Josh looked away, still angry at her.
“He’ll do it,” Randy said.
Mary Bliss put both hands on Josh’s shoulders. He tried to twist away from her, but she held on tight. “Promise me, Josh. Erin could be in a lot of trouble. Anything could happen to her. I mean it. Promise me you’ll help me find her.”
“Whatever,” he mumbled.
“What can I do?” Randy asked. “Shall I go with you?”
“I’m fine,” Mary Bliss said reflexively. “But thanks.”
She ran back across the street. Matt was talking on the kitchen phone. He put his hand on the receiver. “Did the kid talk? What did you find out?”
“It’s like you thought. Erin’s gone to Key West to find Parker. I’m going after her.”
Mary Bliss ran upstairs to her bedroom, with Katharine not far behind. She got an overnight bag out of the closet and threw in a change of clothes and a toothbrush. She hesitated a minute, then went into Erin’s room and got a change of clothes for her daughter and added it to the bag.
“Just like this?” Katharine asked. “You’re going to take off in the middle of the night?”
“Yes,” Mary Bliss said. “Don’t try to talk me out of it.”
“I won’t,” Katharine said. “Do you have any cash?”
“No,” Mary Bliss admitted. “Maybe five bucks. And my credit cards are useless.”
“I’ve got cash at the house,” Katharine said. “Maybe five hundred bucks. You can follow me home and get it. Take my American Express card too. I’d go with you, but I don’t want to leave Charlie home alone this soon.”
“I’ll be fine by myself,” Mary Bliss assured her. “But the money will help. Thanks. You really are the best.”
“Don’t try to drive all night,” Katharine warned her. “Stop at a hotel. Not some fleabag either. Do you have any kind of a plan?”
“Yeah, do you have a plan?” The women looked up. Matt Hayslip stood in the door. “Don’t tell me you’re planning on driving to Key West tonight.”
“That’s just what I’m planning,” Mary Bliss said.
“You can’t go off half-cocked like this,” Matt said. “Let me do some legwork. I’ve put in a call to the sheriff’s office, asked them to put out an APB on that Range Rover of Parker’s. They’re going to send patrols by that phone booth on Duval Street. If Parker’s down there, they’ll find him. And they’ll find Erin too.”
Mary Bliss pushed a strand of hair out of her eye. “I told you, I don’t want the police scaring Erin. Why can’t you let me do this my own way?”
“Because you don’t know what you’re doing,” Matt retorted. “You’re scared and you’re panicky, and you’re not thinking things through clearly.”
“I’ve thought it through very clearly,” Mary Bliss said, her teeth gritted. “I’m going over to the nursing home right now. Eula knows where Parker is. She gave Erin his phone number. And now I’m going to go over there and wake her up, and if she doesn’t tell me every damn thing she knows, I swear to God, I’ll twist her head off with my bare hands.”
Katharine gave her a wan smile. “I’d pay money to see that. Come on, then, let’s get your cash and get you going.”
Matt shook his head in disbelief. “You’re just going to let her go like that? Alone?”
Katharine was already out the door, tagging after Mary Bliss. “You don’t know Mary Bliss very well, do you? Nobody lets that girl do anything.”
“At least let me go with you,” Matt called, hurrying down the stairs after the women. “It’s eight hundred miles to Key West. That’s a sixteen-hour drive, Mary Bliss. We’ll get there quicker with two drivers.”
“No way,” Mary Bliss said. “You just want Parker. So you can get your client’s money back. This isn’t about Parker anymore. It’s about my child. And me. And if she sees you, she’ll take off running in the opposite direction.”
Mary Bliss hefted her overnight bag onto her shoulder. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, Matt. Really. But I’ve got to do this alone.”
69
Midnight. The front door of the Fair Oaks Assisted Living Facility was locked. Through the glass Mary Bliss could see a large middle-aged black man. He was asleep, with his chins resting on his gray uniformed chest.
She rapped on the glass. He jumped up, startled, stared at her as if she’d just been beamed down there by an alien life force.
“I need to see Mrs. McGowan,” Mary Bliss called. “It’s a family emergency.”
He walked over to the doors and continued to stare at her.
“Let me in,” Mary Bliss insisted. “It’s an emergency.”
He wavered, then unbolted the doors and opened them. “Everybody’s sleeping. Visiting hours aren’t until morning,” he said.
She brushed right past him. “I told you, this is an emergency. Anyway, she hardly sleeps at all these days. I’m sure she’s still awake.”
The security guard trailed after her, past the abandoned nursing station, past an aide who was coming out of one of the rooms, ’til finally, she paused outside Eula’s room.
“I’ll just be a few minutes,” Mary Bliss said, opening the door.
The room was dark and quiet, not what she expected. Even when she was sleeping, Eula left the television on and the overhead light blazing. That way, she said, she could see who was stealing from her.
Mary Bliss felt in the dark for the light switch. The overhead light snapped on. The room was empty. Eula’s wheelchair was empty. Her bed was unmade, the covers shoved to one side. The television had been turned off.
“She’s gone,” Mary Bliss told the security guard, who stood there, openmouthed, his hand on his holster, which held only a two-way radio. “Call somebody,” Mary Bliss said loudly. “My mother-in-law is missing.”
The guard switched on his two-way radio and Mary Bliss followed him back to the nursing station. “Hello,” she called, until a night shift nurse she didn’t recognize emerged from a supply closet.
“Mrs. Eula McGowan,” Mary Bliss said, a little breathlessly. “My mother-in-law. She’s not in her room. I’m very concerned.”
“Let me call the supervisor,” the nurse said. Mary Bliss stood by the station and drummed her fingers on the countertop until the nursing supervisor came hurrying down the hallway toward them.
“Mrs. McGowan?” she said when she got closer. This was a woman Mary Bliss had seen before. She was tall and thin with strangely colored red hair. Her name badge identified her as Mrs. Shoemaker.
“I’m Mary Bliss McGowan. I came looking for my mother-in-law. We’ve got sort of a family emergency. But she’s not in her room.”
“We’ve been trying to call you for the past hour,” the woman said, a note of reproach in her voice. “But we kept getting a busy signal. Mrs. McGowan’s doctor was in this afternoon. Her blood pressure had dropped noticeably, and her heartbeat was irregular. She was complaining of dizziness and chest pain. The doctor ordered a new medication on Friday; we think maybe she’s had some kind of reaction to it.”
The gin, Mary Bliss thought. Eula had been mixing martinis with whatever medication she’d been given.
The nurse was talking rapidly, her face flushed. “We sent your mother-in-law over to Piedmont Hospital’s emergency room, not thirty minutes ago.”
“It’s that bad?” Mary Bliss asked. “Is she conscious?”
“She was highly agitated,” the woman said. “At one point, she pulled out the IV the doctor had ordered. So she’s been sedated. You’ll have to speak to her doctor if you want any more information than that.”
The nurse stood back and watched to see Mary Bliss’s reaction.
“Are you talking about Dr. Hansen? Dick Hansen?” Mary Bliss asked. “Her regular doctor?”
“No,” the nurse said. “This was Dr. Katz. Sheri Katz. She was on call this weekend. I can give you her beeper number. We called the service and let her know we were sending your mother over there.”
&nbs
p; “Mother-in-law,” Mary Bliss automatically corrected her. The nurse wrote down the number. Mary Bliss tucked it in her pocket and said a quick prayer that this would not be Eula’s time. Not yet. Then she went back to Eula’s room.
She’d gotten very good at ransacking, she thought, as she opened drawers and cupboards. Eula’s room was much neater, an easier job. She searched under the stacks of cotton nightgowns, thrust her hand into the cartons of adult diapers on the floor of Eula’s closet, opened the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, looking for something.
She plunged without guilt into Eula’s pocketbook. Her billfold held an expired Georgia driver’s license, her social security card, a Kroger discount card, and a dog-eared snapshot of Parker. There was a key ring, an address book, a checkbook, and a package of tissues. Mary Bliss checked every page of the address book but found nothing out of the ordinary.
On a shelf under the windowsill, Mary Bliss went through the half dozen books stacked there. A Bible—untouched, Mary Bliss noted. Two Eugenia Price paperback novels. A paperback book about prescription medications. The last book was one of inspirational poetry by a Methodist minister’s wife. Mary Bliss riffled the pages until something fell out.
She picked it up and looked. A thin rubber band–wrapped package of postcards. All the scenes appeared to be of tropical beaches. Florida beaches. She turned them over and recognized Parker’s handwriting immediately.
“Hope all is well at home. Weather wonderful.” All were signed “Your loving son.”
There were four of them. The postmarks were from Fernandina Beach, Cocoa Beach, Orlando, and Fort Lauderdale. The most recent card had been mailed nearly three weeks earlier.
Mary Bliss put the books back on the shelf and walked quickly back to the nursing station. Luckily, Mrs. Shoemaker was still there, checking something on the computer monitor there.
“Mrs. Shoemaker,” Mary Bliss said, willing herself to be calm. “I’m sorry you weren’t able to reach me tonight. As I’ve said, we’ve had another family emergency. I was wondering, who else did you call tonight? To notify family about Mrs. McGowan’s transfer to the hospital? Doesn’t somebody have to give you permission to do that?”
Mrs. Shoemaker drew herself up indignantly. “This was a medical emergency. We sent her on the physician’s order.”
“I’m sure you were right to do so,” Mary Bliss said, trying to placate the woman. “But did you call anybody else in the family? It’s really important that I know.”
Mrs. Shoemaker allowed herself a slight smirk. Mary Bliss decided to let it go. For weeks now, Eula had been telling everyone within earshot that Parker was definitely alive—even though his widow had supposedly “buried” him in June.
“Did Eula give you another family member’s name?” Mary Bliss repeated.
“Mrs. McGowan did give us a new emergency contact number two weeks ago,” Mrs. Shoemaker relented. She opened a drawer and pulled out a metal file box. She leafed through the index cards until she’d found the one she wanted and extracted it.
“Alvin Bayless,” she read. “Is that a nephew or something?”
Mary Bliss snatched the card out of her hand and ran for the door with it.
Alvin Bayless. She couldn’t believe Parker had been so obvious. Alvin was Parker’s first name, a name he hated so much, he’d had it legally changed as soon as he turned twenty-one. Bayless was Eula’s maiden name.
When she got to the car, she looked at the writing on the card. The area code was the same one she remembered from Erin’s cell phone log. She picked up the Nokia and dialed.
“Hello?” A man’s voice, not Parker’s.
“Let me speak to Parker McGowan, please,” Mary Bliss said, crossing her fingers.
“Who?” the man said. But he’d waited a beat too long. He knew who she was talking about.
“Parker McGowan,” Mary Bliss repeated. “It’s urgent that I speak to him tonight.”
“I don’t know a Parker McGowan,” the man said. “I think you must have the wrong number.”
“All right,” Mary Bliss said, deciding to play along. “How about Alvin Bayless. Is he around?”
“He’s gone,” the man said.
“When did he leave?”
“Who’s calling, please?”
“His wife,” Mary Bliss said.
“Right.” The man laughed and hung up.
Mary Bliss redialed. The phone picked up on the first ring.
“Listen, I told you he’s not here. He left an hour ago. Who is this really?”
Mary Bliss felt helpless. “It really is his wife. Don’t hang up, please. Listen. Parker’s mother, I mean, Alvin’s mother, is in the hospital. She’s very ill. She might not live out the night. His daughter has run away from home. I think she’s headed down there to see her father. Now, I have got to talk to him. Tonight. Right away.”
“Like I said, he left here an hour ago. He got a phone call. Something important, I guess, because he just took off. Without saying a word about what was going on. Of course, he never tells me anything, anyway.”
“Where does he live?” Mary Bliss asked, crossing her fingers.
“You’re his wife, you tell me,” the man said, laughing at his own joke.
This time it was Mary Bliss’s turn to hang up.
She was headed for the Amoco station near the interstate when she saw a red light blinking on the dashboard.
“No,” she said, pounding the steering wheel. “I fixed you up last week. No more red lights.”
The light kept on blinking. Was it the one telling her she needed more coolant? Or more oil? She couldn’t remember which. Maybe somebody at the gas station could help. As she was pulling into the station, her heart sank. The old gas station office, which had for years housed two homely but competent attendants, both of whom were named Buddy, now featured a minimart convenience store, a cappuccino counter, and a Burger King.
But no Buddys.
Erin’s cell phone rang. Mary Bliss snatched it up, praying it was news about Erin.
“Mary Bliss?” It was Matt. “I’m still at your place. The nursing home called right after you left. Your mother-in-law is in the hospital…”
“I know,” Mary Bliss said. “Is there any more news? Has Erin called?”
“No,” Matt said. “Listen, I really think you should reconsider driving down to the Keys by yourself. That car of yours is on its last legs. The tires are bald and it’s burning oil. Not to mention the air conditioning. Come on back here. We’ll take my Explorer. And I swear, I won’t turn it into a manhunt for Parker. We’ll find Erin and bring her home. That’s it.”
Should she tell him about Parker? While she considered, Mary Bliss looked over at the dashboard again. A second blinking red light had joined the first. It was like the car had a nervous twitch.
“If you break down in Hahira, you’ll never find her,” Matt pointed out.
“All right,” she said. “You can come. But I’m driving first shift.”
“Pick me up at your place,” he said.
70
Matt was sitting in the Explorer, with the motor running, when she pulled into the driveway. She hopped out of her own still-sputtering car and gave the balding right rear tire a vicious kick. “Thanks for nothing,” she whispered.
As she walked to the Explorer, she heard water running. She glanced across the street. Randy Bowden stood in the dark, a garden hose clutched idly in his right hand. Water puddled around his bare feet, totally missing the dried-up shrubbery near the front door. “Bye,” he called out. His voice was soft, defeated. “Call if you need anything.”
“I will,” she promised.
She went around to the driver’s side and tapped on the window. “Shove over,” she said. “I’m driving, remember?”
Matt looked annoyed, but he got out and switched seats.
Driving the Explorer was like driving a big, air-conditioned battleship. It had tinted windows and leather seats and the new-car smell, and
every car-type gadget known to mankind. She steered the thing onto Interstate 75, headed south. The radio was tuned to a classic rock station. They were playing “Rambling Man” by the Allman Brothers.
She waited until the song was over to speak.
“I went through Eula’s things at the nursing home. I found some postcards Parker had sent her. All from Florida.”
“Any news?” he asked eagerly.
“ ‘Weather wonderful. Your loving son,’ ” she quoted, her lips twisted in a bitter smile. “He gave her a phone number too. I called it.”
“And?”
“Some guy answered. He claimed Parker had gotten a phone call an hour earlier and taken off. He said he didn’t know where Parker had gone.”
“What do you think?” Matt asked.
“I’m wondering if the phone call was from the nursing home, telling him Eula was being taken to the emergency room,” Mary Bliss said. “I’m wondering if he’s heading back to Atlanta—at the same time Erin is headed down there to find him.”
“What a mess,” Matt said, shaking his head. “Did the guy tell you anything else?”
“No,” Mary Bliss said. “He wouldn’t even tell me where Parker’s been living. I can’t stand it, Matt. I can’t stand the idea of Erin wandering around South Florida, looking for her dad. She’s so young. Anything could happen. You said it yourself, it’s eight hundred miles. What if her car breaks down? South Florida is full of homicidal maniacs. What if—”
“No more of that,” Matt said gently. “We’ll find her.”
“How?” Mary Bliss asked.
“We’ll work as a team. You know your daughter. You know her habits. I know police work. I have a cop’s instincts. Do you still have that number Parker left at the nursing home?”
Mary Bliss handed him the index card. He pulled out his cell phone and made a call. He listened, then left a message.
“By morning, we’ll have an address for that phone number,” he promised her. “We’ll start there.”
Little Bitty Lies Page 37