"He told me that she left him two weeks ago and went to Waterloo to find a job."
"He's a liar. She had to get a job, but only because he made her. For a while, he didn't care what she did, but Jessie told me that he's been getting really weird lately. He's all pushy and possessive. I think she was starting to get a little scared of him. She said he does crack and then he wants her to do it too. I made her promise not to, but I don't know. He always telling her what to do. She goes to the library to get on the Internet when he works late. I don't know if his schedule changed or what, but she hasn't been on since last Thursday."
"So, she's still living with him?"
"I think so."
"Do you believe she's in danger?"
"Maybe ..." the girl's voice trailed off. That didn't give Polly a lot of confidence.
Polly hoped that her phone call last weekend hadn't gotten the poor girl into trouble with this jerk. "I need to ask some more questions around here, Maggie. I'll do what I can. Keep an eye out for her. Maybe his schedule did change and she'll find a way to get to you. Let me know as soon as you hear something."
"You have my number now, will you call me?"
"I will call you as soon as I can."
"Thank you."
Polly pulled into the parking lot at the hospital. "Keep in touch, Maggie."
She went inside, asked for Curtis Locke, and followed the volunteer's directions to his room. He was sitting up and watching television when she knocked on the door.
"Hello, Miss Giller," he said.
"Hi. And it's Polly. I mean it. May I come in?"
He nodded to the chair beside his bed and she sat down.
"It's nice to see you. I want to thank you for everything you've done for my family. Especially since I know you've been busy after the tornado. You've been very kind to all of us."
"I'm glad to help." She bit her lip and continued. "Mr. Locke, I need to ask a couple of questions about your wife's relationship with Jessie."
He dropped his head back on the pillow and let out a sigh. "Those two are like oil and water. It's my fault. I should have been there more to make it easy on Kelly. She raised those kids without me. Jessie could never find it in her to just do what her mother wanted. She's run away before, but we were always able to bring her home. This feels a little more permanent. I just hate the thought of never seeing her again."
"I've been in contact with her friend, Maggie."
His eyes lit up. "You have? Has she been helpful?"
"I reached out to her last night and she's been chatting with your daughter on a pretty regular basis, but lost contact with her last week. I think Jessie is still with that boy and there might be some trouble."
He rose up and his eyes flashed. "He'd best not hurt my girl."
Polly was certain he would set off alarms on all of the machinery he was hooked up to and nurses would rush into the room at any minute. "No. You can't do anything from here. I'm not giving up, though."
He didn't relax. "Just tell me where he lives. I don't need to be in this room any longer. I'll check myself out."
She put her hand on his, attempting to avoid the IV needle. "Really. There's nothing you can do until we find out more information. I guess, though, I need to know what you expect from Jessie. If I find her, what do I tell her?"
He sat back, confused. "What do you mean? Tell her that her mother and I want her to come home."
"What if she doesn't want to come home? She's an adult and living in her mother's home might not be what she wants."
"I don't care what she wants." His voice began to rise and then it was as if he heard himself. "I do care what she wants," he said, a little more evenly. "But she's still my little girl and I don't think she's ready to be living on her own."
"She seems to be making very adult decisions right now, even if they're wrong. I think she's asking you to treat her like an adult," Polly said. "I know it was hard for Dad to let me decide to stay in Boston after I was done with college, but when I told him what I wanted to do, he supported me."
"But you talked to him about it before you went off and did it."
"You're right. I did. I don't think Jessie's making good decisions and she needs your help with that."
He looked at Polly, his eyes sad and tired. "I haven't helped her very much. Even when she was fighting with her mother, it was easier just to let them duke it out. I wasn't around enough to feel like I was part of things and they didn't make it easy for me to come home and be part of their lives. But, that's on me. Spending all that time on the road is a hard life for a family."
"Are you going back to Colorado when they release you tomorrow?" Polly asked.
He put a hand on his forehead and shut his eyes. "Damn it, I can't believe I had a heart attack. It just makes this all so much harder to handle. Kelly isn't going to let me stay out here. We haven't even talked about how I'm going to get my car back home. This is all such a mess. She has to be at work on Monday." He took a couple of deep breaths. "I've really screwed this whole thing up."
"You have to quit taking the blame for things that happened around you, Mr. Locke. Sometimes things just get out of control."
"I don't want to leave you with this."
Polly smiled. "My husband thinks my main purpose in life is as a rescuer. I've rescued horses, donkeys, cats and sometimes I help people. I certainly don't mind doing what I can."
"Do you believe this man she's with is dangerous?"
"I don't know that, but I can assure you that if it feels like he is, I won't do anything stupid. I have too many friends in law enforcement that would make my life miserable if I got myself or anyone else in trouble."
"Then if I have to leave tomorrow with my wife, will you stay in touch with me? I don't have much money, but will do what I can to bring her home." He looked up at her. "If I leave my car with you, Jessie could drive it back home."
"You can certainly leave your car at Sycamore House. I will stay in contact, but as long as Jessie is safe, I can't make her go anywhere."
"I know that. Just have her call me. She doesn't have to call her mother. I understand that they don't like each other very much right now, but I want to talk to my baby girl." He looked as if he were going to cry. Polly wasn't sure if that was a result of what his body had been through this last week or his emotional state.
"Take care of yourself, Mr. Locke, and I'll do what I can to find your daughter." She stood to leave.
"Thank you, Polly. Your father would be proud of you."
She smiled at him and walked out into the hallway, stopping at the nurse's chair to take a breath. She'd done it again. Walked into a situation that had nothing to do with her and made promises to help someone who might not even want any help. At least Henry wasn't here to watch her do it. A flashing clock on the computer's screen saver told her there was plenty of time to stop in and see Anita at the sheriff's office.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Turning west on Mamie Eisenhower Avenue in Boone, Polly stretched her shoulders and scowled down at her ringing phone. "I'm busy," she said. It rang again. She certainly wasn't expecting a call from Sylvie. For these last couple of days, some big shot chef and his team were on campus and Sylvie had jumped at the chance to work beside him.
"Hi, Sylvie, is everything okay?" Polly asked.
"No it's not." Sylvie sounded annoyed. "Andrew hurt himself at camp and they've taken him to Methodist in Des Moines. I'm on my way there."
"What happened?"
"I don't know for sure, but I think he broke his arm."
"Oh no! Tell me what I can do to help. I'm in Boone right now and can be there in maybe forty-five minutes."
Sylvie exhaled a distinct sigh of relief. "I feel like such a terrible mom," she said, "But if he isn't in awful shape and it really is just a break, would you mind taking him back home?"
"Of course I don't mind. Are you okay with things at school?"
"They're taking a break and all I have to do is call
and let them know what I'm doing. I really hate to miss the end of the whole thing, but I will if necessary."
Polly turned a corner to make her way back out to Story Street and head south. "You know I'll help you."
"You're a life saver," Sylvie said. "Oh Polly, I feel like a fool. I should have just told them I wouldn't be back."
"That makes no sense. You know as well as I do that Andrew is going to be proud of this cast. He doesn't need you to babysit him. You don't know what he did?"
Sylvie chuckled, "I don't know yet, but I'm sure there will be some huge story around it and he'll find a way to make it more exciting than it really was."
"You're probably right. Okay, I'll find you when I get there."
"Thanks, Polly."
This had been the craziest week. She was absolutely certain that it wasn't so long ago she'd been living a perfectly routine, everyday, humdrum life. There weren't any dead bodies or lost daughters, no tornadoes or adoptions. Everyone was living their life just like they did every day. Lydia was busy with her grandkids and other activities while Beryl cursed at her agents, clients, and galleries and spent long hours in her studio trying to finish several commissions.
It seemed to Polly like months could pass with nothing abnormal happening and then out of the blue, her world exploded and complete craziness ensued. She gave a slight giggle and looked up to the sky. "Was it just time for me to get out of my comfort zone again? You couldn't wait a year or longer before tossing my world into the blender?"
The clock on her dash informed her that there wasn't enough time to get to Des Moines and back before lunch. Poor Henry. She was a terrible wife, but she had to call and tell him that she was too busy for him.
"Hey puddin' pop." he answered.
"Yeah, that's not it either," she said, laughing. Since Polly banned the term of endearment Henry had given her because of its abuse by a crazy woman, he'd been looking for a new one. He wasn't about to be satisfied with something as simple as 'honey' or 'sweetheart.' Henry wanted it to be unique. They were mostly awful.
"I'll keep trying. So what are you bringing me for lunch?"
"Well, I was going to go to the Methodist church. Lydia told me it was a box lunch."
"That would be perfect. I know for a fact they're serving homemade ice cream, too. But it sounds like that idea is past tense."
"I'm a terrible wife, but I'm on my way to Methodist Hospital in Des Moines."
"Are you okay? What happened? And why are you terrible?"
"I'm fine. Sorry." Polly giggled. She knew exactly what she'd said and how she'd said it.
"Then what?"
"I'm meeting Sylvie. Andrew broke his arm at camp and I'm going to bring him back to Bellingwood for her."
"Oh, that poor kid. Friday night is the best night at summer camp."
"Yeah. I remember. But, there it is. Sylvie doesn't want to miss out on the end of this seminar with the fancy chef and it's no big deal for me to get down there, except that I can't feed you now. Bad wife."
Henry laughed. "I'll let you off the hook with this one. Don't worry about it. Now that I know the Methodist ladies are serving lunch and ice cream, we'll all take a break and head over. I wouldn't miss that for the world."
"That's not fair," she said with a pout. "I have to miss it."
"Stinks to be you."
"Thanks."
"Have you heard anything from Joss and Nate yet?"
"Not a word. I hope this works out for them. I think Nate's going to explode if they don't get this baby soon."
"Okay. Well ... "
"I know, I know. You have to get back to work. Enjoy your lunch."
"I love you ... ummm ... Polly baby."
"Yeah. That's not it either. And I love you too."
She turned the radio on after they hung up and let it distract her during the rest of the drive. She hadn't been to the hospital since last summer when Beryl's water heater had exploded and hoped she could remember the way. Her memory, with a little help from signs along the way, took her to the Emergency Room entrance, where she parked her truck and went inside.
Polly was a little surprised to see Rebecca there with a young man wearing a camp t-shirt. He didn't look like he was even out of high school, but she thought that might have something to do with the fact that she was getting older and everyone looked like a kid these days.
"What are you doing here, honey?" she asked when the little girl ran to greet her.
"I kept Andrew company on the way up. I didn't want him to be alone. He was kind of scared."
"That was pretty wonderful of you. Is his mom here?"
"Yeah. She's in there," Rebecca pointed at some doors.
The young man walked over to them and put out his hand, "I'm Roy Nelson, a counselor from camp."
"What did Andrew do?" Polly asked.
"He was climbing a tree and fell out of it," Rebecca burst in. "He said he heard his arm crack."
"You're kidding, right?" Polly looked at the young man.
"That's what he said."
Polly took the hand that Rebecca had offered and led her back to the chairs, "So was Andrew supposed to be in that tree?"
"They dared him to climb it," she said. "But he wasn't scared at all until he was lying on the ground."
"I'll bet."
Rebecca leaned into Polly and said quietly enough that the counselor couldn't hear her. "Will you take me home with you and Andrew? I don't want to be there without him."
"It's only one more night," Polly said just as quietly. "Don't you like camp?"
"The girls in my cabin were all together last year and they're stuck up. They told me they don't like me."
"Oh, I'm sorry." Polly put her arm around Rebecca's shoulders. "Are you sure about that? What about all of your things?"
Rebecca pointed to two duffel bags. "Roy packed Andrew's things and I brought mine just in case you said yes."
"Of course I'll say yes, but maybe you should talk to your mom."
"She'll let me come home. I just know she will."
Polly swiped her phone open and brought up Sarah's number, then handed it to Rebecca. "You call her. If she's ready for you to come home, then I will certainly take you."
"Thank you!" Rebecca jumped up and went to a corner of the waiting room and was soon talking animatedly into the phone. She was nodding and smiling, then ran back to Polly and jumped up on the chair beside her.
Rebecca whispered into Polly's ear. "She says I can come home with you and Andrew and that if he," she looked at Roy, who was reading a magazine, "has a problem with it, he can call her. Will you tell him or should I?"
Polly grinned at the girl. "You can start if you'd like. If you need backup, I'm right here."
Throwing her arms around Polly's neck, Rebecca kissed her cheek and said, "You're the greatest." Then she bounced down to the floor and went up to stand in front of the counselor. "Excuse me, Roy?"
"Yes, Rebecca."
"Mom says I can go home with Polly and Andrew. I have my stuff. Is that okay?"
He glanced at Polly, who nodded slightly and then he turned back to Rebecca. "If you'd like to do that, I think it would be fine. Andrew will probably be glad to have a friend with him."
"Thank you," Rebecca said, more shyly now.
He stood up and moved over to sit beside Polly. "We figured this might happen and I have a couple of things that I need to have you sign."
"Okay," she said and tried to read his body language. He wanted to say something else to her. Polly reached into her pocket and pulled out a few singles. "Rebecca?"
"Yes?"
"Would you mind getting me a Diet Dew from the vending machine?" She looked at Roy. "Do you want anything?"
"No, I'm fine. Thanks."
"Do you want something?" Polly asked Rebecca.
"Could I have a Coke?"
"How about something with no caffeine."
Rebecca's shoulders slumped and she walked to the machine.
"Thanks," he said. "We talked to her mother this morning while we waited for the ambulance. We knew she wouldn't want to stay at camp by herself, but thought it should be her decision."
"Awesome," Polly said. "Maybe next year she'll do better with this. She's had a pretty sheltered life up until these last few months."
"That's what we understand. She did pretty well as long as she could get to Andrew. She's not terribly comfortable with large groups of girls she doesn't know, but that will come."
He handed Polly a tablet and stylus and pointed to a highlighted line. "Just sign here that you are taking responsibility for her and we're good to go."
"That's pretty upscale paperwork for a summer camp," she said.
"It was my idea. I'm at Drake - Graphic Design and Computer Science."
"Seriously?"
"One more year."
"You're going to be a senior?"
"Fifth year senior. With the double major, I have another year."
"So you're, what. Twenty?"
"Twenty-two."
"You're just a kid."
He grinned at her. "That's what my mom said when I moved into an apartment last year."
"Where are you from?" she asked.
"Oelwein. Hub City, you know."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Hub City? That's its nickname. I guess it's all about the railroad."
"No, where did you say you were from?"
"Oelwein? Why?"
"Because I'm looking for the daughter of a friend and the last we knew she was in your hometown. She ran away from home and from what I understand is with a real jerk of a guy and all of a sudden she's gone incommunicado. I was just talking to her father and wow, maybe you can help me."
"What's going on?"
Polly considered it for a moment and then told him most of the story. In the middle of the tale, Rebecca came back, handed her the bottle of pop and sat down with hers, listening raptly. It occurred to Polly that maybe the little girl didn't need to know about all of the ugliness in the world, but once she started talking, she wasn't going to stop.
She finished her story and then said, "I hate to do this, but is there anyone you know who might help me find this girl?"
He gave her a knowing smile. "You have no idea who you're talking to."
Tomorrow's Promises (Bellingwood Book 7) Page 13