"What field?"

Elementary ed. My dad says you shouldn't job-hop because it looks really bad on your resume'. Like you're shiftless or something, which I've never been."

"Well yeah, but on the other hand, if you're interested in teaching, there's no point hanging on to a job that doesn't suit."

"That's what I said. Besides, Mrs. S. is real moody and gets on my nerves. One day she's sweet, like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, and then she turns around and acts all crabby. I mean, what is her problem?"

"What's your guess?"

"Beats me. They're still looking for someone to fill the position, which gritches her but good. She thinks she should be promoted instead of just being used is how she put it."

"If she did get promoted, who would she replace?"

"Mrs. Delacorte. She's the one who got canned." I kept my expression neutral. Not only was she bored, but she hadn't learned the basic rules, the most compelling of which is never, never, never confide company secrets in the likes of me. I said, "Golly, that's too bad. Why was she fired, has anybody said?" My lies and fake behavior are usually heralded by "Gollys" and "Gees."

"She wasn't fired exactly. It's more like she was laid off."

"Oh, right. And when was that?"

"The same time as Mrs. Bart. She's the bookkeeper since way back when. They were interviewing for her position the same time I applied for this one."

"How come?"

"How come what?"

"I wonder how the bookkeeper and the administrator got laid off at the same time. Was that coincidence?"

"Not at all," she said. "Mrs. Bart was let go and Mrs. Delacorte got upset and raised a stink. Mr. Harrington suggested she might be happier finding work somewhere else, so that's what she did. This is all stuff I heard." She stopped what she was saying and her eyes seemed to widen behind the red plastic frames. "You're not taking notes. I'm not supposed to gossip. Mrs. S. is hell on that."

I held up my hands. "I'm just making conversation 'til the rain lets up."

She patted her chest. "Whew! For a minute, I got nervous. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong impression. I mean, it's like I told her, I'd never blab anybody's private business. It's not in my nature."

"You and me both," I said. "So who's Mr. Harrington? I never heard of him."

"He works for the billing company in Santa Maria."

"And he's the one who hired you?"

"Kind of. He interviewed me by phone, but only after Mrs. S. had already approved my application. That's the way it works around here. Make the guys think they're in charge when we're really the ones who do everything."

"I thought Dr. Purcell did all the hiring and firing."

"I don't know anything about that. I was here less than two weeks when he, you know, ran off or whatever. I think that's why Mr. Harrington was forced to step in."

"Where's Mrs. Delacorte work now? Has anybody said?"

"She's over at St. Terry's. I know because last week she stopped by to visit with Mrs. S. Turns out she found a great job so it's worked out fine. Getting laid off can be a blessing, though it didn't seem like it at the time is what she says."

"What about Mrs. Bart?"

"I don't know where she went."

"Did you know Dr. Purcell?"

"I knew who he was, but that's about it. That's his office in there. He just like, you know, vanished. It really gives me the creeps."

"Weird. I wonder what went on."

"No telling. The whole staff's upset. All the residents adored him. He made sure everybody got a card on their birthday and stuff like that. He paid out of his own pocket just so all these pitiful old people would feel special."

Has anyone made a guess about what happened to him?"

"It's all they talked about at first. I mean, not me so much because I hardly knew him."

"What kind of thing…"

I could see Merry wrestle with her conscience, deliberating a good seven seconds before She-Who-Never-Blabs leaned toward me. "Promise you won't repeat this…"

"I won't even say it once."

She lowered her voice. "Mrs. S. thinks he left the country."

I lowered my voice, too. "Because of…"

"Medicare."

"Oh, that's right. Someone mentioned that before, but I didn't have a chance to ask. Meaning what?"

She said, "F-R-A-U-D. Last winter, the OIG-"

"OIG?"

"Oh, that's the Office of Inspector General. They're part of the Department of Health and Human Services. Anyway, OIG faxed us this list of charts and billing records they wanted to see. Mrs. S. said at first Dr. Purcell didn't think anything of it. They do that sometimes just to keep you on your toes. But then they came back and he figured out how serious it was. He kept going over the information to see how it'd look to them. Not good. Up to his lower lip in poop, to coin her phrase."

"Is that why he'd been working late the last couple of months?"

"Well, yeah."

"So the place is under investigation?"

"Big time. It started as a desk audit. They wanted a bunch of stuff covering the past two years. That's when Dr. P. came in as the medical director. I mean, he's that and administrator with a hyphen in between. The way Mrs. S. tells it, if Pacific Meadows loses its funding, the place'll be shut down. Not to mention all the penalties-you know, fines and restitution. She says maybe even jail time, plus the public embarrassment. The Purcells are like this big-time la-di-dah social couple so you can imagine the disgrace. Dr. P. was the one lined up to take the brunt of it. Like his butt's in a sling. Those are her words, not mine."

"What about his employers?"

"Oh, the other two don't have anything to do with the hands-on stuff. They're all over the state, taking care of other business."

"Well, that sounds scary for Dr. Purcell," I said.

"I'd've died if it'd been me."

"I'll bet," I said. "When did this first come up?"

"I think last January, way before my time. Then in March, these two guys from MFCU swooped in unannounced-that's the Medicaid Fraud Control Unit. They came loaded with questions and a list of all the charts they wanted pulled. Everybody scrambled around, practically wetting their pants. Dr. P. was notified of this big list of violations and a lot of questionable claims, meaning P-H-0-N-Y. We're talking thousands of dollars. Half a million at least and that's just scratching the surface. He could turn out to be a major big-time crook."

"I'm surprised it didn't hit the papers."

"Mrs. S. says they'll keep a lid on it 'til they see what they've got. Meantime, they're breathing down his neck and they mean business."

"So she thinks he bolted to avoid punishment?"

"Well, I sure would if I was in his place."

"How do you know it was him? Other people must've had access to billing records. Maybe that's why the bookkeeper was laid off," I said. She leaned forward and lowered her gaze. "You won't mention this, you swear? Cross your heart."

I crossed my heart and held up my hand.

"Mrs. Dorner-she's director of Staff Development? She thinks Dr. P. could've been kidnapped. Snatched in the parking lot to keep him quiet."

I said, "Wow," and made a skeptical face. "Unfortunately, the cops say there's no real evidence of that."

"It wouldn't take much. Slap tape on his mouth, throw him in the trunk, and take off," she said. "They could have used his own car, which is why it hasn't been found."

I saw Merry's look as she began to busy herself, fussing with the mail "That's a very good point."

I glanced over my shoulder. A nurse in a white uniform was standing in the doorway. She had fixed us with a look that was both shrewd and intimidating. I cleared my throat and said, "Well. Merry. I better scoot and let you get back to work. I'll stop back on Monday and chat with Mrs. Stegler."

"I'll tell her you were here."