“Let’s go,” he said and gave the driver an address.

“How did you find her?” Ted asked.

“You’d have got there,” Lester answered. “I got the management company info off the tax rolls. I called them up.”

“And they just gave you her address?”

“Not exactly. I told the girl on the phone that I was delivering a birthday cake from the tenants’ association.” He held up the box. “She was very nice. Gave up the address right away.”

“That’s it?”

“I can be very persuasive.”

It was not how Ted would have handled the situation, but as the frontal assault on Jackie Clavette had been a total failure, he had to admire Lester’s approach. “Nice work, and if anyone ever asks me, I never heard that story.”

And for the briefest moment, he thought again that finding this resourceful assistant had been much too easy.

-16-

-16-

The next hurricane to hit Seaside was going to sweep the Imperiale out to sea. If you placed your aged loved ones in that assisted-living facility, you were secretly hoping for a good-sized storm surge.

Lester led the way. He signed the register at the front desk and announced, “We are here to see Barbara Miller. This is her grandnephew Eberhard Wilmot from San Diego. He has recently arrived in town and discovered that she is a resident here.”

The receptionist was a college-aged girl with Korean features and slightly protruding eyes. She took in Lester’s rumpled suit and stained tie. “And you are?”

“Mr. Wilmot’s factotum. We would like to see her immediately. Mr. Wilmot is concerned that she is not being treated as a lady of her means and station deserves.”

Ted couldn’t remember ever hearing anyone using the word “factotum” in conversation before. Apparently, neither could the receptionist, who seemed to be impressed with Lester’s performance. She tapped at her computer.

“Miss Miller is listed as having no known relatives,” she said.

“Well, that is an obvious mistake,” Lester said. He had center stage and all the best lines. “Her nephew is standing right here.”

That seemed to satisfy what little curiosity the girl could summon. “She’s playing bingo. Down that hallway, the game room is on your left.”

Surprised at this easy victory and relieved that he had not been asked to provide ID for Eberhard Wilmot, Ted hustled down the hall. “How am I supposed to remember an alias like Everhard Pillpot?”

“That’s the point,” Lester said. “No one will remember.”

“What were you going to do if she didn’t buy it?” Ted asked.

“Improvise.” Lester’s face was a mask of inscrutability.

“You’re scaring me, Lester.”

“Who breaks into nursing homes? Through the front door? Somebody shows up to visit at a place like this, the staff will lay out a path of rose petals for them.” He made a show of examining their surroundings. “Nice digs.”