Sleep Like a Baby

by Charlaine Harris

  Oh, yes, I was upset.

  Robin was shaking his head in disbelief.

  “This didn’t go to the top of her pile?” Robin said, his voice very quiet. “Levon, maybe you don’t understand—the woman who’d already tried to kill Roe, the woman who stabbed her maid, was in the house with Roe and our baby. While they slept. And I wasn’t home to watch out for them.”

  Levon flinched. But maybe he felt a frank apology would be an admission of guilt. “Tracy wasn’t a crazy-eyed lunatic, who couldn’t think or reason,” he told us. “She’d told her doctor that she’d started reading the works of another mystery writer, Michael Connelly. She didn’t seem to be fixating on him in the same way. But the doctor actually told us to alert Connelly, too.”

  Beside me, I felt Robin stiffen. “And we know how accurate that doctor’s opinion was. Tracy wasn’t dumb. She could sure understand it was to her advantage to con the doctor into believing she wasn’t interested in me any longer.”

  “We should have had the opportunity to judge that ourselves,” I said.

  Though we had come to a conversational standstill, Levon made no move to leave.

  “You’ve gotten in touch with Tracy’s family?” I said, in as calm a voice as I could manage.

  “Cathy talked to them. The father’s been out of the picture for years. There’s a mother and a sister.”

  In spite of all my anger at Tracy Beal, I felt relieved her family knew what had happened. Everyone should be missed by someone, or at least claimed.

  “Where was her home?” Robin was walking around the room aimlessly. I was familiar with this restless mode; he’d wander while he talked.

  “Tracy was from an army family. She’d moved too many times to count. Her mother, Sandra, lives in South Carolina. Her sister, Sharon, lives in Anders, close to here. And the sister’s car is missing.”

  “Tracy took it?”

  “That’s what we’re assuming. The sister was gone on a camping trip with friends.”

  “Wait,” I said sharply. “You said Anders?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Robin, remember those flowers, the ones without a card? They came from a florist in Anders.”

  “So she was in the area even before I left for Bouchercon.” Robin looked as if he couldn’t take much more.

  I told Levon about the incident, which had seemed trivial (but odd) at the time.

  Robin would have been more likely to add two and two, since he’d gotten the peculiar e-mails.

  But enough of that thinking, I told myself, my teeth clenched. If we’d thought about Tracy Beal at all—and I hadn’t—we’d assumed she was safely ensconced in a mental hospital with strict security. I had to concentrate on something else. I was getting angry again. That wasn’t going to help the situation. “Any sign of Virginia? Maybe she’s called her mother?” I was grasping at straws.

  “Not yet.”

  I wanted to say, “Then why are you here?” But that seemed rude and abrupt. On the other hand …

  But Robin spoke for me. “So why do you need to talk to us? Tracy is still dead, Virginia is still missing, and you don’t know what happened to either one. The only new information is that Tracy got hit on the head, which Roe had seen for herself, and she probably took her sister’s car. Did the sister let Tracy stay at her home in Anders? I don’t believe for a minute that she didn’t know Tracy had taken her car.”

  “Sharon swears Tracy wasn’t staying at her house … at least with her knowledge. Of course, we’ve been checking all the motels around here. We were already doing that. Maybe we can pick up some other piece of information. And patrols in this area have been on the lookout for the car.”

  “What’s your best guess?” I said.

  “I think Tracy was staying in Sharon’s house,” Levon said without hesitation. “And I’m sure Sharon knew. But we’ll never get her to admit it, and we can’t prove she knew.”

  “You haven’t found any evidence of a connection between Virginia and Tracy?” Robin was asking every question that had occurred to me.

  Levon nodded. “Sandra Beal, Sharon Beal, Marcy Mitchell, even Virginia’s half brother, Carlos … all told us they’d never heard either woman mention the other. Since Virginia’s personal belongings were gone, it seems like Virginia left this house voluntarily. At least, we hope it was voluntarily. We have no idea why she left her car. That’s a little scary.”

  “Did Virginia have a significant other?” I said.

  “She’d broken up with her boyfriend three months ago. He denies having heard from her. Marcy, that’s her mother, says Virginia had dated a couple of other guys, nothing serious. So much from that end of the investigation. No one heard anything in this neighborhood. No one noticed a strange car. No one saw anything except your neighbor, Mr. Cohen.”

  “And he wasn’t right about who he saw.” I was still angry with Jonathan, along with almost everyone else. Robin patted my hand.

  “It seems he wasn’t,” Levon agreed. “Robin, we’ve got people canvassing the Nashville airport, and everything checks out. And your friend Jeff is ready to knock some heads together, just because we’re asking him to confirm your story.”

  Way to go, Jeff.

  “It’s too bad you can’t find her phone,” I said. “I guess it left when she did. She was really mad when she was talking on it, that has to be significant.”

  “Have you remembered anything? Something she said?”

  “I wish I could help you. But I didn’t hear any of her conversations. Or if I did, I was too sick to remember it.”

  Levon got up to leave. “I’m sorry,” he said awkwardly. “I know how I’d feel if I saw a stranger in my child’s room.”

  I reminded myself this whole situation was not his fault. “How old is Jeremy?” I asked, pulling the name of Levon’s son out of the grab bag in my head.

  “He just turned two.” Levon grinned. “He’s pretty great. This second baby’s going to be a boy, too. That’s what Katrina says, and she’s always right.”

  “A great talent to have,” I said, steering the conversation away from the stormy issues. “If people believed Katrina, they could save money on ultrasounds.”

  Just as Levon reached the door—just when I believed this interview was over—he turned to ask us some more questions. “I forgot to ask you if Virginia ever talked to you about her personal life?”

  Robin and I looked at each other and we shook our heads.

  “Roe, you haven’t remembered anything new about Virginia’s first time here?”

  “I was a brand-new mom with a brand-new baby. A big adjustment physically and mentally. I can’t remember us ever chatting.”

  “If you remember who told your mother about Virginia, let us know.”

  Robin said, “Levon, I hope you won’t question Aida about this now. John’s had another heart attack and he’s in the hospital. It’s a very bad time.”

  Levon looked uncomfortable. “I understand that. But I need to get any information as soon as I can.”

  I nodded. “I’ll let Mother know.” When I’m good and ready. When Mother can think about something else besides her husband.

  Finally, finally, Levon left, after making sure we did not have any other scrap of information. We breathed simultaneous sighs of relief when the door closed behind him.

  “Virginia’s such a mystery. I didn’t know anyone was, these days.” I didn’t even bother to sit down with a book, or start something in the kitchen, because Little Miss’s unexpected nap was over. I sighed. “Back to being Elsie the cow,” I said.

  “I’m going to Google Virginia.” Robin went back to his office. He called, “Roe! Did you put my sweater in the wash?”

  “No,” I called back. “I’m going to feed Sophie and fold some laundry. I’ll check to see if Virginia threw it in the wash, though I don’t know why she’d go in your office.”

  In seconds we had scattered, relieved to do something that felt normal.

 
I happily entered my “mom cocoon” with my daughter. We shared the better part of an hour, between feeding and playing. I took her into the bedroom with me while I folded laundry (no sweater), settling her in the middle of our bed and putting firm pillows on each side of her in case she suddenly decided to learn how to roll over. I sang to her while I worked, and I talked to her, and I thought about how very lucky I was.

  Except for Tracy being murdered in my backyard.

  And my babysitter going missing.

  And my stepfather having a heart attack.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I called my mother the first thing Tuesday morning. John’s condition was stable, and that was good. That day I took two more turns sitting with Mother at his bedside, one in late afternoon and one at ten at night. Mother was silent and stoic, but there were constant tears in her eyes. For the first time she looked old, though she was not yet sixty.

  Melinda, Avery’s wife, came into the ICU as I was leaving. She’d been pulling babysitting duty, so she hadn’t gotten to the hospital often. “I got both my own kids down,” she said. “John David came by to pick up Chase. Avery fell into bed. I figured I’d come be with your mom.”

  I hugged her. “Mother just won’t talk,” I said. “She just sits and waits.”

  “John’s a great father-in-law and a wonderful grandfather,” Melinda said sadly. “I don’t want to lose him. I want the kids to know him. And he’s been so happy with your mother. They haven’t had long enough together.”

  “That’s all true, and more. We just have to wait and see. I hate waiting and seeing.”

  Melinda managed a smile. “Me, too. Too much of life is spent doing that. How’s Sophie?”

  “Well and happy and enjoying being the center of the universe,” I said. “And Marcy and Charles?”

  “Marcy said a new word the other day. Unfortunately, it was a bad one. Now we have to figure out where she learned it. Charles is walking. He wanted to go with Marcy when she left the room. He just stood up and started across the floor.”

  “Your kids are so cute,” I said, because it was true and because mothers have to support each other.

  “I haven’t had a chance to tell you I’m sorry for all your trouble.” Melinda had suddenly recalled that my family had other problems in addition to John’s bad health. “Is it true Robin had met the dead woman?”

  “So had I. She was Robin’s stalker. You remember, the woman who attacked me in my first house? Tracy Beal? She was supposed to be in a psychiatric hospital, but she escaped.” I felt as though I’d told this story many times.

  “Oh my God! You’re lucky she was killed, instead of her killing you!”

  Hearing this out loud made me feel weak in the knees. I patted Melinda on the shoulder and made myself march out the front door. The circular drive was choked with cars, some dropping off visitors, some picking up patients. I stood in the center for a moment, watching the water splash in the fountain. I hoped the sound would bring me peace. But it didn’t.

  I glanced behind me at all the blank windows, all three floors, and knew that behind them lay suffering and grief and pain. I had to remind myself that there was healing, too.

  When I reached my car, I was grateful to collapse inside. I was a mess. I had to stiffen my backbone. I could not heal John, I could not resurrect Tracy, I could not find Virginia. All I could do was soldier on. I had to drive home, and I had to … all I could think of was going to bed. It had been a long and exhausting day. I still wasn’t up to my previous energy level.

  I fell asleep maybe a second before my head hit the pillow. I know Sophie woke up twice in the night, and I know I fed her, but I was on mom autopilot. When my eyes opened the next morning, I smelled something divine … coffee and pastry. My heart lifted. Robin had gotten up early to go to Peerless Doughnuts in downtown Lawrenceton.

  My appetite came to life with a roar.

  I staggered to the kitchen in my robe to find Robin at the counter, a box of assorted goodness in front of him. “Phillip get off to school?” I asked as I poured a cup of coffee. “I just missed him, I guess.”

  “Yep,” Robin said absently. Going by the crumbs, he’d already demolished a blueberry-cake doughnut. He was hovering over the brown-and-white-striped box, taking his time with his next choice.

  I ate a bear claw. And then a chocolate croissant. Though I’d regret it later (just a little bit), the sugar and fat put me in the happiest place I’d been in a week.

  Robin looked content, too. We’d been reading the newspaper as we ate, and I’d swapped sections with him silently.

  “When all else fails, eat something bad for you,” he said, when he judged I’d had enough coffee to be ready to talk.

  “Thanks for thinking of Peerless. You are truly a great husband.”

  He looked grim. “I’m the husband who brought down a stalker on you when I wasn’t even around to defend you,” he said. “I was the one who hired Virginia to come help you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You didn’t break Tracy out of the hospital. And you couldn’t anticipate Virginia would vanish. She was so solid the first time she was here! If you’d asked me, I’d have said she’d be the last person to skip out on a job.”

  “Skip out? I just hope she’s alive.”

  I stared at him with my mouth hanging open. My brain had heard “missing” and simply categorized Virginia as “lost.” Like Robin’s still-missing keys, or Sophie’s stuffed lamb. It had never fully registered with me that Virginia might well be dead. I’m an idiot, I thought. But after a second of considering the awful possibility, I said, “I can’t see why someone would kill Tracy and leave her body, yet haul Virginia’s away. If you’ve got one dead woman, what’s another one?”

  “Valid point. You think she’s still alive?”

  I nodded. “That’s what I want to believe. And we don’t have any evidence to the contrary.”

  Robin’s face didn’t lighten. “I wish we knew something, anything, for sure. Tell me how John is doing.” We hadn’t talked much after my second stint at the hospital. I had run out of conversation.

  I shook my head. “The same. Mother won’t talk about it or leave the hospital. Every night I keep the phone by the bed in case she calls me with bad news.”

  I was losing the happy buzz of the bear claw and the croissant. Since I’d been thinking about his keys, maybe there was an update. “You find your key ring yet?”

  “Nope. I searched my car this morning. By the way, Sam just called on the landline,” Robin said. He put the newspaper down on the counter and looked at me directly.

  Apparently, we were about to get even more serious. “This early? What did he have to say?”

  “He wants you to call him back.”

  Sam Clerrick, the library director, had been my boss for years. Sam was not tremendously likable, or witty, or exciting. He didn’t much enjoy talking to actual people. But he was an efficient director and a fair boss. I had exceeded the maternity leave the county policy allowed, by many weeks. I was guiltily aware I had an obligation to give Sam a return date, since he was not obliged to hold my job for me any longer and I was fortunate he hadn’t fired me. I didn’t want to decide right now … but I’d procrastinated long enough. I covered my face with my hands and groaned.

  My husband regarded me without much sympathy. “Roe, you’ve had your mind made up for weeks, and you know it. Don’t make another crisis out of this.”

  “I was there for so long.” Even to my own ears, I sounded whiny. “I’ll miss everyone.” The staff, the patrons.…

  “But you also want to be home with Sophie, and we can afford that. The income from your investments is more than your salary’s ever been. I’m doing well. You can’t stay at home with Sophie and go in to work at the library.”

  I stared down at my empty cup. There was no advice written in the bottom. “You’re right,” I said. “I can’t sit on the fence any longer.” Before I could think of a reason to put it off yet agai
n, I called Sam. My friend Lizanne answered the phone. “You’ve reached the library,” she said in her sweet voice. “Office of Sam Clerrick.”

  “Lizanne,” I said. “How are you?”

  “Hi, Roe. I’m fine, the kids are fine, and the divorce is final,” Lizanne said. “We need to have lunch if you can detach your little barnacle for an hour.” (Sophie was the little barnacle. In fact, she was attached to me at the moment. I was multitasking.)

  “So you and Bubba are both free as birds, huh?”

  “Bubba has already been on the wing,” she said dryly. “I saw him out with Teresa Stanton.”

  “Shut your mouth!” I said. Teresa, a terrifying and impeccably groomed woman, was the ex-wife of another lawyer, Bryan Pascoe. “Keeping it in the legal family, huh?”

  Lizanne laughed, but then she grew serious. “How’s your stepdad? I’ve been so sad about him. He’s such a sweetie.”

  “I haven’t talked to Mother this morning,” I said. “She’s at the hospital all the time, and Avery, John David, and Melinda are taking turns. I go when I can get a couple of hours free.”

  “John David calls me when he can. I feel so bad for him. First he loses his wife, now maybe his dad. Being a single father isn’t any easier than being a single mom.” Lizanne knew all about that. Bubba had not exactly been a hands-on father even when they’d been together.

  Lizanne had just told me in a delicate way that she was dating John David Queensland. This was new information. Two separate circles were intersecting, like a diagram. I drew breath to ask her how long this had been going on, but Lizanne said, “I see Sam’s free now, Roe. I’ll put you through.”