more than once.

2

Remembering the Deceased

Nurse Starling sat at the east wing nurses station attempting to write notes within a stack of patient charts, busily trying her best to concentrate on her work. Her nursing staff was spending time clamoring around her desk, exchanging their viewpoint on the shocking event, while other places staff was talking on their cell phones. Many patients were wandering up and down the hall confused and scared. Hall lights were flashing. The few patients sitting in the half deserted dining room eating were in no hurry to get back to what were once their safe homey rooms.

Nurse Starling held the position as the 11p.m. to 7a.m. Charge Nurse since the facility opened 11years ago. She had seen staff change many times over the years. This type of work is notorious for big turnover. And of course, patients passed away, or moved to other facilities. You try your best not to get too attached to any one. However, Mr. and Mrs. Blackburn who had occupied room 22 for years was the dearest and sweetest old couple you could ever meet. Everyone enjoyed and adored their company and admired their devotion to each other. So sad when their time together ended suddenly, when Mr. Blackburn passed away.

Nurse Starling thought to herself, she was glad she had the opportunity to be on her shift and at his bedside the night he passed. Mrs. Blackburn was heartbroken for months. The staff tried everything to get her to leave her room, but she refused until she was ready. She just sat on her bed saying over and over again He’s my darling and nobody else’s.

Shortly after his passing, the nursing home Administrator, Mrs. Ferguson made the decision to place another patient Mrs. Neely into the now empty bed, thinking possibly the two ladies would be compatible, being so close to the same age. Mrs. Neely might even cheer Mrs. Blackburn up a bit?

Mrs. Frances (Fran) Ferguson had taken over the Administrator position from Registered Nurse Joyce Johnson who left mysteriously and suddenly. Mrs. Ferguson looked more like a retired model than an administrator. She was a small woman, every hair in place, which was dyed coal black, her makeup looked flawless as if sprayed on and she appeared to be in her late 40’s. She wore high heels every day; her clothes were expensive and very stylish. She didn’t look the type to have ever lifted a bedpan with those well-manicured hands. And she never shared any of her professional background with anyone.

Rumor circulating among the Staff, was Mrs. Ferguson, was Mr. Clark’s girlfriend? Shortly after he purchased the Nursing Home the previous Administrator was replaced with Mrs. Ferguson. All she appeared to do was sit in her office, or his, visiting with Mr. Clark all day. Occasionally, taking potential new clients on tours of the facility. Staff was suspicious about the real reason she was there, coming and going at all hours?

3

Hired Help

Kay’s cigarette dropped ashes onto the front of her well worn faded smock as she talked to Walter the janitor, all the while her cigarette dangling in the corner of her mouth. She worked in the nursing home laundry facility as the only laundry attendant.

I’m telling you that old bird killed Mrs. Blackburn, period, end of story. It doesn’t take a Rocket Scientist to figure that one out, laughing at her remark before breaking into a hacking cough. She leaned over to spit green mucus into a nearby trashcan and wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand.

Yeah, those detectives think that old Mrs. Neely is as pure as the fresh driven snow! She is plain mean and evil! I’ve heard her talking to some of these old folks around here like the devil. I’m not saying a word to those cops…no sir I don’t want to be pulled up into that damn mess. Walter looked around to see if any one might be listening.

Well, KOJACK! I think we got her solved; too bad the cops have to scratch their ass before solving the crime. Hell, I’ve seen enough murder stories on television to figure this one out. Flicking something into the air from under her long yellow stained fingernail.

Are you going to tell them you overheard Mrs. Neely threatening Mrs. Blackburn?

I am keeping my damn mouth shut if they call me in. Hell, who knows, they might call every last one of us in for a drug test. You and I couldn’t pass that for damn sure, he said digging into his metal toolbox pulling out a plastic baggie that contained weed.

I’m hiding my shit in the flower bed, if you’ve got anything on you, you had better get rid of it pretty damn fast! Stuffing the baggie into one of his coverall pockets.

Nope don’t do mine on the job. I like mine at home where I can relax and chill out. She smiled as she lit up another cigarette, fanning at the smoke with her thin claw like hand, ignoring the sign posted on the wall that read in big red letters NO SMOKING. I know what she what did. Kay mumbled to herself as she continued folding clothes.

4

Detective Watts Interrogates Mrs. Neely

Sticking her head inside the door after knocking