After a breakfast of scrambled eggs with a side of grits (minus the Mimosa), I helped Duke find a taxi to take him home; he was in no condition to drive. Then I headed over to Aunt Peg"s house; I wanted to check on Adam after his rough morning and bring my aunt up to speed.
My aunt opened the door before I could knock and ushered me in. She gave me a quick hug and whispered, "Hey Jamie."
I whispered back, "Why are we whispering?"
She pointed at the sofa where Adam was sleeping with Angus, the Scottish terrier, dozing on his chest, and Bono, the Irish setter, crashed out on the floor. I followed her into the kitchen where we could sit and chat.
"How"s he doing after this morning?" I asked.
She smiled. "Dr. Simon was so pleased with the progress they made. He thinks that, given time, Adam will be back to his old self. In fact, as we were driving home, Adam said, "Mom, I miss Spike."
"I"m so happy to hear that! And I have more good news for you--the state attorney doesn"t believe Adam had anything to do with Spike"s murder. He thinks it was Steve Michaels, the music teacher." I decided not to throw Marian into the mix.
"Oh, thank God! But, poor Rosa…I heard on the news she"d been killed, do they think that was Steve, too?"
"They do."
She shook her head sadly. "Jamie, she was the nicest woman, so kind and caring--what a tragedy!"
"It won"t bring her back, but I"m confident justice will prevail."
"I hope so," my aunt said.
As we were saying our good-byes, I thought of something. "The last time I was here, I forgot to look at Adam"s "music stuff" in his room. I feel bad, what did he want to show me?"
Aunt Peg thought for a second. "Oh, I know what it was! He wanted to show you the video recordings of him playing different instruments."
"Oh, he records himself?"
"No, Spike recorded all of their lessons."