CHAPTER TWELVE

Gabi and Wilson sat around the conference room table, sifting through stacks of papers that the team had printed for them. They would have never gotten through it all on the computers. The things that had to be in place for a nursing home or retirement home to open was mind-boggling. City, parish or county, state, and federal laws had to be met in order for any facility to open its doors.

Where these facilities might have had an angle is that they weren't billing themselves as nursing homes or care facilities. They were billing themselves as retirement resorts.

If they had billed themselves as a nursing home, doctors had to be board certified with the state of the residence, nurses the same, physical therapists, pharmacists, all of them. There had to be handicap codes met. Random inspections by the city, parish, county, or state at any given time had to be passed. Some of that had to be met for a resort as well. If they had all of those people involved or paid off, this was going to blow the roof off elderly care in multiple states.

"We need the names of everyone who works at these facilities," said Wilson. "If we have names, we can track marriages. Shouldn't the state or someone have a list of everyone employed?"

"They should," nodded Gabi, "but I doubt these assholes give a shit either way. But. And I stress this is a random but, these facilities all look well-maintained and have top-of-the-line amenities. I'm wondering if these guys didn't see this as a long-term option for themselves."

"I guess anything is possible. Maybe we need to look a bit further back," frowned Wilson. "If this is a scam with the retired cops, then they have to wait until they're of a certain age to live in one of these places. Maybe they pool their funds, deck these places out, get the residents in, and by that time, they have a few more guys retired."

"Wouldn't some of them be married?" asked Gabi.

"Gabi, I love you, hun, but the rest of the world doesn't have the same marriage success rate that we do here. Cops and military personnel are the worst. It's estimated that seventy-six percent of male officers have been divorced at least once, and the estimates for women are even higher."

"Are you kidding me?" she whispered.

"It's a hard life and tough-ass job. They spend a lot of time with their partners, they have a lot of free time, which leads to boredom, which leads to…"

"Looking for things, or people, to occupy their time," she frowned.

"Exactly. You know as well as I do, we see it in our patients all the time. When these folks lose their spouses after so long, they feel lost and scared. It's hard for them, I'm sure. For guys like these, they're still relatively young compared to the other residents. They've kept themselves in shape, they're not bad looking, and they've practiced the art of charming."

"It's all so twisted and fucked up," said Gabi. "Promise me that if something should happen to me before Zulu, you won't let him marry a bimbo." Wilson laughed, throwing his head back.

"Gabi, there could never be another woman to replace you with that man. He looks at you like I look at Sara. There's only one for each of us. I think maybe that's why all of this works."

"What about Skull? He had someone else. Jean was divorced. Marie and Claudette."

"Marie wasn't divorced. She was beaten nearly to death. The others, I see what you mean, but maybe Willa was the first part of his soul." He shrugged his shoulders as Gabi stared at him, her gaze always disarming. "I don't have the answers for things like this, Gabi. You'll need to check with Matthew and Irene, or it seems recently, it's been Claudette and Jake."

"Yeah, that's kind of scary, isn't it? Claudette sounds just like her mother, and Jake is sounding just like Matthew. Do you think they're doing that to them? I mean, are Matthew and Mama Irene making them seem more similar to them?"

"I'm not sure I want to know," laughed Wilson. He stared down at the stack of papers again, rubbing his eyes. "I think I've been looking at this for too long. Maybe we need to try a different tactic. What if this place needed a nurse or doctor?"

"We could try," nodded Gabi. She brought up their website and pulled up the available jobs site. She was surprised to see nothing listed.

"Doesn't that seem odd? These places usually have high turnover rates."

"Let me call them," she said, dialing the number.

"Good afternoon, Maison Soleil, the last home you'll ever need." She rolled her eyes and then plastered on a smile to help with her tone.

"Yes, I'm interested in coming to work for your facility. I'm a trained physician, licensed in the state, and looking for something a little slower."

"I'm sorry. We have no need for any doctors at this time."

"Okay, what about nurses? I have a friend in the same boat."

"I'm sorry. We are not hiring at this time." The woman abruptly hung up, and Gabi looked at Wilson.

"That seems more than a little odd," he frowned. He tapped on the wall, and Victoria walked over, smiling at him.

"Yes, sir." He could only chuckle.

"Victoria, would you run reports on electricians, plumbers, air-conditioning repair, all of it, and see how many times they've been called out to Maison Soleil since it opened?"

"Oh, I've already done that," she said, smiling.

"You did? Why?"

"Well, you guys were saying that it was all cops on the inside. Sometimes, cops have side hustles, you know, second jobs." Gabi and Wilson nodded. "A lot of them are skilled in things like plumbing, carpentry, roofing, that sort of thing. So, at first, I just looked for any calls or repairs made at the facility. Nothing. Not even a pizza delivery.

"Then I looked for any major repairs done that would have needed permits from the city or parish. Nothing. Either it's the most well-made facility in the state, or the cops working there are doing all the repairs and not calling in any strangers."

"You didn't happen to check on security cameras?" smirked Wilson.

"Of course I did," she smiled. "The facility has a multitude of cameras, inside and out. It's all monitored internally and does not send any signals to local law enforcement, fire, or any other agency. None. Not even if there is a catastrophic fire."

"Well, that's not suspicious at all, is it?" asked Gabi.

"One more thing," said Victoria. "Code and Hannah are on their way back from the cruise. Maureen died of food poisoning early this morning. Her body is being sent back on a medical chopper."

"And her grieving husband?" asked Wilson.

"He's already back at Maison Soleil."