Bad Fall - Romantic Suspense by Dellani Oakes

Part 2

 Frank Atherton has had a rather annoying encounter with the son of one of the residents. Ralph Penwarren is a nasty man who doesn't mind making everyone around him miserable. While eating dinner, he catches a short show on the in-house network with the new psychologist on staff.

"After losing my grandmother to Alzheimer's, I made it my goal to find out everything I could about this dreadful disease. I've studied Alzheimer's for four years. I don't know everything, but I've got some innovative ideas. I'll be working with different groups here at Sheltering Oaks, trying my techniques. If you'd like to volunteer to be in one of my groups, or want to join up just for fun or information, please contact me."

She rattled off her name and phone number. It also appeared in huge letters at the bottom of the screen. When she was done, she smiled until the camera faded. The name and number remained on the screen.

Frank stared at the screen until one of the facility infomercials started up. Clicking the remote, he found a cop show he liked and left it on while he ate the remainder of his meal.

Even with the drama unfolding before him, he couldn't keep his mind off the young woman he'd seen. He'd never been so taken with a woman in his life. She was pretty, vivacious, intelligent, witty and had a voice that sent shivers up his spine. He remembered her name, saying it aloud, liking the feel of it on his tongue.

"Marka Ventimiglia." Not pronounced exactly like it was spelled, he noticed, practicing. "Ven ti MI lee ya," he said slowly, experimentally.

Someone knocked at his door. Thinking it might be someone about Mr. Penwarren, he groaned quietly as he stood up.

"Be right there!" He called. He dropped his plate in the kitchen sink and went to the door. "What's he done now?" He asked automatically as he opened it.

It wasn't Sue or one of the other staff members. An attractive brunette stood there.

"I'm sorry? Who did what?"

"Oh, no one you'd know. Frank Atherton. I just saw you on TV." He held out his hand.

She smiled. "Marka Ventimiglia. Nice to meet you. I feel really stupid asking, but yours is the only room with a light on. I took a chance that someone was up."

He invited her in. She hesitated a moment, then followed him inside.

"What can I do for you?"

"I'm embarrassed to ask. I'm staying in a guest room and I'm out of toilet paper."

"Really? No spare?" He was puzzled by that. "The girls usually put it under the sink."

He walked to his restroom. It was quite spacious, with a tub and a separate, walk-in shower. He opened the sink and didn't find a spare paper under there. Checking all the cupboards, he came up empty.

"That's weird. Gimme a second." He dialed the front desk. "Sue, it's Frank."

"Hi, Frank. All's quiet at the moment. Whatcha need?"

"Dr. Ventimiglia is with me and she hasn't got a spare roll of toilet paper. Neither do I."

"Oh, gosh. You want me to run some up there?"

"No, you don't need to. Is Kathy around?"

"She should be. Shall I call her?"

"No, I will. Thanks." He hung up and dialed the housekeeping office.

No one answered. Puzzled, he hung up and dialed again. Still no answer.

"I'll try later," he told his guest. "Do you need some immediately?"