Previously:

With Hattie being alone and her daughters living out of state, the older daughter placed her in a home for the elderly. Unfortunately, she finds herself even more lonely surrounded by people. 

New Chapter:

Hattie was heading to an empty corner table with her tray of meatloaf and corn hash when she saw a plump woman waving her over. She had to do a double-take, just to make sure the woman wasn’t signaling to someone else. Interesting.

Hattie made her way over to the table and took a seat. The woman, who wore a purple dress and purple rimmed glasses, stuck her hand out. “I’m Nelly. Everyone here calls me Nel.”

“Hattie. Pleased to meet you.” She took Nelly’s hand and shook it, noticing the woman’s curly hair bore a purple tint, as opposed to the more common blue hue of her Berkshire counterparts. 

“I’ve been watching you. You always get the meatloaf.” Nelly smiled. “Well, not on Mexican Mondays or Fish Fry Fridays, but every other time.”

“You’ve been watching me?” Hattie wasn’t sure she liked that at all.

“Yes, and I can see that you’re a smart one. I want to ask you something.” Nelly leaned in and lowered her voice. “Do you know anything about Mr. Howell?”

“The rich man from Gilligan's Island?” Hattie scratched her head. 

Joy giggled. “No, same name, but different man. A resident.”

“Howell? Never heard of him.”

“Well, let me fill you in. He lived up on the fourth floor.” Nelly nodded her head knowingly, as if the mere mention of the fourth floor would bring a wave of comprehension to Hattie. It didn’t.

Hattie noticed the use of past-tense as in ‘lived’ but her curiosity led her down a different path. “What exactly is the fourth floor used for?”

“Seriously, nobody told you?” Nelly seemed happy to have some unknown information. “It’s where they keep the bed-ridden, very sick, very old, and those with dementia.”

“So, what issue did this ‘Mr. Howell' have?”

“How about none of the above. All I know is Edward Howell started complaining about the poor quality of the food and the next thing we knew they moved him to the fourth floor.“

“That is odd.” Hattie’s interest was genuinely piqued. I love a good mystery.

“For sure. What’s more odd is that within a week, poor complaining Mr. Howell was dead.”

“No.” Hattie gasped, swirling her last bite of meatloaf around in her gravy. Nelly didn’t answer. When Hattie looked up, the woman’s eyes were closed.

“Nel?” Hattie was confused. The previously animated lady responded with a slight snore. What the heck?

“Don’t worry about ol’ Nelly. She suffers from narcolepsy. She can literally fall asleep anywhere at any time.” The new woman who sat down was a bouncy redhead. Obviously dyed.

“Seriously?” Hattie stared at the now snoring woman, who now had a trail of gravy running down her chin. A small noise to their left disturbed Hattie.

“As serious as a heart attack.” The woman snapped her fingers in front of Nelly’s face with no effect. “I’m Joy by the way.”

“I’m Hattie.” She couldn’t help but notice that the ginger was extremely bubbly and could hardly sit still.

“So, was Nel telling you about the odd happenings on the nefarious fourth floor?” Now Joy’s jolly voice lowered. Perhaps that is how the residents of Berkshire discussed the uppermost level.

“Yes, until she fell asleep. We were discussing Mr. Howell and his untimely demise.”

Joy looked about, as if to ensure that they were alone, even though they were in a room full of people. “It’s all true. I was in the lobby when they brought the poor dead man off the elevator and wheeled him out. He was covered in a white sheet. Very creepy.”

“When did this happen?”

Joy smiled at Hattie’s genuine interest. “Last month. August 12th. It was hot that night. I remember it well because the air conditioning was on the fritz.”

Another noise, sounding like someone was blowing raspberries, caused Hattie to turn around and look behind her at a black-haired lady. She wore her hairdo long and looked to be a decade younger than Hattie. “What—-“

“Oh, that’s just Wendy. She’s quite gassy. She lets ‘Polly out the back door’ continuously.”

“Windy” Hattie smiled at the quick pick-up on her name. Windy Wendy.

“What?” Joy cocked her head with a curious look.

“It’s just something I do. Wendy . . . Windy. Get it?”

“Oh my gosh, you’re too funny.” Joy giggled. “So what about Mr. Howell?”

Hattie sat and thought for a bit. Suspicious death? Mystery? A slight smile spread across her face. Perfect. This is right up my alley. “I have a contact in the police department. I think I’ll make some inquiries.”

“Oh goodie!” Joy loudly clapped her hands in excitement.

“Shhh!” Hattie frowned. “A situation like this calls for discretion. We must proceed with great caution.”

Joy put her finger to her lips. “Yes, of course. Discretion. What’s our next step, Hattie?”

“Well, how about you give me two days? Then come to my room after lights out for a meeting. Make sure you keep quiet. This will be our little secret for now.” Hattie grasped Joy’s hand. “Can I trust you to stay quiet?”

“Of course.” Joy gulped, nearly bursting with excitement at the prospect of an adventure. “We’re going to solve this caper.”

“Maybe. But first, we need to determine if we have a caper.”

“Okay.” Joy excitedly rose to leave with her food tray.

“What about Nel?” Hattie didn’t think they should leave the woman snoozing in the dining room.

“Oh, the aides will bring a wheelchair and take her to her room. She’ll be fine. By the way, I saw that creepy Italian Howard checking you out. I would steer clear of him if I were you.”

“I plan to.” Hattie nodded.

“He fadoodled me my first week here.” Joy shrugged. “It had been awhile, so I gave him a go. Trust me when I say that you ain’t missing nothing.”

It had been eight years for Hattie since she had intimate relations, but she couldn’t imagine being that desperate. Ever.

Later that night, Hattie went over the entire talk she had with Narcoleptic Nelly and Jubilee Joy, the names she had dubbed her new friends with. She liked the two women. They were . . . different. Hattie had remained calm and collected with Joy, but her excitement was building. A mystery?

She was so excited that she was having trouble sleeping. Well, that and Moaning Lisa was shaking the walls with banshee-like wails that would make a ghost blush. Apparently, her neighbor wasn’t missing 'anything' either. How does a guy Jerk Beefy's age get it up so often?