Free Cast into Doubt by Patricia MacDonald Page B

her a drink. Chloe handed him her card and gulped the drink down. He had no sooner swiped her card than she indicated that she wanted another. The bartender complied.
    ‘So, she had something to drink,’ said Shelby dismissively.
    ‘If you like, we can watch her drink two more of these,’ said Agent DeWitt with a hint of sarcasm.
    Shelby felt her face redden.
    ‘Now,’ said Chief Giroux, aiming a remote at the keyboard. Another image arose, this one of tables with many people seated, talking and consulting the cards in front of them. It was easy to spot Chloe. She sat stiffly at a table near the back of the room, a numbered card on the table in front of her. The camera that caught her was also positioned near the back of the room, so Shelby was able to have a clear view of her daughter. She was a few seats down from the other people. A woman leaned over to talk to her, and Shelby recognized Virgie and Don, the fiftieth anniversary couple who had talked to her in the hallway yesterday. They were clearly trying to engage Chloe in conversation. Shelby watched as Chloe replied, gesturing vaguely.
    The other couple Shelby had met, Bud and Peggy, joined the table, and Peggy leaned her metal cane against it. The conversation continued. Chloe’s eyelids drooped and, while she was talking, she made an expansive gesture that knocked the cane over and it clattered to the floor. Chloe looked chagrined, and got unsteadily to her feet. She bent over to try to retrieve the cane, but couldn’t seem to grasp it. The lame woman’s husband came around and picked it up. Chloe clearly was apologizing but he shook his head as if to say it didn’t matter. This time, he placed the cane far out of Chloe’s reach.
    The bingo game proceeded and all were marking their cards except Chloe, who was staring into her drink, and occasionally making some comments to no one in particular. Her head would begin to nod, and then she would force herself awake, like a sleepy driver at the wheel of a car. Finally, she could resist her condition no more. Her eyes closed, and her head hit the table, her arms splayed out across the table, sending bingo cards skidding across the table’s surface, and markers fluttering to the floor. Her cheek was mashed against the tabletop. Her eyes were closed. People from the other tables turned to stare. The people at Chloe’s table looked at her, and then at one another worriedly. The old woman began to shake Chloe’s shoulder and speak directly into her ear. Chloe shook her head but did not lift it from the table.
    Shelby averted her gaze from the screen. ‘Enough,’ said Shelby.
    The chief turned it off. ‘We have a lot more footage,’ said the chief with a sigh. ‘We have footage of her being helped to her room, these people carrying her shoes and pocketbook, and she cannot even stand up. Of course there is no footage from inside the cabins – that’s private space – but we can surmise that after these nice people left her alone in the room . . .’
    ‘All right,’ Shelby cried. ‘All right.’
    Rob sat, stone-faced, staring at the blank screen.
    The chief and Agent DeWitt exchanged a glance.
    ‘What now?’ Shelby whispered.
    ‘You go back home and remember her in happier times,’ Giroux advised.
    ‘I can’t,’ Shelby wailed.
    Shelby wanted to cling to her chair, to refuse to move like a stubborn child, but when she looked at her son-in-law’s face she knew that he had given up the fight. He had accepted it; his wife had fallen overboard in a drunken accident.
    ‘I wish there was more we could do,’ said Chief Giroux.
    ‘I understand,’ said Rob. He shook hands with him. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Thank you for everything. Thank you for trying.’
    Chief Giroux nodded gravely. Shelby got up from her chair. She felt too disoriented and outraged to offer the police chief her hand. But, at the last moment, as Rob urged her toward the door, she turned to the chief and Agent DeWitt. ‘Yes,’