She hopped off the bus and ducked into the coffee shop where she’d met Ellen. Now she’d have to buy a coffee or donut. Some people would hover in the doorway, making it clear that they were only there to shelter, but Casey was the type who ordered something because she’d needed to use a washroom. She mustered whatever dignity she could and squelched over to the counter.
Weird, nobody was there, but the shop was open, and a couple sat in conversation at one of the window tables.
“Hi.”
Casey jumped. “Oh, hi,” she said, to an apparently invisible person.
The owner’s daughter rose from her crouch behind the counter. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Where’s your dad?” He usually worked the counter on weekday evenings.
“Out with my mom. It’s their anniversary, so I’m filling in. I haven’t seen you in here for a while.”
“I was just here the other day, to meet—” She stopped. Why tell…shoot, what was the owner’s daughter’s name again? Emma? No, Emily! Why humiliate herself a second time by telling Emily that she was a PI? Emily was probably studying for her PhD in nuclear physics. “I guess I usually come in here when you’re not working.” Come to think of it, Casey hadn’t run into her for months. “You still working here, or just filling in for tonight?”
“I’m doing early mornings, before school.”
Curiosity and politeness compelled Casey to ask, “What are you studying?”
“I’m doing a PhD in computer science.”
Please, please, don’t ask me what I do.
“What are you up to these days?” Emily asked.
Shit. “Nothing important,” Casey mumbled. “I’ll take a coffee to go, please,” she said stiffly.
“Sure.” Emily filled a paper coffee cup and pressed a cover onto it. She handed it to Casey and smiled. “You look nice.” She paused. “Meeting someone special?”
Nope. Not meeting anyone special; hadn’t met anyone special. And didn’t Emily notice that half her outfit had shrunk? “No, I’m actually on my way home,” Casey said, handing her a five dollar bill.
“You okay? You look a little down,” Emily said as she rang up the coffee.
“I’m fine. I just got caught in the rain, that’s all.” Casey accepted her change and glanced out the window. “It looks like the rain is slowing down. I’d better—”
Emily lifted a finger. “Wait.” She moved down the counter to the Danish and muffin area. “Take a Danish with you. On the house.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“Take it. It’s almost closing time, so it’ll only go to waste.”
“You sure?”
Emily nodded. “You like raspberry, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” Casey said, surprised that Emily remembered.
Emily slid a raspberry Danish into a bag, then used the tongs to pick up another Danish.
“One’s already more than generous,” Casey quickly said.
“The other one’s for your grandmother. She likes the strawberry ones.” Emily rolled the bag shut. “There you go.”
“Thank you.”
They stared at each other. “Well, I should get going,” Casey said. “Thanks again for the Danishes.”
“No problem.” When Casey pulled open the door, Emily called, “Casey!”
One hand holding the door, Casey twisted toward the counter.
“Good seeing you.”
“Yeah, you too.” She returned Emily’s wave, then narrowly averted smashing her face into the door and stepped outside. Suddenly the world felt brighter, despite the gloomy sky and the light shower making the puddles dance. A little kindness could go a long way. Or was it pity? Either way, she appreciated Emily’s gesture.
Not wanting to scare Gran, Casey shouted, “It’s just me,” when she got home. Her last words to Gran when leaving had been, “Don’t wait up.” Casey checked her watch—8:35. Woo-hoo!
To her surprise, the TV was off and the sofa empty. “Gran?”
Heels clicked along the hardwood in the hallway. Gran, all made up and in one of her church dresses, stopped in front of the mirror near the front door and examined herself.
“Gran.” Casey walked over to her. “Gran!”
Gran jumped. “What are you shouting for? I have my hearing aids turned on.”
“You weren’t answering me.”
“I’m busy!” Gran snapped open her purse, fished out a brush, and dragged it through her hair.
“Where are you going?”
“Marsha’s rounding a bunch of us up to go to a movie.” She dropped the brush back into the purse and turned to Casey. “I thought you were on a date.”
“It didn’t work out.”
“How can you know it didn’t work out?” Gran bellowed. “You were only gone for five minutes.”
“Trust me, sometimes you can tell.” She lifted the bag containing the Danishes. “From Emily at the coffee shop. One for me, one for you.”
Gran peeked into the bag. “The strawberry’s mine.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t eat it.”
“It’s still early. Call one of your friends.”
“Nah.” With her luck, if she ventured outside again, she’d get hit by a bus.
“Don’t worry, somewhere out there is a girl just for you.”
“I’m not worried! I’m only twenty-three. It’s not like when you were younger, when if you weren’t married by the time you turned sixteen, there was something wrong with you.”
Gran snorted. “It wasn’t that bad. And don’t knock marrying young. We didn’t need all that in-vitro fertilizer back then, because we didn’t wait until we were old before we tried to get pregnant.” She wagged a finger. “And don’t get me started on substitute mothers.”
“Surrogate mothers,” Casey said with a sigh.
“Next they’ll be buying babies at the store, like out of a science fiction movie. Thank god I’ll be dead by then. Though some things have changed for the better, eh?” She threw her arm around Casey and squeezed her. “Promise me you’ll get married before I kick it. I bet the wedding will cost a fortune, with two brides.”
“Two brides who won’t need wedding dresses and a fancy wedding.” At least, she wouldn’t.
Gran shook her head. “First things first, though, eh? You’ll find someone, don’t worry.” She pursed her lips. “You know, I’ve always wondered where they put it.”
“Put what?”
“The fertilizer.”
It took Casey a few seconds to understand what Gran was saying. “It’s in vitro fertilization, Gran.” She kept her voice even with difficulty. “They used to call them test tube babies, maybe because they did it in a test tube.”
Gran’s expression grew even more confused. “It must have been a big test tube. Anyway, I’d better get going, or they’ll go without me.” She reached for the front door handle.
“It’s raining,” Casey said, pulling an umbrella from the stand. She supposed she could have taken one with her to the restaurant, but she tended to forget umbrellas on the bus. Plus, it would have gotten in the way—as if that mattered now.
Gran took it from her and opened the door. Her eyes glinted mischievously. “Don’t wait up.” Casey could swear that Gran giggled as she pulled the door shut behind her.
Time to get on with her exciting evening. No point going online and seeing if anyone wanted to chat. All her friends would be out. After putting Gran’s Danish into the fridge and scarfing down her own, Casey changed into her pyjamas. She’d just settled onto the sofa and flicked to a movie when a telltale honk told her the cat was barfing up a hairball.
Yep, it was that kind of night.
Chapter Four
Casey rode the elevator up to the Downtown General Hospital’s sixth floor and squared her shoulders, trying to exude an air of confidence as she strolled up to the nurse’s station.
A frazzled-looking nurse glanced up from a chart, then came over to the counter.
“Can I help you?”
She read the nurse’s name tag: Stephanie. “I’m here on behalf of the family of Jacqueline Rose,” Casey said, using the voice that made her sound older on the phone. “I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the man who transferred Mrs. Rose to another facility.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“I’ve already conferred with the lead detective on the case,” Casey said, hoping that would give her some street cred with Stephanie.
Stephanie squinted at her. “Who did you say you were?”
“Casey Cook. Private investigator.”
Stephanie snorted. “I know why you’re here.”
“You do?”
“By family, you mean Mrs. Myers, right?” When Casey didn’t reply, Stephanie nodded and folded her arms. “You can tell Mrs. Myers that sniffing around here won’t get her any money. I’m not saying a word.”
“I’m not here because she’s suing the hospital. She’s trying to find her mother.”
“Sure, she is,” Stephanie drawled. “And I’m the Queen of England.”
Casey huffed. “Look, I was just wondering if you knew what the man looked like.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Is there someone on duty who was here the day Mrs. Rose went missing?”
Stephanie’s face tightened. “Allegedly went missing.”
“You don’t think she’s missing?”
“I think I have patients to attend to, and if you’re really an investigator, you should have figured it all out by now. Mrs. Rose goes missing over the one weekend Mrs. Myers is away. Normally that woman would be here on Saturday. But not that weekend. And now she has you asking questions, hoping we’ll give you something she can use against us.” Stephanie tapped her temples. “Put it all together, Sherlock. Now, I suggest you leave, or I’ll call security.”
Casey decided not to find out if Stephanie was bluffing. Frustrated, she strode back to the elevator and rode it down to the ground floor. Could Stephanie be right? Why would Ellen arrange to kidnap her own mother, especially when Mrs. Rose was in a coma…or had that been a precipitating factor? Kidnapping a conscious person who didn’t want to go along with a plan to bilk the hospital wouldn’t work. Nah, Ellen had hired Casey to find her mother…but was that for show? Had she chosen Casey because she’d figured an inexperienced PI wouldn’t solve the case? Or was that Casey’s lack of confidence talking?
Should she have flashed her licence? Made up a better story for good old Stephanie? At least her brief encounter with Attila the Nurse had gleaned a new piece of information: PIs were below cockroaches on the respect totem pole.
With a sigh, she mounted her bike and pushed off, then braked. Wait a minute. Her conversation with Stephanie hadn’t been a total loss. Mrs. Rose goes missing over the one weekend Mrs. Myers is away. She pulled her notebook from her pocket and read over her notes from her meeting with Ellen. Won a spa weekend getaway. Hmm. She shoved the notebook into her back pocket and slipped her phone from the front one.
Ellen picked up on the first ring. “Casey? Do you have news?”
Casey cringed at the hope in Ellen’s voice. “No. I’m calling to ask you about that spa weekend you won. The one you went to on the weekend your mother disappeared.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Can you tell me more about it? How did you arrange the weekend? Did you have a choice, or did you have to go on those specific dates? Are you sure you don’t remember which contest it was?”
“Jeez, give me a minute to think.” Silence, then, “I had to go that weekend.” Ellen paused. “They called me, told me I’d won. We arranged everything right then, on the phone.”
“Do you still have their number on your phone?”
“It was over five weeks ago.”
She’d take that as a no. “Which contest was it?”
Ellen let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t remember. I enter everything—online, offline, radio and TV contests. You don’t enter, you can’t win. It’s not the first thing I’ve won.”
Great. “What was the name on the bill?”
“What bill? The desk told me everything was taken care of, that the booking instructions specifically said not to bother me with trivial details like the bill. It was all expenses paid. I didn’t have to worry about a cent.”
Casey wanted to scream. “Which spa was it?” Surely Ellen would know that.
“Radiant Rejuvenations. It’s in Dunberg.”
Shit, that was about an hour away. She’d have to figure out how to get there. Maybe take a bus or commuter train? Mistake number one: she hadn’t asked Ellen to pay for expenses. Adding them to Ellen’s final bill wouldn’t be honest. Something to remember for her next case, assuming there was one.
“I had one weekend away. One weekend,” Ellen wailed. “One lousy weekend after weeks of keeping vigil at Mom’s bedside whenever I could.”
“I realize that. I’m not—”
“I don’t understand why the hospital says I answered the phone and told them it was okay to move Mom. I was in the sauna when they called. Then we had supper—”
“We?”
“Me and Trudy.”
“You didn’t mention that you took a friend.”
“I didn’t. We met in the lobby when I was checking in, and we hit it off. After supper, we, uh…”
They got wasted, or at least Ellen did. “This was on the day your mother disappeared?”
“Yes. Well, Trudy and I hung out together all weekend. You know, she said she’d email me, but she never did. I would have noticed, but when I came home and found out Mom was gone, everything else went out the window.”
Casey waited while Ellen took a slurp from a drink. “Was Trudy in the sauna, too?”
“No. She said she wanted to lie down for a bit.”
“Who suggested the sauna?”
“I don’t know,” Ellen shrieked. “Why do you care so much about the flipping spa? That’s not going to find Mom.”
“I’m wondering if the contest was bogus.” And whether Trudy was a plant who’d answered Ellen’s phone when the hospital had called.
“What do you mean?” Ellen breathed.
“I’m wondering if someone deliberately made sure you were out of town and away from your phone. Since you don’t remember the contest or anything, I’ll try to find out who paid for your stay, but the spa probably won’t give me the information.” She’d try anyway, and in person. It was easy to hang up on someone, not so easy to ignore someone making a fuss at Reception.
“They’ll give it to me! I’ll make up some story about my accountant needing a copy of the bill and the contest people won’t give it to me, or the contest people claiming I owe them part of the bill, or something like that.”
Casey’s heart raced. “Don’t call. Show up at the spa.”
“When do you want to go?”
Sweet.
“We’re meeting Sissy tonight,” Ellen said. “How about tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“Sissy’s looking forward to meeting the investigator I’ve hired.”
Casey wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or afraid. “Tell her I’ll have lots of questions for her.”
“Oh, I have a good feeling about the spa visit,” Ellen squealed. “We’re on the right track! See you later.”
“Bye.” Casey hung up, then made a note to ask Ellen for Trudy’s full name.
*****
Sipping her coffee, Casey listened to Sissy gossip about her co-workers. So far, she’d learned that Mrs. Rose worked in the cat food formulation department, that there’d recently been tension between Mrs. Rose and her boss, Mike Hargrave, and that pet food was a multi-billion dollar business and extremely competitive. Oh, and that the receptionist was carrying on a torrid affair with one of the scientists, that Jinny, another scientist, stole people’s desserts from the fridge, that Phyllis, an administrative assistant, wouldn’t use
any of the dishes in the kitchen because she felt the scientists didn’t adequately wash their hands, and that Henry, another scientist, had been caught eating a sample formulation—more than once! Casey had put down her half-eaten Danish during that part of the conversation.
“What about the party?” she said when Sissy finally stopped talking long enough for her to get a word in edgewise. “You were with Mrs. Rose when she fell ill.”
“Christ, call her Jackie,” Sissy said. “Every time you say Mrs. Rose, my brain seizes up. Yes, I was with her.”
Ellen gripped Casey’s arm. “She went to the hospital with Mom. Thank god she was there. I was too upset to think.”
“Jackie was fine,” Sissy said, wide-eyed. “Then, around seven, she started getting cramps. She’s past needing Midol, so we figured it was something she ate. When the cramps got worse, I insisted that she talk to Ray.”
“Ray?” Casey said.
“One of the vets that usually shows up for company shindigs.”
“You consulted a vet? That was the first aid person?”
“Well, out of everyone there, I figured Ray would have the most educated guess about what to do,” Sissy said haughtily. “When Jackie said her legs felt funny, he said we should go to emergency, and Mike agreed with him.”
“Mike, her boss?”
Sissy nodded. “He insisted on driving us, helped Jackie down the stairs. I’m glad he was there, because we would have driven to St. Timothy’s, which is closer. Mike told us about a bad experience there, and we didn’t think it was an emergency, so we went to the General. Jackie kept suggesting that we just take her home, but Mike said she needed a doctor, and I agreed with him. She didn’t look good.”
“I didn’t see Mike at the hospital,” Ellen said.
“He was still there when you showed up. But the moment they said the word ‘coma,’ you almost fainted, remember? The doctor ushered you away. When I started blubbering, Mike went to see if he could get more information about your mother’s condition. Or maybe he didn’t know what to do. I don’t know.”
“Did he get more information?” Casey asked.
Sissy shifted her attention back to Casey. “I don’t know. I didn’t see him again that night. I waited for him to come back, but he never did, so I pulled myself together and found Ellen. She needed my support.”
The Missing Comatose Woman Page 4
