by Blythe Baker
“Would you like me to drive you, Maddie?” Michael offered.
“I’ll drive her home. This is a family emergency,” Drake cut in.
“You want to maybe let her answer?” Michael slowly started to stand up. “I’ll drive you home, Maddie. If you feel you need a lift.”
I was embarrassed. People were staring at us. The waitress looked annoyed at the small scene we were causing.
I ended the discussion. “I’m driving myself home. My car is right out front.”
I marched out of the restaurant without giving anyone a chance to respond.
Once I was outside, the cool air felt good. Being alone was exactly what I needed. It felt like I was finally able to breathe.
“Maddie, wait up!” Drake called out.
Good grief. He was running after me. What alternate universe had I stepped into?
“I told you I’m driving myself home, Drake,” I reminded him firmly. “Follow me back to the house, if you like, and we can wait for Mamma Jackie together.” I opened my car door. “But I’m telling you now, your mother is not going to make a habit of this. You’ve got to help me get that across to her. I won’t live this way, even temporarily.”
“I understand. I’ll meet you there.”
Drake pulled out his keys and headed off to his car. It was the biggest behemoth on the block. I remembered when he had pulled that horrific monstrosity into our driveway for the first time. It was some kind of seven person luxury car, jet black with tinted windows and every gadget operated by the touch of a finger on a screen on the dashboard. A person needed an advanced degree in engineering just to figure out how to change the radio. It was a monster.
Meanwhile, my old clunker was all I needed. It was paid for and the insurance was cheap. I sped down the street toward home, expecting to find Mamma Jackie there with all the lights on. I was prepared for Moonshine to be out of his cage, squawking and cawing as he flew from a light fixture to the back of a chair to a curtain rod. But as I pulled into the driveway, the place loomed darkly ahead of me. No lights. No movement. Nothing.
“This is getting weird,” I muttered. As I was climbing out of my car, Drake pulled up and parked his vehicle behind mine.
“Were you trying to break the sound barrier on the drive home?” he asked. “I could barely keep up.”
I ignored his criticism and pulled out my house keys. We climbed the front steps and, in moments, I had the door open. Inside, I walked through the house, turning on the lights in the front room and the kitchen.
“Do you want some spaghetti?” I asked Drake, as I transferred the contents of my take-out box to a dish and popped it into the microwave.
Reheated spaghetti sounded far from appealing but I was starving and couldn’t wait any longer.
“No thanks,” he said.
Drake walked to his mother’s room and snapped on the light. He stood in the doorway, looking into the room. She wasn’t there but all of her things were.
“Good. I didn’t really want to share my dinner,” I muttered, as I watched my food going round and round in the microwave.
“That’s nice,” Drake said. He loosened his tie and pulled off his jacket. “Living on your own has really made you territorial, I see.”
“Maybe it has,” I agreed unapologetically, as I pulled the steaming reheated spaghetti from the microwave and took a seat at my cluttered dining room table.
“Is this where you have to eat?” Drake wrinkled his nose at my clutter.
“This is where I have to eat tonight, because someone came and ruined my date and the first chance I’ve had to eat at a clean table in weeks,” I pointed out, around a mouthful of food. I tore a piece of garlic bread in half and dunked it into the oily sauce. It would have been even better if I hadn’t had to nuke it.
“I’m sorry about that.”
Drake didn’t sound sorry at all. But he did seem worried. He paced from the kitchen to the front room and back again. “If I knew you were having such a good time, I wouldn’t have interrupted.”
I accepted the apology and finished my meal in silence. Once I was finished I patted my stomach and took my dishes back to the kitchen and rinsed them in my ugly old sink.
“Where is she?” Drake finally asked.
“She’s probably out at the casino or maybe she’s still at the community garden. Those volunteers are there throughout the day. They love her. For some reason.” That last comment came under my breath.
“My mother doesn’t have friends, Maddie. You know that better than anyone,” Drake said.
I shrugged. “You may not believe it but those green thumbs over there really love having her around. She keeps them on their toes. Crazy as it may seem, she really does have a knack for getting people to work. I’ve seen some of them talking with her and I’ve even seen her laughing. I wouldn’t have believed it, if I didn’t see it with my own two eyes.”
Drake looked doubtful.
“It’s true. I have no reason to lie,” I added. I walked into the front room and pulled Moonshine’s cover from his cage.
“Hey, pretty bird. Did you get some rest, after staying up all night?” I asked.
“Rawk!” was all the parrot had to say.
I opened his cage and reached in to get his water dish. He chose that moment to poop on my wrist.
“Ugh! Moonshine!” I shouted. “You’re so gross.”
“Good luck,” the bird chirped, suddenly cheerful. “Good luck.”
“Good luck? Who taught him that?” Drake asked. He looked at the bird like he’d never seen the feathered creature before in his life.
“It wasn’t me. You’re mom once said that if a bird poops on you, it’s good luck. She said everyone knew that.”
“Good luck,” Moonshine contributed again.
I hurried into the kitchen to scrub my hands and wrists with dishwasher soap, before refilling Moonshine’s water dish. I brought it back to the cage and quickly slipped it into its little slot, before yanking my hand out and closing the gate.
“Mean bird,” I grumbled. “If you weren’t so pretty and if Mamma Jackie didn’t love you so much, I’d be serving you up for Sunday dinner.
“Rawk! Lazy!” the bird mocked my threat.
I didn’t reply. It was an argument I wouldn’t win. That was defeating in itself. Bullied by a parrot. How embarrassing.
Without another word, I kicked off my shoes and flopped down on the couch.
Drake walked up to Moonshine and peered at him between the delicate bars of his cage.
“Hi, Moonshine,” he said.
I braced myself for the barrage of insults the bird was going to shower over my ex-husband. What would it be? Ugly? Lazy?
“Hello, baby boy.” The bird actually whistled and clicked his tongue, flapping his wings and preening himself.
Drake stuck his finger inside the cage and stroked the bird’s bright feathers.
“Unbelievable.” I shook my head, watching the gross display this bird was putting on. “He hates everyone but you and your mother. I feed that bird and clean his cage. I talk nice to him and he poops on me and my stuff.”
“I believe it,” Drake said. “Birds can be as territorial as humans. He’s probably jealous and think he’s ‘defending’ my mom from you.”
That was an interesting theory and, for a moment, I looked at Moonshine in a whole new way.
“Lazy,” Moonshine chirped and bobbed his head up and down.
That was the last straw. “I give up trying to understand him.” I pushed myself up off the couch. “I’m going to go put my pajamas on. How long do you plan on staying?”
“Until Mom comes home,” Drake said without hesitation.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Did you see her this morning at all?” he asked, while still stroking Moonshine’s feathers. The bird clicked and bobbed happily.
“No.” I swallowed as that word sunk in. The last time I saw my ex-mother-in-law was when she went to bed the prev
ious night. Technically, I hadn’t seen her in over twenty-four hours. Maybe her disappearance was more serious than I had thought.
With the realization, it felt like a block of ice formed in my chest. Quickly, I told Drake and suggested we call the police.
“Not yet.” He shook his head. “You were probably right not to panic earlier. It’s more than likely she’s at the casino and will be home any time.”
“If you really believed that, I don’t think you’d have come all the way down here,” I pointed out. “Anyway, she’s been gone longer than we thought. Maybe she is in trouble. Or maybe the police have her already, you know. Sometimes people her age lose their wallets and forget their way.”
“She doesn’t have Alzheimer’s,” Drake argued.
“I didn’t say she did. I’m just saying she could have fallen and hit her head. She might’ve hopped on a bus, fallen asleep, and ended up in Santa Fe. Who knows? But the police could help.”
“Not yet,” he insisted. “We’ll give her a little longer to turn up.”
After his eagerness to drive all the way from Winchester to check on Mamma Jackie, I couldn’t understand his sudden reluctance to involve the police. But maybe he was right. She was his mother, after all, and he knew her better than I did.
I gave in and went upstairs to change out of my nice clothes. When I came back down, Drake was looking out the window by the front door. Despite his insistence she would come home, I could see he was still worried. He jumped when I spoke.
“If she’s not back in a couple more hours, we’re informing the police,” I said firmly. “It would be irresponsible not to.”
He didn’t argue, as I took a seat on the couch. My grandmother had a real flair for decorating, even though most of the furniture was older and vintage in style. Everything was made to last. The couch I was sitting on had a scrolled wood frame. The cushions were firm and covered in a lovely silk that was not much different from the kimonos in the basement. Grandmother had half a dozen soft pillows scattered around. I took one and popped it behind my head.
“See anything outside?” I asked Drake.
“Just the dark and a couple of teenagers walking by. Nothing else.”
“No UFO sightings or glimpses of the Bigfoot tonight? That’s a relief,” I joked, trying to ease the tension.
Drake didn’t laugh at my comment. Worry was pulling his mouth down at the corners and his eyes looked tired.
“Why don’t you sit down, Drake? Would you like me to make us some tea?”
“No. Don’t trouble yourself.” He sighed.
“You’re not hungry?”
He shook his head. I started to see the pattern he was pacing from the front window to Mamma Jackie’s room, then to the veranda and back to the living room. It was an endless circle.
I heard him start to say something, but my eyes were getting heavy. So much had happened since I got up this morning. It felt like three days had gone by in the span of twenty-four hours. Even my interrupted date with Michael was starting to feel like a long time ago.
“I’ll call him and explain everything tomorrow,” I muttered.
“Who?” Drake asked.
“What?”
“You said you were going to call someone tomorrow.” He scratched the back of his neck as he looked at me.
“Sorry, I was just thinking out loud,” I said, as Drake walked back to the front window to look outside. Before he could come back, I’d fallen asleep. The next thing I knew, was waking up with the sun starting to shine.
7
I wasn’t sure what woke me up. When I blinked my eyes open I couldn’t believe I had fallen asleep on my couch. It wasn’t that my grandmother’s couch wasn’t comfy. It was. To sit in. It just wasn’t the kind of furniture you could relax on while watching a football game or something. So, I was surprised the entire night had slipped by.
My body was cozy and warm beneath a blanket. I could almost have snuggled in and closed my eyes again. But then I remembered why I was on the couch to begin with.
Drake was asleep in the armchair facing the front door. He looked older. I’d bet he didn’t get to sleep until just an hour ago. It was obviously him who had covered me with the blanket. That was nice of him. The house got cool at night. I hoped he wouldn’t come down with a cold from sleeping in his clothes in the chair.
Quietly, I got up and went into the kitchen.
Moonshine had been covered. I wasn’t ready for his good mornings. At least not until the morning coffee was brewing.
As I walked toward Mamma Jackie’s room, I was sure the back veranda looked different. My heart jumped. If that old woman was sleeping soundly in her bed, I was going to screech like a banshee.
When I peeked into her room, it looked the same as it did yesterday. Nothing had been moved or changed. But when I went to the veranda and peered out the sliding door, I saw it. There was a note tacked to the railing.
I glanced quickly in Drake’s direction. He was still sleeping.
I snapped the lock on the door open and slid the door to the right. It glided smoothly along the track, making a soft sound as it did so. Perhaps it wasn’t smart, but I stuck my head out first and looked around. The chairs had been moved. I had a rocking chair and a bench, in addition to a swing made for two. Each one had been scooted in such a way that I wouldn’t be able to get off the veranda without seeing the note, Whoever had put it there wanted me to read their note, no matter what.
Carefully, in my bare feet, I inched up to the note.
“Say nothing. If you want to see Jackie alive again, keep quiet and wait for further instructions.”
I gasped. I didn’t touch the note but bent down to study it. The letters were printed in a block style and written in blue marker on plain white typing paper. There was nothing distinguishing about them that I could see. The paper had no watermark or anything unique about it.
“Leave it where it is, Maddie,” I muttered to myself. “There could be clues you don’t see yet.”
I stood on tiptoe and looked over the veranda and off into the distance. There was nothing out of the ordinary around the yard. The trees looked the same. The flowers and plants hadn’t been disturbed. Whoever delivered this note didn’t leave a trace of their coming and going, as far as I could tell. I held my breath and listened.
It was unusually quiet. Or was it just me? Was I just paranoid?
“You have a note on your veranda that someone has Mamma Jackie,” I reminded myself. “Paranoia is probably a good thing.”
My heart still beating unnaturally fast, I dashed back into the house.
“Drake! Drake!” I shouted.
Startled from his sleep, he jumped in the chair, his head jerking in my direction.
“What’s wrong? Is Mom home?” he asked, as he stood up and rubbed his eyes.
“No, she’s not. Someone’s got her,” I said frantically, while I fumbled around for my phone.
“What do you mean someone’s got her?”
“Go out on the veranda. There’s a note,” I explained. “I’m calling Michael. He’s a police detective and will know what to do.”
Drake dashed out onto the veranda to see the note. I hardly noticed his leaving, because I was caught up in a search. I couldn’t remember where I had put my cell phone.
“Where are you? Where are you?” I muttered anxiously, searching among the couch cushions. “I can’t call Michael without my phone.”
“Who’s Michael?” Drake asked, his voice sounding strangely hollow, as he came back in from the veranda. He was clearly confused by the speed of events. When I looked back at him, I was sure he was going to fall over in a dead faint.
That reminded me that I needed to take a few deep breaths myself. What had happened to Mamma Jackie was terrible. Yes, even with all the differences we’d had, I could admit it was horrible that she had been kidnapped. But it was important to keep my head. I had been through dangerous situations before. It hadn’t been that long ago that
I had solved the Jenkins murder.
My stomach lurched at the realization that I was comparing the two scenarios. Was that what had happened to Mamma Jackie too? Had she been harmed?
But no, I wouldn’t let myself think like that. Somewhere out there, that cantankerous old woman was safe and waiting to be rescued. Between the three of us, Drake, Michael, and I, we would figure out what had happened and find a way to get her back. Only first I had to calm myself down and calm Drake. She was his mother, after all.
“Drake, sit down. Try not to freak out,” I said, speaking as much for my own benefit as for his.
“I don’t need to sit. Who is this cop you’re talking about?”
“Michael Sullivan. You met him last night. He was my date, remember?”
I suddenly realized I hadn’t exactly introduced the two men. But that wasn’t important now. I rushed on with, “This is too much for us to sit on any longer. We need the police.”
“No. Don’t call them.”
“What?” I nearly choked on Drake’s unexpected order.
I said, “If you think we’re going to sit here in my house night after night, waiting to do whatever these people tell us, you’re crazy.”
“Don’t call Sullivan,” Drake insisted. “The note said to keep quiet. If we disobey it, we could be putting Mom in danger. We need to follow orders just long enough to buy us some time, while we figure out what to do.”
Although his eyes were anxious, he seemed unnaturally collected, now that he’d had a moment to absorb what was happening. It was strange to me, but who was I to say how a man should behave when his mother had been abducted.
“Drake, you’re a lawyer. I just inherited a tea garden for tourists. Together on our best day, we can’t deal with something like this. Not alone. I won’t call Michael, if you’d prefer I don’t, but I will call someone.”
He didn’t seem to be listening. He said, “Tell me, Maddie, who does Mom talk to the most at the garden you said she hangs out at?”