“So they ran into hard times?”
“The year after we left, the Chiltons had to sell their home. It was a big estate, but old, outside of Boston. Before we left, I remember overhearing Mr. Chilton a couple of times talk about bankruptcy. My older sister was in college by then. My younger sister and me and our parents moved to an apartment in another part of Massachusetts. My parents got other jobs. I did some local modeling gigs and worked as a waitress until I went off to college for a year.”
“Surprised your parents could afford that.”
“They couldn’t. The Chiltons had started college funds for us. I burned through one year and then decided it wasn’t for me, and I didn’t like wasting money.”
“Christian said his dad died.”
“In a car accident two years ago. His mother lives in Boston, or she did. I haven’t seen her for several years.”
“How old is Christian? I had him pegged at thirty.”
“No, he’s only three years older than me. He was at Princeton when the family money totally ran out. But he had a full lacrosse scholarship. He’s very smart. He has two younger brothers. They’re on the West Coast and doing their own thing. But Christian stayed on the East Coast.”
“And now he’s running Mayflower and living in a big brownstone owned by the Locust Group, who paid a lot more for it than it’s worth, and he’s hanging out with guys on Interpol watch lists. And apparently making a lot of money after the family lost almost everything around six years ago.”
“It doesn’t look good, I know.”
“Not good at all.”
“There he is,” hissed Montgomery.
Chilton had walked out of the brownstone. He got into his BMW and drove off.
Devine and Montgomery pulled into traffic behind him.
Let’s see where you’re going, thought Devine.
It didn’t take long. The BMW turned into a posh assisted living center. It was located in an old brick building that took up half the block.
They waited for Chilton to go inside and then followed.
The place looked like an upscale hotel. As Devine glanced around, he saw elderly residents in wheelchairs and walkers. Some were reading in what looked to be the library; others were watching TV. Still others were just sitting and gazing off or slowly walking around.
Montgomery caught sight of Chilton walking down a hall and grabbed Devine’s arm to alert him, before Chilton disappeared around the corner.
“What do you think is going on?” he asked her. “Why is he here?”
“I think Poppy might be here.”
“So, what do we do?”
“Act like we belong here. I’ve actually been doing that my whole life,” she added with a weak smile tacked on.
They walked down the hall, passing by staff members. One stopped and asked if they needed help.
Montgomery said, “I was supposed to meet Christian Chilton here.”
“Oh, yes, he just came in. He’s with his grandfather.”
“That’s right. He said that Poppy was here now. I haven’t seen him in some time. Is he doing okay?”
The woman smiled sadly. “It’s not easy getting old. And Mr. Chilton is over eighty. He used to be in the assisted living part of this facility. But now he’s in our memory unit.”
“Oh, you mean . . . ?” said Montgomery.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. Would you like me to take you to them?”
“You know, I think we’ll just catch up with Christian when he’s done, if that’s okay. I didn’t know Poppy was . . . I’ll just let them have their visit.”
“All right, you can wait in the lobby.”
“Thanks again.”
Montgomery turned to Devine, her eyes teary. “God, I didn’t know that about Poppy. I just remember this wonderful old man who liked to play games with us.”
Thirty minutes later Christian Chilton appeared in the lobby. Devine noted he was wiping at his eyes.
When he saw Devine and Montgomery, he jerked back. “What are you doing here?”
“How’s Poppy?” asked Montgomery.
Chilton looked flustered. “He’s . . . he’s got Alzheimer’s.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that, Christian? I live here. I could have come and visited him.”
“He wouldn’t remember you. He doesn’t remember me.” He glanced at Devine. “And what are you doing here with her?”
“We’re friends, Christian, like you and me,” answered Montgomery.